#bc i'm still kinda struggling to write when i want to

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <3

[pencil-n-pen]

I WANT AN INNOCENT LOVE

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alexandria! rick grimes x fawn! fem! reader

masterlist | kofi

summary: you’re a new addition to alexandria. Rick’s just looking out for his group. That’s the only reason he finds himself drawn to you. Nothing else.

cw: LEGAL age gap (it is big, i imagine reader in her early 20s) canon typical depictions of violence, Rick is kinda mean to reader at first, Rick kind of struggles with the age gap a little, dom! Rick, slight possessive rick

tags/tropes: shy and skittish reader, she’s not used to dealing with people but she’s not helpless, honestly she’s just a sweet and soft person who became what everyone becomes in the apocalypse, hurt/comfort, insecurity, touch-starved reader a bit, YEARNING, no saviors or whisperers just Rick and everyone living happily in alexandria. Daryl is also here and he’s kind of like ur uncle bc i love daryl and i say so

a/n: i have nothing to say other than this is so insanely self indulgent it’s not even funny. nobody asked for this but writing it has kept me sane while i’m couch ridden. everything is terrible rn but rick grimes <3333

songs i listened to while writing: We'll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross, Work Song by Hozier (Rick's theme song) you were mine by Esha Tewari, Do I Wanna Know- Hozier's Cover, Somethin' Stupid by Nancy & Frank Cinatra, Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley (i'm so not normal about that entire album) Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers, Little Bit by Lykke Li (the original not the remix)

title taken from Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers

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₊ ⊹❀

You were just a little thing when you showed up at the gates.

All wide-eyed and skittish at the tree-line, clothes hanging awkwardly off your frame. Scuffed and dirty, when Rick goes up to the tower to scout you out.

You don’t quite come close enough for anyone to get any kind of information on you. Name, age, where you’ve been, what you’re doing at the gates.

These are all questions Rick, as leader, needs answers to.

If he could just convince you to get close enough.

Under different circumstances, he’d just let you do whatever it is you’re planning on doing, but the lurking is starting to make people uneasy. And he figured he ought to do something to ease their concerns. Easiest way is to either get you inside the walls or find answers to those questions.

You’re real good at staying out of reach, though. And you never stay in one place for long. By the time two weeks have gone by, you’ve made it around the entire length of the walls. Just to end up right where you started: the gates.

It’s just past the crack of dawn- dew is still lingering on the plants and grass and the sun’s rays have yet to actually provide warmth. Rick is up, making his rounds and checking in when one of the guards on rotation lets him know that you’re at the gates. Only time you’ve ever been that close.

So they’re opened, and you amble in— light-footed and unsure. Honestly, you remind him a bit of Daryl with your obvious hesitance to be in the company of other people and clear inclination towards nature. But where Daryl is hard edges and reclusiveness, you’re… softer.

A small group of people —curious onlookers, mostly— forms behind Rick as he saunters towards you, and he watches the moment you see the reality of your decision and begin to regret it.

He comes to a stop a few feet away from you, letting the silence hang in the air for a bit.

He finally takes you in with his own two eyes, without the aid of the binoculars, and he examines. Catalogs the nervous twitch of your hands and scuffs and scrapes he can see on the visible scraps of skin. Eyes the way you worry your lip between your teeth and can’t decide if you’re going to keep staring at him or look away- your mind clearly torn between vigilance and submission.

“You finish your tour of Alexandria?” He asks dryly.

You blink up at him, eyes wide. “Are you the leader of this safe-zone?”

He nods. “Sure am.”

You begin fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly. The small motion draws his attention back to your hands, where me notices bandaids practically covering the entire surface of your skin. He files the information away in his head for later.

“Are you currently accepting new members?”

He can’t help but crack a smile at your question. The way you phrase it and your nervous demeanor remind him so much of the times before the dead started walking— you look like a college student looking for a job, not somebody trying to find refuge here, after the end of the world.

“Depends,” He rests his hands on his hips, and he notes the way your eyes dart to the gun at his side before back up to him, “You got any skills to offer? You alone? Or do you got a group waitin’ for you?”

Your lip is raw from where you release it from your teeth.

“I’m really good at mending. I’m a proficient hunter. I can hold my own in a fight. And I’m alone.”

At the admittance of your lack of company, you shift back a few steps, a subtle re-distribution of weight.

Ain’t been socialized a whole bunch, Rick thinks to himself. He’s willing to bet you either don’t have a lot of positive experiences with large groups of people or you just plain ain’t been around em’ much.

He hums. “You killed anybody?”

“Walkers or live?”

“Either.”

You shift your shoulders. He’s starting to wonder just how many nervous actions you have.

“I don’t think anybody lives alone who hasn’t killed walkers.”

“And the living?”

You don’t move, but your eyes look to the ground, not at him.

Shame. Fear.

“Twice.”

“How come?”

“They wanted my supplies. Wanted me dead. I decided I didn’t want to die.”

He looks you over again. You really are a cute little thing. He thinks, absentmindedly in the back of his head, that something like you shouldn’t have bloody, bandaid covered hands. Shouldn’t have a kill count.

But he dismisses the thought. The end of the world leaves no room for those unwilling to do what’s necessary.

He dips his head. “We’ll get you settled in,” He jerks his head to the some of the guys behind him. “They’ll get you sorted out. Get along, now.”

You slink past him, distance carefully measured as you go.

Your eyes don’t quite leave him, though. There’s a moment- either you pause or his mind slows. Maybe a bit of both. But the air stills, and your gaze locks on him for the first time since he saw you, nestled in that tree line. The memory is clear and vivid- the sun shining through the trees, dappling you in shades of amber and grey. And then he’s here, and you’re looking up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and the sun has risen just enough that it casts a similar glow, the only difference now he can see up close just how the light catches on your face, just how he knows your features would look so different, so much softer if you were cleaned, if someone minded the cuts and scrapes.

And then you step away, and he snaps out of his reverie. He blinks a few times at your retreating form, shakes his head, and then busy’s himself with other work. There’s always something to be done.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the image of you gazing up at him, bathed in the early morning sun out of his mind.

—

A few days pass, and Rick sees little of you. He’s almost positive it’s on purpose. The few times he does see you, you look scared. And then, generally, you manage to make some sort of fleet-footed escape. The repeated spotting and fleeing reminds him of the time he accompanied Daryl on a hunt and startled a doe.

He can’t quite figure out why you’re afraid of him, though. He remembers being fairly decent to you when you arrived, and tried coaxing you towards the gates politely before you’d shown up on your own.

The sight of your scared expression ends up stuck fast in his head, usually super-imposed over the image of you on that morning at the gates. Two different versions of you, neither making any sort of sense.

He decides that it’s probably best that he stick away, if he scares you. You’ll settle, your ruffled feathers’ll smooth.

And he’ll stop thinking about you.

—

Neither do you settle or does he stop thinking about you.

He watches you from a distance, careful. You just… don’t relax. Ever. You creep away from every possible opportunity to connect with others like it might grow jaws and bite- you shrink back or freeze. Like you think if you play dead, if you don’t move, they’ll leave you alone.

He’s wondering what you hoped to accomplish by seeking refuge in Alexandria if this is how you act. You’re going to have a bad go of things if this is your plan. Or maybe you plain haven’t even thought that far.

He snags Daryl’s arm as he passes by.

“Wha—“

“The new girl,” Is all Rick says, still watching you remarkably avoid everyone who passes you. “She’s real skittish.”

Daryl follows his eyeline, finding you easy enough.

“Mm. She ain’t settlin’?”

“No.”

Daryl just hums again. “Well, she ain’t got nobody, does she?”

“So?”

The hunter shrugs. “Can’t relax. Ain’t got nobody to watch her back, take a watch. She’ll settle. Might take her a bit of time.”

Rick huffs. “She’s afraid of me.”

“No she ain’t,” Daryl snorts, “And since when does Rick Grimes care whether other people like him well enough?”

Rick doesn’t respond, just keeps watching you.

Daryl follows Rick’s gaze, then breathes out a low sigh.

“She is a pretty little thing, ain’t she?”

“That is not what this is about.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Sure it’s not.“

“She’s half my age. I could damn well be her father.”

“But ya ain’t.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is the point, Rick?” Daryl sighs again, crossing his arms. “Either do something about it or move on. You got too many people dependin’ on ya for you to be eyeing up flighty young girls.”

Rick rolls his shoulders. “You make me out to be such a creep.”

The other man claps him on the shoulder. “Then stop acting like one.”

He attempts to take Daryl’s advice to heart. It’s an annoying truth that Daryl always knows exactly what Rick needs to hear. Not necessarily what he wants to hear, but what needs to be said.

And he is being creepy. He shakes his head as he walks away. Watching you, thinking about you. He can’t. That’s— you’re too young to be thinking any kind of thing like that.

No matter how there’s this half second, before you look scared, where you almost look relieved. No matter how he wants to personally take care of the bumps and scrapes on your face, wants to take off the bandaids and examine what’s beneath them.

Daryl was right. He needs to focus. Carl, Judith, everyone- they need him.

You’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

—

You’ve gone missing.

Rick has been doing his best to heed Daryl’s advice— he stopped looking for you in the crowds, stopped trying to figure you out, stopped watching you from afar. He even made a fairly decent attempt to stop thinking about you. Not that the effort proves especially fruitful, but he tried, damnit.

All of those efforts go straight out the window when Daryl tells him that no one’s seen you since yesterday.

It takes him two seconds to grab his gun and follow Daryl out the door.

He barely remembers to tell Carl where he’s going, which scares him, because he doesn’t quite understand what’s been so invasive to his mind and day-to-day activities about you. Your eyes, the soft curve of your cheek, how you might feel in his hands.

They cloud his judgment. Make him do stupid reckless things like search Alexandria high and low for any sign of you.

He doesn’t find any. He searches the place you’re staying— nothing. Only sign of life is the unmade bed and bandaid wrappers in the trashcan by the bed.

He sighs deep and low as he stands over your bed. “Think she had enough? High-tailed it?”

Daryl leans against the doorway. “Nah. She likes it here well enough. She ain’t stupid enough to leave a good thing like this.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve spoken to her?”

Daryl shrugs. “Few times. She don’t like talkin’ too much, but I think she figures her and I similar.”

“She wrong?”

He scratches his beard. “A little. She fears situations and people the way a prey animal does. S’ why she’s a runner.”

Rick mulls Daryl’s words over as they scan the rest of the place but, of course, find nothing. There are no signs that you, specifically, live here. Nothing personal. Just the unmade bed and the bandaid wrappers in the trashcan.

The pair of them turn the entirety of Alexandria over in a matter of hours. He’s just about to call it quits, either wait for you to come back or send out a search in the morning when Daryl comes back over, telling him you’re at the gates.

As in, outside of them.

Opposite of how things went when you first showed up at the gates, people clear a path as he stalks towards you. They give the pair of you a nice, wide bubble. Even Daryl stays a few feet behind him.

The first thing he notices is that you’re covered in blood. From the way you’re holding yourself, most of it isn’t your own. There’s a backpack slung over your shoulder, but it’s not your usual one.

You won’t meet his eyes.

He stops an arms length away from you. “Where the hell were you?”

You shift backwards, away from him ever so slightly. “Scavenging.��

“Mhm, interestin’,” He says, rubbing his jaw, “Because the last scavenging party was yesterday. And you came back with everybody, so I’ll ask again. Where were you.”

Your eyes flick up from the ground for a moment, eying the people that have gathered to stare. He watches you mentally count them all, then attempt to put more distance between yourself and everybody else. Emphasis on attempt, because the second you take a step back, you stumble, wincing before righting yourself and going right back to scanning the crowd.

He works his jaw, anger and annoyance simmering just under the surface of his skin. He’s not going to get anything out of you here.

He grabs your wrist and turns, set in the direction of the medics.

He drags you along behind him, ignoring the little huffs or sharp intakes of pain when you walk a little too hard or too fast on your bad ankle.

You trip a few times as you go, and when you almost take Rick down with you, he sighs, pausing and turning.

The expression you give him is full of fear. He realizes, in the moment, that you might not remember where the medics are, so as far as you know, he’s angry at you and dragging you to a secluded area.

Guilt strikes him hard and fast, right in his chest.

Damn.

It’s too early to feel guilty about the random girl he allowed into Alexandria. Frightened eyes and shy nature aside.

He shakes his head once. “We’re going to see a doctor. Here, put your arm around me.”

He has to lower himself a little for you to drape your arm across the back of his neck. Your fingertips brush his shoulder, and he can feel the way you’re shaking.

It’s slow going from then on, with Rick acting as your crutches.

“Where were you? And don’t bullshit me.”

“Scavenging.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” You nudge the backpack still strapped to your back. “I was… looking for something. I can’t look for it with the others.”

“What the hell is it that you can’t look for it with the others?”

“A body.”

Your response hangs in the air, thick and heavy.

“…Family or friend?”

“Friend. Haven’t found her yet.”

Something clicks into place in his mental file about you. He feels like he just gained a new piece of the puzzle.

