#NOT proofread

[newwavesylviaplath]

there's this one specific take i have on feminism that borders on straight up man hating territory and ive never voiced it cuz i was afraid i was gonna be called a crazy bitch who took things too seriously but i just saw someone bring it up on instagram so fuck it.

!!warning angry woman with beliefs that aren't the most politically correct!!

i fucking hate how much we've romanticized and idealized 'dad bods' not that having a 'dad bod' is a bad thing; i'm all for the body positivity movement, i don't think anyone should be ostracized for their weight AND i have no problem with people whose preference actually is 'dad bods' HOWEVER i hate that it's become almost a trend because it's straight up the perfect example of a double standard. you don't see anyone talking about how 'mom bods' are in and even if u do i guarantee it's not in the mainstream. i'm not saying men being chubby is bad in any way but what i am saying is that we cut men so much slack when it comes to physical appearance and they do not reciprocate whatsoever. same thing with like 'hot rodent boyfriends' or men with big noses- all of these things are fine within themselves and should not be vilified as for the most part we cannot do anything to change our appearance but i hate that the media has been constantly pushing the same ideals on womens looks since the literal fifties when men don't even have to dress nicely or GOD FORBID try and take care of themselves and they'll STILL be able to do whatever the hell they want.

i'm not saying all men have to be jacked. i'm not saying being fat is bad. i'm saying that we never let this shit slide with women so it's fucked that we do with men.

[corinescorner]

Biases That Doctors Can Have

Doctors, like all people, carry biases. They influence how they perceieve and treat patients. These biases may be unconscious or consious, either way they impact the quality of care that patients recieve from them.

Appearance-Related:

Weight: Patients with obesity might be stigmatized, leading doctors to attribute all health concerns to weight.

Age: Older people might face ageism, with symptoms dismissed as "just aging," while younger people might be seen as less credible.

Disability: Patients with disabilities may have their health issues minimized or overlooked entirely.

Hygiene: Disheveled appearance or poor hygiene can lead to assumptions about the patient's responsibilities or mental health issues.

Identity and Demographic:

Racial and Ethnic: Patients of color, especially Black, Indigenous, and Hispanic individuals, often report being dismissed or disbelieved. Research shows that they might recieve little to no pain medication or aggressive treatments for serious conditions.

Gender: Women may have their pain minimized or attributed to emotional cases. Men, on the otherhand, might have emotional concerned dismissed as physical.

Queer: Queer individuals may face ignorance, prejudice, or assumtions about their health based on their identities. For example; trans people often have barriers when seeking gender-affirming care.

Socioeconomic:

Income: Patients with a low-income may face assumptions about their ability to follow treatment plans, access medications, or prioritize health.

Insurance: Those without insurance may experience rushed care or not have their concerns taken seriously

Behavioral and Communication:

Mental Health: Patients with psychiatric conditions might have their physical symptoms dismissed as psychological.

Substance Use: Individuals with a history of substance use may struggle to have their pain or concerns validated.

Communication: Patients who are overly assertive, passive, or emotional may be judged negatively.

Bias Based on Health Status:

Chronic Illness: Patients with chronic conditions may be viewed as "complainers."

Rare Diseases: Symptoms of rare conditions may be dismissed as "all in their head."

How Can We Combat This?

To limit the biases in healthcare, it is crucial to promote sensitivity and cultural competency training for medical professionals. It would help them recognize and address their own implicit biases. We should also increase the diverisity among healthcare providers. Patients should be encouraged to advocate for themselves, ask questions, and seek second opinions when they feel like their needs aren't being met or addressed.

Remember, not every doctor is trustworthy and free of bias. We shouldn't be ignorant against the healthcare that people can receive. This is why research self-diagnosis is very important.

[carletes]

oh how about carlando cockwarming?

It was because Carlos was as sweet, considerate, and careful as he was that Lando loved when he wasn’t. And mostly, it was Lando’s fault. He pushed Carlos, liked making his eyes flash, liked seeing how far he could go before Carlos’ resolve broke.

But sometimes, Lando didn’t have to do anything at all. Like one day, when Lando was in a conference call, late at night, irritated because it was cold and he wanted to be in bed. Duty called, and so did timezones, so Lando had to crawl out of his comfortable bed, from beside his hot boyfriend, stand in the living room. Staring at the swirling snow outside. Forehead gently banging against the window.

Which was why he was able to see Carlos approaching, his reflection drawing closer to Lando’s.

Lando glanced back with an apologetic grimace. He put himself on mute and said, “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, babe.”

“It was cold,” Carlos said instead, and Lando was too distracted to notice, then, the look in Carlos’ eyes.

“Yeah. Freezing out there. D’you wanna hike up the heat?”

But Carlos just went to the couch, their large sectional, and laid down in it. He patted the space in front of him. Lando shook his head. “I have the meeting.”

“Come here.”

“Carlos, I’ll be there when I can–”

“Lando.”

And Lando shut up immediately. Carlos was looking at him intently, his voice sharp. Then he said, less sharp but still commanding, and fuck that went straight to Lando’s dick: “Ven aquí.”

Lando immediately walked over. He sat down in front of the sectional, phone still clenched in his hands, AirPods in his ears, and knelt, gazing at Carlos.

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Good boy,” Carlos said. “Strip for me.”

Lando did. He set his phone aside and took his sweatshirt off, careful not to jostle his AirPods, then kicked off his sweatpants. He was naked, shivering slightly in the cold, AirPods incongruous against his nudity—but he knew Carlos liked that. Liked that Lando could be the CEO in his own world while Carlos (at least sometimes) called the shots in their shared world, simultaneously.

“I’m cold,” Carlos said, his voice calm, even. “I need you to warm me up.”

“How, daddy?” Lando asked, eager to please, desperate to please. He knelt down in front of Carlos again and made a high, desperate noise as Carlos ran a hand through his curls.

“So pretty,” Carlos murmured, and Lando glowed with the praise. “Turn around and get on your hands and knees for me.”

Lando did. In his ears, whoever he was speaking with (it didn’t matter, he didn’t care) was saying something about profit margins against marketing costs, and Lando was just aware enough to know he needn’t be concerned. He presented himself to Carlos, and Carlos leaned over and ran a broad, large hand over Lando’s ass. It was an appraisal. Lando was hard with it. He spread Lando’s ass, and Lando moaned softly.

“You don’t need any preparation,” Carlos said, satisfied. “Tell me why?”

“Because you fucked me so good before bed, daddy,” Lando explained, flush with pride. It was good, Carlos fucking Lando from below while Lando gasped above him, coming over Carlos’ abs without warning as Carlos just grinned delightedly.

