#the way i would be cured from all my problems....
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radical-revolution · 3 days ago
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In Memory
After I got the call that Ram Dass had died yesterday, I closed my eyes.
He is still here.
I could feel the vast field of love that was shining from Ram Dass when Trudy and I taught with him just a couple of weeks ago. And I always will.
On the final day of this last retreat, called “Open Your Heart in Paradise,” Ram Dass was frail and didn’t have access to many words. But he was there in the most powerful way. He swam delightedly with the group in the ocean, chanting “Oh Joy, Oh Joy.”
And on the retreat’s last morning, he put his hands on a basket of 350 wrist malas, each tied with a thread of his guru’s blanket, to tenderly bless them. Then, as participants came by slowly to receive their malas, he silently looked into each face, offering to all what is sometimes called “the glance of mercy,” a gaze so full of love that it left many of us speechless and weeping, drunk with blessing.
I have known Ram Dass for 48 years, as master teacher and inspiration and role model, as a dear friend and benefactor who helped me begin to teach, as a companion on the path, as a truth teller and prankster, as a profound healer and whisperer of souls, as a kind of prophet for a generation. Out in public with him across the years, over and over people would come up to him and speak lovingly, tentatively, urgently, offering thanks, “Ram Dass, I just want to let you know you changed my life!” And he did… for so many of us.
Yes, his book “Be Here Now” changed countless lives. Yes, his work with Seva Foundation cured 5 million people of blindness. Yes, he taught almost nonstop for 50 years, spreading wisdom and humor, wild devotion and love and a vast timeless mystical perspective across the world. His obituaries will be filled with his many other accomplishments.
For me he is family and Sangha, even now still spreading his playful, tough, delicious love everywhere, connecting with our hearts. “Yum, yum,” as he would say.
He was so ready to leave the wheelchair and skinny and broken body, to go home.
Home is not somewhere else.
It is here, in life and death, in the eternal dance of consciousness, weaving together form and the formless mystery from which it all comes.
Ram Dass is the vastness reminding us that in the end, there is only love.
~ Jack Kornfield, two years ago🙏
Be Here Now
Please read aloud, pause in-between, and listen to the poetic heart-words of a Great Teacher...a Beloved Guru, and a true inspiration for so many of us throughout this life.
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We're fascinated by the words--but where we meet is in the silence behind them.
The quieter you become, the more you can hear.
It is important to expect nothing, to take every experience, including the negative ones, as merely steps on the path, and to proceed.
The most exquisite paradox… as soon as you give it all up, you can have it all. As long as you want power, you can't have it. The minute you don't want power, you'll have more than you ever dreamed possible.
I would like my life to be a statement of love and compassion - and where it isn't, that's where my work lies.
In most of our human relationships, we spend much of our time reassuring one another that our costumes of identity are on straight.
The heart surrenders everything to the moment. The mind judges and holds back.
Your problem is you are too busy holding on to your unworthiness.
As long as you have certain desires about how it ought to be you can't see how it is.
Treat everyone you meet like God in drag.
The most important aspect of love is not in giving or the receiving: it's in the being. When I need love from others, or need to give love to others, I'm caught in an unstable situation. Being in love, rather than giving or taking love, is the only thing that provides stability. Being in love means seeing the Beloved all around me.
Suffering is part of our training program for becoming wise.
What you meet in another being is the projection of your own level of evolution.
The spiritual journey is individual, highly personal. It can't be organized or regulated. It isn't true that everyone should follow one path. Listen to your own truth.
Let's trade in all our judging for appreciating. Let's lay down our righteousness and just be together.
Only that in you which is me can hear what I'm saying.
Everything changes once we identify with being the witness to the story, instead of the actor in it.
We are all affecting the world every moment, whether we mean to or not. Our actions and states of mind matter, because we are so deeply interconnected with one another.
A feeling of aversion or attachment toward something is your clue that there's work to be done.
The next message you need is always right where you are.
I would say that the thrust of my life has been initially about getting free, and then realizing that my freedom is not independent of everybody else. Then I am arriving at that circle where one works on oneself as a gift to other people so that one doesn't create more suffering. I help people as a work on myself and I work on myself to help people.
I'm not interested in being a "lover." I'm interested in only being love.
The game is not about becoming somebody, it's about becoming nobody.
Learn to watch your drama unfold while at the same time knowing you are more than your drama.
If you think you're free, there's no escape possible.
Every religion is the product of the conceptual mind attempting to describe the mystery.
It's only when caterpillarness is done that one becomes a butterfly. That again is part of this paradox. You cannot rip away caterpillarness. The whole trip occurs in an unfolding process of which we have no control.
We're here to awaken from the illusion of separateness
We're all just walking each other home.
~ Ram Dass now, just as before,
at home with Divinity
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ink-stainedkiss · 1 day ago
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This isn't necessarily a request (unless you like the idea😍) but i am WEAK for saiki kusuo being happy and laughing, as ooc as it sounds IDC HES MY BABY AND HES HUMAN THEREOFRE I CONCLUDE THIS BOY CAN HAVE HIS DAILY DOSE OF GIGGLES.
Like, i read the fic you made on saiki finding readers thoughts funny, and i BAJDJSJAJDBS I SQUEALED.
Just imagining him breaking character, or AUDIBLY laughing, is so so sweet bro im not even joking. He'd only ever be comfortable doing it infront of his mom probably, or his close friends. EVEN SO.
Just needed to get it off my chest. 🙂 if you ever make more fics with happy/giggly saiki i might actually marry you. 🙂🙂🙂
This one goes specifically to you queen😍 and No. I’m going to marry you🫵😼
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Missing You
Synopsis: Saiki starts to feel a bit weird when you are out and he realizes he misses you. Now to find a way to get you home faster…
Merry Christmas for those who celebrate! I hope you all had a great time because I sure did. Sorry my activity has been a little slow these past days have been busier than expected, so this one’s going to be a bit short. Also thank you all for the likes on my later posts! It feels so amazing to see you guys enjoying my other works. Anyways, please enjoy this tooth-rotting fluff of our beloved Saiki💕
“You on the phone”
“Saiki on the phone”
*Saiki is wearing his telepathy blocking ring in this, so he's speaking normally*
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.2k
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Everyone knew that Saiki was not a dependent person. He was the furthest thing from it. He loved his alone time- actually scratch that. He craved alone time. It was just his luck that he was always surrounded by people that caused him so much mental pain. To Saiki’s surprise, he had found someone he tolerated. Well it was more than that, but you guys were just friends, so he couldn’t say anything. He realized you were the only one that didn’t put Saiki through a problem which he had to solve. There were no long adventures when you talked to him in the halls. No using his powers to fix something you had done. He was able to act perfectly normal around you. Which is why he grew such an affection toward you. He grew so comfortable that he told you about his abilities and like he expected you took it well.
Today was one of his favorite days. Where he was able to hang around your home without a care in the world. Whatever his friends were up to outside of your house was not Saiki’s business, nor did he care about it. He had developed a routine when you text him to come over. He would arrive at your house, wear his germanium ring and let his worries wash away. It was the closest thing he could get to being a normal teenager and he was damn sure going to use his time wisely. Whenever Saiki stayed at your home, you would ask to do something, nothing crazy. Something simple like baking a batch of cookies, watching a movie on the couch, or if you were very bored, you would ask to do Saiki’s hair, which he never denied. Because, well, it was you. How could he say no?
Today was a bit different. You had mentioned you needed to run some errands and you promised you would back around noon. Saiki was fine with this since it meant he would have the house to himself. You trusted him greatly so you didn’t mind if he stuck around while you were out. When you left he gave a small nod and then the house was silent. Today was very different because something felt off. He had been reading a book on your shelf out of interest, but for the past five minutes, he had been rereading the same sentence over and over. Something was tugging in his head, but he wasn’t sure what was wrong.
Today was different because he felt so off without you in the same room as him. He checked the clock, realizing I had only been an hour and a half since you left. You wouldn’t be back until later, so Saiki had to find something to distract himself. Today was different because tried to cure his “boredom” with his powers. He turned on your kitchen sink, watching blankly as he made shapes and animals out of the liquid. When that didn’t stop the tugging, he moved onto your room. He felt slightly better resting on your bed and he played it off as being tired, but no. When he kept checking the clock to see if it was any closer to noon, he came to the horrifying conclusion that he missed you.
It was such a foreign feeling. Saiki? Wanting someone to be around him? Well that’s what happens when you sneak your way into his heart. The psychic couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed his phone, clicking on your contact and placing the device to his ear. The small buzzing reached his ear and he felt a small fragment of relief when you answered after the second ring.
“Hey Saiki, what’s up?”
He sighed, a bit humiliated he felt this way.
“Nothing.”
“Then did you need something?”
“When are you going to be home?”
He said home like he lived here with you, but if you minded, you didn’t make it obvious.
“I should be there in maybe three hours.”
That did not help.
“Can you get here sooner?”
“Why? Is something wrong?”
“Yes.”
Might as well since there isn’t anything else getting you here faster. Saiki thought.
A small gasp sounded through the speaker, “I thought you said nothing was happening?”
“Just get here fast.”
And with that he hung up the phone.
You raced to your house, hoping you wouldn’t find it in ashes or hit by a tornado. Maybe you were being dramatic, but why would Saiki call you and tell you to come home quickly? It was shocking that you didn’t get pulled over at the pace you were driving home. When you pulled onto your street, you were thankful to not see any smoke, but that didn’t make you slow down. You slammed to a stop in your driveway, panic flooding your veins. You unlocked your door at lightning speed and the second it was open, you called out,”I’m here! What happened?!”
You shut the door behind you, scanning for some sort of danger, but you find your house was still intact. You were so confused. You were expecting some sort of freak accident with Saiki’s powers, but everything was in place.
“Nothing wrong.”
You whipped around, finding Saiki had teleported behind you. You blinked in confusion,”What are you talking about? You told me to get here quick and I-“ “I lied.” Your arms dropped at your side in defeat,”Then why am I here right now?” He gave you an emotionless stare,”Because I wanted you to be.”
Still in shock, you looked around, finding a scattered book on your couch. It was odd because Saiki is always the one to be neat. You turned to the boy, noticing how he was hardly making eye contact with you and he clearly wanted to say more. You recalled his words over the phone, then it all clicked.
“Saiki,” your words were barely above a whisper,”Did you miss me?”
