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#also yes all for one is also a good quirk
jordifaedia · 1 day
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oh yeah, pluma operation record analysis time. let's go.
content warnings: spoilers for la pluma's oprec; general lore about pluma, dossoles holiday. this will be divided into two sections, because read the header for this post, also pluma is referred to as 'pluma' instead of 'la pluma' or 'rafaela' throughout this post if you even care.
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I. the la pluma analysis
there are multiple things you learn about la pluma in her operation record; she's a daughter of many (not blood related), she dislikes trouble, and she and pancho have a more seemingly closer bond than pancho does with tequila.
the general summary of the operation record is that la pluma is at dossoles, there's a couple people who want to break her dad out of jail, and she has to try and stop that before candela's guards well.. you know, kill them or try to imprison them.
"why can't she just let them go break her father out of jail?" while la pluma is extremely close to her father, and i personally think that even if she loves him deeply and wishes he was probably by her side.. that doesn't mean she wants him to be broken out of prison! listen, you can love your family members as much as you want but when you know they're in trouble for something. you know they have to pay the consequences for it. also, a free dad at the cost of dead true bolivarian soldiers? yeah no, not worth it (in pluma's eyes, in which it's pretty implied that the bolivarian soldiers are close to her. see photos below)
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right, so what makes la pluma's operation record different from, i don't know, everything else about her?
in her operation record you learn that this takes place a little after, or shortly after (like hours, maybe) tequila's own oprec. so there's a timeframe for you.
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in order to understand tequila, you have to understand one thing. do. not. seperate. the. dossoles. siblings. like, not even in a "they're a duo so cute!" way, no like there's a crap ton of lore about tequila in la pluma's oprec and his family, and there's lore in tequila's file about la pluma. in order to understand one character, you have to go to the other. that's how deeply connected they are. even if you want to like one character solely out of the duo, you're going to have to go to the other persons file and find information about them that you can't find through their sole file/oprec. because yes, that's how much they care about each other.
you learn that the flower that was pinned on pancho's wife's chest was a lilac, which i already talked about it's significance in another post. you also find out small quirks about pluma, like that she can still make some pretty damn good food, and that she's just genuinely kind-hearted despite you know.. being apart of the salas family.. having to kill others. all that jazz.
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pluma manages to show kindness towards everyone in the oprec, despite the fact that yes, they're trying to break her papa out of prision. and she doesn't want that to happen obviously, yet it's clear that she still.. cares for everyone that's trying to go through the stupid plan. she doesn't want them to get hurt, she doesn't want them to come home dead. we don't know if tio, or the other soldier have a family back at home (though, i wouldn't be surprised if they do) and for them to give up their lives for said family would be heart wrenching.
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pluma, despite being considered 'aloof' by most, is smart. she knows that if they go ahead with this plan, they'll end up just making pancho pay the price even more. candela is keeping a close eye on pluma anyways, since she kept talking to the true bolivarian soldiers, which had already settled as a red flag in her eyes. pluma knows that candela doesn't really trust her after the events of dossoles holiday. you know, where candela basically found out pancho including his children plotted to blow up a fucking city behind her back, and they could of gotten away with it almost. sort of. not really.
i'm not the best at explaining things, so i have to bring up a major point to follow smaller points. so here, i'll go with a big point. it is a massive misconception that pluma is "air-headed" like, only filled of pure air. and that is solely because of poor writing in dossoles holiday, as well as the fact in her voicelines.. it's just unironically doctorbait for those who go goo goo ga ga heart eyes at her. which yeah, i don't mind that. pretty women deserve to be loved, but people don't really understand her character beyond that point. luckily, pluma's oprec helps clear up some of these misconceptions. and provides a bigger view on pluma as a whole instead.
you learn about the things i've already told you, she's the emotional bandage between the rip that was left by mrs. salas's death, she's a daughter, a sister, and a good caretaker at that too. she genuinely cares for those around her, and does not like the idea of resorting to criminal acts (most likely because of dossoles holiday, and the bad association with them.) and oh boy, does she make this clear to the reader.
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pluma has a strong connection to her family, after all this entire oprec is mostly centered around her family if you haven't noticed. she wants to be involved in family affairs, she wants to be understood. however, most of the time people undermine her consistently and just assume "she's a little girl", and that "she doesn't know what she's doing" basically, even though.. like i said before, that's not true. she's smart, she knows what she's doing. and there's always a reason why she does the things she does. this is one of her major conflicts as a character, is the fact that everyone wants to continue thinking of pluma as some sweet innocent angel who got dragged into war, when she isn't.
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innocent? no. angelic? far from it, she assisted helping tequila and pancho attempt to blow up a city. sweet? yeah, that's pretty true. even so, she was a child soldier. of course she was innocent back then, what do you expect children to be like? but even so, she went into dossoles holiday with a clear mind, knowing what to do. she wanted to help her papa, and her brother, and help the true bolivarians with their victory. there is no "she's the damsel in distress", because she never was in distress in the first place. in her files, she literally says she wanted to be apart of the plan because she kept getting pissed off that she was being left out practically.
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in the best words possible, she is a hard shell to break. she doesn't give up, and when she knows what's best for her, she will keep pushing through until she reaches her goal. most people are under the impression that la pluma doesn't have a single clue on what's she's doing, and that she's just some airheaded little sister (which feeds into the mischaracterization of pluma that is already rapid across the fandom.) she's not, hope this helps!
also to note, candela also knows that pluma is not some "sweet behaved" girl that her brother (tequila) seemingly told her, which should say enough by itself.
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but even despite the fact she's aware of the consequences of helping her brother, for continuing to affiliate with the true bolivarians past dossoles holiday, and just.. i don't know, existing? she's still a girl.
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la pluma's operation record provides answers to unanswered questions, (ex. what flower is pinned on mrs. salas' chest, what is pluma's relationship with her father, what happened after pancho went to jail, etc) but it also still manages to not be purely about pluma's family. because as much as she's associated with them, and they're a pretty big portion of her character.. she's still her own being.
la pluma has emotions. she gets sad, mad, happy, all of the above or some other feeling i didn't list. she's still human despite the fact people see her as a hardworking woman on the battlefield, protecting herself and her brother. or whether people still think she's some aloof cute scythegirl, she's much more under the surface.
when she defeats pancho's soldiers, it is obviously stated in the above image that she was crying. sobbing? no, just a couple tears. it's clear to the reader that pluma had no intentions of wanting to hurt tio, or people she considered close to her. in fact, it seems like that thought entirely probably was a thought she never wanted to conclude to.
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she could of let them attempt to save pancho from jail, possibly get injured or even worse die, but she doesn't. she wants to keep them alive, and hope they eventually change their ways (obviously this doesn't happen, as they try to keep going with the plan yet fail miserably due to pluma probably hurting them herself.) pluma knows the only way despite her internal feelings is to either:
as you can tell, she picked option b. while we don't know what exactly caused her to cry, we can assume one thing. it was most likely because she felt bad for hurting them, or just doing a 'bad' act (not the best wording, trust me on this one)
a) try to resolve this through conversation (doesn't work)
b) step in yourself and even if it hurts them, stop them (works)
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she doesn't want to be, i suppose, 'the bad guy'. but when push comes to shove, she has to do whats right. even if it contains hurting those around her. however, it's not like that'll have no consequences on herself.
between the dossoles siblings, you can safely say pluma can be considered the more emotional one out of the two. while tequila does in fact have his own emotional moments, he masks it all under this "happy-go-lucky" mask, compared to pluma who doesn't really repress what she's feeling. she is more empathetic, at least.
under tequila's mask is a more hardened, blunt soul compared to pluma, who i'd like to say is like slime. she's solid, unlike water, yet she can still be meshed around. just like her emotions, she can be tough while maintaining her true feelings about situations. sometimes, those feelings will arise.
i wouldn't say pluma hates violence in its entirety because that would be wrong. what she hates is people being a threat to her family, or hurting those close to her.
"but she hurt tio, as well as another soldier." when people you love are doing stupid shit and are too far deep in for conversation, and trying to get them out of said shit peacefully doesn't work, it's okay to be a little mean. it's okay to raise your sword. sometimes, you need to be a little harsh on an individual so they can get it through their head.
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as nearing the finality of the oprec, the themes of family grow louder and louder. it becomes clear to the viewer that the assumption people have from a skim in pluma's files begins to become.. something else. she's confident, and knows what she's doing. and you get to see her care for her family even more than she already has during the final scene of her oprec, in which she purchases lilacs for her family, the same flowers that were associated with tequila's mother's death.
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III. final thoughts/conclusion (misc thoughts)
a must-read, pluma's oprec is a read you have to read in order to understand both tequila a little more, but especially pluma on. the amount of screentime she got in dossoles holiday was humiliating, and did her so dirty that people can't even seem to understand her correctly. luckily, pluma's oprec attempts to amend those poor writing tatics used in dossoles holiday, and make it much clearer that she has a bigger impact on tequila and his father than expected.
they're not going to rewrite dossoles holiday and release it as a 'rerun of a rerun' as much as i want that medal set, and better characterization of pluma, plus many more factors. so, you have to make do with what you have.
pluma in general, is a lovely character. her design is unique, and isn't too complex that it becomes an eyesore. the color pallete choice is wonderful, pleasing on my eyes, and her personality itself is very adorable. and i really like how family-associated she is. i really do wish more people liked her, and i know most of the time people are quick to brush her under as 'fanservice for the doctor' or 'tequila's little sister', but she's seriously interesting.
so yeah. go read her oprec.
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hella1975 · 10 months
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assigning a character the highest honour like *adds go home by julien baker to their playlist*
#and by honour i mean pointing at them like TRAUMATISED! TRAUMATISED! TRAUMATISED!#like yeah relating to this song is a red flag actually. yeah it's one of the most personal songs in the world to me#and i actively am not allowed to listen to it some days bc it makes me significantly worse#even if im in a GOOD mood because of the layers upon layers of emotions ive associated with it#yeah i literally wont even blorbo post to this song even if it's accurate to a character because it's so personal#so they have to be REALLY FUCKING SPECIAL AND FUCKED IN THE HEAD to get this honour. enter touya#i made him a playlist im going crazy like yeah actually of course i was always gonna be weird about him#like he's got fire themes. he's got body horror. he just wanted to be good. he's ethel cain coded. he's georgia coded#he's got mommy AND daddy AND sibling issues. he's the only other character ive let even come close to mary on a cross#he's a waiting room girlie. he's an archer girlie. im tearing my hair the fuck out of my scalp#why does the first character ive latched onto this hard since CHUUYA have to be from mha of all things#like that's embarassing for me im embarassed to be here. and yet#touya todoroki#the thing that makes me sick about touya is yes the abuse he went through via his quirk and his dad etc etc#but also bc sekota peak happened when he was 13 right? and he's 24 now? that's 11 years unaccounted for#like ik it's confirmed his burns put him in a coma for 3 years and all for one and the dr guy just stapled his stubborn self together#which is something else i will YELL MY HEAD OFF ABOUT WHAT THE FUCKKKKK HE WAS A CHILD STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT#but im pretty sure it's confirmed that after 3 years he goes off again on his own? which still leaves him as a teenager?#like he straight up burns himself alive at 13 wakes up at 16 and reappears at 24 with dyed hair and piercings and a bad attitude#and im not supposed to wonder? or get upset? like i absolutely am leaning into the 'he was on the streets' angle bc i hate myself#and that's devastating and also what alternative is there logically like he has NOTHING#no home no money no name that he can feasibly use not even an appearance that will warrant anything but more cruelty#so youve got this child on the streets with injuries that absolutely cause insane amounts of pain daily he's literally STAPLED together#and he's completely alone and the only thing getting him through is this growing hatred and rage#like id set all my plans around killing the guy that put me there too actually just to fucking get me out of bed in the morning#I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM. WHERE WAS HE FOR THE PAST DECADE. HORIKOSHI PLEASE#I WANNA GO HOME IM SICK THERES MORE WHISKEY THAN BLOOD IN MY VEINS MORE TAR THAN AIR IN MY LUNGS#PIERCE MY SKIN NEEDLES TO WORN OUT RAGS THE FOLDS IN MY ARMS THE SICKENING BLACK AND I HAVENT BEEN TAKING MY MEDS#I KNOW MY BODY IS JUST DIRTY CLOTHES IM TIRED OF WASHING MY HANDS GOD I WANT TO GO HOME
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sysig · 5 days
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But would you tho (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#Schuldig#ZEX#And again the Captain implied from offscreen lol#Two little things ♪ One that Actually happened and one speculation lol#I really like Schuldig :D He's the likeable asshole type and his quirk is very well written :)#I love how he gets on Zelnick's case about his wishy-washy-ness in regards to xenophilia generally and ZEX specifically hehe#Zelnick has no good answer for him! It's so cute hehe <3#But then he turns right around and is wishy-washy himself!! I get the feeling his frustration stems a bit from relating hahaha#Or maybe Zelnick's uncertainty influenced him! It's not such an easy decision to make when you're staring down the barrel is it now :)#Openly attracted to Max's body and flattered by ZEX's personality and outright attraction to him in turn but the alien aspect is too much pf#Sure right okay lol - I have no skin in this game so I'll have to take his word for it haha#Secondarily speculating around ZEX's attraction and standards lol it sounds like an oxymoron but no he is actually a bit picky!#Yes he loves humans generally but he is actually tempered by what mind inhabits what body! It's so interesting to me!#I think it's especially funny how his various desires are in conflict with each other haha#Like it makes sense that he controls himself around Fwiffo - poor thing would have a heart attack - but he genuinely seems less attracted!#Which makes sense to me as well ♪ Spathi and VUX share several traits and were on the same side during the War so he's familiar with them#And he's specifically attracted to differences and novelty - it all lines up!#And then there's also his pride lol he tries to make more friends than enemies of course but he still gets petty and patronizing <3#If he's actually upset with someone /he's/ the one who would need convincing! It's all very interesting :3c#And then there's the matter of his own body vs. Max's body - he's so upset at the metaphysical implications of cloning his consciousness#I've never thought of ZEX in the context of the ''Would you fuck your clone'' questionnaire but I guess I know his answer now haha#Though I still wonder what his reaction would be to Max :0 He's probably not close enough to be ZEX but he is /a/ ZEX - of a sort#All his introspection about the body he's in has my mental ears perked haha - pity and worry for the potential life he's replacing#Discomfort at possibly being Max in some capacity including continuing to be in his body but also of overtaking his life entirely#And of being backed into a corner - Max is pitiful as well as pitiable! Neither of them want to be Max Vyer really#He loves humans but how far does that extend when push comes to shove ♪ It's been interesting watching him fumble through it :)
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drengar · 21 days
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When Enji overheats due to his quirk, the symptoms he suffers differ depending on how intense the flames he produces are over his normal output. In general, he suffers symptoms that are common in those who are experiencing heat stroke or heat exhaustion. Typically his movements and mental status slow to the extreme case being his speech begins to slur. In extreme cases, he begins to experience nausea and dizziness. Throughout all of this, he will also be sweating but how much would depend on his overall output. Regardless, he would need fluids after he overheats, just in some cases, he may need to be rushed to a hospital instead of just needing to sit down with a bottle of water.
