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#but he’s taking other people out with him
theothin · 2 days
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Copying over my comment from this post since the original now has reblogs turned off:
It's interesting to consider all of this in full context of how Toshiro is framed in the scene. The argument starts with Toshiro insisting that Marcille was wrong to revive Falin with black magic and that she should go back with him to face punishment from elvish society, then get their help in putting Falin to rest. Laios argues that they can actually help Falin, and that eating properly gives them the strength to pull it off, at which point Toshiro tries to shut Laios down by throwing his past frustrations in his face. When Laios eventually overpowers Toshiro, he attributes it to his party taking proper care of themselves, at which point Senshi shows up to offer Toshiro food. Meanwhile, Maizuru expresses frustration at Toshiro's behavior, and when Toshiro talks about his out-of-the-blue proposal to Falin, Mickbell questions why he would do something like that, while Chilchuck remarks that it's the kind of world he lives in. Every part of Toshiro's position here comes across as antithetical to the protagonists and the quest we're following them on. Even other characters present don't seem to think much of his behavior here. And, while playing that antagonistic role, we see him imposing those social standards on someone who finds them confusing and alienating. The result is that the primary lens through which the viewer is encouraged to see the scene is that of an autistic person being berated for not living up to a set of social standards, and in particular not meeting the standards of Japanese society. And while a Japanese audience might find it easier to understand why Toshiro thinks the way he does, the scene is very clear in sending the message that he is wrong and that, as previous comments noted, he's been stuck in a mindset that's hurting both him and Laios. The outcome of the fight suggests that Toshiro would benefit from learning to think more like Laios about food - and I think the audience is also meant to feel that Toshiro would benefit from learning to think more like Laios about people.
And the addition from @delvinanaris:
More than that, Toshiro’s last line of that scene—expressing his envy of Laios—suggests that he, too, feels that he would benefit from learning to think more like Laios about people.
Also here's the original tweet and a great comment on it:
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nkogneatho · 3 days
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𝑶𝑯 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑰𝑮 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 !!
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— old bf!toji x young gf!reader
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i think toji with a girlfriend that is so much younger than him is so adorable.
before you, he was just a man with a small room that is always so messy because he is rarely home. but, the room feels so much like home now that you have entered his life. he's never bothered to decorate or do anything. his heart flutters when he finds several photoframes hanging on the wall. one of you and him, a few of just his and a lot of megumi.
toji has never in his life ever clicked a selfie. he is not photogenic at all. so when you poke him to click one with you, he's not sure what to do in front of a camera. you tell him to just be himself and he is still confused. you lift the phone and make a peace sign with your hand, your teeth peeking out as your lips curve in a smile. you click it quickly and scan the photo. it is cute. you put a heart emoji with a wink one and upload it on your instagram. soon, your phone is buzzing with notifications. you open them and giggle. toji is so curious so he peeks and finds people calling him "the rock". He snatches the phone to scan the selfie you took earlier. you look so adorable with your cute little peace sign and smile and there he was beside you with a brow raised looking angry. "delete that shit right now," he orders. "are you kidding me? this is gold. it's going on the wall." he can't help but grin at how you find such silly things funny.
toji who is getting used to texting and wants to be even closer to you so he tries to learn some slangs. you are out with your friends when your phone chimes. you unlock it to see the text from toji.
toji: kys
you almost spit out the coffee you were enjoying. what the fuck is he on? what happened? you immediately call him.
"hello," his voice raspy.
"tojii! why the fuck would you say something like that to me?"
"what are you talking about?"
"the text you just sent me. why did you send that?"
"because i care for you, doll." you were even more confused now.
"you told me to kill myself because you care for me?"
"kill yourself? who said that? i sent K.Y.S." he spelled each letter out loud. "it means keep yourself safe." it takes you a few seconds to absorb and then you burst out laughing. he is not sure what is so funny.
"oh my poor big baby. kys means kill yourself."
oh. OH.
"i—i am so fucking sorry, princess. i was just—"
"you are so adorable. when i come home, i need to go through your google search history to know what other slangs you learnt." he is so embarrassed, he bites his lower lip. but he is also feeling so warm and fuzzy because you called him adorable. who would call a man in his mid 30s adorable? well, you did. and he is so happy about that. happier that he met you.
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sttoru · 2 days
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for the short drabbleee, toji who realises he's in love mid fuck 😭😭😭
⠀ 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. toji fushiguro x female reader. smut, pwp. slow but rough, creampies, cowgirl, sneaky links to something more? reader gets called ‘baby, princess, pretty’
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“shit baby, look at’cha,” toji sighs as his eyes follow your movements on his cock. you’re hypnotising him with the way you’re bouncing on his thighs, the mixture of cum on his lap making the sounds of your thrusts extremely loud and sloppy.
his big hands rest on your hips and then move up to your waist. toji’s always loved touching your body whenever he could while he has you in his bed. “c’mooon, let me see those pretty eyes.”
you’re moaning at the sound of those praises leaving toji’s lips. he does it subconsciously—telling you how beautiful you look when you take his fat cock. or how gorgeous you are and sound when he’s eating you out.
he brushes the hair out of your face, desperately wanting to admire your beauty. toji doesn’t realise it—everything he says and does comes so naturally to him. he was never like this with the other women he’s slept with before.
“fffmgh, toji,” your noises are what drive him to keep going. toji hates how you have him wrapped around your finger. he’s a sucker for anything you do. and don’t get him started on the amount of times he nearly came into his pants from just the thought of your pretty face underneath him.
perhaps that is what people call love. toji shakes the thought away and focuses on fucking you properly. he grips your hips and lifts them up so he could thrust upwards into you, not wanting to think of such silly things anymore. foolish. there’s no way a man like him can love ever again.
he’s doing this for his own pleasure. not yours.
“toooji, c- can i cum, please? mhh, need’to,”
and yet, here he is, working hard to please you. to hear more of those moans in the shape of his name. to have you come undone in his arms in the most endearing way possible.
your enjoyment is what brings him pleasure. all toji needs is to see your eyes roll back once he sends you over the edge and he’s spilling everything he has inside of you.
toji closes his eyes and tries to drown out the thoughts. he chases after that high, wanting to fill you with his cum for the nth time that night, “not yet, princess. let’s cum together, m’kay?”
those are - once again - words he’s never uttered to any other woman before during sex.
perhaps he is in love. hopelessly in love.
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10 Minutes
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)
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Summary: Bucky is a little desperate for some alone time during one of Stark's parties, and ten minutes is all he needs.
Word Count: 2.2k (no mention of Y/N)
Warnings: Profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), slight exhibitionism (bathroom at a party), MINORS DNI!
A/N: I kinda took a break from writing because I had a lot of unfinished fics, but I'm slowly starting to get back into it. And thank you for 300 followers on here! I can't believe there's that many people of you who actually like my writing :)
Masterlist
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“That’s gotta be what, your sixth drink?” You giggled, watching as Bucky polished off another glass, “don’t you wanna slow it down a little?”
With a smirk, he set the empty crystal on the countertop. “Worried I’ll have too much and do something to embarrass you, sweetheart?”
“You could never embarrass me, James,” you rolled your eyes, “and you also can’t get drunk.”
“S’not gonna stop me from trying,” he grinned, “now come here..”
Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side before you could give an answer. Not that you minded – you didn’t need an excuse to be as close to him as possible. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heavy aftershave that he wore. It was your favourite scent. The musk from it mixed with the spice of the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks. It was intoxication in the best way possible, superseding the several glasses of liquor that you’d consumed yourself.
“There is something else, if you think you can handle it.”
