Tumgik
#and I guess the Captain too lmao
ghetsis · 8 months
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every time I make an NPC, I always end up wanting to make them an OC lmao
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ywpd-translations · 1 year
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Ride 741: Danchiku's “shout”
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Pag 1
1: In their eyes,an unshakable will....!!
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Pag 2
3: Ahhhh
4: Danchiku is exhaling!! For so long!!
3.... 4....
5: 5 seconds!!
Ahh
6: No, he's exhaling even more!!
8... 9.... 10 seconds!!
Ahhhhh
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Pag 3
1: 11 seconds.... 12 seconds!!
3: He's emptying his lungs using all his muscles around them!!
5: This is bad!!
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Pag 4
1: It's coming!!
2: “Panda shout”
“It's a breathing technique”
“I become twice as fast”
The onw who reaches the sensor line first wins this race!!
If I don't get ahead now
3: He'll catch up!!
4: Ahhh
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Pag 5
5: Filled up of “fresh”!!
6: Panda....
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Pag 6
1: Shout!!
Hiigaruaaagh!!
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Pag 7
1: Hiigaruaaagh!!
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Pag 8
1: He caught up to me!!
2: Twice as fast!!
3: Kuaaaaagh
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Pag 9
1: We entered the last curve!!
And Danchiku is still accelerating!!
2: This is Danchiku at “100%”!!
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Pag 10
1: Cough cough
This is so hard!!
2: 300km left until the sensor line!!
3: Catch up, catch up, catch up
Catch up!!
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Pag 11
1: Sugimoto Terufumi!!
2: Kuaaaaaa
200m left!!
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Pag 12
1: Cough
Cough
2: We're all both human beings
We all have limbs, and a head
Danchiku, and Onoda, and Naruko too
3: We're all human beings!!
4: Our bikes aren't all that different
My Colnago is ligh and fast!!
5: So, I'll catch up
I'll catch up!!
6: I should catch up!!
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Pag 13
1: I watched it, their running
3: I watched them from the sidelines
For three years!!
4: Onoda!!
Onoda-kun!!
Sakamichi!
Pedaaal!!
5: Doesn't matter how hard it was for them
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Pag 14
1: They never gave up!!
3: Calm down, heart
Calm down, breath
4: Panda shout? Bamboo Hop Shot?
5: You're working hard,didn't you, Danchiku?
That's nice
6: Then I'll indulge you and let you practice with me!!
Kuaaaaaa
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Pag 15
2: They left Onoda and the others behind.. so the race is on this lap!!
Nii-chan!! On!!
They're coming!!
3: Danchiku and Sugimoto
4: 100m left!! This will settle it!!
They both started the final sprint!!
Danchiku is ahead!! And he's smiling!!
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Pag 16
1: Sorry, Sugimoto-san
As expected, you ran and practiced in Sohoku with no breaks for three years
2: But
It's over now!!
3: I'm sorry, but give up please!!
4: Sugimoto!!
5: Nii-chan!!
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Pag 19
2: Kuaaaaaagh
4: Ju... just now....
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Pag 20
1: They arrived at the same time.... on
2: At the end.... Sugimoto stretched ahead with a long sprint...
Who knew he could do something like that!!
3: Nii-chan really is amazing, on!!
4: But
A tie at this moment means that-
On
5: This race
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Pag 21
1: Hasn't ended yet!!
It's a suddent death match until they settle this!!
2: A long.... sprint...
You still had.... something like that....
4: Good job.... my Colnago-chan, good job
5: No... now....!!
Should we go another lap, Danchiku?!
6: This guy.... he doesn't give up!!
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wallofshrek · 3 months
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woah first art post on this blog in like 6 fucking years... and it's a woomy in distress
(they may not look distressed because they're fucking mindjacked, but trust me. this woomy? distressed as fuck.)
rant about the method under the cut
this was mostly just an experimental piece for me and i'm not sure if the experiment was a success??? but i'm vibing with it. minimal after-editing done on this, just kinda fucked with contrast and brightness a little bit to try and make the colors pop more.
done on paper, lined with my fucking. probably 10 year old or something microns. colored with ohuhu alcohol markers as well as some colored pencil and quite a bit of gel (and glitter gel) pen. unfortunately the glitter in the goop doesn't show very well through the camera, but there is a good bit of glitter there, i wanted to make it pop.
all in all this took like. 4-6 hours? over the course of two evenings. probably my longest (and i think proudest!) piece in a while.
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angrycatlovesfandoms · 5 months
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I just wrote a thousand words of star trek fanfiction on my phone on a train without puking lets go we win thissss
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sins-of-the-sea · 1 year
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"Welp, looks like we all lost. If this was traditional betting among us, Ruixiong (who betted on Rashid) and myself (on Abena) will have the split the earnings, but neither of us made it as winners. Congratulations to Ms. Allison, however."
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"Hey, it's 'who would last the longest' isn't it? It counts for something."
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"What I'm baffled with is the fact that Guy actually got a lot of cash for losing a bet."
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"Phi failed so spectacularly, Guy got pity money. Lots of it."
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"Shut the fuck up. What is Guy going to do with that money anyway? We're well provided for and Gio can always make gold."
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"I don't know, let's ask-"
The hold is empty.
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"Guy??!! NOW where did he run off to??"
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Don't look at the nightclub full of hot, sweaty, half-naked sexy men dancing up to Guy and pouring drink all over themselves, let him have this.
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lord-squiggletits · 2 years
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Getaway and the whole mutiny arc literally is one of the most disappointing things in all of phase 2 lmao and it’s not that I’m like “oooh Getaway should’ve been a perfect angel who was right and a better captain than Rodimus” it’s more that I would’ve liked to have him NOT immediately descend into cartoonish levels of pure evil and for him to have gotten to make a point about Rodimus/Megatron being shit captains besides the final confrontation between him and Rodimus. Like goddamn I understand now why there are so many Getaway fans/Megatron haters because I’m pretty sure if I didn’t come into this continuity as a Megatron simp I would hate him too
#like it's just... ugh i guess the early cancellation was part of it but like#(holding hands together)#getaway was literally right that it was unfair and ridiculous for the LL to accept an ex genocidal dictator as their captain without questio#he was right about rodimus being a shit captain#and instead of him getting to be 'asshole that has a point' as a sort of rival to rodimus#he basically just went insane immediately (literally insane)#and then what the story ended up being was like#getaway is just a delusional mentally ill asshole with no redeeming traits except his sad backstory#like ugh HE WAS PRETTY MUCH LITERALLY MADE MENTALLY ILL TOO#'getaway wants primus himself to come and tell him he's right' was literally a serious thing that happened#the characters more or less outright stated he had primus apotheosis (not like diagnosed but this is a narrative so we're meant to#take the implication as such)#and then getaway died one of the most brutal on screen deaths faced by anyone except maybe the people who died in grindcore#like it's just so fucking over the top how much getaway became a moustache twirling villain and was cast as pathetic in every possible way#and then got killed in the most horrible way possible#and then afterwards the mutiny isn't even spoken of besides 'oh i forgive you uwu'#JRO put fucking megatron in the final panel of the LL quantum copy as if the mutiny was completely solved#as if megatron was just one of the boys lmao#just leaves such a bad taste in my mouth when i think too hard about it#negativity#squiggposting
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princekirijo · 1 year
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Three years to come up with a design? Dayum you must really care about it a lot. Even if you weren't thinking about it most of the time, you must still care about it an awful lot to keep going back. That's impressive man I bet it'll be great
Yep! I'm honestly surprised at myself because normally I get bored of stuff and move on but Captain AU is just something really close to my heart and has been for about 5 years lol
Pimpernel himself has gone through roughly 15 design iterations in those 3 years would you believe 😅 comparing them they all look similarish but have key differences (one day I might post all of them but I wouldn't think about doing that until like I have a final design ofc). I think just designing personas in general is something I'm really interested in (I mean I do ramble a lot about persona designs because I just think the concept is so so cool)
It is kinda funny to me that in that same time period Lugh has undergone 1 design change, Mordred 2 design changes and Percy none (but I haven't started him lmao 💀).
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tojisun · 4 months
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Poor poor hockey! Simon :(
he lost and now the only thing to make him feel better is a good bj
this made me twitch so here u are my love !!!
!! comfort/smut - minors dni; hockey au; praises (in a tender way and but also in a kink way); D/s-ish; some semblance of plot ig // 2.4k words (LMAO)
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the horn blows, marking the end of the game and, with that, the end of spec gru’s season.
it was heartbreaking to watch the way the boys' bodies slump, their loss descending onto them like heavy rain. the arena shakes, screams from the opposing team's fans piercing your ears, but you can't blame them, really—they won on home ice, against the leviathan of the league. it is a tremendous win for them, and a devastating loss for your side.
you feel your hand getting squeezed and you turn, looking at johnny's fiancee, seeing the way her own face is crumpled in her sadness.
"i guess that's that, huh?" she says, comforting, her voice a quiet whisper that was almost devoured by the loud cheers.
sometimes you forget that she's an athlete too; that she feels things a lot more intense than you do because she understands the grapple. the desperation. the way how everything you give and everything you put out is, at the end, not enough.
you sniffle, holding her hand tighter.
"i'm so proud of 'em," you say wetly, unable to compartmentalize your grief.
she laughs, the sound of it so empty of any humour but not any less kind.
“i am too.”
you both turn your gazes back to the rink and watch the teams shake hands with each other, the players finally amiable like they hadn’t just been tussling on ice, all sparked by the sharp tension that buzzed throughout their play.
you watch as simon takes a lap, patting the backs of his team members with his lips pursed, but otherwise he is put together. and yet here you are, shaking, lips wobbling, nose twitching because you are trying your best not to cry. it isn’t like you were the one who lost so you wonder why your heart twinges with so much pain; why is it that you are the one holding back the tears?
simon turns to the crowd, roving his eyes past bodies, until they finally lock on you. his lips twitch into a smile; you give him what you hope is a big one—the type of smile that will let him know how in awe you are of him, win or not.
they skate away and you all shuffle out, preparing for the flight back home.
.
it was expected for the players to fly back home together—a semblance of normalcy even amidst the staggering defeat. it was their last attempt at showing sportsmanship; at showing the hounding media that despite the abrupt end of their season, they remained close-knit. 
simon understands it, of course. it was a media play, one that contends with the politics of the league, but it was difficult to act impartially, especially when they were making their way back, empty-handed, from the home ice of the team that had defeated them. it was difficult to not show the turmoil in their hearts, but they all managed to hold their heads up high during the exit and that was that.
they didn’t talk about it much, avoiding that last game as best as they could until the briefing, but hunger thrums in their jowls—no one was satisfied with being the second best. 
the promise of a better next season hung above them, but it is still so unreachable.
simon feels angrier than usual, unable to stop himself from taking this loss personally. like what costed them their win were only his shortcomings; like this defeat was his sole failure because he did promise to lead his team on ice, with price unable to stand as their official captain during the games. he had promised to score the most, after all, and had promised to keep the opposing puck out of price’s net, but he failed in both and, well, here they are.
back home, anguished. defeated.
he–
simon's phone rings, a quiet trill that echoes in the empty locker room. 
he shoots awake from the swirl of his thoughts, sluggish as he pulls it out of his bag. he expected it to be laswell or keller, or maybe their coach, but simon feels his world tilt when he sees your name flashing on his screen. and just like that, like he wasn’t even drowning in his self-doubt and self-hatred, simon feels like he can breathe again. 
he feels lighter, his anguish seeping out of his pores, leaving him with nothing but his flesh and his heart and his love. 
simon picks up the call, hears your voice, then he is up and running back home. 
.
there is a sense of urgency in the way he finds you, his cold body folding into the warm touch of your own. you gasped out his name, surprised at how fast you have him back in your arms after a whole season of flying and leaving and pursuing his chance at the cup—
“i’m home, petal,” simon murmurs, his voice deep and beautiful and longing, and you giggle, your eyes watering, before you nuzzle into his chest.
he breathes you in, the faint smell of ozone and rain and something distinctly flowery fills his nose, and somehow this is what grounds him, his blood spiking as desire and need fill him up instead.
and it trickles into him like wafting smoke—soft, gentle, cascading like a warm kiss. it is still intense, hungry, but it is tender. quiet. like everything about simon’s buzzed energy had transformed into this careful folding. the anger, the desperation, all of it snuffed out for a vulnerable moment.
