#HE ALSO SAID HE CAN SEE HOW MUCH I IMPROVED ALREADY

[stillness-in-green]

Some thoughts on The Discourse about the last BNHA cover

(Note: This Discourse was on Twitter. I don’t know how much of this may have been said here on Tumblr, so consider this either my contribution or just me reporting back on drama from other fronts.)

So, I saw a lot of back and forth over there between people who didn’t like the cover and people who did, and I spent a little while mulling it over. It seemed to me that the people who didn’t like it had a good point, but one they were not articulating particularly well, possibly thanks to the character limit and possibly also because the people talking about it tended to phrase their objections in sarcastic, consciously exaggerated terms because that’s the language months and months of dealing with the truly insufferable Horikoshi Defense Squad on Twitter primed them to use.

So what is the point?  Basically this: In going for the lazy/easy callback in both the cover design and Dai (plate-hair kid)'s role in the final chapter more generally, Horikoshi landed on an "everything comes full circle" ending when what the story desperately needed was an indicator of change.

We didn't need to know that a kid with low self-confidence and nothing to speak of in the quirk department can still become a Pro Hero if he[1] wants to.  We already knew that because it's what the whole story of BNHA was about!  Deku passing the torch/paying it forward is nice if all you care about is Deku's personal arc, but it's sheer reductiveness if you care about literally anything else.  If there was going to be a kid getting Deku's encouragement and help at the end, if that's the ending Hori was absolutely set on, it shouldn't have been the Deku Redux kid; it shouldn't have been the weak kid who has already been metaphorically proven capable of becoming a Hero.

1: And of course it would be a boy.

It should have been the troubled kid, the one from the bad family situation, the one who isn't sure whether he even believes in this Hero thing.  It should have been the kid who, if nothing about Hero Society had changed, would’ve been rejected by the whole corrupt system—in so many words, the Tenko Redux kid.  That's the one who we saw could not become a Hero under the previous system.  That's who we needed to demonstrate the system's improvement.

Instead, all we get is Deku helping himself.  And it fits, I guess, because “himself” is the only sort of person Deku ever wanted to save anyway—remember that in the very first chapter, Deku tells All Might that he wants to be a Hero because he was never “saved” as a kid and so he thinks saving is the coolest thing ever.  Implicitly, then, Deku wanted to be the kind of Hero who could have saved the kid he was, and that tendency to reserve his compassion for people he can recognize himself in—the crying children and the Hero wannabes—is consistent throughout the series.  Dai, then, simply becomes the very last of these examples, the chance for Deku to tell his middle school self that he, too, can be a great Hero.

And that’s quite a choice, isn’t it?  Take a second to consider the implications there. The metaphorical parallel Deku helps is his middle school self, not his childhood self—there’s no evidence that Dai was bullied on the same level young Izuku was, and we sure didn’t see anyone telling him to jump off a roof.  So, who does save those children, then, in this grand, improved version of Hero Society?  Does anyone?

Well, not really. Not that we’re shown. Indeed, the child who was the closest analogue to young Izuku—a weak and seemingly quirkless boy who stuck his neck out for other rejected children, who still stubbornly wanted to be a Hero despite a parent's disapproval—was Tenko, and Deku pointedly did not save him.

To be clear, I don’t mean that just in the sense that Deku failed to save the adult Tenko became, but even in the emotional sense that the series clearly wants me to believe Deku succeeded at, the saving of the boy's heart? I don’t think Deku even managed that.  Sure, he might have protected the echo of that child from a few memories, might have held his hands for a few exchanges of dialogue, but then the boy transformed back into the form of the Villain he'd become and was swallowed down the spiritual maw of the man from whom society failed to save Tenko to begin with! And what was Deku doing as this happened? Absolutely nothing but yelling impotently as he got blown backward and out of the mindscape.

Imagine that Deku had found some way to cheer up Izumi Kouta only for Muscular to kill the kid thirty seconds later.  No one would be saying, “I think Deku still saved him—his heart, anyway,” if Deku got Kouta to smile and admit that Heroes were actually pretty cool only to do nothing but scream helplessly as he watched Muscular pulverize Kouta’s ribcage with one gentle squeeze.[2]

2: Mind you, this comparison is flawed!  Unlike AFO’s vestige, Muscular doesn’t turn up to kill a child as a direct result of Deku’s own actions. Also unlike the events of the final battle, Deku doesn't jump up and personally administer the killing blow to the still-screaming victim, either.

It just leaves me thinking about some of the stuff @codenamesazanka has said about how the narrative treats Shigaraki and Deku helping him: not as something Deku has a duty to do, not something Hero Society on the whole owes Shigaraki (and all the other metaphorical expy/future Shigarakis), but rather a bonus, a nice extra, a demonstration to shine up Deku's Hero cred because he's making efforts no one else would bother with and that no one would reasonably expect him to make. It's not Deku’s job to save the Tenkos or the young Izukus of the world; apparently that just falls to society at large.

So then, what was the point of making Tenko/Tomura such an extreme case of someone who started in a similar place to Deku?  Why make him, also, a weak kid who was told he couldn't be a Hero, if you're not going to have Deku save him in the way no one saved Deku himself?

From where I'm sitting, the answer is, "It seemed like a good idea to Horikoshi at the time, but proved to be poorly thought out."  But if Deku failing to save his own closest childhood analogue was where the story was going the whole time, then Shigaraki should never have been used to parallel Deku to begin with.  It's just a damned waste of Shigaraki as a character, an insult to everything he represented, to use him for ~the parallels~ throughout the entirety of the story except the very beginning and the very end.

Anyway, Pro Heroes are bullshit and the ending should have been them being radically reconceived from the ground up with input from all the people they failed to save.  But again, if you have to still have Heroes-qua-Heroes at the end, and you have to have some stupid thematic echo because you as an author think callbacks are the single most compelling storytelling tool of all time, then everything we got on Dai should have been for Scissors-kun instead, and here I am very much including Dai's scene before the first war. An unsettling scene of a strange child with his mouth sewn shut, stuck in a straitjacket in a dark room should have been the last thing we saw before launching into the day of the raids, an apparent element for the future in the same way that so many future Villains were first shown in the wake of Stain's arrest.

See, Shigaraki’s own destructiveness is what ultimately frees Scissors-kun from the basement, “saving” this rejected, abused child in a way no Hero ever managed or even knew to try, just as Shigaraki brought light and a strange sort of hope to the lives of so many others whom Heroes failed.  However, Shigaraki couldn't carry his ambitions through to the end. He was never able to meet the kid he indirectly saved, never able to offer that appallingly abused victim an avenue for his signature brand of rough justice. Heroes stopped him from doing so. So then, who will help Scissors-kun?

If we’re to believe that the story's protagonist has made a real difference, that Deku and his classmates have changed the world for the better, then we don't need to see them helping a kid who we already know is going to turn out fine because “he” aleady did. We need to see them help the people that previously only Villains would have helped, picking up the torch they struck from Shigaraki’s hands.

So sure, keep the scene with Granny Evil and Scissors-kun if you must, to show that it’s not only Heroes but also the broader Hero Society that’s changed. After that, though, show Deku stepping in.  Show him taking an interest in this kid as a way to keep his promises—to Shigaraki, that the rejection and obliviousness that he sought to destroy have indeed been destroyed and will remain so, and to Spinner, that Deku will remember Shigaraki for the rest of his life. 

When Deku is older and in a position to give advice to a kid who’s floundering and uncertain of what to do with his life because of what people around him say about him, make that character echo the characters the old system failed to save, not the character who the entire story proved would do just fine.

For god's sake, ditch Deku Redux.

Now, I know the obvious rejoinder here: We can’t use Deku’s story to say that BNHA already showed us that Dai would be fine because Dai has a quirk where Deku did not, therefore Deku’s path would not be open to Dai.  To this, I would reply that neither Deku nor Dai specify that Dai wants/is able to be a top Hero, merely that he be the kind of Hero people can admire—which the story has also already proven true!

Ojiro got into UA with nothing but one (1) extra limb.

Manual has a perfectly middling quirk that turned out to be absolutely crucial in two different wars because it was the right quirk at the right time.

Wash’s quirk makes strong bubbles. 

Like, this list is not short.  Manifest Plates might or might not make Dai Hero Billboard material, but one of the major points of the endgame was the sublime and noble value of helping when you can, in the way that you can.  So to reiterate, we didn’t need that to be proven again in the epilogue.

If anything, going the route of retreading the same story makes the epilogue much worse! Not only do we not get to see how this society is helping the people the old society most profoundly failed—victims who fall through the cracks and become Villains—but in seeing yet another a weak kid being mocked for his heroic aspirations, we find that we’ve barely moved a step beyond the exact same place we started.

That’s the message Horikoshi chose to go with, for both the closing chapters of the story and the story’s final volume cover.  Truly, as art that summarizes the story goes, it’s a masterful choice!  And that's the whole problem. The cover of Volume 42 is a perfect illustration of the self-absorbed, cynical, cyclical nature of BNHA's endgame. Little wonder, then, that it's hated by the same people who hated said endgame.

[insidekatmind]

Meet my sister P.4-Jude Bellingham

Part.1,Part.2,Part.3

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

The following day, Federico had arranged a special lunch with Jude, Kylian, Vinicius, and, of course, his sister Y/N. Despite the palpable tension between Jude and Y/N, Federico hoped the situation wouldn’t escalate and that everything would go smoothly. He knew how complicated both of their personalities were, and he didn’t want his lunch to end with another argument between them.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Y/N was already there, sitting at the table with a radiant smile, completely unaware of Federico’s concerns. She wore an elegant dress that seemed to fit her style perfectly, her brown hair falling softly around her shoulders. There was something in her demeanor that immediately caught attention, but today she seemed calmer than usual, as if she had decided to take a step back.

Federico approached Jude before he sat down.

"Please, Jude," he said in a serious tone, "try not to argue with Y/N today. I know you two don’t like each other, but let’s try not to ruin everything. It’s important to me that you both behave civilly, at least today."

Jude looked at him, his eyes showing slight irritation. "Don’t worry, I’m not here to fight," he replied sharply. "I’ll try to hold my tongue." But there was no promise in his gaze, only a silent challenge, as if the thought of Y/N was always there, ready to make him react.

Kylian and Vinicius sat down at the table, both smiling, aware of the tense atmosphere but ready to have fun despite it all. The tension between Jude and Y/N didn’t go unnoticed, but Federico hoped that with time things might improve, at least during lunch.

Y/N gestured for you to sit next to her, her curious gaze watching you as you took your seat. A faint smile spread across her face, but there was nothing hostile about it. "I hope you’ve eaten, Jude," she said, her tone sarcastic as always. "I wouldn’t want you to get upset if my order is better than yours."

Jude, who had now taken his seat, slowly turned toward her, trying to keep control. "I’m not going to get upset over something like that," he replied with a sly smile, "but I hope you don’t actually believe your order is better than mine."

Federico sighed, looking between the two of them. The atmosphere seemed charged with almost palpable tension. But, maybe, a little irony and a teasing smile would manage to keep things at least somewhat calm.

---

The lunch continued with an atmosphere charged with tension, but also a certain electricity hanging between you and Jude. Both of you challenged each other with your looks, almost as if it were a game, but while he seemed more serious, you were visibly more entertained by the situation. You couldn't help teasing him, enjoying how he reacted to each of your moves.

When Vinicius started making some jokes, you, without thinking too much, leaned toward him, responding with a light laugh and flirting a bit with his natural charm. "You know, Vinicius," you said with a mischievous smile, "I'd love to see how you move on the dance floor. I see you're good at making girls' heads turn."

Vinicius, always smiling, seemed to appreciate your playful attitude. "Well, Y/N, if you'd like, we can go for a spin once we're done here," he replied, giving you a look that left little room for interpretation.

Jude, who had been watching from a distance, couldn't help but clench his teeth and shoot you a dirty look filled with annoyance and jealousy. Every word that came out of your mouth seemed like a little provocation towards him. There was no doubt you were enjoying making him angry. His expression became harder, but you kept smiling, enjoying the moment.

"I thought you'd be more interested in what's on your plate, Jude," you said, giving him a mischievous glance. "But I see you're distracted." Your voice almost sounded like a challenge, as if you really wanted to test him and see how far he'd go.

Jude stared at you, his look now completely different, darker, and more determined. The annoyance he felt mixed with something deeper, but he would never admit that he found you intriguing. "I don’t get how you manage to do all this without losing control," he muttered, his voice sharp.

Meanwhile, Vinicius, who didn't seem to want to miss the chance to keep the atmosphere light, laughed heartily and got involved in the conversation. "I think Y/N knows how to have fun," he said, looking at you with a knowing smile.

But Jude didn’t seem amused at all; in fact, his face had grown serious. He continued staring at you with a look that, despite trying to appear indifferent, betrayed a hint of frustration.

Federico, sitting next to you, quickly glanced between the two of you, hoping the situation wouldn’t get out of hand. But it was clear now: the challenge between you and Jude was just beginning, and the tension was only going to grow.

---

The tension between you and Jude continued to grow visibly, and soon, the words began to get harsher. While Vinicius and Kylian spoke to each other, trying to lighten the mood with jokes and laughter, you and Jude couldn't hide the irritation you felt for one another any longer.

"What's wrong with you?" Jude suddenly snapped, his tone full of frustration. "Every time I open my mouth, it seems like you have something to say back, don’t you realize how annoying that is?"

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his reaction, but without stopping to keep it intimate and provocative. "Oh, really?" you replied, pretending to be surprised. "It doesn’t seem like you’re suffering that much. In fact, it seems like you kind of like it, considering you can’t stop looking at me."

Jude gritted his teeth, his gaze now burning with anger. He couldn’t understand how you could drive him crazy so easily, but a part of him couldn’t look away from you, despite everything. "You like testing me, don’t you? You thought I’d let some kind words slip out, maybe?" he retorted, his sarcasm sharp.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I do," you responded with a mocking smile. "I enjoy seeing how you react. It's almost funny, if you think about it."

Federico, who had been trying to stay calm until then, looked around and saw that things were getting out of hand. "Hey, enough!" he intervened, trying to lower the tension. "Please, don’t start fighting now. I’m trying to keep this a civil dinner."

But you didn’t stop. Your provocative spirit was too strong, and his behavior annoyed you even more. "But you don’t really want to listen, do you?" you shot back at Jude. "Because if you don’t like me making you lose your patience, maybe you should look for someone who stays quiet. And I don’t think that’s me."

Jude slammed his fist on the table, his face darker than ever. "You have no idea how badly you’re making me want to completely ignore you," he said, his voice trembling with repressed anger. "But I know that's exactly what you want, right? You want to drive me crazy. Don’t think you’ll win with me."

"We’re already in the game, Jude," you replied, your voice deeper and sharper. "And I can see you like playing, at least a little."

Federico ran a hand over his forehead, feeling his heart race. He didn’t want everything to end like this, but it was clear that your battle with Jude had just begun. What was supposed to be a calm dinner was turning into a real battleground.

---

When they left the restaurant, the atmosphere was still tense, and despite Federico's attempts to keep the peace, the argument between you and Jude had left its mark. The guys parted ways, heading to their cars to go to training, but the heavy silence that followed was yet another sign that the tension hadn't subsided.

Federico, who could no longer stand the constant hostility between you and Jude, finally exploded. He approached Jude with determined steps, stopping him before he could get into the car. "I can't take it anymore, watching how you behave with her!" Federico burst out, his voice full of frustration. "Every time you two cross paths, it's the same story! I'm asking you to calm down, to stop fighting with her, and all you do is provoke her!"

Jude, who until that moment had tried to keep a facade of indifference, couldn't help but react. "It's not like you think, Federico," he replied, trying to sound calm, but his voice betrayed a defensive tone. "I don't want to argue with her, it's just that... she's unbearable! Every time I open my mouth, she answers like she's trying to challenge me, and you don’t understand how hard it is to stay calm with someone like her."

Federico looked at him, his eyes full of disappointment. "You don't get her, Jude. She's just a bit... different. She's an exuberant person, always ready to throw out a challenge, but that doesn't mean you should treat her like an enemy. I know her well, and I assure you, beneath all that attitude, there's just a strong personality. She's not trying to wage war on you."

Jude sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, trying to contain the anger that continued to burn inside him. "She's driving me crazy, Federico," he admitted, looking at his friend with frustrated eyes. "I don't know what to do. Every time I see her, I feel like I have to be careful with every word I say because I know anything could seem offensive to her, even if it's not. It's like she's always ready to throw her fight at me."

Federico took a step back, trying to think of how to explain things better. "She's not challenging you, Jude. She's not trying to provoke you on purpose. She just has a way of doing things that might seem hard to handle, but I'm telling you honestly: she's just testing you. And as much as you want to deny it, I know something attracts you to her, even if you don't want to admit it."

Jude looked at him for a moment, in silence, as if he were trying to figure out if what Federico was saying made any sense. "I don't know, Federico…" he finally replied, his tone softer. "But I can't deny that something about her drives me crazy. But I don't even know how to deal with her. She's not the type of girl I’d expect to meet."

Federico smiled wryly. "Yeah, but maybe that's exactly why you should stop acting tough and try to understand what's behind that facade. She's not just a game, Jude. She's a complex person, and if you really want to have any chance with her, you need to stop treating her like a challenge and start seeing her for who she really is."

Jude remained silent, thinking over those words, but deep inside, he knew that the battle with you was just beginning. A cocky smile slipped out, but there was also a hidden unease. "We’ll see, Federico. We’ll see."

[alligaytorswamp]

im actively losing my mind over my teacher lmao !!! the dude gave me insanely detailed reviews. and they were also so nice??? so so fucking nice ??? like he praised the hell out of my work.. pointed out all the mistakes, praised little stuff, gave extra advice and sources, and i genuinely in my whole fucking life never had a teacher this great, like i'm so fucking sad he won't be checking my work after this bc this module has ended and there will be new teachers/mentors !!! and all of this is online and i have his discord my dude has an anime pfp like he's so cool for that !! wtf!!!

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

Hii girl since you said requests are open I was thinking about reader who loves to get Ethan hard in the most random situations, maybe while they're with friends or in class.

Ps: I love your writing

A/N : Hii ! 🩷 Thank you so so so much for liking my writing and sending me this fabulous request for our boy Ethan, it means a lot to me and I had so much fun writing this 🥰 Please send me your feedback to let me know how I did, it always helps me improve and I hope you’ll like it. Don’t hesitate to send me other requests for our lovely Ethan, love you and enjoy ! ✨

Reader who loves to get Ethan hard in the most random situations.

❦ When Ethan Landry is in love, anything can make him blush and get him hard, really just a kiss or a hug is already enough for him to want you and it annoys Ethan so much to be this weak for you. You could simply be looking at him with doe eyes and a pretty smile while he rambles about his day and the poor sweet boy would avert his eyes from you as he feels his cheeks warming up. Taking his hand in yours in the corridors, to intertwine your fingers, also works very well, Ethan doesn’t mind it, he loves it even, but he’s not used to receiving such affection, just like he’s not used to you complimenting him, as you softly murmur against his lips that he’s « so pretty » while you gently caress his face.

❦ Making out with your boyfriend in front of your friends, your lips pressing kisses on his jaw and neck literally makes Ethan’s head spin as he doesn’t know how to react between completely surrendering himself to you or keeping a straight face in front of Chad and the others.

❦ But obviously, what works best is just letting your hand wander up his thigh under the table and slightly brushing the outline of his cock that’s covered by his jeans that keep getting too tight to his liking, Ethan’s breathing becoming heavy while you act so innocently in front of the others as you all eat.

❦ Sending hot texts to Ethan during classes. That could go from nudes that force him to go to the restroom to take care of his hard-on, to just teasing him. « Do you think this table is sturdy enough for you to take me, Ethan ? », your boyfriend’s eyes are entirely focused on your text as he swallows with difficulty at the fantasy of taking you right here.

❦ Whispering dirty things in his ear while Ethan is in a conversation to make him lose his mind. The poor man doesn’t even know what he was saying seconds ago, as only stutters come out of his mouth now that your lips describe the sinful things that you would like him to do to you.

❦ Making sure you wear the sexiest and prettiest panties under a cute short skirt. And whoops what a strange coincidence, you have to bend down in front of your innocent boyfriend so Ethan can, by chance, catch a glimpse of the pink lace material. Though, Ethan will make sure he’s the only one to see that gorgeous sight, by correctly putting back in its place your skirt behind you when you stand up. What also really works to get him hard is gently asking him in the early morning if he can help you dress, when really Ethan perfectly knows that you can do it yourself. « Please baby, can you help me with the zipper of my dress ? » You bewitched Ethan in such a delicious way, that you can feel the way his fingertips shake a little as he slowly closes your dress.