In your own little bubble, it was easy to forget that the two of you weren’t alone. Breaking your gaze away from Bucky, you saw one of your teammates making his way over to you with a delicately engraved bottle in his large hand.
“Hi Thor,” you smiled politely, “what is that?”
He held the bottle up proudly. “Asgardian liquor, the finest brewed there. It puts everything here on Midgard to shame.”
“I bet.” You chuckled.
“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Bucky grinned, stepping away from you momentarily to join Thor and some of the others in a round.
You folded your arms across your chest as you shook your head. The super soldier serum might stop his body from reacting to alcohol in the typical way, but it did have a particular effect on Bucky. You couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to get that little bit more handsy with you. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or maybe that was just an excuse to keep you close to his wandering hands.
Either way, barely twenty minutes had passed before your observation was proven true.
Your shoulder leaned against the back wall as you watched Steve and Tony play pool when Bucky joined you.
“Where’ve you been?” he murmured, “I was looking for you.”
His metal hand drifted up your side, tracing the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath to graze your hip. The metal raised goosebumps on your warm skin, and you shivered further back into his arms.
“Bucky, stop… what if someone sees?” You whispered.
Bucky didn’t ease up, rubbing soft circles on your hip as he drew you in closer. “It’s okay, nobody’s looking at us.”
You glanced around. The loud music masked your hushed whispers, and the addition of Thor’s Asgardian liquor had worked wonders on the team of superheroes. With all of their defences down, no one had noticed the way the pair of you had sidled off to the side.
“We shouldn’t risk it.” You whispered, reaching for his hand and stopping it in its tracks.
“Let’s get out of here, just for a little bit,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your jaw. The gentle ghost of his breathy murmurs in your ear sent your heart racing, “ten minutes, that’s all I need.”
“Are you really suggesting that we hook up in the middle of the party?” Your head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
“Why not?” Bucky pouted. His lips looked so damn kissable when he did that. The thought of giving in, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in a frantic need to satisfy the urge that you were starting to feel right now was starting to not seem like such a bad idea.
“Because…” Your voice trailed off in search of a compelling reason. Even the slightly hint of doubt would signal a dead giveaway to Bucky that you were more than willing to give in. And the worst part of it was the stupid grin on his face that told you he knew this too.
“Because?” He taunted, his smirk growing wider.
“Because…” The agitation in your voice grew as you struggled.
Bucky chuckled darkly, letting his right hand meet his other at your waist. He turned you slightly, until your back was against his chest. Grip tightening, he pulled your hips back into his. Pressed flush against him, you became all too aware of the way his tight, muscular body felt against yours. And that wasn’t the only thing.
“Bucky, are you-“
“Painfully.” He whispered, leaving another soft kiss just below your ear. Your head fell back to rest against his shoulder. Lips parting, a quiet whimper escaped from them. Bucky  tucked a curl behind your ear to lean in better, “What was that that I just heard, hm? You can resist all you like, doll. But your body’s betraying you.”
He was right of course, but you bit your bottom lip anyway in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting another sound slip. The more you tried to hide your growing desires, the more Bucky persisted. His hand slid down your hip to the hem of your skirt. He played with the material, gently grazing his fingers across the back of your thigh that was now exposed to him. Instinctively, your legs clenched as he dared to venture higher.
Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Bite your lip all you want. But what are you gonna do when you start to soak through your underwear and all over that pretty outfit of yours?”
Your face burned red as your gaze immediately fell downwards. Searching the front of your dress as discreetly as you could, your shoulders relaxed when you found that you hadn’t. But your reaction alone was enough to let Bucky know that you considered it a real possibility.
“Did I have you worried there for a second?” he mocked, “You know I’m right. Come on… ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes.” You said through gritted teeth.
“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, gripping your hand and pulling you out of the room.
It was a wonder that you made it to the bathroom at all. His hands were everywhere. Running through your hair, on your waist, cupping your cheek. But yours were the same, only pulling away just long enough to fumble with the bathroom door. It pushed open, and you both crashed through.
With a hand on his chest, you pushed him back to lean on the door. His eyes widened in at your sudden control, but who was he to stop you? Ripping the hand towel down off the rail by the sink, he dropped it to the floor to cushion you as you sank to your knees in front of him. You toyed with the zipper of his jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down in one as you pressed soft kisses to each inch of his bare skin that you exposed.
Bucky let out a tormented groan from the back of his throat as your tongue teased up to the head of his cock. He looked down at you and nearly buckled at the sight. Your hand gripping his thigh, hair messy and lipstick smudged. He watched your wet lips twist into a soft smirk that was so close to wrapping around him.
“When you said painfully, I had no idea this is what I’d done to you.” You cooed, innocently sliding your palm up and down his length.
Bucky hissed at the sensation and reached out to tilt your face up to look at him. His fingers were firm on your cheeks. “We’re down to nine minutes. You gonna keep talking with that sweet mouth, doll, or do you want to put it to good use?”
He didn’t have to ask twice. His tip grazed the back of your throat in one smooth motion. But you didn’t let it rest. You moved your head back and forth, letting your tongue trace over every vein. Bucky’s hand slid up from your jaw to cup your cheek, pulling you further around him as he met your movements with shallow thrusts. His view of you faded as his eyes squeezed shut, revelling in the overwhelming pleasure you were bringing him. The two of you might’ve set a time limit on this brief rendezvous but fuck he could let you go on like this forever.
Head falling back against the door with a soft thud, he growled. The animalistic sound ripped through his gritted teeth as he tugged your head back and off him. Pre cum lingered on your lips as you licked them clean.
Reaching for your hands he helped you to your feet and wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He walked you backwards until your bumped into the sink. Reaching for your thighs, he lifted you up to rest on the countertop. Your skirt slipped and bunched up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in, nudging himself between your legs. Gentle whines slipped out from your trembling lips as he brushed over your wetness.
“Bucky…” You begged softly.
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, sliding your underwear over to one side, “seven minutes.”
Bucky pushed his hips forward to meet yours, burying himself completely in you. His head dropped to the crook of your shoulder and his lips met your neck. Your arms curled around his broad back, scrunching up the material of his shirt as you clung desperately to him. Soft grunts from him reverberated up into your ear as he pulled out of you only to get sucked right back in by your tight cunt. With one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the sink, he kept you in position to take it all. Every stroke inside of you had you clenching down around him. His knuckles turned white as his fingertips pressed harder into your skin with each sharp thrust.
“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you with all our friends in the next room,” he muttered between delicate nips at the skin just below your ear, “and you had the nerve to act like you didn’t want this just as much as I did.”
Your hands moved up through his hair and down to the sides of his face as you leaned in, lips met his in a needy fashion. The kiss that followed was all-consuming, swallowing any quiet moans that might give the pair of you away. But shallow breaths slipped out here and there as Bucky rolled his tongue over yours in passionate frenzy.
He pulled on your hip until your body slipped closer to the edge of the sink, and you let out a small gasp. As Bucky’s lips parted from yours, he smirked at the fucked-out haze that glazed over your eyes as his cock rutted up deeper inside of you. As he quickened the twitch of his hips, your thighs tightened around his waist.
“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to pull out, doll.” He grunted softly.
Your brows furrowed as your head leaned back in a wave of pleasure. You weren’t listening to a damn word he was saying right now. Bucky’s hand left your hip briefly to tilt your head back to him.
“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up and fuck it back into you hard enough that it doesn’t leak out for everyone to see?”
Too out of it to verbally respond, your thighs gave him a light squeeze and answered for you. Bucky’s hand let go of your face and reaffirmed its position on your hip as he then set a ruthless pace. Your head slipped forwards to rest on his shoulder. Burying your face in the crook of his collarbone, your moans vibrated against his throat, driving him crazy. You let your body go limp in his hands as he worked to bring you both a release that the pair of you desperately craved.