“baby,” you begin, voice muffled from where your head is still pressed on his chest. “love, you did so well.”
he shakes, his words failing him now. 
you pull back just enough and he sees the glazed look in your eyes as you stare up at him, your lips curled in your smile. “i’m so proud of you, si.” 
his heart stutters inside the cages of his ribs, jumping, before it lodges itself in his throat. 
you giggle at his wordless tremors and press close again, your body melting onto his again, before you tip your head back to his chest but this time, instead of a nuzzle, you greet his beating heart with a kiss. one that is so light he barely feels it from his shirt, but simon feels so shaken. 
he feels so raw. 
you are holding him like he is the best thing in this world. like all his bulk and his size and his anger is still worth this softness.
“i need you,” he croaks out, unable to stop the way his feelings bloat and rage in the pit of his stomach. 
“you have all of me,” you reply, breathless, your eyes still blown open, wide and full of wonder. then they shift, turning sharper, gaining edge; still careful, coaxing, but overwhelming. “tell me, my love. tell me how you need me.”
“fuck,” simon rasps out, feeling like he’s running out of air. his fingers twitch, digging deep into your skin, feeling it mould under his touch.
he’s missed this, alright. he’s—
“mouth,” he finally manages to bite out. “wan’ feel your mouth, love.”
“okay,” you croon, kissing his pec again. “sit f’me?”
simon doesn’t even have it in him to feel embarrassed about the way he falls to his ass on the plush mattress, bouncing a little bit because of the force, before he spreads his legs open, so, so desperate. 
you have your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, canines dimpling the flesh, and simon feels like he is burning from the inside; doused with the fires of need, spark untamable, licking up, up, up.
“come on, firelily,” he rumbles, needy. “c’mere an’ kiss me.”
you huff, fond, and fall to your knees, scooting close to him. 
it was silent as you fumble with his sweats, tugging at the drawstring and grumbling when the hem gets snugged on his hips. simon chuckles, pushing your hair out of your face before he juts up just enough to give you room to slide his sweats and his boxers down.
the cool air makes him tremble and you murmur something. it was so faint that he doesn’t get to catch what it was, but his curiosity sizzles at the sight of you licking your palm, shyly with how you refuse to meet his eyes. he almost teases you, his cheeks round with giddiness, but then you wrapped your fist around his half-chub, and his sanity is razed. 
simon hisses, eyes fluttering close at the warm curl of pleasure.
jesus. he’s missed the feeling of this; your hand is softer, more supple, around his cock. it was so different from when it was his own fist rubbing himself, beating at his angrily flushed cock with desperation only for his peak to tip over mutedly, and not enough to truly satiate his hunger.
but this? fuck. 
simon doesn’t even realize he’s whimpering, his head thrown back at the curious pace of your hand, not really jerking him off but mapping along his veins almost in quiet awe. 
“‘m not gon’ last long if you–” he gasps at a particular twist. “if you keep doing that.”
“oh, no we can’t have that,” you tease, chuckling, and simon’s reply builds on the tip of his tongue, cheeky, but then you’re already moving, your back folding, your breath hitting his sensitive head.
his thighs tense in his anticipation, his stomach locking. you flit your eyes up at him, pupils blown wide in your own ragged need, before he jerks at the feeling of your tongue pressing on the underside of his cock, licking up, and teasing his leaking slit.
simon moans, guttural, his voice caught on the back of his throat. he drops his hands to his sides, fisting at the sheets as you keep licking, teasing his slit and tracing his veins, lapping at his cock so messily. 
if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re inexperienced; all sloppy and curious, like you’re attempting things you’ve probably seen in porn, but then you close the ring of your mouth around the bulbed head, suckling like it’s a goddamn loli, while your hands drop to squeeze his balls, and simon’s gone. 
“shit-!” he gasps out, battling air like he’s back on ice. 
he bucks his hips forward, unable to help himself, and only stops at the warbled sound of your surprise.
“fuck,” he hisses, hand coming up to swipe the hair from your sweaty face. “i’m sorry, darlin’. didn’t mean t’force it down. s’just that y’r so good.”
he keeps petting your cheek, overtaken by his desires and no longer able to stop the string of words trickling from his heart. “missed you lots, swee’art. missed you so much—take me deeper?”
your cheeks hollow as you hum, so obedient for him.
“yeah, jus’ like that,” simon trills, his chest rising as he breathes in deeply. his stomach flexes at the feeling of you swallowing more of him, taking his thickness past your gummy cheeks and into the wet vice of your throat. “shit, baby. christ. y’feel so fuckin’ good ‘round me. so perfect an’ wet.” he giggles, drunken in his bliss. “such a messy baby y’are. so sloppy. y’wanted my cock that much, din’ya? so hungry f’r it.”
there’s a wet slurp when he hits the deepest you could allow him, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. you choke, your body lurching in protest, but simon is at the throes of his pleasure and his rational thoughts are devoured by his gluttonous need, and simon knows it is wrong to ask but—
“hold it in? can you do that f’r me, love?” he croons, his voice curling in his euphoria.
he knows this is playing dirty; to use your weakness—the deep rumble of his voice and the gentle beckoning—to make you weak, malleable. to make you just as desperate for him because he knows all you want to do is to be good for him even when it has you straining, your eyes filling up with tears. he knows it is wrong, but he can’t help it. he wants you this way.
and you want him like this too—his desires sharpening, shaping him to be mean and dangerous. his thickness fills you up, pressing at the roof of your mouth and trapping your tongue underneath the weight of his flesh. your larynx is stretched out, stuffed, but simon is looking at you so adoringly, his own ecstasy so dizzying, so addicting.
you nod, sniffling, finally replying to his question because you want him to feel good. because you want him to lose his restraints when it comes to you.
because you want him to use you until he’s truly relaxed, his body exhausted with something beyond his heartbreak. with something beyond his loss.
simon’s lips wobble like he knows what it is you are thinking of. 
he fucks your throat that way, gentle and sometimes slipping into something so mean it makes you squirm on your knees, the muted throb of your strained legs finally turning into staticky numbness, but you don’t complain, your jaw relaxed as you let simon use you.
he growls out his praises, his words chewed on in his peaking euphoria—nose flaring, cheeks flushed red—or lilting as he teases you—pulling his cock out enough that all that is left is the head, and you whine because you want him in, please simon. wan’ more please—
“gonna cum, sweetheart. gonna cum—fuck!—gonna—”
simon throws his head back, a blinding white filling his eyes and his ears ringing. his body trembles at the intensity of his orgasm, immense pleasure overtaking every synapses in his body until all that he feels is the feverish wrap of your mouth on him.
he flicks his eyes down, panting, and twitches at the sight you make—jaw slack, eyes faraway, skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat. 
you look, fuck, you look angelic like this.
simon cups your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your teary eye. you focus back to him slowly, blinking owlishly. 
“shh,” he croons, gentle. “i’ve got you, darlin’. i’ve got you.”
a whine builds from the back of your throat and simon hums, responding to your wordless babble, trying to ease you back down from the fog. he continues to hold you even amidst his oversensitivity, waiting so patiently so he can take care of you now.
yeah, he thinks to himself as he continues to return your unblinking stare. i’m glad to be back home. 
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hope this was good :'33 once again pls dont judge me for my blatant self-indulgence hhHHHHH oki oki mwah!!
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dunmeshistash · 4 months
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Literally right after I saw one of ur Milsiril posts today I saw another person doing a Mithrun analysis with a huge focus on Milsiril only helping him bc of ulterior motives and it makes me sad :( She’s such a soft mum that would teach her children anything. If anything she’s less overbearing than my Chinese mother
What are the arguments? I don't really get what she gets from helping Mithrun. I guess the thing she would be able to get is making him fight the demon.
But like, she's no longer a canary and there isn't really much to hint that's what she wants. This is her part in Kabru's version
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My boy really fairy tale-fied his backstory, it just ends with "And from that point onward Mithrun lived only to slay demons. He ate even though he had no desire to eat. He lived on, even though he had no desire to live."
Which is objectively false, in this version it really seems like she lets him live cause he can still be used, but he can't.
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This doesn't really look like a killing machine that can be used to fight demons does it. Kabru as usual oversimplified what happened cause as he said "the world doesn't need to know personal things like that"
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Again with his timeline vs Kabru's
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Utaya started and ended while he was still recovering, 20 years from being saved to being appointed as a captain again. I know elves see time differently but even if we do the divided by 5 that's still the equivalent of 4 years of his life if he was a tallman. I don't think that's a negligible amount of time and honestly I'm happy Ryoko Kui considered that recovery from something so traumatic isn't fast or easy.
I said Milsiril only started to help with his rehabilitation after she retired because of this bit. "Mithrun. I saw a demon in Utaya" the situation from arrival to destruction was at most one year, I can't imagine she was able to leave in the middle of it just to visit Mithrun?
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So I always assumed she did it after retiring (perhaps one of the first things she did since she's still in canary uniform)
Even if she left in the middle the earliest this could have happened is 498 so at most from his 20 years of rehabilitation Milsiril was with him for 2. At the most.
To me her smile here is cause she's seeing a way to motivate him to eat
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Doesn't really look like someone sinister or with ulterior motives to me, she has her eyebrows slighty furrowed and a forced tight smile. To me it looks like she's worried. The other point is that right before this scene this is what she says
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Here she has a soft smile as she remembers that he was someone similar to her. I think she didn't kill him because she saw herself in him, and I think she tried to help him for a similar reason. "It was such a warped, convoluted place built from inferiority jealousy lies and anger" "We might have hit it off pretty well"
She isn't saying that to judge him she's saying that and acknowledging he was just like her. I don't think the fact she relates to him would have been set up right before she tries to motivate him to eat to show "ulterior motives".
If anything I think the ulterior motive she has is that she sees herself in him, and wants to help him to help herself. Which as 'ulterior motives' go I think it's fine.
Everytime I talk about Milsiril I end up with a huge text lmao, I think I might be repeating myself too but I wish I understood the arguments for a sinister Milsiril using Mithrun. I don't really see anything in the extras that could indicate that. And the biggest "proof" is a intentionally abridged version of Mithrun's backstory told by Kabru that ignores all of his interpersonal relationships in favor of a easy to understand cautionary tale.
Oh yeah, and Mithrun's bitchy past self that didn't trust or like anyone saying it,
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etherealstar-writes · 8 months
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I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 4
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pairings: lionesses x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: four
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
elton
how is everyone on this fine evening?
the REAL karate kid
great until you rudely woke me up
from my peaceful nap
stairway
L
the imposter
eh not too bad
but my friend keeps on spamming me
with these tiktok edits
neev
tiktok edits you say 👀
what of?
the imposter
these girls she's kinda obsessed with
and finds them incredibly good-looking
and wants to know who my fav is or
who i find the most good-looking
elton
ooh really?
i wanna know who
let us google em and say our opinions
the REAL karate kid
and which one did you find
the most good-looking?
the imposter
i don't really know who any of them are 😭
but they're playing football in some clips
so i'm guessing they're football players?
elton
oh 😳
stairway
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this will be interesting
earpsy
ah well describe them
so how many were there?
and who was the best looking?
i wanna keep an eye out if they
turn up on my fyp
the imposter
well there were quite a few
there was this one specific blonde
that she continuously spammed me
edits off the most
and i think she was the captain idk?
willybum
i feel like i've seen that blonde before!
i reckon she's everybody's favourite
since she's the most good-looking
stairway
what a big fat lie
elton
as if
the imposter
eh, everyone's fav?
i mean i see where people are coming
from but that's kinda stretching it ...
there are so many more players
that seem to be just as great if not better
the REAL karate kid
see
thank you
you get it
just like everyone else
someone just needs to knock
some sense into leah
and i'll gladly do it rn
BACK TF UP 🤺
lotte
who is your favourite player tho, y/n?
neev
i'd love to know too
stairway
come on, that's easy
it's gotta be stanway
right?
the REAL karate kid
y/n, my love
it's russo isn't it
elton
hey hey hey
we forgetting toone too
the REAL karate kid
shush
the imposter
um i'm still uncultured okay 😭
i don't know any of their names yet
oh but i do know one of their names
i think she's pretty cool
neev
ooh do tell who this lucky person is
that you find pretty cool
the imposter
it's lucy bronze
willybum
NAHHH
SHUT UP
stairway
NOT THAT OLD RUSTY GRANDMA 😭
OUT OF EVERYONE ELSE SHE COULD PICK
rusty metal
OI
who you calling an old rusty grandma?
stairway
YOU
WHO ELSE
rusty metal
i'm very delighted that
she is your favourite y/n
she's mine too <33
earpsy
LMAO 💀
just so you know y/n
you've broken a lot of hearts today
the REAL karate kid
lemme just go and find the nearest cliff
and fling myself off of it
stairway
i'm joining you
willybum
count me in too
the imposter
IM SORRY 😭
ALL THE LIONESSES SEEM AMAZING OKAY
I JUST ONLY KNOW ABOUT HER YET
elton
nah
you've made your choice
the imposter
YOU GUYS
it's really not that big of a deal
you all are acting like i've
personally rejected you guys
lotte
this whole thing was so funny to read omg
meado
honestly
top tier entertainment
made my day
thank you y/n
the imposter
you're welcome ...?
part five here
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professional-termite · 8 months
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imagine if the star trek tos gang had tumblr lol
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🔄 vulcanfuckerjt reblogged 1stofficerspock
😍 vulcanfuckerjt Follow
mannnn why are vulcans so.... ahfhfjfj lik????