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gojonanami · 4 months
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THE DOCTOR IS IN - SATORU GOJO
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✴︎ summary: aka medical intern / doctor in training gojo. when you go to your annual check-up, you didn't think you'd be crushing on your doctor - or that he's conduct such an in-depth examination - in more than one way. ✴︎ contents: 18+, a lot of smut, implied cheating (but there's no cheating), improper use of a medical questioning and an exam room, improper use of a tongue depressor, panty sniffing, semi-exhibitionism (but not really), fingering (f!receiving), oral (f! receiving), semi-public sex, sex in an exam room ✴︎ wc: 2,573
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It was just a checkup. 
You sit, using your phone as you wait for the doctor, squirming on the uncomfortable exam paper drawn over the patient bed — so why were you so nervous? 
And then there’s a knock at the door, and he walks in — but it’s not your usual doctor. 
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” the white haired man grins widely, and you’re taken aback by how good he looks dressed in his white coat — if he had been your doctor before, you never would have missed a single one of your appointments, “My name is Satoru Gojo, and I’m a medical student that’ll be helping out today,” he offers his hand, and you take it, shaking his hand. 
“It’s nice to meet you too,” you smile, introducing yourself by name, and he sits on the chair in front of you. Without his white coat and stethoscope around his neck, he could have looked more like a model than a medical student. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had been offered gigs modeling for his medical school’s brochures — hell, you were regretting not going to medical school right now. 
He’s right down to business, crossing his leg over the other, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about you, what brings you here, and your personal and medical history?” he asks, clipboard and pen in hand, lips curling. 
“Not at all, Doctor,” 
“Call me Satoru,” he smiles, and you can’t help but smile back. And then he’s running through the usual list of questions — name, occupation, date of birth, smoking status, drugs, prescription list, and all the other questions medical providers need to ask patients, “and sexual history?” 
You tilt your head, flushing, “Can you be more specific?” 
And he’s leaning back, pen pausing in its scribbling, as he glances up to clarify, “Are you sexually active?” 
You lick your dry lips, squirming under his gaze that suddenly feels heavier than before, “Yes, I am,” and he nods.
“Do you have a partner?” 
You nod, “I have a boyfriend,”
His eyes rake over you discreetly, “Must be pretty handsome to date a woman like you,” he remarks, — did he always flirt with his patients? Because he certainly will have good patient retention at that rate.  
“He’s also a little full of himself,” and you see a slight purse of his lips, as he raises an eyebrow, “but he’s very, very cute,” 
“Oh is he? Good to know,” he sighs, pressing the top of the pen to his lips, drawing your eyes to his lips, “and how often do you engage in sexual activity?” 
You have to pause before you answer — god, when were you going to move off this topic? “Pretty often, almost every day, usually,” you clear your throat, unable to meet his gaze, as he nods. 
“And are you satisfied?” 
And you raise an eyebrow, “is that relevant?” 
“Oh, this is a physical, we like to be very thorough,” and you swallow thickly — well this was uncomfortable — but he only looked…almost amused, “Well?” 
“Most of the time,” you shrug.
“Most of the time?” he repeats, placing his clipboard lower, clearly far too interested. 
“My boyfriend has been pretty busy with work lately, it’s been pretty lonely,” your eyes finally finding his own, deep blues darkening a shade. 
And his lips quirk, “Oh I see, I’m sorry to hear that, but I won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon,” he winks, and he’s rising to his feet, as he draws slower, “I think we can move onto the actual physical exam now,” and he’s pulling his stethoscope out as he draws near, kneeling instead of standing — because what else can you do beside a couch instead of a hospital bed — “I’m going to listen to your heartbeat,” 
God, he smells good. 
You try not to bite your lip at him — he was so pretty, up close even more so, his long snow white eyelashes fluttering and his perfect pink lips so kissable — but no, no, this was inappropriate. This was a doctor’s office. 
And he’s putting the stethoscope in his ears, pressing the metal diaphragm to your chest, “Oh, your heart’s racing,” he murmurs, leaning in even closer, warm breath warming your skin, “wonder why that is — this may call for further examination,” 
“Is this concerning?” and he’s tilting your chin up, far too close to your face. 
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re in good hands,” he’s moving the stethoscope to your back, pressing the metal end to listen to your lungs, “please take deep breaths for me,” and you do, biting your lip, as he leans against you as he moves the diaphragm to four different points, his chest brushing against your shoulder, “I see,” he murmurs, “have you been experiencing any aches or pains anywhere?” 
You swallow, “My throat has been hurting a little,” and he nods, grabbing a tongue depressor. 
“Let me take a look, now stick out your tongue and say ‘ah,’” and you do as he says as he presses the tongue depressor down, “good girl,” he murmurs, making your cheeks warm at his words — fuck. 
His eyes scan your mouth, pressing against your tongue harder, “I don’t see anything unusual,” as he pulls the depressor back, skimming your tongue teasingly, but still, his face is so close to yours, and he notices your breath catching, “but I may need to do a closer examination if you…consent,” 
“If I consent?” You ask slowly, his lips a breath away, and his thumb drags down your lips, “Satoru—“ 
“Do you consent?” And he’s leaning even closer, noses brushing, and you only can manage a nod, “use your words, Princess,” 
“Yes, please,” and he only smirks, as his lips brush yours — so soft and teasing, his fingers cup along your jaw. He tastes of sugar and warmth, his tongue teasing your lips, until they part, dragging over your tongue, the very same he had just examined. He draws easy moans from you, one after another, before he pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips. 
“I didn’t see any issues, but I am concerned about your throat,” and he’s kissing a burning trail down your jaw to the hollow of your throat, “feels a little swollen here—“ and his teeth grazes the soft skin there, “it may need a closer look,” and he’s licking and sucking, dragging his tongue over your sweet skin. 
And you’re nearly panting at this point, as he smiles at you, pressing another kiss to your lips, and you raise an eyebrow, “was that you checking again?” And he laughs, lips curling, as his fingers slide to the small of your back. 
“You can be too sure,” and he’s kissing you again, and he doesn’t miss the way your thighs press together, “think the problem may lie elsewhere,” and his hands drag down your sides before finding your thighs, and you gasp, as he parts them, your fingers pressing into your soft flesh, “feels very warm here, and almost irritated — it may be an infection,” he hums, as his thumbs toy with the waistband of your shorts, “I may need to get a closer look,” 
“Satoru—” you whine, and pulling at your shorts now, and he’s looking up at you with lidded, lustful eyes. 
“Would the patient like some help removing her clothes for the examination?” and you only can manage a nod, and he accepts it this time, pulling your shorts down, “don’t worry, I’m a medical professional, I know just what treatments are acceptable in cases such as these,” and your shorts pool around your ankles, before you’re kicking them off. 
And his eyes linger on the damp, dark patch on your underwear, “oh? I see the problem,” you gasp as he presses his thumb against your puffy clit through the thin fabric, “it’s so swollen, so warm — I’m going to have to do a very thorough exam of this area,” and he’s snapping the fabric against your skin, making your squirm, “so sensitive,” he hums as he tugs down your underwear, sniffing your panties, before pocketing them, “a sample, I’ll keep it for further testing,” he winks, before he unbuttons his cuffs, rolling up the sleeves of his light blue button up. 
His eyes darken as his eyes rake over your exposed cunt, “are you ready to begin?” And he waits for your nod, before his fingers part your messy folds, as his arms pin your thighs in place, “so wet, do you hear that, sweetheart?” And his finger sinks into your needy pussy, squelching, “practically swallowing me in,” he grunts, licking his lips, “gonna need to probe a little deeper,” and a second finger is joining the first, fucking you open in earnest, as he pulls another moan from your lips, “s’good for me, but still I can’t figure out what’s wrong, maybe I just need to inspect this area further,” his hands sliding your thighs over his shoulders, pressing a languid kiss to your inner thigh. 
And then his lips brush against your clit, making you squirm, his tongue darting out to drag lazy circles around it. God, you were so close, “don’t be so loud, there are other patients who might hear you — they might wonder what kind of exam I’m doing,” and you’re holding back your cries, biting your bottom lip. as his fingers and tongue bully your insides, “so tight, think I need to loosen you up before the final test,” 
“I’m, ngh, close—“ and his lips close over your clit, sucking hard, and that’s enough for you to fall over the edge. You’re moaning, walls twitching around his fingers, your thighs, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, lapping up every bit of your release. Your cunt twitches as you come down from your pleasure high, as you look down at him with half lidded eyes, gaze deep and dark, laced with lust as you watch him lick your release from his lips and chin. 
“Such a good baby, you did so good,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your neck and face, until he’s letting you taste yourself on his lips, swallowing your moans eagerly, “haven’t even figured out what’s wrong and look at the state you’re in now,” he tsks, as he rubs the length of your cheek with his thumb, before kissing your jaw, “we still have more work to do,” as he eases your quivering legs off his shoulders. 
And he’s undoing his belt, the clink of the buckle drawing your eyes to his thighs, as he tugs down his slacks and boxers, as it slaps against your stomach. Your lips part at the sight of him, thick and long — a white head of precum, dripping from the engorged tip. 
Fuck, he’s huge, and he chuckles at your expression, “Like what you see, sweetheart?” As he drags his weeping erection along your sensitive pussy, “so messy, gonna have to see what’s going on inside, I have a feeling it’s very deep,” his fingers lift one of your legs over his shoulder, “are you ready?” 
And you’re nodding, “please, I need—“ and he’s parting your folds, past that delicious ring of muscle, kissing the deepest part of you with his tip, as your lips part in a groan, “Toru—“ 
“That’s it, s’good for me,” he’s grunting, as he pulls out only to slam back in, “best little patient, aren’t you? With your perfect princess cunt, made just for me,” 
“Figure out the — ngh — the problem yet?” You tease. 
He only grins, as he gives a nasty thrust of his hips, wiping all sense from your head, “Filthy case of pretty Princess cunt — PPC — and it’s a particularly bad one,” he’s slowing down to stretch out the wet squelch of your cunt, “hear that? It’s the sound of your pussy latching onto me, practically strangling my cock,” and he’s picking up speed, as he lifts your other leg over his shoulder and — fuck how is he going deeper? 
“Gonna come in for all your appointments and let me fuck you, right? Gonna fill you right, you have just what you need, the perfect medicine is this dick in this cunt, and the prescription is for every day, sweetheart,” he’s pistoning in and out of you, “pretty baby keeps pulling me back in, it may be incurable,” but he’s only fucking you harder, “but I’m going to try.” 
The hospital bed is certainly ruined by now, from the creaks and groans it’s giving, it’s nearly as close to breaking as you are. Just a little deeper, a little more. 
“Taking me so well, such a good girl,” his cock is twitching inside you, “fuck, s’good f’me, just for me,” 
“Toru, ‘m close,” and his hips are stuttering, as he groans your name. 
“Cum f’me, sweetheart,” and you do — your orgasm has you gripping him tight, as he continues to fuck you through it, rough thrusts that has you moaning far too loud, “close, gonna cum—where—“ 
“Inside, please,” and your eyes find his, lust blown out, as your hips grind against his, “I need my medicine,” 
And he only groans in reply, sinking his cock as deep as he can before cumming, his warm seed filling you up, as his hips jerk against yours once, twice, before he’s easing your legs down, to lay on top of you. 
Both of your heavy pants fill the room, as his face rests nestled in your chest, his lips pressing sweet kisses to the skin, “I am definitely not helping you sanitize this room, Toru,” 
He pouts, “Oh c’mon it’s half of your mess, most of your mess — you were soaking me—“ 
“I did you a favor by coming to help you practice conducting an intake and diagnosing a patient, I’m not cleaning up this mess too,” you sigh, as he relents, leaning up to kiss your lips.
“Well you did cum a lot I’ll give you that,” and you push his face away, but he only drags his tongue up your fingers. You flush, “you’re the worst doctor,” you grumble. 
“But I’m your favorite one, after all,” he grins, easing himself out, as you gasp, watching your mixed releases leak from your cunt, “I’m the only one who can give you your medicine.” 
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A few hours before….
“C’mon, baby, I need to practice,” your boyfriend curled his arms around you, burying his face in your neck, trying to pull your attention from the book your nose was buried in currently, “i need to practice,” 
“I don’t think practicing is what’s on your mind right now, Toru,” you roll your eyes as he presses wet kisses up your neck, “you’re being distracting,” 
“You distract me just by existing,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes, “at least if I practice with you, I can do something,” and you can’t say no to him, could you? 
“Fine but why can’t we practice here?” And he’s shrugging, only grinning in reply. 
“I can get more into the mindset of a doctor at the clinic,” he’s holding up the key he had sweet talked out of the security guard, “it’s a chance for me to get some practical experience. No one else will be around. Just you and me. Please?” 
