#its not fixed its going to take a lot of work but i can do it. i can make it work i can work on fixing it and THEY. CAN. HELP

[springseasonie]

Very pretty please: can I get a Park Jisung smut who likes cute little girls, a bit younger than him (18+ tho HELO), shy but pervy, Jisung being a big tit lover and is submissive, gets red and shy when his girl is getting a bit sexyy and shoves his face into her boobs- 😀🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

Running Late (M)

Warnings: sexual content, thick fem reader, big tits (obvi), lots of spit, nipple play(kinda), unprotected sex, sub/shy jisung

Word count: 2,2k

A/N: took way too long to write sorryyyy I hope you like it though 🤭🤭 enjoyed writing this freaky ass req as a big tit haver

“Baby, if you don't hurry we're gonna be late,” Jisung yells from your shared living room. 

“We have more than enough time.” 

Jisung can hear your heels clicking on the floor of your bedroom. All the time, he's confused as to why a girl like you would even be with someone like him. Jisung is the textbook definition of a nerdy shy guy. From the way he dresses to his body glasses to his obsession with video games. You're not that much different from him but, you're like a god in his eyes. Men would fight for you despite your sheepish nature. Your timid and shy attitude is the cutest , but a complete contrast to your outer appearance. 

Jisung hears the door open, your footsteps nearing closer and closer to him. 

“Okay, so what do you think?”

He looks up from his phone, the funny video still playing when he feels himself almost about to faint just at the sight of you. If this were an anime, he would definitely be having a nose bleed. Jisung always loves your figure. He can't help but admit that's his favorite thing about you. You're curvy, thick thighs, tiny waist, big tits. He can feel himself heating up, palms beginning to sweat as he fixes his glasses. Your tits are out, cleavage spilling from the seem, your bra barely doing any work. 

“Ji? Do you like it,” you ask again, this time feeling a bit nervous. Your usual wardrobe consists of frilly skirts, silly sweaters. You never really wear things like this, especially not in public, but you wanted to dress up for him, show yourself in a new light. 

Jisung jumps at the sound of your voice, forcing himself to remove himself from his fantasies. He opens his mouth to speak. The image of you in the shortest dress in your closet paired with your favorite heels is making him horny. Too horny. 

“Y-yeah I like it,” he answers. Jisung feels like a pervert, unable to stop staring at your large chest. Jisung watches as you're about to respond when you just so happen to drop your ring. You bend over, your chest now pouring out of the fabric, cleavage even more intense once you stand back up. Jisung gulped, unable to control his eyes at this point. 

“Are you sure? Is it not too short or anything?” You turn around, showing him the back of the dress, your ass cheeks slightly peeking out from the bottom of the dress. 

Jisung could barely comprehend the words coming out of your mouth. The poor boy has no idea what to do with himself. All he could do was sit there, watching you completely enamored by your presence. His Adams apple bobbed, eyes scanning your body trying to regain his composure. 

“I-its a little short,” he says, clearing his throat after. 

Tilting your head, you look at him confused. “you don't sound too sure.” You spin again, this time keeping your eyes on him. That's when you see his expression change, eyes darting from your ass to your chest. It might be a little short, but he sure isn't going to complain. 

He can feel himself starting to get stiff in his pants. He hates that he can get hard so quickly off of something so little, but you love it. You love how horny you can make him and you love when he tries to hide it. But Jisung is the most obvious man on the planet. “Do you like it Ji?” 

“I..uh..” his face goes red, snapping his eyes shut as you smile at his shyness. You step forward taking this hand as you pull him out of the seat. Jisung rose to his feet, but not without pressing against you like a wall making your chest press on his. The plumpness and softness of your body almost make him moan, the sheer look of them against his body made him want to stop these plans. 

you take a step back, spinning for him again hoping it would help him from being so distracted, but it only made it worse. Jisung could only think about ripping the dress off of you. 

“I just never seen you in anything like this before.”

“Well I wanted to wear something different for a change,” you said. Your face goes hot, eyes averting his gaze as you speak. “And I wanted to look pretty for you,” you mumbled. 

Jisung's heart pounds watching you get shy in the sexiest outfit. It's like you want him to pounce on you

“But you do like the outfit, yes? And it's not too much,” you say, trying to gauge an honest answer.

“I like it…but your ass is out and I would rather it not be,” he says, laughing nervously. 

“Yeah but…It looks like you don't mind.” Jisung gawks at you, tongue poking his cheek as he fixes his glasses. Your eyes flicker between his face and his bulge, his hard on visible. “I can help you. We don't have to go…only if you want.”

Jisung gulps, staring at your lips as he nods slowly. You take his hand, dragging him back to the couch, the shy older boy staring up at you when you climb on top of him like you were his goddess. His eyes went from your face to your chest, breast directly in his face making him all the more hard.

“I want you to touch me Ji,” you said in a quiet voice.

Jisung didn't have to be told twice. His hands immediately went to your chest, brows furrowed as he squeezed the mounds of flesh spilling in his fingers. 

“Good boy,” you whispered. “Wanna see more?” 

“Y-yes.” 

You move Jisung's hands, taking the thin straps of your dress off your arms. Jisung watches as you reach back, unclipping your bra with anticipation. He still feels like a virgin every time he sees you undress. His senses tingling, can't wait to get his hands back on you. Your heavy chest falls, nipples perked and hard just begging to be touched. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath. 

You toss your bra to the side, eyes never leaving the damn beneath you. Jisung watches you, a smile tugging on your lips as you push your breast together, leaning into his face. Jisung threw his glasses off within an instant, throwing his face into your chest like a magnet. He was so hard, practically pulsing underneath you. Precum leaked out his tip, absolutely fucking up his boxers. He could honestly cum right now, face in your tits, ass on his cock. You're not doing anything but offering yourself on a platter telling him he's good, begging him to touch you and he loves it. 

His lips attacked your chest, wet sloppy kisses being left all over your skin. Jisung replaces your hands with his own, staring at you as he sucked your tits, tongue swirling around your nipples. He kneads the flesh in his hands, watching as you bit your lip at his actions. 

“Aw shit,” he groans softly. You're grinding on him, thong so thin it feels like your bare pussy is on his pants. He doesn't know how much he can take like this, tits in his face and your ass on his lap. He might explode. A soft moan slips from your lips as he sucks your nipples harder, brow furrowing. 

“Feels so good,” you sigh breathlessly. “Keep touching me, just like that.” 

Jisung's big eyes looked at you, staring for approval. His pretty lips were wet, chest heaving having you on top of him. He was beginning to lose himself in you and you could tell. His moaning as he sucked and licked your nipples, his rough grip on your breast, hips rutting into yours trying to get himself off in his pants. 

You like watching him be so desperate under your body, looking down on him, the pitiful look in his eyes. “Let me sit on your cock baby,” you mumble, Jisung nodding earnestly. Jisung quickly undid his belt, unzipping his pants immediately after. You watch his hands fumble as he reaches in his boxers taking his hard length out. You always loved how big and thick he was despite his personality. Never cocky or arrogant about it.

“C'mon baby get up for me,” he mumbles, raising your hips from his lap. You watched as he lined himself with your pussy, plunging his thick cock deeper into you. 

He wasted no time attaching his lips back onto your chest, your hips moving up and down. You felt full, the lips on your chest almost being too overstimulating. 

“Fuck keep going just like that,” he groans, brows furrowed in pleasure. You watch him, becoming even more aroused as you watch him stick his tongue out allowing saliva to drip from the muscle all over your breasts. One hand on your hip and the other on your back pushing you closer to his face. Jisung sucks your nipple hard, flicking his tongue on the hard bud right after. 

“Feels so good,” you moan breathlessly. 

His big hand moves from your back to the back of your head, pushing your head to his as he kisses you rough and hard. You decide to test the waters, moving your hand from his shoulder to his neck, wrapping it hesitantly. 

“You like that Ji?” 

“Fuck yes.” He groaned in your mouth, moans and pants spilling all over your lips as you ride him harder, you ass slamming into his lap. Your makeup smudged on his face, pink lip gloss all over his mouth. He leans back down, your breast in hand as he kisses the skin, more spit falling from his tongue making the scene messier than before. 

Through the moans and panting, you hear your phone buzz on the couch, the sound slightly breaking your immersion. You slow down, Jisung looking up at you with furrowed brows then at your phone. 

“Fuck, it's Mark,” you say, breathing heavily. Your phone lights up with another call, then messages. 

Mr. Fucking Lee: hey we've been here for 40 minutes 

Mr. Fucking Lee: you guys almost here?? 

Mr. Fucking Lee: just text me when ur here we're getting a section 

Your eyes remained on the phone reading the notifications. You reached for your phone, but Jisung pushed it away. He wrapped his arms around your body, breast wet with spit smother all over his face as he started to thrust in you again.

“Jisung,” you whimpered, hands gripping his shoulders. “Fuck, I'm so close baby.” 

