#its ok he only knocks out like.. 2 teeth
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mekatrio ¡ 5 months ago
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cuz at first ajaa wasnt even meant to exist it was just meant to be the trilogy and thats it, then while theyre porting it over to the nintendo ds capcom gives them the green light to go nuts with a bonus pseudo-dlc case and By God Do They, making the longest case yet of RFTA with fully animated 3d cutscenes + an incredibly convoluted plot that makes the most out of aa1's 3 day trial system + fully modelled 3d rotational evidence, hitting heavy themes of police corruption and evidence forgery and whatnot like they went INSANE, cuz this was supposed to be IT. this was supposed to be ace attorneys big finale and farewell but SIKE oh my god the actual Ministry Of Justice has knocked on capcoms door and told them hey can you make some propaganda for us. so now the aa team has to make propaganda for them. right after burning themselves the fuck out from creating rfta. all that time spent on rfta which couldve been development time for ajaa.... too late. cant be taken back. apollo justice is designed in less than a week and theyre marketing this game while the team is still making it, takumi crazed madman that he is decides to not rely on old characters which while that is an artistic slay, sets up the stage for a marketing failure, and a new artistic team of infinite ambition goes nuts with creating derangedly detailed animations
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⬆️ like oh my god are you insane. thank you so much BUT ARE YOU INSANE? all while still making 3d renders of evidence and random 3d animations and it looks so awesome BUT THERES NOT ENOUGH TIME, 3 wonderful cases are made but 4-4 falls on its face. 6 hours long instead of the usual 10 and only one cross-examination in the final trial and 2 whole main characters with no backstory like its bad. its going to be bad. but its too late. the most incomplete ace attorney game has to be rushed out of the gates and the sales are made But The Reception Is Bad. Real Bad. 2000s hater gamer crowds were the first of its kind, being massively fuelled by the internet, haters back then could sink their teeth deep into a company, which is what got nintendo scrambling away from their wind waker art direction to appease the gamers w twilight princess. so similarly when the hate for ajaa came on, cuz whattt phoenix disbarred and no 😤 old characters 😤😤, capcom scrambled to appease the masses. but oh oh whats this? takumi says 'yeahhhh Nah' and says he wants to make a game about his dog. OK. cant persuade him away from that. might as well let some new blood handle the franchise in takumi's place then, but for The Love Of God do not make an ajaa followup. the gamers will kill us. and so the aai duology was born....... cool........ first one's reception was so bad that localization plans were dropped entirely for the sequel. wow. takumi is fresh off from ghost trick but fucking what, 5 years has passed now, and the new hot console is the nintendo THREE ds. 3ds. wowwww. fucking... PROFESSOR LAYTON kidnaps takumi to make plvpwaa and ajaa continues to be left in the dust. fucking nobody wants him. poor orphaned kitten left in the street. all while the trilogy gets 9584948 million adaptations. and yamazaki twiddles his thumbs thinking abt making aai3 but after thinking it over hes like yeah ill try making aa5. capcom lets him and.......... its over........ they tell him sure go for it But Do Not Follow Up On Apollo Everyone Hates Him please make phoenix the protag. a recipe for disaster. and a disaster aa5 is. juggling THREE protags a complete mess and they do a popularity poll and wow would u look at who came first, fucking APOLLO. JUSTICEEEEEEE. its almost like.... gamers opinions..... are not valuable in the long run.. and popular opinion has never signified artistic understanding.... aa6 comes chugging along and yamazaki addicted to racism cranks out something even worse. both aa56 makes the sales it needs but mindless fanservice can only get u so far... its been nearly 10 years since the ajaa 'trilogy' titles released and the general consensus is that Aaja Was Good and aa56 Not So Much but what can you do now? heres the apollo justice trilogy please buy it and deeply lower ur expectations for coherent and cohesive narratives which have basis in reality thank u. bc u will not be finding that here. ajaa never stood a chance.. they werent doomed by the narrative. its worse. they were doomed by STUPID FUCKING GAMERS AND STUPID EXECUTIVE DECISIONS 😭😭😭
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steifel ¡ 4 months ago
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Dally Winston as a dad HCs
AN: ok this is longer than i thought it would be so i guess i had more ideas than i knew about . i just love imagining characters in situations of parenthood i think its so interesting..... Anyway please enjoy also Sodapop coming soon😊
-when he found out he got someone pregnant his first instinct was to skip town
-he want to tell the guys why he was leaving
"So you know that broad i was sleeping with... Well i knocked her up so as you can imagine you won't be seeing much of me for a while"
-the whole gang was furious
-especially Darry i mean he isn't even Soda and Pony's dad but he stepped up he cant possibly imagine someone having HIS own kid and him not sticking around
-the thing that actually gets him to stay though is how exited Johnny is to be an uncle
-was not involved in the pregnancy hardly at all
-the only doctors appointment he went to was the 20 week scan but only because Ponyboy and Johnny make him
-again whlile she is giving birth this man has his ass firmly planted in a chair on the other side if the room
"Ok dad would you like to cut the cord" Dallas would look at him like 😐 "why?"
-the first time he gets to hold his son he still doesn't get it. Don't get me wrong he thinks the kid is cool and all but it takes him a little while to warm up to the little baby
-immediately though the gang is in love
-Ponyboy gets sad though because the baby starts crying as soon as he holds him
-this is actually kind of what softend Dally up to the kid....
- He's like Damn this is mine he's a little asshole just like me😊
-Dose not know how to comfort a crying baby
-one time he tried to offer his 5 month old teething baby a cigarette to play with and Ponyboy nearly had a heart attack
"Damn Pone i wasnt gonna light it just give him something to chew on 😡"
-asks a million questions to anybody who will answer
"Hay Steve how do i mix a bottle?
Steve is just like 🤷‍♂️
-he's actually surprisingly pretty good at knowing what the baby wants
-like he knows a hungy cry from a sleepy cry
-definitely taught him all of the cuss words
-as the kid starts to get a little older he gets even more excited to be a dad
-once this kid can pretty reliably walk/ make simple conversation Dally starts just dragging him everywhere as if he wasn't 3 1/2
-has conditioned the poor kid to be able to sleep through anything (from the gang fighting to one of Bucks partys)
-teaching the kid how to ride a bike was a fucking disaster
-both of them got so pissed off at the other that they had to just walk away
-Johnny wound up teaching him how to ride his bike
-over all actually a better dad than you would think i mean obviously he's not perfect but he actually does try
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writings-ofthe-heart ¡ 10 months ago
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Drabble that I mentioned before :3
well this ended up being longer than expected..
Horror sans/Reader
side notes; College AU not really, I'm kinda bullshitting the medical stuff ok
Part 1 ✔️ Part 2. etc.
When monsters rose from the surface, it seemed like the entire world caught on fire. Everyone wouldn't stop talking about it, everyone went mad. They seemed... dangerous. Eyes either empty, or filled with a dull, eerie hunger. A lust for something filling. Government officials locked them away for the first two years they arrived but after extensive surveying and rehabilitation technology, they were set free.
All monsters were now allowed in the real world, well, limited to the countries who had not banned them. Lucky you, college had finally ended. With a degree under your sleeve, you looked for a job. Weeks, and weeks went by. Nobody called back. You were getting desperate at this point.
A flyer pinned to a community board caught your attention.
"LOOKING FOR RECEPTIONIST AT THE LOCAL CLINIC, CALL THIS NUMBER IF INTERESTED!"
Seems good as any other job, and it's nearby. They called back almost immediately. What the flyer failed to inform you of,
It was a monster-run, monster speciality clinic. The day you arrived at the clinic was... unforgettable to say the least. Since monsters had been freed from their prison down below, you've never seen them, at least out of articles. Never touched one, never spoken to one. You weren't planning on it either.
"Ah, you must be the new hire! Welcome, welcome."
A giant, sheep-like? furry lady basically pulled you in. A bit harsh, but you kept your mouth shut.
"It's so lovely to meet you. My name is Toriel, and this is our clinic!" You shook her hand, giving her your name. She seemed to stare down, not at you, but into you.
It chilled you to the bone. But you couldn't find the courage to say anything.
she pushed you away, into a small desk at the front of the office.
"This is yours! Feel free to wander, maybe don't try to interact so much with our fellow monsters though... you're one of the first humans to step foot here." She chuckled, her claws long and sharp. Yellowed by who knows what. When she laughed, you got a glance at her teeth, her horrible, crooked teeth. Sweat dripped down your neck. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Toriel left the room, as someone was wailing her name. You booted up the computer , and stood. Maybe looking around for a quick second wouldn't hurt? The computer seemed old anyways.
As you walked down the left hallway, you noticed rooms lined up down the hall. Most of them were open, some had doors left ajar. All of them, you could hear crying, shrieking and wailing. Various names, you couldn't recognize. You heard shrill voices asking for their moms, or Toriel. It made your pounding heart drop to your stomach.
Someone appeared behind you, silently. Once you had reached the dead end, you went to turn and go back to your small desk but was halted. Looming over you, a skeleton. With its jaw hung open, tiny pinpricks boring into your eyes. He could feel your nerves, smell the blood pumping into your heart.
The skeleton didn't even utter a word before jumping on to you, knocking you to the floor. His terrible teeth snapped to bite on your neck. You inched away, shrieking. A bellow from behind the skeleton racked the hall.
"Papyrus!" Toriel grabbed the skeleton by the neck, raising him far away from you. "Oh dear, oh dear." The furry monster, now looking concerned, flung the tall skeleton away. A group surrounded the skeleton, eager to help him or... harass him for details on being so close to the human.
Toriel picked you up, her matted fur somehow comforting you in the state of shock you were in. She plopped you on a chair in a vacant room, and left. The door clicked with the lock.
"Um, hey?! You didn't just lock me in here right?" You awkwardly shouted out. No response, only the shrieks and sobs from next door.
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tlbodine ¡ 22 days ago
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Overthinking Goosebumps
It's been a long, ugly year for me. So I suppose it shouldn't be a surprise that I've be craving some intense comfort and nostalgia this fall. Which is, I think, why I found myself gripped by a sudden and intense desire to re-read the the Goosebumps books.
Like every horror-loving Millennial, I cut my teeth on R.L. Stine books. The Haunted Mask was the first chapter book I remember reading, checking it out from the library on a whim. I was 7 years old and completely enthralled.
I spent my weekly $5 allowance on Goosebumps as often as I could and read them from libraries all over the country as we traveled. I didn't have a complete set -- my interest waned by the end of the run, as I'd shifted over to Animorphs -- but I did have a couple dozen of them that I foolishly donated. I haven't touched one of these books in 20 years.
So when the craving hit, replacing my copies felt expensive and daunting. They're collector's items that are worth more than the $3.99 I paid for them in the first place. So I tried to quell my craving by watching videos of people who had done a "read every Goosebumps book challenge," except that just made me want to read them more.
Then I found a bunch of them in audio. They just so happen to be the perfect length to knock out in a day or two of commuting - 2-3 hours per book. A perfect indulgence. I started listening and discovered that not only was I enjoying myself, but that I even had some big thoughts! So, hell, why not blog it?
No promises that I'll blog about every one that I read, and no telling how far I'll make it into the series before my enthusiasm wears off, but for now...I'm overthinking Goosebumps.
So follow along at the "#overthinking goosebumps" tag and come tell me about YOUR experience with these books!
Some General Notes
There are a few things that are kind of a given for every Goosebumps book, which I'll acknowledge here so I don't have to re-tread the same ground over and over in future reviews:
Every chapter ends on a cliffhanger. A lot of those cliffhangers are fake "gotchas" and a lot of the stories rely heavily on practical joker characters in order to add some conflict. Sometimes this is more annoying than others, but I can't really fault Stine for doing it. These were pulpy books for young reluctant readers. When you're 7 years old, this kind of stuff keeps you engaged.
Every book has a twist. At least, most of them do. Some of these twists are better than others. I'll probably talk about a lot of them, but just...you have to go into this anticipating that a lot of these books are shaggy dog stories.
Adults are useless. That's just middle-grade fiction for you. Kids don't want to read about parents solving problems. They want to read about kids having cool adventures.
Oh yeah - I also may mention the TV show from time to time, but I was not much of a fan of the show. I know a lot of other people are nostalgic about it, but I didn't like it as a kid and it certainly hasn't aged well. The effects look cheap, the acting is uniformly terrible, and the episodes generally aren't well-adapted from the books. So sorry if I piss on your parade when I bring up episodes in relation to the books. The theme song is a banger though.
The average Goosebumps book is around 20-25k in length. Stine released a new one every month for the entirety of its 62-book run. He was writing these in a couple weeks. EDIT: Apparently he did employ some ghostwriters, which is news to me and makes me sad, but I still respect him anyway. His background in magazine and TV writing really shows through with these, both in terms of speed, process, and humor.
(I admire the hell out of R.L. Stine. I got to very briefly meet him at NYCC and thank him for his influence. It was great.)
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Ok. Fangirl flexing over.
Looking forward to re-visiting these books and giving some of the ol' classic T.L. Bodine deep-dive treatment to them ;)
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afreakingdork ¡ 2 years ago
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It's On the Tip of My Tongue
RotTMNT Donatello x Reader One-Shot
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Warnings/Tags: Explicit Content, Aged-up Turtles, Established Relationship, Love, Romance, Cunnilingus, AFAB Reader, Masturbation, Cum Play
Synopsis:  Your boyfriend goes above and beyond after offering to teach you Japanese.
Also avaliable on Ao3
Written for the prompt✨Donnie's Love Language is Learning✨
I am so honored and inspired to be surrounded by such incredible writers and artist on a daily basis! This one goes out to y'all plus more specifically @amutantturtleenthusiast and @shiftandshade for literally giving me the premise on a silver platter. Both of your brains blow me away on a daily basis. Pun intended!
Last warning for the 🍋 under the cut. Minors DNI!
“What are you?”
Staring hard at the foreign letters on the package you were holding, you glared at the tiny mascot that looked like a buff praying raisin.
Donnie who was a few feet away with a basket tucked into curled arm, barely shot you a glance. “Try the tag.”
“It just says Nobel!” You gripped, turning the parcel over only to find a slew of even smaller font of what looked like walls of doodled strokes.
Sighing as if he were put out, he made the few step trek. You offered him the candy and he instead leaned into your space to review it. “Otoko Ume.” He gave a light scoff. “Man plum, I believe it’s supposed to be a manly amount of sour.” He pointed to the mascot. “Hence whatever this is supposed to be.”
“You had it before?” Turning into him brought your faces closer together.
“I prefer sweeter fruit chews.” He gently knocked the side of his head against yours and moved away.
Watching him depart with a warm smile, you went back to the candy with a tepid frown. Your brow scrunched and then rose as you snapped your neck back towards him. “Wait, did you read this?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged and went back to debating chips.
“You can read Japanese?”
“You’ve met father aka Splinter aka Lou Jitsu aka Hamato Yoshi dozens if not hundreds of times at this point.”
“Yeah, but I’ve never heard him speak it!”
He gave you a look that somehow both read disappointed and incredulous. “You do realize how that sounds?”
You grit your teeth and crinkled the packaging with nervous fingers. “Ok, look-”
He turned to you with dubious attention, folding his arms in way that caused the basket to jut out like a plastic welt.
“We’ve been together for how long?” You needed to reframe.
“Four years, 7 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days.”
He always spouted off the knowledge like it was nothing. You adored that he kept a running tally.
“And this has never come up in the slightest!?” You swung out your hand to make the point, but it just made it look like you were offering him the candy.
He reached out and plucked a corner of it between a thumb and finger to place it back on the shelf. “Can that be…?” With an extra adjustment to make sure the bag was in line with its brethren, he resumed his crossed stance as he processed the data. “Hm, you may have a point.”
Sighing out of sheer relief, you switched to eyeing him up. “Let’s hear it then.”
He gave it another moment of thought before grabbing a bag of nori shio chips. “Pa-pa tried to teach us when we were very young to varying degrees of success.”
He dropped the selection into the basket and you walked over to scan the savory snacks.
“I’m not sure to the extent, but Raph can certainly maintain day to day conversation. Dad will sometimes switch over when he’s really tired and Raph mirrors the speech. I’ve always meant to test if he’s aware he does it.”
Tempering your eureka moment, you found a bag of snacks you had always wondered about and quickly offered them to Donnie.
He scarcely glanced at it. “Kameda Kakinotane, they’re baked soy sauce rice crackers and peanuts.”
Pulling the package back, you marveled at finally having secured the knowledge that had eluded you.
“Mikey took to reading. When he was real small he’d sit in Dad’s lap and make him slowly read out the ‘pretty letters.’ He maintains accounts on multiple Japanese art sites and I’ve seen him flagging pages from imported books to look back at…” Donnie tipped his head to the side and gave a huff. “I can’t remember the last time I heard him speak it out loud. That’s annoying.”
Still putting a majority of your focus into listening, another package that had vexed you caught your eye so you moved to hold it out.
“Amanoya Himemaru, it’s a fried salty/sweet rice cracker.”
Lighting up, Donnie already had the basket offered out as you shifted to drop them in. You gave him a thankful smile which he lazily returned with a nod. 
“As soon as Leo took to Señor Hueso it was all over. That peabrain of his doesn’t seem to be able to hold two languages at once; he dumped all the Japanese for Spanish, if he even had any.”
“Which just leaves the star of the family.” You shifted your body weight to one hip and Donnie regarded you fondly.
“Fluent, as you can image.” He slunk down and around you awaiting further praise.
“Of course.” You gave it in the form of a stroke to his cheek that curled down the scratch that place he liked his beneath his chin. You felt the brunt of his rumbling churr along with a softening of his features in delight.
He allowed it for a moment before reigning himself in as he seemed to remember you were out in public. “Along with a few other languages that were self-taught.”
“My genius.” You hummed, stepping with purpose towards another aisle.
