#and it’s like girl…. fat people are not having the same experiences you are having

[laurel-michaela-connor]

Attractive people really have no idea how much easier their lives are because of how they look. They think people are that nice and helpful to *everyone* but actually they’ve been getting special treatment the entire time.

[sergle]

I love the little AU that skinny people live in where they have the same problems as fat people and can relate to the Experience. artists references are only for fat bodies, artists that do draw thin bodies are getting DMs from people going like "omg I'm so happy I discovered your art, it's so rare to find an artist who draws small bodies!!!!! for the first time I see people who look like me 😭😭" skinny people going "omggg I finally found a clothing brand that sells nice dresses in XS, I wish they weren't so so overpriced though" skinny people getting home from the doctor's office and collapsing on the couch to tell their roommate that their doc spent the whole appointment quizzing them about their diet and they were told they need to gain 40 pounds. but the doctor didn't want to check out the weird scraping sound they make when they breathe in, just that they should probably gain weight first. skinny celebrities and influencers spending thousands of dollars getting plastic surgery to transfer fat to their stomachs and jawlines. all the main characters in tv shows are fat. when you watch cartoons as a kid, there's one skinny character, and they're really dumb and annoying and get laughed at by the other characters. they're a loser and never get a boyfriend/girlfriend. the same clothes that are stylish when worn by fat people just get you made fun of. desirable romantic leads and manic pixie dream girls twirl their hair and say "yeeah I've just been fat my whole life, I just never lose weight no matter what I eat hehe" and this is an extremely endearing and attractive trait.

[dmitriene]

cw: not detailed mentions of human trafficin for experiments.

being kyle's garrick bunny girl, he ain't particularly fond of the hybrids and the whole idea of selling people, despite that you reminiscent of the fluffy bunny, as weak and innocent as the real ones, yet not raised in the wild and barely seen the world outside, but it's not the same when instead of buying you, he finds you while on mission, while raiding with his team at the place that was suspected in human trafficin.

you're a sight for a sore eyes, sitting in some metal cage that's too small for your human size, your snow white, long fluffy ears pressed tightly to your head as you look around in fright at the soldiers walking across the room, harmless doe eyes cling to kyle's figure as he suddenly stops in front of you, crouching down, pursing his lips in a thin line as he notices you jerking backwards when his hands reach out to open the cage.

kyle knows you're too frightened to try and leap off the cage, you just curl in a protective, harmless ball, pressing your knees against your chest and stained cloth that is hard to call a proper shirt, you even hide your face from him, skin smudged up with dust and dirt, but as he reaches into the cage, scooping you towards him as gently as possible, coaxing you out and into his tender, careful embrace, you bundle up against his chest, tucking your face against his gear.

he's warm, smells soothingly of something fresh, making you sniff on him, missing the light, biting chuckle that reverberates through his chest, dissolving at the background of loud noises, too busy to melt into the light citrus smell that fades in the scent of gunpowder and sweat that clings to kyle instead, but it's enough for you to settle comfortably in his arms, curling snugly, letting his palm brush tentatively against your soft furry ears.

kyle takes you to his home, you've been treated at the medical bay at the base so as to check your health condition, before they gave him a leave to either find a place for you to be from now on, or stay with him, and did he thought about finding a special shelter or some place for you to start a proper life there, but with you sitting on a plush couch in his apartment, eyes fluttering with innocent curiosity at his hazel irises, supple body cloaked in his shirt, he wants to keep you here.

you don't know how life works out there, who knows what will happen to a silly bunny girl like you, but kyle, he can provide for you, keep you nourished and have a warm place to sleep in, right against him at the spacious, soft bed, curled beneath his arm that are draped protectively over the curve of your waist, your round, cotton tail wagging in delight, brushing against his smooth skin.

so you stay with kyle, living comfortably in the coziness of his apartment that is now called your home, he teaches you how to cook, operating in the kitchen like a chef, teaching you how to cope and provide for yourself if he is not around, he wants his bunny being capable to care of herself, your long ears perching up at the little praises he croons to you through wide, toothy grin, smushing your face adoringly in his soft palms.

and when he does leaves on a mission, coming back home after couple of weeks, he's greeted by the empty, messed living room and pungent, sweet ambrosial scent that leads him to the open bedroom, where he meets you humping his pillow, twitchy, fat pussy creating a creamy pool of your gushy slick, his shirt draped over your body, thick collar pressed against your nose, as you slur his name in a cloudy haze of your unexpected heat.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[kittx0kitt-diet]

! Calling all ed accounts !

I know this isn't going to be seen as much as I think it should but it is important anyway. There is an account going by fuzzypatrolking that is harassing ed based accounts. They are claiming that this isnt a safe space for us and that we use it as an excuse to indoctrinate children into ed culture.

Many of us say minors DNI and block anyone who is a minor

even my therapist isnt mad at me for looking through ed tumblr (yes fuzzypatrolking I have a therapist go cry about it)

My ed developed from physical and sexual abuse when I was just two years old which destroyed any positive thinking about my body, having other adults who can relate to my experience is helpful and counts as a safe space

If you dont want children looking at ed content thats on you the parent not the rest of the internet... parental controls exist.

Many people who have ed accounts vent and don't give tips, we never body shame each other or others, its an eating disorder that changes OUR preception of ourselves not other people

Fuzzypatrolking also claims the accounts they have interacted with have called them fat... which most likley means they are interacting with minors

We understand we are mentally ill, we never claimed to deny that. Most of us are in therapy those who arent like they claim are most likley minors who dont know how to startr conversations.

Of course I am going to get mad at the whole account reporting. I have had 10 accounts termed in the past 4 years and have then lost a lot of amazing people who knew what I was going through and could support me when I was mentally unwell (not that my feelings are theirs to control)

If they are so mad that we are harming minors why are they not talking about fake ana coaches who actually prey on vulnerable teen girls to get nudes in the form of 'body checks'

Stop harassing mentally ill people who are finding the support they need to eventually recover. You are not helping. You are harming. Instead of talking about the real causes of eating disorders you push that blame onto those who experience the same eating disorders.

[stardustedseas]

small dating stan hc, he will absolutely use you in his schemes and cons lmao especially if youre afab or look more feminine. cant or dont want to get pregnant? thats okay! you will experience what its like via you wearing a fake belly and stan shoving stuff in it to steal or sneak snacks into a theater. if you already have more belly fat and so it wont be as easy to add on a fake pregnancy belly without it looking odd, thats okay! just wear a bigger shirt than normal and stan can wrap thinner things around you like sheets, bags, towels, clothes ect. yall will be sleeping on the nicest sheets gravity falls has that very night LMAO

if you wear a bra, especially if your tits are bigger, stan will shove things in there to steal as well lmfao that spot between your tits? perfect for hiding small items, under them? also perfect.

if you are okay with it and wear a packer, im so sorry but that is now a can of beer. you now have a very expensive can of beer or some other cylinder shaped object for a peen. if you wear a silicone breast vest thing or just ones to put in your bra to look bigger (sorry im unsure if there is a name for them like packers) stan gets you a hollow pair to stuff things in to steal as well. always wanted a big chest? no worries! he can get you a pair AND some free ibuprofen!

he gets you guys a baby carrier and steals stuff in that. if someone asks to see the baby? sorry no absolutely not, you were just able to get them to sleep before coming into the store and if you take the blanket cover off they will wake up and never get back to sleep

also idk if any of you have seen the best show in the entire world ever made, trigun 1998, but there is a scene where two characters smuggle a girl out of town and she hides under one of the characters long coat/dress so she just looks like an expecting mother taking a stroll with her husband. stan absolutely does that if youre on the skinnier side(just for the same reason it would be harder to have a fake pregnancy belly if youre bigger) to smuggle one of the twins into somewhere.

theres a movie you guys wanna go see but kids only get in for $5? thats ten dollars right there! plus whatever it costs for two adults, what do you think he is, made of money? (tap tap) mabel, get under your graunt/grunkles coat, youre their unborn baby now (mabel thinks this is the funnest thing ever, its like a scene from a spy movie where you infiltrate the enemies base! yes she brings her grappling hook and wears her sneaking into somewhere sweater and earrings)

he will also have you wear a pregnancy belly or wrap some sheets around you to make your stomach look bigger/more pregnant as a way to get ppl to buy more stuff at the mystery shack. he is just a father-to-be trying to get enough money for a good crib for his baby </3 dont you kind folks want to help an expecting family get the stuff they need? snookums, cmere so these loaded- he means generous- uhm, these sweet people can see your baby bump better. tf you mean 'isnt he too old to have a baby', everyone boo this person out of town for shitting on the miracle of life!!! boo them!!

all in all he will absolutely take advantage of having an s/o if you allow him

[remlionheart]

NSFW Alphabet: Chuuya Nakahara Edition ♡

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ MDNI. really needed a fun lil drabble to break up my writer's block and this was perfect. silly but super fun to write. lemme know whatcha think. luv u ♡ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Chuuya definitely gives you aftercare, it's just not always the most well thought out when he’s gotten back from a long night at work. He doesn't remember to have dinner ready or pajamas laid out, but he still holds you as you collapse onto his chest. Laughs with you while the two of you place the 4th doordash order of the week to his apartment since you're both too spent to even think about cooking. He runs light fingers through your hair and kisses your forehead, teasing you for how hard you came while also reminding you of how fuckin' gorgeous you looked bent over for him. The thought of it alone promptly brings his lips back to yours, nearly earning you a round 2 before the food arrives.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It takes Chuuya a long time to admit it, even if it's fairly obvious, but he's self-conscious about his body. About the way he thinks it should look versus the way it actually does. He’s always praising you. Always so good about making you love parts of yourself that you didn't know you could, though he rarely gives himself the same respect. Your thighs get a lot of his attention. He touches them constantly without meaning to. His hand resting on them while he drives. His fingers mindlessly gliding across them while you watch TV before bed. His face buried between them any chance he gets. He loves 'em. You decide to challenge him one day after a shower, using his own words against him: "Chuuya, tell me one thing you love about yourself -" you shoot him a pointed look, not giving him the chance to deflect with his usual sarcasm, "and be serious. You have to mean it." He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment, apprehensively looking over his reflection before he lets out a sharp exhale. "Fine. My eyes." "What about them?" You press. "They're... nice."

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

One of Chuuya's favorite highs in life is being pussy-drunk. Being so completely enamored by your taste and scent that he can't physically think of anything else besides you. He loves the feeling of your cum dripping down his chin. The insanely beautiful fucked-out noises you make for him when you sit on his face and nearly drown him in your release. He gets a sick satisfaction in showing up to work, knowing that there are still remnants of the morning head he gave you clinging to the collar of his shirt. You're his girl and he takes making you cum very seriously.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Chuuya is a dominant people pleaser, which is a dangerous combination to begin with, but especially when it starts blending into his finances. Being a Port Mafia executive, he has more money than he knows what to do with and he fucking loves buying you stuff. Taking you on shopping trips and watching you fill bag after bag with frivolous, designer outfits that you’d never buy for yourself otherwise. Swiping his debit card for purses and necklaces and shoes that total out to nearly $10,000. There's something almost addicting about it, he revels in your reactions. The way you look so awestruck every time he drops a fat stack of cash on you, but also how good it makes him feel being able to spoil you as much as he does. Alexa, what does “findom” mean?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Chuuya’s experienced, but a lot of his past hookups were one nightstands or meaningless flings. Drunken mishaps that held little to no weight in his mind. You've both learned a lot from each other by being comfortable enough to explore things you wouldn't have with previous partners. Communication is so strong with him. He always wants to know what you like and if there’s anything you want to try but haven’t yet. He wants to know everything about your body - wants it to only respond to him. He'd had sex in the past, but he realized that he'd never really properly fucked someone until he met you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As much as Chuuya loves bending you over, he’s such a slut for you being on top. Holding your hips to help guide you and thrusting up into you when you’re not expecting it, going as deep as he can while you sink back onto him with a pretty glazed over expression. The way your eyes widen every time he does it. The duality of being in control while also letting you use him. The view of your tits bouncing so perfectly for him while the sound of your ass smacking against his thighs echoes across the room. He loves watching you struggle to take the whole thing. You're usually holding onto him for support, hands clasped around his neck, your stare locked intently with his while your cunt throbs around him. The pouty fucking look that takes over your face when he plunges into you. You become a whimpering mess, trying to tell him how close you are with broken words as if he can’t feel your walls clenching around him. "Chuuya - 'm, I'm gonna -" "I know baby, keep going. Keep fuckin’ going. Doin’ so good f’me.”

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Chuuya's form of flirting is witty banter. Sarcastic comments that the two of you volley back and forth between each other. He's generally more serious in the moment, but he will literally never pass up the chance to whisper a snarky little nothing in your ear to get you flustered, especially in public. He loves making you blush. Loves knowing that he's capable of getting you so worked up without even touching you. Loves seeing you squirm and swat him away with a feeble, "Chuuya! Not here!"