He readjusts your weight over his shoulder, tucking you a little closer and steadfastly pretending he doesn’t hear the little gasp you let out at the contact. Whether it was from pain or surprise, he can’t let himself think about it.

“Don’t go out by yourself. If you need to look, take Daryl with you.”

You sag a bit into him. “Okay.”

He glances down at you from the corner of his eye. You’re… pliant. You’d agreed quickly, and showed absolutely no fight or unwillingness when he, admittedly, manhandled you. You’d followed dutifully behind him and then simply allowed him to position your arms the way he wanted them.

There’s another little parasite that burrows into his brain right there. Right as he’s got you in his grip.

He slows to a stop, a little question forming in his head. He slips the arm that had been wrapped around your waist away, instead curls his fingers across your chin and jaw. He tilts your head up, looks down at your face, searching it for… something.

He meets no resistance. You only stare up at him, doe eyes blinking. He tilts your head to the left, then to right, and still, nothing.

Huh.

He lets go, and you shudder, a full body shiver. And he thinks, in this moment, that he could do whatever he wanted, and you might let him. He could break you, like this.

It’s a very dangerous thing, he decides. Because he doesn’t want to break you. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants to peel back the bandaids and see what’s under them. He wants to scrub the dirt from your face and give you soft clothes —his clothes— not those tattered rags that hang off your body.

You might let him do whatever he wants, but you’re the one who holds this power over him. You’re the one who made him sick— filled his head and clouded his judgement and made him the kind of man he never used to be.

But he can’t say any of that. Can’t even act on it. Not with someone young enough to be his daughter. He has a daughter for Christ’s sake. And a son.

So he just wraps his arm back around your waist and helps you to the medics.

—

“Rick,” Daryl says one afternoon, leaned on the post on the porch, “You’re drivin’ me crazy, here.”

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to help with that.”

“The fawn.”

He raises an eyebrow. “The fawn?”

“You know. That nervous little thing you keep pretendin’ you don’t want in your bed.”

“Daryl.”

The man just keeps fiddling with his crossbow. “What?”

“I can’t just— she’s half my age.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I got kids to think about, and—“

“Carl don’t give a shit and Judith is ten. Only thing she’s concerned about is sneakin’ sweets.”

He entertains the notion in his head, thinks about what pursuing you might be like.

Something occurs to him.

“She ever get close to you?”

“No,” Daryl huffs, always knowing exactly what Rick means, “Keeps about an arm’s distance away. No matter what. She’s been inchin’ closer recently, but not by much.”

His hand on your face, moving it this way and that without any resistance at all, your body pliant in his grip—

“Hm,” Is all Rick says, crossing his arms.

“Why fawn?”

Daryl shrugs. “Looks like one. Kinda acts like one, around you.”

“No she doesn’t.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Yes, she does. And based on the way you’ve been actin’, you like it.”

He opens his mouth to refute the point because no, he doesn’t like it, he just constantly thinks about how far he could take it, what you would let him do, if he could make you his.

And then he thinks ‘oh.’ Maybe he does like it.

He drops his hands to his hips. “What exactly am I supposed to do, then?”

“I don’t know. Ain’t my area of expertise.”

“You’re the one who knows her better, said I was drivin’ you crazy.”

“So? I don’t know jack shit about romance, Rick.”

“Well, you keep calling her a fawn. How different can it be?”

Very different, his mind supplies. You know that.

Now it’s Daryl’s turn to sigh. “Don’t overwhelm her. She’s a nervous little thing, but she likes you. Once she figures out you ain’t gonna hurt her, she’ll latch on.”

“That’s specific. You deal with fawns a lot?”

He snorts. “No. I’m fuckin’ guessin’ here.”

The two men fall into silence, Daryl fiddling or cleaning his bow— Rick ain’t paying that much attention to him.

He’s thinking about you. You, you, you. Your eyes and your face and your hands and the figure you carefully keep hidden under layers of clothing, even under the hot Virginia sun.

Fawn, he thinks to himself.

Fitting.

—

He doesn’t make a plan or something stupid like that. He just thinks. And then he decides.

“You’re really coming with us?” Glenn asks, pack slung over his shoulder.

“Yep,” Rick says, holstering his gun, “Goin’ stir crazy in there. Just needa get out for a bit.”

You’re quiet as you get your things in order, but the group doesn’t bat an eye. They’re used to your silence, it seems.

You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, though. You look away every time you think he’s looking at you, but he’s good at looking at you out of the corner of his eye, so he sees it.

Throughout the run, you hover near him, never quite going out of range of his field of vision. He’s impressed by how quietly and efficiently you work- you spot things even he wouldn’t have. All the while watching for walkers, and of course, subtly eyeing Rick.

Despite being the leader, he heads up the back and watches for stragglers. He didn’t really come out cause he was stir-crazy, anyway.

He came out for you. He wanted to watch you work, wanted to do it with you.

To your credit, you work well with the others. You’re a woman of few words with them, but you help where you can and stay civil. Even if you don’t quite get close to any of them.

Except Rick.

As they’re scavenging an abandoned house, a few walkers shuffle out from the trees. Not enough to be a problem— the group outnumbers them easy. But you’re all busy getting supplies and he’s trying to keep an eye out, so he takes them out, one by one.

It really isn’t a huge thing for him, couple walkers ain’t really a big deal, but you notice.

Your eyes are trained on him, clothes now dirty with blood and gore.

He tilts his head, then makes his way over to you.

“You, um,” You say as he gets closer, voice a little hoarse, “Are you alright?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. It’ll take more than a few walkers to take me out.”

You blink. “Oh.”

He snorts a little laugh. “You ain’t too good at this whole conversation thing, huh?”

You flush, looking away. “Sorry. I’m just not… used to having them.”

You look up at him, earnest. “But I’ve been practicing!”

Oh, lord have mercy over his poor soul. You’ve done a full 180– turned from being afraid of him to very obviously wanting his approval.

“That’s good, that’s good. Who you been practicin’ with?”

“Daryl.”

“Now, that ain’t no good.”

You frown, shifting in place. “It’s not?”

“Well, it’s good that you’re tryin’,” He amends, “But Daryl ain’t good for conversation practicin’. He’s a little too much like you. Much too inclined to just sit in silence.”

“Oh.”

You pause, taking your lip between your teeth and mulling something over in your head.

“Would you, um.” You look up at him, clearly nervous.

And he can’t help himself really, from leaning down into your space a bit, a low “Hmm?” humming from his chest.

Your reaction is instant. This close, he can see the exact moment a flush crawls across your face, to even the tips of your ears.

And he’d suspected, you know, based on your behavior with him. But this— cold hard evidence that he makes you nervous. That you want him on you.

It’s cute. Real cute.

You steel yourself against your own nervousness, and he wants to coo at you.

“Would you practice with me?”

He leans back against the post, slides his hands into his pockets. “Course. Ain’t much to it.”

You smile. It’s small, a quiet sort of thing, but it’s there. He made you smile.

You gesture to the house behind you. “I’m. Gonna go back to scavenging. Um. Thanks.”

You turn on your heel, fleeing back into the house. He watches you go, something settling right into place in his chest.

You stick a little closer to him for the rest of the run.

—

After that day, you begin seeking him out. You don’t approach him right away, preferring to to trail behind him for a little bit before finally making a move.

The move being a quiet: “Hi, Rick.”

Today’s no different, other than it being a little later when you do find him. He’s taking a little stroll around, as is his usual. It… settles him, to see everything alright with his own two eyes.

Settles him even more when he hears the quiet patter of your footsteps behind him.

He chuckles. “Afternoon, darlin’.”

Your foot steps speed up, fall into step somewhat beside him. “Hi, Rick.”

“Hi,” He says, smile tugging at his lips. “How was your day?”

You clasp your hands behind your back as you walk. “Good. Weren’t many walkers on today’s run. I got something for Judith.”

“Oh? Let’s see it, then.”

You take something out of your pocket and hold it out to him.

It’s a pocket knife. One of those multi-tool ones.

And it’s pink.

“I know it’s a cliche, the girls knife being pink, and she is only ten, but I saw it and I thought of her, and—“

“It’s perfect,” He interrupts before you can start spiraling. “She’s gonna love it.”

You deflate almost instantly. “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure.”

You walk for a few minutes before remembering the point of you coming up to him.

“Um. How was your day?”

He huffs a little, too fond to be upset. “Fairly decent. Ain’t got too much going on now.”

“That’s… good?”

He shrugs. “Just a little borin’. How’s that ankle of yours?”

This is usually how your conversations go. A few easy, back and forth questions. Easing you into talking to people, keeping conversations going. You’ve slowly gotten more confident. You talk a little longer, voice sounds a little more expressive.

“Fine.” You say, a little too quickly.

He narrows his eyes. “Really? No pain at all?”

It’s the looking away that sells it. You never look at him when you’re lying. Can’t stand to.

“No. It’s fine.”

He kicks his foot out a little, the toe of his boot just barely catching your ankle.

It’s a little more effective than he wanted. You let out a little yelp of pain and stumble forward, ankle almost immediately buckling.

He darts forward, catching you under the stomach with one arm.

You hang there a little, arms dangling.

“Fine, huh?” He hefts you up, so you’re back to standing upright, though now, visibly favoring your ankle. “So what’d the doctor tell you when I dropped you off?”

“Rest, ice, compression, and elevation.”

“And which of those four have you been ignorin’?”

“…”

“Hey,” He says, tapping the side of your jaw with two fingers. “Don’t lie to me.”

“All of them,” You wince, “I just didn’t want to be useless. I can walk on it fine. You haven’t even noticed until now!”

Your voice goes a little high at the end, a little desperate.

He thinks about how animals that are lower on the food rung don’t show pain. A deer will break a leg and keep walking until it drops, till it slows too much and something picks it off.

But you ain’t an animal, and nothing’s gonna pick you off.

“That’s true,” He says, “But that don’t make it right. You’re just prolonging the healing process.”

You look down. “…You were mad. I didn’t want to make you more upset by being useless.”

Ah. So that’s what it’s all about.

His approval, once again.

“I’d rather have you useless for a week than useless forever because you didn’t rest properly,” He ignores the hypocrisy of it, the fact that he’s ignored medical advice more times than he can count.

“I really am fine, mostly,” You say meekly, “It’s stopped hurting when I walk. It’s just a little unstable.”

“I still want you taking it easy for a little, you hear me?”

You nod.

“Nah,” He moves, standing in front of you, more than a little in your personal space, “I wanna hear you say it. Use your words.”

It’s a little test of sorts. To see how you’ll respond. What you’ll say. If you’ll listen.

You swallow, eyelashes fluttering. “I hear you. I understand.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Take it easy.”

“That’s right,” You’ve been nice and obedient, so he figures you deserve a little reward. “Good girl.”

He hears your sharp intake of breath, watches your eyes get a little glassy.

Aw, that’s all you wanted. Just wanted to be someone’s good girl.

His good girl.

He nods towards your place. “Get along, now. Do I have to walk you to your door?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll go. I will. Uh— bye.”

He watches you scamper away, gait a little uneven, hands clenched at your sides.

I can get used to this.

—

It becomes a little thing, after that.

When you’re not busy with your own responsibilities, you’re usually with him. Either right beside him, or trailing a few feet behind. Your company is quiet and calm, like waves from a lake lapping gently at the shore.

You also begin to settle in with the rest of the group. You’re still more inclined to be near Rick or, if he’s not available, Daryl, but once you become comfortable talking with people, Maggie and Glenn are quickly added to your slowly growing roster of safe people.

Judith has loved you ever since she found out that you’re the one who gave her the most beloved pink pocket knife, and enjoys babbling and talking your ear off about nothing the way that ten year olds do.

Carl grows to appreciate your presence too, finding solace in the fact that you don’t feel the need to fill silence with conversation.

You still act different when Rick is around, though. Especially when it’s just the two of you.

With everybody else, you’re subtly but very strictly independent- despite growing close with the group, you still maintain a slight distance with most of them, and prefer doing things yourself, by yourself. Old habits die hard, he supposes.

But when you’re alone, just Rick and you, those hard edges soften, and your little personal bubble pops. He’s steadily growing obsessed with the change.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Having such a cute little thing follow him around, hanging off his words. Most days, it’s all he can do not to throw you over his shoulder and carry you to bed.

And then one day, he does. Kind of.

It must be the middle of the night, but the second he hears the knock at his door, he’s wide awake.

He hushes both Carl and Judith back to bed, then creeps to the front door with his hand on his gun. He has never, in his entire life, been awoken in the middle of the night to good news.

When he opens the door he sees you. And Daryl, but he’s really focused on you. You’ve got tears streaming down your face, you’re wearing a strange combination of sleep clothes and the clothes he’s seen you wear to do runs. Your boots are on, but not tied.

“Wha—“

“Caught her sneaking towards the gates, all shaken up. Figured it’d be wiser to take her here then back to her place.”

Daryl pats your head once. “Don’t do anythin’ stupid.”

Then Daryl’s gone, and you’re standing on Rick’s porch, still crying.

“Alright, come here now.”