He followed as you approached the daunting wall of teas. The lead position meant he couldn’t see you. Using this time, you crafted your most puppy-like gaze before rounding it on him. It sputtered out as he had already steeled his features into a hard icy line. You almost missed the days when you could routinely catch him off guard to your advantage. He knew you far too well now and though you preferred it, sometimes you wish he’d let you get off once in awhile.
“I’m not going to read off all the labels.”
Your shoulders slacked and your head rolled back in defeat. “Come on!”
“There’s an English proverb that comes to mind…” He feigned thinking even though you both knew he already had the information locked and loaded.
“Yeah, yeah…” You whined.
“’Teach a man to fish.’” He spared you by only reciting a portion.
Your displeasure distracted you for a moment and then you bobbed as the intention hit you. “You want to teach me?”
“If…” His guard lowered in a small and timid way that translated the importance of this gesture. It wasn’t some snide force of information to correct you where public education had failed. It was his family’s culture. Your heart was faulty of bursting before he even finished what he was saying. “… you would be interested in that.”
“Yes.” You had tempered your shout which was a good start, but the urge to tackle him was off the charts. You settled for pressing your arm to his free one and weaving your five digits between his three for a tight squeeze. He showed his appreciation for you holding back by pressing a kiss to your temple.
The air then rapidly change as he parted with your conjoined hands in marched tow. “Let’s begin. Dearest, you picked the perfect place to start!” You balked and he used your surprise to trade the basket into your hands. He then posed in front of the green teas and brought a finger to attention. “Here we have ‘oh-cha,’ or tea. Some might believe this refers to only green tea, but if we dig into the radicals of the characters than we reveal something delightful about the language…”
He droned into both a heady lesson in tea and Japanese that would keep you both at the little specialty grocery store until closing. After getting scolded by an employee and finally making your purchases, you’d somehow been able to coax your purple turtle back to your apartment. You’d been unable to reign that mouth of his in as he doubled all of his sentences throughout your nighttime routine. Even into the kiss goodnight under the covers did he whisper sweet nothings on that dual tongue of his. It would have been sweeter if you weren’t exhausted. You could still hear the syllables as you drifted off to sleep.
When you awoke, you found yourself snuggled in tight with a cold emptiness beside you. It wasn’t unusual as it was hard to keep Donnie tied down to a mattress for sleepy mornings, so you hobbled up to look for your partner. He was nowhere nearby and the silence that chased your search seemed to indicate he had gone out. Bleary and sleep drunk, you stared at a bright pop of neon purple on the wall opposite you. It was curious enough that you left the comfort of your covers to investigate. Against your body’s protest, you gave a half smile as it came into view. It was a translation for the word ‘wall’ with a Romanized version for pronunciation and two sets of characters. You seemed to remember something about the three alphabets, but you weren’t sure which were on the note.
Resisting the urge to take it down, you turned and caught another purple note on your nightstand. You reached to touch the one on your alarm clock and caught sight of another pressed to the surface of the table as well. Getting a sinking feeling in your stomach, you rubbed your eyes. With renewed gaze, you came to find there were about five sticky notes on the nightstand alone. Foreboding sensations tickled your fingers as you spun around and started to take in just how many surfaces in your apartment were labeled. The purple notes popped up in nearly every inch of the space in some shape or form. It would have been impressive if not for how daunting it was.
Shirking it off, you headed to the bathroom to wash up. It marked the beginning of your battle with the annotations. The one marking the mirror was set in the dead center so you had to move it to see your reflection. The one wrapped around your toothbrush had to be completely set aside and the one on the toothpaste fell off as soon as you picked up the tube. The clipping on your face wash then fell into the sink and the one on your hairbrush had picked up an errant strand to its adhesive. Trying to cool your heated nerves, you went to get dressed and thankfully found no signs of that accursed neon amongst your clothes. Suspicious, you grabbed a shirt and turned to find a detailed manifest taped to sliding door of your closet instead.
You praised yourself for not ripping the thing to shreds and moved in an angry stupor on your couch. Across from you a note clearly sat against the screen of the TV, blocking a little square of the screen in the top center. You stared at it with wide furious eyes as the lock turned at your door. You turned that same look on the only person who had a key.
Donnie slipped in with a brown bag tucked into one arm and did a jaunty little twirl into locking the door back up. He then turned with a bright smile. It didn’t falter as he passed short glance at your furious expression. He brushed past it and headed to the kitchen. Climbing up into the couch, you watched him over the back of it as he sat the bag down and proceeded to get some plates.
“If that’s breakfast than I might be inclined to not get as mad about… all of this.” Looking around it didn’t take long for you to point you the nearest glaring neon offense.
He followed your arm and then gave you a genial nod which you read as a confirmation. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet. Where you had been annoyed, suspicion took over. Doing a half roll, half jump over the couch, you joined him in the kitchen as he laid out two wrapped bodega breakfast sandwiches. The scent distracted you and you reached for one before registering your arm was in motion. He peppered a napkin on top of your plate as a precaution to what would certainly be a messy ordeal and you left him in favor of taking your bounty back to the couch.
You had already gotten a few greasy bites in when he finally came around and set his plate on the coffee table. Through your own chews you watched as he then moved the sticky note on the TV and returned to you. He took a seat beside you and muttered a phrase you swore you had heard in any number of anime before he picked up his sandwich to eat. The curious silence ebbed between bites and when you went for the remote, you didn’t find it in its typical place. Donnie was pretty good about keeping the apartment in order for easy retrievals and you swiveled your head to look for the device. You found it instantly in a green hand and watched as he flicked the TV on. It instantly came alive and within moments you found you couldn’t understand what they were saying.
You slumped back into the cushions. “Of course, you somehow already have it set to some Japanese channel!”
He responded and it took you another beat to realize it hadn’t been another comment from the TV.
“What?” You turned to him, your sandwich already falling to the wayside.
He turned to you and the aura of smugness rolling off of him was palpable. He then went on to not only repeat whatever he had said initially, but rattle off a few more sentences that you presumed were an explanation.
You gave a hollow laugh. “No.”
One of his eye brows lifted in a manner that said the opposite.
“You’re not.”
He said something else in Japanese and went back to eating.
“Of course!” You shouted and looked around frantically. In this sense he was the immovable object, so you were already on the hunt for a work around. Over the years you’d found yourself quite adept an levyig your quick thinking against his staunch attitude. He’d grown humble in some ways, but when he was hyperfocused, you had to get creative. Not finding what you were looking for, you remembered where you had started your day. You found your phone under yet another sticky note in the bedroom. Balling up the bit of paper and tossing it into the trash, you typed out a message.
You: You’re just not going to speak English anymore?
Positioning yourself in the door of the bedroom you watched as Donnie took his time unearthing his phone from his pocket. He then regarded the text and then shot you cocksure grin before typing something out. You waited for your phone to vibrate before looking down.
Mauve Menace 💜: 言語を学ぶ最良の方法は、没頭することです。
That contact nickname had never been more fitting. You smiled regardless because it had been exactly what you expected and you copied the text into a translation window. Your gambit had worked out, but you scowled at its contents.
“Don, I love you and I want to do this, but… you gotta give me a break!” You crossed the room and over to him. Your shift in attitude had him placing his meal back down on the coffee table and extending an arm to you. As you drew close he wrapped it around your leg. “I’ll learn fast this way, yeah.” You reached down and gently cradled his chin where he was already looking up at you. “I need breaks though. My mind doesn’t work the same as yours.” You bent down to place a kiss to the top of his head which he dipped down to make more accessible. “Let’s set up a schedule and do immersion blocks during certain hours? Does that sound ok?”
Though he was still sat on the couch, he scooted to the edge and tugged your leg until your body was flush with his shoulder. He then rested his head against your stomach and thought the proposal over. You waited patiently and twirled your fingers into his little mask tails. When he seemed satisfied, he released you.
“Alright.”
“Ah, English to my ears!” You sang and dipped down to give him another kiss. He met it and you crossed him to drop back into the couch with a plop.
“The labeling…” You glanced at the closest one on the coffee table. “Maybe when I have a little more understanding I’ll come to like them, but for right now there’s way too many. I’m more of a hands-on sort of learner.” You laid your head against the arm rest and debated grabbing the rest of your breakfast.
Donnie gave a little thoughtful hum and mumbled something that you were sure was English, but still didn’t make it to your ears.
You gave your own curious response that he could either leave if he were chugging down a thought train or indulge if he were in a sharing mood.
In a mixed bag of both, he got to his feet. He continued to rattle off a series of what you now could identify as disjointed thoughts. It was the kind of thing he did when he was in a formulation state. You watched as he predictably headed to his desk. He kept his lab in the safety of the sewers, but when you’d chosen to cohabitate, you’d made sure he had space to work on any non-lethal projects.
Curious as to whether he’d go the old fashioned route of digital for what you presumed was a blueprint, you watched as he instead clambered for a box of parts. He then scowled at them, dumping the pieces into another such bin and using the now empty container to push all the work atop his desk into. It was enough to bring you to an upright position; he rarely treated his paperwork so poorly.
You were about to ask when he rounded on you with a manic eye. His body language shifted to tender, but that edge to his gaze said it was a sort of put on. Regardless, your body responded when he ghosted his hands over your shoulders and propped a knee up on the couch. Using the stability, he then crowded you and his lips pressed greedily into yours with enough pressure that you laid back down. By the time he encouraged you to slip your arms around his neck, you had almost forgotten about the strange display. His hands cascaded down your body, massaging your thighs in a way that coaxed them apart. Slotting himself there, his tongue attempted to drown yours and you had a far away thought that he was rushing when he hadn’t even seemed in the mood just a few moments ago.
A single rock into your center caused the thought to evaporate. He kept the pressure vague but ever-present as the pawing make-out session continued. You were near delirious when he pulled back. You watched with a love drunk gaze as he studied you from where an elbow held him up on one side of your head. Admiring his work, he wiped a bit of drool from your lower lip with his thumb and then beamed you an all too saccharine smile.
“I think we’re ready to begin.”
“Uh-wha?” You hadn’t regained the ability to sharpen consonants yet when he left you.
“With the lesson, darling!” He beamed as if that were patently obvious.
You stared at him dumbly and he dipped down to pick you up. One arm slipped under your knees while the other cradled your shoulders. Despite your confusion, you snuggled up to him as he carried you over to his desk. He deposited you right in the center of it and took great care to adjust your seating. When he felt satisfied, you were perched on the very edge with your legs dangling off of it. He dropped down onto his knees before taking one of each of your own in either of his hands. He pressed them together which translated all the way up your thighs. It made the slick between your legs all the more apparent.
Still trying to process what was happening, he set his chin atop your legs and watched you with what you could only describe as an abuse of innocence.
“Donnie… what’s going on?”
“You…” The angelic softness in his eyes caramelized before you as he rose up smoothly into your face. He then tilted his head as if he were going to kiss you, but instead continued, “... said you preferred experiential learning. As do I, so let’s learn.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the lacquer in his tone and he shifted back to his knelt stance. You had the faint idea of protesting, but he then hooked a finger into either side of your shorts. 
“Speaking can come later. We’ll schedule it, as discussed, but there’s a little thing we should work on first…”
It took you a moment to find your voice. “Y-yeah?”
He nodded and trailed his fingers around to the button in the front. “The tongue is a muscular organ that among its many jobs helps to manipulate language.”
He was methodically about undoing the stud and you felt the need to anchor yourself to the edge of the table as he dragged the zipper down at a painfully slow pace.
“Its dexterity is of utmost importance and something I’d like to demonstrate to you along with some basic characters before you get into it yourself.”
Your nod started small and then grew eager as he trailed his hands back to your sides. Glad you had a solid grip, you brought your hips up and he slipped both your shorts and underwear off in one go. You sucked a breath in through your teeth as he set them aside, carefully, on a chair before returning to you.
“To clarify, today we’re focusing on Hiragana. Do you remember what that is?” He kissed one of your knees and your jaw fell slack.
Trying to pick it up and swallowing the rapidly accumulating moisture in the process, you licked your lips.  “It’s… an alphabet?”
“That’s not as specific as I’d hoped, but you aren’t wrong.” He awarded you by slowly pulling your legs apart. Your body arched instinctively as the collected honey threaded strings between the two sides of your inner thighs. He drew close and shot it an approving gaze before turning it up on you.
“Don-” His name hitched as you melted under the searing look.
“46 characters representing syllables that allow us to write Japanese words, conjugation endings, and grammar particles.” He drawled on as he settled himself into the most comfortable position. It ended with his face right between your legs and his hands wrapped around your legs with a grip on the outside of each thigh. “Let’s start with some monographs, what do you say?”
“Yes, please, just-” You strangled the desperation and tried to translate it into your face.
A fond look broke through his molten façade and he gave a quick peck to your left thigh in what you sensed was an acknowledgement of how well you were playing along. You pried one of your hands free from the table to cover his with a light squeeze to translate something similar.
A flicked gaze back to your core and he was all burning business again. “There are a series of characters that happen to follow along the English vowels…”
You wished you could mouth a response, but the anticipation was throttling your voice.
“Starting from the top.” He closed the gap and pressed his face into your heat. Your head rolled back as he adjusted and then the scorch of his tongue darted out. He made precise strokes and it tore a sound out of you.
“Ah!”
He pulled back just enough so he could speak, “Exactly, unlike our vowels though, Japanese handles the long and short forms differently where need be. For this character, it’s that single sound.”
He immediately pressed his snout into you again and shifted the angle. His tongue dipped between your folds and you huffed.
“Oo!”
“Perfect.” His hot breath tickled you and you squirmed. “You just need to ensure the right mouth shape to make it distinct from...” He surged forward, tracing a hot line down towards your center, but not quite pressing in.
“Oh!”
He was a little slower to retreat and took his time gathering the moisture weeping there. “Do…” He swallowed. “Do you hear the difference? The う is like ‘too’ and the お is like ‘coat.’”
You rolled your hips forward, unable to answer.
“Two more, you’re doing incredible.”
His encouragement brought a pathetic whine up your throat as he nosed into you again. You seized up as he first tasted you then distinctly making the strokes that flicked directly over your clit.
“Ee!”
He rumbled in a way you vaguely understood as affirmative before going for another pattern. Its precise tongue movement didn’t rip a sound from you and for the first time you became semi-cognizant to what he was doing. Memories of him eating you out over the years reeled by as his tongue made flat stimulating laps. He’d been able to finesse his ministrations to the point where he knew exactly where to lick to get you to make the exact sound he desired. You might have been scared of his accuracy had he not finally shoved the thick of his tongue into your hole. A lengthy moan passed your lips and you forewent the table to hold directly onto his head. He awarded you with a few pumps of his tongue before pulling all the way out and putting a several more inches of distance between his face and your pussy than he had yet.
You nearly cried and a pathetic sound trickled out of you. “Eh…”
He panted heavily, shaking his head with a growl. “All five.” He gave your thighs a congratulatory squeeze. “Though that latter one may have sounded like the English ‘e,’ it’s actually interpreted as the ‘i,’ while the former is then the inverse of that.”
You rolled your head from where it was thrown back to look at him in a scandalized fashion.
He smiled darkly. “To recap, that’s い for ‘easy,’ like how easy it is to make you cum and え as in ‘wet’ and how I soak you through after just a few kisses.”
You wanted to scream at him. That fury in your eyes caught his and he gave another easy smile.
“Do you know how much I love you?”
The fury petered out and you watched for that affectionate switch to occur. Instead, his blown out pupils read that he was barely holding back. If it had been there, you might have interjected with the amount you held, instead his burning gaze brought out your mimic. “How much?”
“Let me tell you.” He murmured and shot forward. His grip on your legs was bruising and now all his ministrations were exact. A scream surged from your belly and you caught it with clenched teeth. The table rocked as he wrote out an epic with his tongue alone. You scarcely wondered how many pages this explanation would take up as the coil tightened with each twist of brush. He wove a love letter through your folds and across your clit while taking time to dot off sentences with a pump into your core. It was just enough pressure that your arms gave out and you slacked back, caught only by his wall of monitors. You had zero concern for their state as blood rushed in your ears and you could feel your peak coming on. Without your limbs to translate this, you squeezed his head between your thighs to give him some kind of signal. The fingers curled in on one of his hands and you felt the appendage then wave. Despite both your positions, you recognized it as ASL for ‘yes.’
You wanted to strangle the multilingual love of your life.
Instead, he seemed to finish his soliloquy and then attach himself directly to your clit. You came as soon as he did, his tongue eas you from the high as the spring rhythmically compressed and released. His grip on your legs soon loosened and he took great care in licking up the extra slick you generated. Satisfied, his head lolled back and he swiped that magnificent tongue of his over his lips.
His head rested against your inner thigh and you slowly regained the ability to move your arms. Once you had enough control, you used them to pull yourself from his screens and give him a sheepish look. He shrugged it off and rubbed his cheek against you to telegraph that it was alright. You smiled and reached out, needing to touch him more. Brushing your knuckles against his cheek, your tried to keep your lids open. “That much, huh?”
“That much.” He agreed.
You gave a wistful sigh and the inability to lean back properly was starting to wear on you. Donnie stood, freeing himself for your legs for only a moment before leaning down to dip an arm under your knees. This time you were ready and reached out to knot your arms around his neck. He spared you a kiss before surprising you by rotating your body so you could lay out long ways across the desk. You were curious for a moment, until he moved and you noticed that it could easily align your throat with his hips. Thinking this was what he intended, one of your legs came up in a lazy bend and you adjusted your shoulders.
He watched you lazily before going for his waistband. It was a stretchy sort of garment that made for easy transition between day to day and ninja vigilantism. As he prepared to slip it off his hips, you caught the telltale outline as he shimmied the fabric.
“You dropped?” You wondered with a half-lidded gaze.   
“Can you blame me?” His pants fell away and he stepped out of them. His cock bobbed lazily now that it was free and he reached down to fist the base. “You did so good in your lesson.”
“It’s already over?” You murmured, biting your lowering lip and unable to look away as he slowly tensed the skin forward.
“No and…” He gave himself a few hard strokes before blowing out a shaky breath. “It’s bad form because I would prefer the lecture had flow, but I’d like to cap off today’s teaching with something a little more complicated.”