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Chuuya never really understood the question, "does the carpet match the drapes?" and why it was such a hot topic when it came to redheads. It was wildly irritating growing up and getting asked that so often by his asshole friends. Of course they matched. Why wouldn't they? As an adult, Chuuya fully embraces this though. He takes pride in making sure he's well-groomed. If it were up to him, your lips would always be wrapped around his cock, so he makes sure to keep things as trimmed and polished as he can for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Chuuya is the consent king, always making sure that you're just as into what's going on as he is. He finds subtle ways to check in on you while staying in the moment. "Tell me, baby. Tell me how it feels." He likes to make sure you're present, that you're not thinking about anything else besides the way he feels inside you. He would do anything to make you feel good. Anything. What he can't aways say with his words, he shows through his actions. He lets you know he loves you by stretching and filling you until you can’t see straight. He may act like he’s the one calling the shots, but you'll always cum before he does. He makes damn sure of it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His work schedule is demanding and doesn't always grant him the amount of time he'd like to have with you, so when he's stuck in his office after hours, Chuuya can't fucking help himself. The urge has been there all. day. and he's certain he'll die if he doesn't take care of it right now. He reaches into his coat pocket, dialing your number while he unzips pants and removes his glove with his teeth. His cellphone is wedged between his shoulder and his cheek when your voice finally spills out of the receiver. Before you can even ask how his night's going, you hear it. That desperate, heady tone that he only gets when he hasn't seen you in a few days. "Baby..." he groans, stroking himself upppp and dowwnn. He closes his eyes, imagining what you must look like lying in his bed. "I need you so fuckin' bad right now." "Yeah?" You tease, quietly slipping two fingers under the hem of your panties. "How bad?" It was only a matter of minutes before he was cleaning off his desk from the mess you'd helped him make.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Chuuya is the softest dom. As much as he likes to be in control, he folds so easily when it comes to you. Even when he’s “punishing” you, he’s doing it with things he knows you like. He loves putting collars on you or wrapping his belt around your neck and pulling at both ends until your pretty little pupils blossom into hearts while you struggle to moan out his name. Hearing you beg does something deranged to him that he can't quite put into words. He stays in control for as long as he can, but you always have the upperhand with how bad he wants to taste you. With how bad he wants to be buried inside of you. He'll tease and nip at you and try to drag it out for as long as he can, but at the end of the day, he's just as addicted to you as you are to him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Chuuya will fuck you anywhere and when he says anywhere, he means it. His favorite guilty pleasure though is definitely bringing you into Port Mafia. Making everyone well-aware of your presence as he walks around with you on his arm like you're the shiniest, most expensive accessory he owns. Shoving all of his paperwork off of his desk and bending you over, pinning your hands behind your back and pressing your face against the handcrafted Mahogany. Hiking up your skirt and ramming himself into you, knowing damn well everyone can hear you crying out his name as you cum. His two favorite pastimes: pissing off Mori and fucking you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Chuuya secretly loves the attention you get when the two of you go out, even if it drives him a bit crazy at times. He can't deny the way his cock twitches when he notices the bartender size you up and then immediately avert his eyes when he feels Chuuya's stare on him. Chuuya knows you're gorgeous, it's an absolute fact for him, but to see the other people reel in how pretty you are too fills him with a feral sense of pride. He would fuck you in front of the entire world if he could just to show them what they'll never have.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There are very few things that Chuuya wouldn't do for you, but the one request he would struggle with if asked would be sharing. Even if it was a casual threesome with no strings attached, he’s a Taurus Sun, Scorpio moon - the man does not share and the thought of having to watch someone else touch you would most definitely send him into a murderous tailspin.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Chuuya loves both giving and receiving, for sure. But there's something about the way you taste that almost makes his brain short-circuit. He thinks about it while he's at work. Thinks about it while he's on missions. Thinks about it while he fucks himself when you're not around. He often finds himself daydreaming about his tongue swirling around your clit and the adorable, pitiful, fucked-out noises you make so easily for him. The way you whine and writhe against him. How he can always tell when you're close by the way your words start to break up. That cute little incoherent babble you let out as he plunges an extra finger into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He’s pretty sure that if he had to choose his own death, it would be drowning between your thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Pacing all depends on the mood and setting for Chuuya. It's 1 am and you guys just stumbled back home from the bar? You're wearing the shortest black slip dress he's ever seen in his life, and he's had to restrain himself all night from not dragging you into the club bathroom and having his way with you? He's fucking you into oblivion the second you step inside his apartment. Hands tangling into your hair as he pins you against the wall of the entry way, pulling you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. It's going to be fast, rough, deep. You'll both wake up with bruises and love bites and well-deserved hangovers. But - it's 1 pm on a rainy Tuesday and you guys just got back home from the bookstore? You're wearing an oversized cardigan with a comfy pair of shorts, and he's been quietly admiring you all day, watching you dig through countless bookshelves until you finally found the one you wanted? He's fucking you so thoroughly. Taking his time as he helps you out of your sweater, smiling at your body with each layer of clothing that get tossed to the floor. He's kissing the crook of your neck, telling you how beautiful you are. He's fucking you with slow, sensual, affection. You'll end up drifting off to the sound of the thunderstorm afterward, the two of you wrapped up under a blanket on the couch while the rain taps against the window next to you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Chuuya's a giver who loves a challenge so quickies are right up his alley, really. You'll stop by the apartment on your lunch break, warning him that you only have 15 minutes, but he’ll only roll his eyes in response before telling you to hop up on the counter. He locks in immediately, his concentration fully on you as he spreads you apart. Two fingers holding you open so that his tongue has complete access to your clit, the warmth of his mouth and the pressure of his strokes making your legs shake around his head already and he's just gotten started. He's precise. Calculated. Unrelenting. Even if he's only competing against the clock, he's still never lost.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as you're into it, so is Chuuya. He's very open when it comes to sex, especially when it comes to talking about it with you. You had a wet dream about him fucking you against the window in the sunroom so that the neighbors could see it? Lift that skirt up, angel, let's go give them a show. You read a book where the male lead lightly ran a blade across the main character’s throat while teasing her and you think you want to try it? His knife is already out of his pocket, his hand cradling your jawline. “Tell me how bad you want it, baby.” as he slices through the thin straps of your tank top, smirking at how hard your nipples are while it slips down to your waist. There a very few things he wouldn't be willing to at least try with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Chuuya can generally go a solid 2 rounds before he's completely spent, but if he's drunk, this number could be multiplied depending on his drink of choice that night. Chuuya's stamina is solid. He lasts awhile, but his entire objective while fucking is to make sure you're getting off. He's very in tune and aware of your body and tries to go with the flow of where you're at. If you can handle an hour or two, he'll gladly give it to you. He has no problem playing the long game, but if you're sleepy and only need twenty minutes to get there, he'll make sure he cums with you in that time. A truly adaptable king ˚₊‧ʚ♡ɞ‎‧₊˚

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

There's an armoire in Chuuya's bedroom that houses all of the obscenely expensive vibrators you'd asked him to buy you, not realizing he actually would at the time. He likes to keep them hidden for the most part - out of sight, out of mind. He'll be in the middle of fucking you. Stretching you out while your nails dig into his back. He'll feel your walls start to spasm around him. He'll watch your eyes flutter back. He'll feel how tight and snug your cunt is squeezing him. He'll know you're right there and that's when he'll pull out your favorite wand. Always when you're least expecting it. When you're already so cock-drunk and lost that you don't think you could possibly take anything more, he'll run it along your clit. Your body practically convulsing at the overstimulation. "Chuuya - ohmygod... I... I - can't. I can’t, I can’t -" "Look at me. You can take it, baby. I know you can. Gimme one more, okay? Just like that. There you go. Fuuuck, baby. Just - like... that."

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The amount of sheer pleasure Chuuya derives from making you beg for him should be illegal. He’s constantly teasing you. Constantly trying to coax out desperate little cries from you. You're splayed out beneath him, legs spread beautifully, your cunt nearly dripping onto his sheets and he's still ghosting your lips with his. Wearing the most infuriating grin as he continues to rattle off depraved things like, "Baby, I wish I could, y'know? I really wanna give it to you, but I just don't believe that you want it." all while he's stroking himself just inches above you, making you watch the whole thing in agony but still not letting you touch him yet. "C'mon princess, show me how bad you want it. Let me see how you play with that pussy when I'm not here. Make me fuckin’ believe it.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Chuuya will groan and talk during sex, but he's not necessarily loud. He's way more concerned with the noises you're making anyway. As mentioned, his bedroom love language is taunting. "No? You can't take it anymore? Ohh, your pussy's just so sensitive, huh? That's so sad. My poor sweet girl." before slapping your clit and smirking at you as you whine beneath him. "Oh, look at that. Seems like you can take it after all.” He'll groan against you whenever he goes down on you, reveling in how fucking wet you are for him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Chuuya is secretly sentimental. He might not always admit it, but he doesn't just remember your anniversary - he remembers the outfit you were wearing the first time he met you and what the weather was like that day. He saves ticket stubs from your dates. Takes pictures of you when you're not looking just so he can keep the moment forever. He plans gifts for your birthday weeks in advance. Any time you list off a restaurant that you want to try or a vacation spot you want to visit one day, he secretly jots it down in his notes app. He listens to you, really listens to you when you talk and keeps every gift you give him, no matter how small or insignificant.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Chuuya is 5'3, (though he'll most definitely try to convince you that the measurements are off no matter how many times your scale reaches the the same conclusion). Slender. Nice arms and a slutty fucking waist. Hands, hands, hands. Usually covered by gloves but so fucking pretty and veiny when they're not. Speaking of veiny? Chuuya Nakahara is packing. Giiiiirth, babydoll, and a lot of it. Short men are ALWAYS stacked, you can't argue with science.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Chuuya's anger and sex drive mirror each other in the sense that they're both always on no matter what. Even when they're calmed down, even when they're not as noticeable - all it takes is one wrong (or right) move and he's right there, fully up and ready to go. You touch his leg under the table during dinner one night and he immediately finds an excuse to dismiss the two of you for a few minutes, dragging you to a secluded corner of the bar where he pins you against the wall. His leg wedged between yours, leaving urgent kisses along your collarbone as he creates friction against your clit. “This what you want? For me to fuck you right here?” You try to keep your resolve but it’s hard for him to take you seriously when your objections are all coming out in the form of moans. “My needy fuckin’ girl.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He'll lay with you and talk about your day, but Chuuya is struggling to keep his eyes open after he cums. The minute you nestle into his shoulder, and he feels the warmth of your skin against his, he's fighting for his life to stay awake. Poor baby is just so tired, especially after dealing with Port Mafia all week. He feels safe in your arms. The thought of coming home to you is what gets him through most days anyway so once he's finally actually tangled up in you, he can't help but drift off into the comfort of your scent and the sound of your heartbeat.

⠀𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

‎♡‧₊˚ here’s dazai’s version ‎♡‧₊˚

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch8

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7

Warning: Minors DNI, smut, fingering, doctor play?? grinding, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three months, Eight Days until D-Day

Today was finally the moment Miguel's been waiting for. The day that got you on your nerves. Today, was the day of the health examinations. To be precise, your full body examine given by none other than Miguel.

You were currently in your office, mentally preparing yourself. You could feel your nerves getting the better of you. You had been telling yourself about this for weeks now. Not even your hardest fights got you this nervous.

Recalling your last few weeks, you let out a grunt before sitting on your chair. You hate to admit it, but you took Miguel's advice. This super hero stuff was new to you and because of it, you kept getting injured.

Slowly, but surely, you were letting the Public Eye do their job and protect the people from the small issues. You just took on the villains and other high risk problems. It felt wrong, but nothing bad was happening to anyone.

"(Y/N), it's time. Please head to the twelfth floor for your examination. Miguel has a private room for the two of you." Lyla chirped as she appeared before you, "Do you still need that relaxing sedative?"

"Um, y-yea. Lyla, does...does Miguel know what he's doing."

"Yep. I made sure he studied hard for this," She teased, appearing by your door, "Let's go before you're late."

"Yes."

--------

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose as he waited for you to arrive. Everything he needed was set up for him by the doctors he hired. You were just a few minutes from giving him everything he wanted. Miguel was going to enjoy this.

"S-Sorry I'm late, Miguel...I-I...I'm just nervous." You said, biting your lower lip as you tried to calm down. Miguel resisted a chuckle, finding you quite amusing,

"Well, relax. We're going to start with the normal stuff. Empty your pockets and step on the scale."

"Um, don't judge me...Okay?" You huffed, taking your shoes off and getting on the scale. Miguel raised a brow as typed on his tablet,

"For what? Your weight is below average. You need to eat more."

"I said no judging."

"I'm just stating facts," Miguel said.

You needed to gain more weight if you were going to produce the perfect child. If this was about you thinking that you were fat, then Miguel was going to have to convince you otherwise. Having you sit on the chair, Miguel took your blood pressure first. After that, he went to one of the main courses-your blood.

"Remember, after we take your blood, you're going to feel really dizzy from the relaxing sedative I give you. When you come to, don't push yourself." Miguel warned as he watched your blood drip into the bag.

"I know," You muttered, "Just don't bully me too much, okay?" You asked with a huff.

Miguel just smiled towards you, more focused on your blood. He was being a little greedy and taking a whole ounce from you. This was for the sake of helping you. Miguel was going to make himself into a superior being just like you.

For the sake of his experiments.

Once the blood was drawn, Miguel gave you a minute to relax. He checked your ears, eyes and mouth before giving you the drug. Once you took it, he waited a few minutes for it to kick in. Your body soon started to slump and you wavered in place.

"How's my good girl?" Miguel whispered with a hum, lifting your chin.

"Beeeetter," You slurred, smiling sheepishly.

Miguel couldn't hold back his laughter. He had you where he wanted you. The drug included a little truth serum along with a touch of the same drug that made people high. Taking your robe off, Miguel inhaled deeply at the sight of you. Your body seemed like it was glistering. Tossing the robe aside, Miguel first grabbed your arms, stroking down to your wrists.

"(Y/n), my dear (Y/n), how did you get your powers?" Miguel asked sweetly, watching you shudder,

"Mhm, I got bit....by your radioactive spider," You cooed, leaning towards him, "Mig, be careful~"

"Why?" Miguel smirked at how woozy you were.

"I can shoot webssss~" You giggled.

Miguel raised a brow in awe as he pressed against your wrist, watching the organic webbing shoot. He gasped in awe, eyes sparkling as he did it once more. This was fantastic! You were Miguel's little toy until that drug wore off.

Miguel had exactly one hour to ask you whatever he wanted. To do whatever he wanted to you. Wanting to return to your webbing later, Miguel hummed as he continued his examination. He still had to give you something professional by the end of his.

"(Y/n), why didn't you tell me about this?" He asked softly against your ear.

"I....was afraid that I'll be your next experiment." You whimpered, leaning against Miguel's chest, "I don't want to be cut up."

Miguel felt your body tremble as his hands massaged and examined your breasts for any lumps. His head was against your shoulder, just listening to your sweet, soft whines. Cut up? Oh how wrong you were. Miguel wasn't going to kill you like the others.

He had bigger plans for you.

Miguel grunted lowly as you squirmed against him. Moving away from you as he felt something stir within him, Miguel continued with the examination. He tested your reflexes while telling himself to focus on the main task.

"Did gaining these powers affect any part of your body?" Miguel asked, propping your legs up and removing your panties.

"I can shoot webs~ and stick to walls~" You cooed, giggling lowly. Miguel glanced at you,

"When was your last period?"

"Last week~"

"Still a virgin?" Miguel typed on his tablet.

"Yep. Waiting for you~ Migueeeeeel, I love youuuuu~" You cooed, holding you arms out. Miguel placed his tablet down before washing his hands, "I love you so much!"

"I know, (Y/N). I know," Miguel hummed as he put his gloves on, "I made sure you stayed single, my dear (Y/N). No one is allowed to have you now. Not when you are so, so special."

"Ah~ M-Miguel...d-don't-"

"Shh, the doctor is working," Miguel chuckled.

He wasn't exactly lying. Miguel was performing a full body examination of every part of your body. Spreading your folds, Miguel just scoffed. You were nervous about this part. Your pussy was just dripping for his attention.

It was a shame you weren't going to remember this. Sliding his finger inside your hole, Miguel inhaled to the sounds of your whines. He was just testing for any strange lumps, but this was nice. This stirred that same feeling he tried to ignore.

"Mig~" You whimpered.

Miguel wiggled his finger around, watching you squirm and whine. This was new. A different kind of experiment. Miguel wanted to see what would make you cum. He had watched you do it yourself enough times, how hard could it be?

Inserting another finger, Miguel hovered over you as you reached out for him. His attention was towards your face as you moaned against his touch. His fingers pumping deep inside of you with each thrust. Miguel felt his chest grow heavy as he felt eager for more.

"Why'd you become a hero, (Y/N)?"

"I-I wanted, ah~ t-to save you~!" You moaned. Miguel chuckled darkly as he curled his fingers,

"Save me from what? I think you're the one who needs saving."

Miguel inhaled deeply as you cam against his gloved fingers. Your breathing heavy as you calmed down from your high. Miguel removed his fingers and threw out his gloves before returning to you. Oh how delicious this was.

"Would you do anything for me? Because you love me?"

"Yes,"

"Even be my little trophy, waiting for me to come home and test your stamina?" Miguel's smile turned wicked as he hovered over you again, his pupils blown as he gave you a crazed look, "As I take over the city as the new powered individual, while you wait at home pregnant with the future of humanity?!"

"Mhm,"

Miguel grabbed your cheeks, forcing you to look into his insane looking eyes.

"Answer me, (Y/N), will you be my good girl and do whatever I say?"

"Yes."

Miguel broke into a fit of laughter as he stepped away from you. He leaned against the wall, covering his face as his laughter turned sadistic and cruel. Oh how delicious this was. How perfect you were for him.

Nueva York's precious Spider-Woman was being tainted. Miguel was going to turn you into his personal trophy. Now that he had your blood, Miguel was going to fix himself. He was going to rule over this city with you as his little obedient wife.

"Oh, (Y/N), you drive me insane." Miguel hummed, "Is it hard to keep your secret from me?"

"Yes. Sometimes it feels like you like Spider-Woman more than me,"

Miguel raised a brow as he put your panties back on. You looked like you were about to cry. Rolling his eyes, Miguel went to put your clothes back on.

"Before I knew it was you, I did find Spider-Woman more interesting; however, you were always in my line of interest," Miguel sighed, knowing damn well you weren't going to remember this, "But you were always mine."

"Miggy," You whined.

Miguel felt a shiver run down his spine as you called him that. Grunting lowly, Miguel set up his work and grabbed your wrist. He cussed lowly and had you sit on his lap, your chest against his chest so that he could work.

"Miggy~"

"Stop talking, (Y/N), I need to take notes of everything," Miguel grumbled as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I like this~ So warm~ I love you~"

Miguel grunted once more, finding it hard to concentrate. You were squirming against his lap, breathing softly against his ear. That eerie feeling in his chest return as he felt the urge to do something he had never thought of before.