He barely manages to get the door closed before you fall into him, face pressed to his chest and hands grasping the front of his shirt.

He hesitates for just a moment before wrapping his arms around you.

“Shh, shh. You’re alright, you’re alright now.”

He presses one hand to the nape of your neck, keeping you tucked close as you crack, just a little bit, nearly silent tears staining his shirt and tremors wracking your body.

Eventually, he guides you over to the couch, situates himself before helping you into a more comfortable position. He wraps your arms around his neck, your legs draped across his lap and the couch.

He keeps one hand pressed to your neck, the other rubbing slow circles on your back.

He presses his cheek to the crown of your head, breathing in deep and slow, a curl of satisfaction rising in his chest when you unconsciously mimic his breathing, silent sobs slowing, tremors fading.

Once you’ve calmed down enough, he speaks.

“What’s got you so worked up, huh? What happened sweetheart?”

The pet name slips out of his mouth unbidden, but honestly, he wouldn’t take it back.

“Nightmare,” You sniffle. “Daryl was gone and it was my fault and you hated me.”

“Well, none of that happened now, did it?”

You shake your head.

“No, that’s right. Daryl’s just fine, and I ain’t upset with you. You’re alright.”

You take in a few shaky, shuddering breaths.

He shifts, readjusting and tucking you closer to him. “Now, how come you didn’t come to me? Daryl said you were headin’ to the gates.”

You go a little rigid. “Didn’t think I was allowed. Didn’t want to wake you up for something stupid.”

“Oh, none of that now,” He nudges you away a little, taking your face in his hands. He needs eye-contact while he says this, “You need something, you come to me. I don’t care what it is, I don’t care what time it is. You come to me, you understand?”

You nod, lip wobbling a bit. “I understand.”

He thumbs your cheekbone. “Good. Now come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”

In the morning, the kids are a little surprised to see your rumpled form at the kitchen table, but both recover fairly quickly. Judith especially, who rejoices at the prospect of someone other than Carl or her father whom she can hold hostage with inane, ten year old questions.

But you never quite shake that haunted look in your eyes. Like there was something else— something more in that nightmare, something that dug its little claws in and stuck fast.

It’s all he can do but pray it doesn’t last.

—

It becomes an unspoken thing that wherever Rick is, you’re nearby. Kind of like a little puppy, following him about and hoping for a treat.

He indulges you, because he can’t really help himself in the face of those eyes.

He also knows it’s the easiest way to get you to smile, which he’s been trying to bring about more, since the nightmare. You’ve shaken that haunted expression for the most part, but every now and then, it’ll come back, if just for a few moments.

You’ve been absent most of the day today, off on a run, and he wishes it didn’t get under his skin so much to not have his favorite girl right there behind him.

You’re his stress relief, and you don’t even know it. Don’t even do anything really, just kind of linger about with your adorable little face and occasionally help with your cute little hands. He’s hopelessly obsessed.

You’re smiling when you get back, bee-lining straight for him.

“Well, well,” He says, resting his hands on his hips, “What do we have here?”

“I got you something,” You say, practically vibrating with excitement, slinging your backpack off and rifling through it.

“Oh, something for me? Can’t wait to see it.”

You pull an honest to god polaroid camera out of your bag.

“You said once that you wished you had pictures of your kids to carry with you, and I found this, and it still works, and it still has film in it. I checked.”

You thrust it out to him, and he extracts it carefully from your hands, holding it with an almost reverence.

A camera. A working film camera.

You shuffle in place, and he realizes he’s been staring at it in silence for more than a few minutes. “…Do you like it?”

“I love it,” He says honestly, voice just a little scratchy, because he doesn’t understand how someone can survive the zombie apocalypse, and still end up so damn kind, and so damn sweet. “I’m so touched, sweetheart.”

You beam up at him. If you had a tail, you’d be wagging it. He’s never understood cuteness aggression until this very moment. He just can’t. He wants to squeeze you as hard as he can or just punch a wall or some stupid shit.

God, he’s pushing forty, he needs to get this under control.

“I was really excited when I found it. Tara took a picture of me to test it.”

You pull out a little polaroid picture, film developed, and he takes that with reverence too. In the picture, you’re smiling, that same soft, little smile you do when you’re really happy about something and don’t know how to express it. Your hands show two peace signs, a knife clutched in one.

That’s my girl, he thinks.

“Might just have to keep this,” He says, dumb smile on his face.

“Really?”

“Really. You know, it’s good luck to keep a picture of a pretty girl with you.”

“Pretty?” You squeak, flushing. It’s so easy to make you flustered. He loves it.

“Mhm,” He says, tucking the photo into one of the compartments on his belt, keeping it safe. “Real pretty, I’d say.”

“Oh.” You say, more than a little breathless. “Um.”

Oh, your poor little brain.

“You need a minute?” He snorts.

“Maybe?”

He chuckles, patting the top of your head. “Oh, you’ll be fine. Better get used to it.”

“You’re pretty too,” You blurt, then your eyes widen comically. “No, wait, I meant—“

He laughs, a real, actual laugh. “Me, a grown ass man- pretty. That’s a good one.”

You bury your face in your hands, a tiny little whine escaping your throat.

“Aw, come on, now. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m very flattered you think I’m pretty.”

“S’ not what I meant.” You mumble.

“No?” He says, prying your hands off your face. “What’d you mean, then?”

You look away, unable to meet his eyes.

“You’re… handsome.” You whisper the last part, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Aw, what���d I do to deserve a young thing like you thinking an old man like me is handsome?”

You mumble something again, a little too quiet for him to hear.

“…afe.”

He leans down. “What was that, now?”

“You’re safe.”

Oh.

That’s… not the answer he was expecting.

But he likes it.

Rick is a leader. A protector.

And you need him.

“I make you feel safe?” He hums, resisting the urge to step closer to you because you’re very much out in the open and he knows how you feel about wide open spaces, especially when there’s people in them. He’s torturing you enough as it is. “That why you linger around me, huh?”

Feeling bolder at his interest, you nod.

“You make me feel like… something special. Protected.”

Yes.

He’s always known that he needs to be needed. That he’s the kind of man who requires being a leader, taking care of what’s his, protecting.

To have verbal confirmation that he’s made you feel safe, protected, it’s.

Well it’s a lot more than he can unpack in front of the gates.

“Pretty little thing like you needs protectin’.”

You frown.

“Not because you’re incapable,” He amends, hands raised, “But because I rather like doing it.”

You lean closer, and he follows, heat rising—

“Please, save us all the pain of havin’ to watch, Rick.”

He grins, nose brushing yours, then steps back.

“Maybe stop creepin’ around, Daryl.” He calls to the other man, who just shrugs, ambling on by.

But Daryl does have a point. He doesn’t want an audience. You’re not that kind of girl.

Instead, he reaches down, snakes an arm around your waist and leads you away from the open space, towards his house instead.

“Come on, sweetheart. Think you’d rather be somewhere quiet for what I’m about to do.”

The heat radiating from your body and the shiver he feels under his palm is all the confirmation he needs.

His little fawn, finally his.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

[witchywcmans]

PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 3k

song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa

author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.

You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.

You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.

Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.

Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious. 

You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.

“Am I dead?” You asked softly. 

Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”

Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.

Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”

“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?” 

But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.

No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.

But the need between your legs still throbbed.

“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.” 

He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”

“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced. 

“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor.  “What should I do?”

“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.

Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment.  Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”

Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.

Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.

It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.

Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”

“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”

“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface. 

This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.

Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”

Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”

“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”

He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”

You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface. 

“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”

You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit. 

He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake. 

“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”

“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.

Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”

“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.

You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …

You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.

“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”

He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”

“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?” 

[m1guelsgf]

done for the night

axel kovacevic x reader

author's note ⋆｡𖦹 ✮ ‧₊˚✩彡

hiiiii this is my first fic for any CK character so i'm kinda nervous. hope u like it. i started a pt. 2 already bc i just love axel but i also wanna write him in different scenarios as well! will open my requests asap :)

c.w.

s6pt2 spoilers, drinking.

being in barcelona was a dream. you were grateful that you were able to tag along with the miyagi do's. sensei larusso and sensei lawerence always liked you, especially johnny. being miguel's best friend is a privilege you were happy to have. sure, it came with a lot of drama but it also came with a protector, a group of friends, and some karate skills.

plus, being miyagi do's water girl wasn't a bad deal for being flown out to barcelona.

you were enjoying being on the inside of all the events while not needing to fight. the first couple of rounds you seen were intense. being around all these powerful people made you a little nervous but you had hope nothing terrible would happen like the rumble at west valley. these weren't angry teenagers fueled off drama and angst, they're athletes. aspiring professionals.

after miyagi do managed to stay in the game by the skin of their teeth, everyone was getting ready to go out. sam was talking your and devons ear off about spain and all the things her and miguel were going to do in their freetime when there was a knock at the door. you got up from your spot at the vanity and opened it to see miguel.

he was distressed, foot anxiously tapping with a hand through his hair. "is sam in here?"

"yeah, sam." you waved her over to the door. "you good, miggy?" miguel opened his mouth to speak and his eyes immediately welled up with tears. "what's wrong?"

"my mom..." his voice shook as he took sam in his arms for a hug. "something's wrong with the baby, i need to go back home." he spoke, voice muffled by sams hair.

"of course." you nodded. "is there anything we can do?"

he only shook his head and hugged sam harder.

"miguel." johnny said from the end of the hallway and beckoned him.

miguel let sam go and gave you a quick but tight hug before taking off. you and sam share an uneasy look before going back inside the room.

"miguel's going back home? sensei too?" devon asked and the two of you nodded.

"i need a drink." you said, grabbing your purse.

***

at the bar, everyone just seemed to take the gloominess with them. knowing miguel was struggling made it impossible to have fun.

"what are we going to do now that miguel's gone?" devon asked hawk and demitri.

"we could always have y/n take his spot?" hawk said, giving you a look over like he was sizing you up.

you scoffed. "yeah right, i wasn't even good enough to fight for a spot in the sekai tekai. getting my ass kicked on the world stage isn't on my bucket list."

"i'm serious." hawk said. "if they can't get kenny, you're next up. so don't black out this time." hawk pointed at your drink, remembering the time you got blackout drunk and threw up all over the inside of his car at one of moons parties.

"i'd prefer drunk y/n over kenny any day." demitri started. "at least she didn't shit her pants."

"oooookay." you stood up, taking your empty glass with you. "i'm getting another drink." you saw the way they were looking at you. "my last one. i don't think you guys will need me but if you do, i'll be ready. i promise."

you walked over to the bar, where sam and robby were sitting. "hey."

"hey." sam said and robby only nodded.

"what's with him?" you noticed robby's bad mood as soon as you walked up.

"maybe you can help." sam stood up, taking her cup with her. "i'm gonna go sit with the others for a sec, see if miguel still has service."

"okay." you nodded, taking sams spot at the bar. "what's wrong?"

"everything." robby sighed. "i need a drink."

you wanted to tell him not to, that it wouldn't solve anything but you knew that he already knew.

"get one, whatever you want. i got us for the first round." you took some cash from your pocket. "hey, can i get a mai tai and..."

"a rum and coke. double. please." robby asked and the bartender nodded, getting to work on your drinks.

"it's one of those nights, huh?" he only nodded, peering at the other edge of the bar for a moment before scoffing and turning back to you.

"yeah." you looked down to where he had just looked, to see tory and kwon sitting besided each other. kwon had an arm around her shoulders and was whispering something in her ear.

"i'm sorry robby. she's gonna come around, i know she is."

"i don't know. she's doing better without me." robby took a sip of his drink and looked down to where tory was sitting. kwon had separated from her but was still close. "and i'm here." he looked at his drink. "thanks by the way."

"it's not good to drink alone. especially when you're down." you nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "also, i missed out on the robby who smoked weed and skated everywhere. i hear he was kinda fun."

"i still skate everywhere." he said with a small laugh. "just not a skate rat anymore."

"yeah, you're the captain now." you gently nudged his shoulder. "i don't know how that feels exactly, the pressure, but i do know that you're gonna make everyone back home proud. especially tory."

"i hope so." he took another drink and eventually, his was gone.

"i know so. she's been watching every one of your fights."

robby cringed a little bit. "knowing i've lost every one of my fights definitely makes me feel lame."

"you're still in it. there's still tomorrow." you took another sip of your drink.

robby nodded. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom."

you nodded in return, looking over your shoulder to see hawk on his phone, sam and devon talking, and demitri dancing with a girl. when you turned back to where robby was sitting, kwon was in his seat.

"hi."

"hello." you were playing with your straw.

"what are you drinking?"

"a mai tai." your responses were dry but kwon wasn't backing off.

"do you want to dance?" he offered his hands but you shook your head, backing away a little.

"no, thanks."

"what? you're only miyagi do's little girlfriend? not for the rest of us?" kwon leaned in closer. "i can treat you better than keene."

"leave me alone, kwon."

"hey." robby's voice came from behind you.

kwon only scoffed and backed up. "someone's waiting for me anyways." he stood up. "i promise i'll keep her warm tonight, keene." he said before leaving the bar.