“…fine,” you sigh, as he kisses you again, “but you’ll behave?” 
“Promise,” he grins — but you knew Satoru Gojo never behaved - especially when it came to you. 
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✴︎ a/n: my sister's practice asking me medical questions for an intake finally came in handy.
✴︎ taglist: @mwtsxri, @buttercupmuffins, @sinnerstardoll, @ziieanna12, @capitana18girl, @musababy, @miacakess, @secretmoneybearvoid, @sincerelyyrosemary, @dazailover1900, @maybe-a-bi-witch, @mnare, @kiyoomis-side, @complexivelovely, @imjustmememe, @pandaluvr, @affendy86, @scarlet-kazuha, @peachedtv, @spooky-nanners, @runmeoverkth, @nicobicobee, @kvroshit, @superluver, @paperairplanescanfly, @professorweezy, @i-literally-cant-with-this, @sachirobabe, @aothotties, @naughteehee, @ohphi, @roanryan16, @happyface002, @starrylibras, @sxatorugojoswife, @unamilanesa, @lycheeclare, @oreo-bozado, @yeehawslap, @hidanleftoe, @reaperxdeath
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yndrgrl · 9 months
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katsuki bakugo is the only man who can help bunnygirl! you during heat.
established relationship. normal! au. first time as a couple.
warnings: nsfw, lowkey angst ngl, fellatio, praise, slight degradation, creampie
if you're here for the nsfw part, i marked it >:)
a/n: dude, idk why my last fic has that "mature" label 😭 also is this a hypersexual comfort fic? yeah.
---
"are you okay? you look hot?"
"your forehead is on fire!"
"you look red. drink some water."
you've been hearing that non-stop all day. of course, you know that everyone has good intentions, but it was so annoying.
no, you didn't feel fine, nor did you feel sick. it was a strange, embarrassing thing to admit. in a world full of truly remarkable quirks, you just had to get a basic one. your quirk was rabbit. you know mirko? yeah, well you two are in the same boat.
you have floppy bunny ears the same color as your hair, a puff ball of a bunny tail, & muscular legs. all so cutesy & alright to deal with. the behavioral traits were what got you though. increased hearing, jittery/easily scared, & most annoying of all, the heat that came with it.
though it wasn't unusual to have heat, it was definitely not something you mention in a passing conversation. heat made it hard to focus on anything except for breeding & sex. your senses are enhanced, making clothes feel itchy at all times. your train of thought always derailed to live making. that's why you were prescribed heat repressant.
no side affects & it worked like a charm.
however, this month you forgot to stock up on them, & you just so happened to run out. you would've just skipped school to get some, but it was midterms, which comes with tests & presentations that simply could not be made up. it was either fail your classes or bite the bullet.
"oi! what's your deal?" someone barked at you. ah yes, your boyfriend of six months, katsuki bakugo.
"nothing," you said with annoyance. another thing about your heat is that you get irritable because of the overwhelming feeling of needing to do a certain activity. "don't worry about it."
taken aback, katsuki reached out for you & spun you around. your eyes welled with tears of frustration & utter embarrassment, the tips of your ears were red, & every thread of your clothes made your skin crawl. "hey, what's going on?"
"i-it's nothing, just leave me alone. class is about to start." you understood how much katsuki prides himself in his academics. you're not gonna be the one to drag him down; that's not very amazing-cool-awesome girlfriend of you, after all.
he wanted to say that he didn't care & let's just ditch class, but you both knew you couldn't. the exams were too important. luckily for the both of you, the last period of the day was study hall. most kids just skip it, starting their free time early.
just a few classes, then i can go get medication, that's not bad at all, i've been through worse, you thought in attempts to calm yourself.
yeah, but imagine how could it would feel to be absolutely railed, oh fuck, imagine katsuki-
you had to cut yourself off, he was standing right beside you after all.
your relationship with katsuki has been slow, healthy, & true. the most you two have done in the span of six months is make out, grind, & grope each other clothed. both of you saw a future together so having sex didn't have to happen right then & there. if it happens, it happens, but there was no need to have it to connect.
you didn't want you first time with the love of your life to be because of your current circumstances.
"did i do something?" he asked, making your ears twitch.
"no, it's not you," you reassured, "there's nothing going on." you both entered the classroom, & you could feel katsuki's worried stare focused on you the entire time.
you took exam after exam, which, in of itself, is a long, stressful process. the bell rang throughout the school, & your classmates shuffled out of the room to go to their last period. finally, it was study hall. you threw everything into your backpack without a care. you were practically panting.
throughout the school day, the pressure building inside of you only gotten worse. you couldn't stop thinking about katsuki. his god-sent body, his perfect face, his rugged voice. god, he turned you on so much-- too much, actually.
you felt bad for ignoring all of his texts throughout the day. if you didn't, however, you had a feeling you would've sent some embarrassing messages.
as you exited your class, someone grasped your wrist, dragging you out of the school. their touch lit you on fire. you knew exactly who it was. "let me go, katsuki."
"no, not until you tell me what i did!" he growled at you. he doesn't even realize how wet i am for him-
you had to shut off your thoughts, but that's easier said than done.
"i told you already. you didn't do anything."
"well something is going on with you. tell me what's happening," he raised his voice, a vice grip still hanging onto your wrist. you were getting overstimulated & overwhelmed. once again, you couldn't help the angry tears from forming. you couldn't help but hyperfixate on your panties brushing against your sensitive clit. you couldn't help that your nipples were painfully perked.
you can't just admit that though. it's such a stupid problem to you. you felt so wrong & disgusting for thinking about sex all day. "you wouldn't understand!" you finally yelled back. "you wouldn't get it."
he didn't respond. katsuki continued to drag you throughout campus, leaving you with your thoughts.
god, i made him mad, you mentally cried out. hopefully he'll hate fuck you then-
you want to rip out your own brain & throw it on the concrete. it was a constant cycle of that the entire walk.
a few moments later, you realized you were in his dorm, sitting on his bed with him across from you in his desk chair. both of your hands were in his as he brushed his thumbs against your knuckles. that alone gave you goosebumps. "please tell me what's wrong, baby," he said in a hushed near-whimper. "i'm worried about you."
"you really wouldn't get it, katsuki," you whispered, finally letting a few tears roll down your cheek.
he placed his index finger underneath your chin. he gently raised your head, your gaze following suit. the two of you locked eyes, his swirling with worry & yours sprawling in uncertainty. "then make me understand."
"it's my stupid quirk," you exasperated. you tried coming up with ways of how to say what you want to say without scaring him off.
"what about it?" he asked.
"you have such a nice quirk, you know," you started, avoiding his question. "it's just so much flashier & cooler than mine. there's already a rabbit hero!"
"what are you talking about? you do have a cool quirk."
"i'm a bunnygirl. nothing more. people already know what to expect-"
"what is this really about? you brag all the time how you get to come up with new ways to make your quirk yours," he countered, not convinced with your answer. "there's something more, isn't there?"
katsuki was so good at reading people-- at reading you. the other times you've confided in him, your voice lacked clarity, stability. why would it be different now? it wouldn't, that's why.
"yeah, there is," you admitted, tugging on his hands so he'd get closer. "i just don't know how you'll react or how to even say it-"
"it's fine. just tell me, i won't get mad or judge you or whatever," he assured. you began to cry even more, staining his dress shirt.
he smelt so good, i can feel his muscles through his shirt, he's so sexy-
"i need you," you muttered into his chest.
"what was that, baby?"
you glanced up at him, eyes glossy, lips pouted. "i need you."
katsuki's breath hitched, "what are you talking about?" yes, he's had theories about your quirk & its drawbacks. was this it? was his theory correct?
more tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks as you tried to explained, "i have... you know."
his cock stirred, scolding himself mentally for getting hard during a time like this. "have what?" he wanted you to say it, confirm his suspicions.
you took a deep breath. "i have this thing every month or so, & it just makes things so much harder."
"tell me." his stern voice sent shockwaves through you.
it made you obey him automatically, robotically. "i'm going through heat." a silence followed. "it's normal for people with quirks like mine to go through this. i usually have repressants! & i know this probably makes you so uncomfortable; i understand if you don't want to be-"
-- nsfw starts here --
katsuki cut off your rambling, almost offended. "don't ever say that. i want you, all of you."
"p-please don't say such things," you begged him as you felt your pussy throb. "i'm r-really trying to hold back-"
"let me take care of you, princess," katsuki purred, finger tips ghosting over your exposed thighs. he buried his face into the crook of your neck. "do you want this, y/n? because i want you right now. if you tell me you don't want this, i'll stop."
all you could do is nod, your breath turning uneven.
"say it, y/n."
"i need you so bad. please, katsuki," you cried out as you rubbed your legs together.
he smirked into your neck before he started kissing your neck. you couldn't help but whimper. he noticed you holding back, so he bit your neck. he sucked hickeys all over your neck. your unsteady breathes turned into needy moans.
"t-take off my shirt, please-"
katsuki took in your demand by ripping it off your skin as if it were poison. he unhooked your bra, throwing it on the floor. "ah fuck," he groaned, cupping your breasts.
"are they o-okay?"
"you're fuckin' perfect, baby."
with one, he replaced his rough, calloused hand with his mouth. you grinder against his thigh as flicked your nipple with his tongue. "k-katsuki~"
he switched to the other one, giving it the same treatment. "all mine," he growled in between. he nipped at the skin around your nipples. your neck & chest were soon littered with purple marks & bites.
"let me touch you," you begged & you began to fidget with the buttons of his shirt. "take this off~"
"so needy, aren't you, princess," katsuki teased, yet he gave into you. he threw off his shirt, looming over you. goosebumps pricked at your skin, all over your arms down to your legs. you found yourself trailing your hands all over his abs, his muscular arms, around his back. it was like your hands had a mind of their own.
you flipped the two of you around, so now he was under you. "c-can i please mark you?"
he let out a laugh of amusement, making your face turn a deep red. "you don't have to ask, baby," he told you. as a response, you mimicked his actions from earlier. your lips kissed all over his neck, leaving marks in its wake. you trailed down to his chest, then his abs then his v-line until you reached the band of his pants.
the entire time, he was groaning, feeding you praises that shot straight through your core. when you stopped, he looked down at you, & there you were, staring back at him with eager, wide eyes. he could read you so well. "go ahead, y/n. pull them down."
to which you did. you hands hooked both his uniform pants & his boxers. you pulled them down, & your mouth watered when his cock sprung out. "i-it's so big," you moaned; you meant to only think that, but you couldn't help it.
his mushroom tip beaded precum, his veiny shaft twitched in anticipation. "you see how hard i am for you? all for you," katsuki told you, watching your eyes dart to his then back down to his cock.
you started licking him to test the waters. you saw as his eyebrows furrowed together, his mouth agape, narrowed eyes. your licks evolved into you sticking his tip into your mouth. your tongue flicked around his cock. you crossed your eyes & whined when you tasted his precum. thanks to his quirk, it tasted almost sweet, salty, & god, was it addicting.
you bobbed your head up & down his thick rod. the tip hit the back of your throat while spit flooded your mouth. it was hard to breath, but you didn't care. having katsuki inside of you was more important than breathing. "slow down. you're gonna make me cum, good girl."
that was enough inspiration for you. you needed his cum. you forced your head all the way down his cock, your nose buried in his pubes. your eyes watered (for the fifth time today), & you stared into katsuki's eyes. both of his hands tangled themselves into your hair. "i'm gonna fuck that slutty, little throat, okay? just tap if it's too much," he informed, but he had a feeling you were going let him do whatever he wanted.
you moaned as a way to let him know that you heard him. the vibrations quivered his tip. "mmm, fuck. you're doing so good," he praised, jutting his hips forward the drawing them back.
his thrusts at first were small, in fear he was hurting you. however, as he looked down at you, your eyes rolled back, drool spilling out of your mouth, rubbing your aching clit for some sort of release, he couldn't hold back. he started using your throat as a fuck toy.
fast & rough, & all you could do was take it. take it, even though you're crying & it's hard to breath. "i'm close," he uttered out in between moans. his sultry voice turned a pitch higher in a humiliating tease, "you want my cum, baby? huh? c'mon, tell me you want it."
you choked out muffled, "yes please" & "cum down my throat please." he laughed at you trying to form sentences with your mouth stuffed. "such an eager bitch. fine, i'll give you what you want."
he thrusted his hips forwards, keeping your head in place. you face smushed against his hips. his cock twitched as he unloaded spurts of cum down your throat.
he pulled away, & strings of saliva mixed with his semen leaked onto your skirt. you looked back up at him, finding his cock still erect. "you look so surprised," katsuki said as he caught his breath. "i'm still so hard for you. after all, i told you i was going to take care of you."
"p-please have sex with me," you barely even whispered.
"what was that?"
"please-"
"i still can't hear you," katsuki told you, stroking his dick. he really knew how to push your buttons
"please fuck me, katsuki! i need it, i need you so bad~ i need your big cock inside of me," you blurted out. you finally let you stupid, nasty fantasies get the better of you.
judging from katsuki's smug expression, he wanted you to indulge in them. "alright, alright. you've been such a good girl for me. it's the least i could do," he shrugged before flipping you over so you were trapped under him. even in your most intimate moments, he was cocky. & god, did it make your pussy wet.
as he started to pull your skirt down, your hands shot to grab his wrists. "no, fuck me now, i can't wait. it hurts too bad," you whined, your glossy lips pouting.
"of course, princess," he said with a smirk. "whatever you want." katsuki's fingers dove under your skirt to push your panties out of the way. he held your legs up, placing your calves over his shoulders.
he lubed the tip of his dick with your juices by running it through your folds. "you're so wet for me, good girl."
"it's all for you, katsuki~" you purred, anticipation practically killing you. you felt pride as he turned his head to kiss the meat of your calf in approval.