“That’s right. Do you want to do something for me?”

“Anything,” Lando said, turning back around, wanting Carlos’ approval more than anything. Carlos put a thumb to Lando’s lips and Lando opened his mouth.

“Like I said. I’m cold,” Carlos said. “I’m going to warm my cock in your little asshole.”

Lando moaned. It was embarrassing. He should have been embarrassed. But he wasn’t. He just nodded over and over, whispering, “Please. Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please use me. Daddy. However you want.”

“That’s my good boy,” Carlos said, and he patted the couch again. Lando immediately slipped in, back against Carlos’ chest, and Carlos wrapped an arm around Lando and pulled him into position. “Baby boy. Perfect for me.”

And without warning, Carlos pushed into Lando, his cock thick and wonderful and insistent. Lando mewled, eyes fluttering.

“Lando, you still there?”

Goddammit.

“Answer your people, Lando,” Carlos said quickly, right into Lando’s ear. His cock, his cock, it felt so good. “You have daddy’s permission.”

Shaking, Lando scrambled for his phone and unmuted himself. He cleared his throat.

“I’m here. Everything sounds good so far. I think we can launch the campaign in a month.”

“Glad you agree. We have a couple more things to discuss, and then we should be good to wrap up.”

Lando muted himself just as Carlos whispered, “My impressive Lando. My successful Lando. Do they know you’re just a cockwarmer at home?”

Lando’s cock twitched with that. He bit his lip and shook his head.

“Do they know who fucks you every night?”

Every inch of Lando’s body ached to push back against Carlos, fuck himself on Carlos. But he was a good cockwarmer. He wouldn’t move.

“Yes, daddy,” Lando said, as the men on his phone spoke about views and interactions and influence collaborations. “They’ve seen me on your arm lots of times before.”

“And if I asked you for this in front of them?” Carlos whispered, pulling Lando deeper onto him, his cock pulsing inside Lando. “If I told you to sit on my lap, let me use you like this, in the middle of a business meeting…would you?”

The vision of it. Lando sitting in Carlos as his throne, leading a meeting, his asshole full with Carlos’…

“Yes, daddy,” Lando said, and he turned and smiled at Carlos. “I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?”

And Carlos’ smile was surprisingly sweet. He leaned in and kissed Lando’s lips. “My perfect Lando. Filthy just for me.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“You can go back to your meeting, baby boy.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

Somehow, the meeting passed. Lando even made some points during it. And through it all, Carlos remained in him, almost as if he were dozing, only then he would rock into Lando and make his breath catch on a sentence.

Afterwards, when Lando had his AirPods out, his phone cast aside, Carlos pulled him in close.

“Lando. Can I fuck you now?”

And Lando grinned at Carlos, his eyes heavy with the joy of being used so. “So now you want my permission?”

“Well, you’re the boss, aren’t you?” Carlos replied smoothly. And somehow, even as Carlos began fucking him hard, his hand pumping Lando’s heavy, straining cock, Lando wondered at how Carlos made him feel in control even when he wasn’t.

Because somehow, even when he wasn’t, Carlos was as sweet, considerate, and careful as always.

[creamsiclethighs]

Holiday Boyfriend

Soft yandere themes, no sexual content, not proofread or edited, your content consumption is your responsibility

The first Christmas you spent with your boyfriend had you jittery. You wanted him to like your family and you prayed they would like him, too. You loved your family and wanted it to work out

You weren't oblivious to your boyfriend's behavior- his intense gazes, his firm grip on your arm or waist as he navigated you in public (obviously he was the protective sort), hoarding your attention when your friends were around. Maybe it wouldn't come off as weird to the family, but maybe it would

Upon arrival you introduced him and your family welcomed him warmly. Throughout the night he stuck to your side never leaving you to hold a conversation alone with a relative, and when it was his turn to speak he asked only about you. He asked your parents about your childhood and they were a tad too giving of the embarrassing details. Your siblings weren't much help, either, ragging playfully on you. Now your boyfriend knows all the juicy gossip about you-past relationships, childhood friends, their stupid nicknames for you

When it was time to eat your boyfriend wouldn't let you loft a finger filling your plate for you and cutting up your food. He tried to feed you like you sometimes let him at home, but declined now to his disappointment. You didn't need people to see you spoon-fed! Your family might find it cute or endearing, but it would only be another embarrassing memory to bring up at future get-togethers

Gift opening was funny when you opened your dad's gag gift- a hot cocoa bomb in the shape of a shirtless man. You joked it was the perfect man for you only to notice your boyfriend side-eyeing your gift with a forced smile. As other family members opened their gifts your boyfriend turned the gag gift around in his hands glaring at it. You swear you heard him grumble at it. "Perfect man..."

After dinner came game time! If only your boyfriend would stop explaining the rules in your favor. Your family was able to laugh it off, but his attempts to help you win didn't seem fair. Especially when he showed you his hand so you'd know what card to play next.

At the end of the night your family expressed how adorable they found him and how soon to expect a wedding invite. Some were more serious than others, but such an attentive man would be hard to pass up. He has a few clingy behaviors, but he was a welcome addition to the family

Happy holidays!

[rafesweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[bambrinaa]

jj who got bitchy!kook!reader to crumble…and is a smug bastard about it.

jj had been pestering you for a very, very long time. constantly teasing mocking, and poking fun at you — always having a remark locked and loaded for whatever snarky, sassy comment you gave him that day.

for a pogue, he handled your attitude well. perhaps pogues just handle it better, as you’ve never met a kook boy who hasn’t called you psycho bitch with a big mouth.

the relentless mockery and vulgar flirting from jj, along with the lingering touches and downright gropes he gave you left you in a state you knew damn well you shouldn’t be in.

you often found yourself thinking about him late at night, and in most those cases, whilst your hand was stuffed into your victoria secret panties.

it was another one of those nights, playing with your own pussy until it was left sticky and throbbing, moaning jj’s name to your empty room. you had become sick of your pathetic excuse of an orgasms by your own hands, trotting your way over to jj’s house at gone midnight.

you were at his door, clearly disgusted by the actual state of the cut — and jj’s house, but feeling your own arousal, causing your panties to stick to you, it was the very least of your concerns.

which is how you ended up right here, in playboy pogues bed, getting your cunt absolutely drilled by him, his hand flat between your shoulder blades and forcing your chest to the mattress.

“this is all you needed, huh? just needed someone to fuck all that bitchiness outta you.” he drawled from behind you, amused at your slightly dazed look.

despite your loud, pornograhic moans bouncing off the walls as jj fucked you like the world would end tomorrow — you still had something to say.