❦ Considering that your boyfriend trusts you fully, he gave you his phone password ages ago. Little did he know that you would take this opportunity to set his new wallpaper with a quite revealing picture of yourself. At the sight of this, Ethan is debating whether to keep staring at it or to hold his phone pressed very close to his chest so that no one can look at it. « You really are a little minx, aren’t you ? », Ethan would corner you in the corridor as soon as he saw it.

❦ As Ethan helps you study, just like every evening, you make sure to sit on his lap as he explains to you the math exercises, wiggling your butt from time to time just to hear Ethan gasp behind you, his words cut by his own little moans and whines. « Did you u-understand everything ? », Ethan would ask in a stutter. « Yeah, thank you Ethan », you answered him as you kissed the corner of his mouth with a smile.

❦ Ethan reading a book on his own on a bench outside during lunch break as you go over to him with a sweet smile just to sit on his lap, resting your head on his shoulder and whispering in his ear. « What are you reading ? » Ethan doesn’t trust his voice and decides to show you the cover instead while his free hand tightens around your waist.

❦ Asking your boyfriend to accompany you when you go shopping for new sexy lingerie. Ethan shyly waits for you outside the fitting room as he hears you calling his name, hesitantly entering the cabin with you as you ask for his opinion. You slowly twirl around in front of him as his cheeks become red and Ethan knows that he won’t be able to hide his hard-on this time. « You like it ? », you ask him with an innocent smile. « I-I, fuck yes I do », Ethan mumbles as he doesn’t find the will to avert his eyes from your gorgeous body. « But don’t you think it’s a bit overpriced though ? », you ponder. Ethan is quick to make a decision for you, « Don’t care, I’ll buy it for you. »

❦ Watching a movie together at the cinema and there’s a random erotic scene appearing on screen as you ask Ethan in the most innocent tone. « Do you think we could do it ? ». And it’s enough for Ethan to lose his complete interest for the movie, his whole attention now entirely directed to the thought of him and you in the same position as the scene in front of his eyes. Ethan shifts in his seat as he prays for the movie to be over soon enough for him to show you how well he can make this scene come true, hell even in his car if he can’t wait to get back home.

❦ Asking Ethan in the middle of the night to help you sleep in his own way, as you whine sweetly into his ear to wake him up. « Please Ethan, can’t sleep, need you so bad… » Ethan rubs the tiredness out of his face as he takes you in his strong arms that create the most soothing embrace for you. The way you whined and wiggled in his hold was enough to feel Ethan’s hard-on press lightly against your tummy. « My poor baby…Need my help ? Want me so bad that you can’t sleep ? Don’t worry angel, I’m here. »

❦ Now, there’s just a subtle difference in how Ethan would react to this kind of teasing. And it’s simply linked with before and after he lost his virginity to his girlfriend.

❦ Before he made love to you for the first time, Ethan’s reaction would look innocent but really it’s just him trying not to look like a pervert that gets indecent dreams about his girlfriend almost every night and day. He would be a blushing mess that only tries to stop your hand as he fidgets a bit in his seat and stutters while looking elsewhere. « Please, s-stop it, sweetheart…That’s just m-mean… »

❦ After you both had sex for the first time, Ethan would obviously still get madly flustered at your teasing but he also knows that he’ll be able to get back at you when he has you alone for himself, as Ethan warns you about the possibilities which are now offered to him. « You do realize, love, that you’re gonna pay for this tonight, right ? » And Ethan never forgets about his little revenge as he let it all out on you, overstimulating or edging you, it depends on his mood but he, for sure, will tease you in bed as much as you did with him earlier that day. « Did I fuck the attitude out of you, angel ? »

💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗

[permanentlyfemale]

⚠️ Feminization, Misgendering, Forced detrans kink ahead! ⚠️

Today is a scary day for you. As a trans man, finding the right therapist is far more difficult than it is for most people, especially as you weren’t looking for just a new therapist today. You also need someone to write you a top surgery letter. Although you’ve only been on T for 2 months, barely enough to notice anything besides an increased libido and clit growth, your breasts are by far your biggest source of dysphoria. You often wear two binders when you’re going anywhere, and even then, a sizable bump is visible on your chest. You’re hoping they may become easier to bind with hormones, but you already know that you’ll need surgery regardless.

“Milo Brown?” A masculine voice calls your name from across the room. Glancing up, you see a very attractive man, much taller than you, looking to be in good shape under his professional attire, but not overly muscular. His dark shoulder-length wavy hair and stubble complement his gentle, masculine face and warm brown eyes.

Surprised by the man’s beauty, you stumble on your words as you rise from your seat. “I- uh- I’m here.”

“Great! Let’s get back to my office.” He smiles warmly and gestures for you to follow him out of the waiting room and down a hallway, passing mostly empty offices on the way. This doesn’t seem too odd, as there was construction on the lower floor. Maybe some patients didn’t like the noise and cancelled? Or maybe you’re trying to distract yourself from thinking of the exceedingly attractive man that may soon be your therapist. You’ve considered yourself gay since coming out, but starting hormones has certainly made that attraction all the more apparent.

As he opens his office door, you’re surprised by how casual it is. There’s a long couch next to an armchair, with a clipboard set neatly on top. His desk is to the side, seemingly ignored while clients were present in favor of a more personal layout. Thinking of something to say as you sat on the couch, you spit out “I like your office.”

“Thank you Milo, I spent a lot of time thinking of the anatomy of the room and how to make my clients most at ease. I find this works best.” He smiles at you, his eyes gentle and enticing. “I’m Dr. Sterling, I specialize in support for LGBT and FTM clients. Nice to meet you! Tell me a but about yourself and what brings you here.”

“My name is Milo Brown, I’m 19 years old, and I just started testosterone. I’ve been out as trans for a while but finally got access to hormones and I’m hoping to get top surgery as well, but I need a letter for it. I also just need support with my dysphoria and depression.” You cross your arms over your large chest self-consciously.

“Well, that’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Can you tell me more about your dysphoria regarding your chest?”

Shifting uncomfortably in your chair, you hesitantly proceed. “Every day is awful! They’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I go to sleep trying not to feel or think about them. They’re so big and heavy that I feel them whenever I move and it makes me so dysphoric. It’s also impossible to make myself flat, so I never pass. As a gay man, it’s so hard to find a man who would want a guy with a body like mine!”

“Oh, Milo, I think that’s very negative thinking. Plenty of men would find you attractive! I thought you were quite beautiful when I saw you myself.”

You’re surprised by his words! That sounded very flirtatious, but maybe he was just trying to boost your ego. Either way, it made the empty space between your legs tingle when he said it. You also didn’t know he was queer, but it definitely makes you more comfortable with him. “Well… that does make me feel better. I still don’t feel comfortable with my chest though.”

“Why don’t we try something? This is an exercise I’ve done with plenty of my transmasuline patients before, and it has always improved their lives and helped with dysphoria. While we do it, I can assess you for top surgery as well! How does that sound?” He smiled at you expectingly.

“Uhhh… yeah, that sounds good. What are we doing?”

“I’m just going to have you answer some questions about your body and dysphoria. This may get uncomfortable, but it’s all part of this process. I’m sure you can trust me, right?”

“Of course!” You answer instinctively.

“Right. First, I want you to take off your shirt and binder.” He instructs casually.

“What!? I thought we were just answering questions. Is that necessary?” You’re again surprised, he wasn’t a surgeon and you had never shown anyone your chest before. You didn’t want to look at it yourself, much less this beautiful man you’re expecting to see regularly!

“I understand this is surprising and uncomfortable, but I want to understand your perspective on your body, as well as assess the size and density for surgery. I need to know this for the letter, and I understand this is very important to you. I’m sorry for the discomfort, Milo.” He looked at you apologetically, his brown eyes sparkling, staring in to your soul and shooting down between your legs.

“I… okay.” What he was saying did make sense, and you would do most anything for this surgery. Resolving to just get this over with, you take off your oversized hoodie and throw it on the couch next to you. Grabbing both binders at once, you exert a herculean force squeezing yourself out, panting as your huge breasts fly out. You blush with embarrassment as a loud clap can be heard from them swinging together.

Dr. Sterling calmly walks closer to you. “Do you know your cup size?”

“Uh… no, sorry.”

“That’s alright, we can measure now.” He smiles warmly and pulls out some measuring tape. Without hesitation, he walks up to you and wraps it around your chest! He first measures your underbust before moving to measure your bust. His hands rest on your breasts as he does so. “Alright… looks like you have J cups.” His hand brushes your nipple as he backs away.

“Mmph!” Involuntarily, you let out a short, feminine moan. Both the dysphoria of knowing your overwhelming cup size and your accidental vocalization leave you embarrassed and blushing harder than ever.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve experienced any vocal changes from testosterone.” He observes.

“Umm… not yet, no.”

“It also seems like you have quite sensitive nipples?”

“I guess…”

“Well, have you ever considered embracing your breasts?”

“Huh?” You were confused. They made you sad and dysphoric, how could you ever embrace them? He did say whatever he was doing worked for all of his other transmasc patients, but this seemed absurd.

“Your breast are way too big to bind properly. I’ve seen you wearing two binders in here, and that is not healthy. As your therapist, I can’t encourage you to damage your body in such a way, and especially without two binders, you wouldn’t be able to hide them at all anyways. And why go through the trouble of binding if everyone can tell? It might do you some good to just accept your body as it is. It’s not like whether you bind now will affect surgery.”

Unfortunately, everything he was saying made perfect sense. Even when binding, it was very obvious you had breasts. Why go through all the trouble, especially if it was hurting your body? You were dysphoric either way, might as well be more comfortable physically. “I guess… I guess you’re right.”

“Yes… unfortunately it’s also not very possible hormones could reduce them to a bindable size either.”

This devastated you. Even later on testosterone, you would have obvious breasts? How could you expect anyone to take you seriously as a man? You had hoped to begin passing in public soon, and finally begin living comfortably, but you weren’t so sure now. Would it even be safe to live as a non-passing trans man? Why were you going through so much for hormones if there was no hope of passing before surgery anyways? Maybe you should just wait until then for hormones- no one will gender you right as you are now. “Maybe… maybe I should pause testosterone until surgery then.”

“Yes, I can see why. That might be the safest option for you.” He nodded solemnly. “We can practice some exercises to reduce dysphoria until then, if you’d like.” His frown shifted in to a comforting smile.

Still upset, you nodded.

He moved closer and, before you could react, placed one hand on each perky, round breast, grabbing you by the boobs.

Surprised, you squeaked.

“This is just to get you used to your breasts. It often helps most when someone else does it, so you’re more comfortable with other people seeing them.” He gently squeezed and pulled, running his fingers along your supple breasts, warm palms pressing your hard nipples.

“Mmmmmm-! Oooh!” You let out a series of feminine wails as the doctor palms at your breasts. They were so sensitive and they felt so heavy- so wrong on your body- and yet they sent waves of pleasure throughout your curvy figure.

“Are you still going to go by Milo? I mean, you’re stopping T until surgery because you won’t be able to pass. It would be weird to only keep the name and pronouns, especially for strangers.” His hands shifted to thumb at your nipples.

Your thoughts were flooded with waves of pleasure shooting from your tits. The importance of this decision didn’t fully register, but what he was saying made sense to you. “You’re right.”

“Good girl.”

“Huhh…”

“People are going to refer to you by what you look like. You know you don’t pass. This is just exposure training, okay?”

“Okay…” You mindlessly agree as he moves his head close to your breast.

“See? You are a good girl.” He starts to suck on your nipple, causing you to throw your head back and wail in pleasure. You don’t know when his own clothes came off, but he’s getting on top of you and pulling your pants off, leaving you in just your boxers with his much larger biologically male body pinning you down, suddenly kissing your lips.

“What… what are you doing now, d-doctor…” he cuts you off as you pant your words out.

“The easiest way to adapt to and accept being seen as a woman is to have sex with a straight man, one who can use you as only male can use female. You need this, Amelia. It’s okay.”

Hearing your deadname makes you cringe with dysphoria. You’ve always felt an aversion towards it, despising the femininity it signaled. You struggle to reconcile your attraction to the doctor and trust in his methods to your current panic. This all felt good and sounded logical but it’s happening too fast to react, and these are all such big decisions, and suddenly he’s pulling your boxers off.

“Your pussy is so perfect. You make such a sexy woman.” He rubs the length of his cock along your clit and hole. The distinction between your pathetic nub and his masculine length is obvious. He gropes your massive jiggling breasts, squeezing them together and lowering his head to kiss and suck your nipples as his dick prods your entrance.

“Doctor Sterling…” You moan his name as his assault on your tits grows heavier. He sloppily makes out with your huge boobs, enjoying every second he can get drowning in your massive breasts.

He momentarily pulls his mouth from your tits. “Yes… fuck, Amelia!” He rams his hard cock all the way inside you, hitting your cervix as he moans your deadname, resuming his assault on your massive wobbling boobs all the while.

You scream and wail, unsure if it’s in pleasure or some mix of dysphoria and grief for your lost ambitions. Whatever male identity you insisted on was currently obstructed by your massive tits and the straight man enjoying them as he pounded in to your soft, tight vagina. Anyone who saw you two would know immediately that this was heterosexual sex- they would never stop to consider you could be anything but a curvy woman being held down and fucked by a handsome man. Suddenly, the doctor’s thrusts sped up. You forgot condoms, and you’re barely on T!

Right as you open your mouth, he interrupts. “I’m gonna cum, Amelia! I’m cumming inside you!” He holds himself against your cervix, comforting you as you begin to scream. “Shhh, good girl, it’s okay.”

You feel his hot cum flood in to your unprotected pussy, tears falling from your eyes. Feeling the sticky cum start to leak out, you manage to speak. “Do… do you have a towel?”

“Uhhh… here!” He grabs your binders and rips them both, turning them in to makeshift towels as he pulls out, along with a flood of cum.

You know you said you wouldn’t bind anymore, but having the option taken away made everything all the more real. You know it was for the best tho. He specializes in helping trans men, and he said this always works. You just have to trust him! As time runs out, you don’t even realize you forgot to finish your top surgery letter.

Still… you couldn’t wait to book your next session.

[miyukisu]

I Might Bite .ᐟ

❤︎ | Resorting to dirty measures like biting your superior during sparring usually doesn't end without you having a taste of your own medicine... (2.6k wc) ╰ feat. Hoshina Soshiro (Kn8) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 2 | kinktober masterlist

tags - subordinate! reader, biting, marking, spanking, pussy slaps, humiliation & punishment, Hoshina's kinda mean, fingering, p in v, creampies, swearing

minors do not interact

The recent uptick of kaiju attacks over the city has every member of the JAKDF on edge. No one knows when the next attack is coming or if they'll live to see their next birthday. The atmosphere in the Tachikawa base specifically felt odd. Most were hopeless, but then there was you.

You weren't the strongest by any means, but you believed that if it came to being persistent—you'd be the best. It showed; after all, you trained your ass off even in your off hours.

There were times you bled and shed a tear, but you never stopped. Your fellow officers often told you to slow down. But there was one person who always watched from the sidelines—silently observing how you improved every night that you would sneak away into the training rooms.

It was none other than your superior, Hoshina Soshiro.

The vice captain didn't seem all too interested to be invested in the lives of the officers. Frankly, he had better things to do. But the rookie that worked themselves to the bone had successfully caught his eye. There was something about them that reminded him of himself. In many ways, he was drawn to that fiery spirit.

Not a lot of recruits had your determination and he was more than willing to foster that. What kind of vice captain would he be if he didn't help you in honing your skills?

────────────

You stared, dumbfounded, at the fox eyed man in front of you.

"Ya heard me right the first time," he insisted.

You gulp down. "Well... I'm certainly not going to refuse your offer, sir. I was just making sure I understood what you said."

"I told ya—I'll help ya train every night. I meant it."

Finding out that your superior knew you have been violating the curfew had you expecting the worst. But Hoshina's reaction was rather unforeseen.

Instead of making you run laps or do cleaning duty—he offered to train with you during your night sessions. It made sense; training with someone better than you would allow you to improve at faster speeds. The choice was a no-brainer.

"Alright... thank you, sir."

Hoshina simply nodded before walking away from you, satisfied that you were cooperative with his ideas.

"Sir!"

He turns around with a small smile. "Yes?"

"When do we start?"

"Have ya skipped a day before?"

"...No, not really."

His smile widens. "Ya have yer answer then."

────────────

Labored breaths filled the training room—though, most of it came from you. Hoshina barely broke a sweat throughout your entire sparring session. It wasn't shocking anymore at this point.

You estimate that it's already about two weeks since he has started joining you in your training. Not once have you won against him.

At first, it felt quite motivating—knowing that you had so much to improve. But as days go by, it becomes depressing how you can never even land a good hit on him.

You weren't fit to face a kaiju with how things stand and it crushed your once blazing spirits.

With your chest heaving and your vision blurring, you continued to anticipate his next move. You figured he'd at least cut you some slack after seeing the massive difference in skill, but he was merciless. You didn't even fight back as he tackled you to the ground.

Hoshina Soshiro wasn't just talented with a blade, but also with his bare hands. Who would have thought he knew grappling as well? He easily put you in a rear naked choke and you felt your airway quickly constrict.

He taught you that if you couldn't even handle basic hand-to-hand combat—then you'd be nothing doing anything else. Besides, before ending your session with the usual bare knuckled fighting, he trained you with swords and other weapons... in which you couldn't beat him in either.

Going up against him was futile. You absorbed his teachings like a sponge, but when it came to applying them—all hope is lost.

You were going to pass out soon; you could feel it.

Despite telling yourself that you'd always fight fair and square—you realized that this wasn't the time to be righteous. Virtues, principles—whatever the fuck it is—chucked out the window.

You bit down on his arm—hard. Did you draw blood? Perhaps. But that hardly mattered to you. He finally let go, failing to defeat you completely. Hoshina hissed, checking out the fresh wound you gave him.

Neither could you move or speak. In fact, you kept your back leaning on his chest. Doing anything other than breathing was a bit too much at the moment.

"Ya play dirty, don'cha?" he whispered darkly into your ear.

The thickness and intimidation laced in his voice was enough to reinvigorate your entire being. You took the deepest breath possible before peeling yourself off of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Of course ya didn't mean ta do that, right?" he cuts you off, lifting you off of the ground with his impressive strength.

"What shall I ever do with ya? Li'l thing bitin' her superior."

You could only stutter out a pathetic apology as he carries you in his arms.

"Nah, don'cha apologize now. Ya must be sick of me treatin' ya like a ragdoll hm?"

He was right, of course. But you weren't about to admit that to him.

Hoshina carried you over to the side of the room where the long metal bench was. Even out of fighting, he continued to treat you like a doll with the way you effortlessly flipped you over. Your stomach pressed against his lap with one of his hands resting on your nape.

You weren't sure where his other hand was, but you soon found out... the hard way.

A sharp slap made its way to your ass. It had you sucking in more air than usual.

"Not even a single yelp huh? Think ya can handle more? Ya need to be punished after all."

Another slap and then another on the other cheek. Tears were starting to brim in your eyes. With the next slap, you finally yelped in pain. Hearing your sharp breaths, he caressed your poor behind in a soothing manner.

"Think ya've repented enough?"

God, you didn't want to sound weak, but a few sniffles escaped you. His question racked your brain, yet not a single good answer came for it. It was a trap and he was steadily luring you in.

You figured—silence was the best response. However, that pissed off the vice captain even more. Hoshina let out a long and deep sigh. He didn't want to do this; he swears. But you just had to push his buttons.

"Not speakin' huh? How many times will ya disrespect yer superior after I've been kind enough ta be trainin' ya every night?"

If you've learned one thing about him these past few sessions—it was that he never gave you time to react. Only now, you're discovering that it applies to things apart from fighting as well.

He slid you off his lap without warning. Soon as you flipped yourself over, the vice captain was already hovering over you with a stern expression on his face.

He inched closer, slowly but steadily. His eyes never left yours and it seemed to have you in a trance because you failed to realize how he had already caged you between his thick arms.

"Sir..." you managed to say between shaky breaths.

"So you can speak?"

Your eyes finally stray from his face, feeling flustered by the proximity.

"Ya should use that mouth of yers fer talkin' —not fer bitin' ," he said. He leaned in to the point that you felt the warmth of his breath against your neck. It was tantalizing—almost paralyzing. "I think ya should get a taste of yer own medicine," he added.

No time was given to protest as he sunk his sharp teeth into your neck. You gasp, hands finding purchase on his arms. He suckled on the tender skin, sure to leave a mark that you'd have to cover up in the morning.