Two more thrusts was all it took to bring you both over that delicious edge. His metal hand nearly snapped a porcelain chunk out of the counter with how hard he was gripping it when he came. But you were only the same, with your thighs shaking and breathing heavy. You fluttered around him with every beat of your heart, squeezing every drop of come out of his cock that he had to give you. He lazily rocked his hips a couple more times, coating every inch inside of you.
Bucky’s hands released your body from his tight grip as he gently brushed strand of messy hair out of your face, but he kept himself seated.
“You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.” He breathed.
Your pink cheeks pinched into a soft smile. “Maybe it was.”
“Maybe, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, not hesitating to lean into your neck.
“What are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his gentle kisses.
“What? I’ve still got one minute left.” He grinned playfully, trailing kisses up your cheek now as well.
“Bucky.” You whined, feeling his cock teasingly plunge deeper inside of you. Your sensitive body could barely handle any more.
“Fine,” he smirked, and slowly eased himself out of you, “but when this party’s over, I’m done holding back.”
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tofixtheshadows · 2 days
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You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.
The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.
For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.
I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.
Like, this
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is funny.
But this?
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Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.
The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.
I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:
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Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.
And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.
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I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.
His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.
Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.
When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.
One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.
In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.
He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.
That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.
Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.
Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.
I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.
I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.
I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.
However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.
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hedgehog-moss · 2 days
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The blueberry tart moral quandary has been very fun to ponder! Thank you for sharing it with us. I think the real question, however, is what each of your animals would think about ordering two slices of tart under the circumstances
You're right, that IS the true question here. Let's situate this in a universe where blueberry tart is safe & delicious to eat for all animal species.
CHICKENS. The chickens would definitely want that second helping of tart because chickens live in a solipsistic moral universe and would hesitate to share tart even if it was their dying sister's last wish. However if you place two slices of tart on the ground for 2 chickens, they will immediately and violently start fighting each other over the same slice, thus giving you the opportunity to discreetly retrieve the first slice for yourself. Moreover, if a chicken manages to break off half of the slice and starts running like hell to go eat it elsewhere in peace, the other chicken will take off after her instead of eating the other half happily by herself. If they then break this half in two while fighting over it, they will resume fighting over that half of the half, allowing you to retrieve 3/4 of the second slice. And so on. This is Zeno's paradox applied to chickens and tart: the hens will spend the rest of eternity fighting over diminishing crumbs while you get almost all of the second slice back (albeit broken in increasingly minuscule halves.)
CATS. Not only would the cats want that second slice regardless of who else wants it, they would also sit & start grooming themselves on the rest of the pie with great serenity, rendering it inedible for anyone else. However, my original post established that the pies were under large bell jars. Two of my three cats are (to their everlasting torment) stymied by this sadistic human invention. If the bell jar is heavy enough that you can't push it off the table (a popular strategy), then Mascarille and Merricat will just circle it a few times, ram their faces into the glass, do a full body swipe against it in case this might open a secret door, and then walk away in frustration. Morille on the other hand is a cat possessed of extreme patience, diabolical intelligence and acute interest in forbidden food. She will get the tart no matter how long she has to lie in wait.
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DOG. Pandolf would not want a second slice or even a first one, if he is made to understand that this might make other people sad. The thing with Pandolf is, he can smell disappointment. His great big nose picks up on every particle of human disappointment in the air and they go straight to his heart. He is also too polite to even defend his bone from thieving chickens. There's no way he would claim any tart at all unless someone gave it to him and made it clear they would be happy for him to eat it. However Pandolf is very cute when he sits there with a lolling tongue, happy for others to have a good time, and there is also no way one or several persons wouldn't give him their slice of tart. He would definitely end up with tart.
LLAMAS. Pampelune is the matriarch and since her duties involve dying to protect her herd in case of predator attacks, she considers it her prerogative to eat first and as much as she damn pleases in compensation. She would get two slices. I believe Poldine would choose to have only one slice and kiss everyone in the restaurant on the cheek for good measure, and I also believe she would actually get zero tart. As shown in the salt video, Poldine understands her place in the pasture hierarchy (the one who eats last) and has to resort to subterfuge to get even 1 lick of salt while others are gorging themselves. She will be very dependent on other people's temperance and decency to get any tart (so, Pandolf is her best bet.) Meanwhile Pampérigouste is trying to figure out how to escape the restaurant undetected to go on an adventure while the sheeple are talking about tart. She will get one or two or three slices but only if they can facilitate her various stratagems (for example, to bribe a guard at the door.)
The FISH—do not have the cognitive abilities to worry about morals but more importantly, do not experience soul-deep desires in the way the birds and mammals in this list do. My fish live in a smooth and quiet world where the gods make food rain from the sky every day. In this luminescent existence of untroubled abundance their capacity for longing has atrophied. They do not understand what wanting tart means, let alone the complex philosophical agonies humans can put themselves through when faced with culinary conundrums.
DONKEY. Pirlouit's first instinct would be to claim all the tart he can eat and then some. However donkeys and fish sit at opposite ends of the philosophical spectrum; Pirlouit strikes me as an animal who would be interested in exploring the ethical ramifications of the issue, as an intellectual exercise. 70% of his life consists in quiet deep ponderings. I think Pirlouit could get distracted ruminating the blueberry tart quandary in light of the rich philosophical heritage of donkey civilisation, and arrive too late to get any tart by the time he determined whether one or two slices is the right answer. Kind of like that time he got distracted by his need for revenge and was late for breakfast and the llamas had already claimed the hay.
IN CONCLUSION.
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637 notes · View notes
kingkaizen · 3 days
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𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻
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∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3
∘ ft: nanami & gojo
∘ word count: 2.7k
∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk
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Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.
No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.
But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.
When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”
“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.
“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.
“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”
Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind. 
“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.
“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”
Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?
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“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.
“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.
“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.
That look never came.
“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.
“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”
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The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”. 
“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.
“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.
“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.
“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”
You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.
“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.
“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.
“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip. 
“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.
“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.
“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?” 
No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”
Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are. 
“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight. 
“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”
“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”
“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.
“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”
“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.
You fucking loved it.
You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.
“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.
Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.
“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.
“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.
“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.
“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.
“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.
“Not unless you beg for it.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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ham1lton · 2 days
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MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA
pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.
warnings: misogynistic media and comments.
summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.
author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!
— part of my maneater series ꕤ
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START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)
Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?
user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!
user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭
Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.
user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭
Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.
user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?
user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.
landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT
Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.
landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.
landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?
user7: LMFAOOOOOO
Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.
user8: BOOOOOOOOO
y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.
Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.
landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!
charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔
user6: y’all are MESSY 😭
user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍
georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻
Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.
user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.
user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!
Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!
georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.
user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭
Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?
charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.
georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.
user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!
logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.
Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.
oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰
user9: HELP???
user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!
user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!
Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.
user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.
user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!
user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?
lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.
Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?
lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.
Y/N: what a snitch…
user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭
Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.
youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???
lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.
user7: HELPSOSJSSJ
user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭
Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.
lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.
user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭
Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.
alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT
danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣
user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.
Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-
INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)
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585 notes · View notes
umbershift · 2 days
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Honestly one of the things I like about Edwin’s character development and accepting he likes guys is that everyone else is so normal about it. He’s the only one going But. That’s Not Allowed? And Niko the others are like sure it is! They take Monty liking him as something normal and obvious. Being surrounded by people who take that kind of thing as a given is such a nice (and bizarre) feeling when you’re not used to it
And of course when he tells Charles and there’s no recoil no betrayal just “ok I can’t say I feel the same way but you ARE my best friend and I’m not going anywhere.” The confession didn’t make anything weird. They have as much time as they want to figure this out. I love them so much
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pomefioredove · 3 days
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having a crush on you
summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms
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𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy
he's slowly losing his mind about this
"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind
it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this
hasn't even really thought about it
so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance
and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell
he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"
(maybe a little too well)
but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed
he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs
so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it
in his head
and then does nothing about it for months
...what? he's busy
things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling
well... it doesn't pass
he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt
and you know what?
he is totally cool about it.
just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards
he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up
which again, just makes him crazy
(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)
I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!
there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate
is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...
the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad
he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him
and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves
just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one
(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)
while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you
you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping
you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!
your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it
he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always
but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone
the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else
when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself
why?
he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known
he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all
for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break
(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)
is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.
this is Rook we're talking about
on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute
he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling
seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...
definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room
along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over
(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)
you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often
or a few cans of tuna for Grim
all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference
except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day
Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling
though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy
Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey
and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you
he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard
𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫
first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much
second of all he's going to beg for a chance
maybe not in that exact order
Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal
not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy
suddenly he cares about looking nice
(much to Vil's approval)
and now he wants to do nice things for you?
he's gonna bite you
how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!
don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!
then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.
he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship
...yeah, right? right.
if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...
he might be okay with it!
obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you
starts making comments about how tough practice was on him
will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again
he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)
obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling
(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)
but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess
super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way
504 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 17 hours
Text
a helping hand*
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in which y/n can't orgasm and harry is a helpful ex-friend with benefits.
word count: 3.3k
content warnings: mentions of depression/mental health and anti-depressants, discussions of reduced libido, smut (phone sex, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, description of group sex and mmf threesomes)
this one goes out to all the besties on anti-depressants
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Harry sighs in frustration before crossing his arms over his chest. If he pursed his raspberry lips into a pout, he’d look more like a petulant child than the young adult Y/N’s known for the past few years. With a roll of her eyes, she lifts her glass to her mouth and takes a healthy swig of her coke and rum. She allows herself to scan the interior of the bar — it’s just barely 6 pm on a Wednesday so she’s not surprised that it’s primarily filled with locals and teams of corporate offices decompressing after a long day. 
“I could always make you come when we hooked up and I bet you I could still do it.”
“Christ, Harry, give it a rest,” Y/N replies, narrowing her eyes at the curly haired brunette. “It’s not just with partners, it’s me, too.”
He quirks an eyebrow and settles his elbows on the sticky table. She huffs when she realizes she’s only piqued his attention even more now that she’s revealed another inkling of her… problem. 
“Can you just tell me what’s going on, then? You know, when I texted you for our semiannual catch up, I didn’t think we’d be getting into your sudden inability to orgasm, but—”
“Can you lower your voice?” Y/N hisses with wide eyes. “I didn’t think we would talk about this either but you’re the one who asked if I’m seeing anyone—”
“Yeah, seeing anyone, not coming for anyone—”
“Just shut up!” she mutters, nearly knocking over her almost-finished drink. “If I tell you, you have to drop it.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Harry…”
“As your ex-friend with benefits, I have no duty to keep secrets that aren’t about our bedroom-related rendezvouses.” 
“There hasn’t been a ‘rendezvous’ in five years.”
“There could be.”
She sighs and presses her fingertips to her temples. This is why she and Harry never worked out. They’re total opposites — he has the energy of a rowdy golden retriever and she exudes a calm, monotone nature. (She thinks she’s borderline boring if you ask her, but that’s something she’s been saving for therapy.) 
At parties in college, he was always the one working the room, chatting with everyone while she stood in the corner and clutched her solo cup for dear life. 
He had a million contacts in his phone and people remembered him, even if they knew each other from something as small as working together on a project in a class three semesters ago. 
Meanwhile, Y/N could spend two years straight working in the same office and someone would still ask her when she started working there because she looked “new”.
(Seriously. It happened last month, and she had to rush to the bathroom to cry.)
Despite their opposing personalities, they did work for a while, but only as friends with benefits. To begin with, Y/N never wanted anything more — when they started hooking up, they were nearing their senior year of college, and she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone or anything when making decisions about her future. But secretly, she knew feelings for Harry would inevitably pop up. How could they not? Although he was an annoying ball of energy sometimes, bouncing off the walls of her apartment before they even made it to her bedroom, he was kind. He had a good heart — he still does after all these years, otherwise Y/N would never bother meeting up with him without the intention of hooking up — and he was funny, and he made Y/N feel all warm and gooey inside. He was a good fuck, too, and as much as she wanted to widdle his presence down to being purely physical, she wasn’t strong enough for that. 
She was grateful, albeit heartbroken, when six months after their arrangement began, Harry very sweetly told her he had a crush on a girl in his advanced sculpture class and wanted to go for it. As she swallowed a lump in her throat, she told him that was perfectly fine, that she was glad he told her, and that she hoped things worked out between him and Emily.
(They did. For two and a half years. Y/N had never been so thankful when graduation arrived and she could run as far away as possible from the couple.)
Harry tried his best to keep in touch, even after graduating while he was dating Emily — always commenting on her Instagram posts and responding to her stories, even occasionally texting her to wish her well on her birthday or major holidays. Y/N kept him at an arm’s length for as long as she could. That is, until he moved to her city last year.
The only reason why Y/N had a heads up is because of an Instagram story he posted. In his typical overly excited way, he posted a picture of his dog in his new apartment with one of those tacky, premade location tags. (She’s allowed to think they’re ugly — she’s a graphic designer.) So, it didn’t come as a surprise when a week or two later, a text popped up from an unknown number: Hey Y/N! Not sure if this is still your number or if you still have mine, but it’s Harry :) I just moved to your city and was wondering if we could get together! It would be great to see you.
Thus began the tradition of Harry and Y/N’s semiannual meetups. 
It was an unsaid routine they followed — every six months or so, one of them would text the other for drinks or coffee or lunch. They only ever met up in public and they didn’t talk much outside of their scheduled hangouts, though Harry was much more prone to messaging her stupid memes and, on occasion, a picture of his dog, a husky named Fish. 
Much to Y/N’s dismay, the chemistry between her and Harry was still very much there. It had been apparent from their first meetup last February. It was difficult not to flirt, especially when he brought up their past (she would happily pretend none of it ever happened if it meant Harry Styles never made her blush ever again). The thing is, though, is it was fine as long as nothing ever came of it. 
Until now. 
Because as Y/N sits across from Harry in the worn booth of a dive bar a block away from her apartment, she can’t believe she’s seriously considering letting him back in her bed.
“Can you just tell me what you think the problem is?” Harry asks. He slides his elbow onto the table and presses his knuckles up against his cheek, like they’re best friends giggling over some silly gossip. It makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs.
“It’s a biological issue,” she mutters, “Like I said, nothing you could fix. Even if I wanted you to.”
“Just spit it out, blossom.”
She narrows her eyes, though she finds it difficult to ignore the way her stomach flips at the familiar nickname. “You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”
“Tell me what the issue is and I won’t call you that,” he replies easily. “C’mon, it’s me. Remember all the times I helped you pee when you were too drunk to sit up straight? We’ve definitely seen each other in more embarrassing situations before.”
Y/N sighs loudly. He has a point — there was a time where Harry knew her better than anyone else in the world. And frankly, she hasn’t talked to anyone about her problem. 
Scooching her body forward, she attempts to close most of the gap between them. Harry leans closer and she rolls her eyes. To an outsider's perspective, they probably looked like they were performing some kind of sketchy drug deal or like little girls swapping secrets at a slumber party.