Jisung whimpers in your chest, the feeling of your body on him making his senses tingle. Your thick thighs on either side of him, the weight of your body on his as you begin to lose strength is satisfying. Being able to feel you lost in pleasure makes him hornier than ever, not slowing his hips for anything. 

You look down at him, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. The visual of him stuffed between your breasts makes you want him even more, and you'll let him have you. 

“Baby please cum in me,” you whine, hips rocking with his as he thrust. 

“Y-yes,” he moans breathlessly. “I love you so much.” 

“Yeah? You love me?” 

Jisung nodded fast, brows knit as he felt his orgasm approaching. You squeeze around him, moans getting louder and louder by every passing second. The second you cum, your body shakes, legs quivering violently as he fucks you with much more vigor. Jisung is desperate, his orgasm closer and closer with every thrust. 

“Cum for me baby, fill me up,” you whimper. 

Your whimper instantly made him fall apart, his hands gripping your body tight as he painted your walls white with a loud moan. He threw his head back, the feeling almost too intense for him as his dick twitches inside you. Jisung finally lets go of you, hand prints in your skin but you love it anyways. 

You lift your body off his, your breasts finally done suffocating him. Jisung looked like he's been through hell and back. Hair messy, face and lips red, tears you didn't even notice standing his cheeks. He looked so pretty like this. 

“You feel better baby,” you ask, staring down at him with kind eyes. 

He nods, hands naturally making its way to your waist. “Fuck…that was amazing.”

Your face gets hot, reaching for the phone he pushed away earlier. It was definitely too late for the both of you to clean up and continue with your plans. “Damn, I don't think we have enough time to get ready,” you mumble. 

“We don't have to go baby,” he says. Jisung licks his lips, scanning your face and chest. “We can just stay…want you to stay here with me.” 

A smirk slides on your face, leaning down to kiss your boyfriend softly. “You're so cute,” you say, voice soft on his lips. 

Throwing your phone to the other side of the couch was all Jisung needed to get the green light. And for the rest of the night, neither one of you answered a phone call or message, wrapped in each other's bodies. 

[angeliteeyes]

More more with the Herta puppets. So I'm not sure I'd you know, but the trailblazer has actually, for some reason, picked up a Herta doll and tried to run away with it. And Madam herta was st first indignant about it but relented outta curiosity 10% and cause of the help with the simulated universe( if you haven't seen it, you can find it on hoyolab ir reddit). The thing is, Oni S/O is 100%, NOT cool with it. The herta puppets may find them annoying, sure, and its not even sure why, but it also sent a distress signal to them. So Oni S/O went Papa Wolf/Mama bear/Protective sibling, and the Trailblazer may now treat Sparkle with far more caution if her illusions can also do the same messed type of stuff Oni S/O's can. On another note, the Herta puppets are now tsundere like towards the Oni S/O, and you may or may not always see at least one puppet walking alongside them

Hehehe... I'm back on the Herta train y'all

(¬ ͜ ͡¬) feels good to come back to this series. Expect a lot of overdramatic jellyfish Herta, along with perhaps the most adorable puppet of all... popipo...

The Herta x Oni Reader - Puppet Rescue!!!

-> Masterlist with all Herta x Oni works

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ah, home sweet home. Admittedly, it kind of hurt your pride that Mei forced you to leave her behind in Penacony... but no worries! As long as you have your precious puppets to mess around with, you can wait. Especially now that you're heading over to see your favorite of them all (don't tell the others that, though).

Puppet #39. Despite how many people think of the several, similarly designed puppets as carbon copies, you've found that they're actually quite unique from one another. This one, for example, has a strange fascination with some digital idol she'd somehow managed to discover—what was their name again... Natsume Miki? No, last time you said that, 39 got really mad at you and stormed off, so probably not it. Well, whatever. You'll just ask them again once you find them.

So... where in the station did they head off to? You run around and around, calling out their name, yet to no avail. Strange, since you've always known them to remain in one room every single day, likely since it's the only one with a music player. Confused, you head over to your and Herta's—the real one's—room.

"Hertaaaaa, I'm home! Ya miss me?" You burst into the room, nearly stumbling to the ground from your speed and joy at the sight of your lover. She looks up at you, sprawled upside down from the side of your bed. For some reason, her face is fixed into a frown, or maybe more of a pout, as she begins to speak.

"Oh, so you finally remember your beloved life partner now that you've wasted twenty minutes running around like a stray dog? I offer you the chance of a lifetime to reunite with your long-lost sibling, and this is how you repay me? Hmph. Honestly, I should sign you up for some lessons in manners." Herta crosses her arms over her chest and turns away indignantly.

"Heh, sorry... I meant to come back sooner, it's just that I couldn't find 39 anywhere. Is she under maintenance or something?"

For a few seconds, she doesn't even speak. Not with her lips, at least; instead, her face does all the work as she turns back toward you with an agape mouth and stunned eyes.

"You can't be serious. You return to my space station—my space station—and you don't even come to see me first? Unbelievable! You're so... ugh, whatever. 39's not here, sorry to disappoint you."

You tilt your head to the side. "Not here?"

"The trailblazer seems to have taken a liking to them as well. They've been rather helpful, so I acquiesced and let them take her back aboard." She stares straight at you with an accusatory glare. "What, are you going to run off again? Don't expect me to let you back in if you do."

Jeez, you knew she had a jealous streak in her, but to this degree? If you go out and get 39 back, she might just actually kick you out for a while. Still... you close your eyes for a moment to ponder. Does she even want to come back in the first place? What if she's happier there, cruising across the vast landscapes of the universe? You pause to give your intuition its chance to weigh in. Right now, they're probably thinking...

[Help me.]

A voice rings through your head, and not your own. With a rush, you realize exactly who it belongs to: 39 herself. Huh, guess that answers your questions. With determination, you open your eyes and meet Herta's.

"I have to save her."

"Wha—Hey!" Before Herta can finish her angry shouting, you burst into a sprint towards the space station's exit. C'mon, you can't just let the poor puppet suffer. What kind of oni would you be if you didn't use your powers for the sake of protecting those you love? Speaking of powers...

You pull out your phone.

"Sparkle, you busy?"

If you had to pick the greatest perk of being a Masked Fool, having such a mischievous friend as Sparkle would easily be your answer. Not only do you get an awful lot of laughs, but she's also surprisingly dependable; that is, she's always willing to lend you a hand whenever you describe a task using words such as "fun" or "interesting". Today is no exception. As you go into details about your plan to steal 39 back, a hearty laughter rings out from your device.

"An opportunity to mess with the Nameless, huh? Oh, I can already imagine their shocked faces when they find out... hehe. Count me in."

-

The Astral Express is known to be welcome to just about any and all visitors. Whether it's for short trips or those who wish to stay for the long haul, the train is so much more than just a machine; it's a home to countless of travelers. Puppet #39, though, doesn't quite see it this same way.

"This place sucks. I want to go back home." She glares up at the Trailblazer, who she now sees as her arch nemesis for taking her away from her precious music player. Said nemesis awkwardly places their hand on the back of their head.

"C'mon, it's not that bad here, is it?"

"It is. And you're weird. Bring me back to the station now."

It took everything in your power not to burst out into tearful laughter at the glorious scene your ears are bearing witness to. It's nice to know that 39's blunt word choices weren't just limited to you, at least. Unfortunately, though, making that much noise would definitely blow your cover. As you wait for the right moment to strike, their one-sided bickering session continues on. For what seems like ages, 39 drones on with complaints with her signature monotone voicebox while the other struggles to appease her. Seriously, what's taking her so long to—

"Heyyyyy! Open up already, I have something to show you!" A certain loud-mouthed girl begins to bang on their door, putting an end to their little spat. You hold your breath and curl tighter into your hiding spot. Meanwhile, the Trailblazer peeks out of their door. A confused expression marks their face.

"March? What's going on?" Instead of responding with words, she instead opts to tug at their raised hand, a motion that pulls their whole body out into the open. The lady smirks down at them as they rapidly try to regain their balance before continuing to drag them along like a poor ragdoll. Well, calling them "poor" is a bit generous, seeing how they stole your precious companion... Still, you watch intently as the two scurry off into the opposite direction. You pay even more attention to the girl's grinning mouth.

"Your turn."

Perfect. Looks like the first half of your plan worked out, now just the hard part: actually getting 39 to leave with you. Who knows how much trouble that little runt's going to cause, though. Seriously... if they weren't so entertaining, you'd probably still be at the station. You sigh. It's hard work being such a kind, considerate person. But of course, since you're the greatest oni anyway, this is a piece of cake.

Step. Step. Step. Slowly but surely, you make your way over to the ajar bedroom door and creak it open. In front of you remains the still extremely bitter (but adorable) 39, facing away from you. You hear her huff.

"I refuse to stay here."

"Then come with me, silly."