"Miggy~"

"¡Maldita sea, no puedo follarte hasta que sea como tú! (Dammit, I can't fuck you until I become like you!)" He cussed out in Spanish, which was rare and only when he was really frustrated.

Realizing what he just admitted, Miguel cussed lowly once more. You were really testing him. Miguel had to behave. He couldn't risk his plan by giving in now. Shit, just the thought seemed so ridiculous. This was going to be Miguel's secret.

He was never going to let you know about this weakness in him. No one was going to ever know about this.

"I'm sorry, Miguel," You whispered, apologizing against his ear.

Miguel lazily glanced at you, wondering if you could ease his harden erection. It would be taking advantage of you for sure, but you would still do it. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Miguel just decided to grind his erection against your cunt.

"Miggy~"

"(Y/n), my little stress reliever," Miguel hummed as he took his dick out, rubbing it directly against your panties, "Who is your toughest villain?"

"Ah~ Uh, mhm~"

Miguel chuckled as you shook against his body, moving your hips against his. Your panties getting wetter as Miguel pressed himself against you more.

"D-Doc...O-Ock was ah~ h-hard...H-He hurt me, mhm~ r-really bad, but...you took care of me~" You moaned. Miguel grunted lowly as he felt your body shake from cumming again,

"Wrong answer," He muttered, groaning as he coated your panties white, "It's me."

Finally feeling some relief, Miguel cleaned himself up then you. He didn't want to hear any questions or concerns from you. Placing you back against his lap, Miguel continued to do his work on the computer.

--------

You whimpered lowly, feeling yourself come back to your senses. As you started to waver back into realty, you noticed that you were still in the doctor's office. Resting your head, you groaned softly as you tried to remember what happened.

Everything was a blur.

Turning your head to the side, you saw Miguel working intensely on something. His face just inches away from yours. Sinking that in, you gasped and went to jolt back, but Miguel grabbed you. He pulled you back into his lap, grunting angerily,

"Don't move. I'm focused," He spat.

"Miguel? Why am I-"

"Shh," He hissed.

You kept quiet, still feeling a bit woozy from the drug. Your body felt heavy and your vison was spinning. Relaxing against Miguel, you hummed quietly, enjoying this moment. You felt your eye lids slowly close.

"Tch, it's as if they know I'll kill him." Miguel hissed harshly. You nuzzled into him, whimpering softly,

"Hm?"

"Someone's getting comfortable. Did you forget that I'm your boss?" Miguel huffed, leaning back and glancing towards you.

"Mhm, you said....not to move," You whispered. Miguel's hand rested against your head, sending a shiver down your spine,

"Because you're reacting poorly to the drug. I didn't expect your body to be so sensitive," Miguel hummed, smirking, "But, since you were such a good girl for me, I'll treat you to dinner. We have to get your blood cells pumping."

"I'd like that,"

Your smile grew wide as you stayed in Miguel's lap for a while longer. This was nice. Maybe, just maybe, you could try and ask him out for a proper date. With how Miguel has been lately, there might be a slither of a chance he says yes.

"Oh, and (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Miguel?"

"If you call me Miggy again, I'll have to punish you." Miguel said firmly.

Your face turned bright red as you apologized and buried your face into his shoulder. You had only called him that in your wet dreams. Now you were worried about what else you said while you were drugged. Hopefully nothing more than just the little nickname you called him.

--------

Miguel kept you on his lap for another hour or so. He quite enjoyed the thought of having the city's favorite super hero on his lap. It won't be long until he joined the game and turned this city into his playground.

A villain's playground.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter

(Going on a short break, gotta finish Persona 3 Reload in time for Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth!)

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Why do you think that? - Nico Hischier

Word Count - 4400

Author's Note - I don't know how I feel about this segment part of me likes it, but as I was writing it I don't think it turned out as I wanted it to in my head. I don't know, let me know what you guys think as always.

Warnings - reader has body dysmorphia, mentions of anxiety, and low self-esteem due to body issues, but does end HAPPILY.

Summary - Y/N was happy with Nico, he made her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. But what happens when an old friend of Y/N visits and they start looking back on old pictures. Or how does Nico handle Y/N pushing away when her body dysmorphia seems to finally catch up to her after so long of it being pushed to the back of her mind.

let me love you masterlist main masterlist

Dating Nico has been one of the best experiences of your life. He was like a breath of fresh air because even on the toughest days he would never judge you for what you felt, he truly loved you for all parts of you including the parts you hated about yourself.  Since meeting Nico, you truly haven’t had as many thoughts when it came to how you saw hips and the fact that they had some fat on them. Or how your stomach was very round and not the standard of beauty. Somehow Nico, without him even knowing, gave you the confidence to help not obsess over those parts of your body as you did before because he made you truly believe you were the most beautiful thing to walk the earth. 

When you got the call from your old high school friend Ethan, who was your best friend all of high school, and even college you would describe him as someone who was always there, always present, like a brother. But as anyone’s twentys’ naturally does, people drift apart in the most natural ways. He decided to move to San Francisco and start his career and you moved to New Jersey for the same reason. 

When Ethan called and told you that he was in town for the week due to work. Both of you immediately knew that you definitely needed a night to catch up after so long. The plan was Ethan would come over after work, and you guys would have dinner together at your apartment and then head to Nico’s home game after. Nico already needs to leave for the stadium before Ethan gets off work, so you told Nico you would introduce him to your friend after the game. 

The dinner was filled with reminiscing on all your memories together over the years. Laughter could be heard throughout the apartment at all the stories being told between the two of you about past memories. The night didn’t start to go downhill, until you were doing the dishes. Ethan was leaning against the counter near your fridge, still talking to you while you washed. That’s when he noticed all the little polaroids of you and Nico over the past two years. 

“Oh my god you still do that?!” The shock was clear in his voice, but with your back facing him you weren’t sure what he was talking about.

“Do what?” asking as you slightly turn your neck to see what Ethan was looking at. Noticing he was looking at the polaroids you nodded your head. “Yeah I hadn’t since college but I don’t know, Nico one day saw my old polaroid camera and some old pictures and it kind of just happened. Now anytime we travel somewhere new, or some type of event we take one. Even if it’s just a selfie.” you chuckled to yourself.

Remembering going to a family wedding last summer and taking a polaroid in the hotel bathroom because Nico insisted. To this Nico says it’s his favorite picture of you looking up at him, he looks down at you with all the love his eyes could have, as he watches you lean up on your toes trying to steal a kiss. The camera being held on his side as it flashes a mirror selfie, the bathroom counter covered in all your makeup products but Nico insisted he needed his picture. 

“Wait, you still have them?” Ethan’s booming voice full of excitement and reminiscing brings you out of your daydream. Turning the water off and drying your hands you turn to him. 

“Yeah somewhere around here.”

 “We still have an hour before we need to leave for the game right? Could we look at some of them?” He asks, his face full of excitement to see all your polaroids from over the years, knowing that it will probably unlock some memories that you both have forgotten. 

“Sure I guess if you want. I'll grab them from my room, meet ya in the living room.” A smile on your face at the idea of being able to go through the pictures with someone who was actually there. 

It only took you a few minutes to grab the two shoe boxes you kept most of your old polaroids in. Most of it was fighting to reach the top shelf that Nico put them on to create more space and being too stubborn to go ask Ethan for help. 

“Here they are.” making your way to the living room, setting the boxes done on the coffee table and sitting on the other end of the coach, your back resting against the arm of the couch. 

“Damn girl you really haven’t changed.” he says teasingly pointing out the fact that you’re still using the same shoeboxes to keep all your old polaroids in. 

“What can I say? I’m not sure if it’s more about tradition or pure laziness.” softly admitting that you haven’t ever even thought about putting them in a proper album. Unlike the extra ones you and Nico have. Almost all of them displayed on the fridge, in cute frames from Amazon that Nico insisted on, some in his stale, and his favorite currently in his pocket tucked in his wallet. 

Reaching for one of the boxes, Ethan puts it between you both as he turns to face you on the coach. Opening the lid and setting it on the floor, he reaches in and grabs the first picture on top. It’s both of you from your first homecoming dance Freshman year. Standing back to back, arms crossed laughing with some dumb glow stick glasses on. 

“Oh my god I can’t believe we were ever that young,” he admits. “Hey isn’t this the first one, like they were taking them that night or something.” 

“Yeah the one that started it all” you say softly, as Ethan keeps going on and on about what he remembers at that night. But your mind was occupied with other thoughts consumed with how snug your stomach looked in the dress, how round it stuck out compared to Ethan who stood next to you. Even though you can’t see it through his white dress shirt, you know at the time he had a 6 pack at the time. 

Ethan kept pulling out pictures, one by one some of them made you feel sick, looking at how big you looked. Some made you angry because how dare you make yourself think you were fat at the time but you weren’t. In fact, in the one from sophomore year of college, your stomach was as flat as the other girls standing next to you. In the photo all the girls are laughing except you. Even though you were drunk you remember that photo being taken like it happened five minutes ago. Remembering how one of the girls insisted they wanted polaroids with you like Ethan had currently hanging up in your dorm. Even though you try to forget, you will never forget how your pulse quickened because you believed that you gained more than a ‘Freshman fifteen’. Sucking in your stomach trying to hide behind the girls who stood around you, but they insisted on you being front and center. 

Gosh how you remember how your body trembled slightly, red solo cup in hand, you felt like an elephant in that moment. Remembering this picture you dreaded this picture being picked out when Ethan asked to look at all the old polaroids. 

“Dude you looked so fucking hot that night. Remember I was visiting you that weekend.” Still looking at the little photo.

“Hmmm” Even though you tried to get your eyes to look up from the photos to look somewhere that wasn’t making you either a)feel like shit for looking so big and still not having the body type you want or b) look away to ehlp the angry that was stewing from believing that you looked ugly back then for your stomach and wide hips, but at least then they were defined not all you had was fat rolls, where your hips should point out. 

“Y/N?” Ethan called your name for the third time in the 5 minutes, you were lost in your own thoughts. 

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if you were okay?” concern laced in his voice. 

“Yeah great, we should get ready to go. Let me just change into something Devils related I’ll be right back.” you mumble the last part as you quickly turn to escape to your room. Leaving Ethan confused, because even though you considered him a brother for so many years, you battled your issues about your body by yourself. 

Standing in front of your full length mirror in nothing but your sports bra and leggings, you can’t help but pinch the skin around your hips, rolling the fat between your fingers. Noticing how worse you look than almost 5 years ago, even though back then you thought you looked the worse you ever had. But now, today, no your body was aging and you were gaining fat, and you hated yourself for it. Bringing back all those irrational feelings and thoughts you had when it came to being around your appearance. 

Originally you were planning on wearing the athletic leggings you were currently wearing and a crop top to the game. The crop top was a jersey crop top with his number on the back. He loved when you wore his jersey, but he really really loved when you wore that crop top. He told you one time that looking up in the stands and seeing you in it. Watching guys try to check you out, until they realized that it was a custom crop top. The back didn’t just have his number on it, it said husband on it where traditionally his name would be. Even though you weren’t married or even engaged. Nico knew you were it for him and it was only a matter of time before he got down on one knee. 

But now, feeling self conscious, even though you told Nico you would wear it tonight, you decided to change into your big black boyfriend style jeans that hide most of your lower stomach. Along with grabbing Nico’s extra jersey he kept, not only is Nico alone much bigger than you but this was meant for him in gear. It looked like you were swimming in and somehow you still felt like people could see your stomach like you were 9 months pregnant. Throwing on a black beanie with the devils logo on it because you always got cold in the stadium you left your bedroom to meet Ethan in the living room. 

“Hey ready?” you asked as you stood by the door and slid on some ugg booties. 

“Yeah. hey did I upset you earlier?” Looking up you could see Ethan was holding his breath, his eyes full of concern for you. 

“Nope I’m good, just got lost in thought about tonight’s game. Sorry” It was a real bullshit excuse, but it was the first thing you thought of. As the lie left your lips, you hoped that with the years apart Ethan couldn’t still read you like the back of his hand and could tell if you were lying. He just nodded at you, he never addressed if he knew or not and it made you very grateful for him in that moment. 

—---------------------------------------------------

The drive to the game was fine, both of you somehow falling back into your old comfort of being close for so many years. Driving into the level of the parking garage that was reserved for players and their families, security waving at you as you passed. 

“Whoa.” you could hear Ethan mumble from the passenger seat. 

“Honestly the parking is the best park” you joked, both of you laughing as you got out of the car and made your way into the stadium. 

Quickly you made it to your seats, you chose not to sit with the wags in the suite because you had Ethan. Sitting a few rows behind the devils bench. Since you stayed at the apartment a little longer than usual, you missed warmups. But you made it just in time to your seats right before puck drop. Nico saw you immediately and smiled, but then it dropped a little when he saw Ethan. It was then that you realized you had never actually told Nico that your friend from high school was a boy. ‘Fuck me’ you repeated in your head. It wasn’t that Nico didn’t trust you, he just didn’t trust others. He was also very big on open communication and you knew he probably thought you tried to hide on purpose which wasn’t the case. 

The first period was okay, Nico played a lot more aggressive towards the other team than he normally would. He was able to score a goal and one assist so he was kind of on fire from that standpoint. But everyone who knew him, could tell he was on edge, even Ethan who was next to you asked you about it. 

“Yeah he’s okay I think” you mumbled. Pulling out your phone to see Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend even texted you to ask if everything was okay. Knowing that you will probably regret it later you ignored her and decided to text Nico. Knowing that it was a long shot that he checked his phone during intermission, you prayed that he would given the current situation, because honestly after the day you’ve had you don’t think you can mentally handle Nico being upset with you. 

Neeks 🏒Sent 7:30 PM

I swear it slipped my mind Neeks. 

Patiently you waited for a response, holding your phone in your hand but also still entertaining Ethan you felt your phone buzz 

Schatzi received 7:40 PM

Okay. I believe you. 

Is he an ex?

Schatzi received 7:43 PM

Nevermind I hate myself for asking that. 

Especially over text. See you after schatzi. 

Neeks 🏒 7:44 PM

No never, he’s like my brother. 

Please don’t apologize for asking. I love you. 

Nico heard your last message and then he was gone, focused back on talking to the team and rehydrating you. Feeling more at ease then you did earlier you somehow made it through the rest of the game. The Devils won against the Stars 3 - 1, you felt on fire as you stood and cheered with the rest of the fans. 

Turning to Ethan you gestured towards the ice, knowing that Nico was going to come over because he had to go back to the locker room and do post game press tonight. Nico took his helmet off as he skated off the ice to stand in the tunnel for you guys. Security knowing you let you pass, and eventually Ethan once you told him he was with you. 

“Hi you played so good.” As you greeted Nico with a hug in the tunnel. It wasn’t the prettiest hug given all the gear and even more so height difference with his skates on. 

“Thank you baby. Sorry” he whispered the end in your ear. Reaching up to deepen the hug for a few more seconds. Your body automatically stiffened as he brought his hands to your hips squeezing, immediately you tried to push the negative thoughts to the back of your mind that were flooding in by that one little simple touch from Nico. 

“I’m sorry too.” Pulling away you couldn’t help the smile knowing that there wasn’t any weird tension between you both. But the smile didn’t reach your eyes and Nico noticed immediately, his eyes quickly flashing you a questioning look before you both turned to the other person standing in the tunnel next to you. 

Quickly you introduced the pair, before Nico had to quickly head to the locker room and shower before some quick interviews. Walking out of the stadium, Ethan told you that he had a great time catching up and went ahead and ordered an uber so you didn’t have to drive him home. 

It worked out since Nico texted you to wait for him, since he pulled with the Hughes brothers to the game with the intention of driving home with you at the end of the night. Once Ethan got in his uber you made your way back into the Rock, and quickly flashed your family badge and slowly made your way to the tunnel with locker rooms. 