“I like the sound of that.” You hummed in agreement, wondering when he’d let you take him.
You watched with a growing furrow in your brow as he moved to jerk himself off to a steady rhythm.  
“Can I…?” You drew out the question, pushing up onto one shoulder.
He shook his head and stepped in closer. The wet slap of his fluids resonated in your ears. “I want to watch you.”
“Watch me?” You finally broke eye contact with his cock to search his face. “But I’m not-”
“You’re doing everything.” He corrected sternly.
Your mouth snapped shut and you lay back tensely. He continued to slide his fist from hilt to tip with his speed increasing incrementally.
You studied him until it came to you. “Explain it to me.”
His lips parted with a heady little chirp.
“Teach me.”    
“My star pupil.” He groaned into the praise and paid extra attention to his flared head. “While we say it-” He stuttered and his hips bucked into his hand. “-casually. In Japanese culture, you don’t say ‘I love you,’ you show it. If it is said…” He trailed off, drinking you in with a long dragging gaze. “… it makes it all the more special.”
You nodded, curious if this was meant to be a demonstration. It didn’t feel quite right. Though he didn’t say it as often as you did and he was very good at acts of services as illustrated. The more you thought, the more you came to notice he didn’t fit neatly into any of the love languages. In the time your relationship had grown, you found that he completed each in his own way. Instead of overt touch, he preferred little, more meaningful brushes. He’d gone from plying you with inventions to making the occasional one that meant all the more. Quality time had been through the roof since you’d moved in together and you’d often wound up sharing space with one another, content doing separate things. Overcome with the many memories, you came back to yourself as the slap of his fist against his now soaked plastron seemed deafening. You could barely trace his hand as his pace became erratic.
“You.” He heaved the word. “You.” He repeated and turned his body. In a few last desperate tugs, ropes of his semen cascaded down your torso. You gasped at the sudden heat of them and barely registered when he shot forward as soon as the last of it ribboned out. His insane reflexes came into play and this time you couldn’t follow his hands at all as they danced over your belly. You gawked as he then pulled away, one of his fists dripping with his own release. Still feeling remnants, you looked down to find a clear set of characters spelled out in what was left.
 You craned up onto your elbows in attempt to read what was written on your body without disturbing the fluid.
He leaned in close and pointed with his free hand as he mouthed, “’Eye-she-teh-ee-mah-ss.’”
You sat up just a bit more and he threaded an arm around your shoulders to support your weight. “Again.”
With his head now right beside yours, he seemed to surprise slightly, but complied.
“One more…” You urged, turning to ghost your lips over his.
He repeated the words and drank you in with a kiss.
You didn’t let it linger and pulled back. Biting your lip, you set your gaze and carefully enunciated what you’d heard. “愛しています”
His lips crushed you back into the table and you could feel him move to grab you but falter with a handful of his cum impeding the action. Clearly annoyed, he broke away to tissue the fluid away before returning with more. He wiped you clean before urging you to your feet which became immediately apparent as a transfer to the bed. He made the trek slow and you huddled close to him. “How did that not flow?”
He gave a dry chuckle and you gave into the sheets. “Only one character I taught you ended up being in the final phase.”
“い” You noted.
He had been in the process of crawling into bed with you and caught you in another crushing kiss.
Pulling back breathless, you could feel a long day of intimacies coming on and wanted to clear one last thing up before it was too late. “And watching me?”
“Working up the nerve to say something that important.” He responded swiftly with that smug grin of his. “Seeing you sprawled out for me, having let me do that to you, and indulging all my little idiosyncrasies…” He reached over and plucked a sticky note from the bedside table.
You promptly snatched it from him and tossed it aside. “It’s that kind of love.”
He grinned and you both fell back into each other’s embrace.
💜Follow me, my ko-fi, or on Ao3 for updates! Become a member on ko-fi for behind the scenes notes, processes, and WIPs 💜 
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starsaver94 ¡ 10 months ago
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Taming the Beast Within Ch.5
Soft snoring filled the air of a fifteen-year-old Kyoko’s bedroom. A thin line of drool flowed freely out of her mouth and made a small stain on the sheets as she slept peacefully. At least, until a soft yet loud knock resonated against her bedroom door. Kyoko groaned as she stirred from her newly disturbed sleep.
“What?” She whined out at whoever was currently at her door.
“Kyoko, it’s 8:00 am. You need to get up!” Her mother exclaimed from the other side of the door.
“Why?”
“Because your entranced exam for U.A is today. Did you forget? I made breakfast for you, so hurry and get dressed. You don’t want to be late.”
“Oh,” Kyoko mumbled before closing her eyes again in order to go back to sleep. But as soon as they were closed, her eyes shot back open again.
“Crap!” She shouted, quickly scrambling out of bed, changing her clothes in a rush, grabbing her backpack and bolting out the door into the hallway. Kyoko runs up to the kitchen counter and grabs a small bowl of eggs and rice that her mother had just made.
“Good morning, dear.” Reiki greets her newly awoken daughter “Did you sleep well?”
“Mm-hmm. I slept really well.” Kyoko mumbles around a mouthful of rice, stopping for a moment to gulp down some water from a tall glass.
“Careful dear, you don’t want to choke do you?” Reiki warns as Kyoko finishes the last of the rice and runs to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
“Did you pack everything you need, sweetie?”
“Yeah, I packed everything in advance last night, remember?”
“Ok, well, just be careful out there and do your best, alright?”
“I will.” Kyoko reassures her mother before kissing her check and heading out the front door “Bye mom! I love you and I’ll tell you how things went when I get back!”
Reiki smiled and let out a sigh of both pride and sadness “My baby’s on the path to achieving her dream.”
As Kyoko walked down the street, she began to notice other students around her age walking down the same path she walked.
They all must be taking the entrance exam as well.
Kyoko continued to walk down the street until she rounded the corner and was met with the large entrance gates of U.A High School. The sight of what was considered the top hero school in Japan made Kyoko’s heart race.
It’s much bigger than I thought. Should I really go in? I mean only the best of the best can attend, and my quirk is…
Thoughts of doubt raced through her mind as she walked through the gate and down the entrance path, pausing only to take another look at the school in all its glory. That was, until a sudden force was felt against her left shoulder that nearly knocked her off balance and snapped Kyoko out of her daydreams.
“Watch where your standing idiot!” A harsh male voice growled while continuing down the brick path. He was wearing a black coat with matching black pants and had a tan scarf wrapped around his neck. An aura of somewhat subdued anger seemed to follow him.
Kyoko didn’t get a good look at his face, but one thing in particular about the unknown male did stick out to her. A head of spiky, ash-blond hair that looked almost painful to the touch.
Just another student going to take the entrance exam.
Kyoko shook her head and continued down the path towards the front doors of U.A. As Kyoko walked, she passed by a brown-haired girl who was standing next to a boy with a head of fluffy, green hair who was… floating?
Just more hopeful students. Keep walking.
Kyoko walked through the large double doors with an equally large 2 painted on it. She continued to walk through the large main hall until she finally reached the exam room.
There’s got to be an empty seat somewhere… Oh! There!
She ended up taking a seat next to a boy with sharp red hair.
After Kyoko took her seat, the lights in the exam room flared to life. This revealed a man with long yellow hair that was styled in a way that made him look like some sort of parrot.
“What’s up U.A candidates? Thanks for tuning in to me, your school DJ.” The man flashed a somewhat cheesy smile and opened his arms out towards the crowd of exam takers.
“C’mon. And lemme hear ya!”
Silence. Complete and total silence.
Is this guy for real?
“Keeping it mellow, huh? Alright, guess I’ll skip to the main show. Now, let’s talk about your practical exam.”
“ARE YOU READY? YEAH!”
More silence.
Who is this guy?
“Today you rockin’ boys and girls will be out there conducting ten-minute mock battles in an epic urban setting. After I finish here you’ll be sent to your specified battle center, sound good?”
Wait… did he say… battle?
Kyoko’s heart dropped. She hated fighting, more than anything else on earth. Now she has to fight if she wants to get into the academy.
I must’ve missed that part on the application form…
Kyoko quickly pulled out her exam ticket in order to check her battle center location. It read “Test Location: Battle Center B”.
She looked back up at the screen which now displayed what types of enemies would appear and how many points they were worth when defeated.
“Excuse me, sir? But I have a question.”
A single light beamed down on a taller, black-haired student. The light reflecting off of his glasses.
“On the printout, you’ve listed four distinct types of villains. Not three like you said. With all due respect, if this is an error on official U.A material, it is indeed shameful.”
He went on to explain how U.A was supposed to be the most honored school in Japan before pointing at the green haired kid from earlier.
“You with the unkempt hair. Yes, you. You’ve been muttering this entire time. Stop that at once. Because if you can’t bother to take this seriously, then you can leave. You're being a distraction and nuisance to the rest of us.”
Wow… Hopefully the teachers aren’t that strict.
The exam supervisor went on to explain how the fourth villain type was merely just an obstacle and wasn’t worth any points if defeated.
“That’s all I got for today, so I’m going to sign off with a little present for you guys! It’s… a sample of our school motto!”
Suddenly a large projection of the phrase “PLUS ULTRA” flashed onto the screen. Kyoko could feel her heart thumping in her chest at a rapid rate. She was nervous, but at the same time, she was also excited. This was her first step towards becoming a hero. And she was determined not to let something as simple as a mock battle stand in her way.
The exam room quickly emptied out and Kyoko followed the students that were in Battle Center B. The group of students soon arrived at a large metal door. Kyoko began to fiddle with her coat nervously. Her heart was going so fast it felt as if it could pop out of her chest at any minute.
This is it...
My dream…
My career…
My life…
It all…
Starts here!
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darksideofthemoonpie ¡ 2 years ago
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Golly has this been a week.
I'm in exuberant pain periodically for the last few days.
I went to the dentist yesterday and had me checked out with an x-ray. No cavities, no abcess, no infections. They recommend I see a dental specialist. It was over 200 dollars just for the xray and for them to poke on my teeth. I can only imagine how much more a dental specialist would cost.
I was thinking, ok TMJ then. There's nothing they can really do but pain management and wait for it to run its course. I decided to see my chiropractor and see if he could help me. After some twisting and pressure and this one thing that felt like I was punched in the face with a pogo stick I felt no relief. He said based on his exam that he doesn't think I have tmj but instead an ear infection. Right, ok
I went to my family health practice and told the whole story. The doc I saw was about to tell me to go to the ER with how severe the pain was. I told her I couldn't afford that. They gave me a shot of some sort of anti-inflammatory, some prescriptions, and sent me on my way.
I feel a little better but I still have a good amount of pain. Took the antibiotic, took the presidone, and now for flexeril which I have never taken before and am a bit nervous about.
If I'm not better in a week, I can either seek out the dental specialist, which will likely cost me a fortune, OR an ENT.
SINCE SATURDAY I have had severe pain especially at bedtime. Monday night I woke up 4x in pain so bad. Last night I slept with my head propped up and took 3 advil and 2 Tylenol before going to sleep.
Doc said the flexeril would knock me for a loop. Just took one about 5 min ago. We'll see where it goes.
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duramaters ¡ 2 years ago
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Aches and Adoration // Part 2
Tumblr media
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Summary: It’s been a few years since you became a member of Dauntless and you want to brush up on your fighting skills. Getting Eric to help you was probably not your best idea.
Warnings: Explicit language, violence and injury, fem!reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Taglist: @not-the-teen-witch @ask-the-inserts​ 
You woke up sore, stiff and bleary eyed with barely any energy to brush your teeth let alone shower. You pulled on the comfiest sweater and pair of leggings you could find before shoving on some fluffy socks and heading out to go and find Christina. You hoped she’d be in her room so you could privately wallow in your own self-pity while still enjoying her company. You opened your door, too distracted by the pain in your ribs to notice the fist in front of your face.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, “will it ever end?” Rubbing your forehead with the heel of your hand you glanced up at your vicious attacker to find Eric, still with his arm outstretched, hand poised to knock.
“You walked into my hand, just so you know.” He shrugged and you figured that was the closest thing to an apology you’d get.
“I’m not really in the mood to deal with your bullshit today Eric.” You sighed, side-stepping around the man and starting your slow, wincing walk down the corridor.
“I only came by to tell you that I’ve decided to help with your naïve attempt to get some actual muscle definition.” He huffed. The unexpected response had you coming to a halt a few feet away. “But if that’s too much bullshit for you I guess you can find someone else to pummel your internal organs.”
Two things happened. First you face turned bright red as your filthy mind thought about the ways in which he could pummel your internal organs. And then once you had calmed down from that disturbing thought a massive grin broke out on your face and you turned around to face Eric. Unfortunately, as was your luck, your fluffy socks lost all grip on the concrete as you spun and your feet flew out from underneath you. Eric being the ever alert leader whipped out his arm and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, stopping you just short of having your coccyx come into contact with the solid ground. He deftly pulled you up from you position on the floor, your injuries protesting with the use of your core.
“Jesus your balance is atrocious, no wonder you can’t fight.” Eric looked down at you condescendingly.
“I think you’ll find its these actually.” You bent your leg, lifting one of your embarrassing socks into view and Eric merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow in response.
“How long did the doctor say you had to wait before you can start training?”
“A couple more days until I can work on the basics apparently. You know, like my balance.” Grinning up at him you watched him roll his eyes. But his face held no malice and you allowed yourself an inkling of hope that maybe he would be able to tolerate you long enough to at least get you back to your previous skill level.
“Right. Be at the training room 6:00 sharp on Wednesday. We have a lot of work ahead of us.” Eric’s eyes flicked down your body, no doubt assessing your atrocious posture and lack of muscle.
“Ok,” you nodded, “thanks Eric!” If he was surprised at how brightly you smiled at him, he didn’t show it. However, you didn’t miss the way he rubbed at the back of his neck and muttered something to himself before heading off in the opposite direction.
~~~
Wednesday morning came around faster than you’d liked, but you were keen to start actually training now that you didn’t feel like you’d die with every breath. You had asked Christina if she would join you in the hopes that her presence would help alleviate some of the anxiety swirling in your gut, but she balked when you told her you had to meet Eric so early. It was 5:50 on the dot when you pushed open the door to the training room full of grappling dummies  and weapons. Eric was stood near the mats with his arms crossed and a furrow between his brows. You slipped through the door and scurried over to him, trying to hide the slight tremble in your hands by tugging at your sleeves and fiddling with your water bottle.
“You’re late.” He glowered down at you.
“No I’m not! You said-”
“I don’t care what I said. Start warming up.” With that he turned his back on you and picked up his tablet. Clearly he had more important things to be doing than teaching your sorry ass how to stand properly, you rolled your eyes at the thought.
“It’s going to take a lot of work and I’m obviously going to expect you to exceed this because your form was god awful. How did you even pass initiation?” Mumbling the last part, Eric had turned back to face you, holding out the tablet so that you could watch the footage. It was you, during your initiation, just barely beating another initiate in the ring.
“Anything will be better than my current level, don’t ya think.” You crinkled your nose in a self-deprecating wince and let out a huff of amusement.
“No. If you want to beat that giant asshole you’re going to have to work yourself to death. Don’t ya think?” He mocked.
The following two hours were laden with complaints from Eric. “Who the hell taught you to do it like that?!” He exclaimed when he saw your feeble attempt at kicking the dummy.
“Um, Four?” You rubbed the back of your neck and hid the flush of your cheeks behind your hair. Eric merely rolled his eyes as if your answer explained everything he needed to know. “Can you show me again please?” You asked, wanting the focus off of you, stepping back from the dummy and glancing up at your trainer with pleading eyes. He obliged without comment and you watched as the dummy was flung backwards on its stand. Eric smirked at the bewilderment on your face and gestured for you to take your place in front of the target. Your kick was much more accurate this time around, but it still lacked power.
“I’m doing it exactly like you told me to, and I’m still not getting it right.” Frustration was starting to get to you, the repetitive exercises taking their toll.
“Considering you’ve gone six years without even punching something, I’d say you’re doing as well as expected. At least you made contact this time.” His grin was mocking, but there was no malice behind it. Maybe he was actually pleased with the progress you’d made in just one session. You smiled up at him affectionately but he was quick to shut you down. “We’re done for today. Grab a shower and get to work.”  
Four knew that you would be a couple minutes late to your shift in control so you took your time washing the sweat from your overexerted body, taking care when soaping up your injured ribs, giving you time to reflect on your first proper experience with Eric Coulter. You could easily see how people might hate him with his smug grin and bad attitude but you honestly weren’t offended by the way he talked to you. He was helping you after all, and there was no clearly discernible benefit for him that you could see so you simply shrugged off his harsh remarks and tried to take his advice on board. It was probably your inner Amity giving him the benefit of the doubt but even your Dauntless self had to appreciate his questionable altruism.
~~~
Two weeks had passed and you were improving each day under Eric’s strict guidance. You had taken a couple of ‘rest days’ to practice your weapons handling since the knife that you had kept strapped to your thigh for the last few years was practically decorative at this point. You often left work in the evenings and headed straight back to the training room alone to practice everything Eric had taught you before your shift. It was easier to get into a focused headspace where you could hone your skills without the imposing leader breathing down your neck. He was unbearably distracting some days and it wasn’t just his scathing comments that had you flustered. Cold showers after each session had almost becoming a necessity by this point, especially when he turned up wearing that damn leather vest that showed off his obnoxiously large biceps. His calloused hands directing and contorting your body for the more complex fighting stances had been becoming progressively more intense as you allowed yourself to acknowledge your growing attraction.
It was finally Friday and Four had let you leave work early so you could get some training in before meeting Will and Christina at the Pit. You had crowded round the ring, hoping to watch Thelonious get beaten to a pulp by one of the other fighters. What you hadn’t anticipated, was for that fighter to be none other than Eric Coulter. You knew you shouldn’t worry; Eric was agile and devious but he also had a power behind his punches. You had seen hints of it during your training sessions even though you suspected he seriously reined in his hits when you begged him to spar with you. The bell rang and the match began.