"are you okay?"

"i need some air." you stood up and went outside, leaving your friends at the bar. you felt bad for leaving robby alone but you couldn't be there anymore.

you felt the effects of the alcohol as you walked down to the beach. your head was spinning. you stopped and took a seat near the shore, sighing as you looked out to the water.

and then you saw him.

axel kovacevic.

he had been destroying his opponents on the mat. nobody's been able to land a point on him. he was one of the strongest competitors. he was stoic too, especially now as he was practicing his kata about 10 feet away from you. in the moonlight, by the ocean, with the alcohol making your perspective soft, he wasn't robotic. he was focused. until he caught you staring at him.

you made eye contact and immediately looked down at your lap. you waited about 5 seconds to check if he was still looking and he was full on staring. it was awkward. he wasn't looking at you as a threat, but with curiosity.

the two of you observed each other for a silent minute before you decided to say something. "hi." you waved and he didn't say anything in return. "you're axel right?" he nodded. "i'm y/n. i liked the kata you were doing."

"i'm not supposed to speak with opponent." he turned away from you and you stood up.

"i'm not your opponent. i'm not even fighting in the tournament. more like, emergency backup." you smiled, watching the corner of his lips tug upwards.

"why aren't you fighting?" he asked curiously, taking a step closer to you.

"i'm not really a fighter like my friends are." you shrugged. "you're great though."

"i'm alright." he leaned over to pick up his shirt and revealed bruises on his back. the sight made you wince.

"what happened?"

"bo staff competition."

"nobody has been able to land a point on you yet." you looked at him and he had a sort of an embarrassed look. "i know about... your sensei. one of my friends saw. it's not right. you should be out with your team, not practicing alone."

"there's always time for practice. my sensei wants me to be the best. it's because of him i never lose."

"doesn't make it right." you responded. "your entire dojo is pretty great though, i have to admit."

"you're pretty." axel stopped himself. your face was on fire and so was his. "your dojo's pretty good too."

"thanks. do you wanna walk with me? back to the hotel?" you asked, rocking on your heels. axel looked around and nodded and you both took off into the night.

"how long have you been fighting for?" you asked.

"ever since i was a kid. what about you?"

"only a couple years. after one of my friends got really hurt, i decided i had to get serious about learning. he had been teaching me some stuff but when it happened i just had to join a dojo. it was actually... cobra kai."

axel looked at you in disbelief. "you were in cobra kai?"

"yeah. after miguel got hurt, i was really angry and i took it out on everyone."

"miguel..."

"he was the original cobra kai." you remembered when miguel excitedly showed you his first gi. "it's a long story though. those sensei's, silver. they put me and all my friends through hell. so i know what its like to have a sensei do anything to make you the best, even hurt you."

axel couldn't say anything, he could only look at you with wonder. "is that why you don't fight anymore?"

"kind of. i don't know. i'm just not as angry as i used to be. i feel like my anger was the only reason i was ever good and i don't wanna live like that." you shrugged.

"i understand." he nodded. "i love karate but i don't want to be a robot all the time." you shook your head and opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted. "i hear what everyone says. they call me a monster, a machine. sometimes i just want to be axel." you nodded, this time you didn't have anything to say. "that's why i like to travel. i get to disappear in each city whenever i'm not fighting."

"how many cities have you been to?"

"a lot." he chuckled and listed all the cities and countries he's been to. you listened in awe. "what about you?"

"i've never really left california." you responded. "but after being here, i'd love to see everything. the sagrada familia makes me feel small but not in a scary way. it's like a monument to the great things humans can do."

"how cute!" a familiar voice interrupted. "little rival team playtime, huh?" kwon and another cobra kai came from around the corner. "thought you were only for miyagi do to play with."

"and i thought i told you to leave me alone." you tried to push past them but they blocked the path. you could smell the alcohol on kwons breath as he spoke. "just let us go."

"what's the magic word?" kwon asked, leaning in closer to you.

"move." you responded bluntly, not wanting anything else to do with this.

"wrong." kwon scoffed and shook his head. he glanced over your shoulder and you were sure someone was behind you.

"we just want to go back to the hotel." you weren't planning on giving kwon what he wanted.

"okay. you can go, only if you say please." kwon was in your face again, smug smile plastered on his face.

before you knew it, the other cobra kai kicked axel. it barely affected him as he shot into action to defend the both of you.

"come on, hit me. show me why they brought you here." kwon tapped his cheek and you were about to raise your arm when you were grabbed from behind. you elbowed whoever grabbed you multiple times before being able to slither out and kick him across the face. at the same time, axel shoved the other cobra kai into kwon. "okay come on. i'll take you both."

the sound of sirens took everyone but kwon out of the fight. he was still pressing axel and had to be taken away by his teammates.

"come on, let's go."

the two of you bolted back to the beach. after catching your breath, you started laughing a little.

"what?" axel asked.

"that guy kicked you and you barely moved. you have a strong base."

axel looked away from you, a smile spreading across his face. "thanks. that was a nice roundhouse."

"thanks, axel." you smiled at him and then looked out at the ocean. when you looked back at him, he was staring. no, he was admiring you. "what?"

axel said nothing, he only reached to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. his hand brushed against your face and you leaned into the touch.

and then he kissed you.

and you kissed him back. it was perfect. he was cradling your face with one hand, pulling you closer by your waist with the other. his mouth moved against yours softly and romantically. it was sweet. he didn't want anything other than to kiss you and you were happy to oblige and let yourself be putty in his hands.

but then your head started spinning again. you pulled away abruptly, taking a deep breath as you came up for air. the alcohol, the running, and the kissing were all making you dizzy. "axel i-."

"i'm sorry, i should go. already after curfew." axel took off running down the beach.

"wait, axel!" you called out after him but he was gone. you felt terrible as you went back inside the bar to meet with your team. everyone was already heading out and robby was nowhere to be seen. you figured he had went back to the hotel and hoped he would be fine. everyone else on the other hand would be dealing with their drama for a minute, including yourself.

[onlyseokmins]

size matters • l.c.

Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬

"I'm worried my dick's too big."

Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.

He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.

And no one wants that.

"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."

Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 

He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.

"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you." 

Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.

"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."

You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."

"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."

Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 

"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 

You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 

He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."

"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."

"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."

"You know I'm not!"

"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."

Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"

"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."

Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 

"Are you flaccid right now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."

He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."

"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 

"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.

"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"

Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 

"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"

"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."

"Then you should try harder."

He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 

Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 

Like always.

Except it's not.

All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 

You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.

"Am I boring you, baby?"

"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"

He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"

"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."

"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."

"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."

"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"

Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."

"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.

You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"

"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 

That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.

"Ah, well, so do I!" 

Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.

Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 

While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 

"I wanna go home."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel like leaving."

He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"Ooh… are you jealous?"

"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."

"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.

Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 

Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.

"You want to go to my place?"

"Yeah."

He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"

"Sure. Maybe condoms too."

"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"

Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 

There's no one there, of course.

"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."

"You do? Good."

"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"

Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"

"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"

"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."

His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"

"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"

One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."

"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."

He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"

"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"

"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 

Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 

"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."

Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 

But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 

He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your pussy has too?"

"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."

"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"

And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.

Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.

He needs to get home fast. Now.

The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.

"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."

The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 

"No. You have to wait."

"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."

"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"

You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 

He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.

"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."

His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 

"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.

"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."

"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."

Neither one of you care. 

In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 

Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 

"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."

Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 

Oh, you cannot wait.

He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!

Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.

Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 

"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 

Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.

"C'mon bestie, please."

"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."

"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"

Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 

"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"

His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 

"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.

And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.

The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 

Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.

"You can't make me cum."

"What? Why? Need to stretch — "

"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"

"God, yes."

You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."

Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.

It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.

He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.

Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.

There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 

It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.

And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 

The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 

Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.

You're on the brink of climaxing.

And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.

Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.

He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 

"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.

"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."

"Can't believe you didn't rip them."

"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.

"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"

"Huh?"

It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."

With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.

"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."

"You love it."

"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."

You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.

"Someone's full of surprises."

"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."

Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "

"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 

You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.

"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.

His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.

It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.

"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.

You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.

It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 

Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.

He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.

It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.

"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."

"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"

"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"

You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 

"Mhm… yeah."

"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"

"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"

"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"

"Mhmph! More… more!"

A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 

Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.

He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.

Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.

"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"

Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.

"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."

"All… all for you!"

Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"

Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.

That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 

His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.

"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."

You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."

"That's not how it works."

Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 

You're honestly a little offended. 

He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 

Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 

You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 

"Good thing I'm flexible." 

"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 

"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 

You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 

"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."

What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 

To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 

Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 

But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.

Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 

It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"

And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.

White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 

Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.

"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."

He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.

Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 

Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.

It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.

"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.

He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 

Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.

There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."

"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."

"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"

"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."

"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."

"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."

It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.

"So, you're mine now too?"

"If that's okay with you."

And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.

onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©

[oh-no-its-bird]

You are making me EMOTIONAL thinking about baby kakashi losing his teeth and not having his dad around to ask about things now, not even specifically for fang reasons either 😭😭

I think I was late and lost my first took when I was almost seven and idk exactly when Sakumo died officially but. Idk. Something something the tragedy of potentially not even having a parent around to explain what is going on when you lose a tooth for the first time

I'm so glad u sent this actually bc I was thinking ab wanting to write a post ab this premise but wasn't sure how to phrase or start it

Kid Kakashi struggling through starting to lose his baby teeth after his father dies <33

Google tells me that children start losing their baby teeth around 6, and the general age I've seen for Kakashi when Sakumo kills himself is usually around that same number, so, it works out!!

You bring up such a good and fun point actually in just. Does Kakashi know what's happening to him? Has anyone explained to him that your teeth just naturally fall out when you're little?

One day, Kakashi goes to class and sees Obito, who's a few years older than him, bragging about how he "just lost my tooth the other day"

And Kakashi quietly goes to himself, "wow this guy is so bad at fighting, he got his tooth knocked out and he's happy about it. What a weirdo."

Obito is IGNORING the judgmental stares coming from Kakashi's direction, assuming Kakashi is just jealous of his super cool milestone of growing up

Thinking maybe Obito even comes over to try to brag about it, but Kakashi just goes "??? Why are you bragging about losing your teeth ??? God, you're such a freak"

And Obito is like, "I know ur just jealous BAKASHI. Because you are still a BABY while I am on my way to being a MAN"

And inside Kakashi, still deeply confused and weirded out, is like, 'why the fuck would I be jealous' but outloud he just glares and goes, "I've never lost any of my teeth because I never lose."

To which Obito loses his mind because he's like 9 and to a 9 year old that sounded kind of sick and how DARE Kakashi try and be cool about this

(In the background, Minato is well on his way to losing his mind trying not to laugh. Rin meanwhile is squinting and doing mental math as she tries to tell if Kakashi is joking or not)

But anyways like. Kakashi later losing his own teeth and freaking the fuck out about it. Is he sick? Is he dying? Should he go to the doctor?

Oh my god wait ok but Kakashi cornering Rin after a training session and demands she help diagnose him bc he doesn't want to go to the actual doctor or ask Sensei for help. And Kakashi admitting she's a "good med nin" and Rin is kinda going omg Kakashi conpliment,,,, life goals,,

But also like Kakashi thinks he's dying and she's SUPER flattered he thinks she can help but she's like. 10. And a med nin in training.

So she's kind of sweating like "omg what are ur symptoms, why do u think ur dying?"

And Kakashi is like my "fucking teeth are falling out !!!!!!"

And Rin is like "woah that sounds super scary and seriou— Hold on a second."

Kakashi goes as far as to take off his mask to show her, which goes to show how desperate he is rn because he'd usually never do that.

And Rin is torn between being tempted to pinch his cheek and pull at it like it's Mochi and also like. She's struggling SO hard not to laugh at this point because she knows if she does Kakashi will literally never forgive her

So Rin has to break it to Kakashi as gently as she can (and without laughing or cooing at his cute kid naivety) that don't worry, you aren't dying, this is normal

Kakashi doesn't believe her at first. But when he does he's suddenly overwhelmed by embarrassment. He will never recover. Hes so fucking glad he didn't actually go to the doctor or to sensei because at least Rin he can swear to secrecy FOREVER

Kakashi has to deal with his suddenly too big for his mouth adult fangs and keeps going to Rin to help heal the cuts they keep leaving on his lips ,,,,

Somehow Obito catches wind of this, and hears "Rin + helping with Kakashi's lips (???)" And thinks they're kissing and loses his goddamn mind in spectacular fashion.

Toddler drama....

Idk where Im really going with this, it ended up taking a life of its own

Uhhh anyways. Moving this conversation entirely:

You can copy pasted this exact concept onto Naruto for a really funny (and kind of awful) au where Naruto loses his first tooth and becomes convinced he's dying

He does actually try to go to the hospital but they try to turn him away, but when he blurts out that he's scared he's dying a particularly mean spirited doctor pretends to examine him then goes "oh no. You really are dying and have a week to live. Boohoo."