Finding yourself getting lost in your head, over obsessing about how your body currently looked compared to the other wags as they waited for their partners. Even though you tried you couldn’t help yourself from comparing your body to theirs. None of them had round hips that you couldn’t even see their figure due to the fat on them. Nor were they above the size 3 on a good day. You must if been lost in your thoughts for longer then you thought because before you knew you felt someone touch your arm, slightly jumping at the touch. 

“Schatzi it’s me” Nico’s surprised by your reaction to his touch. 

“Sorry I was distracted.”

“I could tell” A light chuckle left his lips. “Wanna talk about what you were thinking about?” As he steps closer into your space, normally you would love it when he wrapped his arms around you and caged you against the wall behind you.

“Nico please, I just wanna go home.” you begged him, the hurt that flashed across his face left as quickly as it came. 

“Yeah let’s go.” backing up and taking your hand as he led you both to your car. “I’ll drive home baby.” he offered as you made it to the car, you unlocked it and he put his gear in the backseat. As you slipped into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt you couldn’t help but think about how round your stomach was despite the jersey you were wearing. 

Nico went to reach his hand over, he tried putting it on your thigh but you just decided to hold it between your own, tracing each tiny scare that you could see. There was no hiding that something was off with you, and you knew he knew something was wrong and it was only a matter of time before he asked you. Thankfully you made it all the way back to your apartment before he dared to open his mouth, praying that you were in the clear. As you both made it to your bedroom. Nico made his way to the in-suite bathroom to start his night time routine. But all you had the energy to do was grab Nico’s biggest oversize shirt, strip your clothes off you currently had on, not even bothering to put them in the hamper and slip under the covers. 

Nico came out a few minutes later, at first he didn’t notice the lump that was your body in the darkness of the room, Not until after he changed into sweats and turned to shoot his clothes in the dirty hamper. “KOBE!” He yelled, you weren’t facing him but you knew that meant he made it, and that was when he noticed that you didn’t put your clothes in the hamper. Something that you literally bicker at him if he doesn’t do it immediately. It was then that he realized you were already under the covers, you didn’t even do any skin care, shit he thought to himself you didn’t even brush your teeth. His face was a deep frown as he was worried about what happened from the time he left for the game to now merely 6 hours later. 

He climbed under the covers and reached out for you, you were on the far edge of the bed trying to take as little space as possible. Even though you felt like you were hogging the bed with your body. Lost in your one mind, your own dark thoughts of insecurities about how you looked clouding your mind, you didn’t even notice Nico’s light touches trying to reach out for you.

“Y/N” he gently said. Somehow that immediately brought you out of your trance, he never called you by your name, not even around his teammates, family it didn’t matter it was always schatzi, baby, love, never Y/N. 

Making a sound of acknowledgement that you heard him, he rested under your hip bone and gently rubbed it, trying to bring you comfort, but it just made you stiffen. Making all your insecure thoughts come flooding in at even a faster rate, you think about why he was with you when he could have any girl he wanted. Noticing your body stiffen at his touch, he deeply sighed. “My love. Please look at me.” The brokenness of his voice, broke your spirit cutting deep into you, the last thing you wanted was to hurt Nico. He scooted closer to you, or maybe he pulled you closer you couldn’t tell and honestly didn’t care because all you craved was his touch while you still had it before your mind pushed him away like everyone else. 

Closing your eyes you covered your face with your arm as Nico gently turned you in his arms. Now you were laying your back, Nico resting on his arm, looking down at you. “Why are you crying baby?” Nico was waiting for you to talk, you both knew he wasn’t gonna let it go until you told him what was wrong. He spoke up, this time his words surprised you “Was it Ethan?” his voice laced with anger at the thought that something happened when he wasn’t here. 

“No.” 

“Then what?” he gently asked, his hand moving from your hips to go up and down your side. 

“Do you hate my body?” you spoke softly. Nico’s hand stopped, causing you to cry a little harder out of your own insecurities coming to life. Was this it? Was this the moment everything ended with him? Did he finally realize that you didn’t have a perfect body like all the other wags? 

“Why would you think that?” pulling you closer once his brain catches up to your words. The shock was clear in his voice, as to why you would ever think he could hate any part of you. 

“Because I do.” turning to him. He pulls you into your arms, holding you tightly against himself, one arm tucked around your waist, the other almost crashing your head into his shoulder. Any other time you would complain, but tonight you welcomed the bone crushing feeling. After a few minutes of crying, your tears seem to finally slow down enough, your throat raw from the sobs that you left out, as your still body slightly shakes, riding out this emotional turmoil. 

“Again. Why would you think that?” Although Nico spoke soft, in the dark dimmed lighting of your bedroom, the gravity of his voice was clear. 

“I always have.” Letting out a sigh as you slightly pushed your head away so you could look up at Nico. His soft brown eyes easily show the hurt within them, gazing intently into yours as he waited patiently for you to continue. “I - I hate my hips, and I hate how round my stomach is.” Taking a few more breaths you continued. 

“You know how we take polaroids cause you found out I use to do it as a teenager and in college?” you softly ask. The confusion of the sudden change of subject was clear in Nico’s face but nonetheless he nodded, knowing it would all connect in the end. “Well Ethan saw the ones on our fridge tonight, and I told him how it started because you found some of the old ones.” 

“Okay” he softly said, encouraging you to continue. 

“Well I don’t know if I ever told you, but I actually started that because of my first school dance in high school, they were taking polaroids. Ethan and I took the first one together and I don’t know if it kind of stuck. I begged my mom for one for Crhistmas and before I knew it I had a collection.” Taking a deep breath you continued, looking anywhere but at Nico during your next confession. 

“Well I always believed I was big in high school, I became obsessed with the fact that all my friends had guys around fighting for their attention but no one did that for me. It made me think it was because of my body, my hips are wider than most girls and they have fat on them. And my stomach it-” 

“Why is all of this coming up now though baby?”

“Well Ethan asked to look at the old ones I had, so we did. But they just made me angry because I wasn’t that big in some of them at all. I made myself believe that I was fat but I wasn’t, and it made me angry because this girl believed she was unlovable because of her body, and I carried that shit with me! And now I actually am big since college and you deserve someone who isn’t anything less perfect” 

“Stop.” he slightly begged not because he didn’t want to hear your thoughts but because they were physically causing him pain, as to how someone so beautiful could think so little of themselves. 

“You my sweet Y/N are the definition of beauty. I don’t know what you're talking about with this hip wide, stomach bullshit. You are the most beautiful, loving, sexy girl I have ever seen. I don’t want anyone else okay? Ever. “ His voice makes emphasis on his last words. 

“I am deeply, madly, in love with you. Do you think I ever forced a girl to take pictures let alone POLAROIDS with me for every little thing?” The question came off as slightly rhetorical, but he still in true Nico flash giggled in the middle of a dramatic pause. “No. Because I think in the back of my mind, I always knew there would be someone after them, but you, you're it for me. Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

“I think we should talk more tomorrow about getting help. This sounds serious, my love.” Shaking your head okay to his suggestion. “Good. I love you.” leaving a gently kiss in between each word he continued to whisper sweet nothings until he felt your body relax, causing him to finally feel at ease truly for the first time that night, allowing both of you to fall asleep in a deep slumber.

[faggy--butch]

I think people underestimate the effect of being fat on gender. Like tips and tools for passing for any gender often just don't consider fat people. Gendered norms don't consider fat people. Fat people are so often degendered and viewed as worth less because of it. This also affects trans people's ability to enact their gender or pass. I often see skinny trans people talking about their experiences and stuff and it's like a whole other world of experiencing gender and I don't think this is talked enough about as a significant intersection of identity (because of fatphobia and the rhetoric of weight being a choice). Like there will be the occasional mention of don't listen to passing tips that say to slim down or whatever but rarely a full nuanced discussion of how gender as a whole works differently for fat bodies

Thank you for putting into words the exact feelings I've had for a long time.The way my fat body shapes my gender is something that I can't ignore. I remember growing up in the early and mid 2000s where the titular "girl" were people like Hilary Duff and Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez, thin and cute and and completely unachievable for me.

I remember having meltdowns at the store when I saw those little pink rhinestone shirts where the curves were preset. I remember going to hot topic and seeing the clothing that wouldn't even fit one whole boob if I tried to put them on.

It was devastating. Learning I was non binary eased this a lot, making me realize I didn't have to try so hard to pass as a cis girl anymore but Even still, trying to live as a man wasn't any easier, men have the same devastating weight standards.

With the talk of Gym bros having eating disorders and everything. They have same kind of toxic gender expectation, except now It's that you have to be big and strong. You can almost get away with it if you're "Strong" fat, but having visible breasts or a hanging tummy or soft face will degender you just the same. Fat people are not allowed to have a gender until we "lose an acceptable about of weight."

We're almost On standby mode, saying things like "when I lose weight I'll finally be happy, when I can fit into those clothes I'll finally be loved and accepted. When i lose weight I'll finally be the real me"

which is reinforced by media and those around you. We have to over perform gender to be even a little bit included, and then that might not even work if you're in a larger fat body. And god if this isn't 12000% reinforced when It comes to transgender expectations.

I mean you see it when people post about how sad and fat they were pretransition, and then become beautiful thin butterflies post transition. You can see it in how tgirl tummy tuesday is only ever thin or slightly fat girls. You can see it in the expectation of trans men to be either big and strong or thin waifish twinks, the only representation we get is conventionally attractive trans people Trans people get all the cruel gender expectations that cis people get, but doubled or tripled, and the fat people are left in the dust until we can lose enough weight to be included. I'm probably going to talk about this more because I have so much to say about it.

[postoctobrist]

Literally same situation with the bi bottom.

(not really an ask just rambling)

I’m an intersex nb fat dyke and a heavily bottom leaning switch.

I have some anxiety about top/bottom expectations when I’m dating or hooking up with trans women, especially as I’m afab and still get read as a cis woman by a lot of people. Being fat doesn’t help as you have to try so damn hard to be read as androgynous. Like I want to be feminine but as a faggot, y’know? Feminine in the dyke is my gender sense.

The first few trans women I dated or hooked up with were very strict bottoms, one a true pillow princess. I pushed myself to top exclusively because I wanted to give them pleasure, and that was wonderful, but I never got off. Things would fizzle out.

This spring I dated this girl who was a strict top and it absolutely ruined me. A pretty pink princess with a mean streak. My first experience with a femme top. Like I would literally come from them just spitting in my mouth. GOD. They ended up not wanting anything serious.

I have a few other people I’m talking to rn, people I’ve been lucky enough to meet in person in my community, and I do make little jokes sometimes about being a bottom that I can only hope is conveying that information in an effective yet non-creepy way.

I don’t know how else to really convey that I’m (respectfully) chomping at the bit to be topped. Willing to switch but I need to feel wanted and have my pleasure be taken seriously too.

I don’t want any trans woman I’m connecting with to feel like I’m expecting her to use her body in a way she’s not comfortable with. And I absolutely love a silicone dick, that’s not the issue. I just really… god if I could just find a femme top again… who’s available…

as a fellow lover of femme tops you just have to articulate your desires clearly but respectfully. there’s an old line from a lesbian zine I like: there’s no guaranteed way to find a partner, but there are two guaranteed ways not to: don’t go out, and go out and sit in the corner not talking to anyone. if you’re trying and striking out you just have to keep your confidence up and keep trying

[iskandersmuts]

Diplomat's Party

Male Reader x Yuna

Tags: Smut, Yuna Smut, Sex, Blowjob, Creampie

My first attempt. I will be thankful with some feedback with anything.

1

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You see the man on the mirror. That’s you inside the bathroom talking to yourself for gaining courage. “You can do it.” You say. “You did this for the last year.” Finally, you hide again in one of the bathroom’s cabinets. One more time breathe in and breathe out. Is just matter of endure this feeling three more hours.

You leave the bathroom and start counting the hours. Right now is nine o’clock. You can leave freely this party at midnight. As your boss always says “Your job at parties is like being a Cinderella. You arrive show the best you have and before the worst parts of you appear you leave. Nobody wants to know how cool or shitty you are when you are bored or even worse drunk. So no one of you, the diplomats, can show that side. Remember we are representing a country.” He is right we can’t show some parts of ourselves.

But these parties are actually a pain in the ass. The most of the people are here for work. They are not resting. They are not having fun. They are trying to get some confidential information that will help their own interest or the interest of their countries. Is like an international convention of ass lickers, brownosers or whatever you call it. They gather together and start talking about nonsense: “Did you hear about that African president lecturing Macron about colonialism?” or “Did you see what this Bukele did with the cryptocurrency?” You just can’t say. “Of course, dumbass you know that every ass licker here read the same Foreign Affairs subscription that you read.” You just say whatever thing they also know “Yeah and it seems that IOSCO now has a project bill for cryptocurrency.” And then the questions start. “Do you have any notices on the votes of the draft resolution of the injunction… and blah blah” Just things that nobody cares about. Two years ago, you pleaded your boss to let you assist to this kind of events. And now is your third time a week in these events. You would prefer getting a massage with hot stones in your balls right now. But not everything is bad. In this field: the diplomacy. You must be really lucky to find a friend. And you were really lucky, your honest friend is Diego an Argentinian diplomat.

2

In this party at Lotte Hotel Diego does a sign asking you to leave the building and go to the yard. Both of you get outside and start talking.

“Dude, did you hear the big news?” Says Diego.

“Diego if is a diplomat thing I really don’t want to talk about that right now.” You say with your voice showing boredom.

“No is not that kind of thing. You know me. I don’t like to talk about that stuff too. Is about the party of tonight.”

“What? Someone find out about those two gay diplomats that are in a relationship?” You ask.

Diego laughs. “No not that. Something interesting. Korea has changed the main event of tonight!”

“That means that I’m not going to hear the fat lady singing AGAIN the fucking Madame Butterfly.” You say.

“Yes. And also, as they were looking for something new. Moon Jae In used his trick up his sleeve and contracted a kpop group.”

“WAIT WHAT? WHO? TELL ME!” You say almost shouting.

“Is a girl group. JYP…”

“Fucking Twice is coming? Oh my god! Really?”

“No not Twice a bit younger.”

“NMIXX? But they have few songs!” You say complaining.

“Not that younger.”

“ITZY? ARE YOU FUKING KIDDING ME?!”

“No. No. It’s for real. They are coming.”

You guessed correctly.

And now you are thinking: Finally, something good happened on these useless parties. And you are smiling in a weird way. You know is weird because Diego told you. And then you use your experience of these years to act the best you can. As a diplomat you can’t be a crazy fan even more as you are here actually “working”.  

3

The girls finally arrive. All guests are invited to gather and enjoy the show. Itzy is on the scene they greet everybody. You notice that they are not cheerful as they are in concerts of world tours. They are trying to be mature. They start with “Dalla Dalla”. You resist the urge of fanchant with the song. When they end nobody claps. For the awkward situation they start immediately another song. It happens the same nobody claps or even cheers.

This situation reminds you the footage of Red Velvet presenting at North Korea. The public were all quiet. This was the same. These boring diplomats don’t celebrate anything. Yeji as the leader announces that they are going to perform the last song. “Cheshire”. You want to fanchant so bad. But you can’t. They nailed the last song; the others were good too. But in this song, you see that they are trying their best as is their last song and till now they didn’t get any response from the public. When the song ends you don’t resist the urge and you start clapping. The people around you look at you as a weirdo. But then Diego joins you and other Koreans too. Then everybody is forced to do it. You look at them. All the girls are smiling. You keep clapping and you stand up.

“That was nice, girls” you shout.

This time just some of the other guests joins. And the rest of them just look at you and the others as weirdos.

This moment was definitively the most memorable. Because you see the girls looking at the few ones clapping while smiling. They finally thank everybody and leave the scenario.

4

You start walking around the party just remembering the faces of the girls when they saw you clapping. Their expressions. They are shocked at first. They look at you and then start smiling. It was a rough night for them. But you did the night a little bit easier for them.

Now just some minutes till midnight. You made your job and you saw Itzy you deserve a fucking drink. So, you start walking towards the bar.

“Look that old geezer is trying to dance” Says someone.

You notice that this is the voice of a woman.

You laugh.