Eric was bouncing on the balls of his feet, dodging Thelonious’ heavy fists and landing jab after jab to the larger mans weakest points. You watched with a mixture of awe and trepidation as Eric leapt forward, ignoring the impact of knuckles on his ribcage, and grabbed a hold of that preciously braided beard, using it to deftly swing himself onto Thelonious’ shoulders, wrapping his legs in a vice around the hulking beasts throat. A vein appeared above Eric’s pierced brow with the effort, but a conceding Thelonious tapped his attackers leg in a desperate bid for mercy, face blue and eyes becoming increasingly bloodshot with his breathless panic. Eric simply squeezed tighter.
“That is how you win a fight.” He hissed after completely flooring his colossal opponent and strutting past you. He tried to hide it but you noticed the slight movement of his shoulders that showed he was favouring his left side. You could just imagine the bruise blossoming across his ribs from the only punch his adversary had managed to land. You knew exactly how much damage those fists could do. The tension across his back had you jogging from your spot at the edge of the ring to follow him, leaving Will and Christina standing in the cheering crowd with matching looks of bewilderment.
You caught up with the infamous leader in a quiet corridor, he was heading in the opposite direction to the infirmary and you rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. He didn’t turn to acknowledge you and you trotted up to his side, trying to match his impossible stride.  
“Can I help you?” He barked through gritted teeth.
“Erm, can I help you?” Biting your lip at your hesitancy you looked up at your trainer, his furrowed brow casting a dark shadow over his eyes. He was in pain but he’d be damned if he admitted it. “Please Eric, you’re hurt.” You sighed, reaching gently for his sleeve, silently entreating him to slow his pace. He shook his arm out of your grip, but his marching stride slowed ever so slightly. Sticking by his side it wasn’t long until you reached his apartment, he pulled his key card from his back pocket with an imperceptible wince and shouldered his way into the room, his fingertips lingering on the door so that it stayed open just enough for you to slip through.
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wallspikes ¡ 2 years ago
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Chapter 3
OK this ones a long chapter. almost 6k words. its to make up for the fact that I took over a year to post this sorry. i'm still trying to come up with a name for this! but i'm kicking around some ideas and I'm getting closer. anyway i don't think there's really any warnings for this chapter that arent like. hugely common in other borrower writings! tw bug death...?
LINKS TO PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
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Sunday, June 7th
11:43 P.M.
For certain this time, Weld was clean out of food. 
The borrower lay stagnant in his nest, staring up at the dirt ceiling, watching the day pass as the sun crossed the sky, and the rays of light passed through the slats of his burrow’s hatch. He fidgeted with a piece of cloth he’d pulled from the pile he lay on, catching the corners of his nails on the loose threads he’d already managed to coax from the weave of the fabric. 
He was hungry. The day before, he’d misjudged how much food he had left — one or two of the blueberries had gone too soft, and the quarter portion of the grasshopper wasn’t even enough to ration out into two meals — and after the trip had gone… sour… he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to take a detour to the blueberry bush to get a bit extra, nor would he have trusted himself to climb the thing either way, not with the state he was in at the time. He’d gone home empty-handed, and now he lay here with an equally empty stomach. It rumbled, as if to remind him. Weld grimaced.
The fabric in his hands started to unravel, and he subconsciously brought the remains to his mouth to chew on its frayed edges. He hadn’t properly chewed on anything in a couple of days and his teeth had started to ache in its absence — plus, it helped keep his mind off of how empty his stomach was, and kept his teeth clean.
He didn’t want to leave the house, not after what happened, but he had no choice. It was either he toughened up and took the trip, or he’d starve in his burrow and let the bugs and mice pick at his remains with no means to fight them off — one outcome seemed marginally better than the other. So, he’d wait for the sun to set and the rumbling of the footsteps and bicycle tires on the slats of the boardwalk to begin to die down, and hope he wouldn’t have to suffer another visit from the giant stranger on a night trip. 
Weld shivered. He was always afraid of humans, or, a better assessment would be to say he was afraid of strangers, no matter their size. The fact that the human that had settled their weight over him, blocking out the evening sun, was big enough to pick him up and cradle him in their palm only added to his fear, leaving him petrified rather than in the state of awkward shyness he would tend to feel around the other borrowers he had met when he was a child. He was just more likely to meet a strange human than a strange borrower. 
It wasn’t humans that scared him — he’d lived among them for twenty-five years now, he had seen them laugh, love each other, cry on one another’s shoulders, as he had with his family — they were just people, plain and simple. People on a different scale living a different life that he’d never truly understand, and the same goes for him. What did scare him was the uncertainty of it all, the lack of knowledge or control — the idea that he, in the end, had no say in whatever they decided to do, human or borrower. 
He wasn’t afraid of the stories shared by borrowers for centuries, meant to humble and knock brave, young borrowers down a peg. His parents never really bought into those — though, they’d tell them from time to time — rather they’d bring their sons to watch arguments, and eventually fights, that the patrons of the mechanic’s shop would have with its employees. Watching two humans go toe-to-toe in real-time, or a frustrated mechanic fling furniture and tools around the garage in fits of rage were always more effective methods of intimidation — their terrific shows of strength always put Weld and his brother, Hal, on edge. But, on the other hand, he’d seen the same of borrowers. Not the strength, but the merciless fighting, or the obnoxious bouts of frustration, seemingly over nothing. In the end, who was he to judge a human if he knew nothing about them?
That wasn’t to say he wouldn’t mind if the human that had spotted him decided to come around for another trip. He’d mind that very much. One human always meant more humans, and he didn’t know if that was something he was going to be able to handle. Weld could run from one, hide himself away until it all blew over, but more than one would put his life on lockdown.
Chewing on his bedsheets wasn’t enough. The ache was still there, and his nerves only made it worse. Weld reached from his nest, plucking a flower stem from the bundle near his front hatch. He gnawed on its end, mouth flooding with the bitter taste of the water that leaked from the stem. His stomach rumbled again. He was getting impatient.
By the time he pulled himself from his thoughts, the bustling of humans finding their way home after an evening of friendly revelry quieted to the familiar drone of the night. Weld took pause, realizing the time, reddening a bit at how long he’d been entranced by his memories. Looking down at his hands, the flower stem had been rendered to a limp, mushy mess, covered in bite marks and shredded fiber, staining his palms a bright green. He grimaced and tossed the refuse at the foot of the ladder — he’d bring that out later.
The borrower stood, raising his hands above his head in a long, satisfying stretch, accompanied by a tired whine as he lowered himself back to his nest to wrap his feet and pull on his boots, slipping on his shirt in his typically clumsy manner — finally, poking his head from the neck of his shirt, he forced his hair to lay flat. He gave his gear a thorough once-over, making sure nothing was out of place, no ropes were frayed, canteens were full… he sighed. No food, and no hook. He’d forgotten about his hook. His grapple would have to do. Hopefully, he wouldn’t run into anything too big.
Swinging his backpack over his shoulders and shoving its latching button through the loose eye-hole of the worn leather strap, the sand-colored cloak was next to follow, draping over his shoulders and wavering with each slight movement of his body. The disguise had done him well for the past couple of years of his life — better to hide the stark-red cotton of his shirt — blending into the sand at a moment's notice if need be. Maybe it wouldn’t work quite well enough for the finely-tuned eye of a human, but maybe he would get lucky. He hadn’t exactly had the confidence in the garment enough to put it to the test.
Weld opened the hatch just enough to peek out and scan the area, then shoved his nose up into the little gap to smell out the area, too — nothing around but plants. A relief, but maybe a bit disappointing, he thought as he completed the climb up the rickety bamboo ladder, past the hatch of his burrow and onto the solid ground outside. No suspicious smells meant no special dinner, though he supposed that was a good thing — he was out a hook, after all.
Without big-game hunting gear, his first order of business would be to find an ant. Preferably, one of the big, black ones that measured up the size of his hand, though, the finger-sized red ones would do just fine. He could skewer it through the middle and suspend it on a thread as bait, hoping the rest of the hill would do as they always did and return to pick up their dead, falling victim to the borrower’s little trap he’d created a few human-feet from his doorstep — a deep pit, about his height, lined with discarded vinyl from the bottoms of surfboards and slickened with bicycle oil, a grass-woven net pinned over the top fitted with holes just wide enough for an ant to easily squeeze through on its way in, but struggle to find its bearing through on its way out. 
He was proud of his trap, and even prouder of how successful it tended to be. His catches would make for good soups, slowly boiled over a low flame with stalks and flowers of dandelion, or seared in his beer bottle cap pan until it sizzled with a dark char. Or, in a pinch, Weld wasn’t above sinking his teeth into the hard shell of an ant, chewing through the crunchy exterior to the sour, almost zesty taste of its innards — a flavor the borrower was rather fond of. 
He pushed through the heavy brambles of bamboo and weeds atop the dunes, skulking along the plants as he listened for any too-loud movement that never came. He’d hoped his trusty trap at the base of his residence and dune would have dinner secure within an hour or so — given the circumstances he even found a few ants, or even just one, chittering to themselves at this time of night. 
With no bait suspended from the line, the weaved trap was empty, just as he suspected. Weld sighed, but turned his head to his next destination. The boardwalk, another few paces away, was sure to hold something living beneath it. The borrower wasn’t picky. He’d eat whatever managed to stumble into his path, granted it wouldn’t kill him — there was no food that Weld couldn’t tolerate enough to starve.
He ran his hand along the salt-dried beams of the boardwalk, and stared past the wooden slats at the stars. He liked this time of night. Just late enough for most of the humans to have found their way home, and the air could stretch into the silence, as if to take a much-needed breather from the noise of the day. 
If he could stand here forever and not worry about the ever-growing ache that tugged at his stomach and grew in his teeth, Weld would commit himself to watching the stars and listening to the distant crash of waves against the shore, or learning to cook more than just his mother’s ant soup and bottlecap-charred bugs. 
But he couldn’t. His stomach grumbled again, and he was pulled from his thoughts by the buzzing of wings — short bursts of flight that disturbed the weeds and kicked up grains of sand. A beetle, Weld determined. One of the green-brown ones with the oil-slick patterning and the little pair of antennae that reached out above its eyes. 
He turned on a heel, planting his feet in the loose sand to find a firm footing as he listened for the next intermittent buzz of the beetle. As soon as it came, Weld sprung into a dash towards a patch of moving bramble where the beetle must’ve just landed, thankful he’d already taken off his boots and tied them to his backpack by their laces — he’d learned quickly enough that it was harder to run when his boots sunk into the sand. When he broke past the weeds, there was another flurry of movement from his dinner, the iridescent bug lifting its antenna from its lazy probing around in the sand to flick its head in his direction, and rev up its wings for another burst of flight.
Weld was on it before its transparent wings could flit from beneath its exoskeleton. He pressed closed its elytra, his hands on either side of its bucking body as it clacked its mandible at him, alarmed. He supplemented a hand with a foot against one of its flanks as he reached quickly for his grapple, and wrapped the hook and rope around its belly — past wriggling legs and sharp claws, restraining its wings tightly to its abdomen so all it could do was buzz. Weld bent the beetle’s neck, and with his two longest teeth, pried the exoskeleton from its head until its legs no longer kicked.
He smiled to himself as he held the beetle to his chest. It was fairly small, and couldn't have been larger than his own forearm, including his hand. He could make it last a few meals if he tried; he plucked its spindly legs from its body and wrapped it in a blade of nearby crabgrass before stuffing it into his backpack. 
The beetle would make an easy roast. He could cook it over an open flame and scoop its congealed flesh right from its exoskeleton, and hope he had some extra left over for later. The little bit of meat in its legs could boil down to a broth, given he could find some herbs to toss in with them. Weld’s stomach eagerly rumbled. He thought he remembered where some chickweed and wild onions grew. Weld pushed a little deeper into the weeds, his search for an ant forgotten in hopes of something better.
Footsteps fell a few paces down the boardwalk, each step deliberately slow, rolling from heel to toe as the perpetrator did their very best to be as quiet as possible, despite their size. Weld froze. He slowly pivoted his head in hopes to get a glance at whoever had just approached, but the sickly feeling in his stomach practically told him all he needed to know — they stood just inches away from where he’d first been discovered by the human, shining a light into the gully where he had lay vulnerable. For all the weeds in the way of his vision, Weld couldn’t say for sure who the human was — until a familiar voice called out. “Hello?”
Weld bolted, the dune grass in his path a dead giveaway of his location, but he didn’t care. It was already too late — there was a heavy thump into the sand behind him, and the creaking and cracking of weeds and branches snapping underfoot as the human followed hot on his heels. He felt his heart choke him as it leapt into his throat, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the bile burning in his stomach. 
And then the dunes gave way to a wavering wall of green webbing and a bar of metal, all in one seemingly effortless motion.
Weld watched the netting fall around him, tangling up in the weeds and the dune grass in seconds — trapping him in the lush landscape with no way of exit. For a moment, he could feel his heart stop, as the aluminum handle dropped to the sand and two heavy footsteps landed just in front of him, two hands coming down quickly at their side. One was wrapped in bandages Weld realized as the human leaned on their forearms and stared down at the fruits of their capture with stars in their eyes.
Weld scrambled to find purchase beneath the rim of the net, digging at the sand to find it only forced his prison deeper into the ground. The human’s hands cleared a few of the weeds they had trapped alongside him, and curiously peered past the netting. The borrower didn’t hear the first few words that came out of the human’s mouth — rather, he didn’t process them. The buzzing of his ears seemed to drown out the frantic blabbering of the giant that loomed above him, their eyes making the skin on the back of his neck burn an itching heat. Weld backed away, gripping the metal rim as the human’s words slowly became apparent over his heaving breaths.
They’d straightened up by now, gesturing wildly in the flashlight’s glow, tugging at the bandages until they unraveled to reveal the swollen bite mark Weld had left on their hand from yesterday. “—kinda why I came out here,” Weld began to understand the human’s rambling, “Well… it wasn’t at first, but then the bump wasn’t gone in the— it doesn’t matter. You were cool, I wanted to know if I was insane, yada yada yada. That’s… uh… that was the main reason I wanted to come back out.”
Weld conspicuously tugged at the netting behind his back, rarely taking his eyes off of the wound. Looking at the tender, red skin of the human’s hand, Weld almost tasted the coppery blood on his tongue, and felt the warmth of their skin. The sensation made him gag.
“This bite isn’t gonna kill me, right?” The human suddenly questioned, panic in their voice, “‘Cause, it’s, like, not going away, man. And I don’t wanna have to go to the hospital and tell them that some little guy bit me. ‘Cause, that gets you in trouble, and it probably makes me look crazy…”
Weld realized, with some matter of satisfaction, that the events of the day before had been putting the human through their own bout of distress — though, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should’ve let up on his bite a bit earlier. He never thought it would cause that much of a reaction on a human, of all things.
“Are you sure you don’t have venom or anything?” they nervously itched at the spot, “Nothing that, uh, limits my life expectancy to forty-eight hours, or something?”
The borrower froze as the human went silent, waiting in earnest for an answer — one of the affirmative, that Weld was non-venomous, and the reaction they were having was completely harmless. But he couldn’t simply speak to clear the air about the bite — the borrower rules may not have been a proper part of his upbringing, but ‘no talking to humans’ meant no talking to humans, whether it was a borrower’s rule or his father’s rule.
He spared a glance down at the human’s hand, clasped in their other palm as they held it at their chest. He steadied his breath, which had turned into ragged panting throughout the conversation, and anxiously tangled his hand up in the net even further. To the human, he responded with a curt nod.
They paused. Sat back on their heels. Straightened their jaw and shifted their eyes. “Um…” they started, a slight quiver in their voice, “Is that a nod, like, ‘yes, I do have venom’? Or…?”
Weld quickly shook his head, lifting a corner of his lip while he did so to bear a set of sharp fangs, trying to communicate to the worried human that his teeth had no method of releasing venom as snakes did. Just pure, unadulterated bone. 
The human stared for a moment, then heaved forward with a heavy sigh, their body deflating until they rested on their forearms in the sand. “Thank god, dude,” they ran their fingers through their hair, “These bites were, like, super freaking me out.”
The borrower jumped to his feet, scrambling back to cradle himself in the netting — anything to get away from the human.
“Here, look, let me let you out,” the human perked up, propping the flashlight up against their backpack before slowly digging their hands beneath the metal rim, “I’m sorry about the net. I was, uh, debating bringing the thing last night, but then I worried I wouldn’t be able to talk to you… kinda harsh, though.”
Weld could feel the netting being lifted away, letting the relief of an exit wash over him — before he felt a sharp pull at his arm as the man’s former prison reached out of range. In all of his incessant worrying at the cords of the net, tugging at individual fibers in the meager hopes he could unravel them enough to tear a large enough hole to slip out through, Weld had found his arm twisted up in the human’s artificial webbing, like self-afflicted handcuffs. 
Strung up by his wrist, Weld couldn’t help the strangled yelp that escaped past his lips as his feet briefly left the ground. He reached for his grapple, hoping the little, sharpened hook would be enough to slash through the netting that kept him suspended — but the hurried movement only exacerbated the borrower’s struggle, the rope tightening until the skin around the area pinched white. 
“Ah!” the human exclaimed, gently lowering the net back to the sand, though with the forethought to place the lot of it off to the side enough so as not to keep the borrower beneath it, “Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t see you were so… stuck!”
Weld had yet to speak, hesitantly sparing a glance up at the human who had now leaned to loom over him with worried eyes. He sawed at his bonds, the barbs of his grapple catching on the netting at each push-and-pull, only forming little knots from the fibers each point loosened. Dread made his efforts more frantic as his plan continued to fail, and the matted knots of green nylon around his wrist only grew larger. 
The borrower slumped to the ground, defeated, and he could feel the burning prick of frustrated tears finally come to his eyes — they fell before he could blink them away, a few rolling down his cheeks and catching in the thick of his beard. Weld watched the shadow of the human encroach overhead, and one of those massive hands slowly inched towards his webbed arm. 
