#not in a i hate your guts you suck way

[steampunkedparm]

gods fuck i figured it out moonsetter is aching loneliness, its isolation, its that faint hint of optimism when you step outside, its knowing your fucked but pushing on anyways trying to fruitlessly reach out and grasp what matters

[fappellmoan]

ok im a really chill and normal person and i get over things and am well adjusted but take a walk with me here. just give me my time to complain when im not in the absolute fucking trenches. and yes i believe i suffered more than those in trench warfare. it was literally a lesbian situationship with a bistraight girl come on. just. magenta choppy shag with the roots coming in. camo cargo pants black t shirt with red lettering and striped long sleeve (sign someone likes music. confirmed). lip ring big black stud earrings and nails. red docs. i think lesbians should be allowed to kill one dyke baiter in their lifetime idc

[nonuggetshere]

GOD I HAD AN IDEA AS I WAS FALLING ASLEEP TODAY

About FaaF naturally

A sad one, TW fir near child death and harm

Involves Xero's attempt at an assassination, or it could be literally just any guard controlled by the Radiance

PK and WL need to talk about something private, and WL looks at the tiny vessel tagging along by her wyrm's side

"Should it be here?"

"It wouldn't understand anything anyway."

"Still, it's...a little..."

He sighs lightly, "Yeah, I get where you're coming from... Vessel, come here."

He kneels down and orders them to sit by the door and wait for them while they talk, says he'll come pick them up once they're done and not to move, then the two go to talk on the balcony and close the door behind them

At some point, Xero/the guard bursts in and attacks PK in the middle of the conversation, managing to take them by surprise and so gets one good swing in before PK darts away and retaliates, pinning them down with soul blades, though he has to keep his wife from killing them on the spot - he doesn't want to be so hasty, knowing they're infected and not themself. He pulls out the sword from his chest and that's when they realise, it's covered in void...

Child harm/near death TW beyond this point

After a moment of shock White Lady, who's closest to the doors, runs out and all her husband can hear is a horrified, heartbroken scream. He feels nauseous, his stomach twisting into knots and feeling like his heart is in his throat as he runs out after her. He sees her in tears, cradling a tiny bundle soaked in void. There's- there's so much void. It covers the floor where he left their child vessel and soaks through his lady's shawl and clothes as she cradles them in her arms.

For a moment he's paralysed, before he just snaps. He flies back onto the balcony, screaming at the possessed guard that he'll kill her, he'll make her pay for this, and he slays them in his rage (something he'll regret and feel ashamed of later), still hitting and screaming at Her well after the possessed person is dead and she can't hear him anymore.

He collapses, panting, near tears, and just gets himself up and stumbles out the door and towards the two, he wants to see how bad it is for himself.

Flower survives, but just barely. They had multiple stab wounds and lost their left arm, if not for their parents immediately healing them they'd be dead. They're barely older than 5, still so very little and defenceless, PK is horrified at how could anyone hurt a baby this young and helpless (hypocrite), even if they're not alive.

They're still on bed rest because that was so much damage and their mother doesn't leave their side and their father only leaves when necessary. They still don't realise Flower's alive and they know they shouldn't be so attached but it still feels like their baby and they can't just leave them. WL spends the entire day by their side, gently stroking their hair and horns with her now permanently void stained hands and softly coos and sings to them

Of course, they quickly realise they ARE alive because no way in hell a toddler is getting this hurt and NOT crying and screaming the second they wake up <3

Which just makes this situation so much worse

[beanniiee]

rant in the tags

[pissfizz]

On one hand toya tenma hc is one of my favorite things ever and it’s very important to me but on the other part of me is coming to hate it bc fans are so insufferable about it

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[bastardlybonkers]

i feel like not enough ppl are factoring in the cultural clash between laios and shuro and the many micro agressions shuro faced while being in their group. literally the name 'shuro' in itself is one

his name is toshiro 😭 lets also not forget that he has his own communication issues, in the opposite way that laios does- thats literally a factor in their argument, that his envy for laios's ability to express himself sincerely manifested as part of his distaste for him.

ig all this to say like, was their fight heart wrenching, especially when reading laios as autistic? absolutely. anybody whos ever been in laios's position knows how much it hurts to realize someone you thought was your friend doesnt actually like having you around, especially when they didnt tell you and you had no way of knowing due to not understanding their cues. but im begging yall to step back and see the nuance of this situation cause im gonna be real a lot of you are kinda just brushing over it acting like everything is toshiros fault and that hes a terrible person when in reality hes an average guy who really, really clashed with laios and it led to a very long misunderstanding due to their supremely opposite methods of communication. even laios and toshiro, after letting everything out in their fight, were able to come to an understanding and start a foundation for an actual friendship built on better communication

ok yknow what Edit: i shouldve made it even more explicit at the end of this post, i hadnt thought i would need to since i started the post with this, but i think a few too many people are missing my point so i just wanna clarify. i shouldnt have said 'really clashed' and left it at that because yeah they did, but it wasnt just their opposite methods of communication, it is also very much that toshiro was experiencing microaggressions via laios. it may have been unintentional on laios's part, but it still happened and wore him down, made it harder for him to communicate on top of both the more subtle social cues that he was raised with and his own communication difficulties. i also want to say that the fandom reaction to toshiro and the complete ignorance of this point is also racist tbh or at the very least ignorant. i understand that the anime did not cover this panel, and neither did the manga, as this was an omake, but im gonna be real with you guys. there are enough context clues within the story to clue you into this. if you didnt pick up on it thats ok, but i think this is a good lesson in picking up subtext in the stories that youre watching and/or reading. kui shouldnt have to explicitly say 'by the way laios was racist to toshiro' for this point to be understood, and at the very least, when the author portrays a character in a sympathetic light (as kui clearly does) it should make you question Why they are doing so and what makes them sympathetic, rather than youre immediate and only reaction to be 'well i hated what this guy did/said so i hate them and they suck'. idk exactly how to finish this, just. idk. question your biases and gut reactions to things you see in media and stories, and think about whether or not theres subtext that youre missing.

[lalunanymph]

KILLSHOT

sypnosis when fate gives you back your supposedly “dead” foster childhood bestfriend who is now the colonel of one of the most powerful fleets in the world, what else is there to do but fuck him right in the interrogation room? 

warnings interrogation, caleb is mean for like 0.24848 seconds cause lbr he is a puppy of a man, drugging, drugged sex, improper use of evol, collaring, mutual pining, biting, marking, betrayal, mindfuck, injuries, mentions of blood, psychological warfare, seduction, fighting, hurt and comfort, angst, potential spoilers for “farspace deprivation” and “farspace bloomfall”, dark themes, hate sex, cervix fucking, fingers in mouth, sucking on gloved fingers, gunplay, degradation, undertones of Dom/sub, oral sex, kink, bratting, disciplining, after effects of interrogations, unprotected sex, ceiling sex, grieving, spoilers for chapter 4, mentions of death, aftercare, cuddling, guilt, repressed emotions, 18+

dawn says caleb girlies RISE UP oh we are eating so good our man is back home and you KNOW i had to write about his hot new glowup in that slutty colonel outfit,...

Yet again, you’re in the thick of trouble.

They said curiosity killed the cat, and this time, you had little doubt of coming out alive. But, it can hardly be classified as your fault. 

It was a stupid lead. A blind coordinate Nero sent to you, leading you to stumble right into the heart of a military operation unauthorized. In the world of bureaucracy and red tape, it’s as good as being dead.

Now, you’re being led away, bound and blindfolded with no one to blame but yourself for your shitty luck and foresight. 

Whoever is leading you to your certain death stops in his tracks, nudging you into a cool room. You’re made to sit on a hard chair, and within seconds, your wrists are untied only to be bound again to the chair’s arms and something hard and circular is snapped onto your neck. 

“Unh—” you gasp when you hear the soft whir of the device starting. A sudden pressure wraps around your body, holding you back from resonating. Without your Evol, you’re defenceless and whoever has captured you knows it. 

“Don’t resist.” 

A cold voice pierces the silence. You stop squirming and peel your ears.

“W-who’s there?” You curse the stutter in your question, the trembling underlying your show of courage.

A Hunter resists and never gives up intel easily. Evasion Interrogation Class 101. You weren’t going to cave without a fight. 

The slow approach of boots on the hard floor thumps like the blood rushing through your ears. You tense, feeling the other person’s presence before you. 

Light floods your senses, and your eyes pry open when the blindfold is whipped off your face. You blink, trying to focus on the dark spot standing right in front of you. The furrow of his brow is the first thing you notice, then those piercing violet eyes.

No…

“Hey… Pipsqueak.” 

Your blood turns to ice in your veins, fear shooting up your spine.

It can’t be… you struggle to make sense of what you’re seeing, feeling your stomach dropping heavily right into the soles of your Hunter boots. It can’t… 

You mourned him. You watched your entire family—your world—go up in flames.

This stranger wearing his face sits down in front of you, legs spreading with ease under the stretch of his starched white pants. He’s in a decorated jacket, one you’ve never seen him wear before. It’s like the memory of all that you once knew of Caleb is corrupted with a dark veneer, giving way to this tainted version sitting before you with barely any emotion in his eyes.  

The familiar slope of his features, the same ones you’ve seen throughout the years, changing and growing, as intimate to you as your own breath, is cold and distant. 

