#Fatty Bats | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ssweetleaf · 10 months

Text

rosemary.

pairing— eddie munson x fem!reader

w/c— 2.2k

♡ summary— you and eddie have just got married, and seeing you in your pretty dress, all pure and innocent, he can’t quite wait until after the after party to get his hands on you.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, corruption kink, semi public sex, mentions of eddie getting a boner in a church lol, unprotected p in v, (please wear protection!!) hand over mouth muffling, slight breeding kink, shitty ending!!!!!!

a/n— based off this lovely ask by @televisionboy pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!! <3

˖ ࣪⭑

The ceremony was over, rings slid over knuckles and vows spoken, sealing it all with what was supposed to be a pretty kiss, turned a little crude— with Eddie dipping you back, fingertips tracing along your spine whilst his lips worked against yours, all sloppy and full of tongue and spit.

But it was your day. Your’s and Eddie’s— Mr and Mrs Munson, it was kind of odd once you said it out loud, barely twenty-three and already hitched, but you were in love and still extremely touchy. That much was evident once his gaze had flitted to you when walking down the isle— satin dress all tight and short, neckline low enough so the weight of your tits filled out the space, jiggling with each coordinated step and a pretty veil surrounding your shoulders, littered with sparkles and rhinestones, glistening in the light that filtered through the stained glass.

Shit. He was already hard by the time you had stood beside him, joining hands at the altar and he had to subtly adjust the crotch of his slacks— in a mere second the holy space had turned quite hellish, though how could anyone blame him when you looked like that. So pretty.

His wife.

So, the reception began— a free bar and sabbath crackling through the shitty speakers, and it didn’t take long for your guests to become— with lack of a better word— wasted.

And they wouldn’t notice the two of you gone for a little while…right?

˖ ࣪⭑

“Shit, sweetheart, been hard since we said our vows—” he groaned, palms heavy on your hips and kneading at the fatty parts, letting them slip, down, down and squeezing at the soft globes of your ass— prominent from underneath the tight satin. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

You beamed up at him, lazy smile and hooded eyes, a little inebriated by too much champagne and his kisses— hands smushed against his cheeks and continuously pecking, one, two, three, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth and lathering your tongue against it.

“Can’t believe you had a boner in front of the vicar, Ed.” You stifled a laugh, cheeks warming and you heard his chest rumble, pushing you further against the bathroom counter and urging you to jump up, helping you slide your ass against the cool marble, back pressing snug against the mirror while you started for the crimson silk of his tie.

You marvelled at him, the same as you had many times that night, cooing and batting your lids at how handsome he looked, all dressed up.

“So pretty, Eds—” your lips curved, tugging at the knot between his collar and easing it from his neck, haphazardly pushing the buttons through the holes while he sucked on the delicate skin of your neck, heavy with your perfume and slick with your sweat, he inhaled it deeply. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

Eddie tugged at your hair, tilting your chin and roaming at the new amount of skin revealed— the calluses on his palms were rough on your chest while they smoothed over the swell of your tits, carefully pushing away the flimsy straps that held your dress up and pulling the cups down, the weight of your tits heavy and spilling free, nipples hardening even with the stuffy atmosphere and he felt like drooling at the sight.

“My wife.” He spoke, simple and syrupy— eyes all gooey and soft, leaning forward to stop your ministrations to nuzzle the curve of his nose against yours. Sweet and not a care in the world in the moment, as if you weren’t having a quickie in the women’s restroom clad in your wedding attire. “when we get to the hotel room, I’m totally gonna love on you properly— candles and all that shit.”

But for now, he thought, he was gonna ruin you— taint the innocence of your dress and pretty veil, leave you impure and drooling, begging to serve like a good wife does.

His cock was swelling uncomfortably, pressing tight against his slacks, almost busting the zipper and he took a hold of your throat, squeezing at the sides, feeling the pre-cum start to drip once that look he knew so well dripped along your features then settled— dumbified and longing, honeyed irises turning glassy, lips all pouty and puffy.

All for him to corrupt. His pretty little bride.

“There she is.” Eddie cooed, pushing the skirt of your dress upwards, grabbing a fistful and tucking it underneath your bra— keeping it there so there wasn’t any interruptions between him and your pretty pussy.

The fabric was crinkling, and if you weren’t so inebriated from his existence, you would’ve berated him for it.

But you were in far too deep.

“You been thinkin’ about this too, haven’t you, sweetheart?” He mocked, tugging at the silk that covered your cunt, snapping the elastic crudely against your tummy, fingers dipping in, only for them to dip back out again. “Saw you watchin’ me, baby— looked like a little bitch in heat, clenchin’ your thighs and everything.”

Your cheeks flushed, heat travelling down your neck and right to your core, leaving your clit pulsing and restless, eager for EddieEddieEddie.

You nodded, big pout much akin to your big eyes, staring up at him and fiddling with his open shirt.

“Couldn’t help it, Eds,” you whined, head spinning from the constant pressing underneath the elastic. “You’re gonna be mine forever— gets me so worked up.”

He grinned, finally pulling your panties down your thighs and shoving them into his back pocket.

“My husband.” You hummed, cunt clenching at the mere sound on your tongue. Fuck, you loved the way it sounded.

“Aw shucks, honey, you really are tryna make me blush, hm?”

And he was, cherry blush smeared along his cheeks and down his neck, you could see it littering his collar bones and flickering down the span of his chest— black button up open and flowing at his sides.

Eddie took his first look at your pretty pussy, different now you were married, much more beautiful and it made his mouth water— so puffy and glistening with your slick, so wet you were dripping onto the counter beneath you, and he marvelled at the way you clenched around nothing.

“Shit, sweetheart, I need to be inside you,” he rushed out, pulling at his slacks and you helped him with his briefs, wet spot apparent and seam almost splitting at how tight they had become. “Promise I’ll eat this pussy later— treat you real nicely, like a little princess, hm?”

His cock was out, thick and long, looming over your pussy while he held it there, before smacking the head against your clit.

“That okay, baby? Gonna let me use you for a bit before I’m all sweet on you?”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, whining at his choice of words and the way his mushroomed tip nudged at your clit, pre-cum spreading along your slit and folds and making you even stickier than before.

“Yeah— need it s’bad.” You gurgled, tongue practically lolling out the side of your mouth and fingers clutching at his forearms, leaving crescent moons in their wake. “Want you to use me, Ed— use your wife.”

He groaned at your filthy mouth, though it wasn’t anywhere near as filthy as his and held the base of his cock, easing the head to your entrance and slipping slowly inside.

Your slick made it easy, slipping right in with barely any resistance, though the squeeze of your walls when you clenched around him had his knees starting to buckle.

“F-fuck, sweet girl—” he whined, bottoming out to the hilt, balls heavy against your ass and cock so full inside you, stretching you out and splitting you in two. “Look like a fuckin’ angel.”

You did, practically glowing, or maybe that was the sweat… or the champagne, though whatever it was, you looked beautiful— pure and sweet, pouting up and him, almost begging to be corrupted and dirtied. The thought made you pulse, made him twitch.

You were already babbling expletives, dirty words dripping from your tongue like honey, all while your lids started to grow heavier and heavier.

“Supposed to be my good little wife, honey—” he managed, groan rumbling in his chest and palms pawing at your tits. “You sure have got a filthy mouth.”

He had the audacity to smirk, balls deep inside, trying not to thrust too hard otherwise he’d cum too soon— though he still thought it was fitting to smirk.

You clenched around him. Hard. Wanting so badly to give him a taste of his own medicine and give him a little cocky smirk back, though with the way he pounded and the way his pretty tip nudged at your g-spot, you weren’t quite sure you could.

“Oh, pretty baby’s all fucked out.” He cooed with faux concern, mocking the pout that stayed put on you lips and he quickly leaned down to press a kiss to them. “Wanna say I’ll go easy on you, sweetheart, but you know I couldn’t do that.”

One quick peck, another, and another— one, two, three, before he slipped his tongue inside, swiping it along your molars and flicking it against your own appendage, heavy with spit, and laced with his throaty moans, going nicely with your pretty whines.

Eddie couldn’t deny the way your noises affected him, hardening him further if that was even possible and leaving his thrusts to get harder— however the two of you had to be somewhat quiet, and though the thought of getting walked in on at any moment was quite electrifying, you didn’t really want any of your family getting an eyeful of the two of you fucking like little bunnies in season.

He’d have to find a way to shut you up one way or another.

So, he pressed his palm heavily over your mouth, muffling your cries to a dull vibration against the lines of his hand— his new ring glistening in the light, showing the both of you how real it was that the two of you were married. In sickness and in health.

“Should’ve put my cock down your throat,” he sighed, trying to suppress his own crude noises with a bite to his bottom lip. “Would’a made you all quiet then, wouldn’t it, dirty girl.”

You were whining still, fluttering your lids when your moans were stifled, finding purchase in grabbing at his chest and clawing at his pecs, easing a groan in return, which you would’ve shushed if it wasn’t for your occupied mouth.

His other hand smoothed over your thigh, kneading at the thickness before travelling upwards, grabbing a handful of tit and squeezing it, thumb and forefinger pinching at your nipple and watching it grow impossibly harder at the cruel action.

Your eyes started to roll back, your nails began to claw deeper.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he cooed, “jus’ wanna let everyone know how good you’re feeling, don’t you?”

You nodded as best you could in the hazy state you were in, thick with fog and eyes lined with tears, now streaming down your cheeks, and you were certain your pretty makeup had turned into a muddy mess— mascara streaks and all that.

“Yeah, that’s right, but you gotta be quiet, baby— gotta be good and make me proud.”

You were close, and he could feel it— hugely familiar with the way your orgasm grew, the way you clenched much harder than normal, pussy pulsing and clit thumping along with your heart, creaming his cock completely and you hadn’t even slipped over the edge yet.

He was close too, stuttering breaths and shortened thrusts, a little sloppy, though still just as delicious, you could feel him twitch inside you, hot and heavy, so ready to burst.