🖖 1stofficerspock Follow
Hello captain.
😍 vulcanfuckerjt
sPOCKWHEN DJD YOU GET TUMBLR
🖖 1stofficerspock
Dr. McCoy reccommended this app to me this morning.
😍 vulcanfuckerjt
okkkk i think me and dr mccoy need to have a TALK
#in the meantime i need to purge this blog eughhhh
12 notes
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🔄 cptnjtkirk reblogged 1stofficerspock
🎶 music-by-nyota Follow
rb for reach!!
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 scottishthings-daily Follow
FLOWER OF SCOTLAND SWEEP!! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿
🇷🇺 russianthings-daily Follow
RUSSIAN ANTHEM SWEEEP!!! 🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺
🟥 redshirt-ensign Follow
who tf submitted a mitski song
🦴 bonesbonesbones Follow
i did. it reminded me of how @'cptnjtkirk feels about @'1stofficerspock :]
🖖 1stofficerspock Follow
What?
🌠 cptnjtkirk Follow
IGNOREE HIM PLEEASE
#bones istg
1.2k notes
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🔄 scottishthings-daily reblogged russianthings-daily
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 scottishthings-daily Follow
if the enterprise was a woman id want her to sit on my face
🇷🇺 russianthings-daily Follow
🤨
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 scottishthings-daily
wRONG BLOG
26.7k notes
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🔄 redshirt-ensign reblogged redshirt-ensign
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abt to go on my first mission, wish me luck!!
🟥 redshirt-ensign
med bay
56.8k notes
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🔄 cptnjtkirk reblogged klingon-commander
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this is a callout post for @'cptnjtkirk hes a vulcan fucker and a war criminal
🦴 bonesbonesbones Follow
you say that like theyre equally bad..?
🤬 klingon-commander
they are.
🌠 cptnjtkirk Follow
too bad im not actually either of those things lmao
#i wish... #not about the war criminak thing obv i mean #wait dammit spock can see this blog nvm
10 notes
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🔄 klingon-soldier-6 reblogged scottishthings-daily
🇷🇺 russianthings-daily Follow
Posting Russian things every day, day 567: Nevsky potatoes!
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😡 klingon-soldier-6 Follow
they look stupid
🇷🇺 russianthings-daily
i have your family name and home coordinates. you have 3 days to delete that post.
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 scottishthings-daily Follow
ay, laddy...@'cptnjtkirk said to quit yer fighting!
😡 klingon-soldier-6
stfu ur in love with an ugly ass spaceship
#istg you starfleet ppl are like asking to get bullied or smthn #not my fault ur easy targets
756 notes
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🔺️ engineerthrowaway74859 Follow
@'klingon-soldier-6 's full dox
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130 notes
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🔄 cptnjtkirk reblogged romulan-invasion
🗡 thereal-mrsulu Follow
@'cptnjtkirk Sir, there's an asteroid coming towards the ship at an alarming speed! 3 hours until impact!
🌠 cptnjtkirk Follow
cant we just move out of the way.? or blow it up
🗡 thereal-mrsulu
I can't, sir! Our controls are all jammed!
🪆 russianthings-nav Follow
can confirm, @'cptnjtkirk sir!! nothings working!!
🌠 cptnjtkirk
how?? how could this have happened???
😈 romulan-invasion Follow
:3
🌠 cptnjtkirk
shit
4.3k notes
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🦴 bonesbonesbones Follow
"ooo mccoy what do i do" "oooh mccoy im in love with my first officer" "ooh mccoy--" boi stfu im a surgeon not a matchmaker
#go talk to someone else if you want help with that bucko #bones rambles
2 notes
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🌠 cptnjtkirk Follow
i wish people would stop vagueposting about me :( at least @ me if ur gonna say something rude
#personal
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🔄 cptnjtkirk reblogged bonesbonesbones
🦴 bonesbonesbones Follow
@'cptnjtkirk is a massive simp
#not what i meant but thanks i guess
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sugoi-and-spice · 3 months
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Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission
Summary: A Play Nice AU Chapter, in which, rather than taking the high road and trying to build a real relationship with the girl he's been sextorting for weeks, Tomura Shigaraki baby-traps her instead.
CW: Quirkless!AU, Dub-Con, Smut, Extortion, Baby-Trapping, Forced Pregnancy, Love-Bombing, Manipulation, Power Play, Possessive Shigaraki, Yandere Shigaraki, Morning Sickness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
AO3 Link
A/N: Happy fucking Father's Day readers!! Lmao! I got this AMAZING commission a while ago to write an AU of my AU (a fanfic writer's dream come true honestly), of Shigaraki baby-trapping MC and well, while it took longer then I meant it to to come out, I'm so glad that I could post it on Father' Day of all days lmao.
Anyway though, this was so much fun to write. Shigaraki has been on the journey of bettering himself for so long in Play Nice now, it was a total blast returning to form and writing him nice and scummy again.
I'd love to do more of these honestly, so as a reminder: I give discounts on Commissions that take place in my AU's.
Play Nice, Burnt Bridges, Step by Step -- all of them. They're super fun for me to write and most of the heavy-lifting of ideating and plotting has already been done for them, so I'm happy to write fics like this for cheaper. :)
Anyway, enjoy some forced parentification on this day of dads. xD
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“Hey, hey— are you alright?”
She lifted her head from where she’d been resting it against her gym locker, the coolness of the metal being the first thing to even remotely ease the headache she’d been fighting for the last three days. 
“Yeah, of course,” she tried to force a weak smile as Nejire approached her, clearly concerned, “Why do you ask?
The captain was dressed in her practice suit. And she quickly realized that so were all the other girls, most of them already making their way out the doors to the pool deck. She was the lone straggler who hadn’t even managed to undo her uniform tie yet. Nejire looked over at these girls, and then back to her, wordlessly demonstrating why that should be obvious.
She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head, “Okay, I guess I’m feeling a bit under the weather today…”
And that was the understatement of the century. She felt like absolute shit . Piling on top of that stubborn pounding in her head were a pair of really sore tits, a lethargy that stuck with her no matter how much vending machine coffee she chugged, and cramps that had shot straight out of hell and directly into her uterus.
But to be honest, she couldn’t complain too much about these ailments. In fact, she was pretty damn relieved. These were all her tell-tale signs of PMS. They were a little worse than usual this time around sure, but if that was the tradeoff for the relief of not being pregnant, she’d take it in a heartbeat. Her period was only one day late at this point and it had all but paralyzed her with fear.
Of course in retrospect, the fear did seem a bit silly. After all, Shigaraki’s creepy family doctor had warned her there might be some changes.
“I never start patients new to birth control immediately on a Long Acting Reversible Contraception,” he explained, “Especially not teenagers.”
“Why not?” she demanded, “It’s reversible, right? It’s not like you’re tying my tubes or anything.”
“No, but you never know how your body is going to react to the hormonal shift. You could develop acne, weight gain, hair growth—”
“I don’t care about that superficial stuff.”
“... Migraines, blood clots, depression,” he continued, looking at her pointedly.
She looked away, feeling a bit stupid for interrupting him now that he’d listed the more serious side-effects.
“I’m not saying you have to stay on the pill forever. But give it a few months, see how you feel on it. It can help us better determine which long-term birth control is best for your body without any unnecessarily invasive procedures.”
She shuddered at the very thought of being stuck in this set-up with Shigaraki for months. She hoped he’d get bored of her sooner rather than later.
Well, on the brightside, at least this sketchy-ass doctor seemed to be as interested in looking under her skirt as she was having him down there. However, this still left the ever so pertinent issue of:
“Okay, but there’s still the issue of getting the pills. No pharmacy is going to give me these without signed parental consent.” She had the always convenient Japanese purity culture to thank for that.
Ujiko simply smiled and pulled out a wheel of birth control pills from his medical bag right then and there.
“Consider these the same as this appointment,” he said, cupping his hands over hers and placing the wheel firmly into her palm, “ Off the record. ”
And then the rest of the “appointment” had descended into one of extremely thinly-veiled intimidation that bizarrely enough, she’d relied on Shigaraki of all people to save her from. By that point, she’d been scared so shitless she had very little argument left in her to try and reason him into just giving her the damn IUD.
The regret of not standing her ground on the issue did hit her later that night on the train home. Particularly when she thought over the fact that the way they were keeping these pills off the record was by having her pick up her refills through Shigaraki. The idea of giving him even more power over her like that made her feel sick to her stomach. And yes, while logically she knew that he had just as much motivation to keep her from getting pregnant as she did (she had a feeling All for One would not take too kindly to his star successor knocking up a lowly commoner such as herself), she still just had a bad feeling about the whole thing.
So she’d resolved herself on her first refill day to completely lay into Shigaraki for any level of tomfoolery he may get up to in this situation. There would be no forgetting, no being too busy to pick up the pills for her, absolutely nothing. She was ready to rain full fire and brimstone on him if there was even a hint of bullshit.
But to her surprise (and relief), she hadn’t even crossed the threshold of his bedroom before he was tossing a new pack to replace her wheel with. Simple and nonchalant, and then he was just as quick as always to badger her about getting her clothes off already, get on the bed already, break up with your boyfriend already.
It was the same old, same old — for better or for worse. Even if she couldn’t trust Tomura Shigaraki himself, that action had at least ensured that she could trust his own desire for self-preservation.
And that was better than nothing she supposed.
Back in the locker room, Nejire asked her, “Do you think you’re coming down with something?”
She smiled at her friend, joking, “Nothing I don’t come down with every month.”
Nejire tilted her head in confusion for a moment before the lightbulb visibly lit up in her head.
“Ohhhhh,” Nejire nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, Aunt Flow can be a real meanie sometimes, huh?”
She laughed, then winced as the action worsened the throbbing in her head,  “Damn it— you can say that again.”
Nejire’s brows furrowed and she brought a hand to the small of her friend’s back, “Hey, why don’t you take this afternoon off?”
She looked back to her, surprised, “Oh no, I couldn’t…”
“Sure you could!” Nejire chirped, “And honestly, you probably should. We’re working on our weakest strokes today. I had you down to work on your fly.”
Visible dread filled her as she thought about doing that much undulation in her current state.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nejire laughed, “Seriously, go home. We’ll miss you, but we love you too. So we want you to take care of yourself.”
She debated a little more internally, one other loose thread dropping into her mind’s eye.
“If I do… Do you mind—”
“I’ll let Mirio know,” she shot her a wink as she clarified, “ After practice. I’ll let him know you just need the peace and quiet.”
She smiled at Nejire, genuinely grateful. This. This right here was what made all of the bending over backwards she did to fit in and please others worth it. To be cared about by such a good person. 
The warmth of that care stayed with her all the way out to the school gates, where she was then immediately filled with dread upon realizing that she’d need to go in one of two directions depending on where she was going after school: the train station home, or the walk to Shigaraki’s.
And just which direction she was scheduled to go today.
She let out a long groan, anguished and loud enough to startle a couple members of the going home club that passed her. For once though, she didn’t care about her reputation, she was too focussed on what a goddamn nightmare she was falling into.
She pulled out her cellphone with a sigh. Yes she knew the effort was probably futile, but damn her if she didn’t at least try.
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Yup. She could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. She sighed as she shoved her phone back into her bag and started the very slow trek over to Shigaraki’s. 
“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Shigaraki said as he looked her over his doorway, “You look like shit.”
She shot him a wholly unimpressed look as she shoved past him into his bedroom.
“Yeah, I fucking told you.” 
Shigaraki, surprisingly, didn't have anything to say about her tone, even with her brusqueness towards him being more than usual. He just watched her drop down face first onto his bed and curl her legs up into her chest.
She sighed at the slight relief the position gave her. While dealing with Shigaraki’s antics was about the last thing she wanted right now, she supposed that at least she could be grateful for how much closer his apartment was to her school then her own home was. It saved her a good fifty-minutes of white-knuckling a train stanchion to keep down her groans of pain. Now at least she could get the relief of laying down much sooner.