"can't let it go to waste," he told you. he lined his thick, heavy cock with your entrance. something must've taken over you because, the moment it lined up with your hole, you shoved your hips forward with your entire body.
you let out a squeal of pleasure, your pussy stretching to accommodate for katsuki's lengthy cock. "shit, baby, you almost knocked me over," he chuckled as he readjusted. both of his hands were on your hips.
"shut up & fuck me," you growled at him. his cock twitched, brow raised in amusement.
"yes ma'am," he replied, "but remember you said that." from the get-go, his thrusts were powerful, immediately finding the cervix. your nails dug into his biceps down to his wrists. moans, whimpers, & screams spilled out of your lips.
katsuki took his fingers to your mouth & demanded in a low voice, "suck."
the action made you quiet down. he found your g-spot soon after, & you felt lightheaded. with his fingers down your throat, his cock abusing your most sensitive spot, & katsuki whispering dirty nothings into your ears, you shut your eyes & released all the tension building up.
"f-f-fuck, i-i'm cumming, katsuki," you rasped, voice having a small lisp thanks to his fingers. you squirted all over his abdomen, breath heavy & uneven.
he didn't stop though. he still rammed his big fuckin' dick in & out of you, not letting you calm down from your euphoric high. in fact, his hand that you slobbered all over found their way to your clit. he drew small circles around it. "ah, katsuki!" you moaned. "it's too much!"
"you'll be a good girl, & take it, won't you? i haven't cum inside you yet," he responded while his other hand pinched your nipples.
"i-i-i'll be a good girl, katsuki~" you slurred, speaking on beat with his thrusts. he made you cum three more times then you felt as his hips became more robotic, shorter, uncalculated.
"i'm cumming," he groaned through gritted teeth. "i'm cumming. fuckin' take all of it." thick jets of hot, white cum stained your walls. his dick pulsated inside of you. you came again; who could blame you?
he took a few deep breaths, collapsing on top of you as he pulled out of your pussy. cum spilled out of you & onto his sheets. he embraced you, whispering, "round two?"
4K notes · View notes
onlyseokmins · 10 months
Text
size matters • l.c.
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Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬
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"I'm worried my dick's too big."
Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.
He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.
And no one wants that.
"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."
Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 
He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.
"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"
"You're drunk."
"So are you." 
Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.
"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."
You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."
"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."
"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."
Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 
"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 
You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 
He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."
"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."
"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."
"You know I'm not!"
"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."
Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"
"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."
Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.
Or maybe that's just the alcohol.
Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 
"Are you flaccid right now?"
"What's it to you?"
"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."
He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."
"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 
"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.
"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"
Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 
"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"
"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."
"Then you should try harder."
He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 
Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 
Like always.
Except it's not.
All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 
You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.
"Am I boring you, baby?"
"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"
He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"
"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."
"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."
"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."
"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"
Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."
"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"
The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.
You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"
"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 
That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.
"Ah, well, so do I!" 
Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.
Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.
Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 
While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 
"I wanna go home."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just feel like leaving."
He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."
"Ooh… are you jealous?"
"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."
"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."
His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.
Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 
Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.
"You want to go to my place?"
"Yeah."
He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"
"Sure. Maybe condoms too."
"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"
Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 
There's no one there, of course.
"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."
"You do? Good."
"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"
Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"
"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"
"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."
His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"
"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"
One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."
"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."
He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"
"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"
"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 
Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 
"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."
Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 
But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 
He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.
"You've been thinking about me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Your pussy has too?"
"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."
"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"
And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.
Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.
He needs to get home fast. Now.
The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.
"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."
The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 
"No. You have to wait."
"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."
"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"
You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 
He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.
"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."
His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 
"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.
"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."
"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."
Neither one of you care. 
In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 
Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 
"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."
Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 
Oh, you cannot wait.
He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!
Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.
Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 
"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 
Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.
"C'mon bestie, please."
"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."
"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"
Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 
"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"
His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 
"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.
And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.
The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 
Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.
"You can't make me cum."
"What? Why? Need to stretch — "
"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"
"God, yes."
You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."
Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.
It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.
He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.
Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.
There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 
It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.
And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 
The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 
Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.
You're on the brink of climaxing.
And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.
Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.
He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 
"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.
"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."
"Can't believe you didn't rip them."
"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.
"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"
"Huh?"
It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."
With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.
"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."
"You love it."
"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."
You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.
"Someone's full of surprises."
"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."
Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "
"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 
You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.
"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.
His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.
It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.
"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.
You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.
It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 
Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.
He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.
It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.
"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."
"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"
"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"
You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 
"Mhm… yeah."
"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"
"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"
"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"
"Mhmph! More… more!"
A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 
Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.
He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.
Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.
"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"
Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.
"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."
"All… all for you!"
Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"
Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.
That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 
His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.
"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."
You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."
"That's not how it works."
Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 
You're honestly a little offended. 
He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 
Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 
You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 
"Good thing I'm flexible." 
"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 
"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 
You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 
"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."
What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 
To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 
Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 
But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.
Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 
It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"
And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.
White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 
Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.
"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."
He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.
Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 
Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.
It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.
"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.
He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 
Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"
You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.
There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."
"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."
"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"
"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."
"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."
"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."
It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.
"So, you're mine now too?"
"If that's okay with you."
And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.
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onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©
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I just had the Idea, like Imagine, the S/o from Muzan, Koku, Douma and Akaza (seperate) finds a spider and is REALLY Scared of it. How would they react?
The mental image of the S/O shrieking in terror and one of these men just absolutely pegging it all the way from one side of the house to the other just to find out its a spider that scared the S/O amuses me greatly (≧▽≦)
Also I have arachnophobia and honestly spiders get my skin crawling in terror... they just give me the ick
Honestly thanks for sliding this into my askbox! It was fun to imagine and write what these men would think and do during such a scenario!
Muzan Kibutsuji, Kokushibo, Douma/Doma + Akaza reacting to their S/O being scared of a spider - Headcanons:
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Muzan Kibutsuji:
He was just doing an experiment, just messing around with chemicals to get a reaction
When he hear's you scream
Fucking speed demon o'hoy as he speeds across the house to find you, nails hardening and lengthen and tentacles wanting to burst out from his skin to get rid of what's harmed you
And when he reaches where you are, hands cracking the foundations of the door with a snarl on his lips until his eyes land on you
Muzan stands there - his fear quells and is instead replaced with a thankful neutrality - breathing slowly reverting back to normal as he takes in your shaken form standing on one of the tables in the home's library
With a quirk of his brow his gaze drifts to where your shaking finger points and lands on the calm + poised form of a spider
Muzan stares at it
The spider stares back
Before it's promptly squished under a book
Your carried out of the room like a bride
"For scaring me you get to sit in my lab" Muzan says, going back to mixing chemicals "And if your good, it'll be me that makes you scream in ecstasy later"
Muzan knows spider's scare you so usually just kills them before you see one - although the odd few go get to live
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Kokushibo:
Kokushibo was meditating - his usual activity after a long day
It's silent, the house in a state of stillness and the world outside holding it's breathe as Kokushibo breathes in...then out..
And its shattered by your scream of fear
His body moves quicker than his mind
Hand on his katana as he rushes to where you are and as see's you cowering in the hallway, eyes flicking to and fro to see where your fear is placed to see the 8-legged fiend
"It's a spider...." He states plainly, eyes blinking as his stance relaxes "......again?"
"Can you please make it go away!" You whisper-shout, eyes peaking through your fingers at him "It's really scary"
Kokushibo simply sighs
Moving silently to catch the spider with a drinking cup and a piece of parchment from the ceiling and releasing it outside
He picks you up and dusts you off with a small smile
"Next time just shout my name, I'll handle the spiders"
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Douma/Doma:
Douma/Doma had just finished a sermon
Narrowly escaping his followers clutches from having to give more false kindness and advice that he probably didn't mean
Until he hears you scream
Fear flushes his insides cold and worry makes his chest ache as he runs to your shared quarters
First, he blinks - taking in the scene of your shaking form and the rather harmless spider on the wall
Then his brain starts working at a mile a minute before everything clicks into place
You (S/O) + Spider + Scream from you = Fear = New form of entertainment
Douma/Doma smirks - something filled with malice and a polite mock sympathy - before making his way across the room to soothe you
Before promptly catching the spider and chasing you with it...
Yes, this is funny for him and no, he won't stop until he's tired
After having his fun - for what felt like a millennia - Douma/Doma releases the spider outside
And with a chuckle, kisses your forehead and leaves you
Douma/Doma just doesn't understand why you're scared of spiders until you sit down with him before bed and tell him off for earlier
After that he orders his followers to either kill spiders on sight or move them into the garden
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Akaza:
He was training in the garden when he heard you scream out in terror
Making record time to get to you by simply leaping from the garden through the bedroom's open window
Eyes moving wildly trying to find the source of your terror - his heart aching when seeing your eyes shimmering with tears and a scared wobble to your lip
Until landing on the black mass on the floor scuttling about... "a....a spider?" He says inquisitively, his head tilting in confusion
When he realizes that it was the spider that made you scream, Akaza kinda just stares at it for a little while before joining you on the bed to get away from it and soothe you
Then 5 minutes roll into 10 minutes and your both sat there, chilling on the bed in a hug and waiting for the spider to leave
"It's gone now...."
Accidentally stands on the spider
Yes, he screams
No, the spider doesn't make it
But you do get to laugh
Akaza now doesn't go near spiders....
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emmyrosee · 7 months
Text
Kita shinsuke gets confused after you start dating.
It’s not like it’s been a long time, far from it, but you felt so comfortable in his everyday life that he stops thinking too hard about your interactions.
You reach for his hand, he takes it. You shiver, he gives you his jacket. You’re hungry, he shares his snacks.
He gives you a compliment, you… hate him?
You must. There it is, in capital letters under his own blue text: OFBEOD KITAAAA I HATE YOU FRRR😭😭
His heart races as he rereads the text over and over again, unsure of what he could’ve possibly said to have you say ‘I hate you.’
Whatever it is, he needs to find a way to apologize.
The idea of upsetting you in a way he barely understands is concerning, it makes him extremely saddened, and he picks up his pace to get to practice.
He’s sure there’s someone there that can help him decipher your distress.
Leave it to the two twins, tying their shoes in sync, to be the first ones to notice his stress.
“Kita-San?” Osamu asks, brows furrowing. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” atsumu continues. “You’re late- you’re NEVER late.”
“And you look like you’re about to upchuck.”
Lovely.
“Osamu, Atsumu,” he says, breath shaky as the twins turn to look up at him. “You’re… familiar with relationships, yes?”
“Well he’s been single since birth-“
“HEY!”
“-but I’ve got a little bit of knowledge. What’s up?”
Kita gnaws on his lip before he passes the phone to the grey haired twin, showing him your sudden outburst of hatred towards him. Osamu quirks a confused brow as his eyes glaze over the text, the blonde twin quickly popping on his feet to peer over Osamu’s shoulder to read along.
Osamu flicks his eyes from his phone up to Kita, “what am I looking at?”
“She hates me,” he says, a frightened lilt in his tone. “And I don’t know what I do. I don’t know what I did,or said, or how I can fix this. And I…” he takes a breath in to calm down, “I need your help.”
Osamu stays silent for a bit, and atsumu cracks a cheesy smile, “cap… you didn’t do anything.”
“Huh?”
“You didn’t do anything- this is just… how some girls act,” osamu explains, and kita feels his cheeks warm up from the sudden crowd that’s gathered.
“Are we teaching Kita-San something now?” Suna teases, peering over Osamu’s shoulder to read the message. “Teaching him about giiiiiirls.”
And shinsuke wants to say something back, about how he knows girls and he doesn’t need to be taught anything…
But maybe he does.
Osamu takes a small breath in before passing his captain’s phone back to him, “sometimes, girls are just… uhm….”
“Aggressive?” He asks, and Akagi chuckles behind him.
“No,” Osamu hums thoughtfully. “I would probably say more… excited than guys, and it makes them kinda wanna… be… ferocious?”
“Feral?” Suna chimes in.
“Buck wild?”
“How about all of the above,” Aran says easily.
Kita quirks a brow, “so she doesn’t actually hate me?”
“No! She’s just excited that you complimented her, I think.”
“Yeah Kita-San,” Atsumu chuckles. “Girls only say they hate you when they love you; that’s like. A thing.”
“They also bite,” Akagi cuts in. “For… some reason.”
“They BITE?”
“I’ve been smacked so many times,” Aran playfully laments, and Shinsuke’s head whips towards him, only to make the ace shrug, “what? She’ll get excited to see you, or something good happens, and she just. Smacks your arms. It doesn’t always hurt.”
“What do you mean ALWAYS!” Shinsuke is suddenly extremely nervous about whether he received a girlfriend… or a pitbull.
“Or she’ll bite you,” Suna hums.
“Or says she hates you,” the twins circle back. At seeing their captains new nerves, they rise to their feet to clap him on the back.
“You’ll be fine, cap,” the blonde assures. “It’ll catch you by surprise, sure.”
“May be a little painful,” osamu snorts.
Atsumu snickers, “but you’ve liked her for a long time. And if it’s too much, you tell her to stop.” He nods before turning on his heel and mumbling a soft ‘hell knows you’re good at that,’ under his breath.
The conversation makes Shinsuke… convinced. He’s sure that there’s minimal that you can do to upset him, even if these methods of love lean far into the unconventional. He gnaws at his lip as the crowd disperses, golden eyes glazing over the contents once more.
He cracks a small smile, taking a soft breath in and letting his fingers take over typing and saying everything he could want to say in just a few words.
SENT I love you, too :)
You reply with an absolute jumble of words and praises, capitals and random emojis. He smiles before planting his phone in his bag and heading out to practice, feeling it buzz more than a few times in his pocket.
Maybe a few well intentioned bite marks wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him.
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thebibliosphere · 6 months
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From what I've seen, I think the Batkids would like your book.
Hunger Pangs? You flatter me.
But also, yes thank you for this particular strain on self-indulgent brain rot. I am going to be absolutely abnormal about this.
I’d like to imagine Dick picks it up at an airport somewhere on his way back from a trip and becomes hooked on the “clever, pretty, jumps-from balconies-for-the-thrill-of-the-fall vampire and goes, “oh, same.”