“Remember how I struggled with, um… getting pretty sad?”
Harry’s eyebrows draw together and he nods. 
“Right, so it got… worse when I moved here. And I needed to find help, so I started seeing a psychiatrist who put me on antidepressants. They’ve helped a ton — I feel better, and the depression that I do feel is a lot less intense.”
“That’s great, Y/N,” he says, and she can tell he means it by the genuine tone to his voice. “What does that have to do with you not orgasming, though?”
She swallows tightly. “Well, my doctor increased my medication over the winter, and one of the side effects is…y’know. Decreased libido and whatnot.”
His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah,” she snorts, leaning back against the cracked leather of the seat. “Oh, shit.”
“And you’ve tried vibrators and stuff?”
“Of course I have, I’m not an idiot.”
“So how long has it been?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip as she thinks. Even with flings that she’s had over the past few months, they all gave up at a certain point. The sex was still fun, but she was just the only one who wasn’t coming.
“Well, I can give them to myself if I… work at it,” she mumbles, folding her hands in her lap. “But with a partner? Probably… six months.”
“Six months?!”
The look on Harry’s face is dramatic and theatrical, as if she just told him she was moving halfway across the world and participating in some kind of 90 Day Fiance situation. 
“Shut. Up.” she says through grit teeth, sending him a harsh look. “I don’t need a reminder of how shitty it is.”
“Who the hell are you letting in your bed?” he demands sharply. 
“It can take me an hour, Harry, I don’t expect every person I sleep with to be that patient.”
“They should be, Y/N.”
With a shake of her head, she glances down at her phone on the table. Everything has always seemed so simple for Harry — he’s one of those people where things just come easily for him, no pun intended. A part of her wishes they never delved into the subject matter. Vulnerability somehow always bit her in the ass and this instance was no exception. 
“I’m gonna get going,” she says, pushing her empty glass to the center of the table. “Thank you for the drink, H. It was good to see you.”
His eyes soften as she begins to scooch her way out of the booth. Quickly, he throws a few bills down on the table and gets up to follow her. 
“Can I walk you out, please?” he asks, swallowing as his stomach brims with nerves. She nods, though he’s unsure if it’s a reluctant response. Silently, they leave the bar together, and he nibbles on his bottom lip as she pushes the front door open. The spring air is a welcomed breeze from the sticky interior of the establishment, and she shifts on her feet as she turns around to face him. She parts her lips as if she’s readying herself to bid him a final goodbye, but he beats her to it. 
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he says as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I just meant— like, you deserve better, is all. Someone who will be patient and care to learn your body.”
Y/N nods slowly. “Right. And you’re that person.”
Her tone teeters on mocking and it sends a harsh hit straight to Harry’s chest. He shrugs.
“If you wanted me to be.”
She doesn’t reply to that, but she doesn’t make a move to leave, either. 
“I’ll think about it,” she finally says, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “My hand cramps up when I’ve been at it for too long. Maybe it’ll be nice to have someone else try.”
He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Just let me know and I’m there.”
. . .
A few days later, when Harry is at a friend’s house, he receives a text from Y/N: Are you free right now?
In all honesty, he’s surprised that she’s — assumingly — taking him up on his offer. Y/N remains to be one of the most stubborn people he’s ever known (one time she spent an entire week trying to put together a desk she’d purchased before asking anyone for help. The only reason why Harry was able to do it for her is because she’d called him over for a “destress fuck” and he finished it while she slept). 
He swipes down on her message, his other hand occupied by some shitty IPA Lizzy’s new boyfriend had bought. He keeps asking Harry if he likes it and he has to lie about tasting the hints of citrus, even though it tastes like every other crappy beer he’s consumed. 
At a friend’s house, he quickly types back, Why? Is your hand cramping?
He can basically feel her rolling her eyes as he bites back a smile, watching as the three dots appear to signal her impending response. 
Yes. I was wondering if you wanted to come over.
He’s unsurprised by the casual invitation on a Friday night at 9:40 p.m. (it seems that, as far as hookups go, Y/N hasn’t changed much since college). Nibbling on his bottom lip, he uses his free hand to type a response. 
I’m sorry, I would if I could. I’m trapped at this “apartment-warming” party for my friend. Apparently people host housewarmings even if they’re just renting a new place.
Y/N immediately types back: As much as I’d love to debate that with you, I’m really just looking for an orgasm. So if you’re busy, I’ll go back to buzzing at my numb clit.
Harry snorts at that before placing his beer on a coaster and excusing himself to the bathroom. Once he’s locked the door, he’s quick to pull up Y/N’s contact and press the pad of his thumb to her number. 
“Hello?”
She sounds confused and frustrated when she answers and Harry smirks at that.
“Hey,” he greets, leaning back against the white porcelain sink. “I’m calling about your orgasm.”
“You’re seriously not trying to have phone sex with me right now.” 
Her tone is as deadpan as it gets, and the monotone nature is enough to make a small bit of insecurity crawl into Harry’s stomach. 
“Well, I was planning on talking you through it. ‘S not really phone sex if only one person’s getting off, I think.”
She lets out a noisy sigh and there’s some rustling on the other side. He waits for her response and is surprised when she agrees. 
“Fine,” she huffs, and he can envision the way her eyebrow raises just slightly when she’s decided to give into something, “Let’s give it a try. Porn is getting boring anyway.”
“What were you watching?”
“Well, when you’ve been trying to come for 40 minutes, you end up in some… odd places,” she says. “I started out with lesbian porn, then found my way into threesomes, and somehow I ended up at double penetration.”
“Ah,” Harry nods, “Sounds like you’re having some sort of craving for group sex, then?” 
A pause. And then: “I guess. I’ve never tried it, I just think it’s hot.”
“What’s hot about it for you?”
He thinks he hears her swallow, but he can’t be completely sure. 
“I just like the idea of pleasing more than one person. I think that’s how I got to double penetration stuff.”
“Oh, I see. You want to be used.”
It’s blunt and it’s to the point, but he’s not wrong — he knows he’s not, because he slept with her for six months straight.
“I guess,” she replies non-committedly, “I guess it’s like… a fantasy of getting two people off and them feeling that way because of me. Through oral or… being inside of me, or whatever.”
“So what’s your threesome fantasy, then?” Harry pushes, though his tone teeters are near carelessness at this point, “Girl/boy? Boy/boy? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Who do you want to be between?”
Y/N exhales shakily, “I’ve never thought about it.” 
“Well, now you are.”
She doesn’t immediately reply, but he knows she responds well to the calloused persona he suddenly obtains. She’s always been this way — submissive and good, always looking to please him intimately. It’s too easy for him to put the pieces together and solve the puzzle.
“I guess I like the idea of being with two guys, but it doesn’t matter much to me.” she eventually decides.
“Okay. And in your deepest fantasies, what are these two men doing to you?”
Another pause, though he thinks he hears a shuttered sigh on the line. He doesn’t mention it — not yet at least.
“Maybe… maybe one’s inside of me and the other one’s in my mouth.”
“And how is he fucking you? Is he on top of you, missionary style, or are you on your hands and knees while he fucks you from behind?”
A breathy whimper departs Y/N’s lips and this time it’s loud enough for both of them to hear. He smirks at the sound of it. 
“I like the idea of him behind me. A-and the other one fucking my mouth.”
Harry hums, almost as if he’s praising her. “Close your eyes and envision it, then. Think about how you’re letting two men take advantage of you and use your body, just so they can get off. One’s fucking into you from behind, spanking your ass and grabbing your hips like you’re just some kind of toy to him. And the other one is thrusting deep into your mouth, making you choke, getting you all drooly for him. You’re nothing but a set of holes for them, honey. Isn’t that sweet?”