“Hey, alright,” the human spoke softly, and taking the chance of a distraction, slipped a hand behind the borrower, “Stop squirming for a minute, I’m gonna try to untangle this thing. But you got yourself pretty stuck, so, uh, it might take a while.”
Weld felt those fingers on his back again like he had the day before, and his body fell frighteningly still. He could feel the cushion of fresh medical wraps around the human’s palm, and the incessant warmth that, as always, started through them. But, more pressing was the sudden pressure on either side of his wrist as an enormous index finger and thumb caught it in a pinch.
The human heaved a sigh of relief at Weld’s stillness, and shifted their hand to gently hold his atop the pad of a fingertip. “Good! This is— okay,” they took a deep breath as they leaned forward, and started to gently tug on the first nylon knot, shifting the excess of the net off of the borrower, “Sorry, I know I got you into this. With the… net and everything. But, uh, I’m gonna get you out of it! So please, just relax… and trust me…”
Weld held his tongue between his teeth. He watched with wide eyes every move the human made, his back beginning to ache as he refused to lean against their hand, though glad to no longer be surrounded by the green netting. Every part of him was stiff as a board, agonizingly tense with adrenaline for the unpredictability of the giant stranger — who, for right now, had held him gently in their palms the last two times they had met, though he never knew how quickly that could change. The warmth was overbearing, a stifling heat as if the human held the very air around themself in an atmosphere of their own, and he couldn’t stop the other half of his brain from reminding him how these stories usually ended. 
He hated that feeling, that fear that he was going to be hurt; Weld knew nothing about the stranger besides that they were human, and something told him he couldn’t judge the content of their heart based solely on that. But he couldn’t help that his nerves buzzed every time the human touched him or stared at him for too long — it was just… instinct. 
His breath caught tightly in his throat as he stared past the human’s glasses and into dark-brown eyes, their gaze too focused on the borrower’s predicament to notice his intense studying. Two fingers gently tugged on his wrist with a strength he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Weld decided, despite his unfamiliarity with the human’s values, he didn’t like being held very much.
“My name’s Gio,” the human started, after a brief pause to clear their throat, “Uh, I don’t think I’ve actually said that yet… I’ve done all this to you and I haven’t even given you my name yet, ha— but, I guess, there it is.”
They pulled each nylon thread across his skin — back, forward, tight, loose — until the fibers left red lines in a cuff around his wrist. Weld couldn’t help but stare them right in the face as they continued their work, watching for something to change in their expression of tongue-biting focus. 
The human, or ’Gio’, as Weld had learned, caught the little, staring eyes of the borrower, and quickly lowered them back to the sand with an awkward laugh — all attempts to ignore the absurdity of the situation, despite having been the one to cause it. Weld’s breath hitched every time one of their fingers reached from the palm at his back and encroached within his personal space to graze curiously against his body. But, he never could unfreeze himself from his spot — not so long as the human still kept his wrist in a gentle pinch. 
“You don’t happen to have a name…” the human started, daring to steal a glance at the borrower, “Do you?”
Weld held their gaze, regardless of that burning sensation at the nape of his neck that made his stomach turn. He nervously tugged at his trapped wrist, and his expression twisted to a hunted grimace. Everything felt terribly wrong, sitting captured in a giant’s hand and being asked questions so casually, like nothing was the issue — yet something in him, past the bile that rose in his throat and the sickly look on his face, wanted to nod. The answer was short, small. Just one, nearly imperceptible movement — up and down. 
But even the smallest movement was enough for Gio. The human’s smile cracked from ear to ear — to Weld, a painfully toothy sight that filled the whole of his vision, and sent a prickling heat through each strand of wiry fur across his back. They stared for a moment longer, just enough for Weld to realize he couldn’t take it for another second as he began to tug on his entrapped arm again. “I figured you did,” they exclaimed, voice hushed, turning back to the work at hand, “Everyone has a name. My real name is Giorgio. Most people call me Gio — you could, too, if you want… I actually prefer it — but my mom still calls me Giorgio.” 
The netting tugged roughly on the borrower’s arm, and Weld responded with a sharp grimace. Gio lightly hissed, and mumbled an apology. “Um… I don’t think I’m gonna be able to untangle you like this,” they admitted, sheepishly raising their gaze from Weld’s surely-by-now welt-covered hand, and the borrower decided he didn’t like where this was going. The human reached one hand away and patted at their backpack, until they pulled out a folded-up knife, “But I could cut you out of it…?”
Weld was weighing his options as he stared at the utility knife in Gio’s hand, luckily still hidden away in its metal frame. But, as he stared at the handle of a folded blade that nearly sized him up, from what he could tell, Weld considered which option made the sickness in his stomach settle the quickest — continued manhandling by a giant, or the cold sting of a blade against his skin, for just a moment? He paused, as if to consider something again… then his free hand grabbed hold of the netting and tugged on it with a pointed stare at Gio.
The human cocked their head. “What? The net?” They tightened their grip on the knife, then their face lit up in realization, “Oh! Yeah, the net! I’m gonna cut the net! Not— not your arm!”
Weld drew his body away from his arm, sticking the offending limb in its tangled mess as far from himself as he could before giving a stiff, hesitant nod to the human that loomed above him. They opened the knife with a sharp click — Weld’s hair stood on end, and he grimaced as he hung his head low, refusing to watch as the human lowered the tool to level with the delicate limb that he held out of the net as a hopeful sacrifice. Both of the human’s hands fell heavily around him — the air becoming humid and hot as the cool metal connected with his skin, lodging itself beneath the tangle of the net while Weld pitifully pressed his back against the soft palm surrounding him, a watering eye squinting open with morbid curiosity to watch the scene before him.
The pocket blade — a bit dull near the ends and scratched from whatever business — sawed at the net, the serrated bit at its center catching the filaments of the green webbing and doing most of the human’s dirty work, back and forth until Weld could almost begin to feel a line of raw, red skin form on his arm where the back end of the knife had left an irritated scrape. A few of the cords snapped, Weld noted with a soft gasp, and he could begin to wiggle his arm free — but the powerful pinch on his forearm convinced him to do otherwise. 
“Just a little more…” Gio promised, and Weld forced both his eyes open to stare at the human who, just for a moment, went back to their tongue-biting face of focus before they decided to speak again, “I am actually really sorry for, y’know, getting you into all this…” they murmured, not taking their eyes off the work at hand as another few pieces snapped, “Is there any way I can make it up to you? Help you out a bit?”
Weld thought back to the scarcity of his shelves lining the storeroom of his burrow — the driving factor behind this trip in the first place — and furrowed his brow. He didn’t much like the idea of taking food from a strange human, especially not after they’d caught him in a net and he’d sunken his teeth into their skin just the day before, but the risk of starving was even less savory, and the offer was staring him right in the face. He wiped his eyes of their watering tears.
Gio brought their knife through the last cord of nylon, and the borrower was pulling his arm free and standing to reel a few steps away from the human before they could even give the go-ahead, “You… beat me to it!” They sighed, sitting back on their heels, and stowed the pocket knife in its place in their backpack, “Um. I guess that’s a big, hard ‘no’ on the help thing, then, yeah?”
The borrower paused, weighing his options once more before hesitantly raising his hands to mime the gesture of biting a piece of food — grasping the air in front of himself and lifting it to his mouth, taking an exaggerated chomp out of the imaginary meal.
Gio cocked their head, and squinted a bit at the sudden display. “…What?”
Weld mimed the action again, this time more insistent.
“Oh!” Gio tapped their head, “Watermelon.”
He had to try a different avenue. Weld pointed at the human’s backpack, just off to their side, and took a cautious step towards Gio’s shoe.
“My backpack?” Gio glanced at it, “There’s not much in it. Kinda just, like, the typical stuff; water bottle, bug spray, pocket knife, a snack, my house keys—“
Gio was distracted by the pantomime borrower whose superstition was proven right. He brought his hands to his face at double speed, and this time the human copied him.
It clicked. “Food!” Gio exclaimed, “You want food!”
Weld couldn’t help his relieved sigh, and the slight smile that cracked along his lips, if only for a second. He nodded. 
The human’s eyes glimmered with excitement as they quickly rummaged around in their backpack, barely taking an eye off the borrower. “You smiled!” They laughed, “Just barely, but— but you did! Here, look—“
A loose fist was swung down in front of him, grasping a peeled-open bar of food that Weld only slightly recognized — the families on the boardwalk beside his home would carry them along, and the men at the mechanics would pack them for their lunches. Weld jumped at the sudden approach, but leaned in after a second when the sickly-sweet scent overwhelmed his senses. It reminded him of honeysuckle.
“It’s a granola bar. It’s got, like, ah…” Gio pulled back the packaging a bit, ”…peanuts, oats, and chocolate. I think they’re pretty good. So, dig in!”
Weld inched forward, eyeing the bar and the fist that held it, then plucked a whole peanut out of the sticky sugar with both of his hands. He gave the human a lopsided grin. 
“Do you want more?” They asked, shrugging, “If not, I’ll probably just eat the rest. No use wasting it.”
The peanut was set aside in the sand in the face of a better goal. Weld reached out for more, trying this time to break off a chunk of the bar much bigger than last time — about the length of his forearm, both across and long. The grains that messily crumbled into his hands he quickly brought to his mouth, while the rest was stored away in his pack. He turned his attention, again, to the peanut, its sticky coating covered in grains of sand, but easily picked off despite it all. Weld gnawed at the sweet snack, finding a spot he felt comfortable enough planting his feet to pause to eat, although he was charged to dash at a moment's notice.
The human smiled, seemingly satisfied that the borrower hadn’t fled the second he’d gotten his hands on what he’d wanted. They splayed a leg out in front of them — slowly, enough warning for the borrower to step carefully out of the way of the massive action, and another forewarning as the other leg followed — until they were sitting just a few feet across from the little redhead. They took a bite of the remaining granola bar, tapped once on the device sitting idly in their lap, and shrugged.
Weld got the feeling this night was going to last longer than he had once hoped.
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ks-dreams-fantasies ¡ 4 years ago
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You don’t want to miss dessert - Rio (Good Girls)
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Ok so let’s be honest, last night’s episode was just pure teasing, the hands, the smirks, the bedroom scene. God have mercy I’m about to bust 😂 The thought of Rio making you cum into his hands in his own family home while everyone is waiting outside is just 👅 Enjoy this one 😏
Warning : Smut
Word Count : 1.6k (Not proofread)
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Being in business with Rio was definitely a challenge for you. You’ve had your arguments over the past 2 years, them not always ending well. You had wanted out after 8 months, but he wouldn’t let you do that. He had threatened you for you to come back to work with him. The problem with your relationship, was that both of you always wanted to be right and have the upper hand. He loved that you were daring and confident, but he often needed to remind you who was boss.
You could say your relationship was complicated. It was only business related, even though the both of you had slept together a couple of times before, not making it a recuring thing. Three times, you had slept together three times since you had met him, each time better than the other. You would be lying if you said you weren’t drawn and attracted to Rio. Hell, even his name made you feel puddy. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever hooked up with before. Maybe it was the fact that you never really met someone like him, which is normal cause Rio is unique.
People wouldn’t necessary imagine the both of you working and being together, but that’s why it made perfect sense. Neither your entourage nor the FBI would suspect you to be in business with a guy like him. By the look of it, you seem to live in two different worlds, but you were very much alike. You needed to be in control, just like him and you had a certain way to plan and do things, which matched his way to do business.
He thrusted you, and he had spoken to you about meeting important people, which you were nervous for. You didn’t want to imagine someone more dangerous and intimidating than him, but you tried to prepare yourself for the worse. You were supposed to meet later that day and he had texted you the address. Parts of you was always being skeptical about his next move, fearing something bad could happen to you, not that you had anything to hide.
Being on your way to meet him, you felt the palms your hands getting sweaty, wiping them off on the black dress you chose to wear. Just like Rio, dark colors were your go to, often wearing dresses and skirts to show your legs. You got out of the car, walking slowly towards the red door, knocking on it lightly.
“Hey mama” a deep throaty voice startled you, making you turn around to see your boss boarding a slight smirk on his face, eyeing you up and down.
You felt your cheeks getting warmer as he motioned for you to follow him through the backyard. You got nervous for a minute but once you passed the wooden door, you saw kids running around and the smell of grilled food making your mouth water calmed you down. He walked towards the table, putting his arms around an older lady’s shoulder, bringing her closer to him.
“This is my boss” he said, looking at her, then diverting his eyes towards yours quickly
“I’m just his grandmother” she said, chuckling lightly before looking back at you. “You must be (Y/N)”
“I am” you answered, nodding softly
“Well, both of you come take your seat, you arrived just in time for dinner” she said motioning her hands towards the table, where a few plates were already laid down. Rio pulled your chair as you sat down, mumbling a quick thank you, string at him as he took the seat next to you. You were getting slightly less nervous as all of you ate your delicious food while talking and laughing.
“So how do you know my uncle?” a 10-year-old kid asked you, taking a bite of his chicken.
“She’s just a work friend, bud” Rio answered for you
“What’s she do?” the kid asked again, looking at his uncle
“Um, she helps me out” he said looking at you “That right?” Rio smirked at you as you nodded
“That all?” the guy in front of him asked, stepping into the conversation, looking devilishly at the both of you. “Heard a lot about you (Y/N)” he continued as you felt Rio getting tense beside you.
“Um yeah, that’s all” you said slightly blushing, feeling Rio’s hand on your back, rubbing it slowly. He changed the subject, knowing his cousin was making you uncomfortable. You continued eating quietly as they all laughed and talked together. You could feel his hands on your back still, pushing back your chair before excusing yourself.
“I’m sorry, is there a bathroom I could use please?” You smiled slightly at Rio’s grandma, as she gave you direction. You made your way inside, finding the bathroom easily. You did what you had to do, and washed your hands looking at yourself in the mirror, reapplying your lip gloss. You could hear the sound of their laughter from where you were, making you sight lightly.
You got out, making your way through the hallway, passing a bedroom, which seemed to be his grandmother’s. You stopped by the door, seeing some picture frames placed neatly on a bookshelf, making you walked closer into the room to look closely at them. You picked a picture of a young Rio graduating into your hands and it made you wonder what he studied. You didn’t picture him as a big school person, so you were surprised to say the least. You jumped slightly as Rio’s husky voice, interrupted you.
“What are you doing?” he said, leaning against the door frame, looking at you, deeply.
“I don’t know, I just got curious” you shrugged your shoulders, watching his every moves. He moved closer to you, making you hold your breath, nervous and aroused. He made you weak in the knees and you could hardly speak without getting flustered. Even thought you were a confident woman, his body close to yours always had that effect on you, and he knew it. You turned towards the bookcase again, feeling his firm chest pressing against your back, as he picked up a smaller picture frame, the both of you looking at it.
“You find anything interesting?” he asked, his mouth next to your ear, sending down shivers down your spine. He put the frame back, his arms brushing yours lightly, making you turn around to face him. His eyes burned into yours, waiting for your answer. You licked your lips, looking at your fumbling hands before meeting his dark eyes again
“I don’t know” you said, feeling bold you dropped both of your hands on his chest, sliding them down until they could rest on the waistband of his pants “You tell me” you stated, before unbuckling his belt.
He stopped you, grabbing your wrist softly, making you look at him a blush creeping onto your cheeks. He shook his head slightly, putting your hand down and dragging his towards your thigh. His finger danced on your soft skin, goosebumps rising onto your body. He lifted your leg slowly, resting it on his waist. His face now in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning over throat, making you close your eyes, appreciating the moment. You felt his long fingers trail up to the side of your emerald, green lace panties, before making his way to your dripping core, spreading your juices, letting out a throaty groan.
The sound of him only making you wetter, his finger making its way into your warm tight flesh. A quiet moan erupted from your mouth as you grabbed his shoulder firmly, bringing him even closer to you. The room was silent, except for the sounds of his digits pumping in and out of you quickly. Your breathing was getting heavier, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, trying to keep your moans to yourself. His thumb found his way to your clit, massaging it slowly, putting just enough pressure to make your body quiver.
He inserted another finger inside of your leaking fold, fastening his pace, making you clench around him. One of your hand traveled to his neck, digging your fingers into the back of it, as he let out a deep groan next to your ear.
“R-Rio” you mumbled quietly, clenching your eyes shut, feeling your climax approaching by the second.
“I know mama” he whispered “let it go” right when the words left his lips, you felt yourself relax into his embrace, as your orgasm took over you. He helped you ride it out, pumping his fingers slowly, before removing them from your inside. You faltered your dress as he moved towards the door.
“Hurry up, you don’t want to miss dessert” he said smirking before leaving you all flustered into his grandma’s bedroom. You waited a few minutes, before following behind him, joining the others around the table outside.
“Ahhh here she is. We wondered where you’ve been” Rio’s cousin exclaimed as you sat down. “Pie?” he handed you a plate, not waiting for your reply. You took it, placing it in front of you listening to the older lady speak. As you all finished your dessert, you saw Rio from the corner of your eyes, dig his finger into the whipped cream remaining on his plate, and popping them into his mouth sucking slowly on them. You could feel his eyes on you, and you could only imagine him smirking as his tongue lapped at his finger, the same fingers that were minutes ago buried into your tight pussy. Just the thought of him tasting the remaining of your hot fluid made you clench your thighs together, Rio not missing the sight of you getting flustered again.
“Mhh … I think this must be the best dessert I’ve ever tasted”
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Thanks for reading
Hope you liked it, let me know what you think
-K
1K notes ¡ View notes
beomglocks ¡ 3 years ago
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happy (very) 'belated' father’s day
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summary : the only father willing to come to the dinner
pairing : dilf neighbor!soobin x (legal)!reader x beomgyu (?)
warnings & other: i wrote the day after fathers day, the title is edited bc im posting this like WAY later LOL, threesome (?), degradation, some beomgyu (no incest), sub!beomgyu if you squint like really fucking hard, definitely not a normal relationship, slight exhibitionism, some possessiveness, DON’T read if you’re uncomfortable with age gaps, edit: REwriting this, this one is for the dilf soobin stans, eat up, don't say i don't feed yall, enjoy <3, kind of proofread
w/c : ~4k
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you realize it now.
after living side by side with mr. choi soobin and his son, beomgyu, for a couple of weeks, you’ve started to realize something quite interesting.