Warm sunny days, the smell of freshly cut grass, a hand holding yours through the rain…

It disappears in a flash of lightning, the dark clouds rolling behind him like the dread churning right in your gut. 

Your voice is soft, fringed with disbelief, as the shock renders you immobile to the chair. 

“What?” He quips, and a shadow of his old smile appears. But, where there was once familiarity, now there only exists the ruins of everything you held dear. 

“Don’t you recognize me?” 

It’s as if he’s goading you. 

He picks up an apple from the centerpiece on the table next to the chair he has you strapped in, and holds it in his hand like it would give him all the answers in the world. His pensive gaze, those once wondrous violet eyes catching the last of the sun’s rays as it disappeared over a river, cloud over with an undeniable oppression. 

He can’t even look at you properly. 

“Did you honestly think I would always be the kind-hearted boy from your childhood?” 

Like a horror show unfolding, he lifts his gaze, looking right into your depths, as the snap of the apple's skin gives way to the tension of his jaws. A bit of its juice dribbles onto his lower lip, and you force yourself to tear your eyes away, needing to retain your wits. Caleb sets the fruit down, chewing thoughtfully, before lifting it to your lips. 

“Eat,” he murmurs softly, a shadow of his old self on the tired terrain of his face. “You must be starving.”

The sweet boy from your past can’t be coincided with this cold man right in front of you. Where you would’ve leapt at the opportunity to taste any dish from the labor of his kind hands, you fear this forbidden bite would poison you the second his tainted fruit touched your lips. 

Turning your head away, you glare at the rain-slicked windows, trying to hide the sting in your eyes.

Caleb, knowing how stubborn you can be, sighs and drops his olive branch offering.

“Fine.” His voice is flat. Unemotional. “Let’s get to the bottom of things, then.”

He stands, and you feel a fissure of fear opening in your chest when he retrieves his baton, removing his military cap and tossing it onto the table. 

“Why’re you here?” 

You refuse to open your mouth, glaring at him. Caleb shakes his head.

“You always have to make things so hard for me, don’t you, Pipsqueak?” He murmurs and steps closer to you, the fire in his violet gaze crackling. “You’ve always been insufferable since we were kids. Now—” he frowns. “—why are you here? And how did you find this place?” 

You find your voice, croaking out, “I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to? Are you sure?” He cuts you off coldly. Caleb straightens and adjusts his gloves. There’s a hint of a smile on his face, though it’s corrupted by the detachment oozing from his suddenly frosty demeanour. “You expect me to believe that? That you just stumbled into the scene like a stray kitten?” 

When you don’t speak, he sighs, kneeling down to your height. The warmth of his eyes is back and a lump forms in your throat.

“Caleb…” your whisper is soft. Tentative. He senses a chink in your defenses, a drop of blood in the ocean, and the gleam of his teeth reminds you of a shark.

“All you have to do is answer my questions, Pipsqueak,” he murmurs, lifting a hand to stroke your hair. “Can you do that for me? Can you be a good girl?” That same, mischievous smile plays on the corners of his lips, though it sends a chill down your spine, instead. “There’s more than one pair of eyes observing you in this room so I suggest you play nice.”

He pulls back again, depriving you of his warmth. “Now that you understand, we can have a friendly chat, hmm, Pips?” When you refuse to look at him, or give any indication you’re willing to cooperate, he sighs. 

Instantly, the sensation of a thousand bricks falling onto your shoulders hits you, and you scream, almost crushed by the pressure. Caleb uses this momentary distraction to kneel down and lock your ankles to the chair’s legs and snap a band around your right wrist, his other hand gently running the ghost of his touch up your ankle. The forcefield of his Evol deters him from ever touching your skin, and if you could look closer, you would’ve seen his throat bobbing from a harsh swallow.

“Do you remember that injured cat you brought back home? Back when we were kids?” He glares up at you. “I got a collar with a bell. That way, it couldn't escape without being noisy,” he gently squeezes your knee. “The same can be said for you—you’re not allowed to leave me again.” 

As he speaks, something sharp pokes your neck and you flinch. While your eyes are on him, the room starts to spin, and before you know it, you’re hunched over the chair, gasping and shaking.

“Caleb,” your voice sounds like you’re whispering from under the sea. “W-what’s—?”

“Don’t worry,” his reassurances warble back. “It won’t harm you—images in your brain,” his words flicker through your consciousness and you feel the collar tightening around your throat.

Shit… He had sanctioned a drug to be shot into your system. 

Your woozy eyes keep on sliding back to the floor. 

Caleb has drugged me.

“Where did you find the coordinates to this place?” 

You’re fighting a losing battle trying to keep your composure. Everything feels too loud—too bright. Digging your nails into the chair’s arms, you grit your teeth, fighting back against the wave of vertigo threatening to take you under. You feel like you’re on a rollercoaster, out of breath, the ground dangling far from your feet. Every sharp inhale you take makes you float higher and higher, till you think your brain would burst from the stratosphere of your skull.

Nero… Nero knew this… and he let you walk right into it.

Nero… The sound of Caleb’s voice pierces through your mind like bright light cutting past the fog. That’s good, Pipsqueak. That’s my good girl… Is Nero your colleague?

You think of him, in his horn-rimmed glasses, hunched over his screen.

Good, Caleb’s voice soothes you, a lifeline through this impenetrable fog your mind has settled in. And, why are you here?

The image of his dog tag with the apple charm takes over your mind, and it hits you too late that Caleb can possibly see your thoughts unfold. 

What are the possibilities that you can fight this? Your brain races. You feel like an astronaut stranded in space, isolated from gravity and light, as your spacesuit begins to fill up with water, almost drowning you.

A sharp jab to your chest makes your eyes flutter open, and his baton is pointed right at the apple charm hanging around your neck. Something softer, presumably made out of hide, brushes your chin as he studies the charm in between his fingers, his expression unreadable. 

“It’ll all be over soon,” he whispers, the switch flipping, “As long as you keep on cooperating.” 

You lean into his reassurances, a whimper slipping past your gritted teeth. 

“I know, I know,” he soothes, and stands before you, his hands clenched into fists. “But, it’s for your own good. Just a little longer, Pips.” 

He asks his final question: “Were you trailed?” 

You can’t stop the next thought from forming in your head of your Hunter’s watch. Instantly, the band is ripped from your wrist, and you hear a loud crunch. The air thickens and you close your eyes, trying to find your centre. The world threatens to spin off your axis; G-Force pressure right in your center threatens to tear you apart.

Please… make it stop… 

Like a switch has been flipped, the spinning cyclone in your mind stops. The sound of your harsh breathing and the erratic pulse in your ears is the only thing you can hear. Someone kneels right in front of you, and you don’t have the strength to push him away, not when he’s this close.

“Congratulations,” he says softly, stretching his hand like he wants to pat your head, but retracts it at the last minute. “You passed.” 

The collar slips off your neck, and you hear it being tossed onto the table. “Come here,” he whispers and unbinds you. Caleb lifts you into his arms, though not even his warmth can comfort you. 

Through the fog whirling in your mind, you make a snap decision.

Your hand collides into his cheek, the loud slap ricocheting around the room. He grunts, taken aback, and you use the momentum to swing your legs, wrapping your thighs around his neck so he’s forced to let go of you. Using every iota of balance you can muster, you land on your feet, none too gracefully. His hand wraps around your arm and practically hiss, sinking your teeth into his flesh.

Caleb gasps, and whips his hand back, glaring down at you. 

“Hey! It’s me—”

But, you’re not listening. You’re ready to pounce when he grabs your wrist, drawing you closer to him, pressing your cheek to his chest so you can hear the harsh rise and fall of his breathing.

“Pips, it’s me,” he tries earnestly again. “It’s me. I’m back.”

To your horror, you start to cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

You sob and blubber like a child, growing weak in his arms as the hand in his grasp turns into a fist and you smack it weakly against his hard chest.

“How could you?” is the first thing you ask through your sobs. And, the next: “How’re you even alive?” 

Caleb looks away, like he might reveal too much if he stares into your eyes. “It’s complicated—”

“Bullshit,” your anger resounds in the room like the crack of a whip. You should’ve bit him harder. 

You think you see him flinch. You push away from his arms and he looks down at you, every crevice of his face dripping with desolation. There’s a glimmer of wetness in his eyes, and yet, you can’t trust it. 

You can’t trust him. 

“Pipsqueak,” he tries again, reminding you of the times when you were both younger, and he had to sweet-talk you out of a bad mood. “I know you must think some chip got put into my brain, or I’m no longer who I used to be. But, I’m still me,” he urges, and lifts your chin to meet his eyes. “I’m still Caleb. I never left.” 

You grit your teeth and with a strength neither of you expect you to have, you push him against the table, pressing yourself in between his legs. Caleb grunts, but doesn’t shove you aside. He looks up at you, with those same pitiful, defiant violet eyes that urges you to either kiss him senseless or claw his eyeballs out.

… Wait. 

Kiss him senseless? 

You shake your head, pushing those thoughts aside. As if he can’t control himself anymore, he runs his knuckles down the back of your thighs, the new (downright useless) mandated Hunters uniform showing off too much bare skin. But, you couldn’t care less about that right now. 

Right now, you have a score to settle with your oldest childhood friend.