If only for a little bit.
“What’s going on?”
She bristled at Shigaraki’s voice, the unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t going to be able to truly relax right now. And while there didn’t seem to be any entendre or even impatience in his question, the fact that his voice was getting closer to her was enough to make her suspicious.
“My head aches, my back aches, my boobs ache — everything aches,” she grumbled down into his sheets, “And I feel like I’ve been donkey-kicked straight in the uterus.”
“You start your period or something?”
He didn’t sound sarcastic when he asked it, not that typical boy way of asking any time a girl did something they considered “moody”. It was a genuine question. But it irritated her all the same. 
Everything seemed to be irritating her these days.
“About to,” she answered, “It’s like a day late, but it’s definitely coming.”
She felt the bed shift a bit as he sat next to her.
“Are you nauseous at all?”
Her brows furrowed, a bit confused by the interest.
“I guess a little,” she answered, because even though it was mild, there was a certain turn in her stomach that wasn’t unlike motion sickness, “But honestly, I think it’s just from the pain. This has been going on for like three days.”
“Have you taken anything for it?”
She could’ve laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed by the reminder of all her futile attempts to alleviate this. Because of course he was looking for a quick fix so they could fuck already.
“I’ve taken everything for it,” she groaned, “Nothing’s working.”
He just hummed in response, and then she could feel the sheets behind her dip a bit as he repositioned himself. Into what orientation, she wasn’t sure. She was about to turn her head back and ask him what he was doing when she felt his hand featherlight across her hip.
And between her legs.
“No, Shigaraki please,” she whined, pulling he knees closer into her chest, “I’m not kidding, I’m seriously in a lot of pain—”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Tell that to your hand then,” she snapped as his fingers tried to wiggle their way between her clenched thighs.
“I mean I’m not doing anything for me. This is for you.”
“Oh is it now,” she deadpanned.
“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he insisted, more irritably this time, “Orgasms help with cramps, right?”
She stilled, sufficiently stumped by that particular statement. Because yes, she could say from experience that they absolutely did. She’d spent many a nasty period with her fingers latched to clit to chase that particular path of relief. 
…but why the hell did Shigaraki know that?
She gasped as she suddenly felt the gentle roll of her clit under three fingers. Apparently, in her moments of distracted deliberation, Shigaraki managed to push his hand past the plush lock of her thighs and under the hem of her panties.
“Sh-Shigaraki…” she whined, pushing her elbow blindly and weakly back towards him.
He caught it gently in his free palm and, rather than trying to pin or strain it in whatever which way he desired, like usual, he just held it there. Didn’t even hold it in place really, just shielded himself against its determined path towards his ribs.
“I’m serious,” he said, uncharacteristically soft, “I’m trying to help you.”
She finally mustered up the strength to — despite how much her aching abdomen hated her for it — turn and glower at Shigaraki.
“No funny business?” she pressed.
He settled his own flat expression on her, “When have I ever been funny?”
More times than she’d like to admit honestly, but she got what he was saying here. He was a pretty serious, straightforward person on principle. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t pull cheap tricks, and, shockingly enough, he didn’t typically lie. Frustrating as it was, Tomura Shigaraki was pretty much always unapologetically himself and he always did what he wanted.
So if he said that he was doing this to help her, then she supposed that she didn't actually have a lot of reason to distrust him.
Plus, his fingers hadn’t stopped their soft, but affective ministrations between her legs, and the pleasant sparks of heated relief they were sending through her were undeniable.
She turned back onto her side with a sigh that was half-exasperation, half pleasure.
“Fine,” she said, throwing back quickly before he got too victorious, “But fuck around and I’ll kick you.”
Shigaraki just chuckled, a soft throaty sound that shouldn’t have sent the chills up her spine that it did, “Yeah, yeah…”
In one motion, careful not to jostle her too much, Shigaraki both pulled her back and scooched himself closer, until her back was nestled snug against his surprisingly firm chest and her head laid in the crux of his bicep.
With this new closeness he was able to be a bit more deliberate with the angle and pressure he used to rub at her swollen sex. And, while she hated to admit it, the increased blood flow between her legs was causing the pressure within her to build quite a bit faster than usual. Enough so that it had her letting go of the tension in her neck and joints — the automatic stress reaction she had to any of Shigaraki’s displays of intimacy — and letting the weight of her head drop fully into his embrace.
A shuddering sigh left Shigaraki at that clear relinquishing of control, of the way she truly let herself lay back and relax into him. It gave him the encouragement he needed to enjoy her to the fullest extent that he wanted her as well, burying his nose deep into her hair. 
He started to stroke wider circles around her, the flats of his fingers never leaving her clit, but now allowing the tips to dip softly into her entrance. He didn’t push them in at all past his first knuckles, just enough to catch some of that growing wetness and spread it all across her fluttering lips.
“A-Ah—” she gasped out, “Sh-shit…”
“Like that?” he rasped, hot against her ear.
She bit her lip, nodding needily, “Mm— Mm-hmm…”
He groaned at the response, doubling down on that motion as he started to stud long, hot kisses down the back of her jaw and neck. The feeling, so gentle and intimate and good in combination to the way he worked her sex, had her unconsciously rocking her hips into his touch, and back into his own.
Vaguely through the haze, she could feel the familiar outline of his stiff cock against the cleft of her ass, but shockingly he didn’t try to grind it against her for relief. If anything actually, when her own hips moved unconsciously back against it, he actually shifted his own hips away, anglind them down so his erection pushed into the bed instead. As if he didn’t want her to feel it, that he was concerned about her feeling pressured by its presence.
She didn’t have the chance to think too much into that though, not when his fingers were coaxing her closer to the edge by the second. The mess between her legs was obscene at this point, through teary eyes she could see the overflow of it spreading wide across her thighs and pooling down in the sheets. 
“God look at you, so fucking wet,” he groaned, lips having made it down to her shoulder and staying there so that he could have a better view of her writhing under his touch, “You needed this, huh? Fucking needed me…”
She buried her face into his arm to muffle her moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but also not wanting him to stop.
By some act of God, Shigaraki didn’t push for that answer either. She wasn’t sure why he’d abandoned his typical demands and taunts, didn’t threaten to stop until she gave him the verbal submission and begrudging praise he always wanted. Nor did she stop to think about why, she just let the gratitude course through her, spurred further and wider by the waves of heat rushing through her body, threatening — promising — to overflow.
Shigaraki could feel that axiomatic tension in her body, the boiling point it promised, and sped up his hand to stoke the flames.
“You’re close aren’t you? Oh yeah, you’re close…” his kisses turned to nips at her neck between progressively more demanding growls, “Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”
Fuck, hearing those last words spill from his mouth should not have done what it was doing to her. But it was speeding up her peak, and it was speeding it up audibly.
“Yeah, yeah that’s good, really good. Let it go. Go ahead, be a good girl and let it go.”
She cried out, her arching back forcing her face forward and mouth unmuffled as finally, finally her body went blissfully loose, the pain of the past few days overtaken by waves of heat and pleasure. One after the other, her hormone-driven sensitivity wrung out multiple orgasms, and his frantic fingers were happy to work her through each one until she was begging him to stop.
“Good girl, yeah, yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl,” he continued to praise, returning time and again to that phrase he could feel her getting unconsciously excited over, “That’s my good girl…”
It was just a few blurry moments of consciousness after that. She was pretty sure she whined something like “too much” to him at some point, and he whispered back something that she was sure was just utterly debauched right back. Or maybe it was sweet nothings, he had really favored those by the end of this escapade after all. 
Whatever it all was, she supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered in those seconds of labored breaths and fluttering lashes was the beautiful bliss and relief that finally overtook her body. That allowed her to immediately fall asleep in his arms.
Shigaraki held her there for a long time after. He raked his eyes greedily across her body, letting himself carve every detail deep into his memory. He knew he didn’t need to, not anymore. Her boyfriend, her parents, hell, whether or not she got into Todai with him, it was all a non-issue now. There was no reason for him to lose this anymore. She wasn’t going anywhere in life without him. He was going to be able to revel in this sight for the rest of his life now. And he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was for that.
He chuckled a bit at that. Well, maybe lucky wasn’t the right word. This was all by design after all, weeks of very deliberate planning and deception. It was just like he’d always been taught. It didn’t matter what hand you’ve been dealt — and Tomura Shigaraki had certainly been dealt a shit hand in a lot of ways — a real winner made his own luck. 
Sensei would be mad, Shigaraki knew that much. Everyone would be mad in fact, but he didn’t care. He was just following the fundamental lesson Sensei himself had instilled in him the day they met. 
Take whatever you want, and fuck all the rest.
Several minutes into hearing those sweet deep breaths of unconsciousness from the beautiful girl in his arms, Shigaraki finally peeled his fingers away from her cunt.
And slid a wide hand up to cradle her tummy.
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It was dark when she woke up, not a single one of Shigaraki’s many monitors or television lit the windowless room. That was odd for a couple of reasons, the first of which being that the overhead lighting had definitely been on when she’d dozed off. The second of which was that any time Shigaraki wasn’t preoccupied with helping her study or studying her, he was chronically attached to at least one screen, if not multiple, so it was more than a bit odd for him to have zero on. The reason for the lack of blue light however became quickly apparent as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.
Shigaraki wasn’t here.
She was totally alone in his room, alone and tucked into his bed. Had he gone to the bathroom or something? But then why would all the lights be off? It seemed like he’d probably been gone for a while. Weird…
She threw off the covers and flipped her legs around with much more ease than she’d done anything over the last three days, much to her relief. However long she’d been out, the sleep had clearly done her some good. The pounding in her head and pelvis had finally ceased, perhaps just in time for her to actually start her period. She did feel some dampness between her legs after all. Although…
Her face heated up as she remembered the much more likely cause of that.
Damn it, she thought with a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe that she actually let him do that to her, for her. He was going to get entirely the wrong idea from it. The idea that she might actually like him and want to spend time with him, that there was some kind of connection between them that extended past the time she was required to spend with him to keep him satisfied. And she absolutely could not deal with that.
Being his little sex toy was one thing. A demoralizing thing, yes, but a manageable one. She’d seen the way Shigaraki treated things he objectified — games and magazines and the like. He got bored of them quickly. And if she was one of those things in his eyes, then eventually he’d get bored with her too and she’d be free.
If he was attached to her though? Had found connection in her and a desire to keep her in his life? She didn’t even want to consider that nightmare scenario.
She made her way out into the hallway, looking up and down from the empty bathroom on one end of the hall to the top of the staircase on the other. She didn’t have to contemplate the lack of presence on this floor for long though, when she heard Shigaraki’s voice echoing up from downstairs, talking emphatically to Kurogiri, she assumed. 
She couldn’t hear exactly what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was being particular about it. “Don’t overcook” and “perfect” were a few of the words she managed to catch, so it was about food, maybe? The accompanying sounds of sizzling pans and clanking cookware would certainly support that. As would the smell that suddenly hit her.
It wasn’t an unpleasant smell by any means. In fact, it was salmon, one of her favorites. But for some reason at that moment, the smell hit her with a particular intensity that made her feel overwhelmed.
And really fucking nauseous.
She just barely made it to the toilet at the end of the hall, not even fully down to her knees by the time she was emptying her stomach into the bowl. It wasn’t just a brief moment of sickness either. The bouts were loud and long, she was sure that it echoed throughout the entire apartment. It left her red-faced, skin covered and hair clumped with sweat, not to mention still gagging long after she had nothing left to gag on.
A hand she barely even noticed came to rest on the small of her back in the midst of it all. It was only in the aftermath, spent and dry-heaving that she could process the fact that it was Shigaraki, kneeling at her side, patiently stroking small circles into her clammy skin and encouraging her softly.
“Let it out. Just let it all out.”
She groaned once she finally seemed to have a solid thirty seconds of dry, steady breath. And Shigaraki used that respite to nudge a glass of water into her hands.
“Here.”
She didn’t argue or agree, just took it from him with shaky hands, tossing half of it just into her mouth to swish around and spit the remaining bitterness from her tongue.
 “Drink some of it too.”
She nodded shakily, still too drained and disoriented to be irritated with his telling her what to do, or suspicious of the fact that he was being so nice. 
And still, as she took entirely too long to finish the rest of her water with timid little sips, he just knelt on the ground with her, moving the hand on her back to rest on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where a bruise would undoubtedly form. 
Finally, after a long, silent stretch, she managed to croak out, “W-What time is it?”
“Only seven,” he answered, “Kurogiri’s got dinner almost ready downstairs. Seared salmon, brown rice, avocado salad—”
She whined, shaking her head roughly at the very implication of food.