“You ready to cum, baby? Can feel you clenchin’ real hard.” His fringe stuck to his forehead, slick with sweat and you brought a hand up to push it out of the way, a few wisps getting caught in his vision. “Such a dirty girl— does bathroom sex really do it for you?”

Bastard.

“Shit— gonna cum too—” he squeezed his eyes closed, bracing his free hand on the counter and clutching at the edge with tightened fingers. “you ready for my cum, honey? Ready to have my babies? We’ve waited this long, sweet girl, might as well start now.”

You whined and cried out, wanting so badly to scream, though his palm kept that from you.

“Yeah, I know you want it.” He cooed, “make me a real daddy.”

It was in unison when you came— thick ropes of cum painting your inner walls, filling you up and spreading warmth throughout, while you pulsed and spasmed, creaming his cock and dripping all over the bathroom tiles, drool slipping from your mouth and along his hand, escaping the confines and sliding down your neck and pooling at your heaving chest.

So messy.

You felt sated— both of you did, glowing and completely spent, cuddling up to each other as close as you could even in the awkward position.

Until there was a knock.

“Excuse me, is there anyone in there?”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson hc #eddie munson fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things blurb

2K notes · View notes

trashmouth-richie · 5 months

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * eddie x female reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * summary: what happens, when eddie makes plans without you?

⋆·˚ ༘ * tw: 18+ only, unprotected p in v! toxic relationship behavior, choking, reader is kind of crazy but it’s explained at the end, breaking shit, mean!reader, drinking, weed, knife use, pet names, nicknames.

⋆·˚ ༘ * 1.7k words, not proof read, pretend it is.

Saturdays were usually your nights together. Spending the night at his trailer because it was guaranteed that Wayne would be gone.

But tonight Eddie said he had “plans with the boys”.

So imagine your surprise when Robin called you up and asked why you weren’t at Steve’s party, but Eddie was?

The ten minute drive felt like sixty seconds of pure rage filled hell. You only saw red, steam shot from your ears like a cartoon.

And when you pulled up to Steve’s enormous house, Robin was right, because Eddie’s van was sitting out front.

Your blood boiled and your cheeks felt like fire. Heart hammering in your chest, you slammed the gear shift into park before the car could even come to a full stop.

You didn’t care that he was here with his friends, what you cared about was the normal posse of skanky girls who were at Steve’s parties, one strawberry blonde in particular that rubbed you every way of wrong. Chrissy.

She was always hanging on Eddie any chance she got, batting her eyelashes, acting dumb to get his help in math. You’re so smart she’d whisper to him— even though the straight F’s on his paper definitely didn’t stand for Fantastic.

Jason had dumped her and rumor had it she was looking to get back at him the biggest way she knew how, and that was t getting with the freak.

Your freak.

The sharp black points on your heeled boots clicked along the sidewalk as you stalked towards the house whistling an angelic sort of tune, swinging the wooden bat by your side.

Jonathan was outside the lavish home, smoking a fatty and leaning against the raised brick garden bed. Upon first glance he waved, all drunken smiles and lazy greetings.

It wasn’t until he saw what was in your hand that he finally pieces it together, and you asked him sweetly to kindly get Eddie because you had a message for him.

The driver's side window broke with little to no effort, a few swings and it shattered into a pretty spider web of splintered glass, covering Eddie’s driver seat.

The whistled tune never stopped from your puckered lips. Not when you flicked open the pocket knife and punctured the rubber tires, or when you carved a long jagged scratch into the paint down the aluminum body.

It wasn’t until you were standing on the hood of the van, crashing the bat into the windshield did you hear the front door to Steve’s swing open, music fading through the night with each body shoving their way through the door, gasping at your surprise gift for your boyfriend.

Someone, Jeff, you think— hollers for Eddie and you plant your ass on the hood, leaving a dent for sure by the way you plopped down like it was a trampoline. With legs crossed and twisting the bat between your palms, you wait patiently for the man of the hour to finally arrive, a smile on your black painted lips.

By now there’s a decent sized crowd, all gaping mouths and wide eyes, some laughing but mostly struck with fear out of the freaks girl.

He walks down the concrete steps, his heavy boots thudding against the hard ground. You can see the muscles in his jaw tense from where you are sitting, his knuckles tighten into a fist and his shoulders broaden and angle back, like he's trying like hell, not to yell out right by the look of the destruction you caused to his van.

“Hi baby,” you greet, sugary sweet like you just brought him balloons on his birthday, “having a fun night?”

Eddie is seething, nostrils flared as he tries to even his breathing, “what did you do Lil?”

“What?” You ask, turning your body to look at the glass splintered on the windshield and smashed on the ground, “oh, you mean all this? It’s pretty right?”

Eddie drags his tongue across the front of teeth, sucking in a breath, “you’re kidding right?”

Unhooking your crossed leg you slam your heel into one of his headlights, the satisfying crunch of the plastic pieces littering to the ground, you smile pretty up at him, but he doesn’t bat an eye, “oh Eddie,” you tsk, “I don’t like jokes… or being,” the tip of the bat hits the other headlight with a crunch, “… lied to.”

“Fucking Christ, what are you even talking about?” Eddie spits as he looks to Jeff then to Gareth.

“Really? Then why did Robin call to say you were here with that bimbo Chrissy?”

The crowd ooo’s as Eddie stomps towards you, his face struck with anger, the browns of his eyes completely black as he glared down at you, his necklace still swaying as he leans forward into your space, only malice in his voice.

“Time to go,” he grunts, grabbing the bat from your hand and tossing it to the ground, “now.”

“Nah,” you say, looking past him and waving at Steve, he returns the wave with a confused look at a silent gasp at the look of Eddie’s van, “I’m just getting started.”

Steve tries to push everyone inside shows over! Let’s go! But nobody budges, waiting for the train wreck, unable to look away.

Eddie pulls you from the van by your feet, your bare ass skimming the hood as your skirt lifts up, sure to leave a burn, you land on your feet, waltzing over to aforementioned blonde and taking her drink from her, downing the horrific liquid in a gulp. She’s too stunned to speak as you twist back around to catch a glimpse of Eddie, shooting him a wink.

The knife tucked into the cute holder on your thigh comes out with a flick. Flashing the steel blade to Eddie, you wink before whipping back around to Chrissy just in time to catch her ponytail between your fingers. The knife cuts through her hair like a shear, close to her scalp beneath the emerald ponytail, her golden locks fisted limply in your hand.

The scream she lets out is blood curdling and ugly, but you don’t mistake the laugh coming from Robin or Steve as Chrissy runs inside, her cheer squad hurrying behind to help their friend.

“Wait! You forgot this!” You say shaking the blond strands towards the door, “I’m sure some glue or tape will hel—”

You're caught off guard as Eddie’s hand wraps around your wrist and starts dragging you away from the party back to his van. He wiggles the knife from your fingers and closes it on his hip, shoving it into his jacket.

The smile never left your lips, not even when your shoulder blades rest against the side of the van as Eddie crowds you in.

“Jesus Christ you’re fucking crazy, y’know that?” his words are mean but there’s a hint of something else on his lips, a smirk.

Your fingers move to his belt buckle, threading it through itself as you look up at him through your lashes, “you love it.”

His eyes roll tk the back of his head, and he takes a deep breath, animalistic instinct kicking in as you suck his thumb into your mouth.

“Fuck.”

Your thighs are wrapped around his waist in two seconds flat. He grunts as his thick fingers glide through your wet heat, finally noticing you weren’t wearing any panties he groans guttural and low.

His hand wraps around your throat and he smiles as you gasp for a little breath, eyes rolling into your skull as he cants his hips forward and his thick head pushes through your walls, filling you full.

Your lips attach to his neck, licking and biting hard enough that your teeth marks will bruise a perfect dental record into his skin. A nice match for the red lips tattooed on the left of his neck, an identical mark to yours.

“Shit,” he groans slamming into you harder and harder, shaking the van on its flat tires, broken glass hitting the ground like hail. “Always so fucking tight for me baby, fuck I love your pussy.”

You’re mewling into him, inhaling his words as he bites your lip, licking the blood from them and running it over his teeth.

The front door opens and shuts but neither of you stop, not even when the sobs from Chrissy get closer as her friends bell her into their car, parked right behind Eddie’s van.

Eddie’s face is buried into your neck and you catch Chrissy’s blue teared stare, horror on her face as you and Eddie both moan. “Mm fuck,” you say to her, eyes boring into hers, “like what you see, Christopher?”

The screaming huff from her mouth is heard around Hawkins as she slams the door to Heather's car, tires screeching as they tear out of Steve’s driveway.

Eddie chuckles into your skin and shakes his head. A smile on his face as he kisses you hard, pumping into you harder and before long you're both coming and moaning into the night, completely lost in your own world.

Later that night in Eddie’s bed, you're tangled naked and fresh from a shower beneath soft cotton sheets. His hands lazily work up and down your back, your arm propped up beneath your chin on his chest, “so, I did good, right?”

Eddie laughs and blows a ring of smoke into the air, “you were perfect my little vixen, I could barely contain myself when you were sitting on the hood like that, looked so fucking sexy, wanted to fuck you right there.”

You both laugh at the theatrics of the night, and you remember something that’s missing, “gonna need my knife back by the way, feels weird without it.”

Eddie points to his jacket crumbled on the floor next to a mountain of discarded clothing and leather boots, “it’s in my pocket, just keeping it safe.”

You roll your eyes with a tease and slither from the sheets, bare skinned beneath the yellow warm lamp, the jacket feels cool in your hands, silk pockets gentle on your fingers as your grab your knife and pull it out.