Someone appears in front of you looks you directly inside the eyes and says. “Are you laughing at us?”

You are caught off of guard. “No sorry I didn’t mean that. Is just that no one here uses that kind of word ‘old geezer’” You look at her face trying to know his name. “Omo. Sorry Chaeryeong-shi. I really didn’t mean to make fun of you.”

Chaeryeong looks at you. “Do you know my name? Finally, I thought nobody here knew who we are.” She pauses and continues. “And don’t worry I’m pretty sure that Ryujin-unnie doesn’t care if you laugh or not, right, unnie?”

“You are pretty damm right, Chae.” Says Ryujin. “Is just that the old geezer…” You start to laugh again while she continues. “looked really hilarious when he started dancing.”

You see that behind both, Ryujin and Chaeryeong, are the other members of the group. You are internally jumping so hard that maybe your head will hit the roof. But you try to keep your composure. “Nice to meet you all of you.” You look at your watch is just past midnight. Fuck it you are not “working” anymore. “I’m really a big fan of yours.”

The other girls gather around you when they see that you are talking with Ryujin. They stand up beside you. There it is Yuna with her scenary outfit.

While you are looking at her you try to avoid looking at her chest. Or at least pretend that you are not doing it. She is using baggy pants. You wanted to look her legs too. That’s too bad. But you are lucky enough to look her perfect flat belly. When she sees you, she just smiles at you. The other girls as Yuna are wearing also an scenary outfit all of them have a blue or sky blue piece. But Yuna is the one that caught your eye.  

“You are not from here, right?” Asks Ryujin. Yeji gives a little slap on Ryujin’s arm. She is the leader indeed.

You are thinking. Thanks Ryujin. You saved me. I owe you one. It was getting weird because I was looking Yuna for too long.

“Yes yes. I’m not from here. I’m a diplomat assigned here at Korea, Ryujin-shi.”

“You are a diplomat?” Asks Lia. “I always thought that diplomats were old men.”

You answer. “Well the ones that appear on television they are. And maybe as they are the most known for the public you think that. But actually in my country if you do the right things. You can start as a diplomat at 23 years old.”

“Yeah you look kind of young. But here the most of them are old geezers.” Says Ryujin. You laugh. “I thought that the reason why nobody clapped was that they are old geezers. But maybe is because they do what you do.”

“Well. Yeah the most of the times the show is a snob thing. Like opera or traditional theather.”

Ryujin interrupts you. “What thing? What did you say?”

Yuna starts laughing. You answer Ryujin. “See your maknae here knows what I said. Yuna-shi would you mind explaining her?”

Yuna looks at you. Doubtful starts speaking. “Snob is like people that likes fancy things just because they want to be different. Right?” She looks at you.

You are melting. The eyes of your Itzy’s bias are looking right at you.

“Yeah… Is just like that, Yuna-shi.” You answer. “The people here like that kind of things. Kind of unique or least popular. The people around here think that the things that they are discussing are the most important things ever. They are so full of themselves.”

“And… You are here... So, you too?” Asks Yuna looking you again.

You smile. “I hope I don’t. Maybe I would be just like them if I answer that. How about you discover if I’m like them.” You look at Yuna.

In your head you ran the entire place 10 times. You are flirting with Itzy’s Yuna. You are nervous as fuck.

“We’ll see. Then.” Answers Yuna and grins.

Yeji looked what happened. Actually, the whole girl group watched you flirting with their maknae. Yeji stands between you and Yuna and starts shaking your hand. “You are the one that clapped for us, right? Let me thank you for that. We’d like to stay around but we actually just came here for a personal matter. We are going to the bar. It looks like you are about to leave this party, right?”

Her words weren’t even smooth. You were clearly kicked out. “Is that true? I see. Well, thank you for greeting me.” You say trying to sound as polite as you can. “Well maybe I should go…”

What you were saying is interrupted by Yuna holding Yeji’s arms with her hands. She starts pouting. “Unnie, please.”

Yeji’s answer is silence pretending Yuna said nothing. Yuna starts pouting again. “Yeji unnie, please. Besides he is a Midzy, right?” Yuna looks at you.

“Yeah. As I said I’m a big fan.” You add.

When Yeji says nothing again. And you think this is lost. Yuna uses his final technique her little kitten face. He is pleading looking directly at Yeji. Just as Pussy in boots in Shrek. You don’t receive fully the little kitten face but you see it by the side.

Fuck. You are willing to give your house if she asks you doing that face. And you start wondering why the governments and international organizations spent so much money training people like you to end wars. When probably all they need is the Yuna’s little kitten face. Dam even if she asks Putin to end the war. Will he say no?

Yeji tries to avoid her face or maybe just look at the others trying to find an answer. Ryujin just shrugs like saying I don’t care. Lia and Chaeryeong that were looking Yuna’s little kitten face just nod. Yeji sighs and says. “Fine. He can come.”

“Yaaaaaay” says Yuna. She takes your arm and pulls you to start moving. Then she releases so you can follow them.

That expression that she just used was the bubbliest yet the most attractive you’ve ever seen. And she touched you. You can die right now. You start walking behind them. You just can’t help and you take a peek at their asses. Ryujin has a really bubbly ass. Chaeryeong has the largest one and seems like is not that soft because has muscles around. Lia has the softest one like you can sleep there. Yeji has a cute butt. And finally, Yuna has a bubbly cute ass. She is using baggy pants but her butt can be noticed trough them.

While walking Yuna turns lightly her head to you to ask you. “Hey Mr. Diplomat how old… are you?” She paused because she noticed you looking her ass. You were caught in fraganti so you just looked at her and smile. “Well mmmmm… I’m actually 25 years old. International age I mean.”

After you answer Yuna says something to Yeji. Yeji also turns her head to you. Look at you and nods to Yuna.

All of you finally arrive at the bar. Ryujin asks for champagne for everybody including you. She didn’t ask any of you. She just ordered. Yeji slaps her arm. “Ryujin yaaa. Why do you always do that?”

Ryujin answers. “It doesn’t matter. All of us were going to drink that anyway. Right?”

You see around and everybody is nodding. It seems that the dominant Ryujin you see trough tv screen is actually a dominant Ryujin in real life.

“Let’s make a toast. Raise your glasses” Says Yeji. And by looking at the girls and you she is ordering you to do it. Everybody raises their glasses. “Our schedule didn’t let us to celebrate properly the birthday of our beloved maknae. Yuna we all love you.” At the end of this sentence. You start nodding hard. Yeji got quiet and looks at you. All the girls look at you too and then laugh. You blush. “Anyway…” Yeji continues. “Apparently everyone gathered here LOVES you Yuna. Happy Birthday.”

The girls take turns to hug Yuna. First Yeji, then Ryujin. You notice that everyone gets closer and say a few words in Yuna’s ear. When is your turn you gather all the courage in your body and swallow the nervousness and try to look cool.  You hug her and whisper in her ear. “Is true indeed that everybody here loves you. Happy birthday. I wish you have a good time tonight.” She grins and whispers in your ear. “Well, you can help me to have a good time tonight.”

Shit. You think. I felt her chest during that hug. And now she says this I really can’t control my excitement.

And actually, you got hard down there. While you were hoping she didn’t notice it the hug ends and she looks down like looking for something.

It seems like she felt it.

Then the girls sited around the bar and ordered drinks. You took place beneath Yuna. She leaned on you.

“Oppa…” She says and you got surprised.

“Oppa?” You ask inmediately interrupting her.

“Yes you are older than me you are my oppa, right?” She questioned.

“Well yeah I can be your oppa if you want.”

“Nice. I want to ask you something. Can i?”

“Okay. But if is something that I can’t say because of my work please don’t use your little kitten face against me. I will give in and next thing will be that I’m fired.”

She laughs. “My what?”

“Ah I named your pleading face to Yeji-shi before as ‘little kitten face’”

“Because of Shrek?” She asks.

She gets me.

“Yeah. I just love that movie. But continue. Go ahead”

She continues “Anyway I’m not going to ask you something difficult, oppa. I just want to know what should I drink? I don’t have too much experience with that.”

“You are 19 now, right? What have you drinked before? and what did you like or not?”

“Well obviously soju. At first, I didn’t like it. But then I was into that. But tonight, I want something fancier.”

“You are lucky. As this is diplomat’s party. I think this bar has international beverage too. Have you heard about pisco?”

“What?! What is that?”

“Is alcohol is made from grapes: the green ones. And well is nice when you drink it with lemon and other stuff. The beverage is called pisco sour.”

“Well why not. Today I’m celebrating my birthday. If I pretend today is my birthday. This is my first time having 20 years. So today is the day of first times!”

“That’s the attitude!”

“Two pisco sours, please.” You ask to the bartender.

The bartender hands you two glasses. And you hand one to Yuna.  

She sips. “This is like lemonade, right? Just at the end I can taste some alcohol. Is not that strong.”

You nod. “So did you like it?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Answers, Yuna.

5

A couple of glasses later you and Yuna are talking.

“You know what?” You start “I think diplomat’s life and idol’s life have something in common.”

“Why do you think that?” Asks Yuna.

“Well, your life is kind of controlled by someone: your company. In my case the embassy. I’m living here in this country just to work. And also, our opinions can’t be radical. Do you remember that time where Tzuyu waved her flag? The… Taiwanese flag?” Yuna nods. You continue “She apologized then. That means that no idol can give political opinions, right? Well, I can’t neither. I can’t say Taiwan is a country or say what I think about any president or government out loud.”

“Well… Yeah, It makes sense. So, you can’t hang out at parties too?”

You are so into this subject. “Well, if something happens like a drunk fight or something like that. I’m fucked up. Because in the headline will appear ‘The diplomat of this country got drunk and…’”

Suddenly Ryujin hugs you from behind and asks you. “Hey, since when Yuna is your bias? Have you fapped to her photos?”

You blush and start stuttering. “I-I-I D-d-d-didn’t do that!”

Ryujin laughs. “Mr. diplomat knows how to be cute!” She pinches your cheek. Then she says looking at Yuna. “Hey if you don’t achieve nothing with him. I’ll ask his number.”

Yuna hit Ryujin’s arms. “Ryujin-yaaaaa.”

You look at Yuna. “Achieve something?” You ask.

Yuna blushes a little bit. “Well did you remember before when we were walking to the bar? When you were… mmmm… looking my ass?”

You almost spit the pisco sour. Ryujin laughs. “It seems like Mr. Diplomat likes to stare asses. Did you peak mine too?”

Fuck Ryujin is so straight when she talks. This can’t be a mess. You must apologize. You think.

“Ammm… I do. Sorry.” You apologize.

“So who has the best one?” Ryujin asks you.

This brat knows how to make you nervous.

“Y-y-y-yuna” You answer stuttering.

“Well, I give up, Yuna. Mr. Diplomat is in love with you. I don’t get him. Everybody’s favorite is my ass or Chae. I’m leaving it to you.” Ryujin says while walks out to join the other members.

“Really?” Asks Yuna looking at you.

“Yeah. You are my favorite in everything! My ultimate bias.” You shout.

Fuck. It seems I’m really drunk.

Yuna stares at you and doesn’t say anything.

You blew up. She probably isn’t looking for a fanboy. You shouldn’t have drunk too much.

But she caught your arm and walks with you. You just follow her. “What happened, Yuna?” You ask.

She looks at you and keeps walking. “Today is the day of first times.”

She is leading you to the bathroom. She enters and locks the door.

You are in disguise. What to do now is pretty obvious but is Yuna so you are doubtful.

Before you decide anything Yuna kisses you.

Fuck. Is the best kiss you ever had. So this is how it feels when you kiss someone you really really like. Is like an explosion. Like there was nothing and then a big bang.

The kiss breaks. “Did you like it?” Asks Yuna.

You don’t answer just kiss her again. The sensation is something different. Like you can be here forever. But the night was just starting.

Yuna starts touching your back while kissing you. Then your chest. Your neck. She stops. “You don’t want to touch me?” She looks directly in your eyes.

“No, no. Is not that. Is just I didn’t want to ruin the kiss.” You say.

“Oppa. You know what are we doing next, right? I know you are not so innocent!” She says. And starts kissing you again.

Now you touch her. Her neck, her back you go down. Her delicious ass is being groped by your hands. You lean her closer to you by pressing her butt.  

You start kissing her neck. “Yuna. You are so beautiful and cute. Your mouth, your face, your ass.” You press your hands in her butt harder. She just moans “Mmmmmm….” But then she speaks. “I can feel your dick poking my abs. Just like before when you hugged me.”

You press her butt stronger. So, she can feel it more. Then you lift her up by grabbing her legs and kiss her neck again. “Mmm… I want to see your tits, Yuna.” While being in the air she manages to take off her blouse. You see her lingerie and anxiously you start kissing around her tits. While she is trying to untie her bra. Finally, you receive in your view her heavenly boobs. Her nipples are totally pink and are like inviting you to suck them.

This is the best feast I’ve ever had.

You kiss and lick her tits while the only response from Yuna is “Mmmm.” When you left her legs touch the ground, she kisses you again and she kisses your neck this time. Now she is trying to get your formal shirt off. You start undressing yourself. She kisses your neck and starts going down till she is in front of your crotch. She is in her knees.

“Mmmm… I want to know if you are a big fan as you said.” She touches your crotch. And starts undressing your pants. Then she just puts down your boxers.

Your dick is hard as never was. When she puts down your boxers your cock jump off and slaps Yuna’s face. She looks at you and then stares your cock.

“It looks that you were right. You are the biggest”

Then she starts stroking. You just moan.

“I thought you said it was first times’ day.”

“Yes oppa. This is my first time with a foreign guy and my first time sucking cock big like yours”

She starts licking the tip of your cock.

“Oppa I’m starting to doubt if this can fit in my mouth.”

“Let’s find out.” You say. She nods and starts putting it in her mouth.

First the tip and then she tries to push deeper. Her mouth is full but there is plenty of dick left. She starts moving. You can’t deny that you had better heads before. But… She looks at you while sucking you. Then you are aware again that the one sucking you off is Itzy’s Yuna. So, you start to feel better. Fuck you could say that you are even about to cum. You caught her head with your hands and start pushing.

“Fuck Yuna. I can feel your throat!”

She just says “Mmmm mmmm” as she can’t talk.

“I’m going to cum. Fuck. Fuck.”

You start cumming and you relax the grip on her head. And she frees. Some of the cum goes in her face.

“Mmmm… You are rough, oppa. I like that.” She picks some toilet paper of the bathroom to clean her face. “But you know what this is only starting. I want that big thing inside me now.”

She starts unbuckling her pants and puts it down and also her underwear at the same time. She has a shaved cute pussy and is already wet.

“Oppa, fuck me.” She says and then she bends and you have a total view of her ass. That beloved ass.

“You want me to fuck you?” You spank her.

“Aah. Yes, oppa. Fuck me with your cock!”

You grin and start to play with your dick around her pussy. “Oppa, just fuck me already!” She says.

You put your cock inside her. And you feel tightness. You haven’t feel something like this before. “Yuna you are so tight!” You say. And try to go deeper. “Fuck Yuna really I’m not lying you are too tight!”

“Mmmm… No oppa is just that you are too big. Just keep going. Mmmm…”

You start going deeper in a slow pace. Finally, you get to get your full dick inside. Yuna is moaning already. “Yuna, prepare yourself”

“Whaaaaaaa… aaah… mmm… mmm” She starts moaning. You are slamming her in a rapid pace. And then she says “Cumming aaaah” You don’t slow down. And then she shouts again moaning again but this time her legs start to shake. But you don’t slow down.

Fuck you’ d love to see Yuna’s cumming face. But right now in exchange you have a full view of her cute butt and her pussy while your cock enters and disappears. She is moaning so hard.

“Aaaaah… Oppa. I love how you fuck me. You are really deep into me.” She says.

And is true is almost like your tip is kissing her womb. This tightness is almost like her walls are never letting you go. Like their insides are sucking you up. Is this heaven? The pleasure right now is out of this world.