Naruto loses his fucking mind and makes a "things I want to do before I die" bucket list and then spends the next week desperatley trying to complete it bc hes convinced he's gonna die on the final day

This list includes but is not limited to:

- become Hokage

- start a family

- eat every single different kind of ramen on Ichiraku's menu

Idk how to make the first and third especially funny but like.

"Starting a family" ending up somehow leading to Naruto very aggressively trying to get literally anyone to hold his hand in a similar fashion to "Uchiha Sasuke's 10 step plan to get revenge" where Sasuke tries to get Shikamaru to marry him in his quest to "live a good life" to get revenge on Itachi, while Naruto hears Sasuke is looking for a husband and very loudly tries to get him to pick him instead

Which is actually a really fucking funny one on its own and now I'm just thinking about that instead, so I'll leave this post here

I got a little distracted, but. Thank you for ur ask !!!

[servndipityz]

what if.. what if first kissing Nam-gyu in one of the lasts rounds during Mingle (already having a crush on him for a lil while) because of the sheer adrenaline and then the reader js dies next round (or nearly, up to u) after promising to each other they’d finish this back in the lobby room?.. (IN MY HEAD THIS MAKES SENSE IDK)

a/n ── loveddd this request! hopefully i didn't write him too ooc.... anyway, i tried to make it kinda angsty but ofc i gave it a happy ending bc apparently i'm a 7 year old who can't handle sad endings. hope you like it!

DO OR DIE

warnings ── blood, general squid game themes

word count ── 1.8k

when you’d all been dragged to the colorful room, nam-gyu hadn’t thought it could ever look like this.

bloody, dark, and terrifying.

the children's song playing on repeat was starting to drill into his skull as the carousel spun round and round, the bodies on the floor piling up. you had been playing for three rounds—maybe four. he wasn’t sure anymore.

the effects of the pill thanos had given him were starting to wear off, and a slow dread curled in his stomach at the thought of playing yet another round.

next to him stood you, though he refused to look. every time he had during these games, the drugs only made him nauseous. the way you looked so scared, so afraid of what could happen, made him almost—almost—regret voting O.

so, he’d decided he wouldn’t look at you at all. whatever strange feeling you gave him from the very beginning couldn't be good. the way you watched him when he made a rude comment, like you were trying to understand instead of just hating him for it. the way his stomach tightened when you were around—which was often, since you’d joined his team. or the way it burned when thanos threw an arm over your shoulder in that ridiculous, flirty way.

it had to be the drugs. bad quality, probably. what kind of shitty drug would make him want to be near you all the time, though? that, he didn’t know. and he considered himself a drug connoisseur.

anyway, now wasn’t the time for stupid thoughts. the music had stopped. the carousel had come to a halt. the lights had gone out.

"two." the voice echoed through the loudspeakers.

immediately, everyone started screaming, and nam-gyu felt his hazed mind reel. in a frenzy, he turned to his side, searching for someone to pair up with—only to see you gripping thanos’ arm, saying something to him.

of course. you were going to pair with him, and nam-gyu was going to fucking die.

he jumped off the carousel, desperately scanning the chaos for someone, anyone, to pair with. but there was no one.

everyone was running, screaming, and he knew that if he didn’t find a partner fast, his chances of finding an empty room were less than slim.

he was going to fucking die. all because of a fuckass rapper and a bi—

"where are you going?" you shouted, cutting off his thoughts as you ran after him.

he spun around, wild-eyed, just as you reached him—your expression just as frantic. before he could react, you grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and yanked him forward, sprinting toward an empty room.

"what the fuck!" he shouted, nearly stumbling as you pulled him with more strength than he thought you had. but he had no choice—he had to run. the two of you barreled forward, straight for the door.

inches away.

then—shit.

two other players grabbed the handle.

without thinking, you shoved one of them, struggling to push him away from the door. nam-gyu kicked at the other’s hand with all his strength, feeling bones crack under his foot. he didn’t care.

the man’s pained scream was all the opening you needed. in a heartbeat, you both shoved the players aside, slipped into the room, and slammed the door shut.

with trembling hands, you locked it as fast as you could.

you pressed your back against the wall, your breathing erratic as the people outside still screamed for a room. nam-gyu ran his hands through his hair, trying to soothe himself more than anything.

both of your ragged breaths filled the room until you finally opened your eyes to look at him, having regained at least a bit of oxygen.

"what the fuck!" you finally screamed, stepping forward.

nam-gyu could swear he saw fire behind your eyes, and it almost scared him more than dying in this stupid game. he turned to face you, brows furrowed.

"were you trying to get us killed?" you shouted again. "why the fuck would you run off like that?"

"you fucking paired with thanos!" he screamed back, his fear masked as anger. he stepped forward too. how could you blame this on him?

"you're so stupid!" your voice cracked with frustration. "i was telling him to pair with min-su so i could pair with you and save our asses!"

he inhaled sharply, ready to throw another insult your way, but as you finished yelling, he froze.

you were making a fucking strategy.

of course you were. god, you were such a smartass. so annoying. so infuriating.

so damn perfect.

"are you not gonna say anything?" you yelled again, thrown off by the way he’d suddenly gone silent. his jaw tensed, his chest heaving, clearly thinking something—but he just stared at you, eyes tracing your features like he was trying to burn them into his memory.

you were livid now. "you fucking junkie," you snapped, closing the short distance between you. your finger jabbed into his chest, accusatory, unrelenting.

you'd been nothing but nice to him this whole time, and he'd been nothing but cruel to you. every damn day. you had every right to be fucking mad. of course you were. for whatever reason, you cared about him—you wanted to defend him, wanted him to survive this stupid game. and still, he’d almost gotten you both killed.

but as you shoved your finger against his chest, his breathing turned ragged, even more uneven than before. why was he looking at you like that?

to him, your touch only made everything worse. were you insulting him? maybe. he wasn’t so sure anymore—he’d tuned out everything but you, his brain fuzzy, his body tense.

he'd been so mean to you all this time. trying to push away those strage feelings he had every time he looked at you.

but at this point, did it really matter? maybe you’d both be dead in a couple of days. and then what? he’d regret not doing this for the rest of his life. or the rest of his death. or…

"shit," he muttered under his breath.

his hands shot up to cup your face, and before he could think twice, he crushed his lips against yours.

you let out a surprised yelp, heat rushing through your body the second his lips met yours. but you didn’t pull away. as soon as your brain caught up, you kissed him back, messy and desperate as you stumbled backward, your back hitting the wall with a soft thud.

your fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand running up and down the back of his neck. he groaned against your mouth, breaking the kiss just for a second before diving back in, his lips moving over yours like he’d been starving for this.

he pressed open-mouthed kisses wherever he could reach, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he’d already died. if this was heaven. his hand left your cheek, trailing down your side, his touch light but desperate, like he wanted you even closer than you already were.

then you let out a soft whimper, and the sound sent a shiver up his spine—right as he heard the quiet click of the door unlocking behind him.

you pulled back first, breathless, letting out a quiet, awkward laugh. his hands lingered on your waist, his eyes locked onto your lips like he was using every ounce of restraint not to kiss you again. because, fuck, he was.

"we need to get back out," you murmured, nodding toward the door. the next round would start soon.

he blinked, still dazed, nodding slightly like he was struggling to process your words.

"okay," he finally said, his gaze still fixed on you. "we'll finish this when the fucking game is over."

you nodded back, giving his hand a quick squeeze where it still rested on your waist. then, finally, you both stepped out of the room and made your way back to the carousel, forced to dodge the pools of blood staining the floor.

"what happened to you, ma' boy?" thanos called out to nam-gyu the second he spotted you two settling in, looking at his disheveld hair.

nam-gyu shot him a look, hastily running a hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it out. he opened his mouth to answer—

but before he could, the carousel lurched into motion, the music flooding the room once again.

as the music stopped once again, your throat ran dry. it was the last round—finally—and the loudspeakers announced the number of players.

"seven."

nam-gyu froze, glancing at his group. thanos, min-su, you... no way were you seven. their breaths came ragged as they looked around, searching—until they spotted another group, just big enough to combine with theirs.

"run, c'mon!" thanos shouted, already sprinting toward them. the others followed, adrenaline surging through their veins. relief was just within reach—nam-gyu could almost taste it. it was almost over.

nam-gyu barely registered the rush of air, the burn in his legs. the door was right there. safety was right there.

then, something twisted in his gut. something wrong.

he turned. you weren’t with them.

"wait!" he choked out, but hands grabbed at his jacket, dragging him forward. then he saw you—on the ground, struggling to get up. blood, maybe, or something else had made you slip. but the distance between you two kept growing as nam-gyu was pulled toward the nearest room.

"we're already seven!" someone yelled, tightening their grip when they noticed him resisting. "we don't need anyone else!"

nam-gyu didn’t listen. he didn’t care. not about their number, not about the game. but before he could break free, they forced him inside. the door slammed shut behind him, locking. his fingers clenched around the handle, desperate, useless.

"what is wrong with you, man?" thanos shouted, shoving him away as he tried to look outside through the little window.

"we fucking left her there!" nam-gyu shouted back, his voice cracking, pushing him just as hard. but when he turned back to look outside, you were gone.

maybe you were okay. or maybe… maybe they'd already killed you.

the seconds until the door opened again dragged on like an eternity. nam-gyu was practically buzzing when he heard the lock click, stumbling out of the room and frantically looking around.

you weren't there. you weren't anywhere. his heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, a loud white noise rippling through his head, making it impossible to think.

and then—there you were.

stepping out of a room on the opposite side. the ringing stopped. god, his heart almost stopped.

your red eyes flicked around, searching, until they landed on him.

it took him a second to move, like his brain was trying to send the signal but his legs weren’t listening. you both crossed the room fast, until you stood face to face. and then—just stopped.

his hands were shaking when he reached for you, his gaze catching on a tear still clinging to your cheek. for a moment, it looked like he might stay like that forever—silent, still, unsure if you were even real.

and then, he cupped your face. but this time, it was different. this time, it was gentle.

it felt strange coming from nam-gyu. but somehow, it felt right.

© servndipityz 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content without my permission.

[arminsumi]

can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)

love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗

AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟

NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well &lt;3

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.

WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship

SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am

Wordcount ≈ 2.3k

Playme ♪ wet dreamz

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.

Where are my hands supposed to go?

He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.

This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.

All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.

Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.

But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.

He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.

The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.

How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.

Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”

“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.

His stomach flipped.

“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.

Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.

“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.

You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.

“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.

“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.

“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.

He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.

“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.

He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.

But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.

And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.

“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.

His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.

“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.

“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.

His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.

“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”

He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”

Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally

“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”

Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.

“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.

So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”

You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.

“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”

His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.

When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.

“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.

To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.

But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.

“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.

“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.

Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.

You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?

“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.

“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”

He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.

“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.

“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.

“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.

“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.

“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.

You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.

Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.

Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.

“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.

“Fuck.” You agreed.

“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”

“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.

“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”

You laughed with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”

“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.

“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”

[murder-cookie-dust393]

Ok, ok you don't need to write anything for this if you don't wanna, BUT I don't have anyone to talk yandere stuff with so imma rant about one of my favs here quickly.

So caramel arrow right? Her whole life as been working hard to be the best dark cacao warrior, even when she was younger or her dough would crack, she would train and when she was banished her loyalty never wavered. Not once.

Untill, she meets reader cookies during her banishment, let's say you left a little after she was banished bc you could see how bad things were getting there. So middle, middle you become friends and travel together protecting the villages and what-not.

But after a while carrow finds herself looking to the reader for emotional support and guidance during this time, so she ends up being just as [if not more] loyal to reader cookie than dark cacao cookie. [I mean, if dark cacao dosent want her back then why should she go?]

Because of that she has this big dilemma about her loyalty to the king vs to the reader, personally I imagine she would try to run away or force the reader to leave with her because her obsession would win against her loyalty to the dark cacao kingdom.

Anyway wall of text done ^^u I don't really write, so sorry if it's not verry readable.

Don't forget to drink water btw ^^

A Grip Too Strong

So initially I was confused when you mentioned like middle and stuff but I realized that I think you meant like- MC is a citizen of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. So I hope I'm getting that right, I'm just mentioning it just in case.

This is my first request in a while, so I kinda just randomly typed out whatever. So if the like point of view or just the general writing style isn't very story-like, that's on me. I literally just blabbered lmao

Another point I want to make is that Caramel Arrow isn't filling in her canonical role of the story. I just wanted to point that out because it'll make sense towards the end.

Tw: kidnapping, overly clingy (but also not??)

Caramel Arrow was extremely saddened and frustrated by her king's willingness to banish her under Affogato's untruthful tongue. She felt so alone without her comrades by her side and her job, which she had trained so vigorously for. Yet she carried on, her determination still brewing within her heart.

She was expecting to be alone for who knows how long. To her surprise, she finds one of her people while her usual patrol on a blizzard day. She had spotted the cookie every now and then in the citadel, but she didn't know them at all. She approached them, confused as to why they were leaving; after all, she is the most loyal to his majesty.

"May I question why you are leaving the kingdom?" Caramel Arrow puts away her bow, tapping the toe of her boots to get the extra snow off.