The fact that it’s got a rugged, soldiery werewolf with a heart of gold who enforces self-care as a form of kink-play is also doing stuff to his brain. (That’s a thing? He can… he can ask someone for that? Who does he ask for that? It’s been weeks since he slept more than a few hours and ate more than cereal for dinner. Seriously, who does he ask? How much is it? He’s got money. He’ll pay.) The uh, the need for validation and the budding praise kink is also hitting a little too close to home.
As is “all powerful witch with the power to pick you up with her mind and throw you around like a rag doll.” (LiStEN, he spent a large chunk of his formative years surrounded by tight spandex suits, villains with sexy mind control pollen and getting kidnapped and tied up every other week. It’s not his fault he’s Like This.)
He’s not mad about it, though.
*
Babs catches him re-reading it during downtime. She’s not even that interested, more asking what it is to be polite, but the way Dick jumps and turns red, like he didn’t even realize she was in the room is… intriguing.
“I can see why you like it,” she says, several days later, casually drinking her coffee while Dick stares straight ahead, willing the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Magic, politics. Saving the world from certain doom with the power of knowledge and ecological preservation.” She glances sideways at him. “Vlad’s got some interesting quirks.”
“Shut up.”
“Are we sure you’ve not been compromised?”
“Babs, I mean it.”
“Mean what?” Tim appears in the kitchen as though from nowhere, pouring a red bull into the coffee pot.
No one tries to stop him.
“Dick’s reading a new book,” Babs says, ignoring the murderous look Dick sends her way.
“Oh? What book? Is it any good?”
“Uh, yeah, uh.” Dick rubs at the back of his neck, glaring daggers at Babs as she rolls out of the room, cackling. “It’s uh, romance. Kind of silly actually…”
“Oh?”
Dick nods. “It’s got a vampire and a werewolf. Two guys. And a… well she’s just sort of magic. They break into a library to save the world from ecological disaster. They’re all bi. Together. Or they will be in the next book. This one’s more about the vampire and the werewolf getting together. Um...”
Tim’s gone very still in the way he does when his brain has caught hold of something and he’s absolutely about to let it consume him. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Dick shrugs. “It’s got some kink in it,” he warns, not wanting to expose his younger brother to something he’s not ready for. Which is ludicrous because he’s Robin. And from the way Tim’s not drinking his ‘coffee’ he can tell this is only going to go one way no matter what he says. He brightens, remembering something. “But there’s, like, a non smutty version too? Or a less smutty version, I guess? I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet. I could, we could go to the bookstore, maybe stop at the art store too…”
“I’ll meet you in the car.”
*
“So,” Jason says, and Dick can already tell where this is going by the shit-eating grin on his face. “Vampires, huh? Or is it more the werewolves you’re into?”
“Who told you?” Dick bemoans. “Was it Babs?” He bets it was Babs. Fucking Babs.
“Oh, no one told me anything Boy Wonder. Tim found out the author has a go-fund-me for some medical shit that exceeded his monthly allowance and he’s been harassing Bruce to “fix it” for several days now. He’s down in the cave making a nuisance of himself right now. Apparently he quote “needs more of the bisexual monster books Dick told him about” unquote, and the author can’t do shit if she up and fucking dies because this country’s a fucking for-profit shit hole.”
Dick places his head in his hands. “Oh, God. Is Bruce mad? He’s mad, isn’t he?”
Jason shrugs. “Couldn’t tell you. Last I heard, Tim was playing him the audiobook over the bat computer to make his case.”
Dick let’s his head thump against the table. This is it. This is his villain origin story. He’s going to run away and join the Rogues. Or maybe he’ll go back to the Circus. Either option is better than the idea of having to meet Bruce’s eye later over the dinner table.
“Personally, I thought the plot was a little weak but the characters are compelling,” Jason says, sipping his herbal tea. “I liked the chill necromancer doctor. I feel like he’d be able to fix me.”
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Text
Never letting you go (Max Verstappen)
There was nothing stopping you and Max now
Note: english is not my first language. This is the first Max big piece to sort of introduce their arc, let me know what you think! ✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions Jos forbidding Max and reader of dating, curse words
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"What do you mean you're going to the Grand Prix?", you quirked your brow as your friend Cara sipped her coffee, "I thought you said you'd never be caught dead one of those", you chuckled.
"Matthew's company got a bunch of passes because they got a deal with one of the sponsors - I think? - I don't know much about it, all I know is that he brought three home because he thought you'd like to join us", she offered.
You never hid how much you enjoyed watching Formula One, even if watching it, especially in the last couple of years, often brought emotionally heavy memories back.
"That's nice, count me in! What type of passes are they?", you questioned, taking a bite from the cake on your plate.
"I don't know, he was talking all about them and I must admit I zoned out", she admitted, "but he said they were really good! He was very surprised at what the passes had, but his boss is very cheap so I don't know how great they actually are considering the possible comparison", she smiled as you nodded, "count me in, though. It's been a while since I stepped foot on one of them", you recalled.
The last race you attended was when Max was in Formula Three still. The paddock was so big and crowded with so many people, you doubted you'd bump into him. It wouldn't do you any good, would it?
"How did you get hospitality passes?", you gasped as Matthew handed you the lanyard, "they've invested a lot of money so I guess the sponsors didn't mind loosening the belt", he shrugged, putting his own around his neck after scanning it.
"Thank you for this, by the way", you flashed him a smile, "no worries, Y/N, the only way I could convince her to come was if you joined us, and I don't mind actually spending the weekend with someone who also knows a little about the sport", he chuckled as Cara laced her arms with her fiancé, "I'm glad he has you to talk to as well, there's only so much feigned interest I can muster up", she rolled her eyes.
Scuderia Alpha Tauri had been Toro Rosso, but despite the name change, as soon as you walked in, some faces were still familiar from the pictures you got sent from Max on gia first season with them.
"Why did you get interested in Formula One anyway?", Matthew asked you while you sipped on a latte, "I always loved the idea of the cars going very very fast, and then when I actually had the knowledge to understand how they worked, they really intrigued me", you offered, "I also had a friend who was very into it, so he also escalated my interest in it".
"He didn't pull you enough to work on motor sport though?", Matt wondered.
"I didn't enjoy the competitiveness of all of it", you admitted, "it's very strict, and if you want to be successful, it takes the good things away - your family, your friends", you opened your heart to him, thankfully noticing it and sorting the heartfelt confession seemingly about a job, "they travel a lot and they're really competitive that is, I'd never be able to do that for a job", you smiled, hoping you saved yourself from further questions.
"That's why you did mechanical engineering, then?", he asked, "for the most part, yes", you replied, "Oh, they're starting free practice", you smiled, looking over to the track from the balcony seats.
Sophie walked into the RedBull hospitality, looking for her family. Because it was Monaco, they felt safe enough to bring the Lio and Luka to the paddock, knowing they would be close to home in case things didn't go well as planned.
"Grandma!", the oldest boy called her from his spot on his father's lap, his brother sleeping on his mother's chest.
"Hey, my dears", she greeted, "You won't believe who I found on my way here", Sophie began, "I'm surprised Max didn't tell me he invited Y/N. It's a shame she isn't here with us, though", she commented.
The first indicator of surprise should be the way the blond woman looked at her mother, "what do you mean Y/N is here?", she whisper-yelled.
"I just saw her in the Alpha Tauri hospitality, I was walking with Helmut and he was headed there, that's when I noticed her. Max didn't tell you?", she quirked an eyebrow just as her son sat down next to them.
"What didn't I tell who?", Max spoke, setting his plate of food down on the table.
"Why didn't you tell us you invited Y/N for this weekend?", Victoria was the first to scold him, hitting his arm in a sisterly manner, "and in Alpha Tauri of all places? I'm sure they would've bent the rules a little and give you a pass so she could be a RedBull guest!".
Max thought he heard incorrectly. Y/N, his Y/N was in the paddock, in the sister team of the one he now drove for.
"I, I didn't offer her anything", Max said, his brother in-law looking at him weirdly as well, "I don't know how or why she is here, but I had nothing to do with it. We haven't spoken in a while", he mumbled. A while, three years, same thing, he supposes.
"Well, I just saw her. You should go say hi, I'm sure she would love to but she can't exactly find you where she is, it has to be the other way around", Sophie offered.
"What makes you believe she would?", Max questioned, both himself and his mother and sister.
"Because the way you never forgot her, she never forgot you", Victoria sterned, "don't you think she deserves your attention? She was in it for the long run, Max, and maybe she has moved on, maybe even has someone", the thought alone made Max loose his cool, "but she was your friend, the person you trusted most in the world and you let her slip".
"Don't sugar coat it, please", Max sarcastically replied.
"It's true, Max, and you know it", Sophie said, sensing her son didn't want to talk about the topic, but not allowing him to leave the table without a piece of her mind as well.
Max needed to put on his suit again, ready for qualifying, walking along the corridor until he found his door.
"Hey, before you go", Victoria called her brother as he was about to go into his driver's room, "Lio is really fussy, so we're just going back to your place, I'm sorry", she said.
"It's fine, whatever you feel the most comfortable with", he said, waving at his nephews and brother in-law.
"We will be supporting you from home, then", she said, kissing his cheek, "And Max? I know you're not used to it, but follow your heart", she smiled.
"Can I do that now?", he softly bit back, smiling and blushing at his words.
"What's stopping you?", Victoria said as she walked back to her family.
"Who is that?", Jos asked as Max asked him if he could invite you over for dinner before the season began.
The conversations with Toro Rosso were getting serious and the opportunity for a seat in Formula One was right there, up for him to grab if he worked enough.
"She's my friend, you know Y/N", Max tried to reason with his father.
"For this to work, Max, I think you need to distance yourself from home", Jos advised, ignoring his mention of you and carrying on with his lecture, "I'm talking no parties, no trips to come and see friends and family - I really think those are just getting in the way between you and the career you deserve".
The statement was clear, and Max knew better than to question it.
"I've spoken to your mother - she wasn't the biggest fan -, but you really need to focus on this", Jos reiterated, "no friends, much less girlfriends", he chuckled.
The dinner ended up being just Jos, Max and Victoria, the thought of having you there quickly erased in his head.
When Max met up with you before he left for the season, he was antsy. Just a week before, you had stolen innocent kisses from eachother's lips and revelled in the feeling of being in eachother's embrace without a care in the world. And it felt good, so good, like the piece that was missing in Max's life finally completed the puzzle.
"Hey", you greeted, kissing the corner of his lips and allowing him to pull you down to sit on the sofa.
"I spoke to my dad, I'm leaving in a few days", Max said, "there's some testing they want me to do still", he mumbled, lacing your fingers in his.
"And where do we end up?", you asked the million euro question. Truthfully, you entertained the thought. Even though being away from Max for most of the year would be a challenge, the love you felt for him was too big, too great for you to forgo that challenge. You were his and he would be yours.
"It's not going to work, Y/N. I need to focus on racing", he stated blankly despite how much it hurt him to utter those words out to you as the conversation with his father resonated with him.
"Max your focus is getting a Formula One seat", his father sterned, "do you know how hard it is? How much effort and work you have to put in? There can't be any distractions!"
"But Y/N isn't a distraction!", Max reasoned. If anything, you were the one keeping him humble and with both feet on the ground at all times. You cared for him, not because of his racing, who he was or who he could become, but because you loved eachother.
You'd never do anything to ruin his career, Max thought as he worked up the courage to tell you all of it. He couldn't get distracted, not now. He couldn't afford making mistakes because he had a girlfriend back at home waiting on him.
Your understanding, however, wasn't aligned with his expectations. He hoped you'd fight, at least, but you swalled your tears and nodded, "okay, Max. I hope you get your seat, you deserve it so much, I know it will happen".
Max put in on pole, leaving you to smile and snap a picture of the moment, wondering if you'd have the courage to send it to him.
"So, does this mean it's over?", Cara asked, "Because I could do with going home, actually", she nudged.
"Let's go, then!", you smiled, putting your phone in your bag and looking for the way out, ending up following the other guests into the paddock.
"Y/N, dear!", you heard someone call your name, and on cue, you looked for the voice despite the fact that it wad unlikely someone recognised you there.
Sophie didn't age, you thought, as you looked at the source of the voice that called you.
"I'm not going to hold you up, guys, you can go!", you smiled, waving at Matthew and Cara once you assured them you would be fine.
"I'm sorry, Sophie - they're my friends, and he was the one who got the passes from his office", you apologised for leaving her to wait a little for you.
"It's alright, dear. It's been so long since I've seen you", she nudged, "I'm sure Max would love to see you, too!", she jumped straight in.
"Would he, though?", you squinted your eyes.
"He would, Y/N", Sophie said earnestly, "I saw you this morning - at Alpha Tauri -, and he knows you're here", she smiled, "I'm assuming you're watching the race, too. Pay him a visit, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder and left a kiss on your cheek, "He's also my ride home, so I need to go look for him! Bye, Y/N!".
Race day meant rush everywhere, so you got to the paddock just in time before everyone rushed inside, finding the perfect spot to watch the race.
"I need to take this call, one second", you said to Cara, recognising Max's contact on your phone.
"Y/N, hi! I didn't think you'd pick up actually", you could hear the nervousness on his voice, "thanks for the picture, by the way, it was very... nice".
"It's no problem really, I thought it would be a good memory to keep", you smiled, "are you ready for the race? Or do you want me to give you a pep talk?", you chuckled. Back in the day, whenever he didn't feel too confident about a race, you had the power to help him out his head in the right place and bring his winning mentality to light.
"I'm fine, actually", he smiled, "I- I was wondering if you'd like to meet up later", he gulped, "I'd like to talk to you, but it's difficult until the race finishes, and then debriefs and media and all that".
"Sure, text me when you're done then", you stated boldly, "have a good race Max, you know I'm supporting you".
"Even if you're with Alpha Tauri?", he joked.