On the other line, all Harry hears is a series of shattered moans and low curses. Even though it’s been years, he can imagine the way her muscles are all tensed up, her pussy clenching around a dildo or her fingers. He wishes he would’ve asked so he could envision it, too.
“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers out, and Harry palms himself through his trousers at the sound of her high-pitched mewls. 
“There you go, blossom. Atta girl, just let go. ‘S easy, let it go for me,” his voice is a near coo and it makes Y/N’s eyes roll back into her skull. It’s like he knows how easy it is for her brain to ping pong to other far less sexier thoughts — like the dirty plates in the dishwasher or the unfolded laundry in the corner of her bedroom — so he continues crooning through the receiver, his low, soft voice guiding her through every bump and ridge of her impending orgasm. 
When she comes, she comes hard, considering it’s been a solid two weeks since she’s been able to give herself an orgasm. It shoots through her entire body and, even with her eyes shut tight, the fantasy she created still plays through her brain — except now, it’s not two mystery men. Now, it’s just Harry fucking into her, all tan muscles and sweat pearling at his hairline. 
She’s boneless and exhausted when she finishes, her throat dry from the involuntary moans she let go. She only remembers she’s still on the phone with Harry when she hears him clear his throat, followed by a call of her name. 
“Hey, sorry,” she mumbles as her cheeks flush a deep red hue, “T-that was good. Thank you.”
“Yeah? You finished?”
If she had more energy, she would roll her eyes. Of course she finished. The entire neighborhood knows she finished.
“Yeah.” she mutters shortly. “Have a good time at your apartment-warming party.”
Harry huffs a laugh, “Yeah, ‘cos that’s what I’ll be thinking about for the rest of the night.”
She doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before he’s bidding her goodbye: “Let me know when you wanna do this again. I’m around this weekend.”
471 notes · View notes
katszumi · 3 days
Text
part one but can be read as a standalone!
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today’s the day— the six year reunion for all the graduated u.a students. the day bakugou was internally dreading.
he didn’t want to attend, but because of shitty hair, he basically had no other choice. he thought it was stupid, annoying even considering the fact he still works with some of his old classmates.
plus, bakugou was never the type to attend gatherings. he hated the loud noise, busy moving bodies, and the useless small talk people had just to be respectful. none of it was apart of bakugou’s persona, not even his pr managers could change that.
but, he also knows the slight possibility of you being there. he knows someone extended the invite to you, back then every single classmate loved you.
since the night he rudely brushed you off, you haven’t been in contact with him once. his messages still delivered green, and you unable to show on any of his social media. for him, you only existed as a fragment of his memory other than the times you appear on television or the news.
you seemed to be thriving in america. the first year you went, he remembers seeing an article online on how you quickly climbed the ranks in america, the americans instantly adoring everything about you. despite your hero name and quirk, fans began to relate you to a siren, claiming how you were too captivating and powerful to be true. soon, citizens also began to recognize you as the star-spangled siren.
no doubt, bakugou thought it was hilarious. it was something so incredibly stupid. but it was also a reminder that you accomplished your dream. you were a great hero. all of your fears from six years ago were disregarded, and you proved to yourself that you built yourself up by yourself with no support system.
he always knew you were the strongest within the class. maybe that’s why he always felt so weak in front of you. he didn’t stand a chance against you, especially when he finds your figure standing by the bar.
you were messing with your drink, engaging in conversation with mina and ochako. those were the girls always attached at your hip back then.
at first he questions himself whether to squeeze himself in the conversation, or to leave you be. he figured that if you wanted to talk to him then you would’ve reached out years ago.
but before he could act on anything, your gaze meets his. it feels like time on every clock comes to a halt.
he takes in your new differences from the last time he saw you. you grew an inch or two taller, which he found hilarious since you used to pray to be taller. you’re a little more tan; bakugou remembering somewhere in a textbook that the states received more hours of sunlight than japan. you’ve matured more in your face; you were always the girl he found cute. but now, your gazing eyes were more fierce, your pouting lips that he often found himself sneaking glances at were parted, and your newly developed body; your arms were more toned, your body a tad more curvaceous.
enamored wasn’t even the right word to describe bakugou. an understatement even.
it’s all too strange how he felt a pulsation in his chest, his heart hammering from the small moment of eye-contact. he believed that he got over you, coming to terms that there’d never be a chance that you’d talk to him with dancing eyes and a grin on your face like before. but, oh boy, was he wrong.
guilt immersed him. he was angry with himself for treating you like you didn’t matter. everything you said that day, you were right. he didn’t tell you anything related to his emotions, he was avoiding you for weeks, and he was a dick for simply letting you go. he knew all of this, even years ago he realized. bakugou wasn’t the type to go back on his word nor apologize.
but in order for you to talk to him with even a fake smile on your face, he would have to do just that. though, it was you— he wouldn’t mind getting down on both knees, begging for you to forgive him if he had to.
pathetic, bakugou would say, who in their right mind would do something like that? but he would. because six years later, bakugou was still pathetically in love with you.
mina noticed your shift in eye, so she peered over her shoulder, searching the area for what grabbed your attention. it was quick the way she noticed it was him that snatched your breath. her eyes widened for a small moment before turning her head once again.
mina was probably talking shit about him, that was no surprise. even though he and mina got together well, you and mina were attached at the hip; she valued you more than him. he easily read mina’s body language, you must’ve told mina the situation long ago from the way she placed her palm on your arm and rubbed it gently.
unfortunately, he didn’t care if you or mina would be frustrated with his audacity. if anything, everything he was going to do from this point on was because he cared so much about you. so fuckin’ much he’d drain the ocean dry to prove his love to you.
bakugou had only fallen in love twice. once with you and once with a mirror. one, a destructive on-going path without a clear result. one, someone so far-fetched yet still warm and beautiful. someone that eventually in time becomes part of the oxygen he needs to breathe.
the mirror was the first-choice. becoming the number one hero was his only objective, no matter the opportunity cost, he was going to do anything to reach his goal. halfway through, he realized he chose wrong.
there was no point in reaching the goal without you. you were his hands and feet, so why did he expect himself to be okay with the situation he caused?
bakugou hated defeat, he already knows that. but he’d be damned if he allowed you to slip through his fingers once more.
and just like that, his legs are moving towards you and mina. his mind consisted of nothing; he had no words ready for you, no apology prepared. he just sees you and, like always, he needs to be in your vicinity.
as he marches towards you, he realizes that it’s always been like this, him chasing you to his hearts desire. at the beginning, it was a light jog nothing that would cause him to break a sweat. soon it turned into a full-blown sprint, the gap between you and him seeming to increase every day.
before he could muster anything to say, he makes it to you. he keeps his distance from you so you don’t run away, but enough that he can see the pores on your face.
you ogle at him, your face twisted a bit. mostly likely from the surprise of him trudging towards you as if nothing happened. mina rolled her eyes at him as she folded her arms.
“bakugou, don’t be one of those.” mina started.
“one of what?!”
she scoffed. “one of those obsessive guys when they realized they’ve lost a gem because they were stupid as fuck.” mina him a ‘that’s you’ look. “don’t come crawling back now.”
bakugou opened his mouth to object mina, prepared to go off on her. just a week ago, she was chatting it up with him, kirishima, and denki, no animosity found in any of her statements. but since you were here, she supposed she had to play the part as the protective best-friend.
but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.