“f-fuck you, pogue. this — this doesn’t mean shit.” You spat, reaching back to scratch your neatly manicured nails against his forearm.

he gave a deep chuckle, rumbling from deep in his chest as he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer, thrusting somehow deeper, hitting that spot your fingers or stupid frat kooks couldn’t ever hit.

“the sounds you’re makin’ say different, mama.” he commented, listening to your loud, borderline yelps as he pounded into you, hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises.

“g-god, you’re so full of yourself.” you hissed, and he leant down, snaking a large arm around your neck and pulling you to his chest tightly, other hand wandering from your hip to the bulge in your lower abdomen — pressing down on it with a smirk.

“nah, i think you’re the one full of me.”

[thephantomsdream]

Let's be real for a second.

Ghost likes you a lil mean. Just enough. To him, to his mates, to everyone. He can fight. He will fuck anyone up who dares to react aggressively to you, so it doesn't matter if you're sassy, snarky, plainly put a little shit. He won't stop you, he's not gonna "tame" you, he's definitely gonna fucking eat it up and tease you, loving your remarks, clever, funny or straight up mean. The man will be smirking behind his mask (or straight up giving you heart-eyes at home). Don't be unnecessarily mean though, it's not a good look on anyone. Oh, god, and if your humor is dark? You got the man snorting and fucking giggling*(1), shoulders shaking and him trying to hold it in as you're plain roasting someone.

Be mean to him. He tests the waters, dropping one of his incredible and fantastic jokes for you to roll your eyes at him and tell him to rather wear a clown mask, since he's such a joke, and I swear he folds. Wants to pin you down and fuck you raw until you're a sobbing mess that knows nothing else but his name? Of course, and know he'd be mocking you, because where's that snarky mouth of yours, hmm? Oh, ya, busy sucking on his fingers. But until then, he's lowkey following you around dropping stupid joke after stupid joke until you're actually angry and amused. He got you smiling somehow? Gets him feeling like a young boy with a crush, silly butterflies and all.

Give him a bitch-face. Raised brow and unimpressed face at anyone and he's just eyes on you. Fucking hell, he's creepy too. Ghost is fucking intimidating as he is but if he just fixates on something, big brown eyes locked onto you and (big, awkward because let's be fucking for real, boy's actually fucking awkward) body frozen. Just 🧍‍♂️. (I'm fucking wheezing, he just 🧍‍♂️👁👁 and you know it!)

"Fuck are you looking at, weirdo?" That's bloody foken lovely!

And!

AND! He just (again, awkwardly) hovers and makes shit jokes but is so helpful to you in any way he can because in reality he's garbage with words but with actions he's much better. Regardless of where you met, he'll find a way in your life because you bring him joy and he just can't seem to let go. Simon tries to convince himself too that it ain't a good idea, that you're better off. Aha. Yeah, then you just look at him in a way when someone else says something absolutely fucking stupid and he just... Yeah, he's yours.

Be mean to him, then let him shove his face in your tits. Pull his hair a little but wrap your arms around him. Bite him and call him an idiot if you want, as long as you call him your idiot. That's Simon to you.

(But when you're nice to only him, he feels special. Make this man feel special, yeah? He needs it.)

(1): I actually imagined him in his barracks, him kicking his feet while he wears a pink robe, writing in his pink diary (with a pink pen with one of those fluffy balls at the end) "Dear diary, my lovie called me an asshole today. My heart is still racing. We shall mary in spring." and drawing hearts around his and your initials together.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

toji absolutely loves "bad" blowjobs. he loves to see you struggle to fit his cock in your mouth. your lips are stretched as wide as they possibly can and you're trying, you really are!! but he's just so fucking big. he loves to see how desperate you get when you think that you're not good enough, that you're doing a bad job when in reality it's only turning him on more. he loves to see you screw your eyes shut as you drool all over his fat cock. he loves when your nails dig into the backs his thighs when you use his own body as leverage to fit more of him in your mouth. he loves when you claw and paw at him like a kitten. like a kitten with a damn milk bottle. so eager, so thirsty – as if it's going to be your last meal. (it wont.)

he loves it when you scrape him with your teeth and how sorry you look after it. pulling back for air, your eyes are so big and so wide, bottom lip jutted out as spit dribbles down your throat while you apologize with a raspy voice. he can't help but laugh, his big hand wrapping around his dick as he continues to stroke himself while watching you squirm down on your knees. tears roll from the corners of your eyes and his balls twitch at the sight. fuck, you're cute like this.

he leans a little closer and you immediately do the same, ready to go back to work. he loves how determined you are. he's so proud. he loves it when you're just a little bit unsure, like when you look up at him, clearly asking for reassurance and praise before placing a wet kiss onto his balls. you don't really know what you're doing and it's fucking hot. he cannot wait to fuck your throat; the sounds you'll make, how your eyes will look – his head lolls back st the thought and his hips buck forward, so for a moment his dick and balls are completely in your face and oh... when he takes a look at you now. flustered and a little embarrassed – you're just not used to being so dirty. toji leans down to kiss you and you let out a little squeal which in turn makes him grin.

he also loves when you can't fucking coordinate your movements. your mouth is doing one thing and your hands are trying to do something else, but it's just hard. there's no rhythym whatsoever and your grip is constantly either too loose or a little too tight and fuck, he's gonna cum in your mouth. you're such a fucking mess, he cannot wait to ruin you.

he loves to see you get shy over the sounds that leave your mouth and he fucking loves it when you accidentally blow a spit bubble on him. oh, that really fucking gets him going. gagging and choking – his eyes are threatening to roll back inside his head but he refuses to let them do so because you look so lewd. and it's all just for him. he loves it when you pull back, taking in big breaths of air just for him to tell you "c'mon now.. " in a low, teasing voice. he loves how for a fraction of a second, you actually glare back at him! but then you're wrapping your lips around him again just like you're supposed to<3333

he loves to watch you struggle to swallow all of his cum, too. there's so much of it!!!!! some slips out from the corners of your mouth and it drips down to your thighs and the ground but toji doesn't fucking care. you're coughing and another pair of tears fall and he's quick to wipe them before they're wasted. he brings them to his lips and licks them clean, all while you stare up at him – his baby, his sweetheart, he tells you how good you were with a smirk. he sounds a little condescending, but he really does mesn it<33333 he's surprisingly patient, loving every single thing you "mess up". it just shows to him how willing you are, how perfect. how dirty.