Examining it in your fingers it truly was the perfect gift from the man you adored, etched into the handle, a script he cut himself, “to my Lilith.”

liked this? consider a reblog like and comment! thanks for reading

another story in the same lilith au - here & here

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader

771 notes · View notes

m-ayo-o · 7 months

Text

eating competition

18+ // explicit oral // Toji n Toru being competitive wc 900 selfshiptember; 23 i'm obsessed with them being friends ok. ok [ch. 236 didn't happen. he's here. he's alive. and well]

Your two closest friends, Toji and Satoru, are always in ferocious competition with one another. It’s not all about money, status and power– sometimes they sink lower, and today they’ve reached new depths after stuffing their faces with piles of greasy, fatty foods. They look up at you asking, “Who won?” with groans and sore tummies.

You look at their comatose bodies, prodding and teasing, giggling as they grunt and try to push you off. You just tell them to reevaluate their lives and step out of your apartment to go shopping.

☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

You re-enter a couple of hours later to find your apartment clean and Satoru walking around topless, greeting you and pulling you to your room, explaining that they’re having a different competition now.

He gives you a grin and drags you inside, where you see Toji lying back on your bed in his boxers.

You huff, fed up with the pair’s ridiculous behaviour, “Is everything a competition for you two??”

“Honestly, you think we’re that childish?” Satoru turns to you with a chuckle, his eye contact making you shiver.

He pushes you onto the bed and crawls over you, reaching for your skirt and pushing it away, “S-S’toru what– what are you doing?”

The partial nudity doesn’t surprise you anymore. But Satoru’s hands on you, tugging at your clothes is new.

He gives you a little pout as you edge up the bed, incidentally getting closer to Toji, who turns to you.

He takes your hand in his and places kisses over your knuckles, explaining, “We’re gonna have a different kind of eating competition now, doll”

You’re left confused, looking down at Satoru who gives you a pleading expression.

“Will you let us?”

You swallow hard, finally realising what they’re asking.

“Ah… but you guys– I, I don’t know– it, it’s not right, you’re my friends”

“We can treat you so good, though, angel,” Satoru coos, kissing your legs, “‘n we need to find out who’s better.”

He bats those pretty lashes and has you nodding in no time, his long fingers pulling away your clothes.

☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

And soon enough, his lips have found your clit, his tongue sliding through your wet folds as he starts on his mission to prove just how good he can make you feel.

Satoru has fun with you, smiling, pleased that you’ve already soaked his face.

“That’s it, angel,” he hums, “dripping so pretty f’ me,” he kisses and licks you over and over, “was so easy, hm, getting you so wet, so quick– and just look, look at your cream all over my tongue.”

He can’t help but pull himself away, sticking out his tongue to show you while shoving his fingers inside you instead, his thumb expertly swirling around your little bud.

“You wanna taste?” He moves over your body, eyes half lidded, his long fingers getting so deep while his wet tongue connects with yours.

“Dirty girl,” he comments, pulling away and biting your lip, enjoying how you're moaning while tasting yourself.

His fingers work magic inside you while his mouth finds your little clit again, licking and teasing, clearly enjoying every second while you get all fidgety and needy in his strong hands.

He hums with pride when you reach your first orgasm so quickly, riding his fingers while your hips spasm and buck.

Pausing to admire your afterglow for a moment, he licks up your wetness and switches places with Toji.

☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

You realise too late that it may have been wise to let Toji go first, as he’s got you screaming and crying while he sucks hard on your sensitive bud.

He torments you, swirling his tongue round and round, his fingers pressing at your entrance.

Feeling you getting close already, he groans and pulls away, watching you squirm as he delivers a long strand of spit to your already soaked hole. He smears it around with his thumb, his eyes all hazy and transfixed on your body.

Enjoying how your hips are pushing up to his hand, he lines up his fingertips with your hole. “Go on then,” his eyes flick up and down “use my fingers if you want.”

And he watches you shakily move your hips up, taking his thick middle and ring fingers. You let off a moan and he chuckles, “Look what I've got her doing, Toru, must be better with me, hm?”

You just feel him sliding through you, your hips going up and down with increasing pace.

“You would've cum again by now if it were me, honey. Don’t listen to him,” Satoru comments, eyeing the way you’re humping Toji’s hand so eagerly.

He teases you with a few lazy pumps, then pulls his fingers out and attaches his lips to your body again, both big hands finding your ass and squeezing you up to his face while he relentlessly eats you.

He forces his tongue so deep, making out with your body and swallowing all that’s spilling from you. He really has no shame when it comes to eating a girl right.

He does it so messy and sloppy, letting off hot groans while sinking his nails into the fat of your ass.

Your mind suddenly bends, wriggling under his heavy body as he sucks your second orgasm from you.

He pulls away with a smirk, “Good?”

☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

And they pester you relentlessly, for weeks, tagging anything they say to you over message, face to face, in public, at home, wherever, with “Who did it better, it was me, right?”

You always return glares or ignore them completely, still in disbelief that you let them get away with that.

It was only one night, your friendly relationships with both men maintained perfectly. They’re just more handsy, finding any excuse to touch you and make you feel good.

Now they’ve had a taste of you, they need more. So much so that they’re constantly vying for your attention and praise, their competition becoming more and more heated by the day.

But you love watching them fight over you.

You have a feeling you’ll never answer them.

toji | m.list

selfshiptember 23!!

likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #18+ content #selfshiptember #selfshiptember 2023 #toji x reader #satoru x reader #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #satoru gojo #satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru

725 notes · View notes

minsimagines · 6 months

Text

stars, part. ii

pairing; pro hero!midoriya x f!reader

word count; 5,8k

parts; one, two

warnings; MDNI!!! SMUT. fulfilled yearning. friends to lovers. unprotected sex. piv. heavy on the overstim. hint of choking. whimpering boys.

+ gaaaaaahhhh... he makes me feral. requests are open. <3 this is not proofread, so just be warned lmao

you’re braver than you give yourself credit for.

“i… would like that,” you breathe, and a small smirk curves his mouth at the corners in satisfaction, but he’s not cocky in realizing you feel for him—quite the opposite. he’s humble as ever. soft and sturdy and deceptively innocent.

you’re not usually one to dive head-first into anything, preferring to stay back and test the waters much longer than necessary before slowly descending beneath the surface. however, his patience — this gentlemanly behavior — makes you feel a certain confidence in taking a lead. it’s clear you both want something more.

you won’t take the lead though, because he is izuku midoriya. he is the most perfect man you have ever laid eyes on, and you are terrified of messing something up now that he’s here with you. you want him to take the lead, above all else, because it’s impossible for him to mess up with you — you’ll take whatever he wants to give, suddenly so desperately needy for him to have his way with you. even if he simply wanted to speak to you and nothing else, you would take it. you’d listen to whatever he wants to tell you.

his eyes are staring at your lips as though you are the lifeline of the two of you, and your body flushes with heat that centers itself in your belly, erupting into some kind of feral flight of butterflies at the idea that he finds you special enough to want to hold onto you.

scratch that, there aren’t butterflies in your belly; they’re bloodthirsty bats who want you to bite and lick the thick fatty muscles across his whole body.

you’re not usually so wicked in your desires, but he is being too slow in his advances — you have weeks worth of shy conversation to catch up, so why not slam all those words into one big act of selfish intimacy? or ten. you wouldn’t mind going overboard. this water is tempting.

he’s been looking at your lips too much now, and you’ve been looking at his, and you think you might lose your head if you don’t feel his mouth on yours within the next minute.

but you don’t want him to think it’s only sex you want. because it’s not. even if your mind is screaming for you to jump him. you want him, period. all of him. whatever that would entail — you could handle it. as long as he never ignores you again.

so you lift the hand you hold in yours, feeling the calluses of hard work as you hold his fingers in front of your mouth and press your lips to his knuckles. his eyes flicker down to his hand against your lips, and his smile turns a little shy.

“you’re soaked,” you mutter against his fingers, more for your own benefit than his comfort, eyes fluttering as you look at the outline of the thick muscles of his chest, a furious blush rising on your cheeks. you want him to take off his shirt, and the fact he wants you as much as you want him makes you feel powerful and bold, and you really, really want to feel his skin under your fingers.

izuku studies you, hungry gaze slitted as he takes in the silent request. he’s patient with all of this, but he catches on, thank heavens.

slowly, he slips his hands away from you and wrings the wet shirt over his head, and you think you may need to step into another room to take a breather or to drink a glass of water, or to touch some fucking grass, because he is so unfathomable and beautiful and so horribly thick that you don’t even know what to do with all of him now that he’s been given to you.

his gaze descends to your tank top, your heaving chest, down to your bare thighs, before they come back up to linger at your hips. he takes liberties, sensing in the air that you’re game for whatever he wants to do with you, and he reaches for you. big hands pull you in by your waist, and tentative as you are, you stumble into him, palms slapping against the damp, hot skin of his chest.

you think you see the heat of a blush on his cheeks as his nose brushes yours, a drunken smile on those pretty pink lips, his hands sliding down to your hips, fingers tugging at the hem of your top. you lift your arms to let him slip it off of you.

his fingers are delicate as they find your bare waist, brushing over the skin as he slowly takes a hold of you. goosebumps shoot across your body as he holds you close, and you look up at him through your lashes, wondering if he can see how bad you want to kiss him.

he lifts your chin with gentle fingers, tilting your head a tad backward with those calloused hands that are capable of such power, and he looks at the shifting emotions in your eyes for a moment before his mouth presses against yours. your eyes slide shut, savouring the sensation of his warmth against yours. sweet, short.

your mouths part slightly, but not a moment later he has your lips against his again. smooth, velvety — you don’t see stars, but you feel the bloodthirsty bats in your belly flapping their wings throughout your entire body.

the shift of his hands turn less timid as he lets perhaps a sliver of his desperation take over, large hands gripping your waist, drawing you up against his chest, tongue parting your lips as you both fall into a rhythm. your own hands support yourself on his biceps, and the feeling of his hot, damp skin and thickly wired muscles warps your wistful mind into precious cotton, all sense of the world around you leaving with all notion of any sort of shame.