It takes a little while for your words to process in her cute puppet head, but when they do, she practically jumps out of her metal skin. She turns to face you with an unreadable expression. You start to shift your legs back and forth under her gaze. Maybe you were right earlier to think that she wouldn't come with you. Sure, she's been whining at them nonstop, but it's not like she didn't do the same exact thing with you back home. Maybe—

A sudden clash startles you out of your thoughts. Clutching onto you tightly, you realize, is none other than the very puppet that always claims to despise you. Yet here she is, burying herself into you quietly. Seriously, what a cutie pie. No wonder she was your favorite.

"...You're better than that weirdo, I guess. Let's go."

-

Surprisingly, Herta didn't seem to make good on their prior threat. Y'know, the one to lock you out and all. Still, as you walk in hand in hand with 39, you catch the way she glares at your intertwined fingers, and a chill runs down your spine. There's no way she's not giving you crap for this later, probably for the rest of your life.

And now she's walking away without a word towards your shared room. You apologize to 39 before hurrying to catch up with Herta's quick strides. You can already feel the anger seeping out of her (as well as hear it with how loudly she's stomping) but push on anyway. She silently makes her way into said room and you, despite the tension, trail in from behind.

"Hey, Herta... you still mad at me?" You try to break the tension with a lighter tone, yet regret it once she gifts you a scornful scowl.

"Wrong. Try again."

You think. "Um... I'm sorry?" Her expression grows even more disdainful and frustrated.

"Closer, but that's not what I'm looking for."

As you examine her more extensively, you notice a deeper emotion beyond just petty anger. It's hidden pretty well, yet the sweat droplet rolling down her skin plus her eyes darting from side to side tell you the truth about what she's feeling. With an exhale, you finally find the right words to soothe her worries.

"I missed you, Herta."

She doesn't express it verbally, but a weight visibly lifts off her body once you utter those words. You smile. For someone so renowned for her intelligence, she sure can be childish sometimes. But that's not an issue; after all, you're hardly any better.

"Well obviously you would miss me! Anyone whose eyes have been blessed with my beauty would feel the same way. It's only natural." Her signature grandiose tone kicks back into gear, much to your delight. She's a lot cuter this way.

"Right, right. Can we go to bed now? I'm sleepy." With a bright grin, she agrees and you two make yourselves comfy within the pink sheets of your bed. You decide that you won't tease her about her extra-tight grip on your form... at least, not until tomorrow morning.

-

A knocking sound at your bedroom door reverberates and stirs you out of your sleep. Curious and confused, you make your way over to the door, opening it to find...

"39?" You stare at her, perplexed. What could she possibly want this early in the morning? From the uncharacteristic twiddling of her fingers, she seems to be having trouble communicating her thoughts. Funny, considering how she normally treats you.

"You. Come with me." Refusing to elaborate, she drags you across the station's halls into her favorite room. Placed within it are her music player, a chair, and a new, full-length mirror. It's only when you two reach her seat that she lets go of your wrist and plops herself down. Then, she points to a set of colorful hair ties.

"Make me have pigtails." Despite her demanding words, her robotic cheeks flush with a color you didn't know they were capable of being. Vaguely, you start to recall her beloved idol and her hairstyle. With a gasp, you raise your voice.

"Don't tell me, are you trying to have the same hairstyle as that Natsume Miki girl?!"

"That's not her name!"

Unbeknownst to you, a collection of other puppets linger at the door. They totally aren't listening in on you or anything! They're just... curious, that's all. Yeah. Who would be jealous of 39 for getting to have you play with their hair? Certainly not them! That's what they'll say to themselves and anyone who asks, at least, as they stick to your side like glue the following day.

You try not to act too smug the first time one of them not-so-subtly complains about a nonexistent tangle. Who says you can't have more than one favorite?

[holleringfromyourrooftops]

Another thing I want to rant about is the House-Thirteen dynamic that I'm starting to love

SPOILERS BELOW

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My GOD I loved the episode "The Dig" (s7 ep18) because it features like two of my most favorite characters: House and Thirteen.

I've always been interested in their duo ever since Thirteen left the team and House was trying to win her back in his own House-like way and it was like a game between them. I loved their fights and my god did I love their fights in this episode in particular.

It started off fun with us also being in the dark about WHY Thirteen was in prison but there was always this sense of tension that something deeper was going on, and all the comedy, and diagnoses was just a distraction to drop a bombshell and my god did it DROP.

Of all the things I expected from Thirteen's mouth, I never expected her to say that she killed a man. And obviously, like House, I jumped to the most normal theories and deluded myself into thinking this might be a lie or the guy did OD, but even then I knew something was wrong. Mostly because Thirteen is an exceptional doctor and I doubt she would let anyone die on her watch without being more fucked up over it.

And my doubts were proven right during the scene where Thirteen was crying in the night and House didn't react and just listened. And that speaks a lot: he didn't pretend he was sleeping, he didn't do anything and simply listened and slowly worked out all the information in his head, further proven when House mentions this ("You don't cry at night...") to Thirteen while he was explaining how the man she killed must've been close to her. House is rarely emotional; he's logical and thinks of everything as puzzles and yet we can also see that he was starting to care deeply for Thirteen, even smiling fondly at her in one the previous scenes. Their relationship dynamic was getting more depth and truly it reached its peak when Thirteen finally revealed why she killed her brother.

House didn't react AGAIN; no witty quips, no revulsion, no anything. He just stood there and listened as Thirteen cried, didn't even offer her a hug---because that's who House is, he's logical, he knows that a hug doesn't fix anything so he didn't offer one despite Thirteen needing one.

The loneliness that Thirteen spoke of, her fear of being alone during her final moments, is something House can truly resonate with. He JUST lost the one person whom he thought was going to stick by him, who he thought would love his twisted, diabolical self and who MADE him a better--more happier--person, made him care more about something other than puzzles---and all of that had come crashing down in the form of Cuddy almost dying. I feel like this was truly the first time House was ever scared shitless, ever scared of losing someone so much that it caused his leg pain to spike up and revert back to Vicodin just to show up and be there for her. He truly went through HELL in just a day, stripped to his rawest form, and then left bleeding in his doorway by the one woman he has ever loved and cared for deeply. Of course House understood Thirteen, he was the embodiment of her fear; alone, with no one--except a half-empty bottle of pills--next to you to numb you, even momentarily, from the pain.

So of course House didn't say anything, because he was in that exact situation and simply, refused to tell the cruel truth that he's so used to telling other people. He didn't even comfort her because he was in shock about what she had revealed and what this had made him realise about himself. All he could do was turn around and go back to the competition. Perhaps it was his way of punishing Thirteen for hurting him and drive in the fact that yes, she was going to be alone and die alone, or perhaps he was running away. Regardless, his inability to take action at that moment and Thirteen's hurt at him for not doing anything was probably what Cuddy felt when he showed up stoned and was there for her.

However at the end, we can see how the parallels between what happened with Cuddy and what happend with Thirteen end where House offers that he could euthanize Thirteen if she wanted him too, thus proving Cuddy wrong about how he hasn't changed, how he couldn't change who he was, when in fact that scene alone proved how House had changed from his past mistakes. He offered to euthanize this person whom he cares deeply about, just because he didn't want her to feel lonely--to feel like he did and still do--doesn't matter that House suffers breakdowns even when he loses even one patient (the woman who got caught under the rubble, I dont remember the exact episode) whom he slightly interacted with (sure maybe you could chalk that upto him and Cuddy fighting), he was still willing to step up and be there for Thirteen, and he said this with the most sincere tone he could muster up. He comforted Thirteen with simply his words, something that House had previously stated he was incapable of, and showed emotional maturity in his relationship with Thirteen.

So yes, House did change and perhaps it was Cuddy breaking up with him that made him change the most---to allow himself to be a part of other people's lives, to empathize and care for them and even TRY to be there for them emotionally even though he had earlier told Wilson that he sucked at comforting people. Or perhaps, House has always been that kind of person and it took him years to finally let that side out.

[moeblob]

i have no idea where the compulsion to giver her a pokemon came from ??? but her and her minccino gotta go make sure her husband stays safe.

[sometimesanequine]

i think going fishing would fix me

[spaceandbones]

Ahhvhhhhhh god you can trust your friends you can lay things on them they can have you and you can let yourself be had. inshallah i never forget that again

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Terribly upset that I am willing to put so much love and effort into a relationship and people aren't willing to put in slightly more than the bare minimum for me

[lacomandante]

.

[skyteglad]

the latest aita is making me sad. the teeth one. because like... when i was a kid, i was told to have braces! and that i'd need an eventual surgery! and because i didn't want to, my parents didn't make me.

that surgery would've changed my life. i'm not fucking kidding. i'm pretty sure 75% of my physical disabilities stem from not getting that surgery. and by the time i was able to bring up trying to have corrective work again, i was two years from losing my insurance, and my parents procrastinated. now it seems like a pipe dream it'll ever happen.

i get being resentful of your parents forcing you to do things you don't want to do, but god damn, if mine had actually really pushed me into getting braces, my life would be so much different and so much better.