"Oh. You are Caramel Arrow Cookie, I assume? I'm not sure if you know this, but the Kingdom has been crumbling the last few months.." The cookie responds, shifting the pack on their back slightly.

"Oh no. It's probably under the hands of that sickening Affogato. Is it really that terrible?" Caramel Arrow makes a concerned face, wondering just how bad the kingdom's state is.

"The food is scarce, and the soldiers are slaving away trying to reinforce the wall. It's definitely taking a toll on every cookie within the citadel." They answered, glancing back at the wall that defended the citadel from the Licorice Sea.

"I see. What is your name?" Caramel Arrow changes the topic, not wanting to wallow in the negativity any longer.

"MC Cookie." They respond, making a small smile.

—————————————————————————

Since then, MC and Caramel Arrow have travelled together. On the patrols, Caramel Arrow hunted the beasts, while MC gathered supplies or helped the villagers recover from the attacks. The two worked diligently as a team, surviving in the cold snowy lands outside the citadel.

After a few months, the two became good friends. They were each other's comfort during times of struggle. They opened up about each other's childhood stories or embarrassing moments. At night, they would stay up later than usual chattering about lots of topics. Although Caramel Arrow had been separated from her comrades, she found herself enjoying MC's presence a lot.

As their relationship with each other gets closer, Caramel Arrow continues to indulge in MC's presence. Soon, she confides in their comfort. She tells them her worries for the kingdom, and the sadness she feels for her king abandoning her; especially when she had been so loyal to him from a young age.

MC patted her shoulder, responding, "You have every right to feel sad and betrayed. The king might be meddling in problems he sees most important, like the wall. I'm sure the advisor doesn't help either. Your banishment is not your fault at all. It's a misjudgment on the king's end." MC makes proper eye contact with her, trying to properly communicate their thoughts to her.

The archer sighs, her posture a little deflated. She mumbles back, "Yeah, I suppose you're right. I would be lying if I said it doesn't hurt though."

MC notices she was still a ball of sadness. They glance around in thought, trying to find something that could make her happy.

Snow.

"Can I ask..." MC hesitates, pausing for a single second. They continue, "Did you do snow fights when you were a kid?" They make a smile, kicking some of the thick snow.

Caramel Arrow was a little caught off guard but managed a grin. "Of course! What citizen of the Dark Cacao Kingdom has never played a snowfight?"

Within minutes, the two cookies had two snow forts built and hurling snowballs at each other as fast they could. Perhaps childish, but the nostalgia was definitely there. Poor MC has to dodge as many snowballs as they can, Caramel Arrow has such an excellent aim. They laugh and banter at each other, a friendly competition rising.

Soon, they tire from the play, laughing at each other as they're both covered in snow. They're sat next to each other on a nearby log, still poking fun at each other.

"My fort was prettier than yours!" MC challenges, smiling so much they're mouth is getting tired.

"Well, mine was more practical for the actual thing! Decorations don't matter in the play of war!" Caramel Arrow laughs, slinging an arm around MC's shoulders.

"Still, at least mine was nice to look at!" They lean closer from the arm weighing down on their body. Their posture was slightly bent.

"Funny." She pauses, looking over at their face. "I'm glad you suggested the idea. It really reminds me of home..." She smiles, slightly sadly.

MC pats her back. "Don't get all mopey now, we're still at home. There's still a bunch of snow everywhere and the black sea full of ugly monsters." They try to comfort her with some humor.

She chuckles, "Yeah, you're right. We're still at home."

—————————————————————————

As the Cookies of Darkness and Affogato were overthrown by Gingerbrave and his companions. Caramel Arrow was given an invitation to return to the kingdom once more as a Watcher. MC was overjoyed for her, knowing she could finally be happy again. They themselves were ready to return back to the kingdom since the overall state was much better than prior.

But to everyone's surprise, Caramel Arrow refuses to go back inside the citadel. She refuses to let MC move back within the citadel. She wanted to explore the world and spend her days having with them.

"Caramel Arrow, this is our home. We can't just leave it. Everything's okay now. You can get your job back!" MC pleaded, trying to convince Caramel Arrow that they should return.

"Why? That place no longer feels like home. The betrayal, has affected me in ways I've never felt before." She explains, shaking her head. The frown on her face only supplemented her disappointment.

"I know that but- but you can start anew! Your comrades miss you! You protect the kingdom greatly. They need you, Caramel Arrow." MC tries to reason, taking her hand with their gloved one.

"MC, that's not what I want in life anymore. This isn't home for me. You're my home. I want to explore the world, and have fun with you. Only you. If I have to suffer, I want to suffer with you." She firmly states, pulling them closer to her.

"...But I don't want to leave! I'm not meant to travel the world. I like home." MC grows a bit panicked, finding her behaviour abnormal. Didn't she love her homeland? Wasn't her loyalty to the king?

"Don't worry, you are. I'm always with you. I'll protect you." She picks up MC swiftly, putting them over her shoulder. She immediately starts to trudge away from the citadel. The Sun's gleam beating down on the two.

"H-Hey! Let me down! Caramel Arrow! Listen to me!" MC struggles against her, but her grip is too strong.

Just like her loyalty to them. Too strong.

—————————————————————————

Idc how buff you are, that girl is a buff kween and will absolutely pick you up.

This kept expanding and expanding as I wrote help- I didn't expect it to be this long. I have homework to do lmao.

But I really liked this one! The chronological order helped me adjust to writing again.

Comments and thoughts, you may blabber all you want.

- Celina

[profundcherrylady]

SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI.

A/N: Finally writing about Sae's late wife because y'all have been begging me to (y'all: like 3 people). Honestly idk if I'm gonna make more parts of this one so sorry I can't think of anything else at the moment (and I have other themes I wanna write)

Warnings: Mentions of death (kinda explicit but not too much) and SOME angst, bc obviously he's gonna be sad. Lots of grieving (it all works out in the end trust 🙏)

Contents: Sae being a little careless and awkward lol, kid not knowing a single thing about keeping her thoughts to herself, some fluff but this is a weird mix of like three things at the same time including hurt/comfort. Implied fem!reader (usage of femenine pronouns for reader, reader being refered to as 'miss')

Description: After losing his daughter at the supermarket, y/n FINALLY makes and appearance and makes the tag "sae x reader" make sense for once.

At the vegetable section, you struggled to choose between the various options to bring home for dinner. It shouldn't be this hard, since you were all by yourself most of the time, but you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat. It was then when you felt a gentle tug on your coat that made you look down, little teary teal eyes meeting yours and almost making you smile at the adorable sight of this kid staring at you in confusion.

"Hey sweetheart, what's wrong? Where are your parents?" you took notice of the lack of adult supervision this child had, since all the other adults around seemed to be either alone or not in panic of having lost a kid.

The girl opened her mouth to speak but then paused (seemingly reconsidering her words) and then spoke again, "Hi, my name is Mao Itoshi. I can't find my papa right now, can you help me find him or get me to the 'nearesest' 'autohority'?

And your heart almost melted at the way she messed up her little speech (which you assumed was given by her father in case she got lost). And how could you say no to helping this little angel? "Aw, of course honey, let's get you to your dad." you took her small hand in yours, ensuring she wouldn't get lost again, and started walking around in hopes to find her father. She still seemed a little scared and confused but you managed to calmed her down with the assurance of finding her dad. "What does he look like?"

"Um... he's... super tall and super cool-looking." you chuckled at her answer. Of course she wouldn't give you an actual description.

"I mean, what's the color of his hair or his eyes. Does he have eyes like yours?"

"Yeah."

"And what's his name?"

"...Papa?" you laughed again.

"You know your dad's name isn't 'papa', right? He has an actual name."

"He does??? What is it?"

"I don't know." you giggled. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll know when we find him."

"Mao!!" a short-breathed, panicked voice interrupted your little conversation, and it was then when you spotted Sae for the first time. You weren't particularly interested in football, but even then Sae's reputation as the country's favorite midfielder was hard to ignore. One would think he wouldn't be out in a public space like this, but here he was, a totally different face as what was shown in the media. He looked just like a regular father, relived to have found his child.

"Papa!" the child beamed at the sight of her dad, and she let herself be carried and hugged as soon as he reached her.

"What were you thinking wandering around like that? You're just so- I've told you a million times- You are in so much trouble, young lady, you- What did you think would happen if-" he took a moment to breathe. In moments like this one, gentle parenting was probably one of the hardest things Sae has ever done. He tried his best to not loose his cool and scream at her; that wouldn't solve anything. The important thing was that she was safe and sound. "...You are going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Something bad could've happened to you, you know? I'm just... glad you're okay." and it was then when Sae first took notice of you, standing awkwardly trying to not ruin the little family reunion.

"She helped me get to you, papa." he heard his daughter explain, and it made sense because he knew the little girl would probably still be crying for her dad if no one was there to help. So although he would've liked to avoid the extra social interaction, he figured the least he could do was say thank you.

"Thank you for helping her. I've told her to not wander around, especially in big supermarkets like this, but she just won't listen sometimes..." you chuckled once again, now more from embarrassment than amusement at her antics.

"That's okay. I know how kids can be."

"You got any?" he inquired, and you shook your head with another laugh (which Sae didn't understand because he asked seriously).

"Nah. I mean, they're nice, I'm not saying I wouldn't like any, but I don't have any kids at the moment. Just little siblings; they can be just as difficult."

"You don't have to tell me twice..." he scrunched his nose a little at the thought of Rin as a child, and how difficult he was to handle, which in retrospective made it easy to figure how he got along so well with his niece (lil bro was just as problematic)

"But your kid seems nice. I'm sure she's a good child."

"When she wants to be... but mostly yes, I try to make sure she grows up to be good."

"I'm pretty sure she will."

"Are you single, miss?" Sae turned his head at his child so fast he might've breaked his neck, but he didn't care about that, he was too busy being shocked.

"Mao, don't ask people things like that."

"Why not? She's so nice to me, I like her. And you're single too!"

"That doesn't mean you can ask her if she's single. You need to think before you speak a little more, god..." he turned to you again, "So sorry about her; seems like she hasn't learned social norms yet." (Isn't that his job to teach her? Lol.) "We'll be going now, thanks again." with the still complaining child on his arms, he walked away to his shortly abandoned shopping cart, making sure to NOT set her down this time so he could keep an eye on her.

"Papaaaaa."

"Don't throw a tantrum in here, please... what's going on now? What you did was wrong, you know?" he sighed. "I don't you didn't mean anything bad, but you can't just ask any woman who is nice if she's single and try to set her up with me."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't correct, okay? Why are you insisting so much on this?" she pouted, hiding her face on his shoulder on an attempt to not talk to him. Sae rolled his eyes at the sight as he continued pushing the shopping cart through the aisles, then spoke again. "Come on, tell me."

"I wanna do the mommy-daughter dance at school..."

"Oh..." that made it make sense. "I could do it with you; you don't have to set up strange women with me for a parent-daughter dance."

"It's a mommy-daughter dance! It's not the same... I'm the only one who doesn't have a mom and the teacher says it's okay but I know my classmates are gonna think I'm weird." he hummed, understanding her feelings. Of course, he hadn't gone through anything similar, but he could get how she could feel singled out if she showed up to a mother-daughter dance with her father. He really did wish there was something he could do to make her feel a little better.

"Well, sweetie, there's not much I can do... you know I'm happy to do the dance with you if you want." he felt her lower her voice a little as he got closer to the line infront of the check-out.

"I know..."

"Don't get so sad... you're not going to be left out, I promise. It's the same thing, I mean, what difference does it make? I'm still a parent, and you said your teacher said it was okay."

"She did..." Sae's attempts to cheer up his daughter were failing, so he went straight to the only fool-proof plan he's ever known to always work.

"You want me to buy you ice-cream?"

"Okay..." he smiled a little for her, hoping to coax her to do the same, and once he was close enough to the small ice-cream freezer next to the cash register he opened the lid to take one for the little girl (one he knew for sure that she loved, just to be safe). But as he was taking out his hand he took notice of your presence, again. You looked even more surprised than him, but your expression quickly changed at the sight of the sad child.

"Aw... it's you again." you said, "why the long face, little one?"

"Don't mind her, she's upset about something... rightfully." Sae responded before Mao could. "Can't do anything about it though."

"A mother-daughter dance."

"And... why is that difficult...? Does she not have a...?"

"No."

"Oh... I'm very sorry." he answered you straight to the point. He was used to people asking about his late wife but he never bothered talking about it. It just... still hurt. And it kind of hurt even more knowing he couldn't give his daughter the one thing she yearned for the most, even though everyday he tried his hardest to give her the best life possible. He did everything in his power, he fought and struggled and worked day-to-day to be both a father and a mother somehow but it still wasn't enough. She still missed her mom as much as he did and the thought of replacing that woman was... well, there's just a reason why Sae was out of the dating game after his wife's passing.

And now he was here, teary-eyed child on his arms and a woman he only met once that same day on the supermarket, when the possibly stupidest idea came up to his brain, and he made the stupidest decision of saying it out loud.