one of his hands move up, sliding over your shoulder, fingers descending into the hair at the back of your neck, gripping it and setting your body ablaze with longing. it’s more than a longing, but you don’t have the mind to dwell on what it is that truly simmers between the two of you, and you definitely wouldn’t have dared hope either way. he is izuku, after all. the great deku. the one. the largest and brightest star in any universe you want to know of.

the deceptiveness of his innocence flickers, the hand on his waist slipping down to grip your plump ass, forcing your body closer to him, the hand at the back of your head taking charge of your entire frame.

to stand within his embrace, to feel even a hint of the strength that truly rests under that calm and sweet exterior is exhilarating, and while you don’t want pain, you don’t want him to hold back too much either. you feel him smile against your lips, as if the way your fingers tighten on his flesh gave away your thoughts.

to your great mortification and alleviation, the hand on your ass slides up to the clasp of your bra, and while it impresses you it also send your mind whirling how he so expertedly releases your breasts from their holder with one hand. the release of tension on your shoulders and chest gives you a sudden sense of falling, a dread rushing through your veins. he is so familiar with this action that he must have done it over and over; what if you are not up to his standard? you are not the most confident in your body, you often see more flaws than anything else, and thus those flaws must be visible to him too.

and he isn’t as shy as you have made him out to be within your mind’s eye. he parts from your lips, he leans back and he slips your bra down your arms, and he curses under his breath as your nipples tighten in the chill of the air.

his hands aren’t nearly as timid when he reaches out to grip your waist, pressed against the underside of your boobs, eyes lit with some rough possession as he stares at your bare torso. a shudder rips across your skin as his thumbs stroke over your tits, over the pert peaks, and any doubt you might have had seemed to fly away with your exhale. his big palms cup your breasts, as though he too can’t seem to understand this is happening.

“fuckin’ beautiful,” he mutters, as though enchanted, his dark gaze finding yours again. you’re exposed, and you don’t find that to be the most comfortable of experiences , but it strokes your confidence and so you manage to keep from covering and hiding. you do blush though.

one of his hands find your neck, your jaw, tilts your head up as his lips hover above yours again, and you grow dizzy when he says, “you’ve been hiding all this from me, hm?”

it’s yours, take it. i’ll never hide again, you want to say. you don’t because your words fail you and you don’t dare mess anything up.

your shy fingers find his strong stomach, ghosting over the skin and muscle there with deliberate tardiness on their way up to his chest. your feel the scars, the evidence of the hard life he lives, the life he makes look so effortless and valiant.

you can’t get yourself to look directly at his scars but you map them out, taking notice of how he tenses slightly, how he watches you intently, how he lets you do what it is you wish to do.

“did they hurt?” you don’t actually dare to hear the answer, because you’re deep in him now and you fear his pain might easily become yours, and you’re no good with pain.

“i don’t remember,” he says, voice soft and warm, even while tinged with somber memories. his thumb brushes over your cheek. “probably.”

“i’m sorry.”

his brows lower. “no fault of yours.”

“i mean…” you trail off. you feel guilty. “i was mad at you. you don’t deserve that.”

“i fight my battles because i choose to. i hurt your feelings by choice as well, even if it was not intended to hurt.”

“but you are someone important. i’m not.”

his eyes search mine. “do you honestly believe that?”

“that you’re important?”

“that you’re not.”

“i… of course. you’re a pro hero.”

“baby,” izuku breathes, shaking his head, and you are thankful for the hold he has on you, otherwise your knees might give out. “you are someone.”

“not someone special.”

“you’re special to me,” he mutters, brushing his nose against yours. “and i’m going to show you just how special you are,” he tenderly smiles against your lips, a little cocky now, as though he knows he’s going to show you the stars you’ve envisioned.

he kisses you again, deeper, stronger, and his tongue slides against yours, and you shiver and sigh through your nose, standing on your tippy toes, afraid you can’t get close enough. through your kiss he lets out a scoff of a laugh through his nostrils at your efforts, and you blush, but he doesn’t let you grow shy — he holds you tighter, slides his hands down your back, fingers dip into the hem of your soft shorts.

parting from your lips, he suddenly removes his hands from you, only to bend down and pick you up by the back of your thighs. you startle, you want to protest, afraid you’re too heavy, but he lifts you up and you wrap timidly around him with a small, shy laugh as he carries you toward the only other door within the apartment — your bedroom.

his lips are on yours again by the time he drapes you across the slightly chill fabric of your bedsheets. he leans over you, one knee on the bed between your legs, hands on the sides of your head, holding himself up.

then, he kisses your jaw and down the sensitive skin of your neck, and it’s almost painful how your skin blossoms into goosebumps in the wake of his soft kisses.

everwhere his lips touch, the skin stings with cold when the soft flesh of his mouth leaves your skin.

“i’m going to make it up to you,” he promises against your sternum.

“for what?” you breathe.

“for making you feel like a nobody,” his kisses trail down to your chest, eyes flickering up to take in your expression and you’re happy to see he’s blushing just as you are. “when the truth is that you are the only body—” his lips brush your nipple, “i care about.”

you can’t reply, can’t think to form word even if your butterfly bats run wild within you at his words — his damp lips close around your nipple, his tongue drawing a slow circle around the peak, and your back arches, chest presses up toward him. oh, sweet, dreamy electricity pulses through your body.

he stays there, and there is such pleasure from the gentle slide of his tongue over the sensitive bud, but there is also a painful ache. a longing that has been building up far too long. you adore the sight of him, your whole body loves his mouth on your breasts, but its not enough. there is something wicked inside you that craves more.

even if you think to yourself that you are already heaving for breath at his mouth on your skin, how on earth will you survive the feeling of him inside you?

“i have wanted you,” he confesses, “for a long time. i just didn’t have the balls to do anything about it.”

he has the balls now, that’s for sure.

you can’t breathe.

“i thought for sure—” his lips trail kisses to your other breast as he whispers the inner workings of his mind to you. “you just found me annoying. had i known you were pining same as me…” his wet lips press kisses around your nipple. “i wish i could say i would have had the balls, but i still probably wouldn’t have,” he scoffs, and you want to laugh with him, you want to make him see you find it endearing that he’s not a cocky bastard who assumes. the very thing he thought you didn’t like about him was the thing that made you fall for him in the first place.

brilliant, considerate pro hero deku who seems unable to decide whether he is bold or timid.

all you can get yourself to do is reach up and run your fingers through his thick, dark, dark green hair. you grip the hair at the back of his head, delicately, and tug ever so slightly, and while your demure takes away any domination in the movement, he still sighs and latches onto your nipple again, before he lets his lips travel down your stomach.

he drapes himself over you, coming back up to your face, and you lok at him in a soft haze.

“i want to make you feel good,” he whispers against your lips. “can i do that?”

“yes,” you whimper. “please.”

he kisses you, soft and firm and steady as his hand takes hold of your shorts, and you’re so dazed you eagerly help him rid of the remaining clothes on your body. you hardly feel the cold air, his warm body pressing against yours again.

you can hardly piece together a thought as his firm hand finds your bare hip, slowly slipping down your thigh, and when it reaches your knee, he hikes your thigh up on his hip, and you sigh against his lips when he grinds his clothed cock against the apex of your thighs.

he lingers there for a moment, letting you feel him through his sweatpants, a warning and a promise of what’s to come. then he lowers your knee enough to slip his hand between your body, as the arm holding his weight by your head, slides under your head, embracing you as his fingers between your bodies find your wet, soft folds.

your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers slowly drags through the wetness, from bottom to the top, putting delicious pressure against your clit, enough that your hips curve upward toward him, a silent demand for more.

his fingers move slowly but surely, imprinting the memory of the feel of you into his mind. he takes his time, watches what makes your body react, watches to see what you like.

when his long middle finger slide into you, your eyes rolll back. it’s not so much the very feeling of him inside of you (even if that too feels like some sinful blessing), but the very fact it’s him. the very fact he yearns for you too. the very fact he is so beautiful and he finds you beautiful too. and he’s so hot. it’s enough to ignite you on its own, but now he’s added matches, and fuel, and wood.

he groans at the feeling of you clenching on his finger. he slides in and out, as slowly as he moved prior, feeling you and recognizing you, taking note. he kisses your throat as he adds a second finger, and now you’re close to blacking out from the sensation pressing against your insides alone.

but you cannot blackout, because the sun is right above you, staring at you with glowing, half-lidded eyes, eclipsing the whole of your horizon.

you don’t see stars, but you feel like the very ether floating between them. it doesn’t feel like you have shape, but his fingers paint it out for you, and as his digits curl inside your soft, wet walls, your body shudders into existence once more.

a breathy, whiny moan leaves your lips as the pads of his fingers press just right against the sensitive tissue, your fingers gripping onto his biceps with vigor, hips grinding against his hand. the sun sees everything its light touches, and your every reaction is catalouged and utilized.

izuku curls his fingers perfectly, and you gasp and gape and you can’t keep your eyes open, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you ride his hand from where you’re laying.

“you like that?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear, and you clench down on his thick fingers, feeling once more that wicked desperation growing within you, overtaking all forms of shame.

you can’t get yourself to answer, your throat barely able to let out the moans and whimpers his fingers are begging for, but you whine and nod your head.

“use your words, baby,” he demands softly, and everything shimmers extra bright for a moment.

“yes,” you gasp.

“good girl,” he says against your ear, and everything goes blinding white for a moment, and you’re suddenly on the edge of an orgasm.

“oh god, fuck—” you cry, as it builds and builds, and his fingers are steady as they curl against that sponge inside me, the slurping sounds of your wet pussy echoing between your bodies.

something snaps inside you, throwing you right into the depths. your body tightens, clenching around his fingers, all sound stuck in your throat.

he kisses your throat as you lean your head back, body curling against him as his fingers still work your cunt, a shameless cry leaving your lips.

your eyes are open, yet you’re only seeing lights and darkness against each other, fingers dug so deep into his skin that you’re sure you’re about to add to his collection of scars, but you cannot get yourself to care.

slowly, he calms his fingers, though he watches you like a man starved — his hunger is insatiable, and this was not even an appetizer. he doesn’t want to stop, you realize, but there is something more you both want.

he makes quick work of his pants and his boxers, and you wrap around him desperately as he lays himself on top of you again. you feel his hardness against your opening, but he kisses your lips, licks into your mouth, and you moans at the feeling of him. you take notice of every single inch where his strong body touches yours.