The things that happened next were a blur. In the blink of an eye two arms were wrapping around you and you could feel Saiki’s head in the crook of your neck. He didn’t respond to your question, but this was enough to answer it. Honestly, you were a bit nervous. Was this really the same Saiki? The one who barely let people stand close to him, was holding onto you like a lifeline. You felt a long sigh escape his lips and instinctively you reached one hand up to rest in his pink hair and the other embracing him over his shoulder.
“I didn’t know how else to get you here.” He confessed gently, making your heart melt,”You could have just asked, Kusuo.” He tucked himself more into your neck, almost hiding his face from you,”But you were busy.” You rolled your eyes, “It was just getting groceries, I would have dropped everything if I knew you wanted me here.”
Saiki didn’t know how to respond, instead he used his teleportation to take you both to your room. You let out a grunt as you back hit your mattress, but your attention changed to the boy resting on you. He looked so at peace and you couldn’t believe this was still the same person. (It’s not like you were complaining.) As you softly played with his pink hair, a small idea popped into your head. Maybe I should go out more often if this is what I get to come home too…
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pouletaulait · 2 days ago
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I don’t mind the conversation either. I always enjoy having a discussion with people who have a different point of view and who are open to having a discussion, like you are, so I appreciate your reaction. My reblogg wasn’t intended as criticism, not at all. I just wanted to point out that personally I can’t quite see why this story would be distorted into something it’s not intended to be if we approach it under a romantic lens. Like I said, personally I think it’s intended to be a romance, albeit not a banal or a „simple“ one but you’re absolutely free to disagree. I understand realism as a fictional portrayal that’s intended to be realistic, in the sense that it attempts to portray a situation in a fashion that stays as close to a possible reality as possible and in which the author seeks to represent this portrayal in an objective manner. A romance, in this context, I understand to be an unrealistic, idealised portrayal of love/a relationship. (Do our understandings differ on this?) But like you pointed out in your original post (if I understand you correctly) what we deem realistic or unrealistic is ultimately influenced by our subjective perception of reality, which might explain why our opinions on this differ. It seems like I didn’t explain my view very clearly; There are many aspects of the manga that I do find realistic in it’s portrayal, such as the CSA, what I don’t find realistic, however, is the portrayal of love, the romance. I find it very idealised and romanticised for the most part (i.e the falling in love at first sight (I’ll get to that), Doumeki being Yashiro’s exact type, Doumeki happens to be impotent which allows Yashiro to develop feelings for him, the fact that Doumeki is completely accepting of everything Yashiro does regardless of how Yashiro treats him, the fact that Doumeki is still in love with Yashiro after he shot him the leg, maybe he even stayed in the Yakuza world just to be near him (although who knows why exactly he did that?) Idk maybe it’s just me but I find it very unrealistic. It’s this romantic idea of „there is this perfect person out there who accepts you just the way you are and you don’t have to do anything to keep them happy, you can even shoot them in the leg and they’ll still love you, they’ll stick around no matter what it takes to be with you“. Idk, to me personally this doesn’t seem like the author seeks to portray a realistic relationship here and to me that’s what it boils down to when I’m saying that to me it reads like a romance (of course this is just my opinion, I don’t know anything about Sensei’s actual intentions)
What I meant by „she’s toying with the idea of idealized romance“ is the fact that most, but not everything ,about the romantic aspect is idealised, hence my example that Doumeki’s love doesn’t cure Yashiro’s trauma. Maybe „toying“ is not the most accurate expression to use in English in this case… but what I mean is that Sensei is ,like I said, employing many aspects of an idealised love, imo, but that she doesn’t fully „commit“ to it if you know what I mean; the way I see it she’s building it up to be this fantasy, this ideal of almighty love, but then she defies our expectation by creating a climax (Chapters 23-25) that’s the opposite of what you’d expect from a romance; instead of Doumeki’s love being the answer to all of Yashiro’s problems and them ending up together, it ends in a disaster (in the sense that Doumeki ends up hurting Yashiro deeply and that they part ways). So, I think she’s taking a more realistic approach in that sense but I think the story remains anchored in the idea of the ideal romance, because that seems to be its point of reference imo. If there was no idealised romance at the core of it (which to me seems evident in the exposition) there’d be no expectation to defy in the first place if you get what I’m saying. I hope I explained this in a somewhat understandable way… but maybe this is not making any sense to you since you seem to have a very different opinion on Yashiro’s feelings. Just to clarify: You don’t think he’s in love with Doumeki? Or do you think he doesn’t want to be in a committed relationship with him, or something else entirely? The way I see it, there certainly was an instant attraction to Doumeki on Yashiro’s side. I guess you could argue that it wasn’t „love“ but just sexual attraction, that’s certainly debatable, but the way I see it, he at least started developing feelings for Doumeki very quickly, hence his interference with Doumeki’s sister, his jealousy, etc. so, yes, the „falling in love at first sight“ part comes down to interpretation but personally I find it likely and my assumption is that he wants to be in a committed relationship with Doumeki (that’s purely my assumption based on my interpretation which obviously heavily influenced by the fact that I understand this to be a romance) Anyways, what I meant by problematic: If I’d look at this story as a entirely realistic portrayal of a relationship or love, I’d find a lot of aspects of it very problematic (how Doumeki is completely devoting himself to Yashiro, how he’s basically stalking him, how he keeps going after Yashiro despite him shooting him in the leg, etc.) That’s what I meant by I wouldn’t root for them to end up together if I’d look at this as a realistic portrayal. It wouldn’t be an irredeemable situation for me either but it’s just nothing that I’d be interested in reading, that’s my personal preference. I’m not opposed to realism in general but, like I said, in this specific case, it doesn’t make sense to me personally. Honestly, I don’t think our opinions on this are entirely different because I agree that Kou Yoneda sensei appears to be taking a quite realistic approach in many respects. I think where our opinions differ seems to me to be the point that you seem to regard this as a work of realism, while I think of it as a romance that challenges romantic ideals in some ways but that ultimately stays anchored in an idealised romanticism. But like I said I think I’ll only know for sure once the story’s been told in its entirety.
An example of novel that follows the literary realism tradition but is sometimes approached under romantic lens, and therefore distorted into something else entirely - maybe because of the (bad) movies adaptations? because of the marketing and the covers? I don’t know but I will link this no longer rebloggable post for you to check - is Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov.
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I read Lolita when I was seventeen, felt deeply discomforted but I liked the book, understood what it was doing with its narrator, but I have to add, before reading Lolita, I had already read Flaubert (Sentimental Education, didn’t finish Madame Bovary) and Émile Zola to name a few. I think that growing up I have read more books in this genre than others? I don’t know considering that back then I had to read a lot classics for school.
But long story short, I think something similar maybe it’s occurring with Saezuru. To be clear, I am not saying that you have to read it in a certain way, please I don’t really want to even imply that. Read it for yourself and your pleasure first. What I am saying is that, like Lolita, to me Saezuru makes total sense if we assume that it is written with a realistic intention and therefore not exactly bound by the rules of romantic novels that tend to present more positive and idealized views. After all manga are divided into demographics more than their genre, so authors draw very different stories. I still want these characters to find happiness! But I also want to be able to buy the eventual resolution and therefore I appreciate that the development of the story feels organic.
Anyway just a thought. Nakobov himself wrote (in Strong Opinions):
Reality is a very subjective affair. I can only define it as a kind of gradual accumulation of information; and as specialization. If we take a lily, for instance, or any other kind of natural object, a lily is more real to a naturalist than it is to an ordinary person. But it is still more real to a botanist. And yet another stage of reality is reached with that botanist who is a specialist in lilies. You can get nearer and nearer, so to speak, to reality; but you never get near enough because reality is an infinite succession of steps, levels of perception, false bottoms, and hence unquenchable, unattainable. You can know more and more about one thing but you can never know everything about one thing: it’s hopeless. So that we live surrounded by more or less ghostly objects— that machine, there, for instance. It’s a complete ghost to me— I don’t understand a thing about it and, well, it’s a mystery to me, as much of a mystery as it would be to Lord Byron.
As for marketing, if you check the link and think about Saezuru: the covers and merchandise vs the content of the chapters, vs the story as it’s told, the parallel with Lolita makes sense to me. The cover only has one imperative: to sell. But once you are alone with the story, you see that stylistic choices, tone, everything suggest that you read it in a critical way.
The way Yoneda Kou draws is also quite sober, discarding decorative details and paying attention more to frame and pov. The way she presents what happens is objective and detached, neutral I’d say, making us impartial observers most of the time, letting the actions speak without commentary being made. The dialogue is hard for our translators because it recreates the speech patterns of the various characters faithfully. And these characters are common yakuza that live harsh realities, the gritty social aspect of it is visible and part of the story, as well as social injustices and personal trauma, and keen and realistic attention to human behavior.
I guess all this clued me in to reading the story the way I do, and probably also why I chose it in the first place. Realism is the genre of fiction I am more read in, although I am expanding my horizons more and more.
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toomanywordsnllines · 2 years ago
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Thi-thinking about Ghost being flexible and being able to do splits... With no effort... and hand stands...Im thinking about it...Again
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wikitpowers · 7 months ago
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me with herongraystairs:
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neon-sunsets · 1 month ago
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okay. let’s talk about jayce’s monologue, since people are calling him ableist.
for context, not that it matters: I have a significant mobility disability and a progressive chronic illness which, even when managed, can kill me. I’m not in exactly the same boat as viktor since my disease isn’t terminal, but I’ve had very similar experiences to him. this shapes my perception of him and of this storyline.
this is the monologue:
You’ve always wanted to cure what you thought were weaknesses. Your leg. Your disease. But you were never broken, Viktor. There’s beauty in imperfections. They made you what you are. An inseparable piece of everything I admired about you.
first, it should be noted that “what you thought were weaknesses” is not the same thing as “things that are good.” jayce is not saying that viktor’s disease is or was a good thing. what he is saying is that he admired (loved) everything that viktor was, which included the things viktor thought made him a burden or a problem. remember also that jayce almost doomed the world because he couldn’t let viktor die; he would never imply that viktor dying was a good thing.
the next question, then, is whether viktor sees himself as a burden or not. I think it’s implied that he does — it’s certainly not unrealistic to think that viktor might have come to view himself, or at least his disease, as a burden and a flaw. disabled people often view ourselves that way either because of internalized ableism or because society constantly tells us that we’re burdens and that our bodies are abnormal and wrong. viktor displays behaviors that indicate internalized ableism, including hiding the fact that he’s coughing up blood from jayce the first few times it happens and generally refusing to be in the public eye in a way that is self-effacing and not just him being private. yes, he says in act 1 of season 1 that he believes in himself, but he does also call himself a cripple in a dismissive way in that same scene; also, he doesn’t have the disease at that point. arguably the entire scene where he runs despite clearly being in pain is an example of his internalized ableism, but that’s another post.
more evidence for viktor’s perception of himself being negative is that he clearly has a sense that he doesn’t deserve to be loved (specifically by jayce, but maybe also in general). we see this when he asks jayce why he’s still persisting in saving him. we see this with his generally self-effacing behavior. we see this with the fact that in all of season 1, the only person he allows to touch him is jayce, and that the only person he actively touches in the entire show is jayce. viktor is reserved and not good with his emotions, which is a huge part of his arc this season. all of these behaviors point to him having a negative self-perception.