[shippingmyworld]

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[omgthatdress]

Sooooo ummmmmmm this is something that's probably going to piss a lot of people off, but I feel like I really need to say it.

If you get a message from an account claiming to be a Palestinian fundraiser, it is a bot. It is a scam. You need to report & delete the message and encourage others to do the same.

I know because I get messages on this account DAILY. I have a very high follower count and I'm pretty active and I interact with my followers a lot, and apparently that all adds up to one big bot magnet.

Bots following and messaging this account was a MASSIVE problem before Tumblr fixed its new account policies. I used to spend literally hours blocking and reporting the hundreds of bots that I would get following me each day.

I learned a lot about bots and how to identify them. The easiest way is with no avatar, "untitled" in the blog description (BTW if your avatar is still set to default PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD change it because you run a substantial risk of being accidentally blocked & reported as a bot).

One of the dead give aways of a bot was what I call "word salad" names. Three seemingly random words strung together making no sense, always adjective, adjective or noun, noun. If you reported a lot of these bots, you'd notice the same words kept showing up.

Nowadays, I am bombarded with fundraiser requests and sometimes, they don't even bother to hide the fact that they're a bot. The avatar is default, the blog title is "untitled," and the blog name is a classic randomly-generated word salad.

However MOST of the requests I get come from at least semi-legit looking accounts. There are pictures, a name, a story. Never mind that I've gotten that message three times from different accounts.

Sometimes, they claim to be vetted, but the whole vetting system essentially adds up to "trust me bro." There is no way of guaranteeing that this account isn't just lying about being vetted, claiming to be vetted by a false person, or are using the identity of a real Palestinian to scam people.

Previously, I've seen a lot of people getting attacked for raising questions about these fundraisers and getting attacked for being racist or for harming Palestinian families in danger, like Tumblr isn't a website famous for its scams and the words "The Arkh Project" "All or Nothing" or "Miss Officer and Mr. Truffles" mean nothing to you.

I personally have been scammed by people claiming to be charities on Tumblr before, specifically, The Leelah Project which used the name of a trans teenager who died by suicide to swindle people out of their money.

Luckily, there are actual, respected charities out there you can give money to if you want to help the cause:

Palestinian Children's Relief Fund

Palestine Red Crescent Society

United Nations Relief Works Agency

Islamic Relief

World Central Kitchen

Médecins Sans Frontièrs

One of the hardest things to accept about the situation in Palestine is that realistically, there is very little that your average outsider can do to change it. However, these large, well-respected and trustworthy charities are out there doing the hard work to keep people alive, and should be where the donation money is going

These scam bots feed on people's naïvety and need to believe that they are making a difference, and even worse, feed on the fear that by ignoring them, it somehow makes you a racist doing direct harm to a refugee family, when in fact they are using the suffering of Palestinians to take away money from those in need.

As far as fundraisers that don't send out random asks for donations, I honestly don't know. You'll have to do the work yourself and approach with much caution.

Be careful out there.

[phagodyke]

urgh.. trying to troubleshoot an assay while my mind feels frozen in amber..its not happening

[luveline]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

you get a good dose, confess your affections, and leave poor, oblivious hotch to fix things up neatly. 

cw painkiller high, light suggestive theme 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“Hello.” 

You lift your gaze without blinking. Hotch is standing in the doorway, making his way in with a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm and a white envelope against his chest. 

“Hello,” he says again, meeting your wide, still eyes with concern. “You okay?” 

“Flowers for me?” 

“You’re the one here in a hospital bed. They’re from me and Jack. He insisted.” 

You nod up and down robotically. Your heart is unhappy today. You’ve been fast and slow and now it’s running fast again, a tip-tip-tip on the heart monitor that makes Hotch frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “They told me you were on a lot of pain medication, you shouldn’t be hurting anymore. Is it not working?” 

“I feel a lot.” 

“And that’s unsettling,” he surmises.

“Can I have my flowers?” 

Hotch offers them to you immediately. “Why don’t you count to a hundred for me?” 

“They’re beautiful, but there’s not that many.” 

“Count to one hundred. I can start. Do you need me to start for you?” 

You dip your face into the flowers. “I love when you say stuff like that.” 

Hotch doesn’t answer you. You begin counting, hoping he’ll say a nice thing if you do as he asked. The numbers get mixed up after thirty five, there really aren’t enough flowers to count to a hundred, but when forty five and fifty four begin to feel like the same number spiritually, Hotch reaches for your forearm and gives it a squeeze. That means job well done. Nobody else in the team gets arm squeezes —they’re for you. Nobody else has noticed, but you have. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

You beam at him. The heart monitor beeps in slow loops. “You’re welcome. Did it help?” 

“I’d say so.” He takes off his suit jacket and puts it over the back of the chair, pulling the chair towards the bed with his foot, and getting comfortable beside you, a little lower down than you but tall regardless. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I can’t believe you got me flowers.” 

“I got you flowers the last time you were injured.” 

“I know,” you say with a laugh. “I know, it was amazing.” 

“Here’s your card from Jack. I’ve opened it for you, I hope that’s okay.” 

“I cannot open anything. I tried to stab my pudding open with a spoon and broke it and can’t find the sharp part in my blankets. I’m worried it’s going to poke me.” 

Hotch stands from his chair. “That’s not good.” 

You take up Jack’s card, pinching the folded printer paper and pulling all of its homemade glory from the envelope. The front has a red heart drawn with bandages wrapped around it, and inside is a message written in impressive penmanship considering his age. To Y/N, it says, Please get well soon. We are hoping you to have a speedy recovery! Love you, Jack and Aaron 

“It says you love me,” you say. 

“Mm, Jack wrote the message. He misses you.” 

You catch the feeling of Hotch’s hand where it slips between your legs and almost burst, giggling excitedly, which makes his hand jump away from you like a fish out of water. “You have the spoon!” 

“Found it. No more danger.” 

“Thank you. I knew you could find it.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

The pain medication Hotch spoke of is starting to make itself known. You hadn’t felt very different to begin with, the only worthy note your absence of pain, but right now you feel weird. Light. Happy, but strange, like the opposite feeling of missing a step. You know something’s wrong and you know it’s the medication, but you’re elated at the same time. Hotch is here. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’ll know. 

“Do you think I feel happy ‘cos of you or the morphine?” you ask. Softly, slurring, you swallow and try not to sound as drunk. “I feel amazing.” 

“It’s the morphine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Well, it’s been a long time since I had some myself, but I remember feeling amazing at the time, and you’re on a lot more of it than I was.” Hotch sets himself back down in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Are you staying for long?” 

“Until they make me leave,” he says. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Yesterday you were here for ten minutes and I felt like my heart was bruised.” 

He doesn’t speak for a moment. His eyes seem darker than usual. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I had to be home to take care of Jack.” 

“I know you had to, it’s not your fault, but I still missed you.” 

You prop Jack’s amazing card on the nightstand with a proud grin. You love Jack Hotchner, he’s the smartest, kindest, sweetest boy you’ve ever met, and it must be because of his parents. You’ve not met Haley many times, but Hotch is amazing. It makes sense that his kid would be just as awesome as he is. Turning your attention back to the flowers, you find the courage to ask, “Do you think you could bring Jack to see me?” 

“I think he might be a little young for hospitals, I’m sorry.” 

“Well, maybe I can see him when I’m out of the hospital? How can I say thank you for the card? Does he still like bears?” 

“He has enough bears,” Hotch says gently. “You don’t need to buy him anything, he just wants you to get better soon.” 

“You’re such a good dad.” Your lashes kiss with the force of your smile. “You’re lovely. Jack is really kind.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re handsome,” you continue, slinking down in the bed. You feel tired but not sleepy, craving a really big, hot sandwich. Hotch holds your gaze. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“What?” he asks quietly. 

“Can you please get me a big, hot sandwich? Maybe with hot chicken? Or spicy chicken in a burrito? I really need it to be hot.” 

Hotch laughs aloud and reaches for your forearm to squeeze you again. “Of course I can. I’ll call Derek and I’ll make him get you both of those things, if you like.” 

“Oh, good. I really really don’t want you to leave but I really want the sandwich more than I want you to stay.” You tip your head to one side. “If you hugged me again I’d say I want you to stay more than I want the sandwich, ‘cos you haven’t hugged me in a long time.” 

“Does that bother you?” he asks, the pad of his thumb working against your wrist. 

“No, I know I’m not supposed to want you to hug me.” 

“We’re friends,” he says, shaking his head, “good friends, aren’t we? It’s alright if you want a hug. I should be better at giving them.” 