“so pretty,” he breathes, gathering you to him, wrapping an arm around you, holding you like something precious to him.

you whimper, slightly overwhelmed by the feeling of being wanted.

“i’ll take care of you,” he murmurs against your lips. somehow, you’re certain he means more than just right now. you’re almost positive he means to take care of you for a long time, in all ways.

“izuku,” you breathe, because it’s the only thing that makes sense to you and it’s the only thing you want to say.

he groans, one hand gripping your thigh, lips devouring yours again. he lifts your knee again, hikes it up on his hip, and the tip of his cock presses to your folds.

“i’ve wanted you for so long,” he sounds as breathless as she feels. “i’m gonna make you feel good, okay?” his voice is like a deep velvet, wrapping you in comfort as he waits for you to nod your head. your pussy is so wet it takes almost no effort to bully his tip inside, even if he is big and you gasp softly, gripping onto him like the lifeline he is.

“shh,” he comforts you, whispers soft confirmations in your ear, and you can’t understand how you got lucky enough to have a reality such as this.

bright and blinding izuku, who is a sunrise that hardly fits in your sky, but he’s here and he’s vibrant.

slowly, he presses further, the thickness of him almost unbearable, but in the good way. it makes you wonder how it is possible to feel so good, so right, so delicious. it shouldn’t be.

he slips back, pulling a soft moan from your lips as your eyes meet his as he settles deep sindie you again, your lips parting further. he lets out a shudder at the sensation, and he watches you, holds your gaze as he drives into your with slow, deep strokes, making sure you feel every inch of him.

he’s not all the way in, he can't fit it all, you can feel it, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

you’re in love anyway.

he kisses you, warmly and softly and lovingly.

“i’m sorry,” he mutters after having pressing the thick length of his cock into the depth of your overly sensitive walls and then stilling, and you don’t have half the brain to ask whatever he’s sorry for—

he pulls his hips back, and slams them back against yours, bottoming out with a force that sends your head into the clouds, stars right into your eyes. they’re all you can see as he sets a pace, thrusting his cock into your gummy walls with the ferocity of a man whose hunger cannot be quenched no matter how much he indulges in.

you can hardly make a sound, all noise stuck in your throat as your body struggles to decipher the pleasure he provides as he pounds into you.

“oh fuck,” he moans breathlessly in your ear, and it triggers something profound within you — you need yo hear that sound again. your pussy clenches all on her own, clamping down around him, sucking him back into yourself.

he groans at the feeling, head hanging against your shoulder as he grips the underside of your knee, pushing it up toward your chest, giving himself more leverage. his grip on your leg is iron, but it is nothing short of wonderful.

you moan at the pulsating waves that shudder through your body, fingers digging into his back, terrified that if you let go, you will fall into a million pieces. he is so big, so broad and all-encompasing, he may as well have been breaking you in two, but you never wanted it to stop as your hips involuntarily moved up to meet his thrusts.

“fuck, baby, do that again,” izuku frowns deeply, pushing himself up enough to look down at his cock thursting into your cunt.

as you lift your hips, grind them up against him, his lips part as his eyes stay locked on the mesmerizing sight of your little pussy sucking his big cock in, your hips moving so sweetly against his — he groans, gripping the underside of your thighs and pushing them up to your chest. he leans up, sitting on his knees as he hold onto the very upper part of your thighs, thrusting into you, unable to look away from the sight of him inside you.

from the look in his eyes alone - the inability to fathom the pleasure and emotion of this reality - you feel your body curl as you’re slowly inching onto that edge again.

the sound of his hips slapping against your skin fill the room, the slurping of your wet pussy, the breathless moans and whimpers.

“god, you’re so fucking perfect,” he he utters like a devotion, like he can’t believe what he sees is real.

your eyes roll back again, and he notices because of course he does — he presses your knees to your chest and leans forward, pounding so hard into you that you think you shouldn’t be able to do anything but fall apart.

you do — you fall apart in every good way you could ever imagine.

you’re frozen, body unable to curve and curl under his grip anyway. you gape, feeling the relentless tremors of your orgasm crashing through your body, and you slowly let out whiny cries from the blinding lightning that strikes through your veins with each of his deep, powerful strokes inside you.

he slips out of you, and he uses his hold on your thighs to turn your over, and even as sensitive as you are, you get onto your knees and elbows as he tugs you back toward the edge of your bed. he stands behind you.

“fucking hell,” he curses, hand running over the flesh of your ass, making your pussy clench.

“look at you,” he marvels.

he runs a finger up your slit, and you arch your back downward, ass pushed up to meet his finger. “prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen.”

he pushes his dick back inside you, and you can do nothing but grip the sheets beneath you in a white-hot grip as the overwhelming feeling of him pressing against the sponge deep inside you threatens to make your body collapse.

the pace he sets is almost gruesome, his grip on your hips so ferocious you can’t help but press your ass back on him to feel more of it. you don’t want him to hold back. shy or not, you want him to take what’s his.

he let’s out a rough laugh as he leans forward, grabs a hold of the back of your neck, and pounds into you. you cry out, and he slams into you over and over and over and you can barely find a single thought within your mind that is not about his cock or his hands or his whimpering whines.

taken over by a soft tremor as you lean up onto your hands and turn your head so you can meet his eyes while you grind your ass back on him, wanting him to see just how bad you want him.

he blushes as you lock eyes with him, but whatever shyness he feels, it doesn’t deeter him.

his grip slips to the front of your throat, and he tugs you up toward him, holding you firmly as he thrusts up into you, your back arched almost painfully as he forces you back against him. you gasp at the change of angle, and the way he wraps his arm around your waist. you grip his hands desperately.

“oh, you wanna fuck me, baby? is that it?” he all but whimpers in your ear, and you moan shamlessly at the sound he makes, pussy clenching on his cock at the very thought of sitting on his dick, threatening to throw you into the open arms of another orgasm.

“yeah?” he breathes heavily, and you nod desperately. you can feel by the way his hips shutter slightly that he’s close to cumming as well.

he slips out of you and you whine at the loss of fullness, and he turns you around, gathering you to him as he shifts to sit on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. you straddle his lap, breathless and face flushed as he places a firm slap to your ass, making you jerk forward, leaning on him. he reaches for his cock, pushing it up agaisnt your folds.

you sit up on your knees, hovering above his lap as you slowly take his dick inside. your head rolls back as you lower yourself onto his fat cock. you can just barly see his forrowed brows, his parted lips, as his hands caress your hips, thighs and waist as he watches you.

as you sit yourself firmly down in his lap, taking almost all of him, you curve your back and press your chest towards him. he sucks your nipple into his mouth and your pussy grips onto his dick like a vice, and he moans against your breast.

you’re determined to hear more of his whimpers, and so you lift your hips, and lower them again. the tremor that runs through your body from the motion makes you think perhaps you will bend first with this kind of pleasure, but you’ve set yourself on a mission and you desperately want to make him cum.

it takes a few moments to find the grind and pace you like, and you can’t help gripping onto your other boob, taken over by the dreamy, soft and tense feeling in your body.

you bounce in his lap as he gapes at the sight of you, breathing heavily as he grips onto your hips with desperation.

“that’s it, baby, move those hips,” he encourages. “fucking god—”

you support yourself on his shoulders, focusing on the way his hips shift under yours, his heavy breaths turning into incoherent little cusses, no doubt about to cum.

“yeah, come on, fuck me,” he begs, head falling back. “you’re doing so fucking good, baby,” he murmurs, gripping your hips and thrusting up into you.

you cry out, feeling yourself tumble over yet another orgasm as your body trembles on top of him, gripping him so tight it was impossible it wouldn’t leave marks.

“shit,” he hisses. “that’s it, baby, that’s it.”

you shudder atop of him, but his thrusts are erratic. he’s close.

“fuck, you’re gonna fucking make me cum too,” he grips you tighter. “oh my god, fuck—”

his hips shudder, and his cock swells inside you, and you slow your movement a little, shifting to slowly ride out both of your orgams, even if every nerve ending within you is fried and you cannot feel your toes.

he lets out whimpers under you at the way you still ride him, and you’re reignited.

lifting your hips, you lean forward onto him, focusing solely on the movement of your hips, grinding your pussy up and down his throbbing shaft.

izuku grips onto you.

“oh my god, oh my god, oh—fuuuuck,” he whimpers, and you bite the side of his throat. his hips tremble under you, his hands on your hips brutal, but he doesn’t stop you.

he shudders. “fuck, fuck, fuck, please,” he begs, and you can tell he doesn’t know what he’s begging for, his turn to see stars and taste the white-hot flame of oversensitivity.

it almost hurts to move, your insides so well used and beaten, but you are sick with some insatiability that won’t let you stop.

his words turn to incoherent strings of cursewords and begging and whimpers that curl around your body.

you sit up, bouncing fully on his dick again, reaching down to rub your clit as you take him. the filthy squelching between your hips echo, and your fingers press into the mess on his lower stomach every time she lowers on his cock, middle finger rubbing such heavenly circles on her clit, eding herself onto yet another orgasm.

he watches almost breathlessly, hips shaking so bad beneath you that he appears to be thrusting all over again. the way he writhes, the cries for mercy that leave his lips, tell you that it’s not the case; he is no longer in control of himself. he could have simply tipped you off of him, could have easily stopped you.

it can only mean he likes this.

you’re exhausted, you’re well spent, and you don’t know where you get the energy from, but you leans forward, whispering in his ear. “you like that, baby?”

he all but crumbles under you, not a single word making sense, as he tenses impossibly, hips thrusting up into you as he cums again.

the sight sends you into your own orgasm, and this time, he grabs your hips, holding you still on his lap as you pulse around his dick. he shudders, eyes closed tightly as he holds you.

you can hardly keep your own eyes open, and you slump forward. he catches your body, efficiently lifting you off of his dick with a soft moan, and he lays you down on your bed, before sliding down to lay flat on his back next to you.

your eyes are closed, your breath heaving, your legs tense and painful, your pussy throbbing. he is just about the same, but he finds the energy to put his hand on your thigh.

in the cooldown, you’re very happy about that very small action of reassurance. as soon as the clarity returns somewhat to your mind, you’re afraid you went too far, but his touch calms you.

he lays completely still for a long while, until he moves the arm up to curl under your neck and pull you into his side.