I think it’s important to really consider how jayce perceives viktor and how viktor perceives himself. I don’t think this season handled everything perfectly, but I think they handled this very well. viktor has been written with a fullness and complexity that most disabled characters don’t ever get. him being morally grey doesn’t mean he’s “problematic” or “bad representation.” obviously I’m only one disabled person, but I really love jayce and viktor and I think their story is beautifully written.
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profound-bouquetbird · 2 months ago
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i would absolutely ADORE some daisuke smut. i feel as if he'd have a praise kink...
Guess I'm writing smut now 🤷
These headcanons are mostly gender neutral but since I'm a girl its written from a female perspective, if one of you request these headcanons with a male s/o it's no big deal! I'll write it :)
Also, I will be following a nsfw alphabet list but in a crappy order 👍
Also, I did use a picture instead of a gif, sue me.
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❥ Starting off with the headcanon you already mentioned: I do believe Daisuke has some sort of praise kink. He would love to get praised for doing the simplest of things, but he doesn't get a hard on every time you praise him, only if it's in a dirty context ☝️
❥ It will take a bit to get this man going. If you decide to drop subtle hints, he will get it but will ultimately think it is all in his head, so you have to be a bit straight forward most of the time. Example:
"Gosh... My head hurts." Daisuke complained, taking a seat next to you on the couch. A bright idea suddenly enters your mind as you smirk to yourself, turning to your boyfriend, Daisuke, with a suggestive look.
"I know what can cure a headache..." You stated, resting your head on his shoulder with a wide smirk. Daisuke stares at you for a moment, as if to process your words.
"... You'll grab me a painkiller?" He said after a couple moments of silence. That ultimately killed your mood as you let out a loud sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in exhaustion.
❥ Yeah... be a bit more straight forward.
❥ As for the top or bottom dilemma, he'd be a switch leaning bottom. Why leaning bottom, you may ask? It just feels right.
❥ He can be a top if asked, but he'll still require huge amounts of praise and reassurance to make sure he's doing a good job. He prefers to have you on top so that he can feel of use, since you're the one that knows your body the best. But he does have occasional bursts of dominance where he is actually being a soft dom. Also yes, if he were to be a top he'd be a soft dom., argue w the wall.
❥ He is vocal in bed, and when I say vocal, I mean it. If he's not moaning and groaning, he's babbling nonsense into your ear. It doesn't even have to be sexy 😭. He would just be whining about work or a hard video game level while he pounds into you or when you're riding him.
"Swansea was... mhn- so rude today." Daisuke panted, gripping onto your hips tightly as you bounced up and down.
"Tell me more, Hon." You moaned above, quickening your pace as you rested your hands on his chest. He let out a couple of groans and moans before continuing to whine about how bad his day was.
❥ As for his favorite position? Doggy. He's a simple man. Hitting it from the back and pressing up against you from above while biting onto your shoulder to suppress his moans? What more could a man want.
❥ Even though he's not often in that position, it's still one of his favorites. He probably suggested to do positions you haven't done before just to see if they feel good or bad for you two. As I mentioned, he's eager to please and wants what makes you feel best.
❥ Stamina? Average. He could go two to three rounds without a problem, but after the third he'll feel overstimulated and tired. If you're still energetic and want more, he'll eat you out/suck you off until you're satisfied.
❥ What about aftercare? The king of aftercare... in his own special way. He would continuously ask you what you need, what you want, what he should do, is he hurting you? He's sorry if he is. Meanwhile you're lying there, barely able to comprehend his words from how fast he is speaking. After a while you two eventually get into a routine and he doesn't bombard you with questions as often.
❥ What about experience? He has had a couple of girlfriends before he met you, but it only led to make out sessions, nothing more. Unless you count his own hand as experience, I wouldn't put him very high on the list.
❥ What about how they are in the moment? Serious or silly? I'd say he leans towards silly more, but he can be serious when the time calls for it. As I mentioned previously, he rants about dumb stuff and on a couple occasions you had to stop what you were doing to laugh.
❥ As for where you two have sex, it mostly stays in the bedroom. If you're on the ship, it definitely stays in the bedroom. But when you're on land/in the comfort of your own home? No surface is safe if he's horny enough.
❥ As for his kinks, he doesn't have many. As I mentioned, praise in one, but on the list also falls blindfold sex, gagging, maybe spanking, and maybe a bit of hair pulling (both his and yours).
❥ Oral? He doesn't love it, nor does he hate it. As much as he wants to please you, he prefers getting head than giving. Don't get him wrong! He enjoys giving you head too, but even he has to be selfish sometimes. He'll ask for head in the most random times too, mostly because he's messing around. But if you accept? He was serious all along! I don't know why you would think otherwise 😁.
You were just sitting in the lounge area, already being done with your chores for the day and just waiting to be given a task. Though, your boyfriend, Daisuke, also seemed to be done with his tasks, taking a seat next to you in silence.
That silence was soon broken as Daisuke leaned into your ear with a shit eating grin.
"Wanna give me head?" He asked quietly, setting back down. He just wanted to fluster you because captain Curly was also in the room. You looked back at him, completely unphased as you shrugged
"Sure." That took him by surprise, his own face turning pink instead of yours as he looked around sheepishly. He quickly, yet gently grabbed your wrist before pulling you into a more secluded area.
❥ This man is a roller-coaster when it comes to that type of stuff. He would tease you to no end, but when you actually tease back? How could you! Now he's all red and flustered >:(
❥ He's awful when it comes to taking care of himself down there. It's not like he has a jungle, but his hair is just cut weirdly, and he doesn't know how to take care of certain parts. If you offer to help him, he'll be embarrassed as hell and would initially refuse, but after a bit of convincing he would cave.
❥ He has stolen your underwear at least once to see if it gets him going, which it kind of does but he is overwhelmed with embarrassment and overall feels bad. If you're a woman, he would grab a bra to recreate those videos you see on TikTok of men pretending to be flies, He even tries to put it on for a bit.
❥ As for his pace, it again really depends. Though he can get off by being slow, he does need a bit more roughness in order to finish off properly. Not full on pounding into you until your legs go numb, bit just enough (if you suggest the prior, he wouldn't be totally opposed, but you'll have to reassure him a shit ton during it and after).
❥ He thinks extreme dirty talk is cringe, change my mind. This man cannot take you nor himself seriously while trying to talk dirty like in the movies.
"Oh- yeah? You like that? You li-" Daisuke cut himself off with a loud wheeze, immediately stopping with his thrusting as he covered his mouth to laugh to himself.
"Don't laugh-" You tried to scold, but ultimately caved and began laughing as well.
"I can't- 'm sorry--" He wheezed once more, being overwhelmed by embarrassment at his words.
---
Thats all folks!
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Text
Yuu is Loopy and Doesn't Recognize Them
Based of this meme I saw and I couldn't get it out of my head
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GN. Yuu isn’t drunk but is loopy on potions/meds. A bit Suggestive??? Leona calls you Scavenger/Pillow Enjoy
Riddle 
Riddle swore that when he sees Ace again, it will be off with his head. The brain dead idiot is responsible for landing you in the nurse's office. Thankfully, according to Professor Crewel, you will be okay and were ready to go back to Ramshackle. 
Being the responsible boyfriend he is, he made sure to take your arm and guide you through the mirror to Ramshackle and into the creaky dorm. You were obviously still a bit out of it as you stumbled through the hall and didn’t appear to hear anything he said. As he approached the stairs, wondering how he would get you into your room did you speak.
“Where are we going?” You slurred rubbing your temples with your fingers. “To your room,” Riddle answered. “Rose, can you hear me now?” Riddle asked, voice tinged with worry. “Why are we going…” you paused trying to formulate words, “…to some room?” Riddle raised a brow and spoke slowly, relaxing his grip on your arm as he did so. “You need to get some rest, don’t worry I’ll make sure you sleep well, okay?"
To his confusion, you suddenly pulled away from him and stumbled back a little. “Ah, Rose what are you—“ “Sorry you seem really nice and all but I have a boyfriend.” “Huh?!” Stumbling backward away from Riddle you practically fell onto the couch behind you. “Sorry I’m not gonna sleep with anyone, I have a boyfriend…” You slurred again, making Riddle stiffen before going pink and letting out a chuckle. 
“Rose, I am your—“ “Goodnight” You whispered before promptly passing out on the couch. Riddle just stood there for a moment stupified, before softly chuckling to himself. You really did love him, huh?
Leona
“What's wrong with you?” Leona asked upon seeing Ruggie drag his seemingly blitzed-out partner behind them into his room. “I dunno what happened but Professor Crewel said to let them rest,” Ruggie responded. “So you brought them to me?” Ruggie’s face fell, he knew damn well if he were the one to take you home that Leona would have complained. “Well, they’re your problem now shishishi! Good luck”
Letting out a yawn, Leona looked over to where you stood wobbling. “Come here, Pillow.” The lion leaned up and pulled you toward the bed. You weakly tried to pull your hand away. “Eh? What gives?” Leona’s ears twitch as you stumble back. “My boyfriend will get upset if he sees you holding my hand. “Oh yeah?” The lion smirked.
“Yeah, and I’m not a cheater either so leave me alone.” You mutter, eyes fluttering as you fight off sleep. Leona pulls you closer to him easily. “I am your boyfriend.” The shocked expression that arises on your face is one he will never forget. “No way that's awesome!”
“Yeah yeah, get to bed, scavenger.” He smirks, pulling you into his arms. As you fade into unconsciousness, he watches over you. Just how did he get so lucky?
Azul
Azul didn’t know who he should be mad at: Jade for feeding you some mysterious mushroom concoction that he sure would have no side effects or you for actually agreeing to test out Jade’s new drink. Regardless you are now in the VIP room of Mostro Lounge as Azul goes through some of the potions he has on hand. 
Sitting on the VIP couch you watched as Azul kneeled beside you. The mer fussed over you as you seemingly stared through him. Despite his lips moving you couldn’t hear anything he said. “Um, Angelfish are you alright?” Azul asks nervously as your eyes bore a hole through him.