While dreaming off, it happens you cum inside her. Fuck you really fast up the pace because now you are out of breath. Yuna stands up looks at you smiles and kisses you. “That was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. And really orgasms because it happened multiple times” Yuna says. “You are special and fuck you cummed so much”. At the moment white liquid starts to drip from her crotch.

Suddenly the door sounds. There are lots of knock knock and then a voice: “Yuna we need to leave now. They found out about the manager bribed. We will be waiting for you on the car outside.”

You look to Yuna. And she starts explaining. “Have you heard anytime about Itzy joining a party where they were having a show. Or have happened ever that the last entertainment show joins the party in your diplomat events?”

“Well… Being honest I never heard of that. And that never happened. I don’t remember that the fat lady singer ever joined the party after her show.”

“Yeah. That’s what’s normal. But we bribed our manager to tell JYP we were already at the dorm and we sneaked into the party.”

“So you weren’t invited to the party? And wait did you lie to Jyp?” You ask.

While this conversation was made Yuna started dressing up. As you see it you start looking for your clothes too.

Yuna answers “Yeah, that’s why we were just in the bar. I mean we didn’t want to catch too much attention. And also, we were with our stage clothes if we were invited, we probably were wearing some fancy dresses or something like that. And yeah, we lied to Jyp. He is nice but sometimes he is just a pain in the ass. You know if it was for him, I��ll be virgin even now.”

“Well yeah if you had gone to the main saloon, you probably had caught more attention. Then I must be really thankful for that bribe because if that wasn’t happened, this wasn’t happened.”

“Yes, oppa. And also, is thanks to Yeji. When you looked my ass, I was asking Yeji if I can be with you and she nodded. But sadly, I must say bye now. I really want to have another meeting with you and that big thing of yours.” She kisses you and continues. “and maybe we can try other things. You know Ryujin says that anal sex is way better than normal sex. But I don’t know maybe I need to experience it by first hand.” She hands you a piece of paper.

“Is your number?” You ask like pleading.

“Aww you can be a cutie pie too. Yes, it is. I must be going. Is better if I leave alone. Wait inside here and after a couple minutes leave. Ok?” She says.

“Yes. I’ll be expecting our next meeting.”

“Me too.” She kisses you and then leaves the bathroom.

That actually happened. You think. I had sex with my ultimate bias.

And now you remember all the things the view of her precious ass. Her eyes while she was sucking you off. The taste of her lips. Her essence. Her ass in your palms. Her surprised eyes when she saw your cock. The sensation of his tongue in your cock and her throat.

The sound of your phone wakes you up. Some text messages.

“Hey Oppa is Yuna. It seems like you weren’t the only diplomat getting fun. Ryujin also had fun with an argentinian diplomat. And he knows you, so the girls and I got his number and yours. Let’s have another meeting soon”

You smile. What is even better that you fucking your bias from Itzy is that your friend could do it too and maybe he even had anal sex with Ryujin. It seems that this kind of parties are not so bad.

[crguang]

somethin’ bout those tears of yours… how does it feel to be adored?

Shrieks or symphony? They’re all the same to her. However, your cries will always sound better than any orchestra.

warnings: smut, finger fucking, kafka eating pussy like i know she can, afab!reader, dom!kafka (duh), dacryphilia (thats the whole point of this if im honest)

wc: 3,2K

A/N: wow guys um. this didn’t go as planned but im not really complaining, i never write smut so i dont know whats going on but enjoy nonetheless

As eloquent as Kafka is, she can’t seem to be able to put into words why the sight of your shiny eyes and pouty lips moves her so.

It’s not so much a feeling of pity they rouse as a sort of pleasure that courses through her like rain seeping into clothes. It’s a soft delight, the kind she recognizes as when she closes her eyes and lets the high notes of a violin fill her senses. Emotion twisting your features is like a carefully building crescendo— first come the furrowed brows, then the scrunch of your pretty nose and the tremble in your lips, and finally, big, fat glassy tears running along your full cheeks. The melody reaches its climax as your eyes meet hers, the dulcet tones of your poorly contained cries bringing forth something Kafka’s never found in another person. It’s a sadistic sort of pleasure to experience, perhaps, not that she’d ever care about the gaps in her morality.

She particularly enjoys the gloss in your gaze when she’s between your slick thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Kafka sometimes rolls her eyes at how easily you are taken by emotion—she’s almost certain it’s a facade, it has to be— and thinks you’re working in the wrong business, but she can’t complain when you’re such a pretty crier. Like a loyal dog, she makes your wants happen regardless of whether you find the courage to utter them. Your jaw clenches in anger after a rude interaction with a stranger, and Kafka threatens him in an alley. Her finger’s always been loose on the trigger. Your hand trails down her bicep in that purposeful way that lets her know you want her, and Kafka buries her nose in your cunt until tears cloud your vision and you’re firmly pulling her mouth away with a hand in her hair. She takes in a breath, lips parted and coated in arousal, as she revels in the way your chest stutters and your wet eyelashes flutter. You’re at your prettiest like this; bare, sweaty, pliable under her steady hands. What a sight it makes.

Kafka sighs lustfully, a palm against her cheek as she lets the thoughts dissipate. You haven’t noticed her stare yet, too preoccupied by your argument with Silver Wolf to spare her a glance. She doesn’t care to listen in and instead waits until the heated debate inevitably has you stomping towards her with an irritated pout. Your arms cross over your chest and the crease between your brows deepens when you plant yourself in front of her.

“This girl will argue over anything.”

Kafka’s usual smile doesn’t faze you, nor does the way her fingertips linger on your skin when she pushes strands of hair out of your face. She only hums in acknowledgment. Your nose bridge is crinkled in frustration, as is the corner of your eyes, and it’s almost enough to hear the familiar symphony that sounds between her ears. If Kafka were to psychoanalyze her every thought, she’d have wondered if witnessing strong emotional responses fascinates her because she doesn’t have any. People attract what they lack, do they not? It would explain the shiver that caresses her spine when she’s face to face with a pleading victim. Her pupils grow twice in size to take in as much of the scene as possible, and she lets violins and cellos reach their crescendo in her mind until death descends and everything stops. The following silence brings satisfaction, a fitting end to a beautiful symphony.

Silver Wolf passes by the two of you with her eyes glued to her phone screen and mutters a mocking comment she intends for you to hear. You grit your teeth. The whole thing’s pretty childish and certainly unserious, but you both have strong opinions on what constitutes a good video game, apparently.

“She likes to rile you up,” Kafka grips your chin with three fingers and turns you back toward her. “Don’t mind her.”

“I’m not letting myself be bullied by a girl who can’t reach the highest cupboard without a chair,” you say the last part loud enough for Silver Wolf to give you the middle finger as she walks away.

With the source of your frustration gone, your muscles relax bit by bit until you’re sighing and running a hand down your face.

“I need some air.”

Kafka fetches your coat.

You’ve forgotten the entire ordeal when you and Kafka step outside of a clothing store, a spring in your step that appeared after the two of you spent half an hour looking at leather jackets. You ended up buying one for yourself after Kafka’s extensive comments and suggestions. The paper bag sways as you walk through the busy streets of an unfamiliar city. You’ve never been to this planet before, everything was a sight you wished you could stop and admire for more than a few minutes but being a Stellaron Hunter didn’t come with vacations. You were here on a job and would be leaving in two days, according to Elio’s script. The first part is done, the second takes place tomorrow, which allows you a moment of reprieve to simply wander around this strange city. Your sense of orientation and perception is excellent but you let Kafka lead you through bustling markets and tight alleys to get back to the base. She doesn’t say it but you know this wide detour is a way for you to take in as much of the city as you can, so you pretend not to see the man hurriedly making his way towards you and let him push you closer to her in order to grab her hand, effectively steadying you. Neither of you lets go the whole walk home.

The place is quiet when you make it back two hours later. Silver Wolf is probably curled up in a corner with a game and the others are nowhere to be seen. You waste no time in pulling out the jacket and discarding the bag once in the living area, taking off your current coat to shrug the new one on. Kafka takes a seat on a couch, one leg over the other, her chin in the palm of her hand as she watches you.

You carefully adjust the collar and tug on the jacket so it fits perfectly, then turn towards her.

“So? Does it look as good on me as you said it would?”

The corner of Kafka’s mouth lifts as she replies, “Hm… Swirl a little for me.”

You turn a few times, allowing her to see every angle. You zip it all the way up but decide you like the look better when the jacket is open. You even take some steps to and fro, delighting in the way Kafka’s usually blank gaze diligently follows your movements.

“Yes,” she finally says after a moment, “you definitely make it work.”

“Yeah? You’d pick me up from a bar?”

There’s a playful tilt to your voice when the question leaves your lips. Kafka’s smile widens. Her eyes lazily trail down your figure, then back up to your face. She leans back into the couch and tilts her head slightly to the side, fixing you with a level stare.

“I would.”

You hum in thought as you step close enough to settle on her lap, knees on each side of her hips. Kafka doesn’t move when your hands clasp around her neck. You see the amused twitch of her lips, though.

“Do you think I’d look super mysterious so you’d approach me to see what my deal is?”

“No. You’re too expressive to be mysterious.”

That answer makes your brows furrow and your nostrils flare.

“Just like that,” Kafka teases.

You roll your eyes. “So you’d only approach me for my looks? How romantic of you.”

“I’m not trying to be romantic. But,” a gloved hand sneaks under your shirt, fingers splayed out over the expanse of your back as they trace the bones of your spinal cord, “I could show you a very good time.”

“Oh, really?” You watch her peach lips when she speaks, absentmindedly leaning closer.

She hums in agreement. Her free hand comes to rest on your waist while the other leisurely wanders up and down your back. Her gloves are thin and the fabric feels expensive against your bare skin. You don’t notice how close you’ve gotten until you look up to see Kafka’s lidded eyes fixed on yours. A shiver runs through you when the pad of her fingers reaches your nape.

“You’d leave with me, wouldn’t you?” She asks with a low drawl to her words.

Kafka’s pleasure in asking questions she already knows the answers to is lost on you. She revels in making you admit things you’d otherwise keep to yourself in an attempt to fluster you, and loves watching you fight with yourself while thinking of a response. Surprising her is no easy feat but is always a treat.

“Maybe.” You say simply.

“Maybe? I’m offended.”

“You’ll live.”

“Hm. Perhaps I should be more convincing, then.”

Her chin tilts upwards and your eyes close to await a kiss that never comes. You feel Kafka’s steady breath on your lips for a moment before she leans back and raises an amused eyebrow at you. There’s a crease between your brows when you meet her teasing gaze.

“What? Were you expecting something?”

You decide to play her game and jut out your bottom lip in a petulant pout. Her lenses don’t hide the way her eyes catch the movement.

“Are you saying you’re not going to kiss me?” You whine a little, pulling her closer by the back of her neck.

The hand that was on your waist lifts to take hold of your chin. Kafka swipes her thumb over your bottom lip.

“Is that what you want?”

The cocky smile painting her face annoys you, but you know that she’ll give you what you want. She always gives you what you want. You nod, and as your lashes flutter you can tell the exact moment she realizes your submission is an act. A low chuckle leaves her, the hand on your back trails up to close around your nape in a forceful grip, and she harshly pulls you to her until your mouth crashes on hers. It’s a rough and hurried kiss; you feel her tongue push past your lips as you try to match her pace. Kafka keeps you where you are with only a hand and forces you to follow her lead, a clear reminder of who’s in charge between the two of you. Your guts tighten as she kisses you long enough that you have to exhale sharply through your nose to avoid getting dizzy. Her tongue explores your mouth like it already knows where everything is and swirls around yours in a way that has you arching against her.

You recognize the look in Kafka’s eyes when she suddenly pulls away, bottom lip shining with saliva. You’re sure she can feel your heartbeat sending ripples through your chest with how close it is to hers. An unapologetic smile makes its way onto your face. You take great pleasure in knowing she’ll make you regret your blatant manipulation.

Frustration builds inside you at the same unhurried pace as Kafka’s single digit plunging into your cunt. Her lips ignore your clit as they plant wet kisses to your slick folds, her tongue occasionally dipping between them with strokes far too light for your liking. It’s been half an hour and Kafka’s still between your thighs, savoring the taste of your arousal with no care for your release. Her gloved finger feels good against your walls and the wet sounds it makes as she thrusts it inside you only turns you on more, but it’s not nearly enough to make you come. Your wrists tug on their restraints— the glowing pink silk keeps them above your head on the mattress, unable to move. You tilt your head to the ceiling and groan for the hundredth time.

“Kafka, come on…” Your whine is real this time as you look down at her figure between your legs.

Kafka only hums over your twitching clit, then deserts it completely and raises her head to meet your eyes. Arousal stains her mouth, giving it a pretty sheen like the one on her favorite coat. Her finger opts for a massage and rubs your clenching walls as your lips part to let out another pained whine. Kafka watches the way your hips greedily chase your release, bucking towards her appreciative mouth.

A breathy moan breaks your pout when her tongue licks a long stripe up your slit. It’s warm and wet against you, and it sends pleasant shivers down your spine every time it makes contact with your needy cunt. Kafka takes her time tasting you and it’s in moments like these where you curse her patience. She has no issue working you up for hours because she knows the end results will be satisfactory, so she turns a deaf ear to your complaints and pleas. There’s a coil in your belly begging to burst and you can’t do anything but try to get Kafka to care.

“Please? Give me more…”

Kafka’s lips abandon your folds with a wet sound. She sighs exaggeratingly and adjusts herself between your thighs so she’s kneeling, then holds you down with a hand on your hip.

“So noisy,” she says, a glint in the depths of her eyes that you’re not sure you like. “Don’t make me shut you up.”

“Don’t be mean.” You groan in frustration when her finger completely stops moving inside you. “Come on.”

“Mean?” Kafka repeats, a slow smile spreading across her lips. “Fine.”

She plunges three fingers inside your waiting cunt at once, hard and fast, and the sudden intrusion has you choking out a surprised moan.

“W—Wait—“

You don’t have time to adjust to the stretch, she doesn’t let you. The next breath gets caught in your throat as her fingers drive inside you with a speed you’re not accustomed to, effectively shutting you up. She brings her other hand to press rough circles on your clit, forcing the sensations to overwhelm you completely. Your hips stutter. It feels good beyond the initial shock, great, and you’re still huffing out short gasps while you eagerly take in her digits. Your vision blurs at the edges. You can still make out Kafka’s intense gaze on your face, drinking in your expression like the sight alone could make her come.

Once you get used to the rhythm, moving against her hand and sighing in relief, Kafka stops entirely. You struggle to let out a pained noise as her fingers leave your cunt at once before you even have time to beg.

“No,” you whine, “please…”

You’re getting irritated and desperate, the feeling curls around your throat and threatens to spill in an embarrassing sob. You swallow it as Kafka slips two fingers past her lips. She suckles on them while you try to control your breathing, taking longer breaths and willing your heart to slow down lest it bursts. The digits come out wet with a mix of saliva and arousal. She spreads them apart to see the sticky string that connects them, before bringing them down to smear it over your sex in a teasing manner.

You exhale sharply when her thumb swipes over your clit a few times, not enough to build your orgasm back up despite the pleasure it brings. You tug on your restraints a second time and feel humiliated when Kafka only watches you with lidded eyes and a happy smile. You know what she’s after, what she wants from you. It’s the only way you can get her to fuck you like she means it, so you take another deep, shaky breath and keep quiet.

“Oh…?” Kafka’s middle finger circles your entrance when she witnesses your resolve. She doesn’t say another word, simply pushes it inside in slow thrusts.

You bite into the flesh of your cheek as her thumb massages the base of your clit then teases the tip. Your chest heaves but you’re determined not to make a sound. She masturbates you the way she wants to; circles your pulsing clit, slides a forefinger between your slick folds, watches the way her middle one disappears inside your cunt as if swallowed. You take it like she wants you to, also, because she’s the only one who can push you over the edge. When you least expect it, Kafka thrusts three fingers inside you at the same pace as earlier, knocking the wind out of you until you’re a moaning mess. With every sharp thrust and the pressure on your clit, you get closer to your release. Then she stops, drastically slows down to a mere massage that has your nose scrunching up and your lips trembling. A lump forms in your throat after she denies you for the third time.