“You’re still the same, huh?” Your hand presses to his chest, feeling the erratic pulse of his heartbeat under your palm. Even through all the layers he wears, you can still feel the heat of his body seeping past your skin. “You’re still the same Caleb I knew—the same one who walked through that damn door—” you growl, curling your hand into a fist and hitting it right into his sternum, “—and blew up on me?!”

“Pipsqueak—”

“Don’t you dare,” you seethe, baring your teeth. Though the tears continue to fall, your mind is honed in. Focused.

The need to obliterate him, to make him feel a shred of the same pain he had put you through for months, rears its ugly head.

Like he can read your mind—and you honestly think he can—he caresses your face, running his thumb over your jaw. The look on his face is pure regret, mingled with something unfathomable. You scent it in the lingering heat of his breath on your parted lips, or how much closer his face has gotten to yours. 

Right here, he’s in the palm of your hands… And yet, why is he still so painfully out of reach? 

“I don’t trust you,” the words slip past your numb lips before you can take them back. You grip his face, steadying those violet eyes on your furious ones. “I need to test you… to put you through a trial.”

The look of indignation on his face is delicious, and it whets your appetite for vindication. 

“A trial?” He almost sounds insulted. “What have I done wrong?” 

Your other hand slowly reaches for the front of his chest, running the tip of your finger down the starch lapels of his jacket. “You were missing. For months,” you grit out the words. “I need to check if you’re still him.”

“Still… me?” 

You growl and tighten your grip on his chin.

“What is my favorite food?” 

Caleb huffs, as if you had just asked him what color the sky was. “Braised chicken wings,” he murmurs almost sarcastically. “Next.”

You glance at the bite mark on his hand. “What is my favorite way of getting you back?” 

He raises a brow. “Biting. I remember how when we were kids, you bit me so hard, the mark took 15 days to disappear.”

You swallow. He’s correct again. 

Reluctantly, you loosen your grip on his chin. The position you’re both in hits you—his arm around your waist, his free hand still stroking the back of your thigh. Your one hand tangled in his jacket and the other still on his chin.

Heat floods your cheeks, and you recall him saying that there were more than one pair of eyes watching in this room. But, a part of you—the one who’s been deprived of Caleb for far too long, who had to contend with days of loneliness and missing him, couldn’t care less.

“Pipsqueak,” he murmurs, and his hand moves from your leg to your hair, gently nudging you deeper into the circle of his arms. The smell of him floods your nostrils with nostalgia and a hint of pine, the old Caleb you grew up with solidifying further and further under your touch. 

“Caleb…” 

Faster than two atoms on the path to collision, his lips are on yours.

Caleb kisses you like you’re the only source of oxygen left in his world. Something crashes onto the floor, and the plate of apples rolls onto the carpet, an orchard of sin scattered in between your legs pressed together. The sweet, tart flavor of the fruit he had just eaten saturates your tastebuds, and you moan when he desperately tangles his tongue with yours. 

He lifts you into his arms bridal style, and carries you down a narrow hallway you had never noticed before, the flashing thunder illuminating the gaudy paintings hung on the wall. 

He takes you to what looks like a medical room, though no one is in there. Your lips press to his neck, kissing and sucking on his pulse point. He hisses and in a low tone, warns, “Keep that up and you might regret it, Pipsqueak.” 

Gently, like you’re precious cargo, he sets you down onto the bed, those violet eyes like a newfound nebula fixed onto you, filled with the brightest stars in the galaxy.

Caleb runs his hand up your thigh, and you flicker your gaze to his gun holster. 

In the split second when he’s distracted, you lunge right for it, grabbing the handle.

He yelps, taken aback, but is faster, snapping his hand around your wrists to impede your movements. The gun drops from your grasp like dead weight, along with your hopes of ever escaping. If looks could kill, you would  be dead meat from the intensity of his glare.

Caleb exhales, fixing his frigid gaze onto yours. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, and you shiver at the dark edge in his tone. “You will pay for that.”

Gravity surrounds you like a weighted blanket, except it pins you to the bed rather than offering any comfort. Your whimper is lost behind the gloved hand that muffles your cries, hissing into your ear to, “Stay still, goddamnit.”

Caleb is breathing hard, a drop of sweat rolling from his temple down his throat. You feel it dripping onto your neck, your wild eyes fix on him. 

When he’s sure you won't retaliate again, he stands up from the bed, bearing down on you. Picking up the gun from the floor, he trails it right to your temple. His Evol hasn’t muffled your speech, but you don’t want to say a word to him, preferring to glare. 

“I asked you a simple question—”

“And, you know I can’t answer that,” he retaliates, recognizing what you’re trying to do. His brow furrows. “There are things I can’t tell you, Pips. Things you don’t even understand—”

“Then, help me understand!” You’re yelling now, close to tears. “Help me understand why you left… why you left me…” your voice breaks on the last word, and a look of regret shadows his face.

“I never wanted to.” The gun slides from your temple right to your jaw, but you’re not afraid of it. Nothing in the world can keep you from knowing the truth; from uncovering every layer in Caleb’s new facade. 

(But, maybe, this dark side of him has always been there, and you were just too blind not to notice). 

He takes a shaky breath. “If I had the choice to do it over again, I would’ve never—ever—left you.” 

Sincerity bleeds past the shades of night falling outside the window. Silence envelopes the two of you, and the realization dawns when he exhales your name.

“Pipsqueak…” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

You’re not his Pipsqueak anymore, the same way he is inexplicably not your Caleb anymore.

He gets back down to his knees, right in front of you. The look on his face is nothing short of misery, heavy with a thousand implications he could never divulge. 

You’re desperate, hungry for more. To know more, to feel more. To embrace the darkness brewing in you like the undeniable heat that’s simmering between your two bodies. 

“Do you hate it?” He asks softly, in a voice frayed with a thousand emotions, and you sense he’s not referring to your old nickname. Do you hate me? 

The silent question hangs heavy in the air, and without a second thought, you turn your face and press your lips to the barrel of his gun.

You can point a weapon at me, but you will never shoot, your kisses on the cold metal speak where words fail you. The gun trembles in his grasp, and between your body pinned to the bed from his Evol and a military-grade weapon pointed at you, what you’re doing is completely ballsy. And, insane.

“I know you have secrets,” you murmur as the cold metal tip travels to the nape of your neck. Despite himself and his rigorous self-control, Caleb is still a man. 

Still flesh and bone. Love and grief. 

“But, we’re a team, remember? You and me. Me and you. We work together, Caleb. Not against each other.” 

Your blurry mind tries hard to focus on the task at hand—needing to throw him off guard—but you can’t deny how the heat in his hooded eyes is making you feel.

He inhales sharply at your words, though the rest of his expression remains unreadable. “I told you, what I know is top secret and even you’re not allowed to know it.”

Those violet eyes trail down your susceptible body spread wide open for him on the bed, and you notice a flicker of hunger behind his dark gaze. 

You’ve always loved Caleb’s attention: whether he’s complimenting you on scoring a goal, or commending your plane model assembly skills. 

Everything you did was, to a degree, for him to see you. To finally accept you wholeheartedly and without restraint.

You were his little tail; the Pipsqueak who followed him around like his shadow.

And even now, when he has a gun right at your throat, all you can think about is how much you want to please him. 

Tilting your head back, you moan when the barrel slides down the valley of your breasts. His breathing is growing heavier; the look in his lilac eyes is stormy and dark.

“You… like this?” 

He sounds hoarse. In disbelief.

You nod. “I…” you lick your lips. “I love it.” 

The cool metal grazes your jaw, and when it taps on your lips, you don’t hesitate to part them. Glancing into those molten, violet eyes, you suck on the hollow tip, aware of his finger on the trigger and the look of undefiled lust on his face. 

“God,” he mumbles, hungrily eyeing how deep the barrel is down your throat. “You’re such a good, good little girl…”

He prises the gun from between your teeth, and the strands of saliva connecting your swollen lips to the spit-soaked metal shimmers in the low light. 

Caleb tosses the gun onto the table, growling as he crawls on top of you. 

The effect of his Evol fades, allowing you to move your feet, but his hands on your knees make sure you can’t pull off anything funny.

“You’re gonna lay back, and you’re going to be good,” he lifts your leg and kisses over your knee. It would be so easy to drive the hard cartilage right into his nose… but, you don’t want his hands to leave your skin. You want to see what he will do next. 

The off-duty Hunter uniform you’re wearing rides up your thighs, exposing the plush fat of your thighs. His gloves rasping on your skin drives a shiver up your spine. 

It’s like he refuses to engage in skin-to-skin, whether as punishment or a caution. 

You whine softly when his bigger body bears down on yours.

“Caleb…” 

He grasps your chin, none too gentle as he pulls you closer to him. “Look at you,” he growls, pushing himself closer—the heat of his body melting with yours. “Look at what you do to me.” 

It’s hard to even breathe when he’s close enough to devour your face. 

His breath grazes your cheek, and you close your eyes. Your oldest childhood friend savors the proximity, taking in a whiff of your clean perfume. 

Before your mind can play catchup, your body falls right into the orbit of his desire; lips on his, breaths mingling as one. 

“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, a moan pulled from the depths of his chest, tortured and strangled. “You taste so—nhng—” 

He gasps when your arms come to loop around his shoulders, dragging him almost between your legs. He steadies himself, gloved palms on the bed. You run your hands over the starch grooves of his jacket, finding the first button. 

Caleb lets your touch wander aimlessly, his breath caught in the back of his throat.