1. your mother has a liking for tall lean men.
2. she also has a liking for trying to set you up with the tall lean mens’ son.
now, you wouldn't say you're exactly opposed to getting close to beomgyu. he's conventionally attractive and he seems like a nice boy but you're very much more attracted to the one who created him. it made sense after all.
"give these to mr. choi for me?" your mother all but shoves the roses and chocolates in your arms. you look down quizzically at such gifts. "it's not valentine's day.." you trail off.
you have a strange feeling that soobin would be put off by such acts, not seeming to be as out there as your mother. she doesn't care.
"it's fathers day..well it was...yesterday," she shrugs, fixing her bombshell red lipstick. why was she doing herself up? well a certain mr. choi was coming over.
despite the fact that your own father was out of the picture, that didn't stop your mom from wanting to celebrate every holiday in existence. unfortunately, the only willing father in town to partake in your mother's antics was mr. choi.
he liked to rile her up, you notice. soobin liked to toy with your mother's clear affection towards him, just as he did you. he also liked to throw it in your face sometimes. you didn't say what you observed but you knew he liked to make her feel wanted by a much younger, much more handsome man.
without another word, you decide to give the outlandish gifts to your neighbor. you sigh, looking down at the gifts. some assorted chocolates, nice flower arrangements, and what seems to be a sealed note? you want to roll your eyes but a part of you wonders if soobin would really like these kinds of things.
when you get to the door and ring the bell, the door swings open and there's stands the man himself. he's more put together than you at the moment so you feel out of place even at the front step of his house.
"always a pleasant surprise~" he smiles. his eyes trail down to the gifts in your arms. "for me?" his eyes grow wide and his pouty lips, the ones which you suddenly can't stop staring at since they seemed to be stained cherry red, lay slightly agape.
"from my mom," you deadpan, holding the gifts out. "she's generous~" "overbearing," you correct. "we seem to have different views then," he shrugs. "where's my gift from you though? this can't be all," he ponders in faux thought.
you smile shyly, looking down in embarrassment. "what did you get me baby?" he teasingly leans down closer to you to properly see your face. "could it be perhaps-"
before soobin can place a hand on you, beomgyu comes from downstairs. he's looking sharp, which suits him a lot, you admit. his hair is parted, giving you a teasing view of his forehead. regardless of the fact that he's wearing casual clothes, a stark contrast from his father who dawns an all black attire, beomgyu still manages to make it work for him.
"we'll be seeing you at the dinner," soobin clears his throat, noticing your apparent staring at his son. you can tell that he feels off put by your slight attraction to beomgyu. however small or minuscule it may be its still there to him.
the dinner goes almost exactly how you thought it would. soobin and your mother hit it off, talking about whatever they could to distract themselves from their children for a while. to your surprise soobin barely interacts with you. he seems too occupied with entertaining your mom to pay you any mind.
you're not sure why but this bothers you. beomgyu is occupied in the bathroom at the moment so you can't help but glance in their direction every couple of seconds. your mom is currently leaning against soobin's broad shoulder, laughing at something he's previously said. so he’s a comedian.
you watch as he looks down at her with a satisfied smile on his face. you bite the inside on your cheek and as if on cue, soobin looks up in your direction and smirks. it's almost as if he's taunting you. you bite down harder until you taste something metallic in your mouth.
you're not sure where this feeling of jealously is coming from and you know it's not healthy but you can't help it. maybe you've gotten too attached to your older neighbor in these past couple of weeks.
beomgyu comes out of the restroom with a sigh, walking back into the living room where you are. he can feel a weird tension in your general area but decides not to comment on it. suddenly you stand up, catching beomgyu off guard.
"come on beomgyu!" you say loud enough for everyone to hear especially soobin. the man in question practically pauses in speech midway to look over at you and his son. he eyes you both, mainly giving you a glare that will be engraved in your mind but you don't care. he needs a taste of his own medicine.
"come on let's go to my room, i need to show you something~" you urge him along. meanwhile, you say those words while staring straight at soobin. you hear your mom assure him that it's ok, "the kids are doing their own thing." you knew you were being childish and petty but if soobin wanted to fuck around with you this is what he would have to deal with as well.
you drag beomgyu along to your room who seems quite eager to be in this position. all he knows is that there's a weird tension between you and his father but that's as far as his knowledge goes.
when you both arrive at your room you close the door behind you and lean back on it. "is everything alright?" beomgyu hesitantly asks. you sigh, ushering him along to sit on the bed with you. he looks around subtly at all the little items in your room. everything seems to reflect you well, in his opinion. "well.." you try to stall.
you look up at him through your lashes. "you like me right?" beomgyu stares at you with wide eyes, "i-i mean yeah?" he stutters at your boldness.
"then lets try something," you smile at him, casually pulling your shirt over your head. "let's see how long it takes for your dad to come see us in this position," you say to yourself.
soobin doesn't need to be a rocket scientist to know what's going on here. he knows you're being a brat on purpose but he doesn't care because it makes it all the more fun. he will say he's surprised that you're using beomgyu, his own son, to get to him.
at first, he was getting annoyed with how you seemed to take a liking for his son which is why he wanted to rile you up by seeming extra interested in whatever your mom had to say. now, however, he knew he had a plan for that. you were not going to outsmart him, he wouldn't allow it and he would just have to put you in your place.
"excuse me but i need to use your restroom," soobin makes up a bullshit excuse to get to where you are. "oh of course!" your mom nods at him, instructing him towards the one upstairs. perfect.
"ill just finish up the dinner then!" your mother offers. "great that's enough time to put this slut in her place," he thinks. he smiles at your mom heading for upstairs.
"beomgyu you look like you just saw a ghost," you chuckle lightly, looking down at him. "y/n," he groans at the sight of only seeing you in your bra. he reaches up to grab your breasts, fondling them as delicately as possible. "you can be rough," you offer.
without even bothering to knock on the door, soobin opens it to see you both on the bed in a lewd position. you shirtless on top of beomgyu. he sucks his teeth when you both look back in alarm at the door being burst open. "y/n," he chuckles, almost sadistically.
you can already see the look in his eyes and suddenly you feel bad for not only yourself but beomgyu as well. you try to subtly grab your shirt again in shame but soobin's glare stops you. "what do you think you're doing little slut?" he folds his arms over his chest. not even caring that beomgyu is in the room, he walks over to you and grabs your hair causing you to yelp in surprise.
"s-sir.." soobin narrows his eyes at you then they flit over to beomgyu. "sit over there," he motions to the beanbag in the corner of the room. "i want you to learn something from this." without another word, beomgyu scrambles over to the seat, his heart beating in fear and excitement strangely.
you feel heat rising up your neck and to your cheeks as well as your dripping pussy. "don't be embarrassed, im sure this was your plan all along," soobin tsks, shoving your face down into the sheets. you breathe out when he rips the skirt and underwear from your body without a second thought. the racy thong that was supposed to be his surprise for father's day discarded in a second.
"soobin-" a smack to your ass. "that's not my name."
he doesn't even give you a chance to correct yourself, messing with your sticky juices before entering his cold fingers into your hole. you try to stifle your moan by burying your head further into the sheets.
"god you're so wet," soobin comments. he slowly moves his finger in and out for a while, practically torturing you with how meticulous and slow he's being. "please," you whine pathetically. "please what?" he slows his movements to stare at you with a raised eyebrow.
"please f-fuck me, please, i need your cock," you beg shamelessly. beomgyu breathes heavily, trying to forget about his growing boner but not being able to ignore it. he painfully wants to do something about it but he's not sure if he's allowed to touch himself.
he opts for subtly dragging his hand to his clothed crotch and palming himself through his pants, as uncomfortable as it is. in the meantime, soobin rids himself of his own pants, shaking his head.
he lightly smacks your throbbing pussy and you jolt. "do you seriously think you deserve it? fuck, look at you, can’t wait to be fucked like a bitch in heat~" you whine, wiggling your ass wordlessly in his face to hopefully get what you want.
soobin rubs your clit with narrowed eyes, making sure beomgyu is watching. he could care less that beomgyu is touching himself. he drags some of your cum from your hole to your clit and sighs. "alright then.."
he aligns himself with your hole and without another word slips his cock in with ease, completely bottoming out.
you want to scream at how big he is but you're only left with ragged pants as you know you're unable to make any loud noises. it seriously feels like you could be torn apart at any minute but you love the feeling of soobin’s cock filling you out.
"you're so tight seriously," soobin breathes. he can barely move at first. the way his dick fits inside of your pussy perfectly. he almost wants to comment about how you were practically made for him. he's sure if he flips you over right now, he would see the outline of his cock in your womb.
after waiting a bit for you to adjust to his length he finally starts moving. "shit-" he breathes. you have to grip the sheets to stop yourself from yelling. soobin's hands find their way to your waist and when you look to the side just for a split second you can see beomgyu fighting for his life to not moan out loud.
"look beomgyu-" soobin says in between jagged breaths. "if you wanna fuck around with his pathetic slut this is how you treat her." a moan gets caught in your throat when soobin pounds into you at once. "ah- i-" a part of you wants to apologize and is trying to but he won't give you a chance to speak.
"isn't that right my slutpuppy? did you have something to add?" at the sound of the nickname your walls tighten around him and he sends a harsh smack to your ass. "you're enjoying this aren't you?" he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily.
soobin thrusts start getting faster and faster, beomgyu watching with his mouth agape at his father kissing and sucking at your neck to muffle his own moans. beomgyu can only bite his lip and noises from his throat barely pass his lips as he reaches his high.
soobin growls at seeing your eyes focus on beomgyu so he starts slamming his cock into you at an animalistic pace and you think you might break.
beomgyu bucks into his hand as he cums from the sound and sight of skin slapping added with the tiny noises you'd make. not too long after you feel yourself shudder, unable to warn soobin that you had come you squeeze your eyes shut and let out a whine instead.
"fuck- ok baby," soobin understands as soon as your walls squeeze around him. he pants a couple a times and as soon as he reaches his high he pulls out, pumping his cock to let his cum shoot out on your ass.
"s-sir," you moan. "shhh it's ok." soobin sighs heavily, coming down from his own high to tend to your broken state. he looks over at beomgyu, who's head is lulled to the side as he gazes at your sweat and semen covered body.
soobin sucks his teeth deciding not to say anything to the boy and let him chill for a minute. he shrugs his pants back on and carries you in his arms to the nearest bathroom.
you cozy up to his warm embrace, letting out a sigh. "baby we need to clean you off.." you hear him whisper. you almost completely forget that there's a dinner that's supposed to be happening and you cant just go to sleep with soobin like you'd want.
a sudden coldness hits your body and you shiver. "ok," you agree. his cum is already starting to dry on you and you want nothing more than to be cleaned like he offers. you're not sure how you'll explain your change of clothes to your mom but you're sure you'll come up with something later.
no words need to be spoken after what happened and you're glad because you're not sure what to say. soobin doesn't seem keen on talking at the moment either, too focused on cleaning you off, so you decide to stay quiet.
it's silent in the bathroom until you both hear your mother all out. "dinner's ready!"
you chuckle, breaking the silence as soobin looks up at you with a questioning eyebrow. “happy father’s day.”
713 notes ¡ View notes
ihatebnha ¡ 4 years ago
Note
Yes hi can I geettttttt one large Katsuki with a side of dick please?
yes ma'am coming right up....... ok its ready come pick it up at the register
keyword: LARGE katsuki... extra large... 2 XL.... 3 xl.... head go brrrrr
premise: where in which you model dynamight’s new clothing line and for whatever reason dynamight himself can’t keep his hands off of u...
enjoy <3<3 i kinda popped off lowkey (even tho i ended up using his hero name smh im sowwy)
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It’s not like you’re small.
You think you’re a good size. Absolutely fine, of a perfect height, in a perfect body, everything. There is not a single thing about you that isn’t normal or expected, and for all the time you spend thinking about your looks, in the end, your body, for all it’s worth, is yours and actually quite comfortable.
But damn. If Katsuki Bakugo, the infamous, the incredible, Dynamight, isn’t one of the largest men you have ever seen in your fucking life.
In comparison to him, you might as well be the size of a kid. A doll.
It’s not like you didn’t know this... or at least, could have guessed. His height is broadcasted to the world in all the interviews he’s in, and mentioned in almost every hero gossip magazine like it’s the only cool thing about him… It’s just that, in real life, he’s a bit more... imposing… than you thought he would be. 
The only real images you have of him are from the sports festivals you watched when you were younger, and the blurry shots from the news that play on repeat almost every day.
Neither of which truly encapsulate the sheer size of him in comparison to you, and really, what a powerhouse of a man he actually is.
Bakugo towers over everyone, at least by a full head, and what he doesn’t have in height, he makes up for in bulk. His body is nothing less than that of a statue’s, and by all means just goes to show anyone, villain or not, that he is an absolute machine of destruction, a predator, you name it, wrapped in muscle and sinew and brutal, pink scars.
And he is currently shirtless, standing on the well-lit, white tarp of the studio background, waiting for you.
“Where’s the new extra?”
He bemoans, his expression curved into a mean scowl, practically stomping a foot in the direction of his manager, to which your stomach does flip flops and your heart sinks. Too busy caught up in watching him from afar, you rush to pull off the robe they draped you in and hurry to his side, dressed only in a Dynamight themed lingerie set and boots, held together with ridged, green garters.
“I’m here, I’m sorry, I-“
Bakugo’s eyes flit to yours, halting your nervous words instantly, before moving his gaze to look you up and down as he nods his head back and gestures to his side.
“Doesn’t matter now,” he purrs, his voice deep and rough, a hand reaching out to grab your arm, “Get over here.”
You nod, quickly, your teeth knocking together as you move into position beside him and face the camera that’s been teasing you since you got here.
Hired to model a new line of intimate, Dynamight clothing march, you know that his agency only called you because everyone else on their roster had quit. They called you because supposedly Dynamight was sick of looking at “models…” and said that out of everyone, you were the only one he had approved of… Though you know that probably just means that all the other girls were chased away by Bakugo’s mean snarl, and you were the first replacement to answer the phone.
Still…
Part of you doesn’t entirely believe that, at least if the way you feel Katsuki Bakugo practically salivating over your shoulder is anything to go by, his wide chest against your back as he very, non-discreetly presses his hips into your ass and runs his thick hand over your sides.
And when the sounds of shutters start going off, your expression now neutralized for the camera and nervousness long buried for another time, you can’t help but let yourself lean back into him, your hands moving to rest on his as he grips your waist with the strength only a hero in the Top Ten could have.
-
If you thought that Bakugo was large before… you are definitely not disappointed now.
You are on your knees in front of him, his legs spread to accommodate the way you sit between them, and your hands on his thighs as he hastily frees his cock from the cage that is his sweatpants.
You can’t help but gape, staring open-mouthed at the already hard member, which curves upward toward his belly and is surrounded by fine, blonde pubes.
“Surprised?” he mutters, a knowing lilt to his raspy voice, enjoying the sight of you going slack jawed, and he smirks at your expression, his canines bared and eyes heavy-lidded.
It’s large. So large you suddenly wonder what you’re doing, and how the hell you’re going to please him properly. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve seen probably... ever, and though the feelings are mostly overwhelmed by a twisted sense of desire, fear strikes your heart when you think about taking him in your mouth and… elsewhere.
You narrow your eyes, one hand reaching out to gently grip the shaft, the head unashamedly dripping a milky precum which you use to give him a few timid pumps before looking to his eyes for confirmation that that is what he wants.
He groans immediately, almost sounding relieved, throwing his head back onto the back of the chair as you shyly work him.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, you know,” he says into the air, “You and that fuckin’ body.”
To be honest, it’s no surprise, especially when you consider how he practically didn’t take his hands off you the entire shoot, and think about the fact that in more than a few of the photos you took, his mouth was on some part of your body…
You can’t help but worry your lip between your teeth thinking about it, blinking up at him and staying silent.
“What, you scared of me or something, baby?”
Bakugo tilts his head toward yours, an eyebrow raised in question, aiming to close the gap between your faces but not quite entirely. 
“No, I just…” you hesitate, unsure of how to proceed. If anyone knows how attractive Bakugo is, it’s he himself, and you definitely don’t want to ruin the moment by saying something stupid.
You also don’t want him in on the information that you’ve never been with a guy so big, alongside the fact that you’ve never been with a Pro Hero of his caliber, either, afraid that maybe he’ll mock you for your inexperience or sudden petulance, and in thinking so, you settle with a shrug, a smile, and a simple,
“I’m just nervous.”
Though your hand on his dick slows to an embarrassing stop, being that you’re too preoccupied with trying to fight the urge to shy away from his intense red eyes, his smile only returns, still cocky, still Bakugo, but nonetheless quite sweet. 
And in his smile, in the way he wraps one hand around yours on his cock before leaning down to kiss you, it doesn’t take much thought to know that he’ll most definitely take care of you, big dick or not. 
He’s a hero, after all, the biggest one you know. 
-
The pictures end up being released about a month later, to which all of your friends (and almost the entirety of Japan) immediately pick up their phone to ask you about. They gush over Dynamight, telling you how lucky you are to have scored the modeling gig, to have been so up close and personal with the Dynamight himself, but you can only laugh in response.
Looking at the photos, though, you can see what they mean, as once again you are reminded of just the sheer size of him, the images doing nothing to hide the way your head doesn’t even reach his chin, or how his fingers on your waist easily dip toward your belly button in a tight squeeze.
Or the fact that in all of them, he looks at you like he’s absolutely, positively smitten.
And from the glaring, possessive look in his eyes, you are also reminded of your escapade in the dressing room, the way Bakugo smiled at you, and the large cock that will haunt your sexual fantasies for the rest of your life.  