"I never stopped supporting you, it's not going to be a guest pass that's going to change it", you said as he bid you goodbye, ending the call and finding your friends.
When Max won, you clapped unashamedly as everyone else seemed to join you in your excitement, and after the race celebrations were done with, you waited patiently for the text to get to your phone.
"So you're staying back?", Cara asked, "I am, I'm meeting a friend", you explained. At her curious stare, you furthered, "do you remember the guy I told you about when you tried to set up that double date?", she nodded, "yes, the guy you were friends with, and when you both wanted to take a step forward, he had this big shot as his dream career and his father wouldn't allow him to date anyone", she said as she realized, "my goodness, he's here? Y/N, go for it!", she encouraged, "I know you still have feelings for him, who knows? Maybe this is your chance to reconnect", she rubbed your shoulder.
After you bid goodbye to Cara and Matthew, a text go through to your phone.
From: Max
Mum is waiting for you at the door :)
Approaching the hospitality, you quickly spotted Sophie, "c'mon in, dear! Max wanted me to get you myself, he was afraid no one would ler you in", she chuckled, guiding you through until you were in their dining area.
"Y/N!", Max beamed, setting down the crayons he was drawing with at the table with Luka and walking up to you.
"Hey everyone!", you waved at Victoria, putting a pin the two little boys' curious stares as they looked at you so you could hug Max.
"Congratulations, Max, I knew you could do it", you whispered into his skin, his arms hugging you so tightly against him.
"Thank you, Y/N", he spoke, "I missed you so much, I missed this so much", he squeezed you one more time before allowing you to greet the rest of his family.
"This is Tom, and that's Lio and Luka", Victoria said after she hugged you tighlty, "say hi, guys!", she encouraged as the two little copies of Max waved back at you.
"We're going to head home, it was great seeing you, Y/N!", Sophie announced, "I'm sure we'll see eachother a lot more from now on", Victoria complimented, helping her husband pack up the kids' belongings and toys so they could retire to Max's apartment.
"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner sometime this week", he jumped straight forward, "I'm having dinner with the team today and then the rest of the grid want to go to the club, so I wouldn't be able to spend that much time with you, and I want to be able to just focus on you", he smiled.
"That's fine by me, I appreciate the thought", you smiled as he led you to one of the tables, asking one of the caffé staff for something to drink for the two of you.
“Listen, I think, I think we found each again for a reason", he began boldly, not sure if this was the way to go after not having spoken to you in a couple of years. Still, it wasn't a lie.
"Define found, considering we've been iving in the same city for nearly a year", you smiled, "although you don't spend much time here anyway, so I guess that's a nice enough excuse", you teased, your foot tapping his shin playfully under the table.
"So, Monaco, hm?", Max started, "I didn't expect you to live here out of all places", he nudged, wanting to know more about your move but afraid he was stepping in vulnerable territory.
"I did it because of my earnings for sure. I've got to save as much as I can on tax on the fortune I make as a female engineer", you sternly said as he looked the most surprised you'd ever seen him, "I'm joking - not all of us move to Monaco so our million euro salaries have better taxes", you teased.
"Why did you do it, then?", he asked, smiling at how familiar it all seemed. Just like old times, he thought.
"The company I work for was the one that needed the tax benefits", you clicked your tongue, "and they wanted people to move here. Only one of my colleagues moved here with her whole family, as they expected, so they ended up calling the ones that weren't attached to anything or anyone in particular, and I was one of them", you shrugged your shoulders, "I moved to a new country with a different language, the only people I knew were my work colleagues, so I had no one to complain about them to, but I make it work - at least I like to think I do", you smiled.
Not attached to anyone, he recalled, humming at your response, "it's not such a bad place to live, right? Granted I don't spend much time year, but still enough to appreciate it", Max spoke.
"How about you, Mr World Champion", you nudged, "how does it feel?".
"Obviously it's great, and everything that I worked for", he added, knowing the underlying topic in the conversation, "I get to drive fast cars and I travel the world, there's not much left for it to be the complete dream", he said, gingerly touching your fingers over the table and accepting your hold when you laced them together.
Conversation was flowing easily until one of the employees told Max that he would have to go and get ready for the dinner, meaning you would have to part ways.
"Does Tuesday work for you? I'm not sure how well I'll be tomorrow", he chuckled, "yes, that's fine by me, just text me the address and the time", you smiled, getting up and kissing his cheek, "have a good time, Max, but be careful with the alcohol, I'd hate to have to pick you up again", you reminded him of the time he got way too drunk and he insisted he would only go home if you came to pick him up.
.
Dinner was great and Max invited you back to his place, hoping you'd be able to talk properly about the elephant in the room in a more private and comfortable place.
"You're struggling there, aren't you? Even with your itty bitty small hands?", Max teased as your pinky just about stretched enough for you to not lose everything by dumping the contents of your bag on the sidewalk.
As you and Max left the restaurant, you fiddled with your wallet in your bag, hoping to keep the card the waiter gave you safe for the next time you wanted to visit the place.
"I do not have itty bitty small hands!", you argued, shaking your bag a little to make sure everything was safely in place.
"We need to have the same starting line - like", you rearranged them so your wrists would be touching. Still, it didn't make much of a difference on your end. It looked like it even highlighted a few more differences, "yours is much bigger, I give up", you giggled.
"See?", Max said as he held your hand out against his, "these are the size of fairy hands! Tinkerbell probably has bigger hands than yours!", he exclaimed as you noticed how much bigger his hand was compared to yours. His fingers were a little bit thicker than yours and his palm covered all of your hand almost completely.
Now or never, Max thought as he laced your fingers in his once you let your arms drop and rest by your side. His thumb rubbed your skin and warmed you up, "was this your plan all along?", you wondered, feeling the bravery around you two and choosing to act on it.
"Lacing my hand in yours or proving to you that my biggest mistake was letting you go all of those years ago?", Max stated as he looked deeply into your eyes.
"We should talk about this inside", you bit your lip, allowing him to guide you through the apartment complex he lived in.
His living room was decorated in classy tones, probably with the help of him mother and sister, as you sat down on the sofa and face eachother.
"I know I apologised at the time, but I'm still sorry, Y/N", Max said, "at the time it was the dream and I didn't have much room for my own decisions. Still, I should've fought", he concluded.
"You didn't blatantly acknowledge it and decided we couldn't be together, Max", you conforted despite the hurt you felt at the time, "it hurt, - like a bitch actually -, but not because you were following your dream. I never wanted to pull you back and get in the way of your achievements", you gulped, "but I would be lying if I said I wouldn't like to give this a go, to give us a chance", you smiled.
"I know I have crazy schedules - I am barely here during the season -, but you were always the one I thought about. When I first raced in F1, when I got my first podium, my first win, my bad races - I wanted you there", he admitted, blue eyes looking into yours, "I can't promise that it will be easy, but I'll never risk you or our relationship, that's non negotiable", he stated.
Moving closer to him, you cupped his cheek with your palm, the slight stubble tickling your skin, "I'm in, Max", you smiled, taking the plunge and kissing his mouth, lips moving in sync as his hands pulled you into his lap.
The blissful moment was interrupted by a meow, Jimmy and Sassy walking into the living room, "Oh, guys", Max held you close to him as the cats sniffled you, "this is Jimmy and Sassy, my cats, took then long enough to leave the guest bedroom", he smiled as you tried to pet them, "cute, they seem nice enough - for cats anyway".
612 notes · View notes
noraszoo · 6 months
Text
bsd characters and how they sleep (with you)
i fear i wrote this in twenty minutes in a feverish haze and have no idea how we got here... forgive any spelling/grammar errors but i hope it's cutesy characters: dazai, atsushi, yosano, chuuya, ranpo im taking requests!
°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.
dazai: 
ABSOLUTELY EASILY the clingiest one
will completely wrap his limbs around you from behind or from the front 
it’s so hard to pry him off of you in the morning it’s like he gets ten times heavier when he’s asleep 
also sleeps without socks but complains about being cold all the time 
makes the both of you sleep with not one but TWO weighted blankets some days 
it’s a little ridiculous but you put up with it because you love him 
he also runs SO COLD 
toes are freezing, hands are freezing, NOSE is freezing 
he sticks his nose into the crook of your neck when he’s clinging onto you 
you’ve only shrieked ONCE from the shock. maybe twice 
manages to stay still all throughout the night but that’s only because he’s too busy latching onto you like a leech
atsushi: 
too nervous to ask you to hold him so instead he’ll hold your hand while you sleep 
it’s the sweetest thing ever 
absolutely wakes up in the middle of the night if he feels your hand slip from his and will reach for it again 
it takes like a month of sleeping in the same bed for you to recognize all his little quirks and the things he likes 
you learn that he loves it when you kiss his hairline right before he falls asleep 
it leads to a lot more peaceful nights and he doesn’t wake up in a cold sweat as often anymore 
sometimes he ends up wrapping an arm around your torso while he’s asleep without even realizing it 
when he wakes up he doesn’t get embarrassed or anything but DOES pretend to be asleep until you get up so that he can stick to you for longer 
yosano: 
THE MOST VIOLENT SLEEPER 
sleeping in the same bed with her is a death wish most nights 
she rolls around, flails, will wake up in the middle of the night and mumble something unintelligible before hitting you in the face
she’s crazy! she’s your hot gf! you sit there and take it like the loyal spouse you are! 
her FAVE way to sleep is face down, starfish-pose on top of you 
yes you can’t breathe at all but yes the weight is comforting 
when she sleeps like that sometimes you’ll get a little treat during the night, and instead of hitting you in the face in her sleep she’ll kiss along your cheek all warm and soft 
sometimes that ends in her drooling on your face 
makes up for her drool and nightly attacks by waking you up with kisses (and bites on your CHEEK) and even breakfast when she’s in a good mood 
chuuya: 
he loves you so much but he is also dramatic 
which means… he has his own sleep routine and bed set-up and if it’s disturbed he will not get a second of rest 
he invests in a california king bed so that you can have your side and he can have his side 
he sets the thermostat to a certain temperature, picks out blankets depending on the weather, adjusts his pillows every night, sleeps with an eyemask… it’s a little bit overkill 
you don’t make fun of him for it because you know he’d kill you 
sleeps on his back with his hands folded on his chest like he’s in a COFFIN
also sleeps like the dead and you’ve woken up a few times crying his name because you thought he was actually dead
if you try holding onto him during the night he’ll flinch without meaning to and start mumbling curses to himself 
it takes you a while to get used to it 
he makes up for his stringent sleep routine by letting you nap on the couch with him once in a while 
he can handle that at the very least
will totally collapse right on top of you on the couch and fall asleep after a long day at work 
sedated immediately if you run your fingers through his hair 
lets out the cutest snores BUT DO NOT TELL HIM THAT OR HE WILL NEVER SLEEP ON YOU AGAIN!!!!
ranpo: 
so incredibly fussy 
moves around so much in his sleep and can never get comfortable 
is always pushing your head off your pillows and rotating them so that you can both sleep on the cold side 
kicks off his blankets just to complain about being cold and makes you lean over the bed to pick the covers back up and tuck him in 
favorite way to sleep with you is facing you with his arms wrapped around your neck 
this DOES end up in him accidentally choking you sometimes 
if he gets too hot he has no shame in pushing you away and OFF THE BED 
you put up with it because you love him and you wouldn’t have it any other way 
chews on your hair??? in your sleep??? 
you wake up with half your hair covered in drool 
have you seen that one video of the girl’s rabbit biting a strand of her hair clean off. that’s him. he’s the rabbit. 
has a weak spot for sleepy kisses AUUUGGGHHH 
will never initiate them but will always melt into your hands if you squeeze his face and give him a big fat forehead kiss
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nsharks · 2 months
Text
bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part eighteen —other parts
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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.
Over the next four days, you find yourself panting in exhilaration each morning you spar with Ghost. Every slam of your hand into his ribs feels strangely better than the last. He goes harder on you. He'd been holding back, too, apparently— an unfortunate fact for your ribs. The pain seems to motivate you more, even if he is still beating the shit out of you.
Blue also motivates you. "Hit his nose again!"
Of course, that is the one part of him you purposely avoid.
The sun returns and sweat glides down your face. You knee his stomach. It's less vulnerable than swinging a kick, but still, he attempts to grab you by the waist. You quickly skirt away, the ground firmer beneath your feet, only for his hand to latch onto one of your braids, instead. A sting pulses through your scalp as he tugs hard, wrenching your ear close to his mouth.
"Quicker. Good. But don't get too cocky."
"I thought you wanted me to be more confident," you retort between ragged breaths. 
"Yes, but you can't forget who has the advantage here." There is the slightest bit of arrogance in his voice that makes your teeth grit.
"How could I ever forget?" Your head tilts and he releases the braid. Suddenly, the thought of smacking his nose again doesn’t seem so bad.
His eyebrow quirks. "Get some water, Twix. You need it."
The water caresses your tongue as you gulp it down without abandon. Unsurprisingly, Blue has disappeared somewhere in the treetops. The lack of more broken bones has waned her interest.
When Ghost lifts his mask to drink, you steal a glance at his nose, noticing that the swelling has gone down significantly. The fact he is still wearing that thing with a broken nose upholds your theory that he is at least slightly insane— as if the fact that he once shoved a gun into your fresh wound wasn’t already evidence of that.
Out of nowhere, he materializes beside you and places a hand on your stomach. Your sore muscles spasm under the surprise of his touch, his long fingers stretching from one side of your ribs to the other.
"Your strength starts here,” he explains in a hoarse murmur. “Keep it tight and you will deliver more damage."
You purse your lips to hide a wince and tap your nose. "Don’t I already deliver enough damage?"
"The nose is fragile. You may be landing more hits on me, but I still hardly feel a thing from them."
He allows you to pry his hand off, but the pressure of it seems to linger. Ghost studies you in a way that turns you translucent before demanding, "Lift your shirt, Twix."
Exhaling through your nose, you hesitate before peeling it up, revealing the collection of bruises you have earned from him. A myriad of pink, purple, and yellow skin flares up under his gaze. They have been giving you a hard time lacing your boots and tying your hair in the morning, but once you get moving, the ache becomes easier to ignore.