Then another bite came. Your fingers dug into his flesh. It was painful, but oddly arousing. The intoxicating scent he radiated coupled with his fine looks were a recipe for disaster. But the only one being ruined was you.

Perhaps he felt satisfied after two bites, settling on wet kisses scattered on your neck instead. He kept getting lower and lower until he was met with a barrier.

"Lemme get this out of the way, a'ight?" he says before gripping the soft fabric of your black tanktop—ripping it apart. He smirked at the sight, a flimsy lacey bra.

He pushed it up before smashing his face down on your chest, sucking and lightly biting at a sensitive bud. Your hands went from his biceps to his hair, almost pulling out the strands from the roots.

He bit, tugged, and marked you all over again—like he was staking claim. Hoshina made sure to give attention to the other one as well, sucking on the swell of your breast while using his fingers to toy with the other.

Truth be told, he was too excited and immersed in devouring you that he only now became aware of your sounds. It was delightful to say the least. It made him smile as he nipped at the sensitive flesh.

You began to arch your back, needing more of him. But he took this as a sign to go even lower, planting more kisses that trailed down your stomach. He was giving you whiplash with the alternating softness and harshness of his touch.

He looked up at you and saw your dazed expression, unable to even look back at him. This was fine; this was the only time he'd permit a subordinate not looking him in the eye.

For once, you were able to catch your breath and make sense of it all. You returned your gaze to the man above you. He was hovering over you again, looking down with a feral glare. His large hand gripped your thigh.

"Ya know... fer someone bein' disciplined... ya sure look like yer enjoyin' this."

"I'm not," you retorted. But both of you knew the truth.

"Ya challengin' me? Let's see then, shall we?"

He made quick work of the zipper on your pants before pulling it down and throwing it off to God knows where. His eyes opened slightly, zeroing on the damp patch on your panties. Of course, he was right.

"Would ya look at that—yer pussy's all soaked from that. How naughty."

"I... I... um..."

He huffed. "Ya what?"

Slap. He had slapped your pussy. The stinging sensation had you arching your back off of the cold metallic surface of the bench. A soft groan fell from your lips.

He landed another slap. "Look at how wet ya are right now. Ya shouldn't have lied huh?"

As if to soothe you again, he began rubbing his thumb over your poor cunt. "Didn't mean ta make her cry."

Hoshina smirked at his own joke—because who else would appreciate it? Definitely not you; you were too fucked out to even catch everything that he's saying.

He hooked a finger in the gusset before pulling your panties out of the way. The sight of your dripping cunt made his dick twitch. He had already been especially frustrated this week and the cute little subordinate he trained every night wasn't helping. Her little stunt was essentially the final nail in the coffin.

There was nothing else he wanted more but to fuck you senseless already. But he was a refined man; he had patience.

Hoshina pushed in two digits at first and it almost made him shudder with how tight and warm you were. Patience be damned; he was crumbling all too quickly for his liking.

"Fuck... yer suckin' it in."

A string of soft moans left you. It was music to his ears and he wanted it to be louder.

He began fucking his fingers into you at a faster pace. The muscles of his arm tensed and the veins on his forearm were popping out. A loud and vulgar moan reverberated through the training room. You could only hope that everyone in the base was asleep because there was no way you could be quiet with what he's doing to you.

You tightened around his fingers before unravelling completely. Your pussy fluttered, cumming on to his fingers shamelessly. It almost felt like a task to him—only getting it out of the way to get to the main event.

Hoshina pulled out his fingers, sucking them clean. He would have loved to get a taste of it on his tongue, but all restraint had been lost. He had to sheath himself in you or else he'd actually lose it.

"Take a deep breath for me, a'ight?" he says while unzipping his pants, only barely pulling out his leaking cock from its confines.

Maybe you should have listened because the sudden intrusion of his cock knocked the air out of your lungs. It filled you up nicely, hitting every spot with just one fluid motion.

He groans, throwing his head back in ecstasy. His fingers were practically white with how hard he gripped the bench supporting the both of you.

"Coulda fought me with this instead. Maybe ya coulda won," he teased. He began slowly fucking into you, perhaps a reprieve after his previous actions.

Your hands held on to his back, softly digging your nails into the chiseled flesh. A satisfied groan poured from his smiling lips.

The string of moans coming from you urged him to go faster. He had enough of being slow and soft. He snapped his hips at a maddening pace almost immediately. Your leg fell of the bench, hanging off and allowing him deeper access into you.

He never faltered for a second—even as he leaned down to leave marks on your neck again. You held him closer to you as if you never wanted him to leave... and he wasn't; at least, not until you've cum all over his cock.

His ragged breaths filled your ear as he continued to rut into you. Hoshina was tough, ruthless, and precise—much like on the battlefield.

A familiar clench squeezed his dick. "Ya close? Ya gonna cum on my cock? C'mon, do it," he goaded.

His thumb began circling your swollen clit. After holding on to the cold bench for a while, his touch felt freezing. The warmth you felt inside contrasted with the cold touch of his thumb. The sensation was almost numbing with how good it felt.

"Wanna cum with me? How romantic of ya," he teased again. "Fuck... I'm cummin' —take it all. This is still part of yer punishment. Got that?"

You responded with a breathless moan. That was all it took before hot ropes of cum filled you. The warmth seemed to push you over the edge as well, milking him for all he's worth. And like he said—it would be romantic. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Ya learned yer lesson yet?" he asked, but not before capturing your wet lips in a kiss.

Hoshina let a shaky breath out as he pulled away. He knew it would be good, but he wasn't expecting for it to be this good.

"Shit... was only plannin' one round. Guess it wouldn't hurt ta discipline ya more."

He lazily rubbed his still hard cock. "C'mon, get on all fours fer me and I might not make ya run laps in morning's training." He watched intently as you followed, lining up his dick against your entrance. It was going to be a long night.

"Good fuckin' girl."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note slightly longer I guess because I like Hoshina more lol

[virahaus]

Another day, another time to debunk shitty takes I see online.

I've seen a multiple of people pointing out that "we don't know anything about Tommy" and how could people ship him with Buck (nevermind that the ship is canon and always will remain so) when we know so little about him?

First of all, I'd actually make a point to say that we as of now already know more about him then all the other LI that Buck or Eddie ever had in the show.

I shall make you a list, so that you may remember it more easily:

- He likes cars and he's a good mechanic (extrapolated by the fact that Eddie explicitly said that fixed/improved his engine)

- He likes playing basketball and he's also quite competitive ("we'll make short work of them" said in reference of Buck and Chim)

- He's sarcastic (the closet line)

- His favourite film is "Love, Actually"

- He loves Monster Truck and Craft Beer, and MMA

- He has a big scar on his chest and it came from a fire in a factory

- He's a very skilled pilot, able to manoeuvre in a hurrican, and doesn't waver in the face of danger

- He likes watching and practicing Muay Thai

- He was a pilot in the army

- He only came out when he started working in Harbor, but prefers not to publicise his sexuality

- He doesn't like Bella Swan (and it's implied he might like Jacob more) and he watched the Twilight movies

- He likes to drive his friends to events

- He has friends that can get him high up tickets for shows in Vegas

- He has permission to fly airplanes for personal reasons when he's not on the clock

- He likes to be helpful and he's thoughtful (driving Eddie to check out his sprain, going to Buck's to clear out the air without prompt, immediately agreeing in helping the 118 with the whole ship operation, trying to get Buck to be at ease on their date)

- He's loyal (he didn't rat the others out when the chief called on their way to Bobby)

- He's a smooth flirt

- He can do a mean mouth static (at least in his opinion)

- He pays the bill on first dates

- He is very much the definition of carpe diem (kissing buck was very much shooting his shot)

- He checks for consent

- He kept contact with Chim ever after he left the 118

- Chim called him for help in the episode Broken

- He went to the 217 and opened the spot for Buck at the 118

- He participated in the betting pool Hen made on how long Bobby would last at the 118 captain

- He apologises when he's in the wrong and is shown to be able to correct his behaviour

- He doesn't like chickens (lol)

- He likes the film fight club and can quote it

- Implies to have dated people he met on a call

See? We know quite a lot actually. So you may get off your high horse how about that.

I don't think I missed anything but do let me know.

[cherrylovelycherry]

Hi! I wanted to say that I really love your writing, I spent hours binge reading without even noticing! I also love how creative your "menu" is. I wanted to ask if you take requests? If so, could I request a Boothill x Fem reader souffle? It can be any kind of plot or without plot at all. I just really like your writing and would like to see one of Boothill. Thank you so much for your time -anon

.note. hihi anon! aww it's nice that you like my writing, thanks! (ㅅ´ ˘ `) this took me a while, uni is being hard on me. sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language. anyway, i'm kicking my feet as i write this. i have the hc that boothill is sweet and gentle when it comes to intimacy, the complete opposite of his appearance, so yeah. hope you like it! ദ്ദി (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)~✧

𓂅new order. "soufflé and a éclair au chocolat."

You know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboy!

pairing. Boothill x fem!reader cw/genre. nsfw, fluff, cunnilingus, blowjob, some praise kink, first time, mdni synopsis. you ended up fucking a cowboy full menu

You're were with Boothill this afternoon, as he was willing to give you lessons on horse riding after he realised how incredibly inexperienced you were.

You were lucky he taught you, though you assumed it would be his way of repaying the favors you did him, fixing and improving his robotic body countless times.

The countryside is just outside of the busy city, so, as somone who lived in the city, being with Boothill in the countryside was very different.

After an hour or two, you started to grow tired and Boothill noticed it. He offered for you to come to his house, or so you thought, since that was where he was staying for a while, instead of walking all the way back home in such a tired state. You nodded, exhuasted, just wanting to lay your head on a pillow.

As Boothill walks with you check your phone, and there's a message from your roommate asking where you were. You quickly text that you're staying at Boothill's for the night.

Another message appears, and when you open it, it says;

"You're staying with Boothill for the night?? OMG, you know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboyyy!"

You felt the heat rise to your face almost instantly as you read the message. Which caused curiosity in him, approaching where you were.

"Hey, you ok? You're turning red, darlin'."

As if trying to see what the message was about, you moved your head to the side. Which ended up being for the fun of it as you quickly put your phone away.

The evening sun was already peeking out, being chased by the darkness of the night.

With somewhat quick steps, it managed to set before you, curiosity etched across his features, Boothill reached out to touch your cheek. "Seriously, you look like a ripe tomato. Did somethin' happen?"

Your heart skipped a beat as his fingers slowly touched your cheek. You took a shaky breath as his hand continued to touch your face.

You quickly looked away, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I'm fine, just tired. That's all," you said quietly, trying to sound convincing.

The feeling of his hand on your skin sent chills down your spine, reminding you of the message your roommate sent.

You let go of his grip, as you both continued walking.

Was it possible that…he was thinking the same thing?

You shook your head slightly at the thought.

"Just my stupid roommate making a dumb joke." You tried to laugh it off, but even you could hear how forced it sounded.

Boothill continued to watch you intently, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment longer before he spoke.

"Darlin', I can tell when you're lyin'. You're makin' it kinda obvious," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Hah, right, whatever you say." You scratched your cheek with your hand, hurrying your pace.

He merely laughed lightly at your response.

You both walked towards where Boothill was staying, it was a somewhat remote house, but it was in the city.

The house was somewhat large, the owner of which was a grandmother, who Boothill had once saved. She was extremely sweet to let him stay there if he needed it.

As you arrived at the house, you noticed how the sky had darkened even more, the stars slowly appearing as the night settled in.

As you both reached the house, Boothill unlocked the front door. It creaked open, and he stepped back to let you walk in first.

With a muttered "thank you", you entered the house. It was cozy and comfortable, a warm place that seemed to radiate with a hint of nostalgia.

Boothill closed the door behind him and led you into the living room.

"Make yourself at home darlin' I'll go and let her know I've brought you with me," he said before disappearing into the hallway.

You took a seat on the couch in the living room, and as soon as your butt met the cushion, you felt your phone vibrate.

Another message… probably from your roommate.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and quickly unlocked it, curiosity getting the better of you.

Sure enough, it was another message from your roommate, still riding the horse/cowboy joke.

This time, she sent a gif of a cowboy riding a horse, with the message; "Yee-haw! Ride that cowboy, babe! 😉"

You couldn't help but sigh, feeling a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. And even some amusement at the gif she sent. Your roommate was way too invested in your supposed "crush" on Boothill.

You groaned inwardly Great. It was never going to end. Your roommate was going to make this into a running joke for months, maybe even until the end of time.

Your irritation was interrupted as you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

Boothill appeared a moment later, walking back into the living room. He took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, still maintaining a respectable distance from you.

"She's just glad I'm finally bringin' someone here," he chuckled, referring to the house's owner.

He leaned back into the couch, his eyes still fixed on your form. There was a small smile on his face.

You shifted in your seat, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth at his words.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure she's had to deal with your antics for a while now," you quipped, trying to sound lighthearted.

Boothill let out a mocking gasp, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense.

"Excuse me? Are you implyin' that I'm a troublesome guest? Me? A perfect gentleman?"

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"Oh yes, the perfect gentleman," you said, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

He feigned an expression of innocence.

"I'll have you know, I am a model guest. I make sure to clean up after myself, respect the property, and always ask for permission before snackin' on somethin'."

You couldn't help but laugh at his attempts to defend himself.

"Right, because asking for permission to raid the fridge is the epitome of good manners," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "And let's not forget the time you accidentally broke a vase and tried to mend it with duct tape."

He fakely frowned a little.

"Hey, I still stand by that duct tape solution. It looked pretty darn good once I was done with it," he chuckled, a hint of guilt in his voice.

You shook your head, still amused.

"You're lucky the house's owner has a soft spot for you. Otherwise she wouldn't let you stay here any longer."

He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

"What can I say? I'm irresistibly charmin'."

He stretched lazily, his metal arms extending with a soft whir.

"But seriously, she knows I ain't cause no real trouble. And besides, I keep the spiders away for her," he added with a wink.

You snickered. "Ah, yes, the dutiful bodyguard against the eight-legged critters. She must be so thankful for your bravery."

He laughed, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

"You laugh now, but when you have a spider the size of your hand crawlin' up your leg, you'll be beggin' for my services," he teased.

"Please, like I'd ever let it come to that," you retorted. "I'd fight that spider off with a rolled-up newspaper if I had to."

He chuckled again. "Oh, I don't doubt that for a second darlin'. You ain't afraid of much, are you?"

The lighthearted atmosphere was refreshing, and you found yourself enjoying the exchange.

"Heh, I guess not."

You put a lock of your hair behind your ear, while Boothill turned on the medium-sized television in the room. The fireplace made the cold outside not felt at all.

The soft glow of the television filled the room, casting shadows on the walls.

Boothill grabbed the remote and started flicking through the channels, looking for something to watch.

"Anythin' ya want to watch?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

You tilted your head, pretending to think for a moment before answering.

"How about a cowboy movie?" you suggested, a teasing tone in your voice.

"Hah! A good one then."

As you glanced at Boothill, you noticed the way the light reflected in his eyes, their artificial luminescence dancing with the flicker of the screen.

"You hungry? I can whip somethin' up for ya in the kitchen," he offered, his voice still carrying a hint of humor.

You considered his offer.

"Nah, I'm alright," you replied, your attention half-focused on the TV.

The more time passed, the more interesting the movie became. You both let out one or another comment about this. Until you and him were silent.

He leaned back against the couch, his metal arm resting along the back. Despite his mechanical parts, he still managed to exude a sense of comfortable familiarity.

His gaze flicked away from the television, locking onto yours.

"You okay, darlin'? You're a little quieter than usual."

You were caught off guard for a moment, surprised by his perceptive question.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you answered, a little too quickly. Lie, you were falling asleep.

The truth was, you were fighting the urge to yawn.

"I'm just a lil tired ," you added, trying to sound nonchalant. Another lie, your whole body hurt from the physical exercise you were doing earlier in the field with Boothill.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his gaze.

"Uh-huh, 'a little tired,' ya say," he said, clearly not buying your act.

He leaned forward a bit, studying your face.

"Your eyes are heavy, and you're yawnin' more than a kitten."

He thought for a second before placing a cushion from the couch, which they were sitting on, over his legs.

"Here." He said, patting the cushion a few times, so you could lay your head there.

"Are you calling me a tired kitten?" you protested, unable to stop a small yawn from escaping your lips as you spoke, proving his point.

Your eyes widened slightly as he patted the cushion on his lap, offering it to you like some kind of makeshift pillow.

Your heart skipped a beat, the situation feeling suddenly more intimate.

But your body yearned for rest, your tired muscles calling out for a moment of peace.

He smirked, clearly amused by your tired protest.

"I dunno, if the shoe fits…" he joked, his gaze still fixed on you.

As you hesitated, hesitating to accept the offer, your tired body won out over your embarrassment.

With a defeated sigh, you slowly leaned down, resting your head on the pillow of the cushion, now laying across his lap.

Your heartbeat quickened as you felt the firm but gentle support of his thighs beneath you.

He chuckled softly as he noticed your hesitation, but allowed you to lean down and rest your head on his lap.

"There you go, darlin'," he murmured as you settled into the makeshift pillow.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Boothill remained silent for a moment, observing your tired state.

"Comfy?" he asked finally, his voice a low rumble.

"Mhm." You let out an affirmation towards his words.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion that tugged at your eyelids.

The sound of the movie in the background faded away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing.

For a moment, there was a silence between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

Instead, it felt soothing.

He watched you closely as you let your guard down, your eyes slowly drifting closed.

With each breath you took, your body seemed to relax further, almost melting into his lap.

Boothill's metal fingers gently traced the outline of your hair, almost on instinct, as if seeking to provide some kind of comfort.

A soft, almost silent chuckle passed his lips as he noticed your tired state.

You felt your body relax as tension drained from your muscles, the weight of the day's physicality finally catching up to you.

Boothill seemed content to remain silent, allowing you to rest in comfortable respite.

Your mind started to wander, thoughts blending together seamlessly. You felt strangely at peace in this position - head resting on his lap, his metal fingers brushing against your hair, the sounds of the movie like a distant hum.

You felt utterly at ease, your tired body finally getting the rest it desperately craved.

Boothill's presence was both comforting and grounding, his touch a constant reminder of his attentiveness towards you.

Your thoughts gradually faded into weary tiredness, your mind struggling to stay awake longer.

You found yourself drifting on the edge of sleep.

He continued idly running his metal fingers through your hair, a soothing rhythm that seemed almost designed to lull you deeper into relaxation.

As your breathing slowed, growing more rhythmic and steady, he could tell that you were moments away from drifting off to sleep.

His eyes never left your face, taking in your relaxed expression and the soft curves of your features.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing you at peace, especially after a long day.

You felt his fingers running through your hair once more before you fell completely asleep.

Your mind slowly slipped away from consciousness, and the world around you faded into a drowsy haze.

You don't know how much time passed, but you slowly opened your eyes, keeping them half-lidded.

You weren't touching the couch and you felt like they were grabbing you.

Oh, you were being carried.

Keeping your eyes the same way, you looked up, watching as he was carrying you up the stairs.

You felt like in those princess stories in which the prince carefully carries the princess.

As he carried you up the stairs, his grip firm and gentle around you, he took note of your half-lidded eyes slowly fluttering open.

He chuckled softly as he caught your gaze, realizing you were half-awake.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he teased quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He continued up the stairs, navigating carefully to not accidentally hit your head or anything else.

"Go back to sleep, dear"

He was taking you to a spare room so that you could sleep more comfortably.

Even in your semi-asleep state, you heard the soft rumble of his voice, the sound soothing your tired mind.

A small, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you heard him call you "sleepyhead." It was a nickname you hadn't heard from him before.

He carried you gently upstairs, the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor blending with the silence of the house. You kept your eyes half-open, still disoriented and groggy.

"Mmph…" you managed to mumble in response, your drowsy brain struggling to form coherent words.

He chuckled at your sleepy attempt at a response, finding your disoriented state endlessly endearing.

"Shhh," he whispered, his metal fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"You're barely awake, darlin'. Just go back to sleep, we're almost in the guest room."

The soft hallway lights cast long shadows ahead of him, dancing softly against the walls as he continued on.

Finally reaching the spare room, he carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Gently, he laid you down on the bed, tucking the blankets around you like he was handling a delicate artifact.

As you were gently lowered onto the bed, the soft sheets and blankets wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, your body automatically snuggled into their embrace.

A small, satisfied sigh escaped your lips as your tired muscles sink against the mattress.

The cool sheets felt soothing against your skin as you slowly settled into the bed, still in a half-asleep state.