It’s honestly no wonder that, when the Dynamight himself posts a photo from the shoot on his personal page, the caption is a bold, “call me.”
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rabdoidal ¡ 3 years ago
Note
ok idm public but its like, A Lot so here goes: Im a pretty new DM, ive only ever done little homebrew things with a few people at a time that havent gone anywhere. Currently, ive taken over as DM from a long running game involving 3 of my friends and my older sister/brother in law (im 22 theyre about 26) and im running The Witch Beyond The Wildlight (a very lighthearted offical dnd adventure). my brother in law was the DM of last campaign and the tone was pretty Brutal (like fighting dragons, surprise gorey moments, bad things happening to good people for no reason ect) i started this adventure off specifally mentioning saftey tools in the frist session because things like excess gore specifically really Dont Do It for me, to which Bro-in-law kind of makes light of the saftey tools (EG. "can we just skip part of the adventure if im uncomfortable with it") generally BiL is pretty chill/not a bad guy or anything but this irked me when i was trying to be serious about this and he was trying to poke holes in the logic of people wanting to not touch on certain topics? (1/2)
(2/2) we've completed chapter 1 which was just a safe sandbox area but now in chapter 2 we get our first fight (weenie enemies bc its lvl 2) and afterwards hes gone in detail wanting ME to describe how he can basically defile the corpses of the highwaymen he killed (theyre rabbit people. but he wanted skin/bones/teeth). which really yucked me out and i tried to set a hard boundary but i dont know if he really gets me there. This whole situation of him not really listening to me as a DM, and then him acting upset when i have to tell him No has made me really frustrated because i feel like he is just fully not on the same page as me on what this campaign is about and doesnt really respect my ruling as DM (arguing with me this session that a bird familar should be able to sign a warlock contract, dumb things like that?) TLDR: He is my brother in law, and i want to be able to play with him and my sister, but i cant get through to him, and he thinks my escapism fairytale campaign is darksouls. do you have any advice?
Sounds like a real bummer, I'm sorry to hear that! I have experience with voiding tone boundaries on both sides, though both more incidental and because of unclear communication - I've definitely pulled back from gorey descriptions in fights because players were uncomfortable, and I've had to tell players to tone it down because it was inappropriate. It's hard especially when the genre of the campaign is different to the last and there are different expectations of violence - I hope the more they explore the feywild the more he understands the tone for the genre.
If you want to go outside the boundaries of the pre-made module, creating non-violent combat encounters can help curb the more gorey aspects of battles - but if you are more comfortable sticking with the written encounters (which is fair when using pre-made modules), I think you just have to be firm with him. It sounds like an annoying situation, where you don't want to kick him out but he also wants to be a kinda shitty player - I really hope he cares enough to listen to you and continue the game without continuing to be a nuisance.
In the example you used especially - if he tries to pull another teeth pulling thing, I think saying in no uncertain terms "I don't want to hear you describe that." or even "I'm uncomfortable with that action so I won't allow it." might be the best way to go - you're the DM and its your world, don't let him dictate how things operate. A slightly less upfront approach could be redirecting the energy: I know that particular module is set in the Feywild, so maybe if he tries to yank teeth, you can describe the bodies turning into light or poofing away into magic dust before he has a chance. You could even have it so that dying for NPCs/enemies isn't a mechanic in the feywild - people disappear or reincarnate or turn into trees or are simply knocked unconscious - or they run away!
My tl;dr is don't let him run the campaign for you - players should contribute to the world and the narrative, but ultimately you are the one running the session. If he won't listen to either your feelings or your alternative narration, he might not be a great suit for the party.
If it helps at all, I usually get players to fill in a checklist (X) to make it clear what's okay and what isn't for everyone at the table. If he still argues about the importance of consent checklists, thats a red flag in and of itself. I hope this helped!
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internalsealpanic ¡ 3 years ago
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Ahead of the Game
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Summary: Dick gets a concussion. You keep him from doing anything stupid.
a/n: REMEMBER THAT VOLLEYBALL AU I WAS BITCHING ABOUT. HERE IT IS. BLAME @jd-loves-fiction and @pricetagofficial. This is one of my 2 birthday 
warnings: suggestive language and poly fic (RoyDickWally/Reader)
Masterlist
The crowd brays as Roy dishes out another cut shot, ball slicing through the air at impossible speeds. 
 They can't get that. 
 C'mon! 
 Go! Go! GO!
 Ahhhhh!
 The mingling voices braid in the air making Dick's bones vibrate as he watches the ball travel. Out of nowhere, the opposing team's libero does a rather impressive dig, his body skidding against the floor.  The crowd explodes with life. 
 Dick's face aches with the smile spreading across it.   He crouches low ready to spring into action. He watches the setters form. He has a few choices. 
 1) He could send the ball to the spiker on his right and try a cut shot. Though, this spiker isn't quite as proficient in that yet so if it's him it's likely gonna be a straight shot. 
 2) He could send it to his middle spiker who has to compete with Vic and good luck with that honestly. 
 3) He could go for the left spiker. This is probably the most likely option since the guy has so much more power than the other two. 
 The ball is up in the air for a breathtakingly long moment before it's in front of the left spiker. It takes only a few seconds for Dick to calculate his next move with a slight horrible miscalculation that sends him tumbling into the row of fold-able chairs. 
 Still reeling from the impact of the spike to his head, Dick scrambles to his feet, trying to launch himself back into the game. The stadium lights are blinding. The crowd’s voices are bouncing in his skull. He trips. His limbs move uselessly without direction.
 The ref blows a whistle, making him wince. The crowd goes quiet as footsteps pound toward him. Someone turns him over and waves a hand in front of his face. Is it just Dick or do you look especially good under stadium lights? 
 "Dick, how many fingers am I holding up?" You say, waving your hand in his face. 
 "You're supposed to ask him questions he knows." Wally says, cradling Dick's head in  one hand. The pressure to the back of his head is at once a relief and a pain. 
 "He's a mathlete, of course, he can count." You hiss, looking incredibly unamused. 
 "You sure?"
 You frown down at Dick. "Maybe." Dick tries not to pout at that. "How many fingers am I holding up?" You repeat, waving your hand. 
 His head throbs. It would be easier to count if you stop waving your hand. 
 "Four." Roy says, a little too loudly. The volume makes Dick flinch. You glare at Roy waving two fingers at him, tempted to fold your pointer. 
 "Just checking." Roy grins and you look like you're going to knock his teeth out. 
 Dick wants to laugh but that's too loud too. 
 You move your head to the side and again Dick flinches. Clicking your tongue, your frown deepens and you look over your shoulder to coach Hal. "Concussion."
 Dick's stomach drops at the word. 
 He shakes his head, pulling himself away. "I'm fine." Dick slurs as he pulls himself to his feet. The movement is dizzying. "I just--" What's the word? 
 "Hit your head?"
 "Yeah."
 "No shit," you hiss. Dick stumbles and you're quick to catch him, placing his hand on your shoulders. "Dick, you have a concussion." Concern  carves its way into the hitch of your shoulders. 
 "I can walk it off. Promise." He says with a wink. You look unconvinced. It was probably because only part of the sentence was intelligible.
 You sigh and put a hand on Dick's. It feels warm and  it makes his already fuzzy head squiggly. "C'mon Dickie," you say sweetly. It's honestly amazing how easily he can focus on your voice even when it's impossible to concentrate on anything else. "Just come to the clinic with me and you'll get the ok to go back in."
 Dick confidently gets tricked by all your little touches as he lets you lead him out of the gym. 
 "That worked?!" Roy asks, scratching his head. 
 Wally shrugs. "It's (Y/n). She can play Dick like a fiddle."
 "True," Roy says, then grins and nudges Wally. "You say that like you're any different."
 "First off, you're worse than me or Dick--"
 "Get your asses back in there!" shouts the grumpy old man on the bench. 
 ____________________________________________________________________________
Dick slowly withers away as the nurse lists all the things he isn’t allowed to do. Dick has zoned out twice now but still when he tunes back in the nurse is still going. 
 “So, no volleyball for the rest of the day?” 
 “Yes.”
 “None at all?”
 The nurse laughs because she thinks he’s joking. Her laughter slowly fades when neither you nor Dick joins her because yes, Dick Grayson is very serious. Almost as an afterthought, she adds: “No strenuous physical activities.”
 Dick’s shoulders drop a solid six inches. 
 “Is it alright if I stay with him?” You ask.
 The nurse shrugs and points you to a chair. 
Dick tosses and turns uncomfortably. He’s not sure what’s more unbearable, the not moving part or the silence. His mind is running wild with the possibilities of what’s happening in the second set. Is his team ok? He should be there for them.  
 He turns to you. “Did they tell you how the first set went?” He asks, pointing at your phone. 
 “Garth nearly slid into the pole and Vic spiked the ball so hard he scared the crap out of the other team.” You say the words being tailed by a twitch of your lip. “If Vic wasn’t careful, we’d have company.”
 “Oh please, we both know if Vic’s spikes hit anyone, they’re going straight to the morgue.”
 This startles a laugh out of you. “Shuddup.” You laugh, covering your mouth. 
 “It’s true.” He insists, more to do with making you laugh than any desire to be right. Though you both know what he said is definitely true. There is a reason Vic is usually in the back row. 
 “How's the second set going?”
“Nothing yet.”
Dick turns on his back then to his side then to his other side.  “I should be out there.” He moans, pouting at you as if somehow you could change his diagnosis. 
 Dick is about to turn again when you jab his side.  “Stop moving or I'll sit on you.”
 “Promise?” He asks, his eyes glittering with mischief. 
 “We’re in public.”
 Dick shrugs. “Never stopped you before.” He looks up at you through pretty eyelashes. 
 You shove a water bottle in his face. It's cool against his sweaty, sticky skin. He leans into it and part of his cheek squishes his cheek. It's a simple comfort that has his skin settling into place.
 "Can't I at least do stretches?" He offers. 
 "Will it include a handstand?" 
 "No." He says, frankly offended by the accusation. "Ok, might." 
 You huff, handing him the water bottle with too many creepy smiling oranges. "Scoot over." 
 Dick makes room for you as you plaster yourself to his side, head resting against his shoulder, leg tangling with his. You tuck half your face into his neck and your nose brushes against Dick's skin, driving a shiver up his spine. 
 He nuzzles his face into the crown of your head. "This is a terrible way to keep me awake." 
 "I know," you  say, giving him a quick peck to the lips before turning back to your screen, "which is why I'm looking up Kermit smut to read to you."
 "What?! No!" Dick winces at the volume of his voice. 
 Your smile curves against his skin. "You'll like it I promise."
 "I highly doubt that." 
He does in a way.
 Dick lays his head on top of yours, listening as your voice rises and falls along with the cadence of the prose. It's soothing in a way. The even cresting of your tone smoothes over the live wires snaking under his skin. 
 The light of the clinic hangs over his head dimly. Every once in a while, Dick will drift off,  a yawn passing through his lips, tousling your hair. Every once in a while, you'll jolt him awake with words like 'Kermit's Glory Hole' or 'Elmo's seductive big dick energy'. You know, words he never wanted to hear.
 "Here's one with Shrek!" You chirp.
 Not for the first time this day, Dick questions this relationship. He groans, burying his face in your hair, unable to hide the smile curving his lips."Can't you read something else? Something good?" He mumbles, his words still slurring. 
 "Like what?"
 He twirls his hand trying to grasp at the title. It starts with a T but everything else is a mystery. "The one you've been reading."
 "The Intern?" You offer, brow arched. 
 "Yeah, yeah, that." 
 "Pfff," you boop his nose and it scrunches up adorably, "do you really want to walk around with a concussion and a boner?" You snuggle into his chest. 
 Dick seriously considers it, weighing the potential embarrassment versus the excruciating boredom. Boredom wins by a fraction. "Ok, no. Maybe. Just read something else." 
 You smile at him bright and evil and stupidly sweet. "Well," you draw the syllable out like taffy, "there's Dr. Phil smut." You say shaking the phone at him.
 "Proceed with the Kermit smut." Dick sighs. 
 "Thank you," you say, turning back to your phone. 
 Dick's mind lulls back into a resting state as you begin to read again.
Dick's head bobs in and out of consciousness when he feels you being pulled away from him. 
 Dick opens his eyes to watch Wally pull you into his lap. Roy brushes the dark strands out of his face, the rough calluses on his hands brushing against Dick's skin. 
 "How are you, oh great captain?" 
 "Fine." Dick slurs, brain still partially asleep. 
 "You guys were getting cuddly without us?" Wally whines half-heartedly. He nuzzles his face against your neck and you let him despite how much it tickles.  Wally blows a raspberry into your skin and draws out a squeal from you. 
 Dick covers his ears. You wince and apologize quietly. 
 "I bet you money that Dick got injured on purpose to hog (y/n)." Roy chuckles. 
 Wally pouts at him. "Why would you bet money? I don't have any."
 "Yeah Roy," you say, "you're discriminating against us sugar babies." 
 "How are you sugar babies?"
 "They're always broke." Dick points out sitting up and folding his legs to give Roy some room to sit because Roy is definitely gonna ignore the foldable chair.
 Roy slides over to you and Wally, looking completely unsympathetic to the fact that Dick would also like to be cuddled.
 "I see Dick hasn't managed to do a handstand while he's been here." Wally remarks. 
 "How'd you figure that?" Dick asks grumpily. 
 Wally carefully side-eyes the nurse who's busying herself with the computer. "You're alive."
 Roy nods sagely then eyes you. "Did you sit on him?"
 "I wish." Dick sighs.
 Your ears heat. You cross your arms. "I just read to him." 
 Roy and Wally share a look then grin at you. "What kind?" Your ears are going to burn off. 
 "Kermit smut." Dick deadpans raising a brow. "Should she have read me anything else?" 
 "She didn't read you stuff from The Intern?" Roy asks, his lips brushing against the back of your ear. 
 You scowl at him which just makes his grin broaden. 
 Wally (unhelpful) blows air into your other ear before asking. "Isn't she on the Paris one?" 
 "Oh! Oui, La Pari." Roy exclaims in the most Pepe Le Pew sounding French accent you have ever heard. You know he can do a good french accent. He's demonstrated it before. 
 "You're both horrible." 
 Evil is more the correct word really. 
 "Are you guys having a book club? Without me?"  Dick says, mock hurt thick in his voice.
 "Nah, it was more of a study group while you were on holiday." Wally explains with a flick of his hand. 
 "It was very productive." You scoff. 
 "Oh definitely," Roy cheers. "Especially with all the readings we did." 
 Wally waggles his eyebrows. "The readings were definitely useful." 
 You bury your face in your hands, wanting nothing more than to shrink. 
 "Uhuh, explain." 
 "Well, we started taking turns reading to annoy (Y/n) then we started testing things out." Roy explains. 
 You look between the three of them mortified. You really hope the nurse isn't listening. 
 Dick looks equal parts annoyed and jealous. "I was suffering and you guys were experimenting while I was suffering?" 
 "Must have been real hard up there in the Swiss Alps." Wally says, rolling his eyes. 
 "You try keeping Tim, Damian, and Cass from committing homicide!" 
 "What the hell was Bruce doing?" Roy laughs. 
 "Pretending he wasn't a single father of 6." 
 "Clearly." You snort.
 "Duke and Jason?" 
 "Following Bruce's lead for once."
 Wally and Roy burst out in a bark of laughter.
 The curtains draw back with a harsh clinking of the rings. 
 "You two," the nurse points to Wally and Roy, "out." 
 You all swallow trying not to disintegrate from the murder she's radiating. 
 Roy and Wally scramble to their feet bleating out a quick 'yes ma'am'. Wally pivots on his feet and gives Dick a kiss to Dick’s eyes brow where you can see a little nick if you get close enough. 
 "I'll text you any updates on the next match." Roy kisses the corner of your lip. 
 You squeeze his hand before pressing a thanks into his palm along with a kiss.
 The nurse practically shoves them out of the room. Wally still trying to wave as she hurls them out.
 You settle back into place, notching yourself into Dick’s side. You can still feel him pouting against the crown of your head. You roll your eyes. "Where were we?" 
 "You reading The Intern to me." 
 You huff out a quiet laugh. "No." 
 "Pleeeease," Dick says in his kicked puppy voice.
 You let out a breath. "No... ok, maybe--" you kiss him "--after you get better."
 "But I'm feeling much better now." Dick says, sliding a hand down to your waist. He toys with the waistband of your leggings and you have no choice but to pinch him. 
 "Nice try but the nurse said 7 to 10 days of rest."
 "Ok. Ok, fine but can you read me something else?" 
 "How about some Bottom Judas/ Top Jesus smut?" 
 "Oh my god, why?!"
 "SHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The team won the next two games. The first match after Dick’s disappearance was quite an upset for the other team. They were pretty sure the Titans would be on shaky ground because Dick wasn’t there. Little did they know that the team *can* function without Dick. As long as it’s not practiced, that is. 
 Dick shrugs and rolls his eyes. “ I definitely, hundo percento intended to get hit in the face.”
 The bus is raucous, buzzing with post-game energy. You, on the other hand, are out like a light. Dick is stuck playing pillow while you snooze. He doesn’t mind at all. It’s obvious that you’re still worried about him from the way you cling to him. Dick pulls you into his lap, careful not to jostle you too much. He can feel Roy and Wally glaring daggers at him.
“I’m still not convinced you didn’t get a concussion on purpose.” Wally accuses. 
 “You would if it meant extra cuddles.” Roy says, poking his cheek. 
 Dick stays stubbornly silent. 
 “See!”
 “You try getting hit in the face.”
 “Don’t you dare! All three of you dumbasses are not allowed to get injured *on purpose* just to get cuddles.” Coach Hal snarls. 
 Wally grins. “Gee coach, sounds like a good idea.”
 Roy and Dick share a look. “Probably.”
 “Wallace, I will call your uncle and get you banned from Volleyball for a year.”
Wally gapes. “Can he do that?”