“sorry, baby, i’ll… clean you up later,” he mumbles, half-gone into a dream already. “just gotta…”

you follow suit, a heap of legs and arms against his chest. he holds you close until you finally dare think to get up from this soft, sweet moment.

big, sweet pro hero deku, who blushes as he fucks you

your izuku, whose stars aligned with yours perfectly.

363 notes · View notes

jazzyblusnowflake · 2 months

Note

I saw your post about your Nuzi headcanons and I have to say THEY ARE ADORABLE!

But it got me thinking, do you have any Vuzi headcanons?

I don't why but I've become obsessed with them in the past while and I wanted to know if you had any ideas for them since you made that incredible Vuzi comic a while back.

oh jeesums, i didn't really expect people to like my HCs enough for it to get over a hundred likes 😭😭😭💕

but yesss id love to take a swing at writing down my subconsciously decided vuzi headcanons too XD so lessee-

Some Vuzi Headcanons i got òvó:

[once again only the drone version ones and as sfw as i can manage lmao sorry asddjfkdfl-]

This version being for AFTER everything is over with and V is ALIVE //or I'm going for Liam's neck personally//- but whether she's with N too or not is for your own interpretation, cuz for ME personally she gets with Uzi AFTER N and Uzi were already a thing together-

Starting a bit similar to the previous HCs, unlike with N, Uzi and V looooooooooooove calling eachother names- ranging from pet names to petty insults, they very hardly call each other their actual names lmao; and Uzi is probably the ONLY person that could get to call V pet names or flirt with her and get away unscathed- V has very little tolerance for anyone else. when actually trying to be intimate or flirty- Uzi loves calling V "Kitty" [cliche i know] and its one of the more acceptable pet names that V allows, but sometimes Uzi goes for pet names to actually make V blush and feel flustered, and those are usually from Uzis more compassionate side since V is allergic to romance apparently 🙄. calling V things like "my pretty", "gorgeous", "you wild thing"- drives V up the wall and she's stuck between wanting to bite Uzi's face off or rip her own off- and likewise when V wants to fluster Uzi she has her own range of heat fueled pet names like "baby bat/batsy", "cutie", "my little snacc"- and overall their job is to try and drive eachother insane lmao. less romantic names on both their sides would be=> [Uzi]: fatty, insufferable nutcase, dumb boob// [V]: shorty, edgy toaster, lil freakshow- and etc etc. TLDR: names.... they call eachother alot of names. that's it lmao.

They have a more avoidant relationship, where N and Uzi would seek comfort in one another, Uzi and V realize when the other isn't feeling well they need space to let off steam and trust one another enough that the other will come to them when they are ready. this isn't the most perfect way to deal with things given they are usually on a time crunch and need to get over their traumas quickly, but in the end they both know they are there for eachother when it matters the most.

teasing.... they do alot of that- although one would argue that V is the only one winning here 😭. V would not let the subject of Uzi being short go- if there's any moment that she could make the joke, she will not let the opportunity pass- anything relating to flustering or embarrassing Uzi absolutely goes- its not uncommon for N to walk in on the two fighting while V is just laughing and cooing at the other that she's just a cute lil baby while Uzi is trying her best to strangle the other without actually harming her. but then Uzi says that V is just a big dumb boob cuz that's all she could see from her pov and N is desperately trying to keep himself from laughing in the background-

V loves picking up Uzi.... that's it... she would never admit it out loud, but holding Uzi up, whether on her back or holding her from the front and feeling Uzi cling to her for support gives her immense internal joy, even if she doesn't show it in her expression. she often prefers picking Uzi up when they make out and this works in both their favors too cuz Uzi loves being taller lmao.

V wouldn't admit it but she is terrified of Uzi getting angry. like actually, genuinely, furiously LIVID level of angry Uzi is enough to make V curl her tail between her legs and just step away slowly. and Uzi.... when Uzi is mad, she talks sickeningly sweet to V. that's how V knows its time to fucking RUN or PERISH.

V is a lot more traumatized than N from Cyn's influence. during her comatosed state she can still vividly remember all the things Cyn had done to her in her mindspace, the same way N got to see all of his own mangled bodies in his own headspace, but unlike N she remembered all of it, hence why she turned into a neurological murder bot. So while she is with the others shes often scared opening up emotionally, and to fix this Uzi tries to force her for some cuddle times. don't get me wrong sometimes both N and Uzi have to literally WRESTLE V til she no longer has energy to fight back just to drag her in the cuddle pile. she usually doesn't talk much and even more rarely breaks down into crying but she's secretly grateful of having Uzi to sometimes force her into things she should do more often in order to heal, and one of those is learning to trust again.

V and Uzi have sparring sessions every now and then- tho sometimes V fights dirty- if you catch my drift lmao- and Uzi is weak for that shit, sadly 😔 Uzi finds herself contemplating her life choices when V is constantly giving her new kinks to consider smhhhh. it doesnt help that V doesnt treat Uzi as weak or breakable, she goes all out and Uzi is thankful to her about it. tho N would not touch this particular catfight between two wild ladies with a 100ft pole- [which would probably be the distance he's standing and watching from...just in case...]

funny enough most of their arguments end with makeout sessions. N cant tell if this is their way of flirting from the start or their way of making up after a fight....

V is secretly protective of Uzi, not interfering when Uzi is dealing with someone but standing a few steps behind her, brandishing her claws just in case, to send an obvious message.

V is absolutely rough when trying to be intimate. Uzi needs lots of energy to heal from bite marks but they always make sure the other is comfortable about it. but when Uzi is soft and gentle with her and focuses on being reassuring and loving towards her, V's a flustered incoherent mess-

despite being the more avoidant one, V is usually the one who initiates any intimacy- [mostly because Uzi is too short or busy or embarrassed to do so 🙄] and when she gets needy, Uzi feels internally giddy as though a cat has chosen her or something-

Uzi likes to ask V sometimes of any HAPPY memories she had back at the mansion.

OKAY- damn that was LOOOOOONG- hope these are good enough- i had a lot of fun writing them :D

once again, left out any nsfw hcs 😇 enjoy the dumpster fire lesbiams-

i also tried my best to leave out the N x Uzi x V headcanons so it would seem more specifically for Vuzi :"3

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation v #serial designation n #vuzi #nuziv #vuzin #violetviolence #violentbitingbiscuits #snowballflo #snow rambles #took 3 hours this time #i love writing but DAMN it takes so much time smhhh

120 notes · View notes

allfattenedup · 7 months

Note

I'm a huge fan of your content, but I need to take a minute to talk about something you do that drives me absolutely wild:

I love when gainers tag their stuff as "ex-jock". Because, in the "real world" when someone uses terms like that, it's typically to describe a specific body type. An "ex-jock" is someone who works out, or at least used to. Sure they've gone a bit to seed, and they have a nice little pot belly going on, but their strong muscles, the developed upper body or the muscled glutes are all still present and noticeable. Any fat they have doesn't really jiggle all that much, because at the end of the day, there's still, you know, muscle supporting it.

But you gainers have created a second meaning for the term. When gainers like you use "ex-jock", it's not helpful shorthand to describe a specific body type, it's something used to remember a person who doesn't exist anymore. Because no one looks at a developed, established fatty, gut hanging and jiggling, ass and thighs plush and dimpled with cellulite, two chins and chubby cheeks grown plump with gorging on thousands of calories of chocolates and junk food, and thinks "oh yeah, he ran track in high school". Once you hit a certain threshold of weight gained, that history disappears. No one can see the hours in the gym. No one respects the team captain anymore. No one sees you as anything other then a lifetime fatty, because how could someone that fat ever have been anything else?

But that's not how gainers like you like to operate. Destroying the athlete you used to be, rendering them invisible, is only half the objective. Sure, you're fat now, probably fatter then you ever wanted to be (not that something like a weight limit, or goal, could ever stop you), but that alone doesn't give you the perverse thrill you crave. So what can you do? "ex-jock". A word that works like a brand. Now, no matter how fat you get, no matter how hungry you are or how much muscle mass you replace with soft, jiggling fat, the world will know that you made yourself this way. Like a bat signal in the sky, calling everyone to see an athlete that was conventionally attractive, fit and energetic, and who gave it all away. All so you could be what you see before you now.

And you're still hungry for more.

I don’t know what I can add to this because it’s perfection 😩👌🏼🐷🥵 And you nailed it. To me, I use ex-jock so that when people look at me they try to imagine what I must have looked like before I ruined my body with fat.

When they see my belly wobble against my heavy thighs, I want them to know the feeling is still strange to me, still new, still a bit frightening. Very exciting.

That the face I see in the mirror was once radically different. You’d have thought so differently of me if you’d known me before I got fat. But if I use ex-jock, at least you know when you see me like this that once I was the complete opposite of what I've now become.

That I’ve changed. I’m not making the best of the body I have, I’m making the worst body I can possibly bear, and then a little bit worse than that. Maybe a lot worse if things get out of hand. Methodically, intentionally, fatter and fatter, loving how hard it is to see myself like this. Relishing the constant, gentle horror as my fat arms wobble while I eat. Delighting in the dreadful embarrassment of a new double chin.

And you're right. I am hungry for more. Desperate, even.