“Don’t like salmon?”
“I-I do… It’s just—” she gagged a little as she remembered that smell that had set this all off in the first place, “Th-The smell right now. It’s too much…”
“Oh yeah…” he nodded understandingly, muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out. It sounded kind of like, “Heightened” and “Read about that…”
Her brows furrowed a bit, frustrated and confused. She was getting the feeling that he was really not telling her something.
“W-What?”
Shigaraki just waved her off, “No, that’s fine, that’s fine. Salmon’s not the only thing he made. There’s sauteed spinach, wakame tofu soup, toasted—” 
Jesus Christ, was Kurogiri cooking for an army down there or something? 
Well, whoever it was all for, and as delicious as it all sounded in theory, imagining those foods in practice right now was making her feel sick all over again.
“Mm-mm, Mm-mm!” she whined, shaking her head again.
She didn’t want to risk opening her mouth right now, lest she blow chunks all over the front of Shigaraki’s shirt. Although wouldn’t that be a nice little serving of karma for him…
“You need to eat something,” he insisted, more lecturey than she’d ever heard him, but with a strange gentleness to his voice as well, “And you need to drink some more too. You’re totally dehydrated.”
She shook her head more emphatically at that, which only resulted in her falling forward into his chest. 
He caught her before she could fall any further, scolding her not too harshly, in fact, a bit whimsically, “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole time?”
She pulled her head back to look at him, a confused furrow in her brows that brought the corners of his lips up.
“It’s not a bad look on you to be honest. All weak and petulant,” he brought a hand to pinch lightly at her cheek, “It’s kinda cute actually.”
Her eyes narrowed, finally feeling her stomach steady enough in her to be annoyed. He chuckled, just as amused and endeared by this look as the last. 
“Well how about okayu?” he offered with a patronizing little lilt, “And maybe some ginger tea?”
He clearly wasn’t going to let this go. And infuriatingly, he was right not to. She definitely was in no shape to go home on this empty stomach. 
She sighed.
“Yeah… Yeah okay.”
Going at her own shaking, snailish pace, Shigaraki helped her up onto her legs, pulling her immediately into his side as he led her back towards his bedroom. Normally she’d protest, stick an elbow right into his ribs and storm on ahead of him, but honestly she needed the help right now. So she sucked it up and let him lead her back into his bed. 
But that didn’t stop her from eying him suspiciously as he propped his pillows up behind her and tucked her back in under his comforter, the overall way he doted and fretted over her, even stopping to look back at her one more time from the doorway before he returned downstairs to give Kurogiri the new marching orders.
She dropped her head back against the pillows when finally alone, a bad feeling settling heavier and heavier in her stomach. This was beyond weird, the way he was acting. Sure, the guy was overbearing and constantly demanding of her attention, stupidly needy even. But doting? Not only willing but eager to put her needs ahead of his own? Caring deeply about her actual well-being and not just what he wanted to be her well-being? This was all way too out of character for him.
“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean. N-Not just the Doctor either… If um… If anything’s bothering you.”
She sighed at the memory. Alright, maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d shown at least some capability and even interest in her wants and well-being, he wasn’t a complete monster.
But still, all of this? The cooing and the caring and the, erm, servicing even that he’d done? It felt like too much. Like she was missing something really key about it all.
Like something was wrong .
Whether she ended up getting lost in that train of thought for long, or Kurogiri had already had some okayu whipped up downstairs, she wasn’t sure, but she was startled by how quickly it seemed that Shigaraki returned with a breakfast tray in hand. She cocked her head as he set it up over her lap, this was a lot more robust than she was expecting, and, she realized as she examined everything on the tray, a lot more stocked as well.
There was okayu, front and center for her, yes. But also on the tray was another small bowl of soup (looked like the wakame that Shigaraki had mentioned, a thing of plain yogurt (the really fancy kind that came in the glass jars), a glass of orange juice…
And a little dish of four pills. 
Painkillers or antiemetics maybe? They looked more like vitamins…
“Go ahead and start with the okayu if you want,” Shigaraki explained as he climbed up into the bed next to her, “But I want you to try and get some of the wakame and yogurt down too…”
As he settled down, his legs flush with her own, he continued to rattle off instructions and explanations for the rest of her tray, sending her mind completely spinning, faster and faster, like a goddamn Gravitron.
And she was ready to get the fuck off.
“...if nothing else though, take the vitamins. You need the folate, calcium, iron, and the omega-3 especially, since you don’t want the salmon—”
“Okay, stop, stop, stop !”
Shigaraki paused, having the audacity to look at her like she was crazy for snapping. 
“Jesus—what the hell are you even talking about Shigaraki?!” she demanded, “What’d you say, folate? What? What is all this?”
He cocked his head, clearly playing innocent. Whatever this was, he was clearly enjoying the slow unraveling of it all.
“What’re you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about!” she snapped, “All this attention and doting and food stuff! What the hell is this all about?!”
He just smiled back at her, taking in how pretty she looked, even when mad (especially when mad sometimes), God, to think that this really was his forever now. He wondered if they had a girl, how much she’d look like her. He hoped a lot…
“I just want to make sure you’re getting all the vitamins and nutrients you need…”
He reached over then, spreading his hand flat against her stomach.
“ Both of you .”
She froze.
No.
No, he couldn’t mean—
She tried to speak, tried to ask what the ever-loving- fuck he was talking about, but her mouth had seemed to go dry. She tried several times to open and wet it a bit, but every time she did, it felt like her throat was closing too. It took at least four desperate attempts for her to finally force out one rasped:
“... what? ”
Shigaraki’s grin widened, and he started to rub circles gently across her belly.
“You’re gonna look so cute, all big and round with my kid,” he giggled suddenly as he remembered something, “Oh, and your tits too. I wonder how big they’re gonna get…”
She stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing. Everything but un-fucking-existing.
He couldn’t be serious. He was fucking with her. He had to be fucking with her!
“Th-That’s not funny.”
His grin evened a little, not disappearing outright, but settling away some of its blissful excitement into something more coyly victorious.
“I said it already,” he reminded, “When have I ever been funny?”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“N-No. No, no, no this isn’t— there’s no way—”
“I’ve got the tests ready when you need to pee, but I think it’s pretty clear. These are all the symptoms I read about.”
“No!” she insisted, “N-No, no— this is, it’s my period! It’s just a day late, it’s not—!”
He chuckled, “I know the symptoms can be similar, but come on. When’s the last time you’ve hurled like that thanks to your period? And the sensitivity to smell? You know this is different.”
Crumbling, every argument she could possibly think of was crumbling to dust before she could even get the thought fully formed. And cruel, vicious reality was more than happy to take its place.
“B-But my birth control pills…”
“Fertility pills,” he explained, his splitting-grin returning in full, “I would’ve preferred to get Clomid from the doctor, but it looks like the over the counter stuff and tracking your cycle worked just fine.”
Her stomach dropped. Pieces of memories, peculiar behaviors and nagging thoughts she’d had over the last two months falling into place. How there were stretches of times where he’d cancel their sessions, only to insist they make them up a few specific days in a row. How he wanted to go multiple rounds a lot those days. How he’d stopped wanting blowjobs from her entirely. How he seemed to only want to fuck her from behind or with her knees pressed hard into her chest, positions he could fuck her the deepest in.
And how he’d have her stay still with his cock buried in her after he came. 
Back then, she just thought he was being weird and pervy. And in a way she was right.
Horribly fucking right.
Shigaraki shifted his legs away from her so that he could bring his head down to her lap, laying his cheek blissfully against her belly. 
“Was so easy,” he hummed against her skin, “Like your body was just waiting for me to knock you up. Waiting for me to make you mine…”
His hands moved across her body, one coiling behind her back so that he could pull her tighter into him, the other lacing his fingers through her own. The fingers on her trembling left hand.
“Both of you, forever,” he growled happily, a predator who had finally and definitively sunk his teeth into his prey, “All mine.”
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angelicsoka · 7 months
Text
LAZY (SICKLY) MORNINGS AND MARRIAGE PROPOSALS, q. hughes
word count | 577 words
pairings | quinn hughes x reader
summary | where a common cold turns to the flu leaving quinn and his girlfriend to cancel their plans, leading to a lazy (sickly) valentines morning and a marriage proposal 
warnings | descriptions of vomit and other sickly bodily fluids. not proofread. no use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.
a/n | i was gonna post this for valentine’s day but never actually got around to writing it lmao, but here it is now!
a groan filled the silent room, followed by someone hurriedly throwing the blanket off of them and running to the bathroom. the sound of heaving could be heard as the other person rolled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom to help. 
quinn rubbed her back with one hand, the other making a makeshift ponytail with her hair as she vomited what little of what remained in her stomach. she sat back against the wall once she had finished, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“you okay?” she shook her head no at quinn’s question, fearful if she spoke she would begin to heave once more. “let me get you some water.” 
she rarely got sick, but when she did it was bad. she gratefully accepted the glass, sipping lightly. it eased the burning in her throat enough for her to speak, “you really shouldn’t be by me, quinny. the team can’t have their captain out sick.” she coughed roughly, trying to clear the flem from her throat.
“i’ve already told you: they can handle a game or two without me. i want to make sure you're okay.” he tried to conceal his own cough as him just clearing his throat, but she knew.
“damnit, i knew you would get sick. i told you!” she tried to come off as angry but she was too tired to portray an emotion she didn’t actually feel. quinn helped her off the ground, the two moseying their way back to bed. she sighed contently when her head hit the soft pillow, shivering slightly as she curled into the blankets. she began to shiver more as quinn got settled, unable to find warmth.
“cold?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. she moved as close as she physically could, in search of warmth from him. she hummed as she settled in his arms, her boyfriend placing a gentle kiss on her head. “well, this is one way to spend valentine’s day.” 
“don’t remind me.” she muttered, turning slightly to look at him. “i’m sorry i’m sick. i know how hard it was to get that reservation and you got me that nice dress and–” quinn shushed her quietly, placing yet another kiss, this time on her shoulder.
“don’t worry about it.” she turned over fully to face him. “it does have me thinking though.”
“yeah?” quinn smiled softly at her. “about what?”
“about how i want to spend the rest of my life with you, ya know, through sickness and health and all that shit.” she giggled, a hint of confusion on her face. they had talked about marriage and family but she had thought he wasn’t ready.
“what are you saying?” 
“i guess i’m saying– well asking, will you marry me?” she felt the oxygen leave her lungs for a moment, before a smile broke out on her face.
“hell yeah,” she watched him smile widely. “god, i love you.”
“i love you so much, baby, so goddamn much.” quinn leaned in to kiss her, only to be stopped by her placing her finger on his lips.
“you can kiss me after i brush my teeth.” quinn pouted, earning a small giggle before she paled. “fuck.” she rolled out of his grasp, getting up and taking off toward the bathroom once more. it may not have been the most conventional way of proposing but neither party would have it any other way.
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romeolucci · 1 month
Text
What the ghouls from the same house think about each other
It’s one of the questions that appeared in the latest B’s-log magazine issue. I decided to share this one because it’s fun.
DISCLAIMER: I’m not a translator, so please take this with a huge grain of salt because I don’t speak let alone read Japanese very well. I mostly used machine translation and some of the little knowledge I have to get through this. I added the original Japanese script if you wanna read that on your own.
Jin, Tohma, Ren and Subaru didn’t receive the question unfortunately
Frostheim
Lucas: “Ever since I transferred to this school, Kaito has been my first friend and has always been very kind to me. I'm also grateful to Ishibashi-san for all his help. As for Kamurai-san, I hope he'll just fulfill his duties...”
「この学園へ転校してきた日から、魁斗は俺の初め ての友人として、ずっと仲良くしてくれている。そ れに磴さんにも、とてもお世話になっているよ。あ とは、冠氷さんが責務さえ果たしてくれれば良いん だけど・・・・・・」
Kaito: “Hmm... To be honest, the captain and vice-captain seem like people way above the clouds... Rumor has it that the two of them are in collusion with the school and are doing terrible things. What? Luca? ...I've never heard of such a faceless bastard.”
「ん~………………寮長と副寮長は、正直雲の上の人って感 じだしな〜………………噂では、ふたりとも学園と癒着して、 えげつないことやってるって聞いたことあるけど。え? ルカ? ………………あんな顔面無双野郎なんか知らね」
*I’m really not sure what あんな顔面無双野郎 means.
Vagastorm
Alan: “We're just half-baked people who happened to have powers. But they're willing to die and crawl back up... they have the potential.”