 “Just don’t and shut up.” You grumble, curling up into Dick more. Dick moves into your old seat to make room for Wally to squish beside him while Roy scoots into the one next to him. 
 Dick is definitely gonna fall asleep. 
 ______________________________________________________________
Thank yoooouuu
217 notes ¡ View notes
xsarcasticwriterx ¡ 4 years ago
Text
My god
Summary: After 4 years after loki died from the dark elves...except he didn't
Pairing: Loki x reader
Warnings: Smut, fingering, oral (m receiving) honestly just some soft ass smex, sooooome angst but very little
Notes: As i've said i dont give 2 fucks if your 18+ or not sO continue on spawns of satan (the end of the smut is meh but the rest is 10/10)
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You rolled over in bed groaning. Sleeping wasn't something that came of ease for the past 4 years. Everytime you close your eyes you saw loki in thor's arms slowly dying. You screamed so loud that day falling and crying. That was the day the biggests storms hit every planet.
See your powers were to control the weather of every planet. You were essentially mother nature. You sat up from your bed sighing before standing up. You walked to your bathroom, splashing your face with water you looked up seeing the dark bags under your eyes. Thor worried for you after everything but then he had to go and help the avengers with something.
Hes been gone ever sense. You walked to your kitchen grabbing a glass and filling it with water. you chugged it before feeling tears fall down your face. “fuck” you whispered to yourself before wiping the tears away. you sniffled and put the glass in the sink. you were about to walk back to your room when there was a knock at your door.
You grabbed your knife before slowly walking to the door. Who could be here at 4am? you opened the door a crack before seeing a face that could throw anyone off. loki. You walked off from the door and loki was confused but walked in. you grabbed a book and turned throwing it at him. it hit him in the chest. “I'm here” he said looking down at the book. you nod and turn in a circle. you scoff before walking towards him. You slap him, his face is jerked to the side. 
He looks back to you. “ow” he said neutrally. “ok mhm” you said before grabbing his face with your hands. “fuck you asshole fuck you and everything you are” you screamed at him. The pain you felt was astronomical. 
Loki just stared as you yelled at him. “I hate you!” you yelled over and over while punching his chest. You felt tears fall down your eyes. Finally all the pain and grief hit you seeing him in front of you. Loki grabbed you and hugged you. “I know im sorry im sorry angel but im here im so sorry” he said rubbing your back.
You pulled away looking up at loki, and he looked down at you. His hair had grown out but he was still the greasy black haired god of mischief you loved. You stroked his hair. you smirked and laughed a little. Still perfection.
you looked into his beautiful blue eyes. “Like the ocean” you said holding his face with your hands. He smirked “forgiven?” he asked. You grumble “fuck you” you say, then lean forward. your eyes flutter close,and you rubbed your nose across his. 
Your lips met it was slow,kind,soft. It was just two people in love. you wrapped your hands around his neck pulling him closer. Loki's hands go under your thigh pushing you to jump. you wrap your legs around his waist. he walks to your room. he gently starts trailing his kiss along your jaw. your head moves back to give him more room.
His lips feel soft and nice on you jaw. he gently lays you on the bed crawling on top. he nippled on your neck then licked the spot. “such an angel” he said pulling away. He looked down at you, dilated pupils small marking on your neck your breathing was heavy and fast.
He lent back down pushing your shirt up he kissed up to your chest. He pushed your shirt up gently and you took it off tossing it elsewhere. “perfection” he said kissing your chest. he took a nipple into his mouth sucking and biting. you groan your hips lifting up. loki pulled away squeezing,
“so soft” he said kissing down the valley. You pulled loki up and he looked down at you. you pushed his shirt off still staring at him. “my god” you said while stroking his chest “my beautiful god” you said. he smiled down at you. 
His beautiful eyes shone in the moonlight the peeked through the window. His beautiful smile as he looked down at you full of love. His dark waves falling over his shoulder. 
He leaned down and kissed you slow and deep. His hands were on your hips as he grinded cock into you. You whimpered against his lip. “my queen” he said trailing his kisses down the valley of your chest, down your stomach he licked your navel. His lips stopped at your shorts he slowly took them off throwing them elsewhere. he kissed your ankle trailing up. He nibbled your thighs and licked it, sucked it. his hands pushed your thighs apart looking at your wetness soaking through your underwear.
“loki” you said softly. he looked up at you “i love you” you said with a smile. He moved you to you. you took your face in his hands. he kissed your nose, you cheeks, your jaw, then your lips “i love you too” he said before leaning back to your underwear. he took it between his teeth dragging it down. he threw it somewhere. 
He marked your thighs kissing soft and slow. “my girl” he said as he came back up to you. He kissed you deeply it was calm. “im addicted to your lip” he said kissing you again. You felt his fingers slide through landing on your clit. you moan into his mouth and he smiles on your lips. 
His fingers rub your clit putting pressure. “there we go angel girl” he said inserting his finger into you. you moaned loudly your hips rocking forward. his thumb landed back on your clit. you withered underneath his touch. He pumped his fingers in and out of you. you move your hips meeting his rhythm. He watched as your eyes shut, you head tilted back. His lips met the front of your neck his thumb rubbing and flicking your clit. his fingers move in a ‘come here’ motion hitting your g spot. “loki loki baby there” you say lifting your hips off the bed.
Loki massaged the spot keeping his rhythm bending his fingers every time his finger were all the way in you. he kissed your neck biting and marking. you whimper and feel your walls tighten. Loki lifted his head watching you moan and whimper as your orgasm hit you. The way your legs squeeze around him and shake. He loved to cause you pleasure.
He kept his fingers moving through your orgasm. Once you calmed he pulled his fingers out licking them. you sat up unbuttoning his pants. he kicked them off and kissed pecked your lips. he pulled off his underwear his cock sprung free. you kissed up his thighs biting and leaving feather kisses. 
you kiss up his chest and bite his chest. loki looks down at you and smiles “having fun there beautiful?” he ask. you look up and smirk “not yet dear” you say falling back to your sitting position. You grab the base of his cock licking from the tip to the base tracing over the veins. Loki's head tossed back as he groaned.
“now i am” you said. taking the tip of it in your mouth. you bob your head up and down. loki grabs the back of your hair. He looked down seeing spit and precum falling on your chin. Your hair a mess in his fist. You looked so beautiful with his cock in your mouth. your tongue keeps tracing over the veins as you bob. “my queen id love to keep this up but i cant” he said his hips starting to thrust into your mouth. you remove your mouth, a string of saliva.
you smile up at him and loki leans down kissing you “you taste amazing my god” you say putting your hands on his cheeks. he slowly lays you back down and kisses you. he sat back up on his knees.
his hair was a wavy mess, eyes sparkling blue with dilated pupils, his chest glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He was beautiful. You love him, he's your god. your god. 
He leans down kissing you. he lines his spit covered dick and pushes in while looking at you. He watches as you close your eyes and mouth opens but no noise comes out. his kisses your bottom lip. he moves pulling out and pushing in. Its slow and calm. you open your eyes looking up at him. you hold his face and smile. “You are perfect” you say giving him a small kiss. he smiles at you and puts his head on your shoulder. 
He lightly pecks your shoulder and collarbone. “my girl” he says nuzzling his head in and speeding up his thrust. your arms wrap around his shoulders holding him close. His fingers lands on your clit as he thrust. Your walls tighten and you hold him close. He thrust harder in you holding your hips.
he lifts his head watching as you cum on his dick. your mouth opens in an O shape as you tilt your head backwards. He felt your walls tighten and just loved seeing you come undone. 
He thrust harder he bends your legs up to your chest wrapping his arms under your knees. He pushes faster. you feel his rhythm break and his head falls to your chest. He buries himself inside of you as you feel spurts of cum inside of you. 
Loki starts to pull out before you wrap your legs around him. “stay” you say. He knows that has many meanings but nonetheless he smiles and lays down most his weight was on the bed only his chest was on your chest and torso was on your pelvis. 
“Loki i love you a lot and im pissed as hell at you but just...promise to never leave me again?” you said stroking through his hair. “I promise” loki said snuggling closer to you. he closed his eyes and traced your stomach. “I will stay with you till the day we die” he said. you smiled and continued to play with his hair as he slowly fell asleep. “My god” you said before falling asleep yourself.
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jisungscaramel ¡ 4 years ago
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dare | han 
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❀ genre; smut, a little fluff, best friends au ❀ pairing; han jisung x reader (fem) ❀ word count; 2k
[warnings] explicit sexual content, oral, unprotected sex (be safe y’all), (mild) edging, cockwarming, saucy truth or dare
The intangible friction between you and your best friend was undeniable, yet with conviction, you held this idea that it was all in your head, and instead of fleshing out the inkling of frustration you felt every time you’d hang out, you chose to ignore it.
You chose to ignore the way he’d press his palms into the small of your back when he’d pull you close, the way he’d keep your body tight on his when he’d hug you, the way you’d catch his curious stares, the way his eyes seemed to send endless subliminal messages. 
You chose to ignore the way the butterflies would flutter in your chest whenever that physical contact was made, the desire that would pool in the pit of your stomach whenever your wordless gazes collided. 
You chose to ignore it. 
Until today. 
Honestly, you couldn’t say if he was on the same wavelength as you but as soon as he said these words on what you perceived to be a usual Netflix date (hold the chill), you were definitely suspicious: “Let’s play truth or dare.”
You knocked him on the head. “Han Jisung, you know there’s only two of us here… right?” 
He blinked at you innocently and rather cutely, as if he couldn’t see the correlation between your questions. “Yes… you’re point?” 
You clicked your tongue, sinking back into the worn in leather couch with your arms crossed. “Have you ever played truth or dare with just one other person? I sure as fuck haven’t.” 
He rolled his eyes in an exaggeratedly exasperated manner. “No, but I don’t recall there ever being a rule saying you can’t.” 
“But,” you turned to him to put on your best puppy dog face… which was mediocre at best but a valiant attempt, “don’t you wanna watch Avatar? We’re almost done with Book 2.” 
“We watched it already… 4 times actually… in the past month.” 
“Yes… your point?” you wrinkled your nose, repeating his previous words. 
“Let’s do something different for a change.”
You turn the television off. “Ok fine,” drawing out the latter word as if it were stuck on your tongue. 
Next thing you knew, he was constricting your body with his limbs, happily rubbing his cheek on yours like a child. “Yee!” and then all of sudden, he was sitting back, deadpan, folding his arms with determination. “Truth or dare?” 
“Hmmm truth.” 
And then that small child was back. “What? Why? That’s no fun!” 
You shrugged. “You wanted to play truth or dare, remember? Emphasis on truth.” 
“Fine, is it true that you hooked up with someone in the library?”
“Ji, I already told you that story.” 
“I know, but it was so wild that I didn’t really believe you. Now you have to tell me the truth.”
“What makes you think I’d be any less truthful otherwise? And also, what makes you think that I’d absolutely tell you the truth now if I was possibly lying before?” 
He widened his eyes and flared his nostrils in a rather comical manner. “If you can lie during truth or dare, you must be satan.” 
You stared at him rather blankly, speaking quite frankly, “that… made no sense.” 
His lips pressed into a firm line. “It does; you just won’t admit it.” 
You snickered, rolling your eyes. “Whatever… truth or dare”
“Dare, I ain’t no bitch.” 
You smacked his shoulder - playfully. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
And he pouted, rubbing his shoulder. “Nothing… nothing at all.” 
“I dare you to leave Felix a voice note confessing your love to him.” 
He offered you a begrudging glare but he wordlessly unlocked his phone with no hesitation, opening his messages with his roommate. He lifted the end to his lips: “Oi Felix! I just wanted to let you know that I love you bro.” He smiled in satisfaction as he sent the note. 
“That’s not what I meant!” you protested. 
To which, he shrugged. “You didn’t specify what kind of love.” 
Your hand made contact with your face in embarrassment. “Why are you like this?”
“Because you,” he placed his palms on his cheeks to squish them, “love me.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Ok, truth or dare?” 
“...Just to make you happy: dare.” 
“Hmmm,” he bit his lip in contemplation, “what should I get you to do?” he gripped his chin. 
“Please don’t make me eat wasabi. I almost burned my nose off that one ti-” 
“I dare you to kiss me… on the lips.” 
When you met his eyes, you expected the usual teasing glint, but you saw none. He was dead serious, and you felt the saliva thicken in your throat, forcing you to swallow a little harder than normal. 
As if your body was moving on its own, you leaned forward toward Jisung, resting your hands on his shoulders, distance lessening an inch by every passing moment. You were only planning on giving him a peck, but it just felt more natural to slightly part and purse your lips into a proper kiss. As your eyes fell shut, your heart began trembling in its confines, rattling your spine - you just hoped it wasn’t as obvious to him as it was to you. 
His plush peach lips were as soft as you imagined - though you’d never admit you’d been imagining it in the first place. And for a moment, maybe two, you passed through the mix of emotional signals, focusing instead on the physical, the subliminal body language: how his hands found themselves on your hips, how his lips occasionally broke the rhythm to tug on your lower lip, how he’d let out the softest groans every time there was a change in pressure. 
But then you removed yourself from your physical position, remembering the mental position you were in, biting your lips and looking away, biting your lips as if you wanted to say something, but your words clung to your throat - so you cleared it. “...truth or dare?” 
“Truth.” 
“Why did you want me to kiss you?” 
His expression was serious - something you weren’t used to. He leaned back, folding his arms, lips parted, tongue smoothing over his teeth to graze the edge of his top lip. “Same reason why you couldn’t get your hands off me.” 
You didn’t even have a moment to be dissatisfied with his answer. “Truth or dare?” there was a sultry tone to his voice, and although it was out of character for him, it was perfectly in line with the vibe he was giving in that moment. 
“Dare.” The first time you’d chosen that, it was for no reason other than to spare yourself of Jisung’s complaints, but this time? Curiosity laced your tongue, wondering where he would take it next, if he would take it anywhere at all. 
“Go down on me.” 
You tugged on your lower lip with your teeth as a subtle smirk grew on your face. Of course, he would. You got down on the floor, kneeling in front of him. 
You placed your palm over his crotch, feeling a stirring beneath the fabric of his jeans. “Are you gonna help me with this?” You prodded the top button with your index finger.
He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re a big girl.” 
Challenge accepted. 
The finger on his button flicked it undone, but you took your time pulling the zipper down. You were in no rush. 
But he was. 
You could tell from the slightest gestures: the way his back kept sinking back in the couch, the way his fingers kept combing through his hair, the way he hissed under his breath, the way his hips rolled up - if you weren’t so close to him, you wouldn’t have noticed any of it. 
When you finally took it upon yourself to free his personified frustration, you were taken aback, not because of his girth or the throbbing redness - although that was in the back of your mind. You were teetering on a metaphorical edge of your friendship. The kiss was one thing but now you were approaching the gate of no return. But you’d have plenty of time to worry about that later... and after the fact. 
You let the lust shroud your head with its black clouds as you leaned in closer. You delicately ran the flat of your ring finger up his length while dragging your tongue down, eliciting an explicit gasp from him.
And he couldn’t help but squirm under you when you circled your tongue under the head, where he was the most sensitive. 
Your lips secured around the tip, and you sunk them down as far as they could go, until they pressed firmly on his pelvis. The vulgar gurgling sound you inadvertently made while fighting your gag reflex only did more to stir his arousal. 
“Fuck, since when were you this hot?” 
You started bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollowing as a result of the increased suction. Every now and then, you’d slow down to trace his prominent veins with your tongue, and when you’d pick up your pace again, grunts and groans continuously trickled down his lips. 
You wanted to smirk. Your nostrils flared as the corners of your lips lifted up as much as they could in their limiting position. You had to take your hands away from his hip and the base of his dick to place them behind your back just to show off.
When Jisung’s sounds became gruffer and more primal, you had an inlinking of what was to come. So, you stopped, smacking your lips with a loud pop. 
“Truth or dare?” Desire poured from your half-lidded eyes, lacing your voice in a tone that sent electricity through Jisung’s nerves. 
“...Dare,” he whispered, still heavily breathing. 
You stood up. “Take your pants off and don’t move for the next five minutes… no matter what.” 
He peered up at you with suspicious eyes, but did as you asked. His suspicion turned into surprise as you pulled your leggings and panty off in one motion, setting the garments on the ground. 
“What are you doing?” he asked in a strained voice as you straddled him, gripping the back of the couch for support, aligning your now-dripping heat over his erection. 
“Making,” you started lowering yourself, taking him in, “things more,” all in, “interesting.” 
He threw his head back, “Fuck.” 
“Remember,” you tapped your phone on the other side of the couch to see the time, “no moving for five minutes.”
“You’re so evil.” He glared at you. 
You couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you knew this already.” 
“I didn’t-” his attempt to amend his statement was cut short when you attached your lips to his jaw, trailing kisses up its line, slowly, taking your time. 
He held his breath when yours blew into his ear, heat searing his skin, and you could feel him twitch inside you.
“I’m gonna destroy you when my turn is up.”
You tapped his chin with your finger. “If you can manage to behave until then.”
“You think I can’t?” 
“It’s not that I think you can’t… I just don’t think you can.” You waved your hips to increase the pressure between your connected skin, and you could tell he had to bite his tongue just to suppress a moan. 
When your lips latched onto his neck, he gulped, staring at the clock at the other end of the room. He tried to fixate on the constant movement of the second hand, but his body had a different agenda, preferring to focus on how good your lips felt on his sensitive skin, how you alternated between sweet pecks and French kisses, hard sucking and soft nibbling.
He felt the heat radiating from his skin, sweat dripping down the back of his neck as a result of his attempt to hold himself back. He grit his teeth, frustration crippling his body; he was this close to caving, this close. 
“Time.” 
He bucked his hips up, gripping yours tightly. “Such a fucking tease.” But he still held back, keeping his pumping slow and steady. “Truth or dare?” 
You crashed your body to match his tempo. “Truth.” 
“Do you want it harder?” 
“...Yes.” 
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A/N This one is also a reimagined version of a scenario I wrote for a different idol years ago
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