You felt his touch once more as he carefully adjusted the blankets, ensuring you were tucked in properly.

"There we go," he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing.

As you were laid on the soft mattress, the blankets wrapping around you like a cosy cocoon, you felt the exhaustion fully taking over again.

Your tired mind was too drowsy to think clearly, your eyelids feeling heavy once more.

You vaguely registered his movements around you as he seemed to be adjusting something near the bed.

"…Boothill?" you mumbled his name, your voice still thick with sleepiness.

He paused, looking down at you with a hint of surprise at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, darlin'?" he replied quietly, his voice a gentle rumble.

He finished adjusting the blanket, ensuring you were completely covered and tucked in.

He then leaned closer to the bed, his eyes studying your sleepy face for a moment, before a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You need somethin', or are you just makin' sure I'm still here?" he teased gently.

Your sleepy brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, the drowsiness making it difficult to string words together.

"Mmph… jus' makin' sure…" you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

You felt strangely vulnerable in this half-asleep state, the tiredness leaving you without the usual guard you had up.

The room was quiet, the only sound being the soft rustling of the blankets as you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable.

You could feel his presence close to the bed, his eyes still fixed on you.

Literally the idea of what you were going to try to say left you. So you frowned, keeping your eyes closed.

Until you managed to remember something, "The girl who is with you will be…very, veeery luckyy,"

He raised an eyebrow at your drowsy mumble, his grin widening slightly.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice soft and amused.

When you mentioned the hypothetical luck of his future girlfriend, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head slightly. "You're still dreamin', darlin'."

He reached out, his metal fingertips lightly running through your hair once more, a soothing gesture.

He stood silently nearby, watching you as you fought against the fog of sleep.

As you mumbled something about the girl he might date, his expression softened even further. He couldn't help but find your sleepy ramblings both amusing and endearing.

You hummed with pleasure as you felt his metal fingertips gently run through your hair once more, the sensation sending a soothing wave through your tired body.

Your eyes remained closed, too heavy to open, and yet some part of your tired mind stubbornly held on to consciousness.

"Mm…not dreamin'…jus' sayin'…" you protested, your words slurring together slightly.

Your mouth attempted to form more words, but fatigue weighed heavily on your tongue, making it difficult to speak clearly.

"Lucky…" you mumbled once more, the word sounding more like a sigh than anything else.

He chuckled softly beside you, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place.

"…Darlin', you're not exactly makin' sense," he teased, his tone warm and affectionate.

He continued to run his mechanical fingers through your hair, the soothing motion seemed to melt away any tension still lingering in your body.

As you mumbled about luck and being lucky, he chuckled again, the sound low and gentle.

Your words came out alone, almost like a yawn that couldn't be stopped. "C'mere…" You said, as you looked at him, you opened your eyes a little this time.

His hand paused in your hair, caught off guard by your request.

He looked at you, your half-open eyes peering up at him through the haze of sleep.

A mix of surprise and amusement played across his face. "You want me to come closer?" he asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He stood there for a moment, as if trying to decipher your sleepy request, before moving closer to the bed.

“Mhm,” You blurted out, affirming his words.

His eyes scanned your face, taking in your half-open eyes and the sleepy smile on your lips.

"You're a bossy little thing, even when you're half-asleep," he said with a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

He leaned over slightly, his metal hand still resting on your hair, gently smoothing out the messy strands.

By the time he got close enough, your body acted on its own.

"Lucky.." You murmured as you grabbed his face with both hands and placed your lips on top of his, quickly but softly.

Caught off guard by your unexpected move, his eyes widened slightly when he felt the softness of your lips against his. For a moment, he froze, his brain trying to comprehend what was happening.

But it didn't take long for him to respond. His hand on your hair slid down to your cheek, the coolness of his metal fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

He returned the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentleness that contradicted his cybernetic appearance.

After a few seconds, he pulled away slightly, "Darlin', you're gonna be the death of me…" he murmured

As you felt his response, his cool fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Your tired mind was still in a sleepy haze, but the kiss seemed to awaken a different kind of energy within you. You let out a sleepy giggle at his words, your eyes still half-lidded.

“You’re a little too cheeky when you’re sleepy," he admonished, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're gonna give a cowboy a heart attack."

It was a nice way to put it since he physically had no heart.

His eyes tracing the curve of your smile on your lips. Your tiredness seemed to fuel a playful energy within you, making you even more endearing in his eyes.

He shifted his position slightly, his body now facing you fully, one knee on the bed. His metal hand cupped your chin, tilting your face up towards him as he leaned in slightly.

"And here I am, trying to be all gentlemanly and let you get some sleep," he teased, his voice low and full of mock reproach.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the drowsy state making you even more cheeky than usual. Besides, despite being tired, your consciousness was more exact. You were leaving the state of drowsiness.

"Gentlemanly, huh?" you mumbled, your words still slightly slurred by sleepiness.

You pushed yourself up on one elbow, leaning towards him as much as your tired body would allow. "That's cute," You commented, your other hand reaching out to touch his chest.

You chuckled softly, "Besides, whose fault is it for being so irresistibly kissable?" you retorted.

You liked to see how his face turned slightly red, being visible only by the night light that came through the window.

You were enjoying the unexpected turn of events, the boundaries between friendship and something else starting to blur.

His eyes widened slightly at your words, the compliment catching him off guard.

He watched intently as you leaned forward, your touch against his chest igniting a spark under his metal skin.

Thanks to you, who had been able to connect and 'create' new nerves that would be connected to his robotic parts, managing to have at least a slight sensation of touch in his body.

His eyes flicked down to your hand before returning to meet your gaze, his expression a mix of amusement and something else he couldn't quite hide.

Your words had found their mark, and he couldn't deny the reaction they provoked. Despite his usual confidence, there was something about your sleepy flirtations that had him uncharacteristically flustered.

He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor, but a hint of a blush betrayed his reaction.

He leaned in closer, his body nearly hovering over yours as you leaned up on your elbow. His metal hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers tracing circles on your skin.

Your senses seemed hyper-aware in this exhausted state, and the feeling of his metal fingers tracing circles on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

The way he loomed over you, his body hovering just above yours, made your heartbeat quicken. There was a sudden tension in the air, a subtle shift in the dynamics of your relationship.

You looked up at him, your eyes no longer had that flash of tiredness.

He could see the change in your eyes, the drowsiness slowly giving way to a sharper focus. A silent understanding seemed to pass between you both; the tiredness had faded, replaced by a different kind of awareness.

He leaned in even closer, his face now only inches away from yours. His eyes held a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed desire, studying your features as if seeing you in a new light.

The air thick with an unspoken tension. Your skin tingled where his metal fingers touched your neck, a mix of cool certainty and unexpected delicacy.

"You're awake now, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice lower than usual, hinting at the effect you were having on him.

His fingers continued their gentle dance along the back of your neck. He seemed to be wrestling with something, caught between his customary charm and the unfamiliar surge of vulnerability.

Your lips parted slightly, the proximity making it difficult to focus on anything but him.

His eyes were searching yours, studying every detail as if trying to memorize each inch of your face. His gaze remained fixed on you, watching how your eyes responded to his closeness.

But, oh, he was holding back, there was an evident hunger within him.

A hunger he never thought he wanted, specifically from you.

He saw your reaction, the slight intake of breath, the way your lips parted slightly.

His mind was hazy with a million thoughts, all centered on you and how much he wanted to close the remaining space between you.

His metal fingers moved up from your neck, tracing a path along your jawline before gently brushing against your bottom lip.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched slightly at his touch, the feeling of his metal fingers on your lip setting your nerves alight.

His voice was soft but laced with a barely restrained intensity. He was struggling with his own desires, trying to hold back but also aching for more.

You hesitated for a moment, caught between wanting to give in to the budding intimacy and fearing the consequences.

Your eyes met his, searching his gaze for any hint of insecurity or doubt. But the desire in his eyes made it clear that this was not a whim or a passing fancy for him.

"But I don't want you to stop," You responded also quietly. Your eyes left his for a moment, looking down at his lips.

Your words were like music to his ears, banishing the last remnants of his hesitation.

His breath hitched slightly as your eyes drifted to his lips, the silent desire in your gaze mirroring his own.

His hand shifted, moving to cradle your face, his thumb resting just under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

And, with just a nod from you, he couldn't help it anymore.

Being careful not to hurt you, he somewhat carelessly brought his lips to yours, pressing them with need.

Your confirmation was all he needed.

The moment your heads met, there was an explosion of sensation. He deepened the kiss, his other hand gripping your waist, drawing you closer to him. His body pressed against yours, the coolness of his metal chest contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

His tongue eagerly explored your lips, seeking access to your mouth, a silent plea for more, for more of you.

There was a certain urgency in his actions, a hunger you could practically taste in the way he held you, the way his tongue moved against yours.

As his tongue sought entry into your mouth, you didn't hesitate to respond in kind.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, needing to feel more of him against you.

His hands roamed restlessly over your body, as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin through your clothes. He needed to feel every part of you, as if the physical contact could quench the hunger burning within him.

The kiss grew more urgent, more demanding. His cool metal fingers gripped your waist, holding you tightly as he pressed you further into the mattress.

His tongue danced with yours, a silent battle for control, each movement charged with raw desire. There was a hint of something wild in his demeanor, the usually controlled cowboy succumbing to his most primal instincts.

He groaned softly into the kiss as your hands tangled in his hair, the feeling both pleasurable and arousing.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, arching against him in a silent plea for more.

His hands explored your body, tracing the contour of your curves, the cool metal of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nibbles along your sensitive skin.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured against your neck, his voice hoarse with desire.

A gasp escaped your lips as he moved from your mouth to your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin.

Heat pooled in your core, his words and actions igniting a fire within you.

Your fingers gently tugged at his hair, a silent signal urging him on. A soft moan escaped from your throat as he bit down lightly on a particularly sensitive spot.

"You have… no idea," you managed to gasp out, your voice shaky with need.

He hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating along your sensitive skin.

Your gasps and slight moans only fueled his desire, the sound of your voice shivering with need causing a shiver to run down his system.

His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve, as if mapping out a territory he now desperately wished to claim as his own.

He smirked slightly against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses that were slowly moving down to your collarbone.

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," he retorted, his voice carrying a low, sultry tone.

His hands moved lower, resting on your hips, gently guiding your body against his.

His smirk against your neck sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat of your desire growing with each passing moment.

His hands roaming over your body and his lips tracing a path down your collarbone added fuel to the flame.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as he continued his assault on your skin.

"Boothill…" you whispered, his name sounding like a prayer tumbling off your lips.

Your whispered plea, his name falling from your lips like a litany, sent a shock through his system.

He paused his ministrations for a moment, lifting his head to look at you.

Your eyes were half-lidded, your cheeks flushed, and your hair slightly disheveled. You looked utterly captivating in that moment, your desire for him written all over your face.

His hands left your body, this time heading to your shirt.

I was about to roll it up until his brain made him stop for a moment.

"Do you want…to do it?" He dared to ask you, seeking your consent. His eyes boring into yours gently.

You met his eyes, seeing the mixture of desire and restraint in his gaze.

Your breath still slightly ragged, you nodded slowly.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want this. I want you."

As he pulled your shirt off, his hands skimmed over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, partially undressed before him.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming over your body, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

His words, a simple compliment carrying more weight than usual, caused your heart to skip a beat.

His eyes trailed over your body, taking in every detail as if you were a masterpiece hanging in a gallery.

The way he looked at you, with a mixture of desire and admiration, made you feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

His eyes were fixed on you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone and down your chest. Finding your bra very annoying.

The combination of his touch, his kisses, and his words made you feel like you were slowly unraveling.

His mouth trailing along your skin was driving you insane with need and desire.

His lips trailed down your neck and down your chest until they reached the barrier of your bra. He paused for a moment, his hands gently tracing the edge.

"Can I?" he asked quietly, his fingertips brushing against the fabric.

The way he was handling you, with a mixture of reverence and desire, made you feel both cherished and desired.

His lips returned to your neck, leaving soft, teasing kisses as he waited for your response.

As his fingertips traced the edge of your bra, your heart pounded in anticipation, your body aching for more of his touch.

His request, whispered in a soft, hoarse voice, set your nerves on fire.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes,"

He didn't need further coaxing. His hands quickly unclasped your bra, freeing your chest from its confinement.

His lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses down your newly bared skin. He seemed to savor every inch of you, as if unable to get enough.

The feeling of his lips on your bare skin was nothing short of maddening.

His hands, now free from the barrier of your bra, roamed freely over your torso, as if he were mapping a new territory.

His hands instinctively went to your breasts, massaging them slowly and gently, touching the tips of your breasts. Causing you to flinch at the coolness of his fingers.

Without further ado, his mouth moved to one of your breasts, his other hand touching the other.

He sucked and nibbled gently, drawing a gasp from your lips.

His mouth on your sensitive skin sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching as his tongue flicked against one of your nipples.

Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close, your fingers clenching tightly as he continued his ministrations.

You gasped, arching your back towards him, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His hands continued to explore your body, his touch firm yet gentle, as if trying to memorize every contour.

His fingers traced circles over your hip bone, then moved lower, slipping under the waistband of your pants.

This time he didn't ask, he raised his head and looked at you, with those eyes full of pleading.

Oh, that look you never thought you'd see in him.

The look in his eyes was one you never thought you'd notice coming from him.

It was a silent plea, a silent "Let me take care of you."

Hearing your gasps and slight moans, he wondered why it had taken him so long to cross this line with you.

You could feel the desire growing inside you, a burning need for more contact, more of him.

You raised your hips, silently giving him permission to remove your pants, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Slowly, he slid your pants down along with underwear in one go, his hands skimming over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You could feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your exposed body.

He ran his hands gently down your thighs.

Now you were completely naked in front of him, your body on display, vulnerable and exposed.

His gaze roamed over your body, taking in the sight of you in all your glory.

In his eyes you were the most perfect thing that could exist, a goddess, an angel come down from the heavens.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and desire.

He leaned down again, pressing his lips against your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses. Then, he pressed light kisses on your legs, moving closer and closer to where you needed him the most.

Your body was aflame with desire, every touch of his sending your senses into overdrive.

Your legs opened slightly, inviting him closer, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His lips moved over your skin, his kisses growing more insistent as he made his way to the inner part of your thighs.

"Please," you managed to gasp out, desperate for him to touch you where you needed him most.

He chuckled softly against your skin, enjoying the fact that he had you completely at his mercy.

His chuckling set your blood boiling, your body arching towards him in a silent plea.

He knew what you wanted, what you needed, and he was enjoying every second of it.

"Patience, darlin'," he drawled, his lips trailing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He was taking his time, teasing you, drawing out the pleasure, and driving you insane in the process.

He continued his assault on your inner thighs, leaving gentle bites and kisses, slowly moving closer to your center.

His hands were now firmly gripping your hips, holding you in place, preventing you from bucking up against him in a plea for more contact.

Until after that little torture of his, his lips hovered over your aching center, kissing above your lips, softly and gently.

You were a wreck.

Your body ached for more contact, more of him, and he was purposely taking his time.

Instead, he began to trace small, feather light kisses around your aching core, his lips moving slowly but purposefully, avoiding the place you wanted them most.

You gasped again, barely managing to hold back a whine in protest.

"Please," you repeated, your voice a desperate plea, "Please, Boothill."

He chuckled against your skin again, enjoying the way your body responded to his every touch.

When he finally moved his lips to your center, his tongue lightly flicking against your sensitive bud, you gasped loudly, a shiver running down your spine.

His tongue started to explore your most sensitive parts, flicking and swirling gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your head fell back against the pillows, your eyes closing as you surrendered to the sensations he was creating.

His tongue's teasing touch against your center sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands tangled in his hair again, pulling slightly as he continued to explore you. "So beautiful and sweet," he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice adding to the sensations he was causing.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling, driving you even further into frenzy.

Then, his fingers entered the equation, slowly slipping inside you while his mouth continued to work its magic.

Your body trembled, the combined sensations overwhelming your senses.

You were at his mercy, your body completely under his control, writhing and gasping under his expert ministrations.

His fingers moved inside you, curling and stroking, while his tongue continued to flick against your sensitive bud.

The sensations were quickly building toward a climax, your breath coming in quick gasps as you tried to hold back.

"Boothill.. I can't.. too much.." you managed to gasp out, your body arching off the bed.

He seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to elicit the most intense reactions from you.

You couldn't think straight, his touch sending you into a state of ecstasy that was almost overwhelming.

Your body was caught in a tempest of pleasure, every touch of his tongue and fingers driving you closer to the brink.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that made your breathing grow ragged.

It looked like he was licking and eating a candy.

Your fingers gripped in his hair, tugging slightly as the pleasure built within you.

"Oh god," you breathed, your voice a ragged gasp, "Please, I-"

Then, suddenly, he stopped, drawing back just as you were about to reach your climax.

You let out a gasp of frustration, your body aching for release.

"Not yet, darlin'," he murmured against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your inner thigh.

At the lack of his lips and tongue on your clitoris, you felt a slight breeze that made you shiver. Not to mention how you felt it pulsating.

His free hand gently massaged your hip, as if trying to reassure you.

Your body was taut like a bowstring, the sudden lack of stimulation leaving you feeling empty and needy.

He slid his fingers out of you, stretching them a little, watching as your juices covered them completely, almost spilling out.

He let out a light chuckle, before bringing his fingers to his mouth, drinking in your delicacy.

Your view, which was clouded with ecstasy, focusing on the scene of him sucking on his fingers, was completely provocative.

It was all too obvious that he was more than needy.

Your breathing grew ragged as you watched him suck on his fingers, your eyes wide.

The sight of him enjoying the taste of you was almost too much to bear.

"You taste so good, darlin'," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could do this all night."

When his eyes met yours, that's when you realised.

You had been so focused on your release that you hadn't realised how much he wanted this.

His face flushed, his lips moist.

Oh, he looked so damn needy.

He looked completely undone, like he was restraining himself from taking you right there on the spot.

He was tense, as if he was holding himself back.

Your skin thrumed under his hot gaze, and you could see the way his body reacted to the sight of you sprawled out before him.

It was the cutest thing to see him like that.

You rose slightly from the bed, pushing his chest back now, almost to where you were lying before.

You knew it was now your turn to make him feel good. More than he was.

As you gently pushed him back, reversing your positions, he let out a low growl, but he didn't protest.

He leaned against the wall, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

He looked absolutely wrecked.

His hair disheveled from your hands, his face flushed, his body thruming with need.

All that for you.

You straddled his hips, sitting on top of him and relishing the position of power you suddenly found yourself in.

Your hands roamed over his chest and bare torso, feeling the firm metal muscles. You could feel the heat radiating off him. His systems were beginning to overheat.

You leaned down, peppering kisses along his neck and jawline, enjoying the way he responded to your touch.

He leaned his head back against the wall, exposing more of his neck to your touch, a low, guttural groan escaping from his throat as your lips and tongue traced a path along his sensitive skin.

His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as you kissed along his neck and jaw.

He let out a low moan when you nibbled on his earlobe.

He was coming to terms with the new sensation of being underneath you.

He was used to taking charge in many situations, but something about letting you take the lead seemed different.

He liked it.

He needed it.

His moans and groans were music to your ears, showing you how much he was enjoying your touches.

His breath was becoming ragged, and his hands held onto your hips tightly, as if anchoring himself.

"Darlin'," he gasped out, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you.

Your hands began to wander lower, tracing the line of his abdomen and feeling the metal muscles twitch under your touch.

As your hands reached the waistband of his pants, you paused and looked up at him.

"Can I?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded eagerly, his eyes dark with desire.

He was more than willing to let you continue.

His eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, and his body was taut with tension.

"Yes," he managed to say, his voice thick with need, "Please."

You tugged on the waistband of his trousers, and he lifted his hips to help you pull them down.

He was begging you, and he didn't care.

As you slid them down his legs, you couldn't help but notice the evidence of his arousal straining against his boxers.

Oh, you forgot that could happen.

You remember that at his request, you made a modification to his robotic body.

Specifically a synthetic limb.

It was one of your best modifications as it was also connected to the nerves that you also gave him. Not to say that his blue blood would help bring it to life when he had to go into action.

You didn't really think you could test if it really worked.

Would you be the first to see if it worked properly? You didn't know.

You hadn't really thought much about it before. After all, it was just a standard modification that you had done. But now, as you saw the physical evidence of his arousal, you couldn't help but wonder if it would work as intended.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when he groaned loudly, drawing your attention back to him.

You had started touching his length over his underwear without even realising it.

With just the touch of you, you were surprised to feel the slight warmth that came from it.

He inhaled sharply at the touch, his body tensing even more.