#askafu #exjock #😏

203 notes · View notes

who-knew-a-sheep-can-write · 15 days

Text

Face Full: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Includes: Breast play, breast fucking, bustiers(?), dirty talking, drunk sex, nipple biting

Wooden stairs creaked underneath your shared weights, the music coming from the lively piano did not want to mix well with your swaying vision and the fact that you and Arthur were leaning on each other too much as you both climbed the stairs. You were both surrounded by other drunks, the saloon was filled with the stench of cigars being smoked down to stubs and cheap whiskey splashing out of glasses and vomit wafting in from the alleyway windows.

Somehow, you both had made it to the room at the end of the hall without falling over. Arthur threw open the door and nudged you inside quickly, a wide smirk plastered across his face.

The room was barely furnished, but you both didn’t give a shit at this point. All you wanted was a mattress, and there laid one with cheap sheets folded neatly and thin pillows waiting to be kicked off the bed. The frame was iron, it looked like it had seen better days. It was going to make a lot of noise.

It didn’t take long once the door was closed behind you for Arthur to be upon you. His kisses were scratchy from his stubble, his lips dry from sipping whiskey, his teeth sharp against your soft skin. He snatched at you greedily, he drew you in close and wrapped his arms around you, never wanting to let you go. He growled into the kiss, you whimpered as you dug your fingers into his shoulders.

“How do ya open this thing up?” Arthur grumbled, fumbling with the tightly wound strings. Before you could undo the bustier yourself, you were suddenly freed with a clean swipe from Arthur’s knife. “Much better,” he purred in your ear.

“Arthur!” you caught the fallen and now ruined bustier.

He batted the ruined thing out of your hands, the mix of fabrics and steel hitting the wooden floorboards with a loud ‘thump’. He grabbed ahold of your shoulders and pushed you onto the bed, making sure to lock his hands in place on your hips.

He hunched over you, his rock-hard erection now poking at you through the layers on your skirts. His hot breath hit the back of your neck, his breath smelled of whiskey and cigarettes.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he growled in your ear.

He pulled back and grabbed at your skirts, fumbling with the layers of material before somehow managing to wriggle them down your legs, dropping the heap of fabrics to the floor and kicking them out of the way with his booted heel. He flipped you over by the waist, his eyes dark and filled to the brim with lust as he locked eyes with your full bust.

He snatched at the bottom of your top and hiked it up and over your head, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder to join your ruined bustier and skirts. You were left in only your brassiere and your panties, both of which Arthur touched delicately with roughened hands; especially your breasts.

His thumbs followed the curve of the lace cups shielding his eyes from your nipples, nails biting into the delicate materials. You could tell he wanted to rip them off of you without a second thought, but he hesitated in his actions. Instead, he cupped your large breasts and squeezed your soft breasts, kneading them with his large hands. Arthur reached behind you and carefully unhooked the brassiere apart, making sure to take extra care in placing it on the floor instead of throwing it aside without a care in the world.

Arthur took a moment to admire your large, nude bust. He ran a thumb over your pebbling nipples and squeezed the fatty flesh softly. For as rough as his hands were from scratches and burns and callouses, they were soft running over your flesh. He leaned down and pressed a few scratchy kisses to your breasts, pulling soft mewls from you. The scratch of his beard felt so good against your bare breasts.

Arthur suddenly bit at your right nipple, a sharp cry came from you as you arched yourself closer to him.

Arthur chuckled darkly and replaced the bite with another kiss.

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he hummed.

Arthur grabbed at his belt, the buckle rattled as he managed to unravel it from around his waist and dropped it to the floorboards. He grabbed at your ankles daintily draped over the edge of the mattress and yanked you closer to him, a startled cry left your lips as your ass was now hanging off the edge. Your back was curved, your feet moving for purchase against the wooden floor to keep you from slipping.

Arthur was above you, unbuttoning his pants and pulling out his erect manhood. A bead of precum slid down his head like a salty pearl.

Arthur grabbed your breasts and pressed them together tightly, allowing him the perfect spot to plunge his cock between your pillowy breasts. You had to grab onto Arthur’s shoulders to keep yourself from slipping off the bed.

Arthur bucked his hips into the space between your breasts, and low groans emitted from his chest as he quickened his pace. Arthur played with your breasts as he fucked between them. He squeezed your breasts, pinched and tugged at your nipples, and sank his blunt nails into the soft skin.

His hips were snapping back and forth with such speed that you were sure would break his back, but the man only kept going. His mouth was parted slightly, his breathing was rough, his voice nothing but low groans and sighs as he fucked your tits.

It felt good to have him between your breasts, it felt great having his grab and scratch and pinch your breasts.

His pace only quickened with time, you could see his arms shaking just a bit holding your breasts together, his legs were starting to quiver as well besides you.

Arthur tilted his head back and groaned loudly as he came apart. Pearly white cum suddenly coated your face in droplets, dripping down your face and splattered onto your breasts and neck. It go in your hair, it got all over the sheets and pillows, it made your makeup all runny.

But Arthur didn’t care.

He thrusted into his climax slowly, his breathing finally winding down as his hips finally slowed. Arthur finally let go of your breasts and looked down at you. His lips pulled into a smirk as you wiped the semen off of your face with your hands.

“You look mighty fine, darlin’,” he winked. “Makes me wanna do that again.”

#red dead redemption #rdr #arthur morgan #arthur x reader #arthur morgan x reader

63 notes · View notes

ms-scarletwings · 9 months

Text

The Speculative Analysis About Irkens No One Asked For: Part II

Hiya! Back at it again with not shutting up about the lil green dudes. In case you found this first, here’s the Part One of this spiel, touching on some of the environmental theories about Irk and its cyberpunk-leaning cultural direction. While this post is dedicated to a more biological look of what’s going on with the Irkens, there was some leading context and other tidbits back in that one you may also enjoy, too.

So, carrying through what we previously set up, I want to… admit off the bat that, I found it a little difficult at first, you know?-To pick an angle I wanted to sink my teeth into. With how old the show’s become and how creative & enthusiastic a fanbase it attracted, it’s getting hard to really note (or theorize) something about Irken anatomy that hasn’t been said before somewhere. And don’t get me wrong, that’s awesome and I love almost every word of it I’ve read. A lot of it from various sources is almost certainly going to bleed together into the first half of this. So, keep it in mind, yet I will try to chew a little deeper into the questions we can’t actually answer with just a rewatch of the show, all good? Because there’s a few more base things we know from the canon I’m going to include to start listing: - Irkens lack any visible form of nose or ears, but are equipped with a pair of sensory antennae. Presumably, these organs fulfill the same roles, as they do in real-world insects. - Irken organs are obviously very alien, not well explained, artificially enhanced, and hard to compare to that of a human’s- outside of their general body shape, the presence of a primary brain separate from the PAK, and the fact that they do possess something of an internal skeleton. - A petite race on average (relative to humans), Irkens universally follow an unquestioned social hierarchy based on individual height. - Irkens are endowed with a remarkable ability to regenerate and heal superficial injuries, even up to repairing the damage of being nearly skinned alive (chest-down) or severely burning their corneas within a matter of hours. - Their preferred diet is one that is rich in (if not primarily made of) refined carbohydrates, and while they seem to tolerate fatty sources, such as processed dairy, their anatomy is poorly suited for dealing with high-protein foods like beans and meat. - In fact, all forms of contact with exposed animal meat itself will cause it to dissolve and meld into their own flesh, via an incredibly painful process. - On contact with water from Earth, their skin will receive harsh chemical burns (This has been explained by Vasquez to be a consequence of impurities and man-made pollutants, which Irkens seem sensitive to). - While I’m already on a roll about their skin, it also contains/produces a substance capable of killing lice.

Now, I think we’ve all heard a lot about sqeedily spooches, but does anyone else want to keep marinating a second longer on the topic of s k i n ? Because I have some damn thoughts to release about Zim’s outer casing.

Let’s Get Chemical

First hot take, and the hill I am willing to be slain on: That ain’t actually skin! At least, it is nothing chemically alike to Earth-native vertebrate skin. I’ve given all of the above and the general running theme about Irkens resembling arthropods a lot of thought, and I’ve come to about the only conclusion I could that makes their dermis equivalent… make sense.

See, one of the biggest traits that sets apart invertebrates from other animals in real life is the “innie or outie” skeleton question, but you gotta understand that the “skeletons” that bugs and crabs have would still be considered something completely different from our endoskeletons even if they were on the inside. The hard tissues that make up OUR skeletal systems are mostly made up of a *collagen (remember that word!) frame that is reinforced by calcium, phosphorus, and other minerals. The hard parts of an ant’s skeleton, on the other foot, are mainly composited of chitin.

Chitin, now, is a very neat substance. It’s a polysaccharide, meaning that it’s made up of a bunch of sugar molecules chained together. This makes it distinct from proteins, which are made of amino acid chains instead of carbs. Chitin is also one of the single most important structural polymers in the universe to a ton of existing life. It makes up the literal backbone of arthropods and the cell walls of all fungi. We’ve even found it in fish scales and some amphibians. So, must also be important to humans, right? NAH. Not a chance. Higher animals actually long ditched the ability to synthesize the stuff, and are not any the worse for it, since there’s more than one way to stick a bunch of creature pieces together. For two examples, keratin and *collagen are proteins we naturally synthesize that functionally do the same thing. Keratin is the hard substance that makes up hair & fingernails, and collagen is practically the wonderglue of flesh: It’s a fundamental binder that holds together your bones, your skin, your precious muscle meats, the ligaments, the tendies, the nerves…

pretty much the whole person blueprint if you get the picture.

And thus concludes your (VERY overly simplified) highshcool bio class recap, but what the hell did that have to do with the cartoon spacemen again? I’m gonna round back to them through a funny secret about exoskeletons, actually: They have a softer part, too! Chitin’s hella diverse in its forms and utility. What’s in an exoskeleton is actually a version of it modified with other materials (like what’s done to collagen in bone) to make it so rigid and shell-like. A purer chitin, on the other hand, is more leathery and flexible, less like the shell of a beetle and more like the squishy wall around a caterpillar or maggot. Even the hard bodied insects still have an endocuticle layer like this hiding just under the “shell”, still considered part of the whole exoskeleton, but suddenly looking and acting more like we’d call a skin.