When he was with Haley you wouldn’t have dreamed of wanting it, because your affection for him has always been more than a friend‘s. You’ve guarded the secret carefully over the years. What’s more unfair to a wife than to fancy her husband? But Haley left Hotch, and he’s been single for a while now, and you think that lately he’s actively dating. He’s always had pride in his appearance, but his suits are tailored again. His hair is left to grow beyond what’s easily maintained. He and Dave occasionally joke about him getting back out there —he doesn’t need to get out there, you’re right here. 

You can’t help frowning. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I think I’m a bad friend.” 

“You aren’t a bad friend.” 

“I am, I have ulterior motives.” 

Hotch rolls his eyes. “Honey, everybody does. You’re fine. You’re a good friend. You know you’re the sole member of the team who’s remembered Jack’s birthday every year? Remembered mine?” 

“I don’t do that to be a good friend, I just love Jack.” 

His hand slips down to yours. He holds it briefly. “I know you do.” 

“It’s why I remember yours,” you say, shaking your head, annoyed he’s taken his hand back but ready to move on to better things. “Can you ask Derek for my sandwich now, please? Please, please, I’m so hungry I’m gonna die.” 

Hotch gives you a funny look. “How about I go and get you your sandwich? I’ll be very fast. I’ll go to Sam’s across the street, would you like that?” 

“Can I have maybe a donut too?” 

“Sure, honey. I’ll get you a half dozen.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. Do you want any in particular?” 

Hotch goes off to get you a sandwich and you click the button for more morphine without really thinking. You’re asleep before he gets back.

—

You wake up shaking. 

Aaron straightens in his chair. He hadn’t meant to doze off, but it’s nearing the end of your visiting hours and he’s been here since three. Your sandwich is stone cold in the bag and he’s not sure how he’ll get it warmed up.

Your arms are trembling badly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Hotch, where am I?” 

Aaron stands. “You’re in the hospital. You’ve had some morphine and it ended up sedating you. The shaking will calm down soon, but nothing’s wrong, okay?” 

You’re noticeably confused, and Aaron hates it enough to sew his fingers between yours. His are thicker by quite a bit, but he’s used to smaller hands. He’s careful with you. He can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier. 

The undercurrent of fear you’d been harbouring begins to ebb. You let Aaron hold your hand and settle back down into your sheets, turning your face toward him and shutting your eyes. You don’t seem sleepy. He’s not sure what’s wrong. 

When you say you love him, he understands. He loves you, too. He doesn’t think that he’s in love with you, but he could be. He’s had enough guilty daydreams about it, batted them away, moments doing the dishes or at the gym or when you’re standing together working a case, where he forgets to forbid himself the pleasure and imagines you in simple intimacies. He sees himself taking your hand. He pictures waking up to the smell of you on his pillows. When he’s especially pent up and you’ve haunted him with your bare face or a shy smile, he ends the day thinking of you. How he’d kiss your head with just a little of his weight atop you, or a lot. 

And then he feels so horribly wrong for doing it that he resigns himself to the distance between you forever. 

Aaron doesn’t know what you want from him, but he knows he could fall in love with you if given the chance. He has to determine how honest your morphine-confession was, and there’s no time like the present. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. 

“I brought you the donuts and a sandwich, but I’ll have to reheat it. I’m sorry.” 

“Did I ask for a sandwich?” you ask, startled.

“A hot one. You emphasised.” 

“Thank you, Aaron. I don’t think I’m hungry now, I’m kinda queasy.” 

“You had a little bit more morphine than you should’ve.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says under his breath, “that’s not your fault.” 

You squeeze his hand weakly. Any want to draw the truth from you is quickly dwindling. All he wants now is to make sure you’re okay. 

He spills himself closer to you and, without untangling your hands, brings your thin blankets to your shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay. The queasiness won’t last long. In fact, eating might help, but we can wait.” 

“Don’t you have to go home?” 

“No, I can stay if you want me to.” 

“Please, I want you to.” 

“You’re still on the morphine,” he says, rubbing your hand, “I can ask them to lower your dosage if you don’t like it, but you have to remember that it’s keeping you unaware of your pain.” 

You hesitate. “I don’t want it to hurt.” 

“Then it won’t,” he promises. You had more than your fair share of pain. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“This is all I want. For you to look after me.” 

He takes a measured breath. “I would love to look after you.” 

You turn your head half an inch to see him. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” He’s trying to blend the half of him you know at work with the half of him responsible for his outer life, the part of him that flirts with beautiful women at bars, the part of him that loved being a husband. “I don’t know what you want, and now isn’t the time, but,” —he prepares to be brave— “if you want me to look after you, then I will.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.”

“Can you kiss me?” 

His heart skips a beat. “No, honey, I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

“Not even on the head?” 

His stomach aches, but it’s a good feeling. Like worrying you lost something and finding it in the first place you’ve looked. “On the head I can do.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed in wait of his kiss, a light, chaste brush of the lips to your temple. The morphine makes you laugh, a girly, giggly bubble of it as you burrow into the sheets, like he’s tickled you. He’s twice as endeared when you squint at him like you’re waiting. 

“Can I–”

“One more,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead again. “Any more than that and you’ll die of embarrassment when you’re not drugged out of your mind.” 

“I’m not out of my mind. I’m just hallucinating. Or having a great dream.” 

He’s inclined to agree, but he knows with confidence he hasn’t had any heavy medication today. He gives you a fond look and sits back down, obliging you when you scramble to put your hand in his again. It’s a weight he could get used to holding.

“I really like you,” you confess quietly. 

He quite likes you in return. “That’s great, honey. Do you want to talk about it later? Maybe you can have one of your donuts.” 

You don’t take his misdirection as rejection, you just pull his hand to your chest and smile. “No thank you. I can wait.” 

He can wait too. 

[reignpage]

Summary: In which Chiropractor!Toji meets a very pretty client that he just can't help but want to loosen up a little more than usual. Warnings: porn with little plot, smut, 18+, mdni, penetrative sex, cunnilingus, fingering, dub con?, stomach bulge, doggy, wall sex, size kink, dirty talk, Toji talking you through it, lots of praise, personification of the pussay, f!reader, brief spanking, not proofread Word Count: 2.5k

“Alright, I’m gonna put my right hand on your hips and my left on your shoulder. You don’t need to do a thing; just give in to me, yeah?”

Chiropractor!Toji talks you through it. He has to. A) for liability issues, B) to put his clients at ease, C) because he likes the sound of his voice, and D) he likes the blush on his client’s cheeks, the nervous giggling, the shallow breathing, and the shy eyes. 

Chiropractor!Toji knows how he looks: big, tall, muscular and with a scar on his lips. He puts men on edge, threatening their masculinity and hurting their egos. To women, he’s forbidden fruit, that man they giggle to all their friends about, and when they book another appointment, they’re sure to specify that it has to be with him. 

Of course, he doesn’t mind. The ladies tip well, and they generally smell better than the guys. Being lusted over is great and all, but very rarely does he get a woman that actually gets his cock going. 

That’s why, when you come in today, he’s smirking, rolling his sleeves up, and making a mental note to put on a damn good show. 

Chiropractor!Toji listens to the moan that leaves your pretty lips when he bends your hips just right, forcing out a nice, sharp crack and alleviating tension you didn’t even realise you had in your spine. His large hands dig into the plush of your thighs, long digits sure to leave his imprints so you’ll remember him later. They’re dangerously close to the apex of your thighs, and he can see the way you press those legs together as if you’re painfully aware of it. 

Chiropractor!Toji brushes his lips against the shell of your ear. “Hold on tight, ’s gonna hurt a little but you can take it.”

You whimper when he pulls an arm back just as he pushes your shoulder blade forward, fixing the ache that had been there for weeks from poor sleeping habits. Immediately, you feel lighter, tingling from top to bottom from the firm but gentle hands he lays on you. 

“Y’r doing great, sweets,” he assures you. “Y’r body’s behaving real good for me.”

The room’s getting hotter and smaller, and you’re aware of every move he makes, every shuffle, every graze of his touch down your spine, your arms, your thighs. He’s bending you into all sorts of different shapes and positions, pushing your body to its limits, making you feel the soreness, the burn, before he lets you feel the relief of release. 

“Ya been looking at a screen for hours every day, haven’t ya? Yeah, I can tell. Y’r all tense and tight. God, doll, you’re way too tight. Good thing you came in today —breathe out for me one, two, three ngh! good girl— this woulda been bothering you a while, huh?”

Breathless and overheating, you smile. “Y-yeah. Sorry. I have an —oh! fuck that feels good— o-office job, so I’m always slumped at my desk.”

Chiropractor!Toji tuts, still working through the hard balls of tension in your back. “Tsk, that just won’t do. A body like this needs to be taken care of. Let me loosen you up, yeah? Let me work my magic and get all those knots out for you.”

Chiropractor!Toji has you all limp like a deflated balloon in no time. You’re just about to sit up and tip him for his quality work when you see him standing over you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. A heavy hand slides up the inside of your thigh through your leggings, thumb tickling the seam right against your clothed pussy. 