“You kinda look like… my boyfriend…” you slur. If he wasn’t worried sick, he would have actually found the situation humorous, dumbfounded he responded. “Well, what does he look like?” “He’s so beautiful, man.” You sigh.
Azul feels his cheeks heat up as he uncorks a curing potion, wondering how he’s going to get you to drink it. “Like… I love him so much… He’s so pretty and soft and I wanna hold him…” “… Come now love, try and drink this and then rest…” The mer stutters and holds the bottle to your lips. Thankfully, you downed it pretty easily and promptly fell asleep muttering about how much you loved your boyfriend the whole time. Azul’s face was several shades of blue.
Jamil
Vil ended up poisoning you pretty badly during his overblot, and Jamil has been worried sick, to say the least as he sits beside your bed in the nurse's office, impatiently waiting for you to wake up. As you begin to stir, all of Jamil’s attention snaps to you.
“Yuu?” He calls out, giving you a few moments to stir and wake up. You blink tiredly at him before sitting up and looking around. Jamil wanted to crush you into a hug and ask if you were alright but knew that it may overwhelm you.
“Are you alright?” He asks, taking your hands into his as the heart monitor continues to beep. You blink owlishly and look at your hands. “I have a boyfriend.” You say after a while. Jamil didn’t know if he should be annoyed or amused, but it did flatter him to know how loyal you are to him.
A mischievous glint appears in his eye. “I am your boyfriend.” Your eyes widen as the heart monitor picks up, beeping loudly as you smile. “I love you…” You slur, trying to lean into your lover's touch.
Vil
After a certain Shroud’s overblot, you were left hospitalized in a coma for a week. Vil was worried sick and visited you as much as he could, if he couldn't be there, Rook would watch over you for him. When he saw a text notification for Rook saying you were awake, he went to visit you immediately.
Rook didn’t have time to warn Vil about your condition as he walked in and immediately held your face, looking deep into your eyes before hugging you, body shaking as he held onto you. “You’re awake…” He says after a long pause.
You pull away from Vil, and the blond gets ready to scold you for your reckless behavior until he notices your expression. "I have… a boyfriend named Vil… sorry…" you babble before passing out again. Vil would make sure to scold you later
Idia
He was confused when he saw Ortho holding your hand and guiding you to his room. He didn't know how to explain it, but as he watched you through the camera feed something about your movements felt… off
Once Ortho dragged you into his room did he figure out what was wrong? "It's the side effect of their medication," Ortho said after explaining how you ended up in the nurse's room— why did they even discharge you in this state??
Idia groaned and started to clean off his bed to make room for you, before getting up and helping Ortho to guide you over to his bed. "Come on Yuu-shi the sooner you sleep the better." You didn't budge. Instead, you stared through him. Idia stared back awkwardly.
"You seem nice but I already have a boyfriend and I love him." Idia's hair flushed pink. "Eh? What did you say?" "I love my boyfriend and only him so I can't sleep with you…" 
You instead sit down slowly and lay on the floor, immediately falling asleep much to Ortho's confusion and Idia's embarrassment.
Malleus
"Oh dear, what happened to you?" Malleus asked as you stumbled up the path to Ramshackle. It was supposed to be your nightly walk together but you didn't look so good.
You didn't respond as you allowed Malleus to help guide you into Ramshackle and onto the couch. After a moment Malleus asks again, "Mind telling me what happened to you?"
"No worries, I happen to have a recovery spell I can use…" Malleus hums, preparing a spell. "You sound like my boyfriend…" Malleus chuckles. "Is that so Child of Man?" You lazily nod. "He's my most favorite person in the entire world…" you yawn, and Malleus can only admire you, lovestruck. 
"I don't think Jade made me the right tea…" you mutter as you lay down. Malleus makes sure to note that he would have to pay a visit to Jade later as he frets over you.
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earthtooz · 9 months ago
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ratio is jealous bc im weak to him being jealous om, gn!reader but they wear a dress, fluff !!
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“darling, this is a serious matter and i expect you to treat it as such,” veritas scolds as his face hovers inches away from yours, his body keeping yours captive against the softness of your shared bed.
“serious? well i think you seriously need to get over it. i spent a lot on that dress and i’ve been looking forward to wearing it to the gala all fortnight,” you scold, trying to look stern with the man hovering above you. “even if you don’t like it, i’m wearing it.”
“don’t like it?" he parrots, utterly appalled. "you’ve got the wrong idea. on the contrary, i think i like it too much.”
your hand snakes up to pinch his heavily defined deltoid. “then what’s the problem?”
“because others will love it just as much as i do.” there’s distaste in his voice when he tells you that, and the way his eyebrows furrow are similar to that of when a student asks him a question that he deems ridiculous.
"sure thing," you roll your eyes at his statement, clearly not believing him, and it vexes him that you are not aware of your ability to capture the attention of bystanders just by entering a room. veritas has witnessed it himself a multitude of times before he had become yours.
the scholar would seethe an envious green whilst keeping an eye on everyone who'd approach you, absolutely burning with jealousy because he was not the sole man of your attention. he'd lament over who he'd become, who you made him become whilst glaring at anyone who came near.
then, you'd smile at him and the fury he felt prior melts away because none of them could ever compete against someone as esteemed as the veritas ratio for your affections.
he's grateful that you saw through those idiots and chose him to be your partner in the end, but aeons, that has not done anything to cure his temper. years of treading the liminal space between friends and something more for too long can make any individual antsy.
"either way, i'm wearing the dress."
"fine. then i should forewarn you that you may find me overbearing tonight, and to not blame me for it."
his arms that were holding up his weight slip when your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you. veritas feels a little lighter when you litter kisses on his cheeks. "no need to be jealous, ratio, i'm all yours."
(true to his word, he does not part from you that evening, acting as an accessory to your outfit. he clings to you, hand never leaving your skin, always moving from your wrist to your waist to your shoulder. you can’t stray from him for more than an arm's length because you’re always tug back towards him before you can get too far, and then he'd follow you to your destination.
outsiders may observe and call him clingy, but judging by the carefree smile on your face and the way you’d beam at your lover every time he would pull you back to him, it doesn’t seem to bother you too much.)
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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thydungeongal · 1 month ago
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I can't imagine what life must be like for you. You wake up every day shitting and pissing yourself with rage because somewhere in the world there are people playing D&D and even worse, playing it WRONG. You don't have to play it with them or even hear about them doing it but the fact that they exist and there's no way for you to stop them will cause you endless torment for the rest of their life. "
Stop homebrewing!!!!" you scream through tears, "Don't you understand that there are other games?" But they do not respond because they do understand, but they know you are mentally incapable of understanding that people who heavily homebrew their games do so because the act of homebrewing a game is the fun they are after. You are doing the equivalent of yelling at someone who plays modded Skyrim because don't they know that Pathologic exists? But they do know Pathologic exists. They do not want to play Pathologic. They want to play modded Skyrim. Because modding the game IS the fun they are having. For them, the modding is the game. And going to play a different game instead would not be the experience they are looking for.
You do not and will never understand that for the majority of the D&D playing population, it is primarily a social activity. A way for them to kick back and hang out and have fun with their friends. The idea that they would factor in the opinions of some random loser on the internet is absurd. You are going up to a group of guys who get together and shoot hoops every friday after work and screaming "NO!!! YOU'RE NOT FOLLOWING THE OFFICIAL NBA RULEBOOK! YOU'RE NOT EVEN KEEPING SCORE!!! TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY!!! AND WHY DON'T YOU PLAY HOCKEY INSTEAD!!!" But they do not care. This is a recreational activity to bond with people that they care about, and you are such an unlikable little creep that you will never know what that's like.
"I'm just trying to get them to engage with the art form!" you lie, "Only playing one game is like only reading one book or only watching one movie!" Except that the average number of ttrpgs that the average person has played is still 0, and even when you count all people who have ever played D&D, the vast majority are people who played a couple of games and then never got back to it. You're acting like this is some massive moral social disease that needs to be cured to solve the anti-intellectualism problem in society as opposed to being the niche hobby of a small portion of the population.
"I just want to show people how great other games are," you lie, because if you actually did want that you would spend your time talking about your favorite games and what makes them great instead of spending all your free time insulting D&D players for the fact that they don't already play these games. I love so many TTRPGS and there are so many others that I would love to get to play, but I can't talk to people about them because so many D&D players first exposure to other game is people like you screaming at them that "EVERYONE WHO PLAYS D&D INSTEAD OF MY GAME IS A FUCKING MORON IDIOT FASCIST WHO SHOULD BE SHOT" and it immediately turns them off from wanting to try those games.
Like maybe if more of you spend your time talking about how cool your last game was, posting session diaries online, discussing your favorite mechanical interactions, posting actual play podcasts or youtube videos, that would entice people to want to try, but in order to do that you would have to understand what having fun playing a game feels like, and you fundamentally don't.
You are the worst thing to happen to the hobby you're actively sabotaging people from wanting to try new games. Honestly Hasbro should be paying you for doing their work for them, making it look like if people leave D&D to try other systems they'll be surrounded by people who scream at and insult them nonstop.
At this point D&D is popular because it is popular. If I want to play D&D, I know I can find a group. If I dig harder, I know I can find one of the other big names (call of cthulhu, vampire the masquerade, pathfinder, MAYBE shadowrun) but finding a full table of people who are all interested in playing a more obscure game (and not even super obscure, even stuff like monster of the week or blades in the dark), and specifically who all want to play the SAME more obscure game? That's really challenging and you strike out a lot, and the fact is hat people get into this hobby because they actually want to fucking play game, not sit around imagining what it would be like to play and then argue with people on the internet.
And the funniest part of all this bullshit is that it literally does not effect you in the slightest. Those five friends hanging out after a hard week of work roleplaying about kissing elves in their basement half a world away are not going to break into your house and make you play D&D and play it their way. It shouldn't upset you but it does, because you are an unhappy person and rather than acknowledge that and deal with it you would rather put the blame for how you feel on some random people you have never met and will never meet, so you spend all your time on the internet frothing at the mouth with rage, trying as hard as you can to make everyone else as miserable as you are.
But it doesn't work, because those people aren't reading your posts. They are having fun kissing elves in the dungeon, blissfully unaware of what some miserable, unpleasant assholes on the internet think about it. They are having fun with their favorite hobby and you are not, and a hobby will never be defined by the 1% of people who spend all their time complaining that the other 99% are doing it wrong, it's defined by what the 99% of people involved are actually doing, and that's what makes you mad and that's what makes you such a fucking worthless loser.