Eh, see where I’m going with this? My conviction is this- Irkens may have used to be even more arthropodal in an earlier stage of their evolution, including BOTH an internal skeleton, and some form of protective exoskeleton in their body plan. And hey, maybe the two were extensions of the same system once, too. You recognize something like that in modern tortoises when you remember that their “shells” are actually just the bone structure of their own ribcage. Then, let’s say that Irkens later saw the loss of their heavier exocuticle, leaving behind the endoskeleton and the flexible inner (now just an outer) cuticle of what used to be an entire body shell. This could have been a gradual change, via natural selection, or it could have been another artificial mutation brought on by technology- wherein the elder brains decided the feature was less efficient and simply phased it out of the cloning process- the same as the loss of their species’ sexual organs.

But, you’re thinking, why on Irk would the loss of an entire badass armor layer be beneficial to their fitness? Few reasons- For one, they are cumbersome and limiting. The downgrade on freedom of movement and flexibility they would be for a bipedal humanoid is self-explanatory enough. When it came to structural integrity, the inner skeleton would have already done a well job with little modification. For all the protection they provide, they don’t leave much room for expansion, and need to be shed in order for the animal to grow any further or to recover from certain injuries. The process of molting itself would be an excruciating process for any intelligent species to have to endure; one that also temporarily leaves the critter in a very vulnerable and stressed state for every molt. To advance from more primitive origins into a dominant race, manual dexterity and mobility would have to take a front seat over a small amount of modest defenses, and mind you, Irk long ago woulda managed to compensate for that loss in the form of advanced weaponry (obviously).

I’m also of the mind that the shift away from an exoskeleton could have even been the key to allowing the Irkens to even grow to the size they are now. Recall back to Part One for a second, where I shared the likely case for Irk having a massive bulk behind its gravity field. Gravity is a hard thing on any skeletal structure, representing a constant strain to be fought against when moving, growing, and bearing weight .There’s a lot of factors behind why we don’t have horse sized spiders or elephant sized lobsters IRL, and weight is actually one of them. Notice how terrestrial isopods only get about to the size of a bean, but the aquatic ones can top out at over a foot long? And that’s only having Earth’s level of gravity to struggle against, let alone however harsh the conditions would be on a larger planet. So, there’s my framework for explaining what I think the aliens’ cuticle is not; however, what does that mean for what it is, besides “feels and looks like a grub’s”?

Well, look again at some of the extraordinary things it can do.

Cooties Immunity

“Germs” was a memorable episode that posed a very legitimate question to the viewer. Why IS IT that foreign pathogens aren’t a bigger concern for the invaders? They’re literally sent off to other worlds to blend in: Socializing with the native inhabitants, eating their foods, and living in an alien habitat. In the case of an undiscovered rock like Earth, our infectious diseases would have no reference available to the Armada whatsoever. Sure, species incompatibility would provide some protection, but the risk of something carrying over and adapting is always still there. Zoonoptic jumps happen all the time with bacteria and viruses, and Zim’s body temperature IS in the normal human range. And what about fungal pathogens, or parasites-

Oh, wait, the lice episode gave it away right there.

I love this sequence so much, because it’s coincidentally like, an exact “art imitates life” parallel to something a real species of primate does. Black lemurs live in the same area of Madagascar as these vibrant, red millipedes.

The millipedes are special because when threatened, they secrete a poisonous substance from their skin. The lemurs are special because they like to grab the bugs and nibble them for no other reason than to make them release those toxins. Those chemicals are then rubbed into their fur, because somehow the lemurs figured out it makes a really handy mosquito repellant. The lemurs also like to get completely zonked out on the chemicals too but eyy- Point was it stands to reason that Irkens may also secrete small amounts of their own potent toxin from the cuticle, perhaps for more hygienic than defensive purposes. This secretion would be responsible for protecting them from parasites and topical infections. Could it also make people blazed out of their minds? …Maybe? I think I’d like to promote the “Just Say No” policy on the matter of licking aliens, though. Ffs at least ask them out to dinner first.

When it comes to other kinds of sick, looks like it might be the trusty old PAK to the rescue here again. I imagine that, being an intergalactic, partially mechanical civilization, the Irken race has come down this road enough to put in a workaround. A standard PAK contains the entirety of the population’s collective knowledge/history- which would include a catalog of all known infectious agents they have encountered across the universe. Some kind of nanobot-bolstered immune system that could detect and respond appropriately to new threats isn’t out of the question, nor should a feature that can automatically administer the appropriate medicine directly into the wearer’s bloodstream. For all this awesomeness, nonetheless, there remains a downside or two that they haven’t quite conquered..

The Meaty, Sweety, Mending of DOOM

Anyone ever actually think about how as far as resilience is concerned, Zim is practically an X-man compared to any Earthling? He has regenerative capabilities that surpass anything else on earth, save idk, bamboo shoots, if even. Injuries that would leave a human permanently disabled only seem to incapacitate an Irken for a few hours to a day at most. They’re all the more tough to put out of commission when considering that a PAK doubles as a form of backup life support, ready to “soft reboot” the host with a quick jolt if it detects a sudden drop in vital signs. It is tempting to credit the same device as the source of this healing boost as well, teasing the nanobot suggestion again; however, I see a chance instead to bring this back a step.

Although not as quick-acting as Zim, or Skoodge’s healing, there are some remarkable examples of regeneration in real arthropods, from repairing tissues/organs to replacing entire lost limbs. What the aliens are packing doesn’t seem all that different, only refined (through years of bioengineering) to work at a truly frightening efficiency. It shows through in their diet as well. Almost always, if we see a member of this species eating on screen, and believe me there was no shortage of examples, what are we watching them shovel their face with?

Space doughnuts, space popcorn, space Fun-Dip, sodas, and curly fries. Sure, there’s plenty of calories here, no doubt with the amount of carbs and grease that could even turn the stomach of a college freshman, but is this… nutrition?

Yes. Just not for us.

Like their civilization, we have also turned the mass production of sweet-packed, fat loaded foods into one of our favored art forms, and there are scattered pockets of our planet that can enjoy these items in cheap abundance. The catch 22? Obesity and heart disease. Meanwhile, Irkens are so metabolically blessed that they can follow the same lifestyle and actually be thriving by it. We know that the majority of human food is utterly toxic to Zim, but then there were waffles, a literal stack of dessert and butter that pretends to be a breakfast…. Our guy was experiencing the “finally some good fucking food” meme from the first bite off that plate, but this can’t seriously be healthy,or if it is, then how?

Well, if I did sell you on the idea that much of their tissues and skeleton swaps out a chitin base where we would be using protein, there you go. Sugars for the building blocks to synthesize the connective/structural tissues for maintaining the body, and the bulk of the energy required to keep it running. And I won’t make the leap and suggest that’s all they have.

After all, the Irken equivalent of sandwiches do actually seem to contain “lettuce” and something that people will say looks like meat slices while not convincing me. I can get behind the thought of the natural or maybe original Irken diet to be a mix of plant matter and supplemental fungi, but everything I’ve put together implies that they are completely unfit for processing the goodies in animal flesh.

Overwhelmingly, I believe that the only time they possibly even seek out more sources of amino acids is going to be when they are smeets. That’s how it works in many wasp species. I.e. The growing larvae are the only ones that actually get to reap from the hard work of a colony hunting down enough protein to feed them with, yet the adults live out the rest of their lives more than content to gorge themselves on nectars and fruits exclusively!

And you even could put that aside, but you’ll have to grapple with the ungodly thing that happens every single time you see Zim touching a piece of meat. Would be awfully convenient to blame it on his personal brand of weirdness, or earth contaminants, but we remember this was a weakness that Tak approached fully aware of and expecting.

We know that polluted water can burn them. We know that beans and other foods can give them grotesque allergic reactions. Well what in the horrifying name of Resident Evil is this, though? Buddy pals, I think we got some unintended consequences of that bio-hacking on hand. Collagen and chitin aren’t just functionally similar to each other, they are practically analogous building blocks.

For a WILD science fact, consider that there’s a ton of ongoing research into the application of chitin and chitin-derivatives into having a role in tissue engineering, as a hypothetical scaffold in lab cultured meat, and as an effective wound dressing ingredient.

What we’re seeing with incidents like Dib throwing that Bologna at Zim could be an extreme form of the vise versa, because I know a certain protein that processed meat happens to be pretty high in :)))

Imagine the coupling of this with the bioengineered genome of Zim’s kind being so… reactive to a foreign intrusion, yet also flexible to modification. Maybe it is the acids, or some contaminant/seasoning on the meat that first damages the cuticle. That healing ability kicks in, but doesn’t stop where chitin does, readily binding to and with the collagens in these strange tissues that are sorta like an Irken’s but also just enough not like an Irken’s that it also kicks the immune system into overdrive. Think of all the pain and inflammation of a poison ivy rash but if the damn plant itself could also fuse itself with whatever you brushed against it. I think Zim actually had an understandable reason to be homicidally pissed off for that Bologna assault. Also how the Bologna virus was accelerated in Zim’s body. Once it had incorporated itself into his own DNA, it was game set and match with the speed and help those cells had to replicate themselves.

And uh, yeah, I think this post has gotten about as long as it reasonably should be here. I did have a couple more points I really wanted to get out of my brain about the Almighty Tallest, and I think that would be a good launching point actually for a possible (and hopefully final jfc) part three to this. Till then I got some off-topic scoliids to taxidermy 👀

#invader zim #iz fandom #irkens #xenobiology #iz #scarlet talks about things #long post #we hyperfixating #absolute ramblings i mean holy crap #cool bug facts #sci fi

218 notes · View notes