[moechies]

angry toji + head + bunny = perfect !

meanest toji with his bunnie baby, forcing his darling to suck his dick :(

his strong musk fills your nostrils, hard punishing thrusts to your face as you try your absolute hardest to keep your composure. it doesn’t look great on you that’s for sure, fat globs of tears running down your face, and the crown of your forehead breaking out in a sweat. but, he thinks you couldn’t look more perfect.

he holds you tight by the base of your fluffy ears, both ears. they’re stretched and pulled back by one singular hand of his, his calloused hard palm in comparison to your soft sensitive skin. he tightens his hold on them, pulling them tighter when he feels your tongue slacking, spewing degrading phrases just to watch you wince and cry under him.

“dumb fuckin’ bunny.” is all it takes to have you much more eager than before; to suck harder, lick better. your tongue swirls around his mushroom tip, gliding the tip of it through his salty slit. your little tail shivers, eyes brightening just a bit when you hear him groan, eager for more.

just when you’re about to nuzzle yourself further into his manhood, balls deep in your mouth, he gives your fluffy ears a rather painful tug, forcing you off his dick. drool strings from his cock, connected to your lips as you gasp and cough, strings breaking and coating your chin. you hadn’t even realized that you had been borderline suffocating during the time you had been engulfed with his cock deep in your throat.

“look at you. good f’nothin’ bunny. only good for blowjobs ?” he spits, and you simply peer up at him with glassy eyes that hold no meaning behind them. your chest heaves and throat burns, but you pay it no mind. your eyes cross back onto his standing dick, silently begging for more.

“‘s good you know when to stay silent .” he mumbles before shoving you back on his cock, making you gag. you huff around his length, unintentionally tightening your throat around his sensitive shaft. a string of curse words fall from his mouth, your poor ears straining from his angry grasp. your hand comes up to hold onto his finger, gently attempting to pull it away from your pained ears.

although mean, he’d never hold any intention to harm his bunny. so his grasp does lighten a tad, but in no way does he plan on letting go of your little bunny ears. he would never want to let his bunny go, and let her run loose.

owners need to control their pets, after all.

[l13]

The loud thumping wakes you up, and you blink tiredly as the sound persists. You look at your ceiling for a second before you realize someone is knocking at your door. You groan, bringing your duvet over your ear as you snuggle in again.

“Leave me alone,” you mumble against your pillow as the knocking becomes more forceful.

Suddenly there’s silence, and when you finally think that whoever is bothering you has left, the knocking starts again.

You groan, cursing under your breath as you stand up, grabbing your gun from your vanity. You walk to your front door, opening it angrily.

“What-” your outburst dies down at your lips when you lock eyes with the last person you’d expected to see standing outside your apartment, but one you’d longed for, for years.

Your first instinct is to panic, there’s no way you were conscious. The person standing at your door was supposed to be dead.

So you raise your gun up, hand trembling, “This isn’t real.” you choke out, and Vander raises his hands slowly, opening his mouth to speak but you cut him off, “You’re not real, you’re not here.” There are tears dripping down your cheeks, the gun threatening to fall from your hand with how much you were shaking “Y-you’re dead, this can’t-” you clutch at your chest, heaving, and Vander’s hands grab at your shoulders when your knees buckle,

“My love,” The gun slips from your shaky grip and falls to the floor the moment the words leave his mouth. His voice, god fuck, his voice. You’ve dreamed of it, you’re certain you’ve heard it, back when the grief first clawed at your heart, when the illusions spilled into reality to try to mend what was broken.

But this sounded too real, and you gasped when his hand cupped your cheek, thumb wiping the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Darling, my darling girl. It’s me,” the sweet but rough sound of his voice sent shivers down your back, and you wanted to drown in it, you wanted to hear it again and again and again until you couldn’t anymore. You blinked rapidly, tears blurring your vision as your eyes danced across his features, the five bright white dots across his forehead would have confused you, if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack.

You didn’t realize you’d raised your hand to cover his, until you felt the warmth of his hand under your skin. “S-stop, this isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real,” you squeezed your eyes shut, whispering frantically in order to wake up from this sickly realistic dream, to end this before you woke up and missed his touch again. And yet you craved more, desperately running your hands down his sides, back up to his chest, his shoulders, his back.

God, he felt real, and he was so warm, not like the previous dreams you’ve had when he was always cold, just a silhouette of the man you loved. He even smelled like your Vander. A sob broke through you, and you threw your hands around his neck, crying against his chest. Even if this wasn’t real, you’d still take advantage of this opportunity to feel close to him one last time.

You tried not to cry harder when his arms immediately circled around your torso, hugging you tight to him as you both slipped down to the floor, “Shh sh, love it’s me. Please, look at me,”

“If I do then I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.” you muttered against his chest, nuzzling closer to him, “Let me have this, just for a moment.”

“You have me, forever.” His rough gravelly voice vibrated against your chest as he spoke, his breath hitting your ear as he nuzzled against your hair, his hands running up and down your back, spreading warmth everywhere.

Too real, too real, too real.

“I miss you so much. I-I can’t-” you take a shuddering breath in, “I can’t live without you. I need you back, please. Please, I’ll do anything.”

“My love, my heart. You beautiful, stunning creature. Look at me, I beg you.”

You could feel him leaning away just so he could cup your jaw, lifting your head up softly, so so softly.

Please.

“Look at me.” he mutters, the softness of his request filled with desperation. You slowly open your eyes, blinking away your tears, gaze immediately locking with his.

Your lips part as you take him in. The color of his eyes was much greyer than you remembered. You raised your hand to follow each feature, each wrinkle of his. After a moment, You brought your other hand up, as well, cupping both his cheeks in your hands, feeling his stubble prickle at your palms. “Vander… This- this can’t be real.” you move to pull away but he cups both your hands, keeping you in place, leaning his forehead against yours, “It can, it is. I’m here honey. I’m here.”

You can’t help but stare at his lips, watching them move as he speaks, your mind trying to make sense of what you’re seeing, hearing, feeling.

Please.

You can’t let yourself get too hopeful because this isn’t possible, and he seems to get it too, so he starts explaining.

He tells you everything. How he was on the verge of death, how a man, Singed, found him, turned him into something vile, but the mutation kept him alive, even if he wasn’t entirely himself. He tells you about how all he felt was pain, but you and the kids were the only thing in his mind the whole time, trying to block away everything else. Tells you about Powder, Vi, and Isha, how they found him, brought him somewhere, a colony of some sort. A man, the Herald, helped him, and “..honest to God he kind of scares me, but it-it didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now because I’m here. I’m here with you.”

Please.

You don’t realize you’ve lost track of time until you’re looking at yourself. You blink quickly, eyebrows furrowing, but then you realize you’re looking at yourself in the mirror. Vander is still holding you tightly, and the side of your face is pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he whispers sweet nothings against the crown of your head. You stay there, listening to his voice and his heart for what feels like forever.