Your mistake is assuming that when I write about RPGs, even critically, that I'm having a bad time, but I actually enjoy the intellectual exercise of thinking about the things I enjoy critically. You should try it too! :)
Also I'm very glad that you've really nailed down on my ideology of "everyone who plays D&D instead of my game is an idiot fascist who must be shot," a thing I am always saying and am in fact famous for saying.
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brainrotfm · 9 months ago
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draft title: fat cock slow sex, sukuna x f!reader
divider credits to @cafekitsune
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sukuna liked you best when you were thrashing.
he had no interest in restraints, binding your hands or feet in silly straps or cuffs to keep you still, having had several lifetimes worth of entrapment and no reason to ensnare you the same, not when he was twice your size and exponentially stronger than you could ever perceive.
no, he wanted you like this, at all times - splayed out unashamedly, blubbering nonsensically, hips wriggling for friction, small fists beating at his chest, trying to spurn a moment of reprieve or relief, whatever came quicker for the little darling trapped beneath your chosen predator.
why were you in such distress?
well, because sukuna loved taking your sopping, plushy little cunt and splitting her in half, bullying the fat girth of his cock as deep as possible before… just... stopping.
every. fucking. time. you should know better by now, always getting yourself into this mess, your fault for loving the most sadistic creature known to history —
a creature indeed, as sukuna rumbles above you, able to feel the timbre against the backs of your legs where they sat flush against his broad chest. his growling earned him a pitiful whimper in return, body twitching back and forth beneath his sheer mass, as if there was any hope for escape.
“so fucking wet for me, woman.”
“love sinking my cock into you and feeling this sweet pussy spasm around me.”
“should i sit here forever, just feeling your little cunt flex for me?”
of course, he won't move unless you beg for it. why should he? this is his favorite way to take you, after all - cunt clenching endlessly, clinging to his cock, weeping to be stuffed full of his cum whenever he pleased. he has no reason to indulge you unless you really put up a fight, and even then, he'll taunt you all the same. but beg you do, as you always do, happily the loser of this battle when this was a neverending game of his maintaining his attention.
“you sure, brat? i can always get you off just like this,” and he punctuated his point with a rough slide of his thumb over your slit, catching at your clit and pressing, “let you cum all over my cock without even moving, be my selfish little whore tonight. yeah?”
it's not enough though, never truly satisfying to finish like that, your hips twitching toward the sensation of being filled completely, satiated fully, the way that only sukuna could. only he knew how to cure the ache throbbing in your naval.
“okay little one, but you asked for it. we don’t stop til I say we stop.”
finally, finally he sat back on his heels, but there would be no mercy for you.
sukuna picked up your hips from where they rested against his impossibly large thighs, his eyes losing their focus on you. now, his gaze was trained on that delicious, glimmering cunt of yours, still pulsating around his cock, your anticipation drooling out of you. slowly, so slowly it would drive you insane, sukuna began to drag his cock back out of your perfect little heat, spit pooling in his mouth as he salivated at the sight. no point in wasting it - he spits down at the place your bodies connect, easing the pull, eliciting a twin shudder from both of you at the noise.
the problem with his misdirected focus was that it took forever for either of you to cum like this, which was the point, but you detested him sometimes for it, you really did. even if he let out the breathiest sighs of enjoyment, having you like this, that made your spine curl inside you.
when he has you right where he wants you, whimpering like a little bitch in heat, wide eyed simmering with want and unshed tears as he simply enjoys himself. inching himself out, and there's so much of him, dragging through you until the fat mushroom tip of his cock bulged the sensitive ring of your entrance - before plunging his hips forward, fucking you full in an instant, kicking the breath right out of your lungs.
your impatience was beginning to show as your hips wriggled, your breaths slipping an octave higher as a whine passed your lips right as sukuna began the slow drag out of you once again. he sighed dreamily above you, practically purring as he grinned at the trails of tears actively staining your cheeks,
“that's it, little one, cry for me. make me cum with those pretty tears."
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prettyboykatsuki · 11 months ago
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YOU’VE GOT THE CURE (EVERYTHING I NEED) | B. KATSUKI. 
✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, soft dom!reader, sub!bakaugou, developing relationships, mutual pining and ambiguous relationships, anal play (m!recieving), dry orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, 18+
✮ wc ; 6.7k
✮ a/n ; an anon comission from a beloved mutual im posting. also just dropping in to say hello
✮ synopsis ; katsuki is too fucking young to have erectile dysfunction, damn it.
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“Hey.” 
“Hm?” 
The sound of your typing is especially loud in the empty office. It’s a Saturday and neither of you are supposed to be clocked in, but when duty calls - it’s up to the two of you to answer. 
“...I’m going to tell you something. If you so much as fucking laugh I will kill you.”
You don’t look up from your screen.
“Well that’s one way to start a sentence. I’ll try not to laugh.”
Katsuki slams his hand on the desk. 
“I’m being serious,” He says in a half-yell. You look up from the edge of your laptop unflinchingly with a displeased frown, shaking your head and throwing your hand up half-heartedly. 
“Fine, fine - I promise I won’t laugh. Can you stop being all ominous? You sound like Tokoyami.” 
“There’s something wrong with me,” 
“Well yes,” 
“Not like that,” He hisses, taking a deep breath. He leans forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped seriously as he covers his face. “...I think my fucking..thing..is broken.” 
There’s a loud noise like a muffled laugh but when Katsuki looks up your expression is completely blank. Your lips are pressed tight, eyes out of focus as you continue to type. Or pretend to. True to your word, you don’t laugh but Katsuki still wants to fucking kill you. 
“Oh? What uhm,” You clear your throat, lips trembling as you try to keep yourself together. “What brought you to that conclusion?” 
He nearly snaps his pen in half. 
“What do you fucking think?!” 
“Hey. Calm down. I’m doing my best not to laugh but you are not helping.” 
This is the sort of thing Katsuki would normally take to his grave. Not only is it genuinely humiliating, it is the sort of painful personal detail he wouldn’t share with anyone even if he was fucking them. It wouldn’t matter either, that his dick isn’t working - if the other ways he relieved stress were.
He’s got an average sex drive, sometimes lower but a high libido. Getting off is a physical response to a bodily need. Like eating food or taking a nap. It’s just because it’s a physical need, it is noticeable when the need doesn’t get met. He is painfully aware of it. It’s been weeks and he thinks he’s starting to lose his mind. Worse? He’s exhausted every human option trying to fix the problem himself, save for going to the dick doctor. His testosterone levels are fine, he gets check-ups more regularly than the average person. Given his reputation is at stake, he’d rather not get prescribed anything. He’s bought ginseng and shitty vitamins and medicine he had to ship from overseas. Anything and everything. 
Picking up viagra at the ripe age of twenty four would give him psychic damage he won’t recover from, this much Katsuki is sure of. So not that. But everything else, every natural remedy conceived - he’s tried. 
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose and willfully ignoring the sound of your strained huffing “I can’t fucking get….it up and I don’t know why. I’ve tried everything. Everything. I’m going crazy,” 
“You know, it really says something about our relationship that you can confide to me about these kinds of problems. Like I’m so proud of us,” 
“Shut up. I’m already miserable enough without wanting to fucking tell you - but the only other option is Shitty Hair and Izuku. I refuse to buy a single goddamn pill for it, and I know if I go to a doctor they’re gonna recommend it and—” He can’t finish the thought. It’s a little too sincere for the kind of conversation you’re having. 
You’re a tactless person, so of course - you don’t bother with going along with the mood. Instead you smile like the evil bastard you are. 
“And…?” 
“You little—” He sighs rubbing his palms over his hands “And because I can trust you to be the least horrible option.” 
“So you acknowledge my valiant efforts as your underling and assistant and know you’d be nowhere without me?” 
“Shut up.” 
“Aw, you’re sweet,” You say, promptly ignoring him “But yeah, I mean - no judgement. I would ask if you’ve had anything major happen but I unfortunately already know that’s not really the case.”
Yes. You, of all people, would know that no major changes have happened in Katsuki’s external life that would make it hard for his dick to function. You spend so much time together. Minus the time he spends working and catching villains in the world - you’re practically glued to his side. You’re in charge of all of his affairs, his schedule, all other personal things. Katsuki is naturally neurotic, but you handle all of it with grace and care. You know everything about him, which is why he is asking you about this problem. 
(Does it border on unprofessional? Of course it does. But your relationship to each other degraded that border a long time ago. You’ve already slept in his bed and met all of his friends. And kissed him, but that’s irrelevant for now) 
“I need solutions,” Katsuki offers, totally and utterly defeated by the situation at hand. “I’ve done everything. Taken every goddamn herb, done every meditation. Nothing is working. Nothing. I’m going to go fucking crazy.” 
“Do you think just sleeping with someone would help? I know you don’t want to ask any of your friends, but maybe an escort? We can do it discreetly.” 
“Fuck no. If it were that easy I would’ve done it.” 
You pause. Katsuki can see the focus on your face and doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. After an elongated period of silence, you perk up a little. You lock eyes with him and Katsuki briefly regrets bringing the whole conversation up in the first place. 
“Hate to ask,” You say, though there’s not enough embarrassment on your face to make anything of that statement. “But uh, have you tried getting off with other things. Like something that isn’t your dick.” 
He feels a flush creeping up his skin. “What the fuck are you talking about!”
“This is an important question,” You emphasize, an expression so alarmingly calm Katsuki doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. “Cause if the answer is no, then that’s basically the best solution.” 
“How the fuck is that the best solution? Are you insane?” 
“Don’t be such a prude, Mr. Dynamight. You’ve bottomed before. It’s not that different. Have you ever tried it on your own?” 
“I fucking hate you.” He replies, closing his eyes and frowning. “No I haven’t. Why the hell would I do something so embarrassing.” 
“I know you’re super anal retentive - no pun intended there actually, but can you relax a little? It’s a good solution if nothing else is working. Your dick might be broken but an orgasm is an orgasm.” 
“Remind me to never ask you for shit again,” 
“I’d love that. Just keep me on payroll. Anyway,” You go back to typing. “I think that should be your first move,”
“How the—are you seriously telling me I should go fuck myself to solve my problem?” 
You giggle. “Well it sounds bad when you put it like that. But I guess yeah. I can help pick out some sex toys, maybe, do a little research. If you don’t want to do it in your apartment, there might be a love hotel,” 
A blush creeps up against the back of his neck. He covers his face with his hands. 