She plays you like a string instrument, denies you relief she knows you crave, until your brows twist in that pretty, familiar way and she hears the bright, crisp tones of a melody meant for her ears only. Her lips part and the pupils beneath her lenses swallow the pink of her irises. She stills, muscles taut, senses attuned to every crease of your skin and quiver of your features. You take in a shuddering breath through your mouth, your eyes screwed shut in frustration and need and finally, you cry. Fat tears spill from the corner of your eyes and slide down your skin into your ears. Kafka’s reaction is instant. Her fingers drill into you, fast, rough, unrelenting. She moves to hover over you as your orgasm builds in your belly and reverently kisses your tears as they escape your eyes. Her mouth is gentle while her fingers are not; there’s a distinct ringing inside her head when the sound of your whimpers hits her ears and the salt of your tears coats her lips. It’s as she feels your cunt squeeze tight around her fingers while she softly shushes you that Kafka realizes something else.

You come with a broken cry, pleasure coursing through your body like a sudden shock as the coil in your stomach finally bursts. Kafka tears herself away from your glistening face to watch how you gush over her fingers and ruin the sheets under you. The sticky mess makes her own cunt clench, she particularly enjoys how messy things can get during sex. Her silk glove is positively dirty, the material gleams in the light and is thick with your arousal when she takes her fingers out of you.

You’re coming down from your high with your nose buried in Kafka’s neck, and occasional sniffles can be heard as her cleanest hand strokes your hair. This feeling she’s become familiar with suddenly has a name, it swirls around her ribs and snakes under the sturdy walls of her heart. Kafka doesn’t need to be eloquent to know that she adores you. She adores you especially when she makes you cry because she can soothe it all away afterwards.

[kugokizs]

LOWKEY | G. SUGURU (m)

It’s not easy to find a flaw within Suguru.

It's unarguable that he remains to be good at everything he does, and he’s never once done anything without putting in effort. His grades, his sports, his love life– whenever he actually wanted someone for them and not for what they could offer him. In the bedroom or otherwise.

GENRE: pwp; friends to lovers

PAIRING: suguru x afab!reader

WARNINGS: a bit of pining, friends to lovers, a game of seven minutes in heaven, cunnilingus, blowjobs, lots of kissing, inner turmoil, perfect suguru, non-evil suguru, oral sex, idek remember what else but nothing triggering!

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

A/N: It’s been so long since i’ve written literally anything so I hope you enjoy this! it’s constant suguru brain rot over here.

NOW PLAYING: sorrows by bryson tiller, lowkey by rochelle jordan, teenage fever by drake, and all night long by thuy.

It’s not easy to find a flaw within Suguru.

It's unarguable that he remains to be good at everything he does, and he’s never once done anything without putting in effort. His grades, his sports, his love life– whenever he actually wanted someone for them and not for what they could offer him. In the bedroom or otherwise.

He always remained calm in stressful situations, often laughing things off whenever they got too serious. He’s always been able to view things with a clear head. You don’t think you’d ever seen a vengeful bone in his body, and whether that made him perfect you don’t know, but you know you admired him for his composure. That even when things were going terribly he still kept his head up as if nothing happened.

Since you’ve known him, Suguru has always been able to command the attention of a room and everyone in it. As soon as he walked in any door, heads would turn and eyes would glue themselves to him– assessing for themselves who Getou Suguru was, and trying desperately to see through him. From experience, it’s almost like the lights shine brighter, the music gets louder, and the people get happier every time Suguru is in proximity.

Since you’ve known him, you’ve always found Suguru to be perfect. His perfect laugh, his perfect eyes, his perfect lips, perfect tongue, perfect hands — since you’ve met him you’ve harbored a big fat crush on him and everything he is. It was easy to fall for him, almost as easy as tying your shoes or brushing your teeth. It was fun, finding new hidden things about him, growing closer to him, making him smile.

It was clear you were too far gone when even the line of girls coming to and from his room wasn’t enough to deter you. When you’d have an earful about his dick game at every friend hangout, when you’d watch another girl get starry-eyed at him, staring from across the room and twirling their hair in the same manner you would have if you were the most obvious person alive, and you still wanted him.

The room is packed, warm bodies thronged together, wrapping around each other and merging with one another. Your eyes scan the room, never settling on one face too long, and you cringe each time someone’s sweaty shirt sticks to your skin or wet arm grazes against yours. You’ve gotten used to these parties, to how loud they always are, how full and cramped, yet you never seem to get any more comfortable.

No one pays you much attention, finding dancing and drinking a lot more interesting than you moping around in a corner. You blend into the darkened room, you’re not in the spotlight, no one really cares what you do, and it’s comforting in a place that’s everything but. You cradle a drink in your hands, sighing at the barely there breeze floating in through the window, and finally drop your gaze down on Suguru's figure across the room. His arms stretch white fabric, pulling the material taught over tanned skin. His grins are lazy but full of mirth, and his laughs seem to carry across the room even over the loud music. It’s impossible to tear your eyes away.

You watch with a trained gaze as one of the girls from your design class wrap a hand around his shoulder and drag their fingernails along the material of his shirt, laughing breathily at everything he says. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. God, you really do like him, but you can’t imagine being that pathetic for a sliver of his attention. Not that you really need to, anyway, because Suguru is your best friend. When he turns his head, his eyes immediately find yours and you’d bother to look away if he wasn’t already grinning, a gleeful and mischievous thing that lets you know whatever idea he has is gonna make you miserable.

You shake your head before he can say anything, and he abandons his game to walk over to your designated spot in the corner, a smile stuck on his face as he does.

“No!” You call over the thumping music, your head shaking furiously in tandem to the rhythm of the song playing in the background. In your peripheral, hips swing back and forth to the heavy bass, everyone is all smiles, breathy laughs, and hooded eyes.

“Come play with us,” Suguru yells, bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat and mouth open in a sexy but disgusting way. His breath glosses over your skin — he’s that close — and his eyes stare down at you with something that vaguely resembles pity. Of course he’d be the only one to register that you’re standing in a corner, alone, at a party.

“I don’t like games.” You sigh, deciding to look everywhere else but at Suguru, the one person you’ve been dying to spot since you got there earlier that night. This is the best chance to stare, but it’s hard to make eye contact with him. To look at him while he stares back.

“It’ll be fun. Please? Do it for me. Satoru is over there too.”

Shit. This again?

“So what if ‘Satoru’ is over there?” You groan, rolling your eyes and finally looking back at Suguru– even if it’s only to settle him with a heavy glare.

Suguru has somehow gotten the impression that you like Satoru. Campus pretty boy, good at everything, has everyone wrapped around his finger, and 100% not your type. You don’t know what made him come to the conclusion that you’ve got a soft spot for him or why he’s so persistent in that narrative after you’ve expressed so many times that you don’t, but it’s starting to get annoying. Stop being so blind, Suguru.

“Alright, alright,” He sighs, “Just come over.”

You’re silent for another moment before whining in defeat, leaning off the wall and towards Suguru instead. It’s hard to say no to him, and though his prideful laugh makes you want to say never mind and go back to your spot against the wall, your legs keep moving forwards, swerving between couples and squeezing between groups of sweaty and intoxicated friends. The air is warm, heavy, and the drink in your hand glides down your throat like water — smooth and refreshing. It fills you with a foreign confidence and determination that allows you to make your way to the group with a smile on your face that doesn’t resemble a grimace.

“So,” Suguru starts, clapping his hands together. “We’re either gonna play seven minutes in heaven, truth or dare, or never have I ever.”

A chorus of groans sound together, and Suguru rolls his eyes, makes that shy grin he always does when he’s embarrassed. It’s so fucking cute you can’t take it. “Shut up.” He grumbles and you can’t help the lovesick smile that forms without your permission. “What else are we gonna play?”

The group circles around the table, looking at each other with eyebrows raised, but after a moment of silence (or as silent as it can possibly be at a party) it’s decided that those are the only games available at the moment. Suguru nods his head towards the stairs, something small and cute and satisfied, and the mini group makes their way upwards — looking like the beginning of an orgy. You chuckle to yourself at the imagery even though you’d never actually want to join if they ever did… that. You’re not sure they haven’t done that, the entire group — consisting of Suguru’s friends, Satoru, Toji, and Choso, and with their just as promiscuous female counterparts Jieun, Sara, and Seoyoon. Along with the guys, the girls ran through partners like cash, never stopping long enough to know more about them than their first name and their dick game.

As you file into a line in order for the lot of you to fit up the stairway, Suguru shuffles behind you— one arm wrapping around your shoulders and waist pressed against your backside. His warmth seeps through your clothes, and it almost feels like you’re both bare, skin to skin. Your breath hitches just barely, and you quicken your pace, flitting up the stairs as if there was fire licking your heels. Suguru’s arm is dislodged from your shoulder with your movement, and it almost feels like you’ve been robbed of a large teddy bear coat or your own personal heater. Your arms wrap around yourself as if to replicate the feeling, and you shuffle in the room behind Choso, Suguru closing the door behind you both.

The light is dimmer in this room, a bedroom– one of many– and the girls waste no time plopping on the bed, Sara grabbing your arm to pull you closer, patting the spot next to her and motioning for you to sit. The mattress caves in when you do, soft memory foam encasing you and making you feel as if you’re melting, drowning in fabric. The guys stand at the opposite end of the room, drinks in hand, and it really does start to feel like the beginning of a porno. You smooth your hands over your jeans, desperate to save face and not let your lips curl into the awkward grimace they so graciously deserve, when Choso takes one last swig of his beer and places it on the floor between you– the girls on one side and the boys on the other.

“I’ll take the first spin,” Choso smiles, squatting down and pinching the bottle between his fingers.

‘Wait,” Satoru interjects, floppy bang covering his eyes and full lips glistening somehow in the dim room, his button-up shirt hanging open just slightly, the first two buttons left open either for sex appeal or for the remnants of a breeze, but you can’t deny the way your eyes linger all the same. Beads of sweat run down a toned, tan chest, and the way his lips form the words– you look away just before the glob of drool gets a chance to escape your parted lips. Coincidentally, they jet in Suguru’s direction, meeting a pair of eyes that are already piercing into your own. Suguru’s jaw is tight, and even when your eyes meet his, they don’t move, staring into you as if you’ve done something wrong. You swallow, looking down at the carpet and the shoes toeing into the fabric of it. “What game are we playing?” Satoru continues, setting his cup down on the nightstand and kneeling next to Choso.

“Seven minutes?” Toji suggests, kicking off his shoes and leaning his head back against the wall. “I got an idea of who I’d like to get stuck with.”

Bold. Sara shifts next to you, a small grin showing on her face for a split second. Ew.

“Yeah,” Suguru agrees, “So do I.”

Ouch.

Whatever. You bring your knees up onto the bed, getting comfortable as the guys abandon their drinks. “Ready?” Choso asks, gazing upwards from his place on the floor as he twists the bottle.

“Ready,” the group responds in unison, followed by giggles. The bottle spins, grazing against the carpet as it slows. One end on Satoru, the other end on Seoyoon. God, it wasn’t close at all– Seoyoon is on the total opposite end of the bed, but your heart still races, beating loudly in your chest with the anticipation of it all. There’s an even number, someone will end up with someone, the question is who are you gonna end up with and what the hell are you both gonna do? The bottle spins again. Toji and Sara. Lucky. The other couple still isn’t back yet, and there’s only four of you left. This last spin determines the rest of the pairings.

It seems like the glass moves slowest this time, as if the entire thing is in slow motion. Your eyes don’t leave the bottle for even a second, and when it stops in front of you you’re scared to see who’s on the opposite end.

“Suguru!” Jieun screeches, standing up and then grabbing Choso’s arm.

Wait what. Your head snaps up, wide eyes meeting your own. Wait WHAT!? Your hands and legs shake as you stand up from the bed. Jerky and unsure movements make you look clumsy, but it’s only you and Suguru left. You can barely get a word out, mouth open and gaping like a fish, still stuck on Jieun’s confusing words. Suguru finally looks away from you, and makes his way to the door.

Oh ok. So he’s gonna leave. You can both just lie and say you did something, or come clean and say you did nothing, but you didn’t expect him to leave just like that. You guess he didn’t get the person he had in mind. Except— he doesn’t leave, and the click of the lock makes your back straighten and your eyebrows raise.

“What…” You finally whisper, your mind finally at its end. “Why would you lock the door?”

“Because… if you’ll let me, I’d spend more than 7 minutes on you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and turning your head away so that he can’t see the small smile playing on your lips. It was so corny, but you loved it. It’s the typical romance between college students, confessing that yes, they’d like to have sex with you, and honestly, it brought a delightful pang to your chest.

“Doing what?” You laugh, backing up so that the back of your knees hit the soft mattress. You don’t want to look into this more than you should. More than you’re allowed. Suguru takes a step closer, apprehensive in everything but his movements, except he becomes more and more comfortable when he realizes you aren’t moving away. You too are apprehensive, scared, but most of all you’re curious. Curious to see what he does, to see what this means.

“I’ve been waiting for a chance like this for too long.” He chuckles but the laugh doesn’t reach his eyes. And, in a matter of seconds, he’s devouring you until you’re left breathless, your lips swollen and wet. His mouth moves along the sensitive parts of your neck, down the line of your throat, while his other hand separates from your own to run down your waist and touch you where he knows you shiver with need.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

He slips his leg between your parted ones, allowing you to settle down right on top of his muscular thigh. As the kiss grows deeper, your hips begin to move, gyrating and pressing down against him. As your bodies move with one another, your pleasure continues to rise, forming from your center and spreading over your body.

You gasp, but it’s swallowed up by Suguru’s mouth all over again. You let your hands slide up the back of his loose t-shirt. Your skin is warm, and Suguru hums into your mouth when he moves closer, your chests pressing together with each movement.

You think Suguru ends up ripping the buttons of your shorts open, too desperate to waste time unbuttoning them, and you’ll probably be annoyed later—but now, you sigh, finding his urgency unfairly attractive. Suddenly, Suguru’s lips are pulled away from yours and you whine loudly, chasing after him. You succeed, biting at Suguru’s bottom lip to get him to open up again, but it doesn’t last long.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

You blink once in response before a fire ignites in your groin. The whimper that leaves your mouth fills the silent room and you almost drop down on the ground, finding that sentence way too attractive. Is this what you want? Of course it is. So you nod vigorously, after knowing what his lips feel like on yours you don’t ever want to endure another moment of them apart.

“Words, lovely,” He grins, amused by your enthusiasm.

“Yes, Yes.”

Suguru grins, you’re pushed back gently, and Suguru pecks at your lips repeatedly until you feel your back hit the soft, blanketed mattress. Then, like every girl’s wet dream, the beautiful man is grabbing your hands to hold by your head.

Suguru then proceeds to kiss the shit out of you, your lips crashing together, ravishing you until your lungs clench and a moan falls from your lips. You desperately try to avoid bucking your hips upwards into him, but fail again and again. Eventually, Suguru drags his mouth away, trailing it down your neck. You’re gasping against him, and you curl into his touch, whimpering when sharp teeth nip at you. There’s a tongue soothing the wound, sucking at the same spot, lapping over it. You can feel yourself starting to shake, whimpering more often than not, before you’re yanking your hands free from Suguru’s hold and dragging his face back up. You can feel Suguru smiling into it, chuckling just the tiniest bit, but he resumes kissing you.

He holds his gaze on yours when you fall apart, relaxing your body while the pulsing of your orgasm courses through you. He leans down into your arms right after, pressing tightly against your chest, so tight that you could feel his heartbeat pacing fast against yours. The kisses he gives you are soft and gentle, your thighs still trembling when he pulls away, pulling his gray t-shirt over his head.

The unmistakable shape of his erection that you feel brushing against your stomach lets you know just how turned on he is, and you equally so. His lips return to yours only after he has stripped himself, and your hands move from his shoulders to his chest, trailing down his naked skin, where you slide your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

No way this is happening.