「俺たちは、たまたま力を持っただけの半端もんだ。 だが、死ぬ気で這い上がる・・・・・・あいつらには、その 素質がある」
Leo: “No matter how you look at it, our captain is a complete loser. As for Sho-chan... I guess he's my slave♡”
「誰がどう見ても、うちの寮長サ��はポンコツでし ○よ。え~、翔ちゃんはね・・・・・・オレの奴隷、かな♡」
Sho: “Ahh... Leo and I are just old friends. We've been hanging out since middle school. Mido-senpai... I don't really know what he's thinking. He's a man of few words, right?”
「あー…………………玲音とはただの腐れ縁な。中坊の頃か ら、なんとなくつるんでるっつうか。御��センパイ は・・・・・・何考えてっかよくわかんねぇわ。あいつ、言 葉が足りねぇタイプじゃん?」
Jabberwock
Haru: “Both Ren and Towa have good bodies, so if they could put that into use and work, they'd be a lot more reliable than they are now...huh? What's that sound...Hey Towa! Wait a sec!!”
「蓮も叶空も、せっかくええガタイ持っとるけぇ、 そいつ活かして働いてくれりゃ、今よりずっと頼も しいんじゃがのう・・・・・・ん?この音は・・・・・・おい叶空! ちょ~~~待て~~~~~~~!!」
Towa: ~~~~♪~~~~!!
Sinostra
Taiga: “That Lulu gets so angry every day, I don't know how he never gets tired of it... Ah? Shinjo? Who’s that?”
「ルルのやつ、毎日あんなキレまくって、よく飽き ねぇよな~・・・・・・・あ〜? シンジョ? 誰だそれ」
Romeo: “I’m disgusted by my boss. No matter how many times I say the same thing, it's WEFCP. What? It's "waste of effort", "fist-clenching" and "pressing". As for Shinjo, I'm going to give him a thorough training from now on, and we'll see how he turns out.”
「うちのボスには呆れる。なんべん同じこと言った って、N・U・Oだからさぁ。は?「暖簾に」「腕」「押し」 だよ。まぁ針条に関しては、これからみっちり教育して、 どう化けるかってとこだねぇ」
*I tried my best to translate Romeo’s abbreviation but it’s still bad I’m sorry…
Ritsu: "I have concluded that it is futile to try to change the tyrannical behavior of our Sinostra’s captain, Taiga Hoshibami, and vice-captain, Romeo Scorpius Lucci. From now on, I will defend them and definitely obtain the 'Laurel Crown'."
「我がシノストラ寮長の星喰大我、および副寮長 のロミオ・スコーピウス・ルッチについて、その横暴 な素行を改めることは不毛という結論です。今後は、 私が彼らを弁護することで、必ず『栄冠賞』を手に入 れてみせます」
Hotarubi
Haku: “Another difficult question. Hmm... Subaru-san is simply great. However, his tendency to take on too much is his only flaw. Zenji-san... Well, you see, being with him makes me feel energized. I'm grateful for that.”
「また難しい質問ですこと。うーん・・・・・・昴流さんは とにかく出来が良い。ただ、何かと抱え込みすぎる のが玉に瑕だな。善治さんは・・・・・・まあ、あれだ、一 緒にいると元気になる。ありがたいことですよ」
Zenji: “If I had to describe Subaru-kun in one word, it would be...heart of glass...but in contrast, I can't help but worry about Haku-kun's lack of enthusiasm. As my manager, I would say he should be a bit more considerate.”
「昴流クンを一��で表すならば・・・・・・ハート・オブ・グ ラス・・・・・・それに引き替え、伯玖クンのスコドンぶり には気を揉まずにはいられないよ。ボクのマネージ ャーならば、もう少し気が利くべきだと言っている のだがねえ」
*Zenji says “hāto obu gurasu”, I’m not sure, but I think he means to say heart of gold? lmao
Obscuary
Edward: These two are young and strong, I'm so envious of them. When I was their age... Oops, it was so long ago that I’ve completely forgotten."
「ふたりとも、若くて体力もあって羨ましい限りだよ。 俺があの子たちと同じ年頃の時は・・・・・・おっと。もう 随分昔のことだから、すっかり忘れてしまったな」
Rui: “Ed-san has no ability to live on his own, so he's really a pain to look after. At this point, I’m in charge of nursing care... and then what about Lyca-kun... Huh? I'm taking care of the kids... What do those two think of me!?”
「エドさんは生活力なさすぎて、ほんと世話が焼け るんよね。もはや介護っしょあれ・・・・・・そんでライカ くんは~・・・・・・・あれ? こっちは子供の世話だ・・・・・・あ のふたり、俺ちゃんをなんだと思ってんの!?」
Lyca: “They're that moth-eaten Casanova and that blond gigolo. I'm human, so why am I not in the same place as Suba-kun and the others!!”
「色魔ジジイと金髪ジゴロだろ。おれは人間なのに、 なんでスバくんたちと同じとこじゃねーんだよ!!」
Mortkranken
Yuri: “You're talking about Jiro-kun, who is both Yuri Isami's assistant and patient? He's still in training. He still lacks knowledge, skills, experience, and culture. It'll probably take another 100 years for him to become a doctor at my level.”
「この衣佐美佑理の助手であり、患者でもある次郎 くんのことです? 彼は研修中の身ですからね。ま だまだ、知識も技術も経験も教養も足りていません。 僕レベルの医師になるまで、あと100年は必要でしょう」
Jiro: “Oh, the only ghoul in my house is Yuri. He's my doctor. If it weren't for Yuri, I'd probably be dead by now. Well, I'm grateful.”
「はあ、同じ寮のグールは、佑理しかいませんけど。 俺の主治医ですね。佑理がいなければ、俺、今頃死 んでるらしいんで。まあ、感謝してます」
If a professional sees this, feel free to translate it yourself
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captainfern · 1 year
Note
me, patiently waiting for any marigold updates because i can’t get enough of dbf!price: :3c
(in all seriousness tho i love your work so much you have converted me into a price slut and i am eternally grateful)
(live laugh love barry sloane)
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Marigold pt. 4
dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“Marigold” by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - price is deployed for over four months. photos and phone calls aren’t enough. when he gets home, you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.5k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], exchange of explicit photographs, phone sex, mutual masturbation through the phoneeeee, unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], fingering, praise, light degradation, a sprinkle of dacryphilia, breeding kink [yk fern be serious when it's in bold], creampies, strong language, fluffy at the end, porn with a bit of plot i guess, um... i think that's it omfg i need to take a breath after typing this
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
the longer dbf!price fic i told you all i'd write
*rings little bell* dinner is served whores
Deployment was never easy for Price. Even when he didn't have anyone waiting at home for him, leaving the safety of what was familiar to him was stressful enough. He never showed it, though. He had a taskforce to captain. He couldn't afford to get homesick during missions of life and death.
But now...
Now, things were different.
He had you waiting for him. Sure, you weren't waiting for him in the sanctuary of his home— like he wanted you too— but you were still waiting for him.
So this deployment was especially hard for Price. The night before he left, he popped around to your house to say goodbye to your dad. They talked for a while as you listened in from the top of the stairs. When it was time for Price to leave, he stood at the bottom with his arm resting along the bannister, looking up at you.
"Say bye to Price, honey." Your dad said.
"Bye, Price. Stay safe." You said politely, your dad smiling gently at you.
Price's jaw ticked before he nodded in return. "Thanks."
He wanted nothing more for you to bound down the stairs and launch yourself into his arms. He wanted to hold you tight to him as you whispered in his ear. He wanted to litter your face in kisses and run his hands along your back and arse. He wanted to mutter into your ear, telling you he'll be back to you in no time. Back to you.
Instead, he turned on his heel, your dad offering him a hearty slap on the back as he walked Price onto the front porch. You watched them go, your heart in your throat. Your eyes stung with tears, chest beginning to heave. So, before the emotions could bubble to the surface, you retreated into your bedroom in search of sleep.
You didn't see Price look over his shoulder in search of you.
•º•
Price texted you when he could. Which, to your dismay, was not a lot.
A couple times every week, maybe, if service was good. Most of the time, it was a short burst of conversation. A couple of exchanged words before he was back into the thick of his mission. Even more common, he'd text you a huge paragraph before he went dark for several days, leaving you to reread the heart-warming message over and over again with tears in your vision.
A month passed like this.
During this time, the mission was critical for Price, so you understood why his attention was elsewhere. But, after about six days of anxiously waiting for a text, you got one.
————Hey, sweetheart. How've you been? alright. work sucks as usual. how are you?———— ————Not bad. I miss you. i miss you too. oh my god don't make me cry————
You managed to talk a bit more, before he was gone. With a simple goodbye, and a couple of x's, no more messages came through. You found yourself rereading the conversation over and over again, your stomach knotted with anxiety.
You lay back in bed, snuggling beneath your blankets. It was late, and you had work in the morning, but you doubt you'd be getting much sleep. Your stomach was a swirl of nerves, and sadness continued to simmer in the back of your mind.
You grabbed hold of the neckline of the tee you were wearing, bringing it up to your face and inhaling deeply. It smelt like Price. Your favourite cologne of his, too— all rich and masculine, with a hint of cigar smoke. You whined into the shirt.
You missed him so much.
•º•
Another entire month passed.
Price was on edge, too.
The 141 boys had noticed it. Price was a bit shorter and snappier with them. He smoked an extra cigar each day, too, and would smoke it right to it's last dying embers.
He was still doing his job really well— as soon as they were out on the field, Price let nothing distract him. But, in the solace of a safe house, or other place away from the fighting and shooting, Price's emotions were altered. He found himself checking his phone, despite having absolutely no reception where they were. He spent hours before missions checking, and re-checking the equipment, muttering meticulously to himself.
Gaz tried to ask what had Price so worked up. Price dismissed him, stating it was nothing. Gaz wasn't convinced, but didn't want to get in Price's way. Soap poked fun at his captain, but that didn't last long after a scolding from both Price and Ghost. Ghost would give Price a look when the captain would check his phone for the umpteenth time that morning.
"Something on your mind, captain?" Ghost asked.
Price shook his head. "Nothing, mate."
He was a goddamn liar.
He pulled out his phone again, opening your messages. It had been two weeks since your last conversation. You had been the one to sign off. The time differences were not helpful.
————ok, talk to you later :) stay safe! miss you x
He felt his throat go tight.
Fuck.
He missed you so much.
•º•
Two more months ticked past.
Four months since he'd left.
It was absolute torture for both you and Price.
Luckily, Price and the 141 found themselves hunkering down in an area with reception. Price was ecstatic when he saw those bars appear in the top left corner of his phone screen. Throughout the entire day, he felt as though his phone was burning a hole through his pocket. He was itching to text you. To talk to you.
It was like a shadow, looming over him— the temptation of stepping aside and pulling out his phone so that he could text you.
He wanted to tell you that he was alright, and that he'd be home soon. He and the boys were safe. More importantly, he wanted to know if you were safe— how were you? How was everything at home? At work? What had you been up too? Where have you been recently?
By the time the 141 reached the next safe house for rest, it was late at night. Pitch-black, the taskforce dragged themselves into the house and separated almost immediately, chasing sleep while fending off exhaustion long enough to find a bed or couch. Price found himself across the house, tucked away in one of the rooms as he pulled his phone from his pocket while he kicked off his shoes and prepared to get into bed.
Immediately, his phone screen lit up with numerous text messages from you. He smiled wide, his heart soaring. With a trembling hand, he opened the messages, his heart beating excitedly against his ribcage. The thought of you made his heart race.
————captainnnnn i miss you so much ––––four months is too long i'm going insane ––––i miss you more than anything
Price chewed on his bottom lip, clearing his throat as sadness swelled there. He turned off his phone and blinked into the darkness for a moment, before switching it back on. There was a break in the messages by about an hour, Price noticed.
————fuck price i need you ————open this alone [image] x3
His smile dropped at the most recent text messages, sent just seconds ago. He blinked at the three photos, his mouth dropping open in shock. The shock was quickly replaced by need as his cock hardened in his trousers and he let out a low groan.
You fucking tease.
The first photo was a selfie of you from the waist up— you were wearing his t-shirt, which pooled around you. You were propped up in bed, face shiny with moisturiser, skin dewey with the aftereffects of being fresh out the shower. It was tame, but your nipples showing clearly through the cotton of the shirt made Price's eyebrows quirk in intrigue. A smirk settled on his face, and he spent a good five minutes just looking at your pretty features.
When he swiped to the next photo, he muttered a "fucking hell" out loud. A mirror selfie, with that floor-length mirror you had in your room. You were twisted half away from the camera, with your arse to the mirror and your upper torso towards the side. You wore a tiny fucking thong, the curve of your arse on full display, making Price release a shaky breath. You still wore his shirt, too, but hoisted it up with your free hand, exposing your abdomen and a small sliver of skin from your tits.