“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up. There’s no,” Another wave of humiliation sets in “There’s no way this is how I’m going about this. Like. Fucking none.” 
“The only other option is the good old fashioned doctors appointment, then. Which we can squeeze in over telehealth I think - since you got a check-up pretty recently. Want me to do that instead,” 
“Fuck, no. I just,” He groans, feeling the stress make his eye twitch “Fuck.” 
There’s a bit of silence and a little typing, like you’ve decided to leave him to his thoughts. Which he doesn’t blame you for, because all things fucking considered - there’s not really any more options. He’s a smart man and even he is fucking stumped. He’s going to have to give into something, eventually. He knows that, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. 
As soon as he gets close to giving up, you sit up straighter and give a deep long sigh. 
“Hey,” You scratch the side of your face awkwardly. “Do you want me to help you….?” 
He stares at you. “With what.” 
“With your dick being broken,” 
“What?!” 
“Don’t yell anymore, you’re giving me a headache,” You express, rubbing your temples. “Look. You need to get off, and you’re probably going to have to use your ass to do it. You don’t want to do it by yourself, and you don’t want to do it with a friend or escort. You’d prefer not going to the doctor's office or taking any pills. I’m offering - I’m not really your friend per se and you trust me enough to ask about it.” 
He hates more than anything that you have a point. 
“You can’t be fucking serious right now.”
“Hey. If you want your dick to stay broken for a while until you figure it out, do you. I’m just saying. Offering solutions is what you pay me for,” 
He pulls back a little. 
“...Are you fine with that?” 
“Oh banging you? Is that what you’re worried about?” He winces at the direct and crass way you speak. “I like you plenty and you’ve got a pretty face. I’m down if you are,” 
“I can’t believe I’m considering this.” 
“Really? I totally can,” You snicker, and he really, really considers firing you. “It’s not the first time we’ve crossed boundaries with each other. Just consider it, okay? Before you actually blow a fuse.” 
He leans back in his chair and groans. 
“Fuck. Yeah, whatever.” 
__ 
It’s another week before Katsuki takes you up on your offer. 
Miraculous it took that long, given the amount he suffered stubbornly trying to fix the problem on his own. The lengths he went too are too embarrassing to even disclose or recount but it very quickly became clear that this was not an issue that was going to magically disappear - no matter how hard he tried. 
Against his better judgment and after a long, cold shower trying to talk himself out of reality - Katsuki sent you a one line text. 
Fine. Come Saturday. 
The only thing he could say without dying of complete fucking shame. He’s grateful that’s the time you decided to have some tact. 
(Not a lot, since the text back you sent was a peach emoji and a thumbs up. But whatever, he’ll take what he can get.) 
It’s Saturday now, and he’s clean. All of him. He’s clean, and just wearing his boxers - sitting on his couch. You’ll be here very soon, and he can’t believe he’s saying this, but he’s nervous. 
You did mention you were fine with it. He believes that because there’s been long standing tension between you two for god knows how long he’s not entirely blind too. You sleep at his place sometimes and spend all day with him, and then there was that one time you two kissed (very sober) during New Years. You don’t bring it up because you know he can’t deal with it. Yet he’s comforted by the fact you at least want it (because you’ve said so), and that you’re willing to do this despite the ambiguity in your relationship. 
He knows that is inevitably going to come up today. But he really wants to fucking cum. And if it’s with you, then it’s fine. If his head was a little clearer, he would probably reject this whole thing based on his own emotional disparity. God fucking knows he is not in any place to deal with any of that. His heart barely gets by in the office and now you were going to fuck him. 
Is he stupid? 
Usually no, but because there’s a soft dick and tight balls where his brain used to be, currently yes. Everything put together, it’s a recipe for disaster. He considers telling you to fuck off and forget all this happens. 
But then he thinks about the prospect of your hands and your voice and it’s enough to at least get his heart pumping, though his dick still refuses to cooperate.
More than anything, he does trust you. Shitty, smug little fucker you can be sometimes - there’s not a single person who goes out of their way for him. More than just your job, sometimes it feels like every little thing you do is for his sake. Everything you don’t ask of him, every secret you keep. You push him where he needs to go and encourage him to take risks in his career without imposing on him. 
He blushes again, laying on his couch. He was nervous before but it’s not any better. Maybe he’s not so much of a dumbass as he is a total fucking masochistic. Is the level of overthinking the shit Izuku goes through? No wonder he’s like that all the time. 
He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the doorbell ring. 
He answers the door shirtless and finds you on the other side. You have a cardboard box and the most nonchalant expression he’s ever seen. Normally it would annoy him, but right now he’s kind of comforted by it. You look at him with a flat smile. 
“Hey sexy,” You say with no intonation. “Can I come in?” 
He gives you a look of disdain. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. But come in,” 
You laugh quietly as he steps aside. You don’t have much with you other than the ominous box and your bag. 
“You look like you’ve showered,” You say, taking your shoes off and putting on the house slippers he keeps for you. You don’t even look at him as you go towards his bedroom upstairs. He follows you with mild (faux) annoyance.“What a shame.” 
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“I wanted to get a little romantical and help you clean up but you’ve taken that from me. I’m a little hurt.” 
“You’re such a dumbass. As if I’d let you do that,” 
“Don’t be such a spoilsport. I’m gonna be playing in your ass today anyway.” 
“Not the same thing.” 
“Tomato, to-mah-to,” You say with a wave of your hands. When you finally get upstairs, you look over your shoulder. Katsuki gets the message quickly enough, helping you with the door. You give him a little smile and let yourself in, dropping the box on the edge of his king sized mattress. 
He stands in the doorway for a short while, glancing at you before coming in. You put your bag somewhere on the floor before getting back to the box you’ve brought over. He can guess what’s in it, but he stands with you to open it anyways.
Predictably,  the thing is full of sex toys. The first question he wants to ask is how much you spent on all of it, but he bites his tongue. 
You look at him and do a little jazz hands gesture. “Tah-dah.” 
He gives you a displeased look, but you’re well used to this sort of thing from him. There isn’t actually a whole lot in the box. The theatrics of you bring it upstairs were more likely just you fucking with him for the sake of the bit.  He frowns. Typical. 
You do have some new things in the box. A few expensive look gadgets, like a pair of quirk canceling handcuffs (decorated with leopard print fur) and something that looks like it goes around his neck. The sex toys that are in there are noticeably high quality. You definitely used his dime to pay for this. 
“Handcuffs? Seriously?” 
“You’re too much of a control freak and I like not having my hands blown to bits,” You say, shaking your head. “We should establish some ground rules and stuff now.” 
“Haah? The fuck are you gonna do that we need rules.”
“I’m not just gonna jump scare you with dominating you. But that is what I’m doing.  What we’re doing.” You give him a more serious look, that makes him feel more shy than he cares to admit.  “You get what I’m saying? You have to trust me a little, okay?” 
He makes a petulant face at you. “I already trust you dipshit,” 
“This and that are different,” You say, shaking your head. He refrains from disagreeing with you a second time. They’re really not, but he has no desire to explain that. “I’m gonna touch you and be a little strict. Are you okay with that?” 
“I don’t care.” 
“That’s not an answer,” 
He grits. “I want to cum. And I…trust you or whatever. I already agreed to this. If it’s pissing me off, I’ll just kick you offa me. Anyway, ‘s fine.” 
“If you kick me I’m suing you for battery. We can have a safeword. I’m not going to duct tape your mouth and I’m gonna talk you through most of it - but just incase.” You say. He pauses, taken aback by how… delicately you’re treating him. He doesn’t know if he should be pissed about it or not. “Any word is fine. We can use the stoplight system too if you want.”
“Stoplight?” 
“Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.” 
“That’s fine. Easy to remember.” 
“Okay,” You nod to yourself, tucking the promise to memory before looking at him more seriously. “Are you okay with intimacy?” 
He stares at you. 
“The fuck…?” 
“Kissing and hand-holding and all that other stuff.” 
“Is it necessary?” 
“Strictly speaking, no,” You look at him knowingly this time. He’s taken aback, but you’re always like this. You look through him, not at him. “Are you okay with it?” 
The implication is there. Do you want it? is the question that goes unasked. Too direct for his tastes. He feels heat spread through his body, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 
“Yeah…’m fine with it.” 
Your smile is more genuine this time around. He turns away from you a little. 
“Okay. That’s everything out of the way. I’m gonna cuff your arms,” You say. It all feels a little sudden. He figures you’d mean business, but still - he’s not all that prepared. He’s had a week to mentally prepared but that feels like nothing compared to now.  There’s an authority to the way you talk now he isn’t sure he’s going to get used too. “Repeat your safewords to me when you turn around.” 
He frowns but listens. He puts his hands together in front of him, waiting for you to cuff him, shyness making him hot. 
“Uh. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.” 
“Good boy,” You say so smoothly it almost rolls off of him. The cuffs go around his wrists, and Katsuki can feel the familiar sensation of losing his quirk. Now it’s just the both of you. “I’m expecting a little pushback, but generally - you’re to listen to me. Clear?” 
“God, fuck - yeah clear,” Katsuki says, feeling ticklish all of a sudden. “All this shitty foreplay is making me feel weird.” 
You wrap your arm around his midriff in a sudden movement, making him twitch. He can feel your cheek pressed against his chest as your hands hover over his waistband. He takes in a sharp inhale. 
“It’s good that you’re feeling anything.” You say, breath just barely above a whisper. “Gonna take this off,” 
He just nods, silently. It’s still on soft, but something is happening in his gut at least. You help him take his boxers down. You’ve probably seen him naked before, more than once. You two being attached at the hip was no joke. This time there’s this lingering anticipation that’s there, and that changes things. 
He steps out of his boxers. He’s naked and you’re clothed and his head feels like it’s spinning. Your hand guides him to the edge of the bed. He sits and watches you, but you don’t undress. 
The first kiss (second kiss) that you exchange with Katsuki is pleasant. You bend down to do it. It’s a chaste way to meet his lips, weirdly soothing while his stomach is starting to tie in knots. It’s a little surprising how..comfortable it is. Your mouth is soft, your lips taste a little like chapstick and you smell nice. You pull away to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing down his jaw. 
Your thumbs draw over the shell of his ear, rubbing the lobe tender. You’re so different. The contrast in your normal personality is a little too much for him to reconcile with easily, but you brush over these things well enough. He looks away when you meet his eyes. 
“Do you wanna lay down or kneel?” 
His throat is tight. “...Don’t care.” 
You laugh a little to yourself, another kiss. “Lay down then. It’d probably be easier if you put your ass up but knowing you, I doubt it.” 