“it’s fine, mina.”
your voice was still the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. so gentle and euphonious. he wanted to thank the heavens on the earth for allowing him this opportunity again even when he’s a shitty guy. he didn’t deserve you, he knew that, but he couldn’t bypass the overwhelming feeling of yearning you.
he shifted in his position, clearly shocked that you didn’t seem to hate the fact he was standing within your vicinity.
mina also shocked, raised a brow at her best-friend. “you sure babes?” you nodded in response. the pink colored woman leaned into her ear, whispering god-knows what, before walking away with ochako to leave you and him alone.
you faced bakugou fully now, your eyes taking in the subtle distinctions he’s made over the years. bakugou always was one of the strongest in the class, but even now, he developed into a rigorous man. you can tell he’s shaved recently, the small hairs on his chin slowly starting to form. his eyes are more relaxed, seeming more generous.
alike him, you too kept post on bakugou in japan. you’d frequently find yourself searching him on the internet to wonder how he’s doing. just like he told you and everyone else at u.a, he was now the number one hero of japan. he proved to all his doubters that he could do it.
you were proud of him, internally rooting him on from 6,303 miles away. however, externally, you masked a look of resentment for him.
he broke your heart when he pushed you away. you didn’t understand why it was so difficult for him to come clean about things, especially when it came to you.
you had enough of it.
or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, hoping for your heart to believe it as your mind did.
“hi,” you said. he could tell you were nervous from the way your hand slightly trembled. “long time no see.”
bakugou anxiously chuckled, “yeah.” he instinctively ran his fingers through his hair as he swallowed nothing. “look, i’m not even going to waste any time with this. y/n, i am so fuckin’ sorry.” his tone softened, coming from the deepest part of him. you can’t recall a time where his voice ever sounded so tender like this.
“kat—” you started, but he didn’t let you finish.
“no, i mean it. i am sorry for being a coward. i was a fool for treating you like you didn’t matter to me when that wasn’t the case, it was never the case. you were too good for me and that scared me. i’m rough on the outside, i couldn’t imagine savoring someone so mellow. i’m a pathetic asshole, a bitch, a cunt.”
you reached forward to place your hand on his wrist. “don’t say such things about yourself, katsuki. you are not any of those things.”
“don’t be good with me. i don’t deserve to be treated this way. give me the punishment i deserve for causing you anguish.” he begged. unknowingly, his hands slipped into yours. you could feel his sweat accumulate, his shaky hands.
all of this just for you to forgive him. how could you ever despise him when he’s an emotional wreck in the palm of your hands?
“it’s okay, katsuki. i’ve come to forget about it years ago. you’re one of the best things to happen to me during my adolescence. we were young and we both said things we didn’t mean back then.” bakugou looks at you with a pout. “i forgive you.”
you pull bakugou into a hug, wrapping your arms around him. you almost had forgotten how much bigger his figure was compared to yours until he bear-hugs you.
“how long are you staying until you leave for america?” he asks.
“i was going to wait till the end of the night to share this, but i was never one to hold secrets from you.” you released bakugou from the hug, a smile tugging your lips. “i’m coming back to japan.”
“what? but america… why?” he scrambled for words.
you lightly shrugged, “not my kind of place. i also really missed my home.”
“fuckin’ hell,” his words trailed off. bakugou couldn’t imagine the happiness that was coming from him right now. in his mind, he thanked kirishima for dragging him here. “i’m so relieved.”
you laughed, one that bakugou could tell wasn’t fake. he couldn’t help but to smile. he was finally talking to you, the woman he loved, after six long years. he was unsure if he could survive another minute of you ignoring him.
“so, back then, did you?”
“did i what?”
“back then, did you like me? did i really mean something to you?”
bakugou tried to remember if you were ever this dense? what a stupid fuckin’ question, bakugou thinks.
“you were the first person ever to tell me to have desires and to not hold back.” he explains. “did i like you? y/n, i loved you. every part of you, i loved. hell, i still do.” it seemed easier for him to confess, maybe it was from the adrenaline he was feeling in this moment.
but he didn’t care, if anything he was glad. you needed to hear it just as much he needed to admit it to himself.
“then, let’s start over, katsuki. let’s ditch this place, i know you’re not a big fan of parties anyway.”
bakugou knows all too well, he loves it how you remember the smallest parts of him. he loves your consideration and emotional warmth that you’re always quick to offer. even though, the gates were open for you to leave, you stayed.
he knew that his love for you would last a lifetime and would always welcome you with sweet grace and a humble gratitude.
all he can do is nod in response, hoping to suppress his racing heartbeat.
bakugou takes your hand to lead you to the exit of the party. “my job here is done anyway.”
@b134ch-m4h-ey3z @bsallergy
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 days
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Gone
Pairing: Mafia!Max x Wife!Reader
Rating: PG-17
Words: 1.3K
Warnings: Kidnapping, major angst, Mad!Max etc.
Requested: Yes/No
A/N: Soooo I chanaged the request and I apologize for that as I barely changed request but I felt like the children being taken would've fit better. Hope you love it!
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Standing outside the school, you hold your little bump, smiling as you wait for the twins to come running out into your arms. You still can't believe you're wearing heels, but they help you see over some of the other parents, able to see all the babies come running.
Your guards stand on either side, your outfit perfect for the weather, a little blue dress that is flexible with your growing stomach. You see your twin's teacher and wave, wondering where your 5-year-old boys are. "Oh, Mrs. Verstappen, did one of the boys leave something?" Your guard's heads move around the yard quickly, trying to find the boys. "What do you mean, leave something?" You try to clamp down the panic. Maybe they had already rushed out of the building, and you didn't see them, and they're trying to find you.
"Two of your guards came to get them; they left about two hours ago." Taking a deep breath, you feel your world shift hearing that. "No, none of my guards came to get the boys." The teacher's eyes go wide, and you let out a little chuckle. "No, no, they must still be here. FABIAN! CASPER!" Your scream breaks across the yard, parents and children all looking at you as the guards rush around looking for the twins.
"Mrs. Verstappen," The teacher tries to touch you, but you back up, putting a protective arm around your stomach. "No! WHERE ARE MY SONS!"
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Max has never moved so fast in his life, breaking every traffic law, as three huge black SUVs tried to keep up with him, but there was no point. He was driving far too fast for them to keep up. Pulling up to the school, he slams the car in park as hoards of police move around. Getting out of the car, he first clocks your sobs.
"Schat!" Max screams and shoves past the police, crumpling to his knees and holding you close. "Where are my babies? Where are they!" You sob, sitting on one of the benches. Max has you close, trying to keep his anger in check, needing to be there for you.
"Baby, sweet angel, you must calm down. You might hurt the baby. Take deep breaths, please, for me." Max begs, his eyes wide and wild; you nod, trying to calm down as Max's men finally arrive and rush into the school. The police know better than to get in the way.
Taking deep breaths, you shake, Max kissing your hands and all over your face. "We'll find them, I promise to you. I won't come home without our sons," he promises, kissing your wedding ring. Maxie, it's almost time for dinner. They're going to be hungry, tired, and scared." You sob again, Max growling, pulling you into his arms.
"Sir! We found something!" Max turns their head, seeing his men as people still run around and searching the area. "I'll be back, I promise. Take my wife home, now," He snaps, the men nodding as you sob harder, holding one of the twin's jackets. Max stares at the small article of clothing and feels his heart stop. His boys, his soul, and his babies have been taken, and he doesn't know by whom. Or who would be stupid enough to do it?
Throwing the school door open, he breaks the window and splits the wood as he stalks into the office. "There," They point at the computer showing the screen as the two boys walk with the two men, Max noticing the tattoos on their hands. "Goddammit! How the fuck, did you miss having two of our ENEMIES HERE!" Grabbing anything he can reach, he throws it, watching as it shatters to the floor and breathes heavily.