“Are you sure?” He whispers, those anguished violet eyes almost gouging into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. “Are you sure you want this?”

Are you sure you want me? 

As a silent answer, you lean forward, catching his lower lip in between your teeth. 

“Ngnhmhm,” he moans, gasping when you bite down hard. 

He tastes blood and your desperation, helping you unbutton his coat. The heavy chain slaps against your eager cheek in his rush to slide it off his arms. “Shit—sorry.” Cool fingers brush the afflicted cheek. “You alright, sweetness?” 

You nod, huffing and moving your hands to his other lighter jacket, unbuttoning it. He chuckles at your eagerness and helps you with the brass buttons. As the layer disappears, you’re confronted with another shirt.

“How many clothes are you wearing?!” Your cry brings a mischievous grin tugging on the corners of his lips. 

“Lots,” he murmurs and takes over with a nimble skill only a man of his caliber can have. The grey shirt melts off his broad shoulders, discarded onto the floor, and finally—fucking finally—he removes the black turtleneck, revealing smooth acres of warmed, tan skin right under your touch. 

You exhale shakily, running your fingers down his distinct pectorals, tugging on the dog tag around his neck. Your eyes land on the familiar apple charm.

“How—?” 

He thumbs the similar charm hanging from around your neck. For the first time this evening, he voluntarily gives up some information. 

“I—uh—had someone copy my old necklace.”

The look of disbelief on your face is enough to deter his next words. 

“You decoyed the necklace I gifted you?” 

Caleb winces. “C’mon, Pip—I-I mean, love…” he sighs and presses his palm to the back of your head, drawing you closer to peck your pouty lips. “It helped me make sure you were safe. Plus,” he adds, a touch of humor in his tone. “You did tell me you would kick my ass if I ever took it off.” 

You struggle to understand the layers behind his words, fighting to form a reply when his lips travel to the juncture of your neck, softly kissing and sucking your sensitive flesh. 

Focused on retrieving the truth, you fight hard against his best efforts at derailing you. “You—mhm—were tracking me? All this time?” 

Caleb doesn’t pause his sensual assault, groaning softly. “Won’t call it tracking per say…” 

You want to get mad. Truly, you do. But, the feeling of his teeth grazing your pulse point melts any coherent thoughts left in your brain.

The confusion you felt before gives way to something deeper. Unrestrained. He kisses you again, and you absorb the feeling of warm skin under your palms, feeling the heat of his body thrumming under your touch. His muscles expand and contract with every shaky breath, his chest pressed so intimately to yours.

You squirm, and he hisses, restraining your hips to the bed.

“Stop that,” he hisses. 

Confusion overtakes you, and  you want to ask what’s wrong when he winces and shifts his hips further from yours, instinctively setting a physical boundary you want gone immediately.

“Are you scared?” It’s your turn to goad him. If he thinks you’re going to be nothing but docile and wanting, he’s been away for far too long. 

His lips twitch. “Of you? Nah. But, of what I can do?” His voice drops an octave, and he leans in, one gloved hand going to your chin, holding it in place. “If anyone should be scared, it’s you.” 

Caleb tests the waters of this new dynamic unfolding between you two, dipping his fingers past the gap of your lips. The breach should make you pull away, take a step back to reassess the situation.

But, you’re as much under his spell as you have bewitched him. 

The taste of earthy hardness fills your mouth, and you suck on his thumb obediently. 

Caleb looks down at you, the heat in his eyes almost touching the boiling point. A few more moments of your teasing, and he would be close to bursting and taking you right on this bed. 

Never one to be satisfied with what he is allowed to take, Caleb pushes his luck further, sinking his thumb deeper down the soft gullet of your throat; compressing your gurgled words down to the bottom of your mouth in his journey to devour everything you can give him. 

“Oh, fuck.” He groans when you take another finger into your mouth like you were meant for him. “That’s a good girl… my good little girl…” 

You moan around his digits stuffed down your throat, peeling your watery eyes to his smirking expression.

“Cat got your tongue, Pipsqueak?” He murmurs, and stretches your jaw with a third finger. You’re so full of the taste of him, you start to choke. “You look so pretty like this—not a thought in your brain, just relying on me to make you full… to make you whole.” 

His words send a shiver down your spine. You want to protest, but deep down, it’s true.

The grief that clashes with his year-long absence, this “new” side to him you are starting to unravel… the old Calen, the one you loved and looked up to, is starting to metamorphosize right before your eyes.

“Cwaleb—” you whimper past his fingers. 

He’s barely laid a hand on you and you’re already folding. 

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, he discreetly wipes off your spit on the bed sheets, fixing you with an arched brow. 

As if asking: Well… your move, Pipsqueak. 

Your hands fly to the buckle of his military pants, the sound of his zipper dragging down punctuating the air like a crass remark. 

Caleb stiffens when he feels your cool finger dipping past the waistband and he shudders, mind going hazy at a touch he had only dreamed off but never thought would come true. When you reveal him to the cool air, he’s half-flaccid, already at a six inch mast and the prettiest shade of pink you have ever seen with an undertone of mauve.

He’s part of the thicker team, though length-wise, it would make any woman scream and cream. Heavy balls. A slight curve. Growing up pumped full of hormones, you had secretly wondered how your oldest childhood friend’s cock would look like, but you never once anticipated seeing it in real time.

“Holy…” you trail off, and he grins.

“Like what you see?” 

You’re spread out for him on the threadbare sheets like a vision from a forbidden oasis. As much as he wants to bury himself in you, Caleb needs to make sure you’re ready first. He licks his lips, whets his appetite, and fills up your empty mouth with his tongue. 

“Mhm…” you groan into the depths of his mouth. “Caleb…” You swallow, and deciding to throw him off, you murmur a word he thought would never, ever come out from your mouth: 

“Sir,” you whimper. “ Kiss me harder…” 

Sparks go off in his mind. He feels like the force of the explosion has finally caught up with him a year later and his breath is knocked out from his lungs. 

“What did you say?” 

His deep violet eyes devour the look of wanton desire on your face, mind drawing a blank.

Did you just…? 

Did he hear it right? 

“Again,” he almost stutters, desperately needing to hear that word from your lips. “Say that word again.”

The restraint in your mind is at best a flimsy net letting your inhibitions fly freely. “Sir,” the word drips from your lips like the sultriest confession; the look on his face like that of a holy man scandalized. Except Caleb wasn’t holy—he was hardly a saint. He was the scum of the earth trying to lay his corrupted hands on a being far too precious for him. 

Immolating from his own self-hatred, it’s hard for him to fathom that you want this—that you want him. 

“Please,” your whisper cuts through the tension of the self-inflicted torment settling onto pensive demeanor. “Please… make love to me, Sir.”

All his years of restraint—of immaculate self-control—snaps like the last leaf off an autumn branch. He rains dizzying kisses down onto the jut of your collarbone, summer rain sweeter than sin on your tongue.

Caleb removes his pants, kicking the heavy material down to the floor as he works his boots off frantically with the toes of each alternating foot. 

The feel of his body on yours, almost smothering you to the mattress, drives you wild with a heat stoking right in the heart of your core.

“Sir,” you murmur, almost dizzy with lust. 

He pops open the buttons of your dress, slipping it down your shoulders. The swathes of your bare skin presented for him makes him feel like he’s barely lucid, lost in a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. With one hand, he expertly unhooks your bra and slides it down your body, tossing it onto the floor where it joins his pants.

Caleb is barely restrained when he pushes you back onto the bed, his lips finding refuge in the juncture of your neck and shoulders. He nips, licks and sucks like his life depends on marking you; the sight of his marks on your skin only serves to make his feral need rise higher and higher. 

He takes refuge right at your chest, nibbling and nipping the plush fat of your breasts till you’re practically vibrating with excitement, your nipples wet with his spit and aching for more of his touch. 

The dark haired man can barely stop himself from what he does next—sliding your dress further down your body till the rise of your lace panties appears in his sights like the sun breaking over the horizon.

He feels the warmth of you on his face, right in his cheeks as your thighs tighten around his head.

“Oh, love,” he groans, like a man starving. “C’mere, Princess—”

He pulls you closer till your pelvis bumps his chin and you squeak, feeling his hot breath graze your bare skin. 

“Caleb—”

Your protests die an immature death when he buries his tongue right into your tight cunt. He moans at your taste, the lightning playing with shadows all over your body, illuminating the pulsing beats of darkness hiding behind those violet eyes. His pupils almost swallow those lilac orbs whole, their darkened gaze latched right onto you. 

“God,” he mumbles like a man tasting manna for the first time. “... s’sweet… this pussy is so sweet…”

The charming, charismatic and kind Caleb from before would’ve never dared utter such words in front of you. But, his other twin in bed, the one who wears his face complete with a devilish smirk, rolls his tongue over your syrupy folds, moaning at your flavor.

You taste like candied apples, and Caleb thinks he could eat you up whole. 

He squeezes more moans past your sweet lips when he draws all your folds into his mouth, spitting it back out only to do it again and again and again. 

“You’re so wet,” he slurs, those pretty purple eyes already pussy-drunk. “So fucking wet f’me.” 

Your legs spread, wrapping around his shoulders, the taste of your cunt almost coating the back of his throat—Caleb couldn’t be more in love with you.

“Mhm,” he moans, a sight in between your legs, chin slick with your juices, eyes half-closed in pure ecstasy. 