"Listen, I know we don't... know each other technically but my daughter seems to think you're nice and... could you go with her to that dance? She just... she doesn't want to feel left out." he was also kind of desperate. Like really, really desperate because if he wasn't he wouldn't be asking this to a supermarket stranger. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I... can't seem to find a solution to this. She'll settle to go with me if I tell her but she'll be sad and... people won't know you aren't actually her mom. It'll just be one night."

You doubted for a moment, but when you looked at that sad little girl with her big eyes full of tears, how on earth were you supposed to say no?

"Okay, I'll do it. I don't mind."

"And don't get me wrong, okay? I'm not trying to... replace her mother or anything; it's just that one night." he warned, and you nodded. "Thank you."

He tried to be nonchalant about it, however it was hard to deny the strange feelings he had about the situation. He closed himself off after his wife passed away and he promised to not try and find her a replacement, alas not get married again. This was the mother of his only child and the one woman he could say he's ever loved; how could he just throw that away dating someone else after she died like that? It felt wrong, somehow.

When he got married it was "til dead do us apart" so, what now that it did? He couldn't move on, no matter how much he tried. Even when his wife was dead he was struggling to process that he was a widowed man; whatever interaction he had with any woman for some reason still felt like a betrayal of his marriage. Like cheating. He was cheating on his wife who was no longer even alive. His daughter was motherless and he was a little bit of a coward. Many people had told him it was the grieving process and that the feelings would pass with time but they didn't feel like they were. He still teared up a little whenever he remembered that day when the stupid rain caused a stupid car crash that his wife wasn't even involved in yet got unjustly affected from the aftermath of the crash. Or when he got home and remembered he was one person short of a family. Yes, he had a daughter and furthermore a family to come home to, yet he felt... oddly lonely.

Was that normal? Was he allowed to feel lonely? How could he when she still had that child waiting for him at home and looking up to him, making him drawings and giving him hugs whenever she felt sad?

Maybe it was because he spent so much time working, or because his daughter spent a lot of time at her preschool, that it almost felt like it was just him. That he really was lonely.

So, fast-forward to a few months later, imagine his surprise when (before he could even realize it) you were part of his daily routine? It had become so frequent for his daughter to ask for your presence at school events or things like do her hair or just play together for a while that in a very short amount of time he found himself calling you over every weekend, and maybe making a little conversation with you while you were there. Then hours would pass and it would become a little too late for you to go home, so he'd offer you spend the night, and later inquire if you had dinner yet to make sure he had made enough food. The morning would come and with the moon hiding to let the sun rise you'd be gone as well; quick farewells before you rushed back to your own routine and his daughter would inevitably ask how much was left to see you again.

Then he'd chuckle at her impatience, staring at the door you just left through for a brief second.

And he'd say 'soon'.

[ljubitelj-sonca]

heyo the State Of The World has been getting to me so maybe some bokris hurt/comfort (emphasis on comfort)? maybe bojan struggling w anxiety and kris trying to soothe him, or kris having a bad headache (bc i looooove projecting my headaches onto him) and bojan soothinghim in little ways he can (if u dont feel up to any of this then thats totally cool i love your writing anyways and always will🫶 muah xoxo)

Hello dear, I so get you, I feel like we all need some (hurt/)comfort in these times.

I hope you're safe wherever you are and that this will bring you some joy <333 thanks for this lovely prompt and take care!

Bojan & Kris (romantic or platonic, you choose). 630 words. Rated G.

It's almost as if darkness seeps out of the room instead of light into it when Bojan slowly pushes the door open. It's quiet inside, the only sound the muted breathing from beneath the duvet, but the tempo of it shows Bojan that Kris is not sleeping.

He carefully closes the door behind him. Kris hasn't sent him away yet, so he steps closer to the bed and lowers himself to sit down at his side.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hey," comes Kris's hushed response, belated, after a long pause.

"How are you feeling?"

The bedsheets rustle as Kris shrugs. "Kinda like shit still."

Bojan's chest clenches in sympathy. "I'm sorry." He moves to place the mug he brought on the nightstand. "I made some tea, if you want."

Kris shrugs again. Bojan is glad to see the glass of water empty and the pain killer taken when he glances at the nightstand again.

Tentatively, Bojan reaches out to the few inches of Kris's head that are free from the blanket and cards his fingers through his hair. A gasp escapes Kris that Bojan can't decipher if it's approving of the touch or against it. Only when Kris shifts marginally closer does Bojan assume that he enjoyed it. So he repeats the motion.

Kris sighs now, curling more into himself but thus closer to Bojan too at the gentle touch.

Bojan wishes he could draw the pain out of Kris's head with his fingers alone, pour it down the drain, or throw it out the window, or even absorb it himself, if that meant it could grant Kris a moment of relief. With the increasing stress around all of them, it makes sense that his headaches get worse too. But that doesn't make the sight of it any less painful—and Kris's pain any less tolerable.

Bojan is glad he called him though, and told him about it, instead of calling in sick from another practice and wallowing alone at home. Now he wallowed with Bojan in the kitchen for a bit, then on the couch, before he finally let himself be bullied into bed. Bojan stuck around of course, he’s just going to leave him, but he hoped Kris would've been able to get some sleep by now.

"Wait, let me…" Bojan starts, pulling back the large duvet just enough to climb into bed as well. He leans back against one of the pillows. His hand slips underneath the blanket and settles between Kris's shoulderblades. "Come here," he prompts, patting his lap.

He's glad Kris doesn't have to be told twice. It only takes a little bit of shuffling until Kris is settling between his legs, head pillowed on Bojan's lower stomach, one of his legs drawn up to brush against Bojan's. He nuzzles his face into Bojan's sweater, pushes his nose into it, before finally deflating like a balloon.

"Comfortable?" Bojan asks. Kris gives the smalles nod and mumbles something into the fabric that Bojan can't catch. "What was that?"

Instead of responding, Kris just whines into Bojan's stomach, grabbing and squeezing what he can reach of his thigh. It's a request as any, and thankfully Bojan gets what he wants.

So his hand finds its way to Kris's hair again, brushing through it. Supported by Kris's satisfied sigh, he begins massaging his scalp too. Kris squeezes his thigh again and leans into the touch.

"It's gonna be okay," Bojan whispers into the dark room. "You'll feel better soon. Try to sleep, okay?"

Kris does his best to nod. It's only a few minutes of this until Kris's grasp on his thigh slacks and his breathing evens out into the slow in-and-out Bojan is used to from sharing a bed with him.

[ar-cadez]

Negaverse Megavolt concept!

Design notes and personality rant stuff under the cut. Warning. It's long and unreadable.

The purse thing is a generator (Ill probably design it as a prop at some point considering It does NOT look like one but portable generators are hard for me to draw for some reason)

I swapped which eye has the white in it (even though I usually draw it on the wrong side anyway bc idk my lefts from rights..)

I wanted to make the darks very prominent bc the yellows are very prominent in the original

I went with blues bc it's the only other colour usually associated with lightning and electricity.

The teal parts of his outfit are lights! They glow when he's fully charged and fade out when he's out of power.

You can't see it in this pose but his hands have outlets on the back that work the same as megavolt's chest outlet. He can power weapons with them and charge himself without the pain of straight up shocking himself

I wanted to make his hair look like it's thinning out bc of age and repeated electrical damage but I wasn't sure how to do that so it's not really present. Did give him some white hair though.

His glasses are prescription! Can't see nothin without em..

Okay now some personality stuff!

Megavolt is the hardest villain to swap bc his personality is "insane guy with memory issues but is smart" and it's kinda hard to flip that around without just making him boring? Removing his intelligence when it comes to electricity would also negate his whole gimmick which makes things worse. but I do have a few ideas. It's ironic I struggle with him so much considering he's literally my favourite character...

He was popular in high school. He was friends with negaduck and they were both pretty well liked jock types before negaduck started doing major crimes (though I imagine he was always a delinquent of sorts. Just didn't start destroying the city till he graduated) clash reunion is a whole beast on it's own bc megavolt has the most in depth backstory which means a lot of reworking for a personality swap au.

His interests, like dw's megavolt, lie in magnesium, electronics, and engineering. The difference is, despite being Intruiged by these subjects, he didn't go out of his way to learn about the. He was more focused on his peers approval back then. Not to mention the fact that negaduck was an extremely toxic friend and would absolutely make fun of him constantly for it. (He doesn't even actually care, he's just an asshole.)

Eventually after gaining his abilities he began to study electricity and start inventing things. Only.. He's pretty bad at it. Things tend to backfire on him. Quackerjack has a lot more experience than him when it comes to engineering and he tries to help him out but the guy's kinda cursed. I haven't really decided if it's more dt17 gyro where everything he makes ends up turning against him or guy am I from the Netflix green eggs and ham show where everything he makes just kinda explodes. Maybe a bit of both. Either way it's very over the top and is more trouble than it's worth, but that doesn't stop him! (Oh God someone stop him)

I didn't wanna just take away his mental issues completely because the opposite of that is literally nothing. It adds.. Nothing. It just gives him less to work with. And it's already hard enough to do this guy. (Plus it kinda implies mentally ill people can't be heroes and that's.. Mm....) So instead I decided to change how he reacts to it.

He still has memory issues along with other physical and mental symptoms of electrical injury, he just really likes to pretend he doesn't. He completely ignores his deteriorating mental, physical, and emotional health <33

I wanna flesh him out more but I'd only be able to do that if I write with him and I'm fantastic at procrastinating my writing projects <33

[cardo-de-comer]

Hi Cardo, I've just read on twitter that you've been ill lately and struggling with depression. I wanted to send you strength and I hope things get better for you soon.

I love your art so much and it always brings me joy to see your illustrations on my timeline. you're truly one of my favourite artists and I love your use of colour, I love your compositions, how intriguing your characters are... I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like there's an entire mythology behind every single one of your illustrations, and I find that fascinating.

I've had one of your illustrations as a wallpaper for my latpop for like a month now, and everytime I switch my laptop on to do work, it brings me joy because I see your beautiful art, even if I'm not motivated to do work. A few people sitting next to me in the library/other places have seen my screen and they've told me the illustration is really cool. Someone even asked me where I the illustration is from, so I know I'm not the only one who enjoys it.

Anyway, I truly hope you feel better soon. I struggle with anxiety myself, so I know those things don't magically go away, but at least I hope you can have easier days —more tolerable ones.

Stay safe and thank you for creating your art and sharing it with the world. Some of us really enjoy seeing it and it does make a difference :)

hey! well this kinda hit me like a truck but in a positive way. :_)

i don't even know how to thank you properly in a way that shows my gratitude, like i want to thank you for reaching out and writing all this and i still cannot wrap my head around the fact that. there's people who look at my art like daily or it makes them feel things... it means a lot to me really, that's one of the reasons to try and not give up just yet. i don't like sharing my mental problems online bc i figured that's not what ppl wanna see but sometimes it's getting so bad i stop caring for a moment. it was a rough month and idk if it's getting better but i always find some escape in art. as i said before, i won't stop drawing until the end and i feel like it's worth it when i hear from someone that they really like what i do. idk where i'm going with this, my brain is fried today with meds and i start to ramble but once again thank you for your words and i hope you have a nice week <3

[alygator77]

you know what?? i’m soooo thinking about clanhead!gojo rn but more-so about the reader 😭😭 when in the blurb/drabble at the very end you wrote satoru was beginning to crave more than just her body but *her*.. it would be soooOoooOoo funny if he.. idk.. began noticing, like, a shift in the reader.. as in she maybe starts getting used to it, getting used to him not touching her after fucking, she doesn’t even stay hopeful for it, it’s just what’s normal by now, gets used to everything, makes peace with it. (Idon’t even know how to explain it) but maybe using the word dissociating is wrong here but all of this to say is this starts happening when HE begins to crave just *her* instead of her body, yk?? And then Satoru’s tweaking and crashing out because he can’t even admit these feelings to himself and what is haaaaappening all of the sudden??

because reader deserves an emotional connection!! (And maybe.. just maybe… men should always suffer more than women 🤭🤭✊) and then boom, fluff begins and they skip happily into the sunset 🙂‍↕️

tldr: me being insanely delusional and pretending not to read the angst in the content warnings LMFAOOOO

I’m sorry this made zero sense i had to word vomit otherwise my brain would’ve exploded.

But please don’t think i don’t like or don’t enjoy the fic because I DOOO, i love your writings and i like the first chapter, and i will absolutely eat it and the other parts up! Satoru is satoru and he’s still YUMMY AND HOT AND SEXY MUAH but i will always stand for women (readers) first! ✊✋ 😭😭 anyway again i’m sorry i literally love your page and i just recently discovered it! I hope you’re doing well! 🫶 muaaaah

hi bb, firstly thank you soooo much for your ask—i just adore you MUAH! 😘

omggg i feel you though girl, bc poor reader 😭 she is just being used for her body 😔 she absolutely doesn't deserve that. to play devils advocate... i'd say it's just such an unfortunate set of circumstances. bc satoru is being forced to do something he doesn't want, so he's just trying to look at it through the lens of "fine fuck it... what's in it for me?" however, that's pretty selfish of him tbh?! ☹️ he's got a lot of growing to do for sure.

ahhhh i totally know what you mean though. kinda like, he gets a taste of his own actions. like her slowly pulling away makes him crave more of that intimacy. he's definitely gonna struggle with his feelings, bc good lord he has NO clue how to even DO love 🥲 losing suguru kinda fucked him up. poor pookie.