He blushes, annoyed that he’s so obviously predictable to you. 
The sheets are soft where he lays. You don’t join him on the bed at first. He just waits there cuffed as you shuffle around for things - lubes and toys and pillows. When you do return to him, you pat his side and slide a pillow underneath his back. He quickly regrets laying down, because god the position is fucking exposing. 
You get between his legs and settle there comfortably. A hand rests on his bare thigh, rubbing your thumb into smooth, muscled skin. His breath is hitched. You lean down and kiss his hip. Still no dice on the erection, but you don’t seem discouraged. 
You flip the lube open and let it pour onto your fingertips. It’s pink lube. This is mildly irritating, but saying anything will feed into your satisfaction so Katsuki bites his tongue. He watches it as you warm it in your hands, patting his leg with your clean hand. 
“Legs up,” You instruct. “And deep breath. Try not to tense.” 
“Just goin’ for it, huh?”
You don’t reply to that, but you do smile. 
It’s not his first rodeo. His second or third, but certainly not his first - but he’s never had it done for a reason like this. There was an exchange prior, that someone was putting something in him for their pleasure too. This isn’t for that. This is just for him, with your skilled hands and your oddly gentle tendencies that he doesn’t see any other time. That proves to be too much, makes his belly feel honeyed with lust. 
The warm, thick sensation of lubed fingers presses against the tight rim of muscle. He breathes and unclenches. Tries not to think too hard about anything. He’s desperate, too desperate. At this point, it’s hard to be prideful. Your hands are noticeably daintier than the ones he’s had in him prior. It’s…weirdly nice. Makes the process easier somehow. He’s reminded that you’re just you, and that makes him more nervous. 
“That’s it, baby,”  You hum, so soft it’s startling. The way the blood starts to rush in that familiar way nearly makes him sick. Oh, fuck. No way. “Oh?” 
No way. No fucking way. No way that’s what does him in. 
You pause. He takes in a deep breath, ready to say anything to defend himself. Humiliation spreads through his whole body. He can feel how hard he’s starting to burn, like the blood in his body is struggling to keep up with the desire and pump of his heart. His chest and face start to flush a familiar rose as he grits his teeth and closes his eyes. 
Weeks. Weeks and weeks of trying to figure this out. And it was you calling him baby, of all things, to get him at half-mast. 
He’s too afraid to open his eyes, but forces himself too. He’s expecting a smug laugh or sarcastic jab but instead you just look surprised. You stare at him, unblinking. He’s so startled he stares back. 
“Do you wanna…keep going?” 
He gets hard. Fuck. 
“S-shit,” He says, wishing he could cover his face with his hands properly. “Yeah,” 
He can’t read your expression at all. Annoying. You don’t brush over it though - but you don’t force him to acknowledge it either. Maybe you’re just focused on the fact he finally has something to work with and don’t want to ruin it by making him talk about his feelings. 
“Baby,” You say again, smooth and deliberate. There’s that twitch again, something pooling in his gut. He starts to feel nervous. You’re doing the same as before, stretching him and teasing the rim - getting him ready for something else. “You like bein’ my baby, Katsuki?” 
He opens his mouth, only to close it again. He tries to choke some word about, telling you go fuck yourself - but he always ends up looking at your face. Your lashes on your cheek. Soft touches and even softer words. He stops knowing what he wants at some point.
“Ugh,” His voice grows thicker. “Don’t ask me that,” 
(If he were more apt at honesty, he could admit to you that he just wants you. In whatever way. Sometimes you get like this, when you’re not screwing around - and you’re so good to him that it hurts. He likes your sarcasm and dryness. 
But he likes too when you’re this sweet on him too - even if that feels shameful as fuck. That feels like it’s crossing so many more lines that you’re usual self. He knows that better than anyone. It is crossing more lines than usual. 
He can’t help but think about it anyway.)
You laugh a little. His eyes go lidded as you continue to work him open. It’s a slow process. You circle his hole with your thumb each time before pushing in. You get one finger in without effort. The second one takes a little more. Another heaved breath and unclenching of his muscles. 
He hasn’t felt the sensation of something entering him in so long. He can’t remember when the last time was. He’s antsy as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching him slowly. You find the bottle with your free hand, flicking it open with your teeth and pouring lube onto him directly before you keep going. 
“That feel okay?” You mumbles
“Y-yeah. Feels fine,” He huffs, closing his eyes “Feels…good,” 
“It’ll feel better soon. Just need to,” You curve the two fingers inside of him up. They search and search and search until—
There. Shit, there. 
“Oh, shit,” He gasps, arching himself up as you rub it. You smile at him, pleased. “Fuck,” 
You whistle. Katsuki can feel his cock throb properly now, up at full attention. You don’t touch him though. Your other hand grips his thigh for support as you focus your wrist and energy on curling your fingers against his prostate. His stomach flutters, waist tightening.
He’s been fucked before, damn it, but this is different. This is controlled and concentrated. Your fingers are perfect in their motion, pinpoint pleasure making him break out into a feverishness. You’re annoyingly good at this. His whole nervous system feels like it’s being unraveled so slowly. Pulled apart like the slices of a fruit, something for you to pick off and eat.
His head feels like it’s full of cotton, tongue too big for his mouth. Thoughts clouded and inhibition lowered. Real pleasure. He hasn’t felt that in what has to be more than a month now. It’s overwhelming. He’s sensitive and muddy and acting stupidly - he’s well aware. It’s an out of body experience being so unwound in general but this after everything is overstimulating. 
God it feels good. How can anything feel this fucking good? 
His breathing is erratic, heart pumping trying to keep up with it. Euphoric little pricks start at his abdomen and shoot off through his whole body. Like the splintering ends of a falling star. 
He’s never had any orgasm that feels like it needs every muscle in his body to pump through him. It starts in his center and spreads out, melts him slowly. Usually the feeling of needing to cum is passing - just building pleasure until the orgasm hits and the high relaxes. His cock is leaking now with every little press along his insides. Little white dribbles of pre-cum sliding down his shift all the way down to his ass. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks, so he focuses on how it feels. 
“Fuck, that feels so good,” His voice almost gives. “Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t slow down.”
“You can cum if you want to, Katsuki,” As if to drive the point home by massaging his inner thigh, neglecting his cock “Guess you’re pretty sensitive inside, hm? Gonna make you cum like a girl,” 
His blush deepens.. 
“Haah, fuck - fuck I’m not sensitive. It’s just, hng. Been a while,” 
“Don’t be a liar or I won’t let you cum,” You tease. 
His eyes shoot wide, brows touching his hairline.  “Fuck, d-don’t you dare. .” 
You have the nerve to laugh at him. All things considered, maybe you’ve earned. “Just teasing. I’m awful but not that awful. “ 
“You’re not awful, fuck - just really,” He throws his head back against the sheets. “Need to cum, really need to—” 
“Gonna cum without even touching your cock,” You say, half-amused. He shudders when the realization dawns on him.“You’re so sweet.” 
He’s drooling. The strength goes out in his jaw as the feeling just builds and builds and builds. It goes on like it’ll never topple. 
When it does, it doesn’t feel so much like a rope unsnapping as much as it feels like everything is being pulled from under him. Like the loss of gravity. His abdomen goes tight, the anticipation of it making it impossible to breathe. So close, so close, so close. His brain feels shut off, mindlessly humping along air to capitalize on everything. You’re encouraging only eggs him on further. He lets out a garbled little noise, choking. His voice rasps as electricity flows through him. 
And he cums, there’s an orgasm - but nothing comes out. He cums so hard but his balls still feel so tight and full. It feels good but he’s still so fucking hard. It snaps him awake as his eyes open, and you’re staring at his cock a little awestruck. 
“Oh, poor baby,” You say - not exactly mocking him but not exactly being kind either. Katsuki stares at you lost and hazy. “A dry orgasm after all of that. That’s just cruel. 
He heaves. “What the….how am I supposed to?” 
His dick aches. Fuck he almost wants to cry. 
Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft in a sudden movement, making him hiss. He almost cusses you out. Sensitive, too sensitive. You put your thumb over the tip of his cock, more pre-cum leaking from it as you. You look mesmerized as it dribbles against your thumb
A long pause. 
“Hey,” Your expression is  serious. “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
“What?” 
“I’m really turned on right now, shit. I was planning on just helping you but, you didn’t cum yet and I’m...,” You’re looking at him so directly. His heart pounds. “You can say no,” 
Of course he wants to fuck you. That’s what he wants to say. He doesn’t know where he’d find the fucking gall. 
“....’s sensitive,” He says instead, flushing with embarrassment. You brighten up. “Just… give me a minute,” 
“I will but first,” You rummage through your items and pull out a plug. His eyes widen. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” 
He grumbles, but doesn’t reject you. You have some kind of miracle in you - so he feels more inclined to just give in to whatever you say. You look eager to do it. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. 
It’s easy enough to put the plug in when he’s already all soft. He’s still sensitive and swollen. He hisses as the cool metal of the plug slides into softened hole, before settling. You give him a little tap on his which he glares at you for. Your only response is laughter. 
There’s nothing to talk about while Katsuki watches you undress. You don’t take it all off - just your bottoms. It’s not that he has nothing on his mind. Just that… seeing you like that isn’t making him any less hard. He just… looks at you. Dumbly. You slide your shorts off in one go and your underwear along with it, and you’re all on display. 
It’s pretty. Your pussy is really pretty. A horrifyingly embarrassing thing for him to think but it’s true. There’s a fine layer of hair on your mound that he likes. You’re dripping wet like you said you were, and that doesn’t make the situation any easier. You give him a little smug grin as you settle over his lap. He stares at you completely absent-minded, flushed. 
“Like what you see?” You tease. He’s too struck to lie to you. 
“Yeah,” He rasps. He’s out of his mind right now. He blames it on his dick. “I wish I could take these fuckin’ cuffs off.” 
You look at him a little surprised. “You don’t like being cuffed and restrained?” 
His ears feel hot, heat prickling up his skin. “Didn’t say that just,” He groans even trying to say it. “...Wanna touch you,” 
He trails off. You use your hand to turn his face back to you, cupping his jaw as you bend forward to kiss him. He stares at you wide-eyed, making a noise of surprise. This kiss is different from all the others. Deeper, with more feeling. He gets into it, lifting his head to kiss you back. 
When you pull away, you’re all fluttered lashes and adoration. 
“After I drain your dick dry,” You say with a confidence that astounds him. “I’ll take them off and let you fuck me proper. But you have to tell me you want that, first. Do you wanna fuck me, baby?” 