“You’re so full for me… dripping down everywhere,” he murmurs, placing a quick kiss onto your twitchy clit. “I could drink you for days.” 

Your cries and moans only fuel him to be meaner. Now that he has you in the palm of his hand, he’s not planning to let go of you anytime. 

It’s filthy, animalistic, and utterly raw. The emotions he evokes in you quakes through your soul, seeping out of your core only to be consumed by him, your lust growing his lust, his moans inciting your yearning. 

Caleb continues his gentle assault on your clit with his tongue, grinning against your cunt. 

“Louder… let them hear you.” He slips one leather-clad finger inside your pussy, pressing down on the spongy, soft spot. Those pretty lips wrap around your clit, giving it a gentle suck and you fold. 

You keen, tangling your fingers in his hair. It’s one thing to be eaten out this thoroughly, but another to be subjected to such pleasurable torture by a man who has hungered for you for years.

“Good girl,” the bridge of his nose almost rubs your clit raw when he buries his tongue even deeper inside you. “Louder,” he moans past flesh and more pussy juice gushing onto his chin. “Make it messy, baby.” 

Caleb… Caleb… your breaths come out in huge gasps, your back arching off the bed. 

He makes unravelling you look so easy, and you’d be absolutely pissed off if he wasn’t edging you towards the biggest orgasm of your life. 

While you’re in the throes of your pleasure, you feel his gloved hand wrap around your throat, thumb pushing past your flush lips.

“Mhm—” you moan at the flavor of him saturating your tongue. “Oh… Caleb—”

“Yeah,” he growls, chest rumbling. “Say my name, baby. Say it. Scream it.”

“Caleb,” your moans double in volume, the pleasure about to burst from your seams. “Oh, Caleb—!” 

Heat, wetness, a deep, stirring pleasure threatening to consume you, and then—

Nothing.

Caleb pulls away, squeezing your thighs. He rips off the gloves, and finally—finally—you feel his skin on yours.

The rasp of his warmth across your thighs drives goosebumps down your arms. “Shit,” you whimper when he pushes your thighs further apart to settle in between them. His body smothers yours, encompassing you in the pure mass that is his weight bearing fully down onto your exposed body.

Bastard. He leaves you hanging, reeling from a ruined orgasm, as you glare at him, your anger and indignation sputtering and dying on your tongue.

“Caleb! You—you—”

He grins, dark and sweaty bangs falling all over face as he drags you closer by the hips. 

“Open wide, pretty,” Caleb coaxes, thumbing the head of his pretty cock, smearing precum all over his digit. 

Fuck—ah… you groan sinfully. The sight of him pleasuring himself is seared in your brain. You bite your lower lip, shifting your hips. Need drips from your gasping breaths and your head is spinning.

Easy, he murmurs. I gotcha.

Caleb lifts your hips in his large hands, finding the perfect angle before slipping the sticky head between your folds. Your gasp grazes his ears in a warm puff, a telltale sign of your unexpected surprise at how good this feels.

It reminds you of those times when he would tease you as kids—always holding something out of reach and never giving in unless you begged nicely.

And, you sense it’s what he’s doing right now. Mercilessly teasing, testing your patience. Waiting for you to beg.

Caleb grasps the base of his hefty cock and runs it over the mess of your creases, soaked with your excitement for him. He teasingly pushes the plump head past the slutty ring of muscle gaping open for him, and heaves in a deep groan, like that of a beast about to breed his mate. Your eyes are crossed with pleasure, and you’re whimpering sweetly, no thoughts forming in your brain besides more, more, more.

You ache for him, but all you can do is take his teasing. “Please,” you huff, peeling your docile, little lamb eyes onto him, wishing he would relent and just fuck you.

The sheets twist in your fist and your other hand is tangled in his sweat-soaked hair.

Caleb uses one hand to brush his damp bangs off his face, and he grins, intent on making you pliable to his every whim. He presses a kiss to your jugular, biting down on it, relishing in your jolt of pleasure.

You’re so sensitive, even his pelvis grinding down on your clit feels good and you shift your hips higher, desperate for more friction—for more of him.

“Sir,” you sputter, woozy. “Please… please…” 

Caleb hums, lifts your thighs over his broad, muscular shoulders. The slight tilt spreads you out for him, a wildflower blooming under his touch. You’ve captivated him with your scent, your skin, your sweet sounds…

But, little does he know, you’re equally enraptured; caught in his trap. 

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs hoarsely. “Pretty when you beg. Pretty when you look at me like you can’t wait a second longer…”

His wet lips swell around your pulse point again, flowering heated kisses onto your sensitive skin.

“Nghh—Caleb,” you whimper and he chuckles—that bastard.

“You ready, sweets?” He teases you, shooting you a smug, stupid smile much to your consternation. 

You want to roll your eyes and be crass, asking him to just give up and put it in, but your words get stuck right in your throat when you realize you're already on the verge of losing it altogether.

You take one good look at him, and wet your lips, yielding with a nod. 

“Yes, Sir.”

Your obedience is like a hit of ecstasy for him, firing up his veins, and he moans, shifting closer to you. The bulbous tip jostles deep inside you as another inch is added and you writhe, eyes squeezed close in delirium. “Mhnmph!” 

Your moans shoot through his veins like licks of a strong, disorientating drug and Caleb groans. His hefty body is already shaking from the strain, and he doesn’t know how long he can last. His thighs shudder, and he has to bite on his lower lip to keep from moaning like a goddamn loser when he finally sinks his dick all the way into the love of his life. 

“Mhm—ah!” Your nails dig into his shoulders and he hisses. 

He gives you a split second to get used to the sensation, nothing more, nothing less. Obviously, he’s waited for you for his entire life. Etiquette and consideration can come later—all he wants to do right now is fuck the ever loving shit out of you. Caleb sets a pace, one that has you twitching, and he seethes at your lack of resistance.

“You’re—hnng, already so eager,” he snarls. “Been dreaming about this? About my cock?”

The sight of your decoyed necklace slapping against your skin from every thrust drives him dizzy with lust. His name on the dog tag, the apple charm looking so innocent and snug right in the valley of your luscious tits. It doesn’t take much to please a man like him and Caleb is as happy as a dog who got the best bone. 

He gnaws on your shoulder, teeth making indents on your precious skin.

Your thighs tighten around his shoulders, body almost folded in half like a pancake.

Caleb… Caleb… you whisper-gasp, the darkness of the room and the subsiding storm outside the windows lending to the dark yet intense atmosphere.

He licks along your bottom lip, sucking on your tongue. You taste so good, Princess…

Your whimpers brush his chin and his hair tickles your sternum as he ducks his head lower, bringing your stiff peaks into his mouth. He nurses and suckles on you, a fiendish look in his eyes.

“Mhmph—you taste like sin,” he groans deeply, the sound travelling all the way down to your core. The forbidden fruit, right here in his arms and like a selfish man, he wants more.

Without warning, gravity disengages around your body and you’re pinned to the ceiling in the blink of an eye. 

It feels surreal to look over his shoulder, at the bed hovering above your head, the medicine cabinet and lamp all peering up at you like a twisted version of wonderland. 

“Caleb—!” 

He silences your protests with a harsh kiss, licking and sucking on your lower lip till you whimper and quiver. Deftly, he guides your hips away from him and lets gravity do the rest. You sink down—full and to the hilt. He’s so deep in you, you swear you can taste him all the way in the back of your throat. 

Caleb fucks you this way—mean, demanding—using gravity and his Evol to his advantage. 

You writhe and twist in his grasp, head thrown back. The ceiling wall is cold against your back, though he’s warm enough to the touch to make your head spin.

Bodies press intricately, you can’t tell where he begins and where you end. Like two snakes interlocking, you feel Caleb everywhere. His breath on your neck, his hands roaming down your body possessively, the feel of his thick girth hitting every spot just right.

Drool drips down your chin, and you feel him chuckle; the rough rasp of his tongue lapping it up.

Messy girl, he drawls, smacking his lips. A smug grin tugs on his mouth, giving his boyishly handsome face a devilish touch. 

Give me more, he urges. More. Make it messy, Princess.

He sucks on your pulse point, your neck the perfect canvas for his marks. Nuzzling you close, you feel the tenderness behind his searing need.

His cock molds into you like a perfect fit. The sound of his hefty balls slapping wetly against your skin fills the room with a salacious symphony. 

Caleb, Caleb, Caleb. You can’t control the stream of moans escaping your puffy lips. He kisses you hard again, deepening it and letting his tongue tangle with yours in a passionate dance. Your heart swells with adoration for him; his flavor heavy on your tongue, sousing through your senses like a creeping heat reaching towards its completion. 

His touch kindles up more desire as if you’re dry straw waiting to catch fire, and oh—does he let you burn. 

Strings of your pussy juice drip past his balls, streaking his thighs like filthy snail trails. The shine of your own arousal dribbles past the pert curve of his fit ass, and ribbons into droplets falling from the ceiling like it’s goopy rain. 

Caleb doesn’t care about the mess you’re making. All he wants is to see you unravel.

Your cheeks flushed, eyes crossed—he leans in to kiss you hard, needing to taste your desperation firsthand.

Your hot moans give everything up to him, your body quaking like a tempest ready to unleash hell onto his self-control. 

He grunts when you fist his hair, finding your rhythm as you fuck him back, meeting him in the middle. The sway of your hips tells him all he needs to know—his little mei mei isn’t as innocent as he thinks she is.