LOL i feel you on the angst though. this is like, my first true angsty fic 😣 well... at least compared to other stuff i've written—i'm a fluff lover and a hopeless romantic through and through. i'm very excited to expand my writing though and explore something new!! hopefully you'll enjoy my take on angst (with comfort) 🫶🏻

reader definitely has a lot of growing to do too. poor girl had no voice—no identity with her mother. all in good time tho! 😉

i'm SO happy you enjoyed the first part. you are literally so flippin sweet 😭 tysm for checking out my blog—i'm excited to hear your thoughts on whats to come!

-aly 💕

[yunazxxx]

“you didn’t sleep again?” the red haired girl asked, “you didn’t eat again?” the brunette asked back. — meret manon x lara raj

cw ; angsty fluff, heavy topics (depression, struggles with mental health, feeling alone etc), established relationship (girlfriends), comforting, crying moments but not too many, physical affection (hugging, kissing, hand holding), manon lets lara cry on her shoulder at one point, lara wipes manon's tears at another, mentions of a eating disorder, kinda includes all of the girls, etc maybe

syponosis ; it's been no secret that the girls in katseye have suffered endlessly ever since the release of popstar academy, but even once th other members hate began to slow down it only picked up for manon and lara.

wc ; well over 1.5k

an - i want to first say this again, this story contains a lot of heavy topics if you cant handle that please take care of yourself and i’ll see you on my next update. this story is complete fiction, minus what can be proven as true. majority of this can genuinely take place but we don’t know that for sure if any of these have actually with these girls in specific. p.s not proofread bc im writing this at like 3am ntfm

—

it was 3:45 am, lara was still up on her phone, scrolling away on social media. she was laying in a fetal position due to how sick she felt, her stomach turned as she read comment after comment about herself. they were everything far from joyful comments, ever since geffen released their documentary the girls have been tormented by the media.

normally, lara wouldn't bother herself with reading every single comment, but on all of her social media that's all she'd see or someone calling her racial slurs or anything under that form of disrespect. lara didn't understand why, it had been so long since that recording, she was closer with everyone now, why was she getting so much hate for a small comment she made about her member, manon?

@larrarajj : are you awake? sent at 4:00 am. the redhead didn't know what to do, megan was asleep and it was too early in the morning for her to put anything on to distract herself, no matter what h tried all she could think about was those comments. lara got easily overwhelmed, unsure what to do with herself or anything.

she felt her heart getting heavy, as her eyes began to well with tears when her phone finally chimed.

@manonmeret : yeah, i am. sent at 4:05 am it was a text from manon, lara knew of her habit of almost never sleeping, espcially due to this endless stress they've been under, not ever given the chance to enjoy being ‘katseye’ because everytime they just breathe, they're getting ridiculed.

@larrarajj : can i come see you? - lara really didn't know what to do with herself at this moment, she felt so anxious it made her uncomfortable. she waited for manon's texts, seeing the bubbles pop up but disappear, then a knock was at her door.

she got off her bed and opened it, seeing manon in her comfort hat and a oversized t-shirt along with shorts. lara couldn't see the girl's face clearly, but her voice spoke enough that she had been crying. lara brought the older inside of her room, and hugged her.

manon could feel lara begin to break down in her arms, manon held her as tigh as she could, rubbing her back, "get it out, it's okay.." manon comforted the girl, it was heartbreaking watching lara suffer the way she was.

lara wouldn't ever talk about how she felt, she would always just isolate, or handle it herself, she'd never ask for help, which affected her girlfriend really bad because she'd always be available to assist lara, however she needed it.

anytime she'd ask if lara was okay, she'd just reply "oh i'm fine" but manon could see her about to break down, she'd bite her lip majority of the time or just nod because she could feel herself about to lose it. lara had her reasons, because yeah what she was getting was terrible, but she also got ahold of what was being said about the other girs, and those really messed her up.

when she did see happy comments about her and the girls, it'd only be about five of them, never including manon because everyone would berate her name ad drag it through the mud like she was nothing, lara wanted to speak out about it so bad, but she couldn't.

it made her feel so guilty, watching manon go through it every single day. as mentioned before, manon stopped sleeping. she was never calm enough to be able to sleep, she always felt so on edge that it fucked with her. manon started spending more money on energy drinks, catching the attention of the other girls.

sophia stopped her one day, seeing the stuff she had bought, asking why did she need so may. manon couldn't lie and say school, her and sophia graduated the same year, she would lie and say practice, or she was buying them for daniela too.

it wasn't like daniea didn't know of manon's habit, she roomed wth her, so obviously she knew. it really concerned daniela, so she began sleeping beside manon or letting manon lay in her bed so she could get a litte bit of sleep but as it got worse, not even that would help her.

manon would be up for hours, just writing in her journal. it wouldn't ever be something specfic, but as you read, you can her spiral mentally. infront of a camera, and seeig her laugh and smile you wouldn't ever guess that this is what she was going through.

lara lifted her head off of manon shoulder, manon just looked ather, with a frown but smile on her face, she looked reassuring, saying to her girlfriend, "you know, it's okay to get it out. we all need to talk to somene about what we're struggiling with." maon said, rubbing her girlfiends's back while she held her hands.

the pair was sitting on the bdnow, lara was fidgeting, but she didn't even know why. "hey, calm down, breathe" manon said gently to the panicked girl, she and lara took a deep breathe together, while manon was calming lara down she felt a tear fall down her face and lara wiped her tear.

lara kissed her cheek, "we're gonna be okay" lara said softly. they stayed with each other for a bit, before the sunrise began. manon took lara to the balcony, they watched the sun rise together. while this happened, lara put her head on manon's shoulder.

"i'm so glad i met you" she said softly, and the brunette nodded, "so am i" and they watched it rise in silence. soon the other girls began to come outof theirrooms, lara and manon began treating this as any other day, manon opening a energy drink while lara grabbed her water and gum, as her "meal for the day"

sophia watched as they did ths, it really made her feel terrible, watching them both sufferthis badly. she knew lara couldn't eat, after reading all of those comments everyday for as long as she would it began to make her so sick she would throw up everytime she ate something to the point where she wouldn't even get hungry.

it began affecting her health terrbly, lara would walk out of her room, she would look tired with bags under her eyes, oversized hoodie on and she'd grab her water then leave again. the most they would ever see of her would be during practice, butshewould get dizzy so easily due to her blood sugar and blood pressure being as low as it would get due to her never gettng enough nutrients.

megan caught on to this, and whenever mega would eat, she would have lara sit next to her and she would feed her older member. to the average person tis may soun ridiculus, but megan watched as lara began to give up on taking care of herself, the same way daniela watched manon.

her and megan did the best they could to help heal them, writing them mall notes and sticking them on their most used devices, notes of motvations, and quotes tha they know, or more hoped, would make them feel better.

overtime, lara and manon got better, it might've been a whole house effort but what mattered was that they started taking care of themselves once again. lara would pick up the habit of sleeping with manon more often, while when manon cooked she would feed lara to make sure she's eating well and would also keep an eye out incase she'd attempt to enduce vomitting.

overtime, things slowly became more normal around the house, lara wouldn't have to be monitorid as often and for manon, she started sleeing better ever since lara started sleeping next to her. even making a joked saying that she really just needed lara so she could feel better.

lara would spend so much more time in their room, that daniela would offer up her bed to lara until she was gone. lara would say it's fine but daniela didn't mind, normally saying she'd go talk to megan or something.

at some point the question was asked, "why didn't you come to me when you felt that way?" manon hd asked her girlfriend, she wasn't attacking her, but was curious what made lara isolate everytime she felt sad or down, "you had your own things to worry about baby, i'd hate to make you worry about more, let alone me" the redhead explained, but the brunette didn't accept it.

"it made me worry more ya'know?" manon said, playing in lara’s hair while the younger's arms were wrapped around her, "i know, didn't mean to though" manon nodded and kissed her head, "i know beautiful, it's okay"

[canmom]

Comics mini-Comints: Dungeon Meshi

reread dungeon meshi through to the end. still such a great manga. here are immediate thoughts - if I end up having time and energy I hope I can write something that goes deeper!

ironically i was only a few chapters from the end when I stopped keeping up, but I was struggling to remember all the characters and context, so reading it through in one go was definitely an ideal way to achieve maximum impact there.

ryoko kui does a very elegant job of handling a transition from 'silly antics' to 'big dramatic fantasy' while still keeping the central thematic throughline - eating and being eaten, belonging to an ecosystem, the significance of sacrificing others to achieve your own desires. a lot of setups pay off in a way that feels meticulously planned - and of course the crux of the final showdown revolves around characters attempting to eat each other, of course the big payoff is a huge feast that symbolically unites all the conflicting factions. it is maybe a bit too neat and happy for my taste, but it's undeniably tightly executed - it never loses sight of what it's about. especially compared to something like Frieren, it's an incredibly coherent serialisation, up there with e.g. Fullmetal Alchemist.

kui's art style deserves all kinds of praise - it feels effortlessly simple, but it clearly communicates all sorts of different shapes and body types and it's really fun to see her play around with remixing the different visual elements when she switches the races around. in general Laius's autistic monster loving ways clearly reflect kui's own deeply felt appreciation for all the ways people and animals live (accentuated further by all the extra sketches the scanlators tuck in). in a way you could kinda call it like Parts Unknown the fantasy manga.

the stakes of the final conflict are interesting - there is much to be said about the framing of 'desire' and its fulfilment, of this occult idea of 'the infinite'. lots you could put in relation to other manga, and also buddhism. (in particular I really want to develop a comparison to Made In Abyss, there are so many parallels, it just might be too spicy for tumblr lmao).

one thing I really like about it is how much its fantasy dungeon-exploring setting owes to D&D and other TTRPGs, rather than videogames. monster ecology has been a fascination of that game since the early days of Dragon magazine, and Kui sharply zeroes in on some of the intrinsic conflicts baked in to that fantasy milieu, notably the lifespan thing, while smartly avoiding the traps of 'evil races'. there's some really fun nods to the weirder monster manual entries. and in a story with so many characters and factions, it does a genuinely incredible job of furnishing everyone with understandable, reasonable motivations, conflicts drawn from their context just like the monsters are explained by their ecology.

and one thing that I particularly appreciate is like... how much it is able to simultaneously understand and sympathise with a character and also show us how and why they'd rub others the wrong way. it's impossible not to like our main group, they're all such charming dorks and the manga leads you along with all the crazy rpg party shit they do, but at the same time you definitely find yourself thinking 'guy's got a point' in the kabru chapters lmao. I'm projecting hard bc i don't really know a thing about ryōko kui but laius def feels like the sort of depiction of having an autism that you can only do if you've lived it.

but yeah, it's a fuzzy ending where it all turns out well. but what's the deeper thrust of it all? there's a funny moment where marcille is like 'maybe in the end our journey is about learning to accept death' and the grouchy old gnome guy completely laughs this off as naive, because death doesn't mean anything. and indeed their big plan pays off, and falin does indeed come back just fine. but still, through all of this it asks you to bite the bullet that being a living creature means eating to survive, at the cost of other creatures, with the other side being that one day you too will be eaten. in contrast to this honest way of being is the beguiling fantasy of infinity, where all your desires are immediately fulfilled - this is shown as a dangerous path of corruption that produces madness and manipulability. having limits and rubbing up against the wishes of others, or 'doing things you don't want to do' as izutsumi's arc puts it, becomes necessary for having some kind of definition as a subject. the thing that makes the demon concrete as an entity is a desire, or appetite, that can't immediately be fulfilled.

of course we can connect this to the idea of narrative conflict. a standard advice for putting together a plot is to ask what each character wants and why they can't get it. wanting something implies movement. and indeed over the course of this story, we see that while having too many desires fulfilled too readily leads to incoherence and callousness, equally a character who is left catatonic as their desires have been eaten by the demon must be reawakened to activity by finding a new desire.

it's kinda Buddhist innit. neither the opulence of the palace nor asceticism. desires are what tie you to the world. but mixed with ecology: what a creature does to find the energy to live is what defines its lifestyle, its form.

this is probably where I'd start talking about entropy gradients and shit if i wasn't typing this on a phone at 1:30am lmao.

but yeah - it's a powerful move to go from 'D&D monster recipe show sendup' to 'living with the inherently violent nature of being an organism fated to live in a finite sum game' and yet Dungeon Meshi makes it feel natural and convincing, while remaining tremendously charming and funny throughout. ryōko kui is definitely some kind of genius, and I can't wait to see what her next act is gonna be. it's all definitely making me appreciate the act of eating a lot more.

next story on my plate is probably The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere, which sounds like it will present a very gnarly thematic contrast.