He grabs your shoulders, pulling you away from him just enough for him to look at you in the eyes, “Are you okay?” he asks, but his voice is muffled, sounding too far away. You blink slowly up at him and he frowns sadly.

“I missed you so much. Even in death I missed you, but I wasn’t selfish enough to wish I could see you again because that would mean you’d-” he cuts himself off, the strands of his hair moving as he shakes his head, eyes clenched shut as if to rid himself of that painful thought. “I-I’m here. I’m real. Darling, I’m alive, and I need you to know this.”

His eyes are pained as he stares down at you, once again cupping your jaw, thumb caressing your cheekbone “Say something.”

“I love you.”

His face immediately crumbles, eyebrows squeezing together as his tears start falling, and he tucks his head against the place between your neck and shoulder, crying as he squeezes you impossible tighter, “I love you.” he chokes out, and you feel him pepper soft kisses over your skin, the brokenness of his voice bringing fresh tears to your eyes as well.

You don’t know how long you stay tangled together like this, just holding each other, but Vander leans back suddenly, looking at you with so much adoration that it makes you want to scream. “Hi,” he mumbles, petting your hair softly, his other hand drawing circles on your back.

You start pressing soft kisses all over his face, not being able to contain your affection, and he closes his eyes, laughing giddily, the deep sound traveling over your skin, spreading warmth everywhere. God, you’ve missed this, missed him. “Hi.” you mutter, pressing one last kiss at the corner of his mouth.

His puffy eyes glance down at your lips, “Can I-”

“Please.”

He kisses you.

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* The mating habits of Yandere! Animal-Human Monsters

Yandere!Monster men who sometimes forget that their poor darling is a human and misinterprets their actions when it comes to mating. Short drabbles about yanderes trying to seduce their darlings, but the list gets progressively darker the further down you read.

*Warning* dub-con, non-con, yandere possessiveness, dead dove

Yandere!Crow Harpy who was a little disappointed when you refused to move out of your house. You didn't understand why the feathered man seemed so infatuated with you, but after a long while of him begging you to move in with him you agreed, only on the condition that he moved into your home. It wasn't a traditional harpy relationship, but he was ecstatic regardless, deciding that if he couldn't build a nest with you he could at least win your favor as a perfect mate by decorating it. It got on your nerves sometimes, coming home from work to find shiny bits of trash and feathers tucked into every nook and cranny of your home. Eventually the two of you created a list of acceptable "treasure" to bring home, and what you considered to be actual garbage. He spent weeks "decorating" your already furnished house, before one day pulling you into the living room where he had piled every blanket and pillow you owned into a makeshift nest on the floor. His smile was insecure, desperate for your approval as he wrapped you into his large wings, holding you tightly against his warm body before sinking down into the mass of fluffy objects. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest erratically as he gently began placing kisses against your collar.

"I wanted to help build a home with you, so it wasn't yours or mine, but ours. I pray that my attempts to prove I'll keep you and our future children comfortable impressed you..."

Yandere!Merman who couldn't help but feel awestruck by your beauty, often going on long rants about how much you inspire him. It was a chance encounter while you were studying abroad, and you grew emotionally attached to the beautiful man who sang you words of praise. Although he whined whenever you had to leave the beach, the bags under his eyes became deeper as the weeks went on, chronic exhaustion taking it's toll on the merman. Whenever you tried to convince him that his sleep was important, he would only give a dopey smile, responding cryptically about how his secret project was just as important as spending time with you, and that he would have time to sleep once it was all over. One day when you arrived on the beach he was already there, shaking with excitement and impatiently trying to drag you into the ocean before you could get on your snorkeling gear. Deep where the sun barely touched, a huge intricate mural was sculpted into the ocean floor. As your eyes widened in an attempt to take in just how massive the artwork was, following each perfectly symmetrical swirl, two strong arms snaked around your waist with a tired, yet content, sigh. He blew words into your ear that you were somehow able to understand despite the water, as he sunk with you into the middle of the circular masterpiece.

"You take my breath away every time we meet, and I wanted to do the same for you. Please say that, if you could, you would lie here in my arms forever.."

Yandere!Puppy-Hybrid who was always just a ball of energy, a hyperactive sweet heart who couldn't sit still when he was awake. Most of your days together, it was easy to forget that he could even have urges, with how innocent your relationship was, kisses and cuddles but nothing more. As a species who had mating cycles, although he would never tell you out loud, he was always waiting for you to go into heat. But it was taking so long! He did such a good job being a patient boy for you, you didn't even know why he was being so whiny lately, attributing his neediness to his attention seeking personality. But eventually, he took your phone to do some research. At first he was shocked, humans didn't have mating cycles?? How did you know when it was time to make a baby? Then he came across an amazing discovery. Ovulation. It took a couple of months, holding your belly to his face and breathing deeply for a couple of minutes each day, but he finally learned the subtle changes in your scent throughout your cycle. You had no idea what was going on, thinking he was just being extra goofy lately, until he refused to let go one day, tightening his grasp as his breathing turned into heavy pants, grinding your leg in between his.

"Ah.. you can't hide it from me.. I've been waiting for this for so long... Please don't say no..."

Yandere!Humanoid Spider who always did his best to never frighten you. Even when you first met, it was with him holding his hands up and pleading for you not to run away from him in a soothing voice. Despite the lower half of the creature you met in the forest being a giant spider, the top half was such a kind and handsome man that you quickly began to trust him, soon considering him to be a good friend. He was so thoughtful, always raising his hands as a show of surrender, whether he was approaching you from afar and didn't want to startle you or if you were jokingly fighting over something silly. Even amongst humans, he was the one you trusted the most. If you had known anything about spiders though, you would have been more on guard with his overt displays of feebleness, especially after he began telling you how beautiful you were. You didn't even fight back at first when he suddenly grabbed you from, until he bit into your neck. The kind man, no, the monster you thought you knew, wasted no time sliding your pants down as he still held your backside to his chest, chuckling into your shoulder.

"Ah, my stupid little human~ Were you just pretending to be that naive because you wanted me to take you? ❤️"

Yandere!Naga who couldn't feel love in the same way that humans did. As a researcher working towards her doctorate specializing in Naga people and their many sub species, you were overjoyed to meet a small tribe of Naga men who were willing to allow you to enter their home and record their daily lives. There were so many types of Nagas loosely related to snake species still alive today, and they each had their own cultures, languages, and biology. Based on the coloration you couldn't tell what type these men were, but despite not being fluent in their language they were very kind to you. They seemed to have been in a period of mourning before you arrived, and lavished all their attention on you, babbling on in one sided conversations you could only understand a few words of here and there. One phrase they all stated was flattering only for the first few times they repeated it, but quickly became unnerving as they became more comfortable caressing your face and running their fingers through your hair. And when they pulled you into the center of a giant nest, taking turns thrusting their long tongues down your throat and running their hands over your body, trapping you in a pile of cold men staring deep into your soul with hungry eyes, you learned the species they were closest to.