His hand is hot, and it's practically scalding with the way he's teasing your body. It's wrong, and you both know you're crossing a line, but the way he moves, smiles, and presses in just right has you growing lightheaded and suddenly, logic, reason, and shame fly out the window. 

“Y’know," he begins, head tilting to eye you under the clinical white light, "I offer a special service for tougher cases like you. You up for it?”

When you nod eagerly, you only have half a second to ponder whether you’re making a wise decision before you’re being wrangled onto your knees on the bench, leggings and panties yanked down your thighs, and a face stuffed in your pussy. 

“You been soaked this entire time? Dirty girl,” he growls into your leaking hole before he slurps your juices up, tongue slithering against your prominent clit, which pulses with your desire. Sucking that button with pressure that makes your back arch, he pushes two thick fingers inside, curling at the perfect time to make you cream all over his face. “God, you smell so damn good, ma. K-knew you would. Tastes even better too. ’s my lucky day a sexy client like you walked in, no?”

Pink tongue traces your slit, tip prodding at your clit. You're coating his tastebud, and his eyes roll back, thick cock weighing heavy. Palming his length to alleviate the ache there, he sucks and slurps to bring you to your orgasm quicker, so he can fuck another one out of you faster. 

Wailing his name and attempting to crawl away from the overwhelming pleasure emanating from your swollen cunt, you beg, “Wait! Toji, ah, too much! It’s too much, please!”

SMACK! 

Burning heat radiates on your left asscheek, tingling with the slap he laid there. Just as quickly, he sweetly soothes the skin in a way only he could. The pain had you squeezing down on his fingers, and he growled at the tantalising tightness you teased him with. 

Chiropractor!Toji warns, “Y’r not going anywhere, doll. Still haven’t worked out the knots inside this sloppy pussy so behave.”

He’s massaging your gummy walls, bullying that soft spot inside you and, like a hawk, watches the drops of your wetness coat the leather surface you’re on. Groping the smooth globe of your ass, he assures you, “Y’r doing great. Y’r doing so great. Yeah, that’s it, ride my face. Well done.”

"Oh shit, Toji, fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk!"

Chiropractor!Toji expertly draws out your orgasm with a thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit and a tongue shoved inside your cunt, scarred lip twitching at the deeply satisfied sounds coming out of both ends of your body. Laying a final peck on your twitching clit, he kneels behind you and shoves his pants down. 

A sigh leaves his shiny lips, head dizzy with the satisfying squeeze of his base and balls. God, he can't wait to feel your warm walls, wet and pleated, hug him, milking him for all he's worth. 

Looking behind you, you’re met with the godly sight of his chiselled torso, shiny with a thin layer of sweat, well-defined abs, sharp v-line, and dangerously delicious-looking treasure trail. He frees his cock, and the long, girthy thing leaks like crazy, all red and swollen at the head. A huge pair of balls accompany it, swinging when the man adjusts himself behind you, sending a cocky wink your way. 

“I know that look on y’r face. You thinking I’m too big, aren’t ya? Don’t worry y'r pretty little head, doll. Toji here’s gonna make it fit. Remember what I taught you at the start: breathe deep, in and out, and let your body relax. Y’r in good hands.”

He wraps it in a condom, gives it a tug or two, and then he’s lining up his cock and entering you. The stretch stings. Truly massive, your pussy’s being stretched to its limits as he thrusts his way in, forcing your gummy walls to accommodate his shape, moulding and shaping you to fit him perfectly. 

Chiropractor!Toji’s calloused hand climbs up your chest from under your shirt and cups a tit, squeezing and pinching like he’s doing a health check. “Got a real nice body, ma. Good for ya. Alright, I’m almost all in. Uh uh, don’t be complaining. You know, I wouldn’t give you m-more than you could handle, so inhale for me, yep, three, two, one, and exhale, good girl. Hnghhh, yeah, t-there you go. All in.”

Chiropractor!Toji doesn’t give you any warning before he’s pummelling inside you like your pussy owes him money. An unforgiving hand pushes down your back, creating the perfect arch so he can reach even deeper, and he rewards you with slow grind, really letting you feel the way his tip is hitting a delectable spot and making you see stars. 

His balls kiss your clit with just how closely pressed he is, and you're suffocating on his length, choking on it, and you find yourself drooling, pushing back into him. 

Then, he's thrusting like there’s no tomorrow again. 

“Ah, wait, Toji! You’re being too rough, I’m moving! Oh oh oh, fuckkkkk, yesss, harder!”

You’re being shoved forward, forced to crawl on all fours, with every rough barrage he forces inside, slipping and sliding with your brimming wetness and the steam on the leather. Deafened to your complaints, he smacks smacks smacks into you. 

The crowned tip of his giant cockhead is pulled all the way to the first ring of tight muscle at your entrance, greedy walls squeezing around nothing for just a second, and when you're panting, arms wobbling, he pushes all the way back in, practically kissing your cervix. 

“Ha, that’s it, take it like a pro, atta girl. Fuck, don’t clamp down on me -ngh- like that.”

In a wet blink, your hands are holding up your body from the floor, hips lifted by his strong hands as he continues to fuck you all while you’re upside down. He doesn’t seem to care, too busy watching your swollen lips swallow his thick length, desperate to gobble him up. "Look at 'er. Nasty thing, ain't she? Spitting and -hah fuck- d-drooling all over me. Pretty -shit so fucking tight, loosen up baby, there you go- p-pretty thing."

Chiropractor!Toji grows tired of your pathetic attempts to crawl away. Tutting, he spins you around with just one hand, carrying you up and letting all that blood flow right back down until you're deliriously lightheaded and in his arms. "Alright, alright, big streeetch for me, yeah there you go."

He shoves you against the wall, leggings all the way off now, and you have no idea where and when. 

Filling up your entire view, with strands of hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat running down his temple, and the lip he’s biting to keep from grunting too loud. The visual attack is too much, and you moan. “Gotta keep quiet, doll. Walls aren’t thin, but they ain’t soundproof either. C’mere.”

He’s covering your mouth with his, swallowing your whimpers and whinings, distracting you with his messy kissing and crude sucking. Arms wrapped around his thick neck, you can do nothing but cling to him and try to hold on while he shoves his length back inside in one smooth thrust, squelching much louder than your heavy pants now.

“Y’r still too tense; we gotta work on this mess, don’t we?” He thumbs your clit once more, licking a long and wet stripe up your neck. “Yeah, bounce on my cock, sweet thing. Ha, y’r pretty damn flexible, aren’t ya?”

Chiropractor!Toji thinks it’s absolutely hilarious the way you’re crossed-eyed, drooling and digging your nails into his back. It’s all the signs he’s looking for to know he’s working you in good. After all, when you’ve gotten a couple more orgasms out of this, he wants you to feel so fucked out that you’re practically dragging yourself out with noodles for legs. 

Swiping a tongue across his scar, he eyes the bulge he's fucking into you. Pressing down hard, he grunts when you clamp down so damn tight it knocks the wind out of his lungs. "Look how tiny you are. Y'r damn head's smaller than my bicep. Could snuff the light out of you right here, and you'd thank me, wouldn't ya?"

"Yes, God, Toji, you're soooo big. Fuck, more. Please!"

Chiropractor!Toji doubles his speed, making sure to angle his hips perfectly. When you throw your head back, he sucks at a sensitive spot on your neck, indulging in your sweet scent and heat.

Your eyes are wide open and a permanent O hangs your jaw low. “Oh! Toji, fuck, I’m gonna -ah ah, yes, right there- cum!”

“Go on, then. Show me how good I’m making you feel. Yeah, that’s it. Just like that. Ah, shit, so fucking tight, fuck!”

Chiropractor!Toji grunts when your pussy clamps down on him in irregular pulses, threatening to squeeze all his stored-up cum right out with you. You’re babbling expressions of gratitude, crying about how amazing his cock is, how full you feel, and how hot, hard, and big his body is. 

Pretty little thing has a size kink, clearly. 

"That looked like a good one, ha. Feel better? Hmm? Feel that tightness in your stomach go?"

It's a shame, he thinks, that his cum isn't painting your walls white; instead, it's pooling in the condom. Next time, maybe.

Chiropractor!Toji wrings out three more orgasms from you with enough time to spare in your session for final touch-ups. 

You’re a very satisfied customer, still riding the high of his magical cock with glossy eyes and lips, when he’s massaging any and every last remaining knot in your shoulders —clothes fitted right back on your body and sweat wiped from your skin with a towel he had prepared— before he sends you off on your way so he can clean up in time for his next client. 

“Ya did good, kid. Be sure to come back in a couple of weeks, alright? Your body’s a temple and it needs regular maintenance.”

Smiling, you hand him a wad of cash as a tip so large he whistles and grins at you. “Thank you for your help, Toji. Really. I feel so much lighter now.”