"Please," he repeated, his voice hoarse, "I need you. I need you so bad."

You smiled at their pleas, apparently it was a very good idea to amplify the sensitivity around the area.

He was already a mess, and you had barely touched him yet.

His gasps and moans filled the room, and his eyes were dark with desire.

You could see how badly he needed you, how much he wanted you.

He was begging you, pleading with you to touch him more.

You looked down at the noticeable bulge in his boxers and then back up at his face.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured, "So needy."

He let out another gasp, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch him through the fabric.

After a while of appreciating the good view you had, you pulled down his underwear, revealing his length.

His breath hitched as you pulled his underwear down, exposing him to your view.

He felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but he didn't care.

"Oh god," you blurted out at the sight of his limb.

At first glance you could tell it was working properly.

You were kind of proud of it.

He shuddered at your words, the sensation of your eyes on him enough to make his body shiver.

He was so sensitive, so receptive to your every touch, and it was all thanks to your modifications.

You moved down towards his arousal, cupping it with your hands and releasing light kisses that went from base to tip.

He let out a guttural moan as you kissed him, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through his body.

Your touch was light and teasing, driving him wild with need.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's so good," he gasped out, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch and tease him.

He was putty in your hands, completely at your mercy.

He had never felt this way before, completely surrendered to another person.

And he loved every second of it.

He looked down at you, his gaze full of desire and need.

Without waiting too long, you licked his tip, without taking your eyes off his face.

You were beginning to like the way he was moving beneath you.

He groaned loudly at the feeling of your tongue on his tip, his body arching slightly off the bed.

He couldn't believe the feelings you were invoking in him.

He felt like he was on fire.

He needed more your mouth, more of your touch, more of you.

He reached down, tangling his fingers in your hair, trying to hold himself.

To that, you smiled.

And, without further delay, you shoved as much of his length as you could into your mouth.

His entire body trembled as you took him into your mouth.

He could barely believe how good it felt, how good you felt.

"Oh god," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening.

He was completely lost in the sensations you were giving him, unable to think clearly.

He felt like he was on the brink of explosion, barely holding on.

Your mouth felt like heaven against him.

You continued, lowering and raising your head, while also moving your hands up and down his length.

You looked up at him from time to time, just to watch him come completely undone.

His face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open and panting.

His breathing was ragged, and he was making little gasps and moans that sounded like a mixture of your name and incoherent praise.

He was a mess, and it was all your doing.

He was completely under your control, and he loved every second of it.

His breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps, and he was clinging onto you like a lifeline.

His body was trembling, his systems threatening to overheat.

"I'm close," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening even more.

He was teetering on the edge, completely at your mercy.

"Please," he panted, "Please don't stop."

You loved the way he was begging you, the way he was completely at your mercy.

You didn't stop, if anything you increased the pace, determined to push him over the edge.

His grip on you grew tighter as he got closer and closer to the brink.

"Oh, swetheart," he groaned, his voice thick with need, "I can't- I'm gonna-"

And, before I reached my limit, your movements stopped, ceasing to suck his length.

You laughed lightly, catching your breath for a moment as you watched him frown in frustration.

He stared at you, his body still shaking with need, his breathing ragged.

He looked completely wrecked, and he was not happy that you had stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" he gasped out, his voice full of frustration and need.

He was so close, so damn close.

He needed you.

But you just smiled at him, enjoying the way he was squirming beneath you.

You smiled as you stood up a little, stretching your back.

"Patience, sweetheart." You somewhat mockingly repeated his words he gave you moments before.

He groaned in frustration, his body still thrumming and begging for release.

He wanted you, he needed you desperately.

How could you be so cruel?

He watched as you stood there in front of him, your smirk making him even more frustrated.

"You're a tease," he grumbled, his voice rough with need.

You positioned yourself on his lap, without sitting down.

With one of your hands you cupped his cheek, as you placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"You were a good boy."

His breath hitched as you cupped his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, despite his frustration.

Your words made him shiver, the praise stirring something in him.

"I was," he murmured, his voice slightly pouty.

He was still needy, still on edge, but he loved the way you were handling him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close, as he nuzzled your neck, breathing in your scent.

"Can I have my reward now?" he murmured against your skin.

"Heh, of course you do." You said, as with one of your free hands you grabbed his length, positioning the tip at your entrance.

He gasped at the feel of your hand on him, and he held onto you tighter.

He was so sensitive, every touch sending sparks through his senses.

"You're so perfect…," he whispered, his breath hot on your skin.

As he felt you position him at your entrance, he felt a shiver of anticipation. He needed you, he needed to be inside you.

He was on the brink of losing his mind from desire and need.

"Please," he pleaded, "Please don't make me wait any longer."

You smiled, as you slowly tried to make his length spill inside you.

Which in itself was difficult and painful for you, as this was your first time.

He could feel how tight you were, and he felt a pang of desire mixed with guilt.

As you tried to take him in, he noticed your slight discomfort, and he immediately stopped you.

He looked up at you, concern in his gaze, and he gently lifted you off him.

"Sweetheart, are you alright? You're hurtin'," he asked, his voice filled with worry.

He was still needy and desperate, but he didn't want to hurt you.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin, as he watched you intently.

You tried to hide your discomfort, but he saw right through it.

His concern and tenderness made you feel warm all over.

"I'm fine," you said, trying to downplay the pain you were feeling.

"I just need a moment to adjust," you added, a slight tremble in your voice.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for any signs of discomfort.

He gently caressed your leg, his fingers tracing light circles on your skin.

"We can do it slowly, without pressure, my dear" he said, his voice gentle.

Your body relaxed at his words, grateful for his understanding and patience. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He took his time, gently guiding himself inside you once again, with great care.

He was still sensitive, craving your touch, but his main priority was ensuring that you were comfortable.

He slowly pushed himself in, his eyes locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort.

He could see the mixture of pain and pleasure on your face, the way you chewed your lips, trying to hide your discomfort.

He continued to move slowly and gently, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. You took deep breaths, trying to relax and get used to the feeling.

It was slow, and it hurt, but having him be attentive and considerate, made you feel safe.

As he gently slid further in, the pain began to subside, replaced by an unfamiliar but not unpleasant feeling. He stopped once he was fully inside you, pausing for a moment.

He leaned in, placing gentle kisses on your face, trying to soothe you.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice tender and worried, his gaze fixed on you.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and gave him a small nod to let him know it was ok to continue.

His gentle and patient manner was making your heart flutter, and the way he watched you with such care made you feel even more connected to him.

"Y'know, sweetheart? This is my first time too." He said, still not moving.

He tucked one of your hairs behind your ear. As he placed several kisses on your cheeks in an affectionate way.

You blinked in surprise at his words, not expecting that revelation.

You really thought he would have done this many times by now because of the way he behaved, you were wrong apparently.

The realization that this was his first time too, and that he was just as nervous and uncertain, added a new layer of intimacy to the moment.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, and gave him a gentle smile.

"I didn't know." you said, your voice soft, "You're being so kind and patient with me."

Then you reached up, running a hand through his hair, feeling its texture and smoothness between your fingers.

He nuzzled into your touch, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation.

He felt a little vulnerable admitting that it was his first time too, worried you might think less of him. But the way you smiled at him, the warm touch of your hand on his cheek, made any anxiety melt away.

He leaned into your touch, enjoying the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. It was soothing and grounding, helping to steady his racing thoughts and nerves.

He gently began to move again, slowly and carefully, still watchful of your reaction.

He watched as you ran your hands through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"Besides, I wanna make sure you're enjoying this just as much as I am." He whispered, his breath warm on your skin.

You shivered as he began to move again, the gentle friction sending small tremors through your body.

The way he was moving inside you was still a bit uncomfortable, but the pain was beginning to fade and be replaced by a different kind of sensation.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensations you were feeling. He was being so considerate, taking his time and making sure you were comfortable.

His words made you smile, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

"I am enjoying it," you replied, "more than I ever imagined it could be."

Your hand continued to run through his hair, and you pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his.

His heart skipped a beat as you pulled him closer, a warmth spreading through his chest.

He was relieved and happy to hear that you were enjoying it. All he wanted was for you to feel good and safe with him.

He continued to move gently, trying to find a pace that was pleasurable for both of you.

He relished in the feeling of your hand in his hair, and he loved the way your body felt against his own.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could lose myself in you forever."

He leaned in, kissing your neck and collarbone. He opened his mouth to bite your neck, leaving a mark much more noticeable than the others he had left on your thighs.

The feeling of his mouth on your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft gasp as he bit down.

You could feel his teeth sinking into your skin, and you knew it would leave a mark, a reminder of this moment.

You tilted your head back, giving him more access to your neck, silently encouraging him.

The sensation was a mixture of pleasure and pain, but you didn't mind. It felt possessive.

Claiming. You wanted him to claim you, to make sure that everyone knew that you were his.

You arched your back, pressing closer against him, encouraging him to continue.

"Please," you murmured, your voice low and wanton. "Don't stop."

He was sensitive, and the feel of you around him was almost overbearing.

He felt your body arch against his, your voice low and pleading, and it made him shiver with desire.

He loved the way you reacted to his touch, the way you leaned into him and asked for more.

Hearing the words "Don't stop" spill from your lips was like music to his ears.

He continued his assault on your neck, his mouth moving to new spots, nibbling and biting and sucking, marking you as his own.

Instinctively he moved his hand to one of your breasts, pulling the tip and massaging it.

He began to move a little faster, a little deeper, his pleasure increasing. He groaned against your skin.

The feel of his hand on your breast sent ripples of pleasure through your body, your breath catching in your throat as he teased and played with your nipple.

The combination of his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast was almost overwhelming. You let out a soft moan, arching your back in response.

As he began to move faster and deeper, you felt a wave of sensations wash over you. The pain had faded, replaced by a pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced.

You could feel him beginning to lose himself.

Unconsciously, your hand moved down to your clit, touching yourself as you moved your hips slightly with his every movement.

That increased the pleasure you felt, making your inner walls clench at his length.

He looked down at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and awe.

He was lost in you, drowning in your scent, your touch, the way you moved against him, the sounds you made. He couldn't get enough of you.

As he watched you touch yourself, his breath caught in his throat. Seeing you give yourself pleasure while he was inside you was an image he was sure to never forget.

He groaned, unable to keep his own pleasure contained.

"You're so perfect, sweetheart," he gasped out, his words interrupted by his ragged breaths.

He kept moving, faster and deeper, his mouth never leaving your neck. Every gasp and moan that escaped your lips only spurred him on.

Every movement, every touch, every breath felt like a shock to your body.

You were lost in the sensations, your mind unable to form coherent thoughts.

"Please," you panted, "Please, I need you-"

You weren't sure how much more you could take, the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

The combination of his words, his touch, and his movements were making it hard for you to think straight.

Your mind was swirling with sensation, and you couldn't focus on anything but the feel of him inside you, and the pleasure he was bringing you.

One of your hands grabbed onto his hair, the other one still rubbing your clit. A constant stream of soft moans and gasps was falling from your lips.

He walked away from your neck, having left countless marks all over the area.

His face could not have been redder at that moment.

The sight of him with narrowed eyes, tilting his head back and mouth open, trying to formulate sentences and words that would not come out, being replaced with incoherent sounds.

It was simply a delight for you.

He tried to form a coherent sentence, but the words were escaping him. His mind was consumed with desire, his body on the brink of ecstasy.

You knew he was entering his climax, as his movements became somewhat erratic and slightly sloppy.

And, him doing so, hit your g-spot.

He was losing control, his body moving on its own, driven by pure animalistic need. He wanted to hold on, to make this moment last, but he knew he was reaching his limit.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

He looked at you, trying to steady his breathing and speak. But all that came out were ragged gasps and incoherent sounds.

"I wanna-" he pleaded.

For that, your eyes were full of tears of pleasure.

You could feel him reaching his limit, the way his breathing was growing more labored and uneven.

The way he was trying to speak, but unable to form words, only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You were lost in the sensations, your body on fire. Each movement, each gasp from him was driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," he pleaded once again, his voice ragged and needy, "can I…?"

His words trailed off, but you knew what he was asking for. And you were more than willing to give it to him.

You could see the desperation in his eyes. He wanted, no - needed to release.

He was on the edge, and you were right there with him.

You could feel him getting close, his movements becoming more uncoordinated, his breaths coming in short gasps.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling.

You were so close yourself, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. You could feel it building deep inside, like a coil winding tighter and tighter.

He turned his lips to yours, both of you stifling your moans and groans.

He moved his lips against yours, his tongue tracing your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

You parted your lips, allowing him in. The kiss was messy and needy, both of you clinging to each other in search of more contact.

He let out a low moan against your mouth. He tried to hold back, to draw out the moment a little longer, but he was too far gone.

He looked into your eyes, his gaze pleading.

"I'm gonna-" he gasped out, his voice strained.

But he couldn't finish the sentence. He was completely lost in the sensation, the pleasure almost overwhelming him.

He buried his face into your neck, his body shivering against yours, as he held on to you tightly.

"I'm gonna-" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel him on the edge, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He was close, and so were you.

"Me too," you breathed out, your voice trembling with need, "I'm so close. Please-"

You gripped onto him.

He moved his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.

And so, giving a few more deep penetrations, he reached his release. At the same time as you, as he pressed hard on your sweet spot, he made you come without hesitation.

As the waves of pleasure washed over him, he shuddered against you.

He let out a guttural moan, his body tensing up, as he released himself deep inside you.

He held onto you tightly, as he rode out the waves of pleasure. His eyes were closed, his breathing labored.

He tried to speak, to form words, but the only sound that came out were unintelligible gasps and moans.

For a few moments, you both were lost in the intensity of the moment. All that could be heard was the sound of your erratic breaths.

He collapsed against you, his body trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his breaths ragged and heavy.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, as if afraid to let go. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. You both laid there, your bodies tangled together, simply enjoying the afterglow.

His breathing slowly returned to normal, his body relaxed against yours.

He lifted his head from your neck, looking down at you.

"You're so amazing," he murmured, his voice husky.

He cupped your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. His eyes were soft and filled with tenderness.

"That was…" he trailed off, unable to find the words.

He let out a low chuckle.

"There are no words to describe how incredible that was."

You let out a shaky breath, a sated smile on your face.

You smiled weakly, still feeling a little boneless from the intense pleasure.

"Yeah," you agreed.

But you couldn't find the words either.

"Intense" was an understatement.

You turned your face into his hand, nuzzling into his palm, enjoying the feel of his cold skin against yours.

"I felt the same way," you replied, your voice soft and gentle.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. "Absolutely perfect."

He shifted slightly, pulling out of you with a soft groan.

He gently placed you on the bed as he leaned further back on the bed, no longer sitting up.

He pulled one of the blankets off the bed and placed it over his body, then took you in his arms, placing you on top of him, making it slightly more comfortable for you than just being pressed against his metal body.

He pressed you against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

For a few moments, you both lay there in silence, enjoying the closeness and the feel of each other's bodies.

His arms cradled you spectacularly, in an attempt to make your body try to unwind from the previous physical activity. Then he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and soothing.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You lay on top of him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

His fingers were gentle as they threaded through your hair.

When he spoke, you could hear the concern in his voice.

You shook your head, lifting your face to look up at him.

"No, you didn't hurt me," you assured him. "You were perfect."

You shifted slightly, snuggling deeper against him.

"Now I'm just very tired.."

He chuckled softly, hearing you say that you were tired.

He continued running his fingers through your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your scalp.

"Exhausted, huh? I take that as a compliment."

He smiled, feeling a sense of pride that he had managed to tire you out so thoroughly.

He gently shifted under you, making himself more comfortable beneath you.

"You can sleep, sweetheart. I'll be right here."

He covered you with the blanket you were on top of, making sure you didn't get cold.

You melted into his touch, the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing and relaxing.

You let out a soft laugh, a little delirious from the lack of energy.

You snuggled against him, feeling more relaxed than ever before.

His touch was soothing, his fingers in your hair creating tingles on your scalp.

You let out a small sigh, feeling the exhaustion start to wash over you.

"Thanks," you murmured, your eyes drifting shut as you nuzzled against his chest.

He chuckled again as he felt you relax against him, your body sinking into his embrace.

He continued to lightly massage your scalp, knowing that it would help you fall asleep faster.

He felt your breath start to slow, your body growing heavier in his arms.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him.

"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered.

Your eyes opened slowly, getting a little used to the light coming through the window.

Attempting to stretch out, you felt trapped.

You looked up, seeing Boothill lying there. His eyes were closed.

Perhaps he was recharging his battery, you looked down again.

As your eyes cleared, you saw your legs and torso almost uncovered, which caused you to wake up completely.

You felt an incredible heaviness throughout your body, as if every bone and joint ached.

Mentally recoiling in an attempt to remember why, your eyes opened wide.

You'd had sex with him, in someone else's house, out loud. Your face turned red, "what a shame," you thought.

You sighed, leaning your head back on his chest.

Oh, but before you could try to get any more sleep, your hand reached as far as it could to your trousers, which were at one end of the bed.

When you managed to reach them, you pulled out your phone, going straight into the chat with your roommate.

You deleted the incomplete message you didn't get to send yesterday, typed in a new one and then proceeded to send it.

It read; "I rode a cowboy".

The chat almost immediately began to fill up with messages, none of which you read, proceeding to toss your phone to the side, closing your eyes again.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

How would Vil take their partner being discouraging about being intimate with them because their partner is insecure about their body, compared to how Vil's body is?

I'm sorry if that has been asked before or if it's weird, I was really really curious cause I have an idea but I want to see how others think as well!

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil is very direct as a person and as a partner, his communication direct on the topic. He doesn’t like the implication that you don’t like your body because you’re comparing it to his; it almost felt like an excuse. He’s aware that not a lot of people put as much effort into their appearance as he did but it also felt like you were doubting him and his taste, because he had been the one to choose you as his partner, hadn’t he? He understands that it can be hard and that being overly critical can lead to behavior that’s not productive, but he doesn’t want it to be that way forever.

He would ask if you have a plan and how he could help you with it. Did you want to get in better shape? He could help you come up with a regimen that fit your needs and wouldn’t be too hard on you (and he could even work out with you if you’d like). Were you just looking to increase your confidence in your body the way it was? He wouldn’t mind complimenting you more often because, as he had already said, he thought you were attractive as you were but would never deny you if you felt you needed to improve yourself. Confidence is key in a lot of scenarios and he hoped you two could figure out a way to build your confidence so you no longer felt hesitant during intimate moments.

You can be assured when Vil compliments the things he likes about you, from your personality to your physical features, that he’s not lying. He’d never tell you something was attractive when it wasn’t, never one to hide his distaste if you wore an outfit that didn’t quite suit you or make-up that was a little too heavy. He was gentle but firm when it came to you, again willing to help if you needed it but allowing you the room to figure out what you wanted on your own.

[jinnie-ret]

9th member reader passing out on stage during tour because theyve been pushing themselves hard for the tour. forgetting to eat sometimes, pushing themselves in the gym, pushing themselves during practice (not in a punishing themselves way just a getting caught up in the work and not realising how harsh theyre being on themselves way). it all just gets too much during a concert and they just drop, maybe one of the boys catch her before she can hit the floor too hard. the boys beating themselves up a bit for not noticing how hard they were pushing themselves.

don't push yourself

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: reader not taking care of herself

word count: 2.1k

summary: you thought you were doing the right thing for yourself, but it was only a matter of time before your habits became unhealthy, and the boys didn't even notice until it was too late.

Here it is! I hope you enjoy it! :))

Asks are currently shut!

But let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist and reblog if you enjoyed! <3

MAIN MASTERLIST

With an early rise, there was bound to be a fall at some point.

Whether that was into your bed, when you finally returned back to the dorms from a late night practice; on the sofa of Chan's studio; or to the stage floor of the concert you were rehearsing for.

But we'll get to that later.

The boys hadn't noticed at the start what you had been doing to yourself. You were being more strict with your diet, going to the gym every morning with Changbin, and staying longer at practice. They just saw it as you being their fellow determined member who was trying to improve your health.

And yes, you were seeing improvements, quickly, in fact. But it wasn't healthy. Not that you knew that.

"You should have seen her! She lifted 70kg today!" Changbin boasted with pride, arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both returned from the gym.

Han and Hyunjin had been eating breakfast in the kitchen upon your arrival, so it was the perfect audience for Changbin to show you off to. Chan was probably already at the studio.

"70kg?! I think you can lift more than me now... I can't even lift a spoon," Han laughs.

"Our Han is so squishy," Hyunjin said in an over the top voice and started poking his stomach and arms.