"We need you... We need you..."

Yandere!Humanoid Scorpion who rescued you after a tourist attraction went arry, promising to protect you until you could be rescued. A strong, bulky man who enjoyed holding you (almost too tightly) in his arms whenever his peers came near. Everything was honestly lovely until in the black of night you were awoken by a strange chorus of sounds echoing outside the burrow the hybrids allowed you to sleep in. A blue light illuminated the large home, and as it noticed you finally woke, approached, revealing himself to be the scorpion man who rescued you, glowing with bioluminescence. Before you could ask what was happening, fear struck you like a bolt of lightening seeing a large, inhuman cock emerging from just below his human half. He lunged forward, and you threw up your hands in self defence. Your hands intertwined with his, fighting against him with all of your strength, but the harder you fought, the more excited he grew. You pushed and pulled, but he didn't loosen his hold on you. Eventually it seemed he had enough playing, and threw you effortlessly onto the bed. Tears streamed down your face at your helplessness, but this only widened his smile as he peeled the shirt off your sweaty body.

"There is no need to fear, my mate. As you can see, no one can match my strength. You and our brood shall be safe under my protection.."

Yandere!Humanoid Waterbug disgusted you, from the twitch of his antenna to the flirtatiousness of his voice. The moment you met him on the water of your lake house, there was no escape. Every time you left or returned back home he was effortlessly skating across the waters surface towards you, begging you to come closer. Although you did your best to ignore him, his loud cries for attention eventually wore you down. Maybe if you entertained him just this once he would leave you alone? You approached him calmly, but as soon as you were within reach he grasped your hands tightly, pulling you partially into the water. He spoke sickly sweet words of affection, chilling you more painfully than the cold morning lake water. You tried to turn him down politely, gently pulling at his grip. He pulled you into the water further, swiftly pushing the two of you away from the shore in one kick of his legs, his unamused gaze no longer holding the playful, flirty gleam it had before. One set of hands held yours tightly, while another pair grabbed your head shoving it without warning under the water. You struggled against his grasp, rapidly losing oxygen as you panicked, black spots filling your vision. But before you lost consciousnesses, he brought you back up, still staring into your eyes with cold fury as your lungs felt like they caught fire. He confessed his love again, but when you began sobbing he thrust you face forward into the water again with a painful smack, holding you down beneath him until stopped struggling. In the air once more, snot flowed and mixed freely with your tears as he aggressively smashed his face into yours, fishing out your tongue and biting it harshly.

"There's only one correct answer to my question, (Reader).. Be mine, or die. If I can't have you, then no one can."

Yandere!Marsupial Hybrid you never saw coming. Lost in the Australian outback, you cursed yourself and your impossibly terrible luck. Hybrids and monsters freely roaming the world were terrifying enough, but being in the land where even the greenery was planted by Satan himself? Your phone had lost it's signal about two hours ago, and your jeep died shortly after that. Trudging along by foot, you continuously felt eyes following your every step, and the fear that a giant spider or monster snake was stalking you made you cry for hours as you walked under the merciless sun. On top of the heat and new blisters forming on your soles, you had to use a restroom as well. Quickly surveying the tall bushes to make sure you weren't about to go next to one of Satan's previously mentioned bushes, you pulled down your shorts in discomfort. The feeling of eyes on you hadn't left since your vehicle randomly gave out despite being double checked before you left the city, but your bladder couldn't care at that moment. A rustle nearby ended your attempt to go before it started, pulling up your shorts so fast it hurt. A hybrid with round ears and a lung brown tail with white spots charged into you, knocking you down. His face was red and slick with tears and sweat, his eyes wide and frantic as he latched his sharp teeth into your neck with excitement. Everything was so fast, with his alternating between feverish rambling and biting into whatever part of your flesh he could reach as he tore off your clothes with a desperation you couldn't comprehend. Tears blended with your own as he kissed, licked and bit every piece of you as he fought your legs open, ignoring your screams of pain.

"You accepted me didn't you?! You knew I chose you! Ah, it hurts! Why'd you put your clothes back o-ah! I need you, I need you now!"

[http-tokki]

when Satoru tells you to turn around mid-make-out session, he does not expect to find you crawling onto the bed on your hands and knees, hand slipped beneath the hem of your panties in an attempt to push them aside.

"What are you doing, angel?" genuine curiosity and concern fill his tone, brow raised at your immediate position switch. "I don't- why?"

You look over your shoulder, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open as if you had just been caught sneaking cookies in the middle of the night and not as if you had just automatically assumed he was going to fuck you like that.

Had he given you that impression?

Satoru was so careful to avoid giving you that idea with gentle touches and slow, loving kisses against your skin, requests whispered against your collarbone and sealed with a soft peck. He wasn't expecting you to assume the position.

"Do you not want-?" your voice is small, dejection evident.

Gojo tilts his head before realising. "Baby, no!"

Your face falls and Satoru scrambles to clarify his intention for the position change.

" I don't want to fuck you like that, well I do but not right now. Actually yes now but not in this second," He scrambles and trips over the words, desperate to assure you it was not whatever you were beginning to think about. "I want to fuck you. Always. In any position but that's not why I asked you to turn around."

You're nodding at his explanation, sinking to your knees and removing the hand from your panties but the confusion still creased your forehead. Gojo feels silly explaining his reason like he’s sixteen again but he needed you to know that’s not what he was expecting.

"I just wanted to take your bra off.”

[connorsui]

Meh meh meh whatever sylus is the type of husband to watch all of his cum drip out of you… one hundred percent like …

Watching his load drip from your tight pussy would awaken a primal urge within him. Like, He could stare at your swollen pussy for hours, coated in your wetness and his cum, as you moan and spread your legs for him.

"Stay still, sweetheart"

His large hands would grip your thighs, spreading you wider. As You gasp as his thumbs brush your sensitive folds, still swollen and tender— He leans in closer, hot breath fanning over your most intimate areas.

"Good. You’re perfect, kitten" he growls possessively before dipping his head to lap at the mingled fluids.

You cry out at the sensation of his tongue, overwhelmed by the lewd sounds and sight of him devouring his own spend from your quivering pussy.

Hearing nothing else but Sylus groans against you.

[carletes]

tsor with something blood-related after a fight?

[combining these too!]