Price hands shook as he reluctantly swiped to the next one, his cock painfully hard in his cargos. He quickly unbuckled his belt with his freehand as the last photograph illuminated the screen.
"Christ." Price hissed, dipping his hand into his boxers and pulling his cock out.
You, wearing absolutely fucking nothing, standing in front of your mirror in such a way that Price groaned into the air, tossing his head back. You looked so good, so fucking good. Your bare legs, your hips and thighs, your tummy and waist, your tits. Fuck, you looked so pretty.
He gripped his cock firmly, hissing out a breath, eyes taking in every inch of your body. He quickly spat into his palm, before stroking himself, paying careful attention to the underside of his tip, just like you would.
He groaned lowly, careful not to disturb the rest of the task force across the house. Teeth biting into his bottom lip, he fucked his fist in the darkness, his phone screen illuminating his face in a soft white glow. Your photo on screen, he could imagine the hot suction of your mouth on his cock— the purposeful movements of your tongue along the one prominent vein running up the lefthand side; the cheeky skim of your teeth when you pressed your nose into his hair, tip of his cock at the back of your throat.
"Fuck, pretty girl—" He whispered, dark hooded eyes on his phone, his thumb flicking between each photo.
He could imagine more, too. The tight, wet grip of your cunt around his cock, taking more and more. He choked on a low moan at the thought. Your pretty cunt— always dripping for him, soaking your best underwear as you rode his thigh; the tight heat as you rode his cock, tip slamming into your cervix with soft wet sounds.
Price spat onto the head of his cock again, trying to imagine it was you doing it. The speed of his hand sent wet clicks through the room, paired with deep, hushed grunts and groans. Price had dropped his phone onto the bed next to him, propping it up on the pillow so he could still see your photos. But pleasure was quickly taking over his body, his free hand at his balls as he fucked his fist to the thought of you, you, you.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He whispered, movements desperate.
Swiftly, he grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted it up, biting it between his teeth to expose his abdomen. Groaning around the fabric, he came up his stomach, white splattering along the soft ridges of muscle. He whispered your name as he stroked himself through it; stroked himself until his hips twitched in overstimulation, and his cock softened in his hand, slick with his release.
He breathed hard, hand sticky.
Thinking in an exhausted post-nut haze, he grabbed his phone and snapped a couple pics of himself. Of his cum splattered up across his abdomen, through his happy trail; and of his cock in his hand, painted white.
He wanted to roll his eyes. He felt like a horny fucking teenager.
Price sent you the pair of photos before he made quick work of hurrying to the bathroom and cleaning himself up without waking anyone. When he returned to his room, his phone was illuminating again with more messages.
————holy fuck price oh my god ————fuck you're so hot i can't
Price couldn't help but smile as he settled into bed.
You started it, sweetheart.———— ————yeah. did you like them? I think the photos I just sent make it obvious.———— ————you wanked to my photos captain?
Price laughed. Of course he did. He had a whole collection on his phone, photos and videos, of you in varying states that he fucked his fist too each night he missed you.
Of course I did, pretty girl. Just look at you.———— ————price... You're so fucking beautiful.———— ————price don't make me horny. i have work 😭
Price smiled softly at your messages, his breathing calming. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride in the way you talked to him; how you texted him and called him; how you still called him Price after all this time. Your Captain Price.
Call me later if you can, sweetheart.———— ————i will. miss you so much I miss you too. Have a great day at work.———— ————i'll try. stay safe, old man x
•º•
A week went by. Just one more week until Price was home free. Four and a half months away was brutal.
His emotions were slowly becoming harder and harder to ignore. He found himself thinking of you constantly. He missed you so much it was making him worry— worry about you, about his boys, about the end of the mission. Fuck, his mind was going a hundred miles an hour, but his main thoughts were all about you.
The week didn't have as much contact with you as he would've liked. He found himself fucking his fist to the file of saved videos he had of you— wet cunt taking his fingers, his cock, your mouth whimpering his name, his rank.
Goddamn it, he felt like a teenager. Constantly horny for the pretty girl who sent him nudes. Wanking to said nudes almost every night. What had gotten into him?
He kept thinking about how there was one week until he was home. That kept him going. One week until he could hold you in his arms, hug you, kiss you, absorb your presence. One week until he could shove his cock, his tongue, his fingers into your tight cunt.
He screwed his eyes shut. What the fuck, Price.
It's like you knew he was thinking about you.
Price jolted when his phone vibrated on the table beside his bed. He leaned over and grabbed it, leaning against the headboard and smiling as he saw your name flash on screen. He answered, trying to keep his excitement to hear your voice at bay.
"Hey, pretty girl." He drawled, and he heard you whine softly through the phone, making his smile stretch tenfold.
"Hi, Price," you whispered, and the sound of your voice alone had Price's stomach erupting in butterflies. You sounded tired, as though you'd just woken up.
"Did you wake up to call me?" Price asked.
"Mm... maybe," you replied. "But it's okay. I wanted to call you."
Price chuckled. "Okay, sweetheart. How've you been?"
"Good... mostly..." You said, words stretching out.
"Mostly?"
"Mhm. I miss you."
"I miss you too." Price whispered his reply, throat growing tight. He cleared his throat to try and dislodge the tight, burning sensation.
"Mm... tell me about your day." You said.
Price did. He talked about the mission, and the things that had been happening these past few months. He explained how this week was closing everything up before he'd be home.
Then, silence followed. Price listened to your breathing, wondering what was going on inside that pretty head of yours. He was about to ask, too, when he heard you release a high-pitched whine. This was followed by the rustling of sheets, and a shaky inhale of breath from you.
"You alright?" Price asked, and your response was a low moan.
Price's cheeks flared red as he listened to the soft sounds filtering through the phone. Then, he pressed his tongue to his bottom lip, smiling as he listened to you.
"You touching yourself, pretty girl?"
"Fuck—" You whispered. "Y-yeah. Miss you so m-much and you sound so g-good."
Price chuckled lowly, at the right baritone that made you whimper. Price continued to smile to himself as he dipped his free hand into his boxers and pulled his hardening cock out, giving it a couple of strokes before he began speaking to you.
"Tell me what you're doing," he whispered as his cock hardened more, your noises music to his ears. "Be a good girl and tell me how you're touching yourself."
You moaned. "Ah... 'm using my fingers."
"Yeah?"
"Y-yeah... two."
Price spat into his hand and gripped his cock, spreading it along his length.
"Imagining they're yours," you breathed. "But... fuck— they're not big enough, Price— fuck— s'not you."
You were almost sobbing now, and Price could hear how wet you were. Loud, slick sounds. Hell, it felt like Price was there.
He listened to the way you fucked your fingers into your cunt, the way you sobbed out for him, breathing erratically.
"You sound so fucking wet, sweetheart," Price muttered, fucking his fist. "Such a perfect cunt. Come on, add another finger."
Price heard you sob out a moan as you added another finger into your aching core. Price imagined your body trembling against your bed, hips shunting forward to try and notch your fingers deeper. But they wouldn't go deeper. They weren't Price's.
"Captain—" You moaned sweetly, and that made Price's cock jerk violently in his hand. He cursed as you fought to spit out a sentence through a moan. "Feels so good."
"Yeah? I bet it does, sweetheart. Good girl, keep fucking that pretty wet cunt with your fingers. That’s a good girl." Price whispered deeply, listening to your sounds.
He was breathing hard, too. Grunting and groaning into the phone, making your cunt clench around your fingers. You released whimpers and whines in response as you tried desperately to chase your release using your fingers, imagining they were your captains.
Ultimately though, it was his words that were sending you closer to release.
"That's it, that's it, such a good girl," Price said. "Fuck that pretty cunt. When— ah, fuck— when I get home, I'm gonna stuff you full, sweetheart. Stuff that pretty cunt with my cock. You want that? You want me to fill you up? O'course you fucking do, my perfect girl."
You bit your lip, moaning. "Price, m'gonna—"
"Cum for me. Cum 'round your fingers like a good girl."
Price listened to your orgasm with his mouth agape, fastening the pace of his hand. He whined your name under his breath, breathing hard, no doubt loud where your phone was pressed to your ear.
"Coming, sweetheart," Price panted, lower stomach tightening. "M'coming—"
He came in hot spurts all over his cock, thighs, hand and upper arm. Residual splatters went up his bare abdomen, too.
He breathed hard into the phone. "I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you when I get home."
He heard you laugh. "What a way to ruin the mood, captain."
•º•
When Price got home, he didn't even bother unpacking. He dumped all of his shit in the hallway, kicking off his boots while pulling up your contact on his phone. He sent you a text, telling you to come over, and your reply was instantaneous.
Come over.———— ————you're home??? Sure am. Don't keep me waiting.———— ————i'm on my way
Excitement built inside him as he smiled down at your message. Never had he ever felt this way about a person before.
He moved around the darkness of his home, turning on the lights and drawing the curtains. He sighed to himself, finally making the effort of taking his bags upstairs and putting them in one of the spare rooms. He'd sort them out tomorrow.
With excitement to see you still heavy in his body, he had a quick shower and scrubbed away the remnants of his deployment. Afterwards, he got dressed, pulling grey sweatpants [lol hehe] over his boxers just as he heard the engine of a car in his driveway. His heart fluttered and, not bothering to put on a shirt, he hurried downstairs.
When he threw open the door, you had a fist raised to knock. You squeaked in surprise when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you inside, slamming the door shut and locking it, before pinning you against it. He slotted his mouth to yours, and you gasped into the kiss, before wrapping your arms around his bare shoulders.
Price pulled out of the kiss after a long moment, breathing deeply as he rested his forehead against yours.
"Hello to you too," you joked, smiling. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too," Price replied. "So much."
You leaned in and kissed him this time, taking the lead. He groaned happily, putting both hands on your waist and pulling your lower half into his. You hummed into the kiss, tongues smoothing together, as he nudged your legs apart with his knee and settled it at your already aching core.
"Remember what I said to you on the phone last week?" Price asked, as you peppered his face in kisses. He fought off a smile.
"That you'd fuck the shit out of me when you get home?"
"Mhm."
"Yeah, I remember," you smiled, nipping his earlobe. "You gonna do it, or no?"
"Cheeky..." He muttered, kissing you one last time before spinning you away from the door. He pushed you away from him with a smack to the arse.
He nodded to the stairs. "You know where I want you."
His words went straight to your core.
With a building ache between your legs, you shakily kicked off your shoes. Then, you bounded up the stairs, wiggling your arse as you went. You giggled when Price groaned, following just a few steps behind.
You practically skipped into his bedroom. You turned around just as he walked in, pulling you closer to him straight away. Hands on your hips, he kissed you hard, his tongue pushing against yours, exploring your mouth. The kiss was full of longing and desperation— all of Price's pent up emotion from four months apart.
Price guided you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. He lay you down on your back, shifting you so you had your head on his pillows. He followed, crawling over top of you, continuing the kiss. You tugged at his hair with one hand, the other moving to the waistband of his sweatpants. You skimmed a fingernail over the elastic.
Price broke the kiss. He licked his lips, savouring the taste of you.
"Impatient, are we?" He queried as your fingers pulled the waistband of his sweatpants down, exposing his boxers and the imprint of his hard cock.
You cupped his bulge and he grunted.
"It's been four months, Price. Of course I'm fucking impatient." You quipped, squeezing lightly.
He cursed, eyes shutting, hips canting into your touch. After a second, he opened his eyes and battered your hand away from him. He slunk downwards until he rested between your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, cocking your head to the side as he took off your trousers and your underwear.
The scene was oddly tender. He placed kisses along the bare skin of your legs as he pulled your trousers and underwear away. He tossed them across the room, resuming the trail of kisses along your thighs and knees. He kissed right past your most sensitive part, and you blew out a breath, as his lips pecked over your hips, navel and tummy while he pushed your shirt up.
You helped him pull your shirt over your head.
"No bra?" Price remarked, hands automatically cupping your tits. "Naughty girl."
He tweaked your nipples, making you whine.
"Price, please..." You begged, voice trailing off as he pinched at your sensitive nipples.
"Hmm? What do you want?"
You felt your face heating up. "Want your mouth on me."
"Yeah? My pretty girl wants my mouth on her?" Price drawled slowly, edging back down your body until he was settled comfortably between your legs. He gripped the plush flesh of your thighs in two large hands, squeezing and groping.
You whined, feeling his breath fan across your dripping core. "Please, sir."