He has already seen your stomach and more, yet, your skin itches from the exposure. You shove the shirt back down.
His expression shifts. "You should have said something."
"They're just bruises. I'm not bleeding or anything."
"Still."
"Still what?"
He looks irritated. "You need to fucking communicate."
"I don't see why it matters. No coddling, right?"
"That doesn't mean I'm interested in breaking you."
You jerk your chin up to meet his stare. “You won't."
Blue swings down from a tree, plopping between the two of you and unintentionally—thankfully—putting an end to the subject. "I'm glad you two are finally getting along. It's good for the team." She nudges her dad. "But are you done with her yet? You can't just hog Twix all to yourself."
He clears his throat and the air between your bodies breathes wider. "If you're getting bored maybe we need to find something for you to practice."
"Nope!" she says quickly. "Not bored at all." 
He nods to a tree. "Go on. Practice your knives. You haven't done that in a while. Then, you can have her."
With a groan, she trudges away. 
The sparring continues.
Ghost's fists soften by a smidge.
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"He annoys the shit out of me sometimes."
Blue rips up a tuft of grass as you inch back to admire the swipe of color on her eyelids. It was her idea to use the bold-colored flowers for makeup— just like the models in her magazines. You did your best to mash the petals and mix them with some creekwater, but the result is kind of patchy and not nearly as smooth as the stuff you used to put on years ago. 
"Hold still. I'm doing your cheeks next."
The sun highlights the splash of freckles on her cheeks and you try to recall if Ghost had them. Her nose is nothing like his. A dainty button. Another trait she must've gotten from her mom. 
"Did you used to wear makeup?" she asks curiously, eyelashes fluttering down. 
"Sometimes. Especially when I went out."
"Went out where?"
Concentration nudges between your brows. "To clubs and stuff. It's where people would... dance."
Her lips spread as she cocks her head to the side in a manner that emulates her dad. You have to remind her again to stop moving. “Oh. Sorry. You danced?"
"I mean, not good dancing. Just dancing for fun,” you murmur, shrugging at the faint memories of being sandwiched between strangers, alcohol flowing through your veins rather than fear and adrenaline. Back then, mornings were spent nursing a hangover before class rather than earning bruises from an ex-lieutenant. 
Humor dances in her eyes when they reopen. "I don't think Ghost ever went to a club. I cannot imagine him dancing."
The images in your mind morph into something utterly laughable— him standing there like an immovable tank as people try to dance around him. "No, probably not."
"He never really tells me about his life before shit happened," she says thoughtfully. 
This piques your curiosity, but you keep your voice light. "No?"
"Well, he tells me the simple stuff. Mostly about his job. But never... never the small things, you know? Like I have no idea what he used to do for fun or what his life was like when he was a kid." She pauses a moment before adding, "He had a brother. That much I know."
You glance up. "Had?"
"He died before the virus. His mom and dad, too. But every time I ask how they died, he just says," she deepens her voice, "'Doesn't matter how, kid. Dead is dead.'"
"Oh, um, yeah, that sounds like something he would say." You tap your fingers under her chin. "I can put some on your lips, too."
Her eyes close again as she puckers her lips out. When you're done, she continues. "He also never talks about my mom." Her face twists. “I think he thinks talking about her will hurt my feelings."
For a few seconds, you struggle to find a response. The rare mention of her mom always makes your heart stutter, but this time, your broken, callused hand reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.
"It's okay to feel hurt, you know."
Blue shrugs and looks up at the cobalt sky. "I don't think I remember her enough to feel that hurt anymore. She feels so... far away. I remember small things, like the sound of her voice and her old apartment where I lived, but sometimes I wonder if I am making up those memories, you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I know what you mean." A terrible urge sits on your tongue to ask her more about her mom, about what exactly her relationship was like with Ghost, but Blue changes the subject before you can.
"Does the makeup look good?" A shy blush clouds her cheeks.
You stand up with a faint smile. "I think I did pretty damn good. Come on. I want you to go look in the mirror."
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Music.
It pounds so hard you feel it in your chest.
Neon walls enclose you as someone touches your backside, dancing against you. There is a man's voice in your ear that you think you recognize but it's hard to hear him through all the laughing and chatter. Your hair falls in loose curls down your back, free of braids, and you swipe it from your sweaty skin before excusing yourself to the bathroom.
You push through the people. The narrow hall is shrouded with different doors... so many doors. Where is the bathroom? It must be a Friday night on Oxford Street with how fucking crowded and stuffy this place is. Someone knocks into you roughly and your footsteps quicken. A sense of urgency drags you into the next door you come across, a large one made of grey oak.
The smell is horrendous but you feel relieved to see urinals and stalls. Immediately, you press into the granite counter and grip the edge as you catch your breath. The scratched, warped mirror houses a face covered in makeup. Youthful eyes. Flushed cheeks. How much have you had to drink? You need to go home. You will pee and then go home, you tell yourself. Over and over, you repeat this as you relieve yourself in one of the graffiti-doused stalls where condom and tampon wrappers crinkle beneath your heels.
When you're done, you try for the large door you came through, but it doesn't budge. The muffled music outside has faded. Panic sears your chest. You press your back against the door. The bathroom has changed. The stalls are gone. The walls feel like they are closing in, and the smell of piss turns into something even worse. You are alone. Where is the man you came with? You look down. Dead bodies. Strewn limbs. You're standing on a pile of them.
You start screaming. Banging on the door. Digging your fingers into the wood until the flesh rubs down to bone. 
It's not a room anymore, but a box. The fluorescent lights replaced by sheer darkness.
The edges of the door disappear.
A sickening silence replaces your screams.
And then—
"Twix."
You sit up, wild-eyed. You grip onto something—fabric—and a foul taste travels up your throat without warning. You heave several times, your entire body shuddering. 
When awareness settles in, you wipe your mouth and blink up. Ghost. He is... here. Hovering over you. His shirt is tightly bunched between your fingers and you have just vomited into it. The realization smacks you awake and you recoil sharply, staring at his moonlit mask with an expression that must be just short of mortified.
"I... Fuck. I am so sorry. I don't know why— I just..."
When you dare to look at the mess you've left on him, you nearly vomit again. Hands shaking, you rub at your clammy face and begin to ramble unthinkingly as his stare flickers between you and his soiled shirt.
"I've been trying so hard not to hold back like you said, but I think it is fucking me up a little and letting out some things— memories, I guess. I was pretty good about keeping it all in my box because I've been too tired to even think about it, but now I just..." You trail off, realizing your words must make little sense. 
"You've certainly let something out," he rasps.
Your hands drop against the sofa and you cringe. "I'll wash it for you. I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing."
You inhale. "I just fucking threw up on you."
"I'm aware."
Ghost straightens. He pinches the collar of his shirt and carefully hoists it over his head. Then, you're looking at his bare chest. Slivers of moonlight caress rigid brawn and mountainous scars that capture your gaze for a few heartbeats before you tear it away. 
"I'll, um, hang it outside and... wash it in the morning." 
Your legs are unnervingly steady when you stand up and take the shirt from him, carefully grabbing it by a dry spot. You are relieved to get away from him, draping it over the porch and swallowing gulps of fresh air before you go back inside, praying he's gone back to bed.
Luckily, he has. When the empty living room greets you, you sink to the sofa and palm your eyes. Then, you notice something left on the pillow. A cigarette. You pick it up and recall the few times you smoked whenever your friends offered one. The taste never sat well with you. 
You rummage for your lighter. The first inhale burns terribly, but you cough into the pillow and try again. It starts to calm you down after a few times, and only when you've gotten to the butt of it do you go back to sleep.
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"No wonder you're not getting stronger if you throw up like that every night."
Not even five minutes into training the next morning he brings it up. The rest of your sleep ended abruptly when he got you up at an unearthly time, probably to avoid having Blue as an audience. You are too winded to even scowl, your fists held tight in front of your face as you try to predict where he will aim next.
"I told you. That was the first night in a while." 
"Right. Something about a box, huh?"
"Can we just forget about it, please?"
"Hard to forget when my shirt still smells."
"I washed it the best I could."
The next dodge has your head flying down fast enough to undo one of your braids. Hair slips over your face and you huff, holding your hand up. "Hold on. Give me a minute."
As you undo the other one and opt for shoving your hair into a tight bun instead, he watches you strangely. The feel of his stare ignites a spark of irritation and you flash him a sideways glance. "Look, thank you for the cigarette and everything else you have ever done for me, but you can stop looking at me like that. Like you... pity me. I'm not going to break, I'm not going to ask you to kill me again. Everyone left in this world has nightmares and mine probably aren't the worst of them."
"I don't pity you," he says. "I am just trying to understand you."
"Why?" You finish the bun and drop your arms awkwardly at your sides. 
"It's important to understand your ally."
"Oh. Is that what we are?"
His eyes narrow. "Obviously. I wouldn't bother wasting my time with this every day if we weren't."
"Good to know you aren't doing it because you owe me."
"You know what I mean, Twix," he growls. 
"No, I don't." You throw your arms up. "I don't know what you mean and I don't know why you never killed me because you had every reason to, and I definitely don't understand you, so I guess we make terrible allies, Ghost."
"What is with you?" He cocks his head to the side, tone mild with curiosity. "So talkative all of the sudden."
"I have no problem talking when the other person isn't blatantly ignoring me."
His brows lift. "Fair enough."
A deep inhale flares your nostrils before you spread your stance. "I'm ready now."
Despite your claim of readiness, he quickly backs you into a defensive position that has you frustrated once again. You don't understand why, but your progress slips. You keep having to adjust your stance and all of your attempts to hit him fail. It's not long before he locks you against a tree with a tattooed forearm against your neck. 
"You aren't focused today," he accuses.
"Damn, you're observant," you breathe out. 
"Jesus fucking Christ. If I wanted to listen to someone mouthing off, I'd get Blue out here." He presses a bit harder and your throat twitches. "I'm not going to threaten you anymore, but clearly, you think straighter when you channel your anger, so whatever you were dreaming about last night— get it out of your head."
He's right. You breathe deep and try sorting through everything in your head, focusing on just the anger, but it's like fishing in murky water. When he releases you, more of the same happens. This time, you end up on your butt. Ghost glares down at you, circling like a vulture.
"You were doing good the past few days. What the hell is this?"
"I told you," you say through your teeth, brushing off the dirt from your jeans. "Letting out my anger means letting everything else in the box out and it is... confusing me. Making my head fuzzy, I guess."
His chest expands with a deep breath and his pointed stare turns meticulous. "Explain this box to me."
You hesitate for a moment. "It's just... where I put away all of the shit that would otherwise make me insane."
"And what is wrong with being a little insane, Twix? This world is insane. Might as well match it."
Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle for an answer and rub your temples. "I don't know. Being insane means losing myself completely. I mean, I have already changed so much in the past five years. Like I said, I was never meant to be this person."
"What person? A person who survives? A person who does what she has to?"
"A person who hurts others," you grit out. "A person who kills." 
"You've killed people, right?" he roughly asks and you nod. "Then you're a killer. You were always meant to be a killer. End of story." His words strike you, and you begin to shake your head defensively, but he continues before you can muster a reply. "The past five years haven't changed you, they have revealed who you are. Now—" he raises his fists, "—open the stupid box and turn everything you feel into anger. All of it. It is valuable fuel that will continue to keep you alive."
He swings.
A kaleidoscope of long-ignored memories flashes through your brain when he hits your sore stomach. Your family. Your friends. The life stolen from you. 
And then— you recover your footing and slam a boot into his knee. It loosens his stance just enough for you to throw yourself at him, effectively knocking him over. The ground welcomes your bodies again, but this time, you grip his shoulders and wind up on top, practically laying all of your weight on him. A few harsh breaths expel from your nose before you become fully aware of the position, the heat from his chest pressing into your breasts.
Quickly, you splay your hands flat against him and sit up straight, thighs spread over his narrow hips. Ghost could easily flip you over and pin you if he wanted. But instead, he crosses his arms behind his head. 
"Comfortable?" you ask him breathlessly, raising a brow.
"Quite. Though, if this were real, I suggest an elbow to the neck once you've got them down."
"So you admit it, then. I got you down."
"I allowed it."
"Sure." Your teeth snag on your lip and you lightly brush a finger over his masked nose, detecting a tick in the hinge of his jaw. "Then I will 'allow' you to keep this for now, but next time, I might do more than just break it."
His eyes widen imperceptibly before he quickly recovers. "Ah. So you are a person who hurts others, then. Someone was trying to tell me otherwise."
Your lips twitch at the corner on their own accord. "Shut the fuck up."
He simply stares at you for a pregnant pause before clearing his throat. "I did allow it, but that was good. You focused on the anger, didn't you?"
You nod. "Yeah, I did. Is that what you do all the time?" you ask curiously. "Just get angry and kill people?"
"Pretty much."
By the tone of his voice, a deep brass that reverberates through all the places your bodies touch, you are certain he's joking. Realizing that you are still on top of him, you push off his chest and swing a leg over, careful not to knee his face or let him see the deep flush that crawls over every inch of your skin. 