"My liege," Carlos said, walking into the audience hall at a clip. He was in full golden armor, his beard grown thick and lush, cape torn and dusty from battle and the journey home. He looked every inch the warrior king he was—more so with the blood splattered across his armor and face. Rather than mar, it only enhanced the mythical visage of him. "I come bearing news of our success."

Lando ignored every single nerve in his body that seemed to explode with a singular instinct: to run to his husband, to throw his arms around him, to check him for injury, to demand every detail of the battle Lando was unable to join because of his advanced condition. "Report, King Sir Carlos."

Carlos nodded, cleaning his brow of blood. Lando swallowed hard, his nails digging into the arms of his throne. Around him, their courtiers murmured, anticipating.

"Beloved," he began, and Lando's heart clenched, "we intercepted the enemy's plans before they were prepared for a counterstrike. Duchy Albon's intelligence was perfect. They were a force of 200, preparing to send small forces into all the major strongholds in Anglosax. Assassins."

Carlos snarled rather than said that word. The king-consort's disdain for assassins was well known.

Lando nodded, swallowing his emotions. "Prisoners?"

"Two. A grunt and a captain of one of these would-be forces. We have interrogated them, but of course, my king, they await your interrogation."

Carlos had a smile on his face, wry and without humor. Lando made a pleased noise; Lando may be a month from full-term, but he was still a king and still a knight. "Good. Casualties?"

"All of theirs. Some injuries on our side." Then Carlos sighed: "They killed the family in whose stable we found them."

Lando fist clenched. He made to stand, and his valets rushed to his aid, but his husband was faster: Carlos crossed the space between them rapidly and took hold of Lando's arm, his other hand supporting Lando's lower back.

"We will find that family's closest kin and compensate them," Lando declared, his courtiers nodding with approval. "We need to investigate any other Anglosaxons that may have been harmed by these scoundrels and ensure their satisfaction. We will send missives to our allies presently."

Lando's courtiers stood, murmuring, "Your Majesty," as Lando took his leave of them. Carlos supported Lando as Lando waddled towards his office, just off the audience hall.

Once the door closed behind them, Lando let the facade slip. He cried out and threw his arms around Carlos.

"Mi vida," Carlos whispered, careful of Lando's swollen belly, lifting him up and onto the nearest cushioned service. "Mi rey. I am home."

"Inside me," Lando whispered, and Carlos hesitated.

"I am covered in gore," he said, placing a hand on Lando's cheek. "I am filthy. Let me clean myself, and then I will give you what you deserve."

"Fuck what I deserve," Lando snarled, running his palms over Carlos' bloody face. Carlos' eyes widened as Lando then rubbed the blood onto his own face. "You will give me what I want. I want satisfaction for my people killed in cold blood. I want vengeance on those that would harm my dearest vassals. I want you to fuck me, and I want to know that the blood you will ruin me with belongs to my enemies."

Carlos looked at Lando's eyes, full of desire and demand. Then he unclipped the legs of his plate, keeping the rest of the armor on.

"Quickly," Lando commanded, begged, and Carlos ripped Lando's hose and tunic off in response. Lando gasped and nodded rapidly, letting Carlos swing his legs around his waist, his gauntleted hands cold and biting on Lando's skin.

Carlos pushed in with a growl, his restrained adrenaline exploding out of him in that moment of sundering. Lando nearly screamed with it, the roughness, the force of Carlos' entry, so good, so necessary. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

"I killed a dozen, at least," Carlos whispered as he thrust into his husband, and Lando begged Carlos for more. "In your name. In the name of our people. I killed them without warning and I do not regret it."

"Yes. Yes. Yes." Lando had his hands all over Carlos' armor, his hands filthy with the half-dried blood. He ran those hands over himself, over his bare legs, over his belly, so their child would know how their parents protected them. "Fuck me. Tell me. Fuck me."

"Every captain but one. The captive. Lando. I made sure I was the one to kill them. For you. Everything for you."

Lando came to that, mewling Carlos' name over and over, the taste of copper and violence on his tongue. Carlos' eyes were hungry as they looked over Lando.

"Bloodthirsty," he said approvingly, his hips still fucking into Lando, and Lando just whimpered at the overstimulation. He needed it. He needed it. "Look at you. A miracle, again, full with our child, again. Covered in the blood of your enemies. I would fuck you before the world but they are not worthy of your beauty, your glory."

Lando looked at Carlos and said, "Thank you for killing them." Carlos grunted and spilled himself deep inside Lando. "Thank you for giving me what I need."

"Always," Carlos said. His eyes softened as he panted softly, running his palm over Lando's belly. "Always. My love. I wish I had you beside me."

Damn his condition. Damn the heightened emotions.

Lando's eyes overflowed with tears and he exploded into sobs. Carlos quickly removed the rest of his armor and pulled his husband into his lap, kissing comfort into his forehead, rocking him as consolation.

They would never speak of Lando's bloodthirst in that moment again. But it would not be the last time Lando asked for Carlos after battle and adorned himself with the blood of his enemies.

[ohimsummer]

satoru would grow to be one of those old people who die of heartbreak after you pass away :< not even a full year after your death and he’s following you straight to the grave :<<<

the house is all empty and quiet, he doesn’t do much anymore (he wasn’t anyway with his older age, but even less so now that you’ve died). satoru wakes up in the morning and it takes him a minute to get up before he just sits, stiff and lonely on his side of the bed, staring at his feet and dreading the start of another day. he wishes he could do his morning routine with you again.

he gets something small to eat like cereal because usually you were the one making the pancakes and eggs and sausages (sometimes he would “help”. aka sneak tastes of breakfast until you chased him away with a wooden spoon). he is silent as he eats, staring at your empty chair across from him at the table.

satoru sits quietly in the living room trying to distract himself with movies and tv shows (that you used to watch together. some he will now have to finish without you) and he ends up wasting another day doing nothing but trying not to think of you. at night, he prepares for bed, wishing he could do his nightly routine with you again, too, and then he lays down in a cold bed with a heavy sigh. and satoru cries himself to sleep.

him visiting your grave

[angelplummie]

ur art baby trapping fic is all i can think abt btw

but but but. what if after the first time it becomes a regular occurrence, and after the first few times, when he buries himself as deep as his long cock can go inside you and cums so hard he loses vision, you think maybe it’s time to be safe again. you’ve taken a few pregnancy tests, and it’s seeming like you’re getting away with the risky sex, but the risk is not worth the reward.

you saunter into the kitchen one morning, were art reads the news on his laptop, sipping a black tea. what a serious man you were dating. your arms snake around his neck loosely, and you kiss this top of his blonde head.