"Yah! Yah!" Han laughed loudly as he shoved Hyunjin away, all four of you laughing.

"Come on, Y/Nnie, show us those muscles of yours," Hyunjin made grabby hands towards your arms, so in return you tensed.

"Woah, your muscles are so big now!" Han's eyes widened.

"Yes I'm secretly training to beat you all up," you did your best to tiredly joke.

"Not much of a secret, plus, you could never beat me," Changbin smirked, ruffling your hair as he went to take a shower.

"Wanna test that theory?" you called after him, pretending to march along the same path he took to his room.

It was easier then, to joke around and act like everything was normal, because you were yet to spiral.

"Y/Nnie? What are you doing here?" Jeongin questioned confused as you walked into the apartment he shared with Seungmin, Felix and Lee Know. You must have not only grabbed the wrong key, but walked back from JYP to the wrong apartment.

"Huh? Innie? Oh, I must have gone to the wrong place," you mumble tiredly, putting your bag down nonetheless.

"You look exhausted... it's 1am! What are you doing up?" Jeongin stood up to analyse your tired figure, one that had also changed from you becoming stricter in yourself.

"I just came back from practising... what are you still doing up?" you looked up at the maknae, poking his cheek lazily.

"From practice? At this time? I was just watching some show on TV," he shrugged, tugging you to sit down next to him.

"What's going on?" a sleepy Felix rubbed his eyes as he entered the lounge, jumping back slightly when he noticed you were there.

"I'm not that scary looking am I, Lixie?" you managed to tease, your head rested against Jeongin's shoulder.

"No! No... I was just shocked to see you're here, why aren't you at the other apartment, did you have an argument?" Felix joined you on the sofa, stealing some of the blanket you and Jeongin had.

"She's so tired she came back to the wrong place," Jeongin laughed, rubbing your head.

"Wah! Y/N you're the first to do that out of us all!" Felix giggled.

"Shouldn't have given me a spare key," you yawned as you stretched your arms, wincing when you did so.

"I'm glad we did by the looks of it, did you push yourself?" Felix brushed some hair out of your face after seeing your pained expression.

"No, no, it's nothing like that..." you trailed off.

"Then what is it?" Jeongin began, "if you didn't push yourself then what is it? Did you not get any sleep last night?"

"I guess so..." you complied with his theories in aid of not having to reveal what you had really been doing.

Surely this wasn't a bad thing though? The concern in their voices was beginning to make you feel differently but you know you were only doing this to better yourself.

"Ah you need to be more careful," Felix tsked, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

"You can't burrito me to death," you tried to fight against the Aussie that was currently swaddling you.

"Oh, but I can."

Another night, you were back at your apartment (the right one) and were currently cooking yourself dinner as everyone else had already eaten. With a pyjama vest and shorts on, it was weird to think how you hadn't noticed the bruises that painted your muscles.

"Ah you're awake now, wait, what happened?" Chan entered the kitchen, happy to see you were awake but alarmed at the sight of your arms.

"Huh? What do you mean?" you questioned as you chopped some veggies.

"Your arms, they've got bruises, lots of them, what happened? Did someone do this to you?" Chan interrogated you all of a sudden.

"What?! No!" you glanced down at your arms and sighed, no wonder they ached so much. "I've just been working out a lot more."

"This looks like a hell of a lot more, you sure you're taking it easy? I mean, I know you go to the gym with Changbin now but that doesn't mean you have to try and match him," Chan sighed, unable to take his eyes off of the purple marks on you.

"Hey, my eyes are up here," you laughed, nudging Chan.

"Y/N..." he sighed, not in the mood for joking around when he could see that you were hurt.

"Chan, it's fine. My body just probably isn't used to it yet, but look, I'm sticking to a good plan, I've got veggies and chicken breast in so I'm getting in my gains like a proper gym bro," you laugh.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're at least eating, just, take it easy, yeah?" he smiled then, patting your back as he returned to presumably his room.

You thought your mind was getting stronger, but your body was getting weaker. Practising had taken priority over your eating.

"Let's go one more time," Lee Know instructed everyone, watching the moves of his members with sharp eyes at the mirror as he danced at the front.

And to your disdain, you stumbled.

"Shit," you put a hand to your forehead, feeling disappointed in yourself.

"Our Y/Nnie can't keep on her own two feet," Lee Know teased, but upon seeing that your expression didn't change at his light-hearted joke, he came over to you.

"Hey, it's ok, I was just kidding," he tried to bend slightly to look into your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just, wanna get it right, you know?" you sighed.

"I've seen you perform this dance amazingly multiple times, don't be so harsh on yourself," he nodded at you before returning to the front of the mirror.

But how could you not be harsh on yourself when everything needed to be perfect?

"Woah, I'm impressed, I've never seen you got a note like that!" Seungmin applauded you on one of your duo vlives.

Fans flooded the comments spamming hearts and mentioning how impressed they also were at you, being a rapper of the group, hitting high notes.

"I've been practising," you waved him off, hiding your face shyly

"Yeah, with who? Ailee sunbaenim?!" he tried to peek at your hoodie covered face.

"Woah you can't compare me to Ailee sunbaenim!" you laughed at him.

You continued to sing together, yet at the end you were getting breathless. And so, after the vlive ended, Seungmin couldn't help but bring it up.

"You sounded pretty breathless at the end..."

"I know, I know, I need to do better," you sighed.

"No it's not that! I'm just a bit worried about you..." he brushed off your doubts.

"Why? I'm fine," you shrugged him off.

"Ok, whatever you say, just take care of yourself, yeah?" he allowed you to brush away his doubts the same way he did to yours, as you both left the company.

And so this cycle of constantly trying to go past the boundaries of your limits continued. All the way into your second concert of your Maniac World Tour.

It had all been going so well. Everyone was on an adrenaline rush and loving the crowd's support. Apart from you. Your body was slowly but surely bound to shut down eventually, you just wished it didn't happen with your stays so happy, because you knew as soon as you hit the floor, you would have taken that away.

"Y/Nnie!!!" screamed the fans as your body slumped and didn't get back up.

The members instantly turned to where you had been performing. It hadn't even been a high energy choreo, because this time, you were simply moving around the stage to interact more with the fans.

You would have scolded yourself if you had a single coherent thought in your exhausted state.

"Somebody help!" Chan worriedly waved over some staff from backstage as they lifted you off.

"Please excuse us stays, everything will be ok, we will be back with you in a moment," Lee Know hurriedly tried to calm the crowd of tearful stays before rushing after his fellow members who surrounded you.

"Come on, Y/N, wake up," Hyunjin patted your face, trying to help you come back to reality.

"Hmmm," you groaned, a pounding feeling in your head.

"Oh thank God!" Han sighed in relief, hand on his quickly beating heart.

"What happened?" you mumbled tiredly as you were sat up by two staff members who fanned you and handed you some water with a straw to sip from.

"You just collapsed out there!" Felix said with wide eyes.

"Oh," you simply said, not wanting to confront what could have happened to you.

"Oh? Just, oh? Y/N, what happened out there?" Chan sternly said from next to you, squeezing your hand to offer reassurance despite his strict demeanor.

"I don't know... One second I was talking to the fans and the next..."

"You... you haven't been taking care of yourself have you?" Hyunjin burst out with his question, unable to hold back his words no longer.

"I have, I've been going to the gym, I've been practising hard-" you began, before you were cut off.

"How didn't I realise?" Changbin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Realise what, hyung?" Seungmin asked curiously.

"Y/N, please tell me you've been eating and not living off of those energy drinks I see you have every morning," Changbin crouched down in front of you, begging that he was wrong in thinking that.

"Yeah, I ate dinner, umm, it was when, ummm," you stumbled on your words, unable to remember the last time you ate a proper meal.

And that is when you felt like you failed. You had been doing so well but you couldn't even stick to your plan.

"You can't even remember when you last ate?" Lee Know looked around at the concerned gazes of his other members.

"I'm sorry I don't know why, I... I just wanted to do better," you bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears.

"There are so many better ways to go about it Y/Nnie," Jeongin sighed, rubbing your knee soothingly.

"I'm sorry we didn't notice," Felix said regretfully.

"No, no, please don't apologise, this is on me," you mentally kicked yourself.

"How long, Y/N?" Chan insisted on your response.

"Maybe... 2 months?" you wondered out loud.

They all gasped and shared different responses at your answer.

"Y/Nnie that's not good for you, no wonder you were seeming more tired..." Hyunjin looked away.

"I'm sorry, I really am, I never wanted to worry you all," you apologised sadly, and that is when some stray tears fell delicately down your cheeks.

"We will always worry, you're part of our team," Seungmin bluntly said, yet you could still see the compassion behind his eyes.

"Don't push yourself so hard next time, yeah? Let us know next time and we can help you figure out a way to do this more healthily, just talk to us next time, yeah?" Chan wiped your tears away as Changbin wrapped you in a hug you didn't realise you needed so badly.

"I promise," you whispered, yet everyone heard it amongst the sounds of the crowd, and if they didn't, they still felt the words hanging in the air, a vow that next time, you would take care of yourself, and that they'd always be there to take care of you too.

tagged: @skz-streamer @han-jiquokka @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @kiraisastay

[mentos-or-mentoes]

Helluva Boss x Insomniac! Reader. Headcanons

With: Asmodeus, Fizzarolli, Stolas and Loona

Asmodeus

Asmodeus runs a nightclub type establishment. (Or atleast i think thats what Ozzies is). So he's used to being up late.

He does take note of you, always seeming to be awake, no matter the time.

Doesn't really do much, because as long as nothing really seems to be wrong he won't want to bother you about it.

Is kinda sad he doesn't get to sleep with you as much tho (In the cuddly kind not the sexual kind).

One day decides to ask you about it, mainly from curiosity.

When you tell him that you're an insomniac he kinda gets surprised.

But after thinking about it he does kinda think he should have realized earlier.

Will try to stay up with you on the nights where he doesn't have to do much the next day (Which is rarely).

Fizzarolli

Fizz has alot of energy some times, and on thoose days he does have difficulty sleeping.

Usually just rubs one out or has some ''fun time'' with you, or just alone.

He does however notice that on the same nights he can't sleep, neither can you.

When you do tell him that you're an insomniac (if he didn't already put 2 and 2 together). He'll likely ask something along the lines of, ''So whats keepin' ya up babes?''

Will cuddle with you if you'd prefer to do that in order to try and fall asleep.

Might suggest some medication for falling asleep. Or try and get drunk as hell with you.

Sometimes will wrap his arms around you if he feels like you've been getting too little sleep.

Loona

She has a habit of falling asleep at I.M.P when having nothing else to do, or sometimes when she just feels like it.

Is probably the quickest to notice your lack of sleeping.

She will likely ask you about it because its keeping her up at night.

When you tell her about you either really struggeling with getting sleep or just not being able to sleep at all, she gets uhhhh, a bit confused.

Like how can you NOT fall asleep at that boring office, or in a comfortable bed?

Will rarely pick you up so she can lay with you while she sleeps, and hopefully have you fall asleep as well.

She once tried to play some music and stuff to try and see if that helped.

She to awoke to some shitty song and her phone reccomending more of said shitty songs.

Just kinda accepts that you don't fall asleep nowadays.

Not like its gonna prevent her from sleeping either.

Stolas

Stolas has a giant comfy bed, so why he finds you awake at 3 am in the kitchen just doing whatever, is something thats on his mind.

Will ask you about it being concerned that you might be having nightmares or something keeping you awake.

If you do tell him about your insomnia, he will be a bit relieved that you aren't awakening from nightmares.

Allthough he might be wondering if something is keeping you up unless you clarify that to him.

Will try to use spells to see if that helps you, if you want to try it out.

if not then cuddles will do.

He LOVES cuddles.

If you cant sleep then can you atleast cuddle untill he falls asleep? He would like it if you did.

Stolas will try anything and everything to help you sleep, if you wanna go to sleep that is.

If not then he'll be content once he realizes that you'll always be there, if he has a nightmare or just wants a lil kiss.

(Sorry for if you guys wanted a different character but im not trying to spend eternity writing for every character i can think of rn. Also sorry if they arent too accurate, i will accept any criticism and try to improve).

Requests are open. So ask if you want

[earthchica]

Right My Wrongs | 4

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: A year and a half later, the family dynamics have significantly improved, and you and Terry have experienced much growth. The three of you go on a fun camping trip.

warning: fluff, camping trip, stargazing, slight angst, light explicit smut (18+), fingering, pussy play, dirty talking, breeding kink & etc.

note: the last part is here, and this is a long one; thank you all for your love for this mini-series. <3

series masterlist

You can't help but smile as you watch Terry and Jasmine singing together in the kitchen while preparing breakfast.

This has become a delightful routine over the past year. Terry often comes over and cooks for the two of you.

Whether it's breakfast or dinner, he did it, and also, sometimes, he'll help you around the house or run errands.

The family dynamics have improved significantly and have experienced much growth, especially in Terry.

He has always been a great father to Jasmine; there was no doubting that.

It was just nice to have him leading and guiding equally in the household.

Now that you two have been in a romantic relationship for almost a year and a half, he has shown you a different side of him.

After some time, you decided to ask Terry to live with you and Jasmine.

“Good morning, my loves,” you said, walking into the kitchen with a big smile.

Terry turned around, his eyes lighting up.

“Good morning, baby,” He greeted you with a kiss on the lips and a warm hug.

"Morning, Mommy," Jasmine said, smiling happily before looking between her parents.

She was so happy to finally see you two together.

"We made you pancakes," he proudly announced, gesturing toward the stack of butter-up pancakes.

Jasmine grinned and nodded enthusiastically, adding, "And I helped with the bacon and eggs, Mommy!"

Her excitement was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at how much she had grown.

"Thank you, sweetheart. You did a good job; both of you did. It looks delicious," you replied, cupping her cheek affectionately.

As you all sat down at the table, the room filled with the warm aroma of freshly cooked pancakes, crispy bacon, and salt and pepper cheese eggs.

Conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter, and shared stories from the week.

Moments like these reminded you how glad you and Terry worked out and the strength and love that bound your little family together.

After breakfast, Jasmine dashed off to prepare for the day, leaving you and Terry in the kitchen.

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I was thinking," he began, his deep voice gentle yet filled with excitement.

"Maybe we could go on a camping trip...just the three of us...I know how you feel about the outdoors, but I think it would be fun."

"You're right; you know me, baby! Sister can't deal with the bugs and heat," you said playfully.

"But that sounds great, Terry," you replied, squeezing his hand. Terry smiled, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

"So you wanna go? We can go this weekend, and I know the perfect spot for us to camp at."

"Okay, do you think Jazzy will be excited?" you asked, thinking about how much Jasmine loved exploring new things.

"Hell yeah," Terry chuckled.

"She's been talking about wanting to see the stars and learning how to fish for the longest."

You nodded with a smile, “Okay, let’s go this weekend.” Terry smiled.

-

It was the weekend of the camping trip, and Terry packed the car with a large tent, sleeping bags, camping gear, and plenty of snacks and water for the road.

"Are you excited, sweetie?" you asked, with a smile. Jasmine was already buzzing with excitement, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Yes, mommy. Let's go!!!!!!!" She said, clutching her favorite stuffed animal, ready for the journey ahead.

After a few hours of driving, you arrived at the campsite. Terry expertly navigated the car to a secluded spot by a tranquil lake.

The water shimmered under the afternoon sun so beautifully, inviting and calm.

Jazzy was the first to leap out, her laughter echoing as she ran to the lake's edge.

"Jasmine, girlllll" You jumped out of the car and called her name, holding a bottle of nontoxic bug spray in your hand, before following her.

Terry chuckled, began getting the stuff out of the car, and set up the tent.

Jasmine assisted you in gathering sticks for a campfire. Her determination was so precious that you couldn't help but smile.

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink; you all gathered around the crackling fire.

Jasmine's eyes sparkled with joy as Terry began to tell a story about constellations, pointing out the stars overhead.

“You know....the Big Dipper was the drinking gourd in the South. The two stars at the end of the Big Dipper point to Polaris, the North Star.” He explained.

"That’s cool! Did you hear that, Mommy?" She asked, glancing at you, and you nodded in response.

“I certainly did, sweetie,” you replied with a smile.

Jasmine nodded, returning her focus to her daddy, and after that story, you all enjoyed some delicious s'mores.

The crackling of the fire provided a comforting sound to the night, while the stars above twinkled like a million tiny lanterns, gently lighting the gathering.

Jasmine's eyelids began to droop, and she snuggled closer to you, her head resting gently on your shoulder.

You could feel her little body's warmth and hear her breathing's soft rhythm—a melody more precious than any symphony.

"Time for bed, I think," you whispered, brushing a twisted braid from her forehead.

"Yeah." She nodded sleepily, slowly getting up and giving Terry a goodnight hug.

It looked like she whispered something in his ear before moving towards you.

You entered the tent together, dressed Jasmine in her pajamas, and tucked her into her sleeping bag.

You kissed her goodnight as she murmured, "I love you, Mommy," her voice barely above a whisper.

”I love you too, sweetie," you replied before walking out of the tent to catch Terry slowly throwing flower petals on the ground.

Your gaze shifted to the small table, where a bouquet of your favorite flowers, two glasses filled with wine, and chocolate candies were placed.

Also, romantic music was playing from his Bluetooth speaker. You had no idea Terry was up, but you liked it.

"What are you doing?" You asked with a small smile.

Terry turns to you in surprise. "Shit, you came out faster than I expected." He chuckles.

"Uh...I wanted to do something special for ya," he says, handing you the glass of wine from the table, which you gladly took from him.

You both cuddled on the wide wooden chair, enjoying the wine and the music until your favorite song came on.

Terry got up and held his hand out. “Come on, baby girl, show me those dancing moves,” he said, smiling playfully.

You smiled in return and took his hand; you both swayed to the rhythm, sharing laughter while also being slightly quiet.

“This is how you dance, mama. That's all you need,” he said, demonstrating two steps that made you yawn.

You respond, "No, this is how you do it," you say as you sway your body, performing body rolls and shaking your hips.

“You right, let those hips shine! Hips don't lie, huh?” he chuckles in reply, drawing you closer as the song shifts to a slow tune.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the moment's magic.

The moon cast a silvery glow over the campsite, its light dancing on the leaves and painting intricate patterns on the ground.

“You know I love you, right?” He asked so softly, and you nodded.

“Yeah...I know you do, and I love you too.”

“And you know you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, right? You bring me so much love and happiness; you've been there for me through thick and thin and given me so much at times...I didn't deserve it, but you still gave. I'm so grateful to have you; I thank God every day for sending such an extraordinary woman like you; you are an amazing mother and an amazing girlfriend, and I can't live without you,” He said so passionately.

You nodded, getting a little emotional. “I know, baby, I know. Where are you going with this, Terry?”

“I love you, girl, and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, and it’s only right if we...make this shit official,” he said, getting down on one knee.

You stood there, hand covering your mouth in disbelief, as you watched your dream unfold before your eyes and become a reality.

"Will you marry me, baby, and become Mrs. Richmond?" Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of surprise and overwhelming joy.

The sincerity and love in Terry's eyes were undeniable, and the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response.

You took a deep breath, your heart swelling with happiness, and nodded fervently.

"Yes, a thousand times yes!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with emotion.

Terry smiled and slid the ring onto your finger before pulling you in for a kiss and then into a warm embrace.

“Yay, you did it, Daddy,” she exclaimed. Startled, you turned to see her with her camera out, taking pictures.

"What? Did you two plan this?" you asked in shock. They both laughed, exchanging a knowing glance.

"Well," Terry admitted with a playful shrug, "Jasmine and I might have had a secret mission. We wanted this moment to be perfect for you."

Jasmine giggled and ran over to hug you. "I helped pick the ring, Mommy! Daddy said you would love it."

You gazed down at the beautiful ring on your finger, its sparkle almost as bright as the love you felt in your heart.

"It is perfect, sweetie. You did a good job" you whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace.

The night continued with celebrating this new chapter together. The next morning, the three of you had breakfast, went hiking, and returned to the campsite.

The serene lake glistens under the afternoon sun as you, Terry, and Jasmine are excited to reel in some big catches.

“Alright, princess. Hold it like this, then swing it into the water like this,” he instructed, guiding her hands. 

Jasmine looked a bit anxious. ”I don’t know if I can do it, Daddy.”

“You can do it, Jazzy. I know you can; I’ll be here if anything goes wrong,” he reassured her. 

"Okay," she says. With a determined look, she casts the line. It sailed through the air, landing gently on the lake's shimmering surface.

“Let's go!!!!!,” Terry said, proudly clapping, and she smiled in delight. 

The sun warmed their backs as they waited, and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore created a soothing sound.