“—taught you how to fuck like that?” He grunts, lapping at a bead of sweat about to freefall from your chin. 

“Huh?” You peel your watery eyes on his, his sticky kiss gracing your cheek.

“Said—who taught my sweet, innocent, little Pipsqueak to fuck like this?” 

He punctuates his emphasis with two harsh thrusts, his length jabbing your cervix. 

You grunt, eyes rolling back into your head. “N-no one—fuck,” you whine when he slips one big hand between your bodies, rolling his thumb over your lubricious clit.

“A-ah!” your cries rebound across the room as he plays with your fleshy pearl, thumbing circles onto it vigorously, hoping to glean your confession. “Ngh—Caleb!” 

Your thighs begin to shake, and his grin turns wolfish. “Won’t let you come ‘less you tell me the truth, Pipsqueak. M’waiting.”

He stamps a possessively hard kiss onto the nape of your neck, like he’s trying to drive the mark of his mouth past your skin. 

“I’m telling the truth,” you whimper. “Never had no one—no one but you.”

A deep, guttural groan brushes the soft shell of your ear.

“Swear?” he demands. 

“Uh-huh,” you hiccup, all dulcet and demure with the position he has you in. Your lachrymose eyes are fixated on him and only him—Caleb thinks his body might burst from all the blood swelling in his cock and heart.

He huns, and runs his tongue down your clavicle. “Good girl… good little Pips.”

The nickname combined with his derogatory tone inadvertently makes you clench around him tighter, and he hisses. 

“You’ll be the death of me, y’know?” His eyes darken and he drives his hips harder as if trying to make a point. “Gonna make sure you never leave my side—we’ll always be together. Forever.” 

You whine and dig your nails into his biceps. 

“Caleb—” you gasp, almost falling out of his grasp and face down onto a bed 10 feet below you. But, he tightens his grip, and you know he would never let you go. 

He shuffles you deeper into the alcove of his body, and you tighten your hold around his neck. “You—mhm—are insane.”

“Yeah?” He grins. “Only for you, Pips.”

Tingles running down your spine, and you feel hot and cold at the same time. He fixes his sights on your glassy gaze, enjoying how wrecked you look under him. 

(Well, technically, above him with the power of his Evol, but eh, semantics). 

The storm outside is no match for the one raging inside of you, and you cling onto him like a second skin, drunk off the pleasure he’s inducing in you. Kissing his jaw, nipping his lower lip. Caleb grunts when you press your chest to him, the feeling of your pert nipples rubbing against his toned pecs making him feel like this is all a dream—one he doesn’t want to wake up from.

Too soon, his vision to see you come undone flashes as you toss your head back and moan his name.

“Caleb…”

Your whimper is a signal of your impending release, and he grits his teeth, driving his hips further into you, planting his knees on the water-stained ceiling and going ham on your pliant body. 

He feels you shuddering around him, dipping his head to feast on the sweat slicking your tits.

He glances up at you, catching your eye the second your release tears through you, his smirk making your heart skip a few beats.

Caleb feels the heat stirring in his own belly. You’re down for the count, holding onto him like a washed up doll whose lax mouth occasionally lets out a few moans and whimpers.

So pliant… so malleable… so easily molded to his whims…

Breaking you clean, he wants to dominate every inch of your body—claim your thoughts as his so that all you think, feel and want is him.

“Ngh,” he groans, burying his face into the crook of his neck as he finally breaks and fat loads of hot cum fill you up.

Caleb holds you closer—securely—as he reels his Evol in, and slowly floats down onto the bed with you in his arms.

With the combination of the serum, your release and this newfound dynamic between you and Caleb, you’re out cold in seconds.

He feels your body going limp, giving way to sleep and presses his nose into your hair. For a few moments, he refuses to let you go, arms protectively wrapped around you. 

Then, the peace is shattered by a polite knock on the door. 

“... Colonel… we need to evaluate her…”

Shit. He licks his lips and groans softly. You’re so warm, so comfortable in his arms. He can’t let you out his grasp. 

But, duty calls and the Farspace Fleet is a minefield of legality. He can’t steal away and run off with their test subject.

Not yet, at least. 

As much as he wants to stay like this with you forever, Caleb steels his heart and pulls out of your warm, slurry depths. He dresses you first, and then gets himself presentable. 

First Commander Brigette of the medical aide steps in at his signal. Her silver hair is tightened into a bun and mirrors the tight look of dismay on her face. 

“Sir, it is imperative—”

“Don’t. Not now,” he mutters tersely and straightens his tie. “Just check if her vitals are alright. And, don’t you dare mention this to anyone else, you hear me? If you do, things’ll get messy for me—the next round of body bags hasn’t been shipped in yet.” 

She nods, though she looks like she wants to argue. 

The rest of the fleet didn’t yet know of his true relationship with you—to them, you’re just a pretty face their Colonel took a fancy to. And, he wants to keep it that way for as long as he can while he formulates the best plan to get you to safety. 

“The sedative we gave her was meant to lower her inhibitions enough to confess,” Brigitte murmurs. “I didn’t think—”

“If she doesn’t wake up, I’m throwing you and your team right into the Deepspace tunnel,” he threatens. 

The award-winning scientist flinches, and lowers her gaze. “Colonel Xia, we will recover the antidote for her quickly.”

Caleb exhales, the tension in his broad shoulders lessening slightly. That’s what he likes to hear. 

Brigette soon finishes her rounds of physical examinations on you. She bows and exits the medical room, leaving him alone with you again. 

Caleb steps forward and gently runs his gloved fingers through your hair. In the silence of the fleet, where mechanical whirs mingle with his steady breathing, he makes you a promise that he will do everything in his power to fulfill.

“I swear I’m getting you out of here in one piece, Pipsqueak.” He leans forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Swear it on my life.”

He told you before that you would always see him when he came home and this time, he intends to keep his promise till the very end.

a/n: i need this man biblically and carnally,,,, feedbacks and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim as your own or feed my content to AI learning tools.

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[cheonstapes]

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘THE SWEETER THE JUICE’ o(^-^)o

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡. miguel o’hara x reader .｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

SMUT

now he’s finally got you pregnant, he’s gonna do what he’s been dreaming of all these years. suck. those. tits.

same universe as this miguel.

cw; lactation kink, pregnancy, breeding kink (not really but yknow me), dry humping, titties, older nerd!miguel, they’re finally married!

800+ words

@cheonstapes : she’s back! again!

if miguel had to pick a part of your body he loved the most, it’d definitely be your tits.

if you think he was obsessed before — you don’t wanna know what goes through his head as he watches you waddle around his house, carrying his kid, sighing every time you leak through another shirt. you had forgone a bra ever since you got pregnant, saying how uncomfortable they feel against your chest — not that he was complaining.

“for fucks-sake, again?”

he was so used to hearing you say that, he already had a shirt on hand for you to change into. you were so grateful for your doting husband that you completely missed that nasty glint in his eyes you usually only see when he’s bending you over the bed and fucking you raw — luckily for him.

“here, honey. lift your arms for me.”

as you do, he pulls the shirt up — the soiled fabric catching under your swollen breasts as he wiggles it off you. “ah, shit — thanks, baby. but fuck, am i’m so tired of changing shirts every 10 minutes!” you might be tired, but miguel cannot get enough of it. he was already so fucking hard, practically salivating at the sight of your bare breasts still leaking down your heavy belly.

“maybe you should just ditch the shirts all together, love — you know i hate seeing my beautiful wife uncomfortable.” miguel’s voice was a soft whisper in your ear, lips slowly tracing down the side of your jaw to your sensitive neck — kissing the skin so tenderly. his calloused hands gently massaged the taut flesh of your tits, probing and squeezing at your nipples to let out small trickles of that sweet milk.

“migs, how many times are you gonna say that?”

“as many as it takes for you to finally listen.”

the breathy laugh you let out did little to qualm the feeling deep in his gut — he was dead serious, there was absolutely no reason for you to be in shirts all the time when you have him to take care of you whenever you needed a good milking. his hips were already sinking into to the plush of your ass that he loved oh-so-much — especially with how much fatter it got during your pregnancy.

it was almost as if he had lost control of his body, a hand landing on your waist to bend you over the counter as he mindlessly ruts into you. “dios, nena, eres tan hermosa. vas a ser la mamá más guapa, ¿verdad? mm, my pretty, little mama.” miguel never failed to turn you on to no bounds, like, you have a walking greek god as a husband — but those fucking hormones were making it unbearable.

the force at which he was pushing against you had shifted your drenched panties to the side, leaving practically nothing between you and his drooling bulge. his fingers tightened around the fat of your hips, squeezing the flesh delicious hard as his free hand flipped you over — pushing your back against the edge of the counter. “shit…been waiting to taste these all fucking day, honey.”

mindful of your growing belly, he hiked one of your legs up on his hip — craning his neck down to suck on a pert nipple. wasting no time, and at a much better angle, he continued to grind against you — his tip catching against your engorged clit. “m—migs, baby, fuck…” the way he swirled and sucked so eagerly reminded you of when you first started dating, how determined he was to knock you up before the two of you even moved in together.

the taste was so addicting, some of your milk trickling down his body — dripping onto the ground beneath you. you knew he was about to cum, hard — his eyes had rolled back, breathing in heavy pants, hands rushing to pull down the waistband of his sweats. “gonna paint my girls in my cum, love — sé una buena chica y mantenlos juntos para mí.”