“i’m gonna order some more birth control. what’s that gynos number again? i know i wrote it down somewhere but i can’t remember.”

art stilled. he placed the mug squarely on a coaster.

“you don’t need that.”

he reached up to hold your forearm gently, to ghost the pad of his thumb against your soft skin.

“well, i do a little bit. we’ve been lucky, but if we keep going raw we might be in trouble. then you’ll be stuck with me forever.”

he hummed, stomach flipping. you were so close to figuring him out.

“that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“what?”

he kissed the peach fuzz of your arm.

“i’d like being stuck with you.”

you didn’t let go, but you didn’t move either.

“are you saying you hope i get pregnant?”

“no,” he lied softly,”but if you did, that would also make me happy. wouldn’t it make you happy?”

you inhaled, shocked.

“i guess. i don’t- i don’t know how i would feel. i haven’t given it much thought. have you?”

he moved to get up, and you stepped back, unfurling yourself from him.

the chair scraped against the floor, and you watched arts feet as he moved around it to get back to you. he turned to face you, beautiful face set in a knowing, subtle smile. he took your face in his long hands, one on either side of your jaw.

“i’ve thought about a future with you and being with you forever, and about having a baby with you.”

your lips parted slightly, that rosy feeling cresting your cheeks and nose.

“i love you very much. i want you very much. is it that strange to think i might want to start a family with you?”

a cloudy feeling, humid and twinkly, filled your head. you drew in breath, but before you could make any kind of reply he kissed gently on your forehead, which nullified the part of your brain that might have any problem with what art was saying ever.

“why is that strange baby?”

“it’s not strange.”

“that’s right.”

and he pulls you into his chest. your arms remain tucked to you, and he wraps himself around you. tenderly his chin rests on your hair, and your breath in his smell. art was so clean, and so smart and kind. and he loved you. he wanted to be with you. you were so lucky.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

and that night, when he got you on top of him, cock buried deep in your tiny cunt, he made you feel even luckier. you were so wet it spilled down his shaft that split you open, down to his round full balls. his hands were clamped like shackles around your hips, preventing you from moving.

your hands splayed on his perky chest, you frowned in an effort to not fall apart, and he watched you with unbridled glee. you try to bounce, and your tits shake, but he holds you in place, all your leg muscles no match for the few at work in his arms. he watches as your titties settle still, his soft little angel.

“art please,” you dig your nails into his pillowy chest, but he doesn’t even flinch as you turn his pale skin pink.

“yes please,” you whisper. he smiles, thinly veiling his glee.

“you wanna ride me?”

your pussy clenches. even bellow you, he’s so far above. so much wiser and calmer.

“i’ll let you. on one condition.”

his fingers dug into your love handles, leaving white marks on your side. he readjusted himself, burying his cock inside your further, making you huff.

“tell me,” your cunt was so tight he had to pause as it squeezed him,” that you want me to get you pregnant. say the words.”

you blinked, trying to direct any of your attention away from the pseudo-pain of having him inside you still. his demanding tone alone makes your cunt throb, and wet his fat cock even more.

“what?”

“tell me you want me to cum inside you raw.”

your head tips back, and you swallow.

“i want you,” you say, thoughtless, desperate, so cock hungry it makes arts chest heave under your talons,” to cum inside me raw. get me pregnant please. please art, just fuck me.”

art grunted, and squeezed your hips even harder.

“yeah? you want that?”

and he drew you up on his dick, biting his lip hard enough to leave indents, to split skin.

he guided you up, so that only his pink tip stayed hooked inside your tight pussy hole.

yeah was the only word you could form, and you said it over and over like it was his name, like it was a prayer.

“ok baby. whatever you want.”

and he drove himself into you, holding you above him like an oversized fleshlight. you sounded like a fleshlight too, wet and soft and malleable to him. a wet schlick permeated the room with every thrust as he held you, suspended in the air, and fucked you like you weighed nothing.

your grip dragged up to his forearm, leaving a pink trail in your wake, jaw tipping open.

“art, art, art.”

as he moves sharply in and out, pounding your pussy, you legs turn to jelly, and you feel the distinct urge to writhe. you resist, and instead jerk with his every movement, moaning pathetically.

“you’re so tight. god,” he spits through gritted teeth. it’s like he’s angry at you, and he bullies your little cunt like he hates you. but he doesn’t hate you, he loves you very much. he can’t believe your his, he can’t believe you want to be his forever. he will make you happy. he will. you just have to give him a child.

his v-line and his hips crash into the softness of your thighs and make loud slaps. he grunts as he feels the tip split you open time and time again. you feel it, a deep thud inside you every time he presses down, and you whine absently.

“art, hold me.”

“what?”

“hold me.”

immediately, he rises from his lying position and props himself up on his head board, yanking you to him again. and then you were face to face, with his tousled blonde hair and blue, honest eyes, and his beautiful face. just as you asked, he held you. two strong arms encircled you waist, pushing your tits up on his chest.

digging his heels into the bed, he began pumping, buried so deep that he could only work the last increments of his cock into you. your eyes are misty, are big and desperate. your open mouth

"you ok?"

"yeah. I love you."

"mm."

and he kissed you again, tongue pawing at the inside of your mouth, like a kitten at a ball of yarn. he moaned rhymically, with every beat of your little heart. every moment you lived as his was total pleasure. you inched your hips forwards and back, against the force of his thrusts and kissed the side of his mouth, his cheek, his neck.

“you’re so beautiful,” he huffs,”you’re so pretty. i’m gonna get you pregnant.”

“please.”

“yeah, i know you want that.”

“yeah, i want it.”

you fuck yourself on him, and he kisses you again, harder, messier, noses smushing and tongues moving against each other.

“oh,” he says, and you know he’s close. so you say him what he wants to hear. what you know he’s wanted to hear this whole time. your clit presses against his pelvis, and as you tip over the edge you give him what he needs, like a good girl. friend. a good girlfriend.

“daddy, daddy.”

and it’s over. his grip tightens, pressing you harder against him so you can’t move at all in his lap. his hips stutter, and he lets out a grunting, groaning whine into your cheek, into your ear.

his balls tighten and twitch, and a fat load spurts inside you, clinging to your cervix and dribbling out of your spasming hole.

“fuck, god.”

one arms stays around your back, the other reaches up to your neck, to caress the skin and reach up into your hair. to stroke your jaw with his thumb as you both pant, slack jawed and satisfied.

“fuck.”

“art?”

“yeah?”

“i bet that did it. i bet i’m pregnant.”

“i bet you are. are you scared?”

you looked at each other and smiled, wide and goofy, forehead to forehead.

“no. are you? i really mean it, you’re never getting rid of me now.”

“darn.”