After a while, the line tugged slightly, and Jasmine's eyes widened with excitement.

"I think I've got something!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and joy.

Terry moved closer, offering guidance while still allowing her the thrill of the catch.

Slowly, with careful encouragement from Terry and you, she reeled in her first fish—a small salmon fish. 

Her face lit up with pride as you pulled out your phone to take a quick picture of her catch.

“Good Job, sweetie!" you cheered, high-fiving her.

The rest of the camping trip was unforgettable and filled with love, laughter, and the simple joys of being together.

When you returned home from your camping trip, you and Terry immediately announced your engagement to your family and friends.

They are all very happy for both of you, especially your mom. Your parents offered to pay for the entire wedding for you and Terry.

So, a month later, you found yourself dealing with some stress while planning this damn wedding.

Your mom mostly handled all the arrangements, and you just agreed to everything to keep her happy, forgetting it was your wedding.

You did stood your ground with her, about choosing the wedding dress of your dreams.

You smiled happily at yourself in the mirror. This had been the sixth wedding dress you had tried on, and you think this was one.

"Oh my God, this is the one," you said, coming out of the dressing room with tears streaming down your face.

Your mom, your sister, and Jasmine cheered and screamed joyfully before rushing to you and pulling you into a group hug.

"She said yes to the dress!" Your mom blurted out loud in the boutique.

You chuckled and then returned to the dressing room to change your clothes.

Once you were dressed, you came out of the dressing room holding the dress you wanted.

Three of you continued to shop, and you felt your phone vibrate; it was an incoming call from Terry.

A little surprised that he was calling, considering he was with his cousin Mike (he's still alive) and a few of his friends.

You were happy to see his name light up on your screen; he probably missed you.

"Hey, darling," you said sweetly as you approached a secluded area to talk to him.

There was no response, only rustling and faint voices in the background.

"Terry, are you there?" you asked, still waiting for a response, but hearing nothing.

You were about to press the hang-up button when you heard Terry's voice.

"All she does is talk about this damn wedding and has become a fucking bridezilla all because of her mom; like, everything has to be big, over the top, and fancy. It's getting fucking annoying, man"

Your heart sank momentarily as you realized you may have been a bit of a bridezilla, influenced by your mom.

You wonder why Terry couldn't just tell you that, not to his fucking boys.

"So, big dawg, do you still wanna marry her?! Cause if I was you, I wouldn't put up with this bullshit," his friend spoke, you knew who exactly said that.

"Of course I do, but if it continues like this, I don't know," Terry sounded unsure of his answer.

Mike said, "Chill, cuz you're not about to call the wedding off; you love that girl. Just talk to her."

You pressed the hang-up button before they continued their conversation.

Your heart was in your stomach, and you struggled to pull yourself together, unsure if you wanted the dress.

You made an excuse about getting Jasmine home, and the owner of the bridal boutique was nice enough to hold everything for you.

Once you arrived home, you made lunch for yourself and Jasmine, and then the two of you watched a movie together.

About an hour later, you heard the front door open. He walked into the living room and greeted Jasmine with a hug.

"Jazzy, go play in your room. Your dad and I need to talk," you said, looking at her.

"Okay, Mommy," she nodded with a sigh and went upstairs.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong?!" He asked, making his way towards you and going for a kiss, but you tilted your head away from him.

Terry gave you a confused look as his brows furrowed, watching you carefully.

"Baby, are you okay? Did something happen?" He asked, taking off his jacket and throwing it onto the other couch before sitting next to you.

You tried your best to contain yourself but couldn't; you had to express your frustration.

"No, I'm not okay, Terry. You butt-dailed me and I heard everything you said to your cousin and friends. So, do you want this back?" You asked, sliding the engagement ring off of your finger.

Terry clenched his jaw and bowed his head down briefly; the guilt swept through his expression.

"No, I don't want the ring back."

"Oh, really, then what's going on?" you asked, raising your voice slightly.

"Lately, I've been feeling overwhelmed with this shit, and plus, baby, you've been a little of a bridezilla, you and your mom have been...." he said, trailing off on the last part.

"Okay. I understand that, and I'm sorry for my behavior, but you could've told me that, not to your fucking boys. Terry, I love you. We have a daughter, and I want to be your wife. I just need to know before anything goes far. Are you ready to get married?"

"Of course, I am ready, baby! I'm sorry. I should have told ya how I was feeling, but you and your mom kind of made it hard to communicate."

"So it's our fault?" You asked, getting a little defensive, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"No, kind of, maybe! Look, I don't want to fight, I just think we don't need a big, over-the-top wedding to express our love; a small one with family and a few friends wouldn't hurt, don't you think? Shit...it can be it's just you, me, and Jasmine for all I care," He said honestly.

You took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Terry, for making you feel like you couldn't tell me how you felt. I never meant to do that, baby. Plus, you are right. If I was being honest, I was doing it all for my mom 'cause she's paying for the wedding," you said, caressing his face.

"I know, baby. She's gotta understand this is our wedding, not hers. She's married already; maybe you should talk to her," he said softly.

"Yeah, I'm going to talk with her tomorrow," you said with a slight smile.

"So, we good?" he asked with a returning smile, and you nodded, moving to sit on his lap.

"Yeah, we're good, big daddy," you said teasingly, kissing his lips before going to his neck.

"Don't start something you know you can't finish, baby girl." He warned playfully.

With a mischievous giggle, you uttered, "I can finish you in my mouth," you joked, pulling him into another kiss.

The next day, you chatted with your mom, who completely understood that she had overstepped some boundaries.

After three months of re-planning, the day of your and Terry's small, intimate wedding arrived quickly.

You stood in front of the mirror and couldn't help but admire how your wedding dress highlighted your curves.

There was a knock at the door of the bedroom. Jasmine entered wearing a light pink floral dress and a flower crown in her natural hair.

Your dad followed, wearing a grey tuxedo with a light pink rose boutonniere.

You turned around with a huge smile on your face. Jasmine was the first to hug you, followed by your dad.

With a warm smile, she exclaimed, "Mommy, you look so incredibly beautiful."

"Thank you, sweetie. You look so adorable, my little flower girl," you said, swirling her around, which made her giggle.

You glanced at your dad and saw the emotions playing across his face.

"My firstborn has grown up. You look beautiful, sweet pea," your dad says with a proud smile, tears coming down his face.

"Thanks, Dad," you said, tears welling in your eyes. You hesitated to wipe them, not wanting to ruin your makeup.

"Here, Mommy," Jasmine said, handing you a tissue. You thanked her, and then there was another knock on the door.

Your wedding planner came to tell you it was time as she escorted Jasmine, and you gave her a kiss on the cheek as she departed.

"Ready, sweet pea?" your dad asks, holding his arm out. You nod with a smile and take hold of his arm.

The pianist began to play, and everyone stood up, gazing down the line toward you.

You and your dad stepped onto the sand where the flower petals led to the altar.

You took a deep breath and looked at your dad, who had his arm locked to yours.

He smiled and squeezed your arm, and then the two of you began walking down the aisle.

You attempted to pacify your emotions, but to no avail; when your gaze met Terry's, the harsh reality struck you like a ton of bricks.

You were about to marry the love of your life, the father of your child. You had been waiting for this moment your entire life.

Terry looked handsome in his cream tuxedo, smiling from ear to ear and rolling happy tears down his face.

"Dad, you'll catch me up if I bust my ass, right?" You whispered, which made him chuckle, and he gripped your arm tighter.

"Of course, sweet pea," he asked, "feeling nervous?" as you continued down the aisle.

"Nervous and excited," you whispered with a slight smile, and he nodded as you two finally reached the altar.

You step forward, and Terry clears his throat and wipes his eyes. Your dad kisses you on the forehead before placing your hand into Terry’s.

"You look incredible, baby," he murmurs, gently kissing your hand.

You smile as you caress his cheek and whisper, "So do you, handsome man."

The officiant began speaking and swiftly moved through the ceremony, getting to the "I dos" and vows, and finally, you two heard the words.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!" The officiant says with a smile.

Terry pulls you close, his hand wrapping around your waist, as he tenderly cups your cheek and softly presses his lips against yours.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as both of you basked in the moment.

However, you couldn't help but break away from each other, your faces beaming with the unmistakable joy of being deeply in love.

Excitedly, you and Terry turned towards your friends and family; Jasmine rushed up to join you.

Terry picked her up, and together, hand in hand, you all walked down the aisle as husband and wife and as a family.

Right after the lovely reception, you and Terry headed to your honeymoon suite for the night.

When you entered the room, you couldn't resist each other. You unbuttoned his shirt while he unzipped your dress, and you jumped out.

You kissed him as your hands went to unbutton his pants, and pushed them down.

Terry kicked them off before admiring the lingerie you were wearing.

He smirked and suddenly ripped your bra off from the back, making your plump breasts plop out, which you squeal in excitement.

"So fucking sexy!" Terry whispers as he picks you up, gently lays you on the bed, and begins leaving kisses on you.

His kisses always made you feel good and turned on. His hands lightly caress your waist up and down.

Terry was so slow and gentle with his motion; He stopped to stare at your breasts, licking his lips at the sight.

He takes both hands and squeezes your breasts roughly, causing a squeak to escape your throat.

"Fucking love your tits, baby," Terry says, beginning to suck at them, causing a moan to ripple through your throat.

He flicked his tongue on your nipple before leaning up and kissed your lips tenderly,

His lips caused a shiver to go up your spine. Terry pulls away and takes the rest of your lingerie off as well as his boxers.

You two love admiring each other's bodies like it was the first time seeing them.

His skin glowed beautifully in the light that you saw him in, his muscular body was sculpted amazingly, and his dick was lengthy and wide.

Terry noticed that you were checking him out, and a smug smile appeared on his face.

Curious, His eyes sparkled as he asked, "Like what you see?"

You responded with a nod and a wide grin, replying, "Always...daddy."

Terry began kissing your belly to the inner corner of your thigh; he stopped and became extremely gentle, lightly running his fingers up your wet folds.

You moaned, feeling a shiver go up your spine as he circled and rubbed at your pussy.

"I love the beautiful sounds you make, baby," He says, slipping a few fingers inside you.

You gasp loudly, feeling the great sensation of his fingers thrusting in and out of you fast.

"Terry, please," you moaned as he picked up the pace, feeling your center warm up and become soaked with juices.

This caused him to stop, pulling his hand away from your warmth.

You whined softly afterward, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes.

Terry's eyes were darker than before. "You need daddy's dick, don't you?"

"Yes!" You nod, and he climbs on top of you and rubs the tip against your wet folds, causing you to whine impatiently.

He leans down to your ear. "How much do you need it?"

Terry posed another question, and you responded with a desperate whine.

"So much, Daddy, please fuck me!" You begged, trying to get some friction, which made him grin seductively.

"I'mma give you what you want, baby girl," He says deeply before thrusting his entire length into you.

You gasped loudly, making your back arch up, and he pulled you in a kiss.

"Fuck, you were perfectly made for me, baby," Terry says, pulling out and thrusting back into you.

This action makes you cry, gripping Terry's biceps while he grips your wide hips, beginning to thrust in and out of you at a slow pace.

"Faster, Daddy," You gazed up at me, biting your lip with a mix of desire and love.

"Like this?" He asked, beginning to pick up the pace, gripping your hips a bit tighter.

"Fuckfuckfuck, yes" You cried with a nod. Terry began to watch your breasts bounce up and down with each thrust, loving the movement.

You placed your hands on his chest, letting out loud moans as he began to thrust deeper, feeling his dick hit your sweet pot.

"Fuck! Fuck me, Terry, ahh fucking put a baby in, Daddy," you cried, which made him smirk.

"You wanna another baby, 'cause I'll fucking give it to ya," He asked, locking your feet over his ass and pounding into you faster and deeper.

"Yes, please fuck me, yes," You cried in his ear, whipped your head, and gripped his back for dear life at this position.

Terry grunted at your answer, seeing in his eyes picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your second baby.

"You sure you want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see how I put another baby in you, pretty momma?" he asked for reassurance.

“Yes, please fuck! I want it; I wanna another baby,” You begged, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders.

You loved his heavy moans and the wet gust sound of your pussy and his dick slapping against each other repeatedly.

"Please!" You said, clenching around him.

Terry moaned and loved the way your pussy sucked him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to milk him for that second baby.

“Fuck, you really wanted huh? Fucking clenching that dick, milking it. I'll fill you up and put a baby in, shit fucking around, fill you up for days on this honeymoon and just to get you pregnant.”

He spread your legs a little bit wider to go much deeper, and with each thrust, the whole bed started making a squeaking sound.

"Ahh, yes fuck Daddy, that's what I want. Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking deep, ahh."

You moaned, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. You couldn't hold back.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum-fuckfuckfuck," You cried, feeling your eyes roll in the back of your head as you came hard.

'That's it, baby girl. Fuck...daddy's right behind fuck ya...." He says, keeps thrusting deep inside of you.

"Fuck here it comes," He grunted as his whole body jerked as hot cum spurted inside of you.

You both stayed in that embrace, catching your breath and coming down from the amazing high.

Terry made sure every drop of his cum was inside of you before pulling out.

He flipped his back on the bed and wrapped his arms around you.

"You think we did it? You think there's a baby in there?" he asked, gently stroking your belly, causing you to giggle.

"We'll just have to wait and see; if not, we can keep trying," you replied, gazing up at him before tenderly kissing his lips.

The soft glow of the moonlight streamed through the curtains as you both lay there, envisioning the possibilities that awaited you.

The room enveloped you in a soothing silence, broken only by the gentle cadence of your breaths.

"I love you, baby, so much" he murmured, his voice brimming with love.

"I love you too, Terry," you whispered back, feeling a warmth spread through your heart.

The night seemed to wrap around you, a cocoon of dreams and whispered hopes.

You both knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, hearts entwined.

Sleep began to pull you under, and you smiled, knowing that this was just the beginning of your forever ever after.

[andcars]

# 𝗙𝗖𝟰𝟯 ─── MAKE IT UP OFF-TRACK MASTERLIST . . . REQUEST ME . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3

YOU'VE RACED WITH HIM AND you've been under him. still, it hurts you when he outqualifies you. it almost hurts as much when you both still think you're just fuck buddies. ────── original prompt req.

PROMPTED DIALOGUE . . . # “You’ve been staring for a while” PROMPTED TAGS . . . # praise kink, rivalry, friends with benefits, jealousy ADD. TAGS . . . # quickie vibes, sex in the hospitality, author has a language kink, but also deepl translations WORD COUNT. . . # 1.6k

────── AO3 VERSION

P11. Fucking P11.

Everyone else is in the garage as you come in, all angry and disappointed. You were tenth of a second behind P10 and you weren't able to push it on the last lap because you went off track limits.

What’s done is done. You can’t work with a car that clearly doesn't wanna work with you. The better part of you wants to let this go and simply rest for tomorrow. Call it a day. Think of how to dominate tomorrow. Sleep it off.

But Franco walks to the garage at P7 and proceeding into Q3. The plan gets thrown away immediately.

You don’t hate the guy, of course not. You’ve met him times before when he was still in F2. If, of course, meeting him included hotel rooms and secluded bathrooms. You met him a lot, if so.

It’s not his fault that he’s better than you, as of now. You should be happy, really. But fuck, it should hurt how some rookie is better than you in a car you’ve driven for a year.

Despite all of this anger bubbling in you, you can’t stay mad at him. You could never stay mad at him, you think. Yet it hurts all the same.

You look away as your eyes meet. Not giving him a chance to even confront you or attempt to comfort you, you leave.

It’s pivotal now to talk with your strategist. He’s expecting you, unfortunately. Knowing damn well that your next duty was to come to him to see how to improve your performance, he already had your data pulled up.

Your, and their, wrongs are being talked into your ear and out the other. The farthest screen turns black, and you see Franco in the reflection. His blurred figure is towards you, his panting from the race still evident on him.

It’s difficult to pretend to care about racing right now. It’s not like they say anything different anyway. The rear wings are fucked, the tyres are fucked, the wheel can’t turn, and your head is just in the wrong direction. All the same things said before.

To the driver’s room you go. Q3 starts and you don’t do anything. The TV screen shows the delayed race as the crowd cheers from the opposite sides of the wall. Franco is in danger, with Mercedes finally coming out from the pit—you don’t expect anything more.

After the stretched minutes alone in your room, a knock comes on your door.

You say, “I’ll be out soon, tell James to get some patience,” with your head in your phone. No fucking way you’re going to be dealing with them while you’re still pissed.

The door opened and you grunt. Looking up, Franco was grinning at you.

“I’m also hiding from Jego,” he says, the grin on his face annoying, “can I come in?”

“And we both get caught?” It doesn’t matter what you think, he puts his feet in anyway.

The couch is uncomfortable. If they aren’t spending money on the car, they might as well spend it on the seats. With you laying across the couch, he kneels between your legs. You raise an eyebrow at him as he undresses his fireproof suit.

You ask, “You seriously wanna fuck?” and he laughs.

“¿Me dirás que no? (Will you tell me no?)” he murmurs, getting on top of you with his hips pressing against your ass. “Did you know I placed 6th today?”

“Mhm.”

“No?” He places a kiss on your cheek. “Didn’t watch me? What were you doing in here?”

His lips ghost over your neck, the warmth of his breath sending a small shiver down your fine. You know he felt it when he chuckles in your skin.

“Getting fucked my brains out,” your voice is flat. “What were you doing out there?”

“Ah, amor (love), you won’t get me like that,” he whines and kisses you once in one side. Then twice the other. He says, “You are so mean though, telling me things like this. Do you wish you were with someone else? Hm? ¿No me querés más? (You don’t want me any more?)”

Franco comes up to part your lips open with his tongue. You gasp a little, your arm limp over his back. His mouth wide open, chest pressed against yours, tongue just brushing against your lips, he says—

“Quiero coger. Te quiero comer a besos. Quiero que me hagas tuyo, mi amor. Don’t go making me jealous because you are.” (I want to fuck you. I want to lavish you with kisses. I want you to make me yours, my love)

His hand is gentle on yours, playing on the hem of your pants as his kisses turn wet. Desperate. Loving. It hurts you how careful he is with you when you spent the past hour hating him in your head.

And he’s always so gentle. He always used to ask you if you liked it, his words almost always in Spanish. As if he’s lost in you, he doesn’t know what words to use.

He no longer needs your permission now. A finger rubs between your clothed cunt as his hand pushes your shirt up to hold your tits. He moans more than you, in love with your body.

“So good,” he murmurs, “don’t ever look for anyone else. For me, please?” You moan against his cheek as he focuses on rubbing your clit through your pants. “I can make you feel so good. Amor, I can be yours.”

In moments like this, he’s too drunk on sex to know the words he’s spewing. He reaches for the lube and condom hidden in your desk. His movements are sloppy. You swear he struggles a little in opening the cap up.

He asks you something in Spanish. It’s out of your vocabulary, so you tilt your head.

“I don’t need to prepare you, right? You’re still loose?” You can see his hips grinding against the palm of his hand. His cheeks are flushed, and you see drool coming down his chin. It’s pitiful.

You nod. “Yeah, just give me a bit to adjust if you wanna—fucking hell.” It’s out of your control when you laugh. Franco eagerly shoves his pants down alongside yours.

“What has gotten you so eager?” you ask.

“I got P6,” he smirks. That little fucker.

His cock is rubbered and wet when it enters you. He moans loud as your hand comes to his cheek. It’s catlike, the way he goes soft against your hold.

Shifting slowly, he grinds inside of you. The soft rubbing inside your walls almost has you mewling. But you keep your eyes on him, ignoring the pooling pleasure between your legs.

Telling him, “You’ve been looking at me,” has his lips pouting. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were in love with me.”

“I am in love with you,” your cheeks flush, and you’re not sure if it’s the sudden thrust of his cock or his words. “I’m in love with the way you race, how you over-perform a dying car, how you move.”

His eyes drop to where you two meet, jittering his hips a little. With the quick thrusts, you’re caught off guard and moaning out his name. He looks very satisfied with it.

“Oh, amor—” his words turn gibberish to you as he starts to move. His pace is uneven, driven by the thought to take you carefully and the urge to bring the both of you to climax. Not a single word is getting into your head.

But his voice is so loving. He’s panting between every other word, lips pouted and eyebrows furrowed. His voice is getting louder, and you put your hand against his mouth.

“Shut - oh, God… Shut up,” you whine, feeling the cockhead rub against your g-spot. “You’re so fucking… good. Just like that, fuck me.”

He shuts up when he goes down to kiss you. Both his arms wrap around you, embracing you as he finds the right angle to make sure you’re still getting stimulated. His hair is rubbing against your clit, the little tickle in them getting you to moan a little louder.