"Find my sons, or else people will start losing their heads. FIND ME BOYS NOW!" Max roars, the men scattering like bugs as he breathes heavily, staring at the frozen image of Fabby laughing while Casper looks scared. "Cassie, Fabby, I'm coming, I swear," Max whispers.
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"Fabby, I'm scared. said Daddy and Mommy here." Casper whimpers as Fabian moves closer to his baby brother, ensuring he is safe. "Don't worry, Daddy come." Fabian knew this wasn't right, and Casper was far more scared and gentler than him. Fabian holds his brother closer, and Casper starts to cry as they sit in the small, cramped, dark room. "Okay, Cassie, okay," Fabian whispers.
They both jump, screaming as they hear loud explosions and screams in Dutch and another random language. "Where. Are. My. Children?" Casper perks up, hearing their daddy's voice. "DADDY!"
Max rips his head to the side and feels his blood run cold, seeing they are inside a box. Running over, he trips as he rips the lead off with his bare hands, blood everywhere, as he looks down at his babies. "Cassie, Fabby," He whispers, and Fabian and Casper look up at him.
"Daddy, uppie!" Cassie whispers, holding his arms out; Max throws his gun away and grabs the boys, lifting them out and holding them close to his chest. Sliding down, he starts to cry, having been so terrified. "Daddy, I stayed strong for Cassie," Fabian whispers, his bottom lip jutting. Max sniffles, crying as he covers Fabby in kisses as Casper, sweet little Cassie, finally being safe, sleeps in his father's arms.
"You're so brave, my strong little cub." Max sobs and Fabian finally starts to cry. "Daddy, home." Max nods, standing on shaking legs, running on pure terror and adrenaline.
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"Casper! Fabian!" You cry as Max enters the house holding the boys. "Mommy! Hungry!" Caspian laughs, and you sob, seeing they are okay as Max sits them down. They come running into your arms. "Are you and the baby okay?" Max whispers, sitting on the floor with you as the boys cuddle into your arms. We're okay now." Max nods and pulls you three into his arms.
You don't ask him about the tear stains, nor do you question the blood all over him either. "They're not going back to that school," Max makes a face, and you sigh as Casper and Fabby start to fight. "Yeah, it might've burned down," You can't help the wet chuckle that leaves your throat as you cuddle closer to your husband. Max sighs, "We need to go to bed," Max whispers, taking Casper, who giggles and snuggles into Max while Fabian gets sleepy in your hold. 
Nodding, you take the boys to the bathroom, running a bath as the house crawls with guards. "We're never leaving them," You whimper as you help them undress. Max nods. He'd been scared before, but this terror he felt when he got the phone call stopped his world. Max couldn't breathe; he was terrified in a way he never wanted to feel again. The boys giggle and play in the bath as you stare at his hands. "They're fine, just some cuts." He explains, and you grab his hands, kissing them gently. 
"Thank you, thank you for bringing our boys home." Max looks down and pulls you into his chest. "I'll always bring them home," Caspier yawns loudly, and you smile, both of you picking a twin up and getting them dressed in their favorite PJs. "Want to sleep with Mommy and Daddy?" Max asks; even if they said no, he wasn't going to allow it; he couldn't let them out his sight, terrified he'd wake up, and they'd still be gone. 
"Yes!" They both giggle, and Max gently tosses them onto the bed as you climb in, wearing one of his shirts, Max. He undresses and cleans himself up as he stops and stares at Fabby curled on your chest practically, sleeping, and Cassie is sitting up, trying his hardest to stay awake. "Cuddles, Daddy." Max smiles softly, climbs into the bed, and pulls Cassie, you, and Fabian close, kissing each of you. Max takes a deep breath and sighs, closing his eyes as he listens to the soft breathing of his babies. 
They were okay. 
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kenntolog · 2 days
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𝝑𝝔 an: so i got like 3 requests ab jealous cool bf sukuna x loser gf dynamic but i won’t be able to tag em since you know they were sadly anonymous. i decided to combine them into 1 fic hehe, hope you guys like it!! read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!
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cool boyfriend sukuna doesn’t get jealous, alright? he is not insecure or anything like that, he trusts you and you trust him so it doesn’t matter to him if someone tries to woo you or something. but you can be a little dense sometimes since you haven’t experienced a lot of the things people usually do in their teens.
still, he likes to think that you’d be smart enough to reject anyone who tries to make their advances toward you, albeit he is sure if you do it will be in a very polite and a sweet way, much to his dismay. but it’s just the way you are and sukuna loves his loser girlfriend.
but he doesn’t know what’s going on through your mind when this happens;
“do you wanna maybe go out tomorrow?” some guy from your class asks you, a nervous smile as he awaits your answer. you continue collecting your things into your bag and look up at him with a small smile, naively thinking he wants to study or talk about your shared classes.
“sure!” you chirp and then briefly glance at the door of the room only to find your boyfriend standing there, hands in his pockets and a deep frown on his face as he stares at you two.
the guy in front of you almost jumps in excitement from your answer, stuttering out that he will text you later and leaving the room.
“what did that nerd want?” sukuna asks you as soon as you exit the class, his arm taking it’s usual spot on your shoulders.
“oh, nothing much, just asked if i wanna go out tomorrow.”
at that, sukuna’s steps come to a halt as he squints at you with a confused look. “and you said..?”
“i said ‘sure’.”
he exhales deeply before hits the back of your head with a disgusted look on his face, ignoring the way you stare at him in bewilderment, hands flying to rub the spot. but he doesn’t give you time to process anything, tugging you into one of the empty classes and locking the door.
“sit.” sukuna orders, leaving no room for complaint as he lifts you up to sit on one of the desk, planting his hands beside your thighs on the surface as he breathes heavily.
“‘kuna..?” you ask, unsure if you should even say anything while he’s angry at you.
“are you dumb?”
you pout, brows pinching together as you look up at him in genuine confusion, “why?”
“the dipshit asked you out and you said ‘sure’?”
“we were just talking about the lecture so i thought he wanted to study together.” you look down at your lap, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt nervously. “i didn’t realise he meant it like that.”
as mad as sukuna is, he can’t resist that sad little pout on your face; the way your eyes get all wide and bottom lips juts out defensively, cheeks puffing a little. and he is sure you’re not lying to him because he knows you.
he moves away from you, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts and calm down.
“are you mad at me, ryo?” you ask innocently, hand instinctively finding his to tug at his fingers so he doesn’t move too far, although a bit unsurely. “‘m sorry.”
“i’m not mad.” sukuna intertwines your fingers, pulling you into himself gently. his other hand suddenly finds your face, squishing your cheeks together roughly as he shakes your head from side to side with a sinister smirk. “pull shit like that again and i’ll kill ya.”
“ow, ow— sukuna!” you whine, trying to peel his hand of your face, but he doesn’t let go until he kisses your plumped lips a couple of times. “you’re so jealous!”
that wipes the smirk off his face very quickly.
“i’m not, loser.”
you poke his cheek with a bright beam on your lips, “you are, heh.”
“gettin’ cocky, aren’t you?” he pushes your face away with his palm and steps away from you, leaving you to trail after himself with small giggles escaping you.
suddenly sukuna smirks, his arm around your shoulders tightening it’s hold, “i’ll still beat the shit out of him tho.”
“sukuna, no!”
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cherryredstars · 3 days
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Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink
A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!
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You know there is a process.
And you know this isn't it.
There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.
And yet...
You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.
But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.
You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.
Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.
He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.
You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.
"Got to make sure it takes."
Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?
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