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dreamisols · 7 months
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permission ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
—your boyfriend has a cute but questionable habit —wc: 1,140 ; sleepy proofread —fluff, birthday fluff, rin is (squeezes him gently), some personal headcanons, and slight younger rinnie personality headcanons —rimi's ramble: happiest birthday to rin itoshi my boy uee i love him so much <3 also halfway into writing this i realized how soft i always make him but i'd gladly ramble about that too
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it's been well over a year into your relationship with rin itoshi.
and at this juncture, you could say that he's opened up to you about nearly everything. it took time, and you were as patient as ever in his eyes. he showed you everything about himself: the good, the bad, what he wants to be, and who he used to be. you can't be fooled by his grumpy persona and harsh body language, not when he finally bared his whole raw heart for you to hold and love. you two knew practically everything about each other.
which might be why you noticed rin slowly picking up some of his old habits from childhood.
for instance, he'd wake you up sometimes from your summer midday naps to offer going out and buying some popsicles from a convenience store nearby to battle the afternoon heat. despite your lazy protests, you'd drag your feet and go with him. and you'd watch as his teal eyes carefully scan the selection of icy treats inside the freezer despite knowing he'd always grab the blue twin pops.
another is when he'd take you to aquariums for dates more often. he once told you in passing that his brother used to love taking him to aquariums when they both couldn't sit and overlook the beach. and now because of how frequently you two have dates there, you two are practically regarded as regulars by the employees (they've joked to rin once about how he should propose to you in one of their scenic spots in the future; rin choked on the water he was drinking).
but the most prominent one is how rin would have this mindless habit of asking permission for the most no-brainer, useless, and quite frankly, idiotically endearing things.
you didn't question it at first. they were honestly all reasonable things to ask from someone who's in a relationship for the first time. albeit he was extremely awkward the first few times around, with him struggling to get the words out, you eventually got used to his small requests and questions.
a small "may i come in?" after every time he knocks on your door whenever he's over at your place.
a shy offer of "do you want me to brush your hair?" when he notices you dozing off a bit after a fresh evening shower.
even a "is it alright if i stay out late with the team?" text once every blue moon whenever he's dragged to their shenanigans (completely against his will).
rin may be struggling with socializing and understanding others' social cues well enough, but mama itoshi didn't raise a disrespectful boy.
you really haven't paid much attention to this habit of his until his birthday.
"i... i can do anything with you..?" rin questions, almost in disbelief. nodding, you parrot his words back, "yep! it's your special day today, so everything's your call!"
"anything...?" he asks again. and like earlier, you nod once more.
there was a beat of silence that accompanied the shocked look rin gave you.
"obviously, everything within reason..!" you cough nervously, afraid rin might've gotten the wrong idea or got too pressured by your supposed surprise, "we also don't have to go out or anything... like i said, whatever you-"
"can... we hold hands...?"
you stop your frantic rambling when your mind processed his words. your gaze is directly at him, but he's staring at the ground like he finally discovered something groundbreaking. the way he spoke sounded as if he was in utter disbelief. it was like if his crush told him that they liked him back, or like he was told that he won the grand prize of something big.
which is confusing.
"y-yes we can?" you quirk one of your brows with a rather unsure smile, "we often hold our hands together, rinnie. we even interlock fingers."
your boyfriend still has that dumb surprised look casted on the wooden floor, "oh.. yeah..."
you were about to question the tone of his voice when he perks up so suddenly and goes on a tangent,
"can we wear matching scarfs when we go out, then? it's practical for the temperature. can we use the one you bought us... that one with the sanrio dog you said reminded you of me because of soccer— pochacco?"
he sits upright and looks up at you with eyes filled with so much anticipation that you can't bear to look away, "we can wear that, right?"
you nod again, "yes rinnie, we can wear that out. like you said, it's cold anyways-"
your excited boyfriend cuts you off once more, like an overly excited child, "if it's cold, can we cuddle? oh, maybe we can also get a mini cake from the bakery nearby? or better yet a parfait— can we share? i don't like overly sweet food..." he gasps softly, like he's struck with the most genius idea, and looks up at you once more for permission.
"can i kiss you..? but.. like, a lot-"
you finally squish his cheeks to stop his mouth from blabbering more and more words that make you both want to squeal at his cuteness and shake him like a dog does with a chew toy because of how annoyingly stupidly adorable he is.
"rin itoshi." the man sits straight at the use of his full name. "i love you with all my heart but oh my god if you ask permission from me for yet another stupid thing i might kiss you and or muffle you with the couch pillow." as if for good measure that your point gets across, you flick rin's forehead softly.
"you know that you're free to spoil yourself, match anything with me, and indulge in any form of affection you're comfortable with." you leave a soft kiss on his cheek, which elicits a gasp from your boyfriend.
"so no more of these useless questions, okay?"
rin nods three times, still looking at you with all the love in the world. your black cat of a boyfriend has magically morphed into this puppy of a man, you can practically envision his imaginary tail wagging from excitement. but you don't mind this side of rin—the side of his that allows his inner emotions, his inner youth run free. if anything, it's a testament to how much he's grown comfortable with you.
your lips form a small smile, your eyes reflect all your love back at him.
just as you were about to change the topic, you catch his teal eyes drift to your lips, back up to your eyes, then down to the floor.
three seconds pass.
"can we-" "you just want the kiss on the lips, don't you?"
if it results in more opportunities for kisses, then yes, he doesn't mind asking all these stupid nonsensical questions.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work!
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mamashenanigans · 4 months
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When my head isn’t filled with “keephishandkeephishandkeephishand” on a loop, I actually think about more stuff from 407.
Someone on X pointed this out, but how wittle baby boy Yoichi is shown here…
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Makes it seem like the people that AFO just killed had maybe beat him up. Of course, AFO is taking their metapowers away too, but it’s an interesting catch. And, yes, Yoichi is wearing fitted clothes while AFO walks around with something just wrapped around him.
You know how Yoichi still believed there was good in his brother because of the kindness of his “hand”?
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Well, in case you missed it…
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They were born apart with their hands already reaching out to each other. They are on their backs right now, so those are the same hands that are holding/being held.
This means…
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AFO grabbed Yoichi and dragged him with him. What you’re seeing in that top panel is the water starting to overflow the river and rush past. AFO pulled Yoichi out of the water and on to their mother. He is also using the spike quirk for teeth and on his hand to grab onto their mother and pull them up. The bottom left panel is him biting into her dress as he pulls them out of the danger of the water. Yes, AFO saved Yoichi when they were fucking newborns. THIS is what Yoichi has a faint memory of. That was the kindness.
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I know some people have been wondering if they’re fraternal or identical. This seems to suggest that they are in fact sharing the same umbilical cord. It’s rare for fraternal twins to have this. It’s crazy to think that Yoichi may have looked just like AFO if he had the same amount of nutrients. But I digress…
A very notable thing about AFO’s eyes: they are huge and creepy in feral/survivor mode. We’ve seen his eyes get like this as AFOTomura and when he goes into rage mode against All Might and now Bakugo.
Here, he is quite literally just walking down the street past the anti-meta people and presumably just heard them talk about killing metas. Once they take notice of him, he turns his head towards them and his eyes are huge like a startled animal.
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He then proceeds to kill them and still has that feral look.
But now let me get to something pretty important…
We don’t see AFO actually smile until this panel
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Once he has a dream of everyone living for his sake, like Yoichi, he is finally smiling. And continues to do so after this point.
Something really bothering me is that they must have named themselves including their surname. Shigaraki means “death tree” which fits in nicely as they were born “from death”. However, where did Yoichi get his name? AFO must have named him and Yoichi can mean “first gift”. So he named him that because Yoichi was QUITE LITERALLY the first thing AFO ever had. As for AFO…I don’t know if he would take the time to name himself. Yoichi only calls him big brother so he may have told Yoichi to just keep calling him that then decided to name himself after the Quirk he also named himself: All for One. Dude is really committed to the bit.
There’s one more thing I haven’t seen anyone touch on yet…
The hatred.
As you probably recall, Hawks has a talk with Best Jeanist over AFO’s lack of emotions and lack of hate. Why he has to use Tomura to get OFA.
406 explained why that is perfectly.
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When he feels hatred, he is forced to remember WHEN HE WAS TOLD HE KILLED HIS BROTHER HOLY SHIT. It would also be possibly the first and only time he ever cried. Felt real grief. So, he never “feels” REAL hatred because that would mean having to confront this memory.
It’s fucking genius.
You’’re welcome.
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glossysoap · 2 months
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dirty talk ; captain mactavish | soap it up!
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summary: snippets of what captain mactavish would say in bed.
this is also my first contribution towards @glitterypirateduck ‘soap it up’ challenge! thank you for encouraging entries even after the deadline lol, it’s much appreciated. and as always, if anyone is interested in a more fleshed out version of any of these headcanons, i’m open to writing a more detailed fic about it.
prompts used:
“I’ll take care of you.”
“If you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?”
“I’m going to marry you.”
warnings/tags: 18+, fem reader/afab, oral (f), fingering, squirting, mating press. this isn’t as rough as i would usually like to make it but i’ll make a rougher version soon :) also i whipped this up in like 2 hours in the middle of the night while i was fighting sleep so be gentle <3
notes: bolded sentences = lines he would say in bed.
word count: 1-1.5k
🏷️: @divine--serenity @violet-phantoms @jumbojazzcats93 @ghastlybirdie @loveyhoneydovey @vgilantee @blissful-bunny @damnirina @wrathofcats @claymorexpunisher @krakenbabe @luvecarson @mandalover2023 @lordlydragon @undeadsthings @kiroshang @ivymarquis @stargirlrchive @itzzjxlyn @msdevil333 (if your name is struck out, tumblr won’t let me tag you. pls check your settings. also, if you want to be added to my smut tag list, let me know. if you want to be added to my dark fic tag list, let me know. if you want to be added to my everything tag list, let me know. pls be specific on what list you wish to be added to. if you want to be removed from any list, pls let me know, there’s never any hard feelings.)
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“Love this pretty fuckin’ pussy so much.” He murmurs softly into your skin, his stubble scratching against the warmth of your inner thigh as his strong arms work on holding your legs apart for him. Icy blue eyes studying your cunt with all of the focus ingrained in a captain — wearing a wolfish grin as he commits every detail to memory. As if it were the first time he ever saw it.
“Love you so much.” Then his eyes would flicker up to your face to gauge your reaction as he uses one thick finger to trace your slick folds. He takes his time gathering your juices on his fingers and spreading your lips apart. His lips quirk into a grin as he sees you bite your lip and your brows furrow. Before you could return his affections, his finger had begun dipping inside your folds.
But just dipping. Not giving you enough stimulation to get off but just enough to make your heart race. Enough to make you frustrated.
“Fuck, John! Please! Just touch me!” You beg, voice cracking as you look down at where he lay between your legs.
“I am touchin’ ye.” He looks up at you, feigning confusion as his finger continues to tease your slit so cruelly. “What do ye’ mean?”
“Mm, you know what I mean.” You try to stifle a moan as he traces little figure eights right at your entrance, only dipping just a fraction further inside. Keyword: try.
“If you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?” He asks, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he grins.
He loved your pathetic little whimpers and whines when you were so desperate for his tongue or his cock. But what he loved even more was feeling how drenched you were for him. He loved the unabashed moans that fell from your lips as you writhe in pleasure.
So he stopped teasing.
“So fuckin’ wet for me. Just soaking my fingers, lass.” He smiles as he pushes a thick finger in all the way to the knuckle, slipping in so easily from how slick you were. Your breath hitches as he dips his head down, letting his breath fan against your cunt. Just as he’s slipping in a second finger, his mouth is on your pussy. Lapping at your folds in wide and messy stripes, licking up all of your juices and moaning against your sensitive skin.
“Oh my God!” You cry out, hand moving to grab a fistful of his mohawk in an attempt to find purchase.
“Mmm, fuck! You taste so fucking good. Could do this all day.” He moans into your cunt, sending vibrations to your core. He’s so loud about it, dipping his tongue inside you and wrapping his lips around your swollen clit and sucking. All the while, his two fingers were pumping in and out beneath his tongue, preparing you for the stretch of his cock. His two fingers alternated between pumping at a cruel pace and scissoring inside your warmth, making you cry out. With his mouth making a mess of your pussy and his fingers moving in tandem, wet squelching sounds had started mixing with your moans.
“Please, please, please, John!” You didn’t even know what you were begging for. He was already touching you. But you just couldn’t help it. You had so much tension and stimulation built up, you needed to do something.
“Aw,” he can’t help but coo mockingly, “Dinnae worry, mo ghraidh.” My love.
“I’ll always take care o’ ye.” He grins against your throbbing cunt, before coming up from between your legs and switching your position in five seconds flat. He hikes your legs above his shoulders, knees pressed against your chest to leave you perfectly spread open for him.
With that same wolfish grin, he rubbed the head of his cock along your wet folds. He loved how soaked you were already, how much your juices were coating his cock. He heard your little gasp at the teasing and he saw your hips desperately buck up into the air. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you were so needy to be filled and fucked.
He taps the head of his cock against your swollen clit a few times, before pressing it against your entrance.
“Squeezin’ me so tight, love. Can barely move.” He chuckles in your ear when he first pushes in, easing his cock inside your cunt inch by inch. You gasp at his girth as he eases inside — his cock is always an adjustment for you, especially after a dry spell. He gives a small hiss from how tight you were, then after a minute, he groans because of how slippery and warm you were around his cock. Always taking him so well.
“That’s it, that’s it…” He croons into your ear as you clench around his cock, your juices mixing with his as he pumps in and out. You could feel his stubble scratching against your skin as he spoke, sending an additional chill down your spine as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.
He angles his hips a bit different so he can hit you even deeper. When he hears you sharply gasp, he laughs.
“Yeah, did I find that spot? Hmm?” He croons in your ear, not waiting for a response before his hips pick up the pace. He keeps hitting that sensitive spot in your cunt with thrust, groaning in your ear when he feels you squeeze him so good.
“Gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.” He all but growls in your ear as he feels himself grow closer to his own release. He feels himself throbbing inside you, that knot inside his stomach growing tighter and tighter. All he wanted to do was fold your legs up to your chest and pump you full of his cum. He wanted to hear you whine and moan from being so full, all while having his cum trickle down from your soaked cunt.
“Good fuckin’ girl. I swear, one day I’m gonna marry ye’.” He murmurs in your ear, voice all gruff and husky as you gush all over his cock. Your cunt pulses and throbs, squeezing around him as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you absolutely breathless. His hips never faltering as he ruts into you, enjoying every cry and moan that falls from your lips. His breath fanning against your face as his forehead presses onto yours, blue eyes drinking in every twist of ecstasy in your expression.
©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.
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