You lean forward, switching positions and taking him into your hand from under his clothes. He’s heavy, full of cum, and you slide your body down so that your mouth is right against his cock. You leave a kitten lick on the underside of his shaft, feeling the veins and the way Suguru throbs. He’s a pleasant weight on your tongue and you swirl it around the tip before sucking him into your mouth.

Still with your eyes on his face, you lean closer, kissing his sensitive tip before fitting your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth again. You hear him gasp before it turns into a deep groan, sucking and licking as you take him deeper.

Suguru sighs, his hand gripping your hair and forcing you down onto him. He fucks your mouth like all you are is a toy for him to use. Every time he inches you down onto him you can feel his skin against your nose and hear the spit fucking back in your throat. Your eyes lose focus as Suguru continues to rut into you, abusing your throat like it was nothing. Your body buzzes from the sensation and you feel hot all over, allowing him to use you the way he wants. His low growl vibrates down to your core and you resist the urge to reach down and stroke your fingers to search for your own pleasure, choosing to focus on pleasing him instead.

His lips fall open with a few deep grunts escaping his soft lips, his hips moving faster as he pumps himself into your mouth. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

Your fingers dig into his thighs and you whimper around him, the vibrations from your throat making his body spasm as he nears his orgasm. You pull off of him, your lips swollen and red, slicked with spit and pre cum.

“On my face,” you rasp, your throat scratchy and hoarse. “On my face Suguru, please. I’ve been good.”

Woah, where did that come from (???)

Suguru’s movement becomes harsh as he pumps himself, his speed growing rapidly, and you see him twitching, his girth widening, before he pumps his cum onto your face with a long, drawn-out, groan.

“You are so beautiful,” he sighs, watching you take his cum into your mouth. His thumb brushes back and forth over your cheek, relishing to the way your body leans into his touch. “You have no idea how many times I wished I could take you like this, do every sinful thing I could think of until you’re screaming out my name. How much I’ve wanted to see you on your knees like this.”

All you can feel is his touch, his fingers tweaking at your nipples and his lips that keep moving down and kissing the skin of your breasts that spill over your bra. He pulls his hand, the one that has been kneading at your breasts, and trails it down. He strokes his tongue over your skin while his free hand moves lower, and lower, slipping under your shorts to find your clit.

He traces down your panties, soaked with your arousal, running over the lace and moaning at the feeling of it clinging onto you. His thumb follows the wet trail on the flimsy fabric to find your opening, hardly shielding you from his touch. He twists his hand while he continues to press his thumb in circles over your covered entrance, his fingers find your clit, and then he pinches, hard, sending you over the edge a second time and into one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had.

You squirm at the feeling of your release, his fingers slowly peel the scrap of black lace down your thighs, making a show out of it while he makes you wait. He continues to tease you, staring you down as he makes a show of peeling the fabric down your legs. You slip your feet from them as he pulls them off, and you watch him lift the lace to his face. Inhaling deeply, breathing you in. His lashes flutter, and the view of him taking you in so shamelessly makes you shudder.

He drops the fabric in the next moment, looming over you with hooded eyes, and leans down to leave a lingering kiss on your lips. He continues to kiss you as he spreads your legs apart, holding them down with heavy hands. With your pussy so wet, his fingers slide easily through your folds, and he can feel just how wet you are, but the way you clench and throb around him makes him moan deeply. His lips find your hips, then he moves down, running his mouth down your legs, taking time to trail along your thighs, your calves, your ankles, and keeping his eyes on you the whole time.

You let out a gasp at the first stroke of his tongue over your clit. Your legs lift a little, but Suguru presses them back down, keeping you in place— keeping you right where he wants you.

“Don’t move, baby, be good for me, ok?”

You can’t reply, just running a shaky hand through his hair as you cry out at the feeling of his tongue resuming its ministrations on your throbbing core. You can’t do much but moan and sigh, an incoherent mess from Suguru’s mouth. It’s funny to you, how he has you shaking from under him, building you up and then breaking you down with immense pleasure— a feeling that you can barely think around.

You hear his soft chuckle as he gives you a few more kisses with his tongue, tasting you, before he looks up again and whispers, “I’ll make sure you fall apart around me.” And he’s determined to make good of his words. His grip tightens on your thighs, as the swipes of his tongue grow more intense. He sucks at your clit, pressing his tongue against you to send you into your third orgasm.

Your hips move desperately against his face, hopeless in your need for more. Chasing pleasure with each roll of your hips and his head buried in your heat. You spasm, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as you cum, soaking his tongue with your release and closing him in with your thighs. He doesn’t stop, sucking your clit in his mouth and using his tongue to lap up every bit of your orgasm. You cry out in protest, your body squirming away from his touch as instinct but the grip on your thighs doesn’t let up.

“Suguru please, oh god.”

His chest shakes with a chuckle, rising up and slotting himself between your thighs. You want him, more than anything, no matter what. He kisses the corner of your lips, smiling against your mouth. As he continues to litter kisses against your skin, he presses his cock against your clit, rubbing his hard length up and down your pussy, coating himself with your arousal. The next time he pulls himself back from you, he only does it briefly— and when he pushes himself back it’s with a thrust into you hard and fast, nearly bringing you to another orgasm despite you coming down from your third.

Your thoughts leave you as he continues to move in and out of you, filling you up and satisfying you the way he always does, except now it's in a different way. Your walls contract as he slams into you deeper, lifting your legs and situating them against his shoulders. He buries himself so deep inside it’s almost like he’s melded himself into you. He’s so big, you can barely breathe, allowing him to bring pleasure to you both as he moves.

He moans, his voice raspy with need, as he pumps his cock in and out of you.

Your mouth falls open, overwhelmed with satisfaction. You can only focus on the feeling of his cock dragging against you, his tip hitting so hard it feels like he’s moving around your organs. He pounds into you, not allowing anything but lewd moans to leave your lips for even a moment. His harsh groans and your airy sighs fill the room, slaps of his skin against yours lewd and wet. “Oh god, I’m gonna—”

Your words become nothing but a moan when his thrusts don’t falter and instead pick up. You don’t know how he’s managing to keep going, how he’s managed to move even quicker.

"Come on, baby," he whispers, clenching his jaw, letting you know that he’s on the brink of orgasm. Suguru bends down, taking your lip into his mouth, tugging and sucking and making you sigh in bliss. Then his fingers come down to find your clit, sending you erupting into an earth-shattering orgasm.

The next thing you know Suguru is groaning above you, his body going lax against you and his cum shooting into you forcefully, making you clench harder around him. Suguru whimpers as he continues to cum, again and again, releasing into you and painting your walls.

No way he just did that.

Suguru sighs, his hair brushing against your naked skin, and he presses a soft kiss against your collarbone. His lips rest there as you both come down from your high, basking in the glow of your orgasms and relishing in the presence of each other.

He pulls out of you, dragging his tip against your wet folds, before littering kisses against your face. Small pecks that tickle with the gentle force of them, and you giggle, running a hand through his soft locks.

Your chest heaves with the force of your breaths but otherwise your body feels light, airy, and any negative thought you’d entertained before is completely gone in lieu of the sex you and Suguru have just had, the mutual understanding you’ve created with the meshing of your bodies.

“I thought you’d be upset with me,” Suguru murmurs.

“Never.”

You trace your fingers against his skin, tracking his breathing and basking in his warmth. Your fingers slide through the grooves in his abs, tracing shapes over his collarbone, and tweaking his nipple just for Suguru’s barking of a laugh when he shoves you away saying that it tickles. You lean your forehead down so that it’s resting just near Suguru’s armpit, hairless like usual, and inhale— breathing in his scent, his proximity, him. He's perfect, and he’s yours, no matter what.

You’ve always wished for the closeness and transparency of a trusting relationship— have always wondered if you’d be able to get that, if you’d be able to keep it— and Suguru is proof that you have. It feels good to know that there are no secrets, no doubts or worries, and that there can only be acceptance between the both of you. A secureness that would be hard to find anywhere else. It fills you with butterflies, but it makes you incredibly happy to know that those feelings will remain, and you can only hope it'll stay that way forever and always.

When Suguru runs his hand down your back, reaching below the covers to squeeze your ass, you huff, poking him in the chest as a warning. Yet you know, and Suguru knows, that it makes you happy that you have this. A home, a person who loves you just as much as you love him, and a trusting relationship.

Suguru likes this familiarity. Laying down with you, bare emotionally and physically, and unworried about being judged or ridiculed. It feels good, it satisfies him more than he ever thought it could, and makes a comfortable, warm, feeling bloom in his chest. He inhales— taking in the scent of you and your proximity, and he smiles.

“Hey!” The sound is muffled, “Why’d you guys lock the door!?”

And that’s the end! I feel like it’s a bit rushed and I apologize for that, but I hope you enjoyed!

[kevin-the-bruyne]

I do find it quite insane that people think Bridgerton season 3 was too rushed. I really think Colin's every plot line has been to bring him closer to Penelope. I think there's plenty of gifsets already that show the little affectionate or longing looks between Colin and Penelope starting from season 1. But I don't even mean those when I say that Colin is written in a way that perfectly matches Penelope's fat girl romance story. People skirt around calling Penelope a fat girl and therefore her romance one that's strife with struggles around being fat because somehow that is what they think will betray their fatphobia. But it's not fatphobic to recognize the way that a fatphobic society has fucked with both Colin and Penelope's heads. Colin's incredibly strong, incredibly illogical crush on Marina Thompson, Penelope's cousin, suddenly makes so much sense when you contextualize it as his feelings for Penelope being misguided onto the closest eligible target. (It honestly even felt that way when I watched season 1 as it was coming out.) Because here's the thing about Penelope, right? That society has deemed her ineligible. A fact that we know Colin is painfully aware of by the end of season 2 when he declares to his 'friends' that he would never court her. The same friends he calls shallow to their faces in season 3. So was it surprising that Colin's whole arc in season 3 was about shaking off the shackles society has on his decisions and more importantly, his desires. Because Colin isn't just trying to get by with society's expectations like Anthony was, no. He was trying to change himself to like it. He was trying to buy into it. Because society made him miserable before and maybe embracing it would make him happier. There's a reason he's so passionately anti-Whistledown. She represents those very shackles of society that ironically keeps him from acknowledging his feelings for Penelope. Colin has been in love with Penelope for just as long as she has been in love with him, if not more. But Penelope wasn't the only one who thought that was impossible simply because she was fat. In fact, this is a very common fat girl dating experience, you meet men who would absolutely fuck you, heck they can even love you in their own way but they're not ready to face the shame of other's judgement in acknowledging you. Colin's every appearance on this show starting from season 1 has been setting him up to release those shackles. He wanted to for Marina, but his feelings for her were not genuine. He chased her out of obsession, not love and I think that distinction was infinitely clear to Marina. She could never inspire this soft, sensitive man to harden his backbone in a way that Penelope can. His love for Marina brought him anguish, his love for Penelope brings him joy. The Duke and Daphne barely had a conversation that entire season, Kate and Anthony met and created all of this havoc for what? Colin and Penelope are the only two, whose emotional connection has been established over the course of three whole seasons. Lots of criticisms can be made of their romance I'm sure, but rushed? Listen, I know why people think it's rushed and while season 1 and season 2 Colin would really really care that you think Penelope is unfuckable but season 3 Colin doesn't have a single fuck left to give.

[danielcain]

o-face

i need to get this off my chest 

for a few years, i’ve had increasingly common problems with loved ones giving me strange looks. 

i don’t know if it’s because i might be kind of on the spectrum or something (according to my roommate, lol) or basically a hallucination but the more i got to know someone the more they’d show me this face without realizing it. 

the nuances of the expressions were always different. but there always breathe hard. they breathe very, very hard. their body language remains the same, but from the neck up, it’s like their head occupies a completely different moment in time, a completely different context and sensation. the the scenery, the reality around the head doesn’t change, but the light does. and i feel their heavy breathing, i feel it in my ears in the same way you might hear your own breathing under a sheet or in a closet. the faces were always slightly different, varied person to person, and time to time, but each individuals tended to have certain personalities.

i swear, i’ve developed ptsd symptoms from experiencing this all my life. something that only is either some massive joke played on me or actual insanity. my childhood was pretty easy, i started developing this during puberty and it just never went away. it was scary as fuck. 

only when i got my first girlfriend did i begin to recognize the expression. i was a freshman. the most intimate relationship (then 19m) and her (then 21f).  we were having sex and her face started getting weird. 

so i froze, like always. only this time, her eyes refocused, she looked at me dreamily, and said, “why’d you stop?”

“your face.”

“you looked…” i didn’t know what to say. “you looked in pain.”

she scoffed at me. “never made a girl cum before?” 

no i just saw that face all the time, and never once had it looked back at me. i didn’t tell her that. 

the next day she made the face again, i pointed it out, and she didn’t react. frozen, heavy breathing. it didn’t look exactly the same. the eyes were wider, bulging. her tongue slid out of her lips and lolled like a fat slug, where in bed she had tastefully licked them. it creeped me out.

so i only realized then it was not only someone’s “orgasm face” but it was a snapshot of the last time they orgasmed. i could tell if she faked it, or if she had masturbated in between. 

the next partner i had was a guy. i quickly lost interest in him, too, sexually. but i felt that i could experiment. he was easier to bring to orgasm than my girlfriend. i found out he cheated on me because he had made a face i didn’t recognize, wincing, like he was taking it up the ass, something he and i never did.

i slept around in between. it was interesting. i could kind of reverse engineer what they liked by the expression on their face. honestly, it was one of the few ways i could consider myself “socially adept.” i could tell who liked to be controlled a little, who liked to be hurt. i could tell who was so uptight they couldn’t look anything but ashamed when cumming. there was always a margin of error, you know, the faces always looked a little grotesque. but maybe that’s just how people look when they cum, isolated, without the context of lovemaking; an unsightly, honest mask. 

[chapst1ckmcdyke]

So ive had this saved in my drafts for a while now- but theres a point id like to make about butch/femme identity and expression and think this is ready despite the crap i might catch for it

On my days off and when i go out for fun, lots of times i look like this vvv

And other times, especially because im a blue collar dyke, i look like this vvv

The thing that both these photos have in common is that, regardless of how i may appear, i am a femme lesbian. I am not magically butch at work just because i have to wear jeans and work boots for safety. On the clock I am often mistaken for a man and harassed for using the women’s bathroom, people call me sir and damn near keel over trying to correct themselves. I understand that people will look at me as masculine because im in a mans trade.

And yet im still a femme!

You know why? Because being femme is not about how i dress or how long my hair is or the job i work or the body im in, but who i am, how i love, and how i want to be loved back. Its my reclamation of my gender and sexuality and romantic life.

Theres this idea that femme lesbians are “the girl” lesbians and butches are “the boy” lesbians. Femmes are stereotyped as straight passing hyper feminine (and often times cis) girls. But if youve ever met a femme thats not always (in my experience- USUALLY) the case. We often are nonbinary (hi! Also me!) and/or gender nonconforming even in our femininity- taking the things that cishet society hates the most in women (ie body hair/body fat/masculine jobs/deep booming voices- etc) and owning those characteristics in ways that make us feel free and most like femmes 💕

I personally feel most comfortable being feminine off the clock and covering myself in glitter and being a tacky fat furry muppet because its how i feel best recognized by the butches i adore so much! But i get to reclaim womanhood or whatever adjacent, gender-fucked, lesbiany, thing ive got going on, and that doesn’t change when i wear jeans and work boots.

Femmes get to be whatever the hell we want- being broad shouldered and deep voiced and fat and furry and in a trade are not traits that magically make me incapable of being femme- and im over this whole ordeal where y’all assign butches and femmes as either “the boy” or “the girl” of the relationship and expect us to be exclusively feminine or masculine and never cross or mix- just recreating useless gender roles that we have zero reason to uphold.

(And this goes the absolute same for butches/studs who express feminine traits and DOUBLE for trans butches/studs/femmes)