“‘course, baby.” you nodded breathlessly, squishing the globes of fat together as he pumped his cock dry — head thrown back as ropes upon ropes of his hot seed coated your tits, sliding into the self-made crevice. “god, what did i do in my past life to have a wife as sexy as you, mamí?” his spent cock bobbed against his thigh as he trapped you against the counter — kissing you deeply as his wet hands reaching up to rub the cum into the skin of your breasts.

“mmph — y’know, i heard cum’s good for the skin. it, uh, helps with the blood circulation in your tits — i think we should do this more often, love.”

“migs, if you weren’t, like — a whole scientist, i might’ve believed you. if you want a titjob, just say that.”

“…i mean, you said it — not me.”

all your home shirts were promptly locked away and never to be seen again.

-new year, new waiting for cheon to get her shit together andpost!

[dolibeauti]

nsfw mdni

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki hates your guts (or so he says). but you always roll your eyes when he says it because you know he’s lying

you know he’s lying because when he begs you to give him a blowjob under his desk when he plays his silly games, his moans leave behind little ‘fuck, i love you’s which makes you more giddy to suck him dry. and when you try to confront him about it, he scoffs and forces your head to his crotch once more.

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki loves wearing DESPICABLE (me) shirts that make you squeal in embarrassment. like you ever seen someone wearing those gosh awful hentai shirts? i hope you haven’t but he lounges around in them at home and occasionally risks it and wear it under his baggy hoodie in public.

you know what also makes you squeal? when he forces you to cockwarm him when he’s on a call with his friends while playing multiplayer horror games. he isn’t immune to a little scare so he flinches every once in a while that forces you to jerk on his cock. his mic is right beside your head so you have to cover your mouth with a hand to stop from making a noise. don’t worry, though, he always fucks you real good if you stay silent.

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki makes you play the MOST horrifying games he can get his hands on. i’m talking ones that make you let out a blood-curdling scream.

he also asks you to watch porn with him (≧◡≦)! the type of videos he watches aren’t like crazy but they aren’t much tame either. (ex. choking kink, probs bdsm, etc.) AND LIKE I SAIDD he loves hands. especially his so he loves choking you while watching (´▽`). ++++ quirk au… he scares you - in a hot way.

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki honestly does nothing all day. he’s on his ass in baggy clothing watching tv, on his phone, or playing a game!

but he’s lowkey a sex addict so his “most productive” thing he does is | 1. eating your cunt. he eats it like there no tomorrow but he’s lazy and sloppy and he may or may not unintentionally edge you until you’re a mess and your soul is sucked out. | 2. watch tv while you give him a hand job. he loves seeing and feeling your hand squeeze his length, simple as that!

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki hates to admit it but he loves you in so many different ways.

of course, he loves you! but he also loves plunging his fat dick into your cunt until you’re screaming. absolutely drilling it into you with no end. but he also loves using you up to your sexual limits.

[shmpxx]

HIS TRUE COLORS — h.y

⛤ hiori yo x fem! reader

⟢ Unlike everyone else you’re not fond of Hiori yo, you have an instinct he has another side of him.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampie. sadism. dacryphilia. praising. biting + marking. cervix kissing. nipple play. false innocence. aftercare. masochist! reader. sadist! hiori. +18!

w☆rd count. 1.3k

a/n: I’m still here guys, don’t worry!

Something about hiori yo, you ultimately disliked. There was no way he was this “nice” guy that absolutely everyone adored even your friends, you know that theres another side to him that you simply just couldn’t put your finger on it yet. You’re very clear on how you felt about him, you would roll your eyes and scoff when he spoke, when everyone would laugh with him you just sat there with your arms crossed and your brows furrowed.

Hiori had always known your despise against him since the first time you both met, you never tried to be discreet about it. He would say hello to you in the morning of class but you would ignore him, not even a glance at him. You would mutter a curse under your breath when he still gives you a warm smile, you would cringe and everyone would scold you to be nice and to stop acting like a child, he does nothing but show you kindness and you should reciprocate that. Like hell you should.

“I just don’t like him” you couldn’t really explain further more until you know when you find evidence on him and prove to everyone he is not what he seems to be. There was some doubts still you trusted your gut and went with it.

It was a unlucky day for you when the group decided to go for drinks though your friends were unable to bring you home because they were drunk and decided to stay longer, it was your time to leave because your energy was drained, you couldn’t stay any later and typically Hiori was your only ride home. It was heavily raining too but you’d rather get soaked and catch a cold than be alone with Hiori. You wanted to though you wouldn’t bring yourself to do that so you had to suck it up for your sake. Just ignore him.

Somehow you ended up stripped off your clothes completely bare with nothing on with your legs spread open on your matress. Your upper body is covered in bite marks and purple bruises, your lips were swollen from his excessive kissing.

“You’re really pretty like this under me, ‘s pretty..” Hiori rubbing his cock between your soft folds, his tip brushing lightly on your clit and your humming sweet sounds instead of moans, you totally wanted to deny that you were enjoying this but you were slightly rolling your hips to feel extra of his cock prodding your clit, you think he can’t tell but he can from the way he smirks the way your body reacts.

First of all how did this even happen? He was being thoughtful to walk you to your door but he couldn’t stop glaring at you. Staring you down like he couldn’t wait for you to unlock your door. He let himself in as soon as you turned your key. His hands already making their way to touch you before you could utter a word. Now you can’t recall the last few moments from the way his dick is slipping between your wet folds.

“I was crushing on you hard when we first met..you hated me and now i get to have you”

“Your such..a weirdo!…hah”

The gaze in his eyes changed from gentle to lust. You thought he would be more on the tender side when he got you on your bed and how awfully wrong you are.

“Take it like a good girl okay?” Your ankles rested on top of his shoulders as he shoved his cock into your tight slit. A satisfied expression spreading across his face when you scream out a cry, tears were coming quick and down your face, your squeezing the blanket underneath you. Your lips quivered by his lengthy cock splitting your tensed cunt.

“It hurts hiori!”

“I know…but it’ll feel good”

He didn’t even give you time to adjust, his hips was already snapping against you. Your not telling him to stop, you’re whimpering and whining, taking his cock like you should he thought. There was pain and pleasure you were feeling at the same time, you couldn’t stop babbling how much it hurts but it felt so good he didn’t lie, him making you feel good and he was seeking pleasure from your tears. His cock rubbing intensely inside you and poking at your cervix.

“Yer such a good girl..ya my good girl aren’t you? R-right?”

“S-stop saying w-weird things..” you say with your last breath.

He lowers himself with his lips hovering over your perked nipple, his hands cup your boob fitting it into his mouth. Swirling his tongue and grazes your bud slightly with his teeth, while pinching your other. You moan like a desperation of help, your hand on his shoulders to push him away it was just too hard, even his hips rocking hard into your pussy.

When he sinks his teeth into your skin of your shoulder, neck, over your tits. Even his lips laps the bite marks he already created, he thought were a masterpiece like you were his little artwork. His hands on your hips were soft though his fingers were digging into them, purposely bruising you, still your pussy was clenching around his cock.

“Ow hiori..” you whimper when he bites a little too hard.

“‘M sorry” he licks over the grooves of his teeth marks on your skin to sooth you. Though he was already going to bite you even harder.

The way he watches you shut your eyes tight by every thrust. Your body taking the relentless treatment from the so-called “nice guy”. Your eyebrows pinched together because his cock keeps reaching deep inside your cunt, rubbing against your sweet spot. How could you let this happen? Let the person you despised most and everyone is fond of stretch your pussy out on your bed, the tears won’t stop prickling your eyes.

“Hiori-“ you hiccup

“Shh, just look at me, ya taking me so well,” throwing both your ankles on his shoulder and he pushes his cock deeper makes you gasp. It was like you loss your own sense of control when your eyes fluttered open, the water in your eyes creating a bit of a blur and it gives him excitement.

“‘S cute, ‘s pretty” you never thought he spewed so many words before because he wasn’t very talkative.

You felt it. You felt it bubbling up in your stomach. There’s was no way he was going to make you cum, you so wanted to though. You wouldn’t say it out loud yet you hope he doesn’t stop. And he doesn’t, his moans become heavier and your cries start to get louder.

“M gonna c-cum inside mkay?..”

“Don’t be stupid!..Ah fuck!”

He cums inside just like he said, his warm load stuffing you so quickly and you’re creaming over his cock so perfectly just like how he imagined. The same longing gaze doesn’t leave your face and your palms cover your eyes as you were embarrassed and your walls are still contracting around his cock.

You sat between his legs in a tub as he washes your back but also pressing soft kisses on your wet skin, humming to himself as you were contemplating everything that just happened. You didn’t know what to feel, you just had sex with a guy you loathe and turns out he was just actually a sadist that was interested in you. What would you tell your friends? What would they think? You can’t, you promised you’d prove them wrong but not like how this ended.

His arms come to wrap around your waist and pull you closer into his wet chest surprisingly broad “what are you thinking about?” He mumbles in your ear making you shiver yet your heart skips. You just couldn’t help it and he could feel you tense and your heart pound against his chest.

“About what a weirdo you are..”