He hummed, content. "You always ask so nicely. Such a good girl for me, sweetheart."
You and Price both moaned when he sealed his mouth over your clit first. He circled the bud with his tongue, your hips bucking, hands fisting the sheets at your sides. The vibrations of his moans made your mouth drop open.
His facial hair tickled your inner thighs as he sucked on your clit. He skimmed his teeth along the top of the sensitive bud, and you cried out, shooting one hand down to grab his hair. He grunted when you tugged. He then dragged his tongue down your folds slowly— so slowly you thought you might have a fucking heart attack at the sensations— before circling your soaking hole.
"Such a needy fucking cunt," Price mused directly into your core. "Always so wet for me."
Price licked into you, making you bite back a scream. Four months without his mouth on you had driven you to the brink of insanity. You gripped his hair, urging him closer as the solid muscle of his tongue moved in and out of your core. The sounds were slurping wet, echoing loudly in your ears. They played amongst a chorus of Price's grunts and groans, and your whines and whimpers, producing an orchestra of sounds.
His beard scratched the sensitive skin. Not that you minded. It only added to the tight coil in your lower tummy that was twisting tighter and tighter, your body shining with sweat.
"Price, I'm so close." You sobbed as he continued to lick into you, his eyes watching your facial expressions change.
Price dragged his tongue in a zig-zag motion up your slit, sucking your clit into his mouth as he watched you squirm. "Ask nicely, sweetheart."
You keened, your climax building so aggressively that your legs trembled in his hold and you felt a thin layer of sweat building on your lower back, still pressed against the soft blankets.
"Please, sir, can I..."
His teeth skated across your clit again, and you moaned loudly.
"Fuck—! Please, sir, p-please, can I cum? Please, please—"
He seemed satisfied with that. He dipped his tongue back into your cunt and stuffed it inside, humming confirmation that you could let go. The hum seemed to punch you straight in the fucking uterus, and you came with a mewling moan. Price lapped it up, pressing your thighs tighter around his head.
He sucked you through your high. While you trembled, he massaged your thighs, tongue moving in and out of you lazily. Just when you were on the verge of overstimulation, Price pulled back. His facial hair glistened with your arousal, sparkling in the semi-darkness.
He tutted at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
You hadn't realised tears were streaming down your face.
"Mmmfeltsogood—" You whimpered out in one jumbled word, a couple of tears running over your lips. "Missedyousomuch—"
"My poor girl," Price crawled over you. "My poor, needy girl."
He licked the tears off your lips, before kissing a few off your cheeks. He kissed you deeply once you caught your breath, and you tasted your arousal and the salt from your tears. The arousal on his face smeared onto yours, leaving sticky residue across your chin and cheeks.
"You alright now?" He asked gently, voice soft.
You nodded.
"Good. I'm going to fuck you now, okay?"
Fuck, well okay then.
You nodded again. He chuckled behind a close-lipped smile while he shoved his trousers and boxers down his legs, kicking them onto the floor. You whimpered at the sight of his cock— hard, curving towards his abdomen with a reddened tip leaking ivory beads of pre-cum. A prominent vein ran down the left side, from tip to base, dipping into his pubic hair. His dark happy trail crawled up towards his navel, skimming the base of his abs. You were fucking salivating.
He situated himself between your legs, which you wrapped around his hips as he sat back on his heels. He gripped his cock, hissing as he stared at you. So pretty. All for him.
"Condom?" You joked with a coy smile, watching the copious stream of pre dribbling down his length.
He huffed an amused laugh, leaning over you. Drips of pre landed beside your navel. "As if you don't enjoy me filling this tight cunt."
He wasn't wrong.
He kissed you as he notched his cock at your fluttering entrance, smearing your slick around while his tongue probed against yours.
"I missed you so much," he whispered against your mouth as his head pushed into you. "I missed you so fucking much, sweetheart."
The stretch was still difficult to get used too.
You exhaled a breath, his cock sliding in. "I missed you, too."
Eventually, his cock hit the base of your cervix and you whimpered. He shushed you with another kiss before he moved his face away, eyes darting across your features. He ground his hips into your pelvis, and you whimpered again.
"My girl's so sensitive." He uttered, pulling his cock all the way out. Then he thrust back in, and his brutal pace began— your moans of pleasure his starting gun.
His cock rammed against the plug of your womb repeatedly as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. He had one hand on your hip, the other beside your head as he fucked you into his bed. Your hands ran up and down his back, feeling the smooth planes of muscle. Your hands moved to his chest, squeezing his pecs. You smiled, fingers scraping through the coarse hair. Your hands continued lower, running over his sternum and abs, rubbing over the top of his happy trail.
He grunted, using one hand to snatch both of your wrists. Before you knew it, your hands were pinned above you. Price used one hand to keep your arms in place before his thrusts grew heavier— fucking his fat cock into your soaking cunt. He was fucking the shit out of you, just like he promised.
"That's my girl, just take it," Price grunted. "Take my cock. That's a good girl, sweetheart. That's a good girl. Let this needy cunt take my cock."
You whimpered, chest heaving, sensitive nipples brushing against his chest. The bed creaked beneath you, headboard tapping the wall. His cock continued to bruise your cervix in a way that had your entire body shivering in pleasure.
"Harder." You moaned.
"Harder?" Price chuckled, but obliged— the weight of his thrusts increasing, slamming into the spot within you that had your back arching. "You want it like this? Want it rough? Fucking hell, sweetheart, such a naughty girl."
You bit your lip, hiding your whimpers.
"Yeah, such a naughty girl," Price muttered, eyes zeroed in on where his cock entered you. "Naughty, naughty girl. Letting your dad's best friend fuck you like this. Letting your dad's mate fuck this tight cunt."
That made you moan really loud. His eyes found your face, a vulpine smile developing over his mouth.
"Yeah, you like that? 'Course you do. Needy fucking slut, aren't you, sweetheart? Just love this cock, don't you?"
His words made your core clench. You mewled, a pathetic little sound. You were one more bit of dirty talk away from coming all over his cock—
"Can feel this cunt squeezing me, pretty girl," Price said. "You wanna cum? Go on, then. Cum 'round my cock. Show me how much of a needy slut you are for this cock, darling."
Fucking hell.
You came.
A lot.
You squirted all over his fucking abdomen, and you felt it. Felt the wet gush, felt the warmth. But, above all, you felt the pleasure— tummy tightening, cunt fluttering, legs trembling. Usually, you'd moan his last name. You always had done— Price is what you'd called him since you could remember. Hell, it's what your dad would call him, too.
But this time was different.
"John—!" You cried, and Price smiled as he continued to fuck you.
"Good girl, good fucking girl, there you go," Price moaned through his smile. "Such a perfect girl."
His brutal pace continued, and you were quick to realise that, holy fuck, your third orgasm was looming, pooling in the base of your tummy.
"John..." You whispered.
"John? Thought that made me sound old?" Price mused, pounding into you. "You like that I'm older, don't you, sweetheart? Guys your age can't fuck you like I can."
You mewled again, barely able to keep your eyes open. You were doing your best to watch him. Watch the way he hovered over you, pinning your arms above your head. The way his hips surged with each thrust, slamming himself inside you. You felt the subtle vibrations of his chest against yours as he grunted and groaned.
Your third orgasm reared its head within you, and you felt breathless as the weight of the pleasure pushed moan after moan from your lungs. Price watched you, and the way your mouth dropped open in a continuous harmony of sounds.
His thrusts were becoming sloppier. He was panting, too, as he watched your body grow tight, your cunt constricting his cock in such a way that he grit his teeth to suppress a whimper.
"Come on, beg for me," he whispered, rutting into you desperately. "I know you're close, sweetheart, I know, I know. Just beg for it."
You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as the pleasure mounted, burning hot inside your tummy. You felt dizzy, too.
"Please, sir, please let me cum, please, I'm s-so close... n' feels so g-good."
He groaned, pleased. "That's my girl. Cum for me."
You did.
You came around him for the third time. You arched as best as you could in order to feel his chest against yours— feel his body, his warmth, his presence. Tears slipped from your eyes as you moaned, and you finally allowed your eyes to flutter closed as you did so.
Your brain was fuzzy and warm and you felt so good. He made you feel so good. The solid weight as he lay over you, the heat of his bare skin, the slight scratch of his light, coarse hair. He stuffed you full, his cock reaching a place far within you that ached each time he spoke. Maybe it was your heart he was reaching, maybe not with his cock— although it surely felt close— but with his hands. His voice, too, and his words, his personality, his mind. Captain John Price had a firm grasp on your heart, and that sent more hot tears spilling down your cheeks.
"I love you." You sobbed, and he released your hands at just the right moment. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.
He groaned, deep and melodic, his arms either side of your face. He leaned down and captured your mouth in a soft kiss. It was slow and passionate, full to the brim with emotion.
Price pulled away slightly, speaking against your lips. "Say it again."
"I love you."
"Again."
"I love you, John."
"Fucking hell," he kissed you again, rutting into your tight heat without any discerning rhythm. He was chasing his high. "I love you too."
He kissed the tears off his cheeks, before his head dropped into the crook of your neck. He nipped at the flesh, sucking a bruise.
"I love you, I love you," he repeated. "And m'gonna fill this pretty cunt with my kids. Breed you nice and full, sweetheart— ah, fuck— mhm, get you nice and full... all fat with my kids. Ah, ah— I love you."
He came inside you with a quiet moan, your name following like a mantra. You felt him, hot and thick, flood past your cervix. You whined, rubbing his shoulders.
Price dragged his cock out of you, bringing a wave of fluids with it. Embarrassment zapped up your spine as your arousal and his cum seeped out of your hole. Price ignored your whimpers, gently gathering his cum that had leaked out. He pushed two digits into your cunt, stuffing his cum back inside you.
"Don't waste it..." He whispered, more to himself than to you.
You whimpered under your breath at the feeling of his fingers inside you. He wiggled them around a bit, ensuring his seed stayed right up inside you.
"My perfect girl. I love you." He whispered again.
This time, it wasn't to himself. It was directly to you.
•º•
An hour or so passed and, after a couple more rounds, Price cleaned you up. Ever the gentlemen, he turned on the shower and helped you into it. Behind you, he soaped your body, running his hands along every dip and curve. He exited the shower first, grabbing a warm towel and wrapping you in it.
Little words were exchanged between the two of you as he dried you, then dried himself. You basked in each others presence. He then dressed you in his boxers and his shirt, kissing up your legs as he pulled the boxers up, and littering your face in pecks as he pulled the shirt over your head. He put on his boxers too, before guiding you back into his bedroom and yanking back the covers.
Price hopped in first. He held the blankets open for you to clamber in, nestling yourself against his chest. He settled the blankets back over you, hugging you tight to his body. He breathed deeply, nose to your hair.
You listened to his breathing for a moment.
"Price?"
"Mm?"
"I meant it, you know."
"Meant what, sweetheart?"
"That I love you."
He hugged you tighter. "I love you too."
You sighed into his chest. "This... I'm going to be in a lot of trouble with my dad."
"Yeah. Same."
You laughed at his nonchalance, leaning back to look at him.
"I'm serious," you muttered, fending off a smile, tapping his chest with your fingers. "I'm in love with his best friend."
He grumbled something.
You chuckled. "What?"
"If he has a problem, he can take it up with me."
"That is the problem, Price. He will take it up with you."
"True," Price said, and you laughed. He hummed, thinking. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, sweetheart, okay?"
"Okay..." You breathed, snuggling yourself back against him.
Comfortable silence followed. Then—
"Price?"
"Mm?"
"Do you really want me to have your kids?"
He choked on his saliva after inhaling to quickly. Shocked, probably. He coughed lightly, and you waited for him to soothe himself.
"Yeah, well, uh— okay, look, I mean—"
You pat his chest, echoing his words. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, John."
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
let me know what you thought x
1K notes · View notes
thewertsearch · 24 days
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Mindfang even shares her descendant's eye mutation. If they're not identical clones, then they must be pretty damn close.
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My new favorite troll is this one random motherfucker on a little dinghy. Are they another pirate, or just the unluckiest fisherman on the planet?
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Redglare is an absolute demon here. She looks significantly more intimidating than Mindfang, which is a victory all on its own.
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A legendary pirate of antiquity, deprived of an arm and an eye.
I think it's safe to say we've found the original inspiration for Troll Captain Hook.
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LMAO, I love that Vriska's just chillin'. She probably doesn't even know that Terezi's been hunting her.
I guess this is it, then - the Scourge Sisters are finally face-to-face, and I don't think this one's going to end in a slap. Will they catch on to Gamzee's subterfuge before things get too bloody?
(No.)
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