“Don’t mention it. Better not be hitting up any other chiropractors, while you’re away too. Trust me, nobody’s gonna take care of you like I do.”

A visit to Chiropractor!Toji turns from every couple weeks to every week, and soon you were seeing him every day — in his studio, in his car, his place, yours, and all over the goddamn city. 

He has a way of making you need his touch like a drug, like if you didn’t get a good pounding from him, you weren’t going to be able to sleep well at all, and you’ll be a zombie at work the next day. So, you don’t take that chance. You take him like a pill every day.

Though taking care of you has added a lot to his plate, he’s not complaining. Just like he said, women tip well. 

And you’re no exception. 

That's all it was. He's the maintenance guy who loosens all the knots your stressful life creates, and you're the woman he can count on for a generous tip. 

Neither of you mention the fact that you haven’t paid for his services for weeks now nor that he brings you flowers regularly, kisses your lips before he cums, and no longer offers his ‘special service’ to anyone else. 

The only happy ending Chiropractor!Toji's handing out now is the one he shares with you. 

[kakashisbabymama218]

lol so this ended up being wayyy longer than i expected, just under 3k

Also, not edited so hopefully there aren’t many mistakes! If so I’ll fix it when I wake up cause ya girl is sleepy lol.

You can read part 1 here

you were barely halfway through your shift when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. you decide to ignore it for now, instead getting back to the task you were working on.

its ten minutes later when you're able to take your break, you head out towards the parking lot, seeing your car parked in the middle of the sea of cars and walk over towards it, unlocking the door and sitting down in the drivers seat.

you pull your phone out from your pocket and open it, noticing a new text message from katsuki. your fingers instantly click on the notification only to see its a video he sent.

you remember he said something about going to a party with eijirou and denki and figure its just a video of the three of them drunk off their ass and yelling into the camera or something like it usually is.

however, when you click play it doesn't take long for you to realize that this is not anything like the normal videos you receive. your eyes widen instantly and your head snaps up, looking back and forth and even behind you just to be safe, making sure no one else is in the parking lot before your eyes are dropping back down to your phone just in time to see katsuki pushing his pants down on his hips and his cock springing free.

your mouth waters at the sight, your legs squeezing together instinctively, eyes glued to the phone. you swallow as he takes his length into his hands, letting his hand drag up and down his dick and your ears perk up at the sound of him groaning softly in the background, hands instantly moving to turn the volume up all the way, wanting to hear each and every sounds that falls from his lips as he pleasures himself.

his thumb rubs at his tip, smearing the precum that dripped from his tip along the purplish tip and you can practically taste him on your tongue.

katsuki lets his dick go, and you watch , eyes moving along with it as if hypnotized, as it bounces up and down softly before settling. movement above catches your attention and you watch as katsuki begins racking his nails up and down his stomach, something you know he loves when you do it to him.

the hand that isn't holding your phone moves down to your legs, rubbing your thighs as you continue to watch katsuki touch himself.

you jump the first time he says something, not prepared for him to talk.

“fuckkk pretty girl—” and shit he already sounds so fucked out and he's barely even started.

your hand begins to slip inside the waistband of your pants, wanting nothing more than to give throbbing clit the attention its begging for when the quiet rumbling of an engine pulls your attention away from the video, your head raising as you see a car pull into the spot directly next to you and you immediately click out of the video, pulling up a random app you have on your phone as your cheeks heat up at the fact that you were really about to play with your pussy in the parking lot of you job.

after a minute or two you glance over at woman in the car next to you, wishing she'd hurry up and get out already so you can keep watching the video, but she's looking down at her phone and you can tell she's not going anywhere anytime soon. you let out a groan and look around the parking lot wishing she parked literally anywhere else.

your damp panties cling to you uncomfortably and you squeeze your legs together to get some sort of friction to your throbbing clit, silently reminding yourself that you are in fact in public so you cant actually make yourself cum.

the sound of a car door opening pulls you from the ache in your pants and you see the woman getting out of her car, closing the door behind herself and walking in the direction of your job.

alone again, you do another quick sweep of the parking lot, making sure there's no one around before your clicking back over to the video.

“wish it was you bouncing on this dick”

and fuck so do you, you wanna feel the fullness you feel everytime you sink down on katsuki's fat cock, the stinging stretch you feel no matter how many fingers katsuki uses to stretch you out or how long he preps you for. he's just so... thick, that it always brings a painful kind of pleasure.

 “don’t worry pretty girl, imma come stretch that pussy out when you get off”

at the reminder of your job your head raises. you take your bottom lip between your teeth, debating.

you leaving early wouldn't really be that bad, you guys were overstaffed for it to be such a slow night, and you have complete faith in your coworkers that they can handle the rest of the night without you.

it doesn't take you long to make you're decision, you're completely exiting off of the video and stuffing your phone back into your pocket, not bothering to finish the video, you'll be getting the real thing soon anyway.

you head back inside of your job, going towards your managers office and knocking. after telling her some shitty excuse about having a family emergency and how you have to go you grab your stuff, calling out a goodbye to your coworkers before you back outside and speed walking to your car.

you know katsuki is at his place because of the message he sent you after sending the video.

this party sucks. going back home, come over when you get off.

luckily his apartment wasn't too far from your job and in less than ten minutes you're pulling up to the familiar building. you park and hurry towards the door, using the key katsuki gave you to let yourself in.

you take the stairs up to the third floor, not bothering with the elevator until you're standing in front of katsuki's door. you fumble around with your keys a little before finding the right one and pushing it into the key hole, twisting it until it clicks. You walk inside, toeing your shoes off at the door.

its dark inside, the only light inside coming from the small space under katsuki's bedroom door. you hear him curse before he's calling someone a shitty extra and you figure he's playing his game.

you make your way to the door, pushing it open, flooding the dark hallway with light. katsuki's head turns at the sound of his door being opened and a surprised look crosses his face. he turns his headset off and sets it down before turning back towards you.

he glances up at the clock on the wall above your head and back down at you.

"what are you doing here so early? I thought you didn't get off for three more hours." he says but you don't respond, instead you're taking his controller in your hand and tossing it onto his bed before crawling into his lap.

your hands tangle in his blonde strands as you press your lips into his. katsuki's hands find your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses you back, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. your lips part instantly and katsuki doesn't hesitate, pushing his tongue into your mouth and slotting it against yours.

he tastes like mint with the lingering taste of weed and you moan at the combination, tugging on his hair as you grind yourself down against his growing erection, groaning at the clothing barrier that separates the two of you.

you pull away to mess with the strands of his sweatpants, untying them before trying to push them down. katsuki lifts his hips off of the chair, helping you pull his pants down enough to free his cock.

"you didn't answer my question" he says, watching you spit in your hand before wrapping it around his length. "what are you doing here so early?"

you don't answer, too focused on pumping him fast, your grip tight as you stare down at his cock.

he takes your jaw between his hands, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing you to look up at him. the hand you have wrapped tightly around his cock pauses as you stare into his red eyes, darkened with arousal.

"don't tell me you left work early just to get some dick. fuckin cock slut."

the words are mean but they're completely true, you did leave work early to get fucked and you were a cock slut— his cock slut.

"i saw your video" you tell him, as you begin moving your hand again, slower this time but your grip still just as tight. katsuki smirks.

"yeah?" he questions, tilting his head to the side. you hear him suck in a breath when you begin thumbing at his tip, smearing his precum the same way you say him do in the video.

"yeah. got so turned on i was ready to finger myself right there in the parking lot. probably woulda if someone didn't park next to me"

katsuki's dick twitches in your hand at the mental image of your spread out in the backseat of your car, fingers pumping in and out of your tight pussy as you watch him jerk off for you.

you let out a surprised yelp when katsuki places his hands on your ass before lifting you both out of the chair, he walks the few steps over towards his bed. he tosses you onto the soft mattress before pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere in the room.

he crawls onto the bed, settling himself between your legs, his head directly in front of your clothed cunt. he drags his finger up and down your slit, feeling the warmth even through the layers of clothes you have.

in one swift motion, he has your legs pushed up with your knees by your head, pulling both your pants and panties down at the same time until they're pooling at your feet, you kick them off the rest of the way, letting the drop to the floor as katsuki takes his place between your legs once again.

the first lick against your sensitive clit was too much, after being ignored for so long the pleasure of finally being touched is almost enough to make you cum right then and there. your back arches off the bed, hands yanking at katsuki's hair.

his eyes are focused on your face, watching as your mouth falls open in a long moan when he takes your clit between his lips and starts to suck and slurp at the bundle of nerves.