[gumified]

hate sex with toji fushiguro

content: fem!reader, mean!toji, big dick!toji, degradation, dirty talk, fingering, overstimulation

note: no clue why but tumblr hates me and won't let me add images so i don't have any dividers TT

//

arguments are annoying. arguments with toji, however, are more than annoying. they’re a living nightmare. the guy’s already an asshole and add the fact he has the ego the size of an elephant, he became unbearable. the two of you got into arguments often because you hate each other's guts and every single time he had to ensure that he was in the right and you weren’t. not to mention that the two of you were roommates and you were expected to go home everyday to face him.

the argument this time was stupid and dumb in every possible way. you were angry about him leaving his clothes everywhere and he got mad at you for being a ‘nagging witch’ as he called you. the shouting then started and you were sure the neighbours were very tired at the constant screaming that came from your apartment.

one minute you’re shouting at each other and the next you’re lunging at each other and ripping your clothes off. the intensity of the moment overtakes any sense of rationality. your lips collide with his and he hungrily mashes his face against yours. toji’s hands roughly rip your blouse apart, groaning when he catches sight of the red lacy bralette you have on. you push him against the wall, your lips never leaving his, and he responds with a ferocity that matches your own. his hands are everywhere, exploring every inch of your body, igniting a fire that consumes you both. toji’s fingers are tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his mouth moves feverishly against yours. your own hands are not idle, tearing at his shirt, exposing the sculpted muscles beneath.

“like what you see, fushiguro?” 

“fucking love it.” he growls, tugging your jeans off and pushing you down on the couch. he lifts his shirt over his torso and you marvel at his muscular body. everything about him is so seductive and you feel your panties grow wet, sticking to your folds. his breath is hot against your neck as he trails rough kisses down to your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine. you gasp, your nails digging into his back, earning a low growl from him that reverberates through your entire body. “gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

you scoff as he climbs on top of you. “yeah right.”

“don’t believe me doll?” toji’s voice is deep and husky, each word dripping with lust. his fingers press to your core making you squirm. he knows exactly the right buttons to push to make you unravel into a pile of moans beneath him but you refuse to please him with your noises, keeping quiet. “why’re you keeping silent angel?”

you don’t answer and it angers him even more. toji shoves his fingers into you and you bite your lip hard. he smirks, thrusting his digits in and out of you, making it harder for you to keep everything in. your pussy’s growing wetter as the lewd sounds fill your ears and you lift your hips for him to reach deeper. each time he thrusts them in you feel more drawn into the pool of desire that he's creating, the one that sucks you in and never lets you go.

a blissful feeling shoots through your body and a moan finally slips past your lips when he curls his fingers. toji grins, satisfied with the way you wriggle around. he scissors you open, fingers stretching out your tight core and each time he does you squirm against his grasp.

"that's it." he says, kissing your neck. "that's it baby, moan for me doll, such a filthy slut, you’re dripping all over my fingers." he leaves marks and you feel him suck at your neck, lightly nipping the flesh. you're more than happy to let him and you lean your head back, giving him a bigger canvas to litter his dark purple paint. 

your orgasm is fast approaching and you can't say anything before his fingers are ripped away from you and he replaces it with his cock. toji slams down on you, the tip of his cock reaching your cervix and you scream. he’s so so big and you aren’t given any time to adjust to his sheer size as he starts fucking you with carnal desire. you let out a strangled sob, clawing at his back, nails digging into his taut muscles.

"f-fuck you." you pant, hands gripping his biceps to stop you from sliding up and down from the force of his thrusts. "you're an asshole fushiguro."

toji groans, sweat dripping down his forehead, continuing to pound into you. "and you're a brat."

curses leave both of your mouths, sometimes directed at each other or sometimes directed at the pleasure both of you are feeling. either way, you're feeling like you're riding a euphoric train straight to heaven, not that you'll ever tell toji that. his low grunts make you whine as you call his name repeatedly. his cock feels so good around you, throbbing around your walls as you suck him in. 

there's something about the way his hair falls into his eyes that makes your hands reach to knot them into his dark locks. toji hisses at the slight pain but he doesn't stop instead he goes faster. everything about toji fushiguro makes you go crazy and with his cock thrusting in you with no mercy, it only increases your frenzy.

"shit, hnghh, don't do that fushiguro." you moan when he hits a particular spot inside you which makes your body jolt. toji smirks and he positions his hips, slamming into the exact place again. he smiles innocently at you.

"what, this?”

"yes! o-oh my god…yes yes yes, toji r-right there!" you shout, feeling your whole body tingling with your release coming soon. "fuck!"

it comes so quickly and you feel yourself drowning in your orgasm, the way the feeling overtakes your body. there's a sharp sensation that slowly spreads across your body and you bask in the feeling of having your release. it doesn't last long because toji's still pounding into you, a low animalistic growl leaves his throat.

"who told you that you could cum?" you gulp, realising what you’ve just done. his eyes darken and he fucks you harder, hips snapping to yours. “fucking whore, you never listen do you? can’t ever be an obedient little girl f’me, fucking pain in the ass.”

your cum leaks out of you and his cock makes your pussy a mess. you're still super sensitive and at the rate that he's thrusting into you, you're going to cum again. toji moans as he pounds into you, throwing his head back and his hands squeeze your ass. you sob at the overstimulation, tears escaping your eyes as you whine and whimper under toji.

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry toji- just felt so good, ‘m sorryyy.” your incessant babbles echo through your apartment as you feel your mind blank as his cock bullies into your pussy.

"yeah? you should be sorry slut, always fuckin’ nagging, need to fill you with my cum so you keep quiet." 

you whine feeling your body grow hotter under his touch. you feel yourself nearing your second orgasm and you know toji's close too by the way his thrusts are even quicker. a series of moans leave both of your lips and you feel his cock twitch inside of you before his load is dumped. warm cum spreads throughout your pussy, coating every inch of your gummy walls and you feel yourself overflow with cum. your orgasm wracks through your body too, this one more powerful than the other and you find yourself crying out his name, chanting it like a mantra.

the feeling's all too much and toji collapses into you making sure not to squeeze you too hard. you can feel every abdominal muscle through skin to skin contact. his breath fans across your neck, hot and ragged. you run your fingers through his hair, feeling the damp strands against your fingertips.

"you know what this means y/n?" you look at him confused and he smirks. "means i can finally fuck you in that bathroom."

[dadsbongos]

possessed by the thought of laios fucking half-foot reader 626 words, pure smut (hinted you're fuckin in da dungeon) ~~~

You hate tall-men. Tall-men are gross and impolite and throw their weight with little regard for others. You especially hate adventurer type tall-men. Their need for exploration usually sours their personality further; tall-men adventurers are inconsiderate and belligerent towards you and your fellow half-foots.

Except for Laios.

You love Laios.

“I don’t know if it’ll fit…” 

Laios is tender, and kind.

“You can make it fit, Laios. I can take you.”

Laios knows how to work what he has.

Laios can keep his cool, feeding you the fat tip of his cock with care to avoid tearing you open. He sighs, huffing at the squeeze and suck of your slick cunt. He curls an arm around your waist, palming your chest, binding you against him. 

Once he’s managed a solid inch inside you, Laios uses his spare hand to grab your thigh and spread you open. Stretching your leg over his bent one, sweat clinging sweat and Laios’ soft lips soothing your molten face. 

“You’re so wet,” he smushes his cheek against yours, gold eyes searing down to where he’s slowly stuffing you, “Does it turn you on? That I’m too big? You like that?”

You grind down onto him with a soft whine as if to answer the question physically (a terrible idea when its Laios you’re fucking). He goes to repeat himself so you turn your face into his neck and suck rosy welts along his skin. Yanking groans from under his breath; hips jerking into yours barely faster. Even his cautious thrusts jostle your smaller body, and when concern burdens his arousal Laios wets his fingers to circle your clit.

Strong arms constrict your instinctual humping and snapping, thick with muscle and soft with flaxen hairs. You could probably describe the entirety of Laios that way: thick. In the most mouth-watering way, he’s meaty and broad and so much fucking bigger than you. When you imagine a man, you’re slowly finding that Laios is the only one to come to mind.

And he’s splitting you open so sweetly.

Wriggling a hand free, you press on the electric spot Laios is battering from the inside. Added pressure making you squeal and whimper into his neck. 

“Can you feel me right there?” Laios strays the hand not strumming your clit to cover yours on your stomach, you can hear his breath hitch when the pudge of his cock meets his fingertips, “Oh, you can. I’m way too big,” he swallows harshly, drilling into you faster despite his words, “You like that?”

“Fuck yes, hah,” you reach back to dig you nails into his shoulder, gasping and shuddering as Laios tugs your hips to burrow somehow deeper in your gut. Heavy and warm, he’ll burn you from the inside out and the sickest part is that you’d beg him for it, “You too, right?” you have to strangle out a yelp, “Laios, Laios! You like it, right?”

“Uh-huh,” he rolls you easily so you’re on top of him, lifting and slamming you on his cock to study the way your twitchy cunt clings. Cheeks tinted rouge and mouth agape, “So warm and snug- love it- love- !”

You silence him with your mouth on his. If he bothers to ask, you’ll blame it on wanting to muffle your crashing orgasm by wailing his own name against his lips. There’s no way you look a man so lovely in his eyes and say you just don’t want him gasping out a love confession with your party in the other room.

After all, Chilchuck’s heightened hearing catching you fuck the party leader is one thing, but to have him pestering you about falling in love with the guy is too much.