You feel dizzy. It’s not the lack of air during the kiss, you know it. He’s just holding you close to him while he takes you like you’re his lover. Your heart curls in itself, punishing itself for its own stupidity.

But fuck, you want to focus on the now. The way his hands are going up and down your back, soothing you as you get lost in the pace of his thrusts. The way his body towers over you, completely enveloping you in his hold. 

“I’m gonna—” he gasps, his pace barely slowing as you assume he cums inside of you. You whine when he bottoms inside.

Franco knows you. He knows you too well. He grinds inside of you before pulling out. Still, he doesn’t let you think another thought before he’s flicking your clit.

“Shit, fuck, Franco!” he smiles under your silent praise as his other fingers tease at your hole. “I’m gonna cum too. Just like that. Don’t fucking stop.”

He only leans down to spit on your pussy, easing the rub as you’re moving your hips along him. You cum with your back arched and your hips off the couch. His hand stills on your clit as his eyes are fixated on the way cum leaves your pussy.

You drop back down when he places your hips on his lap. “Don’t get it dirty,” he reminds you, tying the condom and throwing it in the bin. “It’s embarrassing to explain to the cleaners.”

His humour comes in at the worst moments. You grunt and he only laughs. “It’s not even funny. You’re just telling the truth.”

“It’s funnier in Spanish,” he promises.

You think about how it probably sounds just about the same.

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . first time writing for bro ! i'm so open to writing more of him so i added him in my taglist options, so if you wanna be tagged for future fics of him 👀 you know what to do . if you already sent me a form before , you can resend another with him included ! anyways , fixing up the next few fics soon . ˎˊ˗ ᝰ. ──── 📨 @delululeclerc @hiireadstuff

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

[iknwreid]

pumpkin – spencer reid x reader.

spencer loves autumn and halloween so much, and you and him are always togheter, this time for a pumpkin carving.

wc: 2.5k | disclamers: fluff, realy fluffly. bau!reader. no use of y/n. | a/n: english is not my first language, also, this is my very first time writing a fic in english, lmk if theres anything i can improve. glasses reid is my favorite. text divider by cafekitsune.

Reid and you were more than work colleagues, you were friends. You were always talking to each other, even outside of work, using your free time for friendly dates, going to cafés, museums and anything else you'd like to do on your own but didn't dare, because leaving the house alone had been a bit of a problem since high school. And deep down you knew it was a problem for him too, not a problem but probably an inconvenience. Going out alone was always awkward for everyone, the feeling of people looking at you and wondering what they were thinking – Not that it really matters what people think, but social anxiety is a real thing.

So you and Spencer were always together, your teammates already had jokes ready when you left the bullpen together, with Morgan and Prentiss always being the first to say something they found hilarious. “Going away together again? Soon you will be living together too.” Morgan’s voice echoed through the office in a joking tone. Spencer looked at him with an annoyed face. “Yes, Derek, but better than living with you, tho.” You replied, also jokingly. The dynamic between the two of you was sibling-like and you were constantly annoyed with each other. 

“We're going to the fair to buy a pumpkin to carve.” Spencer said, packing up his things. “Halloween season is starting!” Reid loved Halloween, everyone knew that, and you loved it too, not as much as he did, but his excitement and anticipation infected you too this year. 

The Halloween season had not started yet, it was only the middle of September, but for him it was Halloween season when fall came and the pumpkins were sold. You could not count how many ghost stories Reid knew by heart that he told you over and over again. You did not really mind all the excitement, but you knew it could be overwhelming for the others. In fact, you loved his excitement at this time of year, loved watching the movies on his list even if you had already seen them all last year, loved the pumpkin-flavored things he bought, and loved the smile on his face when he saw a pile of leaves in the street. 

If you looked out of the window, you could see that the trees were beginning to look autumnal. The hot summer air had already faded away, welcoming the cold breeze and the orange paisaje he liked so much. It was nice to have fall again, to not feel hot all the time and to not see Hotch’s disapproving face when you broke the dress code a little just because it was too hot for all the formal wear. 

When your thoughts were interrupted by Spencer’s touch on your shoulder, you turned your head towards him and smiled a little. “Are you ready?” he asked with his typical face, but it was impossible not to see his excitement. “Yes, yes… Sorry. I've been thinking too much.” It was normal for you to get tangled up in your thoughts, you loved thinking to yourself. “I love this time of year.” I love seeing you like this, you meant. 

You grabbed your purse and coat and began to walk with him to the elevators. He was silent for a moment, then you smiled as he began to speak. “Did you know that the fall season used to have a completely different name? In the 12th and 13th centuries, autumn was known as ‘haerfest' in England -" You beamed at his words, because every time you walked towards the elevators, he regaled you with another fact that he had probably read one day years ago. “One of the reasons it has that name is because the full moon closest to the fall equinox is called the Harvest Moon. The other reason was that harvest time was also a time when farmers could finally reap the fruits of their sowing, resulting in an abundance of produce.” 

“Have you noticed that you tell me a different fact every time we walk this way?” You say, looking at him after pressing the elevator button.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to–"

“No! That's not what I meant, Spence. I just think it's really nice that you always have something on the tip of your tongue. It's pretty impressive.”

Spencer's rambling never bothered you, it was so nice to hear him talk about anything, anything at all really. His voice echoed in your head every time, and you remembered the random things he said when you didn't have important things to do– sometimes when you did have important things to do. The truth was, you thought about Spencer a lot more often than you should. Probably way more than he thought of you.

“Well, I'm glad you like it then.” He said after wetting his mouth with his tongue. It was a habit, maybe a tic, but you always saw Spencer doing it. Adorable. “I have a feeling that saying facts to you is almost unconscious. It's just nice to share.”

You laughed a little, then the elevators came. You got in as usual, waited a second for Spencer, then pressed the button to the floor. Spencer practically never pressed the button, he thought there were too many people pressing and he didn't know how clean their hands were beforehand. Since he had told you that, you had a small bottle of hand sanitizer in your purse, and even before you took the bottle out of your purse, Spencer’s hand was already extended in your direction, waiting for you to put some in his hand. And you did, as always. You and he had everyday rituals that no one knew, that no one could interfere with. Just you and Spencer doing silly little things together. Like going pumpkin hunting to make incredible Halloween decorations, even though it's not even October yet.

You loved his companion, the world felt lighter every time you were together. And as always, the elevator ride was quiet, the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. And Spencer understood you and vice versa. Rambling on your walk, being silent in the elevator after your hand sanitizing ritual. It was better than all the silly little jokes Morgan or Prentiss made. And you knew that and hoped Spencer knew that too.

“I don't think I tell you often enough how much I enjoy being with you.” You commented after you exited the elevator and looked at him.

“Well, you don't have to.” He explained, turning his eyes away from you. “I think I know. In fact, I like to think you're enjoying it as much as I am.” His tone was calm and flustered. You giggled and touched his arm briefly. “I guess I do, Spence.”

The walk to the fair was so nice, the laughter and the conversations and the short break to buy coffee. You would stop every time you could at the tiny coffee shop that made the best coffee near work, and the seasonal flavors began to appear. Spencer got his usual pumpkin spice latte, you got a chai latte, which is always good, but at this time of year it was just hitting different.

The two of you spent the whole walk chatting non-stop. You felt the stares of some people when you were talking louder over excitement about something, but it did not matter when you were together.

“Originally, jack-o’-lanterns would have been carved out of potatoes, turnips and beets, but when immigrants came to America, pumpkins were more fruitful, so they became part of the tradition.” Told Spencer as you sipped your coffee and nodded your head in agreement to what he was telling you.

“I think it's easier too. Imagine having to carve something out of a turnip, it's so tiny.” You gesticulated to express how difficult it would be to make tiny faces in the little vegetable. He chuckled and his face showed pure confusion as he tried to understand the gestures, you rolled your eyes and laughed as well.

“You understood what I was doing, don't make a fool of me.”

“Yeah, I get it. All those little knives to make little faces. Really hard.”

A little further and there you were, some stalls with big vegetables and some with baked goods, toys or decorations. There were fairy lights everywhere, so your eyes hurted a little, but it was so beautiful that you could forgive the inconvenience. The way the lights reflected on Spencer’s face, in his glasses, made him look really pretty too. You felt like this moment had lodged itself in your brain like a core memory. He gave you a quick glance as he began searching through the stalls to find what he was looking for: a big ass pumpkin.

You followed him and looked at all the cool stuff that was being sold  there. All the trinkets were so interesting to you, you loved little objects that you could display in your home. It was tempting to buy them all, but unfortunately you did not. Every time you liked something, you showed it to him and he said, “You should buy it. It would look good in your house.” And you and Spencer would think about whether it was really worth it. For him, the Halloween decorations were always worth it, but you laughed and left it to save up for something greater.

“Hey, look at this!” He said, pointing to a big pumpkin, a really big one. Honestly, you shouldn't buy it, it was big and it would be a pain to get it home. But the way his face lit up when he pointed at the orange vegetable, you knew you wouldn't have the courage to say no. “Spencer, this is huge.” You said, stepping closer to him to look at the pumpkin. “Yeah, exactly. It's perfect for us.”

A few minutes later you were on your way home with the pumpkin. When your arms got tired, he carried it and when he was tired, you carried it like a little child who wants his parents. Apart from that, it was a nice walk to his apartment. You already knew the way by heart, just like he knew the way to your home and where you had hidden your key. It was only natural. You and Reid were a natural product of friendship– of love. The two things came together, but you couldn't help but wonder if this love was something more, something bigger. Whether Spencer's skin burned as much and his heart ached as much as you did. The September flush hit your face and made you shiver for a moment, in stark contrast to the feeling you had just a second ago when you thought of the possibility with him.

You were near his home now, turned the corner of the street and there you were. Spencer and you entered the building and now came to the worst part. “The stairs,” you said with a giggle, imagining yourself walking up the stairs with this thing. “That's on you, Dr. Reid.” you added, handing the pumpkin into his arms. 

“That's definitely not fair.” He whined, but he knew it was more than fair. It was his idea to buy such a large pumpkin, so it was his responsibility to carry it upstairs. “You should be glad you live on the second floor,” you laughed, touching his back to encourage him. “Let's go. You're strong.”

With some difficulty, you and Spencer got into his apartment, you took off your coat and put it in the coat rack with your bag. You went into his kitchen and searched for a large knife and all the other utensils, a bucket for the pulp and smaller knives for the details. He was prepping the floor with some old newspapers, so it would be easier to clean after. 

“Well, what face do you want to make?” You knew he'd never done the original Jack-O-Lantern face, so it must be something original, spooky and funny. “Maybe a scary cat?” He looked at you as he sat on the floor and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “I think we can do this, yeah.” It can't be that hard, can it? you thought. You grabbed the big knife, sat down next to him and started to slice open the lid. It was a messy part, because you had to take the lid off to remove the pulp and seeds. As you did this, Spencer drew on a piece of paper what he wanted the pumpkin to look like and showed it to you to get your approval. You kept nodding and saying it looked nice. And it did. Spencer had many talents, some people wouldn't say drawing was one of them, but you really liked the little doodles and all the things he drew. A creepy little cat face that had a strange charm.

“I love it. I might steal that for myself.” You say, admiring the drawing. Spencer smiles and looks down at his knuckles. Still today he didn't know how to deal with compliments.

It was an intimate atmosphere, you on the floor, close to him, so close that every now and then you felt your arms against his, your skin touching and radiating the hot feeling in the area. His elbow casually touches your forearm, triggering a chaos of emotions in your head. You sigh and admire him drawing on the pumpkin. Your eyes linger on the way his strands of hair fall perfectly into his face, highlighting his profile. His glasses on the tip of his nose and his slightly open mouth show how focused he was. In an unconscious moment, you move your fingers and adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Spencer looks at you and giggles after wetting his mouth with the tip of his tongue. You love it when he does that. 

“Spence.” You call his name in an almost non-existent tone, so softly that he only listens because you were so close. He calls your name back in the same way. You can literally feel your breath catching and mingling with his. Feel how hot his face was, see how his glasses start to fog up. “Can I kiss you?” You say it without thinking, because your subconscious wanted this, needed this. “Y-yes. Absolutely.” Spencer's answer sounded like he wanted it as much as you did, like he was just waiting for confirmation.

And there was. The confirmation. You move eagerly to join your lips as his hand drops the pen to cup the back of your head. The kiss was gentle, just like his touch. You moved a little closer, placing your hand at his waist and tilting your head to better accommodate him. It was so much better than you had expected. Your lips met softly and tenderly and his hand held you like it was the most precious thing ever. The tip of his nose caressed your cheek and the glasses tingled against your skin in an endearing way.

You didn't want to let him go, but when your lungs demanded help, you slowly parted your lips. You both smiled while your faces were still close together. You kiss the corner of his mouth, looking at him. “I thought you'd never ask that,” he said, kissing you on the forehead.

At that moment, you realized that this kiss was only the first of countless kisses to follow that autumn night. 

[brawltogethernow]

I would LOVE to hear your aro Hal thoughts if you don’t mind sharing?

[re:] (Sorry in advance there are absolutely no issue citations; I have saved so many pages in random places without labeling them.)

I don't know if I'd even call it having thoughts so much as having...an incomplete collection of Hal...saying things?

And having things said about him?

And he does this very familiar weasel jink when asked certain types of questions.

Like the general direction of authorial intent here is presumably that he's a ~playboy~ who ~can't be tied down~,

but we rarely see him...like...with anybody. He's an informed attribute playboy who's had a handful of onscreen flings that tend to be complete disasters with significantly less chemistry than a poorly measured baking soda volcano, and other than that there's Carol, who he's been failing to marry with high agitation for sixty-five years at this point. Like in cape comics it's standard for your obvious endgame A couple to take twenty or thirty years to get around to that, but sixty is excessive. Like even Alicia Masters and the Thing managed it faster and they kept getting put off because it stressed out too many Marvel writers to contemplate monsterfucking. (And other less comedic factors but this post isn't about that.)

And every time Hal tries to go steady with Carol he acts like he's dying, even though he clearly loves her and holds having her in his life in extremely high priority.

Like he is not enjoying a playboy lifestyle he doesn't want to give up. He has tried very hard to settle down several times, but he always panics and bolts at the last second like someone who's run out of the willpower¹ to keep holding onto an electrified rod--except when he's rescued by deus ex machina.

¹Ha.

And it's also pretty evident that he hates himself for this and doesn't understand why he can't pass this standard life milestone, or why he keeps hurting Carol, his favorite person, trying and failing to do what they think you're supposed to. He very blatantly views his romantic failures as something that let down other people and "improving" as a sacrifice he's supposed to make for them.

When his desires come into it it's primarily in the context of him gaslighting himself about how he totally wants the things he's supposed to that won't disappoint people, definitely definitely for real this time.

As seen above, romantic success for Hal is often conflated with retiring from being Green Lantern to inject cheap drama and insert a built-in inevitable failure, framing him as staying single because he's "married to the job". This barely ever made sense but was already downright comedic by the, I want to say late 70's?, where Carol was in on the secret identity and John and Katma were pulling off extremely successful GL/GL dating in the same book. At this point it's complete nonsense, so writers have been pulling harder on framing Hal as a disorganized man-child with commitment issues who's just sort of arbitrarily rendered undateable by being a committed superhero, something which, although it's a classic source of drama, has not hindered any of DC's other characters to this degree this consistently.

In conclusion: This aro man does not know what aromanticism is despite being one degree of separation from Connor Hawke, which is ruining his life and his ability to have any self esteem. Him and Carol desperately need someone to tell them what queerplatonic relationships are so they can stop doing these wretched I'm-not-touching-you kisses.

#EverybodyDislikedThat

Also he's been dressing up as the aromantic flag since 1959. Okay now I'm done.

[coca-lastic]

5 Green flags 🟩 VS 5 Red Flags 🟥

I'M BACK 👹

Well well, My last post about Keigo have lots of support from you all, and like I said, I'm willing to do a part 2 about Bakugo Katsuki sooo, here I am.

Tell me if you want a part 3 and which character you would like.

Let's start with his red flags. Let's be clear that Katsuki does have a few, it's true that it's nice to imagine him as an attentive boyfriend who takes the initiative, and I firmly believe that he would be like that, but that shouldn't hide the little things he has that can get on your nerves at the time of a fight.

Now, let's start listing his bad things:

1. He acts like you're a burden: I don't think he would do this on purpose, but he would. Comments like "What the fuck do you want now?", "Stop bothering me", "You're too intense", "Will you shut up?" can come up at the beginning of the relationship. Even to the point that you feel bad about his independent actions, as if you were just another thing on his list. Of course, deep down he doesn't consider you a burden, but he expresses himself as if you were one.

2. He doesn't open up to you: Katsuki has this constant thought that he can't be inferior, that he has to be the best and his feelings can be a difficult thing, and I think that in a relationship he feels a lot more pressure about all this to be strong and show you how tough he is. So I think that for a long time he won't tell you if something is wrong with him even if it's clear that something is wrong with him. This could just be something normal, but I add it as a red flag since a large part of Katsuki's life is clouded by those insecurities, so he doesn't tell you how he feels every time he sees Deku, or how he was in training, or how he felt when he won something, because if he does, his facade will fall apart. This ends up being something that can affect the communication between you two.

3. He doesn't understand you: He tries, he really does, but he just has a hard time understanding when you feel bad. He's so used to minimizing what's happening to him that he doesn't understand why it affects you so much. So you might be crying in his arms, and he might be hugging you, but deep down he doesn't understand, and that's terrible in arguments, because he doesn't understand why you're angry or why you're sad or why you're disappointed, he tries to fix it but he doesn't understand the roots of the problem.

4. He's jealous: Like, not jealous to get insecure when he sees you with a friend, jealous to get furious when he sees you with another man. And that, OBVIOUSLY, brings problems. He trusts you, he doesn't trust them, he knows you're hot and he also knows that the other jerks know it. So don't doubt that he's going to complain to you repeatedly that a certain person shouldn't be so close to you, or that he doesn't get along very well with a certain friend.

5. His anger: In the anime we can already see that he is a little bit... impatient. He tries to control himself with you, he truly loves you and treats you with his best version, but there are times when you simply act in a bad way, I mean, you also have your red flags, and that makes him angry, and you too, then you fight. A lot. For a long time. A lot of yelling. And probably a lot of painful words that he doesn't really feel, but says them, because his fury is faster to speak than to think, analyze and meditate.

Now, like every person, he has his flaws and his virtues. He has things to improve and things that you should love, because they are incredible.

So let's see what those good sides are and let's see which side of his personality ends up winning, let's see the second side of his furious personality.

1. He doesn't talk, he acts: Maybe he doesn't open up to you as much as he should, but he decides to make you feel comfortable by letting you know that he loves you through more practical methods. Are you hungry? He cooks, are you sick? He takes care of you, do you want a snack? He buys it. Because actions are worth more than words, so he decides to act, he decides to give you what you want, and consider yourself lucky because you are the only one who sees his helpful side.

2. He puts you first: If his friends invited him out to eat something, he won't care if you sent him a text telling him to go with you to buy something. If his mother told him she was going to celebrate a birthday with the family, he'll run away because you asked him to bring you some chocolates. Because he knows that if you love someone, you're not going to replace them with the smallest things, so if he has to make a decision that involves you, you'll always be the right answer.

3. He is not ashamed to show you off, he loves to do it: You are also part of his achievements, and being the show-off that he is, he will show you off. God, he has a sexy, smart, strong, kind and hot girlfriend, he has to show you and show them that you two are together, that he is a lucky and happy man.

4. He knows you: I think this is important, but not all men do it, in fact those who do are very few. Because not all of them observe you, remember, learn and please you, but Katsuki does. He is observant and knows how to listen, maybe he doesn't understand perfectly why you feel so much, why you get excited and sad about small things, but he knows that you do it, he knows how you feel, he knows how you reacts, he knows what you like and how he knows you, he knows how to please you, he knows how to make you happy with a gift, he knows how to excite you, he knows how to make you laugh and he knows how to make you feel loved.

5. You're part of his future: If he sees himself as a great hero, he sees you by his side, making and fulfilling your dream. Holding your hand. Kissing you. Hugging you. Caressing you. That's what he sees. Maybe two house, or a single one, whatever you want, maybe 2 children, or maybe none, just a pet, maybe a red car, or maybe a black car, but within all those variables there is one constant: you.

Sorry, this doesn't match your way of seeing Katsuki. Remember that he is still a character that each one sees and imagines in their own way, but I try to do it in a way that everyone feels comfortable.

Now, did the 🟩 flags or the 🟥 flags win?