"shit katsuki—fuck" you grind your hips up against his face, one of your hands coming to push your shirt and bra up over your chest, freeing your tits to the cool air circulating throughout the room, knowing katsuki likes the cold. your nipples harden even more when the cold air hits them and you take one of them between your fingers, pinching and rolling the nub as katsuki laps at your clit.

it doesn't take long— it never does, not when katsuki is sucking on your clit just right—for you to feel the familiar tightening in your tummy, your toes curling as you moan out a pathetic broken version of his name. two of katsuki's thick fingers plunge inside of you, he doesn't give you time to adjust as he curls his fingers upwards, looking for that spot that'll have you screaming out his name in seconds.

he knows he's found it when you're crying out and trying to close your legs around his head. he focuses his thrusts on the same spot, over and over again until your back is rising off the bed completely and your screaming out his name.

he continues lapping at your cunt, drinking down every drop of slick that gushes out of you as you cum on his tongue. his fingers slow down but never stop moving as he helps you ride out your orgasm. you're panting by the time he moves his head from between your legs, instead moving to lay next to you on the bed, his hand stroking his cock as he spreads his legs.

"cmon pretty girl, want you to ride me" he says, licking his lips and patting his lap.

you swing your leg over his, feeling his hard cock under your cunt and you grind back and forth, hissing and letting your head fall against his shoulder when it rubs against your overly sensitive clit.

you lift yourself up as katsuki lines himself up with your opening. you moan out in unison as you begin sinking down onto his cock. katsuki has to stop himself from wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest and fucking up into you fast and hard.

he'll let you take the lead... for now that is.

your hands find his chest, feeling his muscles under your fingers and you barely have to think before you're dragging your fingers up and down his pecks, letting them slide down to the tiny red marks on his stomach from where he scratched himself earlier at the party.

you lift yourself up on shaky knees, before sinking right back down, still not taking the whole thing inside yet but slowly moving down inch by inch.

"fuck kats', your so big'" you whine out when you finally take him in to the hilt. you feel so full, your tight walls clenching tightly around him as you let yourself adjust to the stretch.

katsuki tisks, thrusting up into you—hard. "thought i told you to ride me" he says with hard slap to your ass. you whine out again at the sting but lift yourself up anyway. you begin properly riding him, sliding yourself up and down on his length, grinding your hips against his, moaning as your clit rubs against his pelvis.

katsuki lifts his head off of the pillow and pushes his face into your chest, taking his lips and wrapping them around you nipple, one of his hands coming up to toy with the other one.

he can tell you're getting tired when your movements become sloppy, so he takes that as his que.

"hold on tight" he murmurs against your chest.

you barely hear him, grabbing onto his shoulders at the last second before your breath is stolen right from your lungs.

katsuki wraps his arms around your middle and plants his feet on the bed below him. he holds onto you tightly as he pounds into you, the sounds of skin slapping against skin immediately bounces off the walls at the pace he fucks you.

"ka— kat-suk-iiii fuckkkkk" you cant even think straight, the feeling of katsuki's cock plunging in and out of you rapidly must have your brain all jumbled because the only thing you can think of is dick dick dick dick dick, the word repeating itself over and over again in your head as you claw at his shoulders hard enough to draw blood, but katsuki barely even notices, too busy using you as a human fleshlight to worry about something as trivial as a few drops of blood.

he's close, dick twitching deep inside of your walls and he can tell by the way your squeeze him so tightly that you're close too. he slows down, dragging himself out slowly, leaving nothing but his tip in before snapping his hips forwards, knocking the wind out of you with each thrust, trying to hang on just a little long so that the two of you can cum together.

he flips the two of you over, laying you flat against the mattress with your head resting on the pillow.

"play with your pussy" he tells you, pulling away from you just far enough to let your hand slip between your legs, fingers ghosting over your clit.

"i'm not gonna last much longer" you tell him as you apply pressure to your clit, moving your fingers in circular motions.

"me— shit, me either" he tells you, hips stuttering a bit as you clench down tightly around him, fingers speeding up the assault on your clit. "gonna cum with me pretty girl?" he asks against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"mhmm... yeah fuck"

katsuki pulls back, angling his hips and hitting your gspot head on. thats all it takes for you to cum, body convulsing as your orgasm crashes into you, your toes curling as katsuki continues to fuck your through your orgasm.

it doesn't take long before you feel his warm seed shooting deep inside of you, pushing further inside of your walls as katsuki continues to thrust into you until he's positive he's emptied his heavy balls inside of your cunt.

you feel as it begins dripping out of your hole the second he pulls out, flopping down on the bed next to you, breathing hard and sweating. he looks over at you, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

he leans down and pokes your cheek "i can't believe you really left work just to come get some dick"

[kateschi]

two heroes, one marriage

synopsis: having stolen the hearts of fans with your teamwork and marraige, you and katsuki are called in for a joint interview.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the magazine spread featuring you and katsuki as top pro heroes has the fanbase buzzing for weeks.

power couples aren’t uncommon, but the combination of your joint success and explosive chemistry—both literally and figuratively—makes you stand out.

when you both get asked to sit down for a joint interview, it’s hard to say no, especially when the public can’t seem to get enough of the dynamic between you and your husband.

sitting side by side on a plush sofa in the brightly lit studio, katsuki bristles with impatience, his jaw clenched as the interviewer introduces the segment.

it’s a familiar scene—his fiery personality on display for everyone to see—but you can feel the underlying tension, the way his body leans subtly closer to yours for grounding.

“so, the two of you are recognized as two of the top heroes of the year, and fans are really curious to know how you manage your lives as heroes and as a married couple,” the interviewer begins with a polite smile, clearly trying to ease into the conversation.

before you can respond, katsuki’s sharp voice cuts through the air.

“what the hell kinda question is that?” he snaps, eyes narrowing as he crosses his arms. “we do our damn jobs, and we go home. simple as that.”

you stifle a laugh, used to his bluntness by now. gently placing a hand on his arm, you intervene.

“what he means,” you say, casting a glance at katsuki that makes him grumble, “is that it’s about finding a rhythm. we both understand each other’s work, so we don’t get in each other’s way.”

katsuki grunts, his fiery gaze fixed on the interviewer. “she knows how to handle herself; doesn’t need me micromanaging her every move.”

despite his words, his hand finds its way to your lower back, fingers pressing into the fabric of your suit.

his touch is subtle, a quiet reassurance in the midst of his usual tough demeanor, but you know it means he’s keeping you close, watching out for you in his own way.

the interviewer picks up on the moment, nodding enthusiastically.

“it sounds like you both have a lot of trust in each other. how do you support one another with the high demands of your careers?”

katsuki clicks his tongue, clearly irritated. “support? we’re pros. we know what we’re doin’ out there.”

but just as you’re about to add something, he turns his head slightly to you, his voice dropping just enough for you to hear the change in tone.

“that doesn’t mean I won’t blow the ass off anyone who even thinks about messin’ with her,” he mutters.

you chuckle softly, nudging him with your elbow. “and here I thought I didn’t need you hovering around.”

“shut up,” he grumbles, but there’s no real bite in his tone.

his hand stays on your back, thumb brushing up and down in a way only you notice. “just ‘cause you’re strong doesn’t mean I’m not gonna make sure you’re alright.”

the interviewer, sensing an opportunity, leans in. “mister dynamight, you seem pretty protective of your wife. would you say that’s how you balance work and home life?”

katsuki’s eyes flash, his scowl deepening. “of course, I’m protective. you think I’d let her get caught up in any shit without me there to take care of it?”

his voice is sharp, but the way his arm shifts slightly to pull you closer is anything but harsh. “we don’t even need to talk about this crap.”

you smile to yourself, knowing this is as close to an open display of affection as katsuki will get in public.

his explosive personality never wavers, but there are cracks in his tough exterior that only you can see—moments where his concern for you bleeds through.

when the interviewer pushes on, asking about how your relationship works in the field, katsuki scoffs again.

“are you gonna keep asking this?” he snaps, before glancing at you, his hand tightening just slightly at your waist.

he sighs, trying to compose himself. “we work together ‘cause we’re a team, a hella good one at that.”

his little proud smirk makes your heart flutter. you decide to tease him a little. “oh, so you’re saying you can’t live without me on the battlefield, huh?”

his glare is immediate, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “don’t twist my words! I just—”

he cuts himself off, grumbling under his breath.

“you’re the one who keeps me in check, alright? so yeah, maybe i do rely on you. you’re my wife, and I am your husband. that’s natural! don’t make a big deal out of it.”

your husband huffs and looks away, which makes you giggle.

meanwhile, the interviewer chuckles nervously, clearly amused by the exchange. “it seems like you two have a really solid partnership.”

katsuki rolls his eyes. “damn right we do. we’ve got each other’s backs. that’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”

as the interview wraps up, you feel katsuki’s hand slip from your waist, but his presence lingers, as solid and steady as ever.

once you’re off-camera and away from the prying eyes of the public, katsuki turns to you, his expression softening in that rare way that only you ever get to see.

“let’s get outta here,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “this interview crap’s a waste of time.”

you laugh, slipping your hand into his. “let's hope they don't cut you out like they did in highschool.”

“shut the hell up.” but despite his grumbling, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his grip tightening just slightly as you walk together out of the studio.

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