“Shit. Y-yeah,” He nods, feeling absolutely swept up in your pace. 
“Say it.” 
“I wanna fuck you, dammit,” He stutters through the last of his sentence. “Don’t make me beg, my dick is going to blow off if you keep torturing me.” 
You laugh good naturedly and he feels a little proud that he made you laugh. The thought that he’s beyond whipped wipes the smile off his face completely, but whatever. 
You pull back, sitting up as you examine his cock. You hold it up to you, weighing your options. 
“I’m too horny to open myself up. I’m just gonna sit on it, ‘kay? Don’t buck your hips up,” 
He opens his mouth to protest, but the words die in his mouth. The warm, wet heat of your cunt is immediately overstimulating. He groans so gutterally it startles him. Like it’s punched out of him. This is the only pressure his hard cock has gotten in months and it’s making him feel like he’s on fire. 
You don’t give him a chance to cover. You lean over him as you maneuver his cock to your entrance with all disregard for his sanity. You hiss as the tip finds the spot. Fuck you’re wet. Your insides are so soft, so sticky - but you’re still so damn tight. 
As you promised you go slowly. It doesn’t help him losing his mind. Worsened by the fact he can see you on top of him, all bated breaths and shaky moans. There must be a dull pain, but you only give him a smile as you get the first inch. 
“You’re big,” You say breathlessly. His cock twitches to life. “Feels fucking good. Shit, that’s amazing. Haha, I can feel you so deep already.” 
“Please stop talking, before I, haah,” 
“Don’t cum yet,” You demand, lowering yourself further and further until you’ve bottomed out. Katsuki feels fucking crazy. “Let me get my fill first.” 
“Ngh, easier said than fucking done,” 
You just laugh. “Try your hardest, Mr. Hero. Show off your endurance, hm?” 
He groans as you start to move. You really don’t regard him at all. You lean over him with one hand and use your other to tease and toy with your clit as you ride his cock with reckless abandon. The room is quick to fill with noise - the sound of skin slapping skin, the skin sticking where your hips meet his thighs. 
 You’re moaning in little broken waves. He’s not going to last if he listens to you anymore. 
He’s biting the inside of his cheek trying not to cum, but you don’t make it easy. You’re riding him with so much force, using him. Your pussy is so tight it’s gripping him, sucking him dry. A vice-like grip, sticky and pliant over the hard curve of his cock. Everytime you bounce and throw your ass a little harder onto him, he can feel you. Feel himself and  how deep he is. His hands tighten into fists where they’re cuffed in front of him. 
He’s never been… used like this. But he doesn’t hate it the way you disregard him to chase your own pleasure while being so generally mindful of his own. You take and take and take but you make it feel so good. 
It’s not helped by the plug in his ass, brushing against his prostate every single time you move. Makes him jolt. Every fiber and nerve in his body is wound as tight as it can possibly go. All of his strength, sanity, and focus he has left in him is trying not to cum, not to buck his hips up and rut into you like a stupid animal no matter how much he wants too. 
He can feel you start to cum before you even tell him. Your walls pulse with need and your movement starts to get slower. The grip you have holding you up weakens slightly. 
“Gonna cum. Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” You say with a pant. You open your eyes and look down on him “Cum with me, okay? Don’t hold it in,” 
The words alone trigger a reaction. But with everything else, it’s like Katsuki explodes. Weeks worth of tension in his body, in his muscles, in his everything  - burst at the seams. You cum and he follows you nearly in succession. The hard pulsing of your swollen cunt suck around him like a vice and he goes practically limp feeling his dick finally drain. 
He cums and he can’t stop cumming. Pumps out so much white hot seed his head starts to cloud. He fucks up into you, sloppy and dumb. Chasing his high as he pours every ounce of his load into your pussy without so much as a modicum of shame. A month of dryness overwritten by the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. He doesn't know how long he stays there, painting your walls with his spend. It just goes on forever, longer than he’s ever experienced. 
He has his eyes closed as he goes limp. Fucking hell. 
It takes him a while to go soft again. When he finally does and returns to consciousness, he’s still nestled inside you. You give him a smile when his eyes finally open, leaning forward to kiss his hairline. 
“Still all there?” 
His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. “I feel like I fucking died,” 
You giggle. 
“So… no?” 
“Kind of. Barely. What the fuck is up with you.” He says laying his head back, sweat dripping down his back. “Shit.” 
“Did you like it?” 
He gives you an unimpressed look as you laugh. 
“I’m glad.” You say softly. You’re warm. God he’s down bad. “We have a lot to talk about later. You should take a little break for now.” 
He nods in agreement to both things before pausing. “For now..?” 
“You thought we were done?” You say with a tilted head. He gapes. “I thought you knew I was more ruthless than that.” 
He groans. 
“You’re insane.” 
You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him. 
“You love me.” 
He lets you kiss him some more and doesn’t bother denying it. 
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago
Text
hysteria
kinktober, day twenty-eight
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a/n: look, we already know that I'm a nerd when it comes to medical history, so this really shouldn't come as a surprise. only thing surprising about it is how fucking long it took for me to finally write this kinda fic, damn, because this fantasy is ancient.
summary: “miss, I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”
warnings: doctor!aleksander morozova x innocent!reader, smut, dubcon, historical au, medical kink, time accurate sexism, fingering, sex toys (vibrator, fuck machine), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, size kink, squirting, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation
word count: 1607
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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Eyes glued to the clipboard in his hand, doctor Morozova quietly read up from the list of symptoms he had just scribbled down, “…unmarried, insomnia, increased nervousness during social interactions… miss,” he then lifted his obsidian gaze and told you gravely, “I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”
“I-I do?” 
“Yes, I’m terribly sorry,” he laid the papers down on the desk before him, “seems like your womb is not where it’s supposed to be and that can cause all sorts of problems as you can see by your symptoms.”
Fingers weaved so tightly in the fabric in your lap it nearly broke through, ruining your dress, your panic began to bubble out, “what should I do, doctor? Is there a cure?”
“There is,” he nodded, subtly raising a hand up to soothe your nerves, “the way to relieve this disorder is by causing something called a hysterical paroxysm,” he informed, abruptly redirecting his stare down upon the woodgrain of the tabletop, “now, usually, if a woman is married, the husband is to perform the treatment, but since you’re not,” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “I’ll help rid your body of this ailment.”
“Really? Thank you,” you gasped, “what, uh, what does it entail?”
“Oh, it’s simple enough,” he waved a casual hand, “you just rid yourself of your undergarments and lay down on the exam table for me.”
“I-…” you blinked, eyes wide before you swallowed, “…alright…”
Getting up from the chair opposing his desk, you walked around the flimsy partition set up in the corner. Reaching under your dress, you timidly pulled your underwear down your legs, past your stockings and off. Folding the garment in a neat little bundle, you settled it on the small stool that stood back here before stepping back out from behind the cover. 
Now settled at the bottom of the exam table on a seat, he gestured for you to get up onto the slab before you apprehensively did so. 
“If you would please just put your feet up in these stirrups,” he adjusted the metal legs below you, “then we can get started.” 
As you then shifted, settling your feet into place, your skirts tented and began to ride up, a gust of crisp air kissing your exposed centre and causing your cheeks to heat up.  
Hearing his chair scoot closer, you then felt his touch softly ghost from your knees all the way up your thighs till his fingers were gently prying your petals apart. After taking a good look, he then briefly retracted his touch, unscrewing a nearby dark glass jar, swiping up some of the glossy contents before grazing through your folds once more, the cool temperature of the lubrication causing you to suck in a sharp breath. 
“Sorry, if it’s a bit cold,” he murmured as he continued to smear it in. 
Head faintly shaking, “it’s fine,” you tried just to focus on your breathing. 
Pushing your dress a bit more out of the way, he told you, “just try and relax for me, it will go by a lot smoother if you relax,” his touch then suddenly changed, “now, tell me,” zeroing in and pressing down on your clit in a way that made the office around you go fuzzy, “how does that feel?” 
Blinking down at him, you found that his vision was already firm on you, “I-… I don’t know… how is it supposed to feel?”
“It’s supposed to feel good,” he rubbed a bit harder, “so, does it feel good?”
“I-I guess so,” your vision fluttered back up towards the ceiling, the doctor’s dark eyes being too much to stand, “yeah.”
“Good, good,” his attentive touch then shifted, “now let me just have a feel inside. Deep breath for me,” your lungs expanded at his command, “there you go,” and his long finger pressed inside, gently curving it around against your walls as he examined, “yep, there it is… your womb, it’s in the completely wrong spot,” he swiftly worked another digit in, watching as you stretched around his fingers, “it’s good that you came in now before it got even worse,” pulling back out, he ended the contact with an unnecessary rub against your buzzing clit.
As he then scooted a bulky and mysterious machine over, you asked nervously, “w-what is that?”
“Just a little apparatus that’s gonna help cure you,” he twisted a vaguely phallic shape into place at the end of the device’s long arm. After noticing your startled expression, you felt his warm hand sprawl across your thigh, “don’t worry, love. It’s all gonna be just fine,” lining it up, “just try and lay still,” he turned a switch and the attachment slowly drove into you. 
“Oh my god!” your palm slammed down against the exam table. 
“Shh, it’s alright,” he caught your eye till your body slowly began to give in, calming under his gaze. Reaching his right hand up, he tickled your puff as the gadget slowly eased in and out of you, “you’re doing great so far, just relax for me,” you saw his free fingers sneak down to enclose around the apparatus’s knob once more, turning the speed further up.  
Feeling like you might fall off the table entirely, you panted, “doctor, I think something might be wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong, love,” he nearly chuckled, “this is how it’s supposed to feel,” smiling as you let go an uncontainable moan, knees nearly closing as you tumbled over the edge, “there it is, good, good…”
Expecting for the machine to be shut off, the doctor instead pushed your trembling knees aside and conjured a bulky ward-like device that buzzed in his tight grip, the other hand firm on your leg as he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive pearl, “ah! Doctor! What are you-”
“We’re not done yet,” he stated firmly, vision fixated on the mess he was turning you into. 
The squelching of your pussy cut through the loud buzzing of the gizmos, “but it’s too much, I can’t-”
“You wanna get better, don’t you?”
Fists tight in your dress, crumbled at your waist, you let out a shaky, “yes.”
“Then quit your whining and let me treat you,” his stare snapped up as he warned you, “if you keep that up then I’ll have no other choice but to restrain you, is that what you want?”
“N-no,” the overwhelming sensation caused you to tremble like a leaf. 
“Be a good girl and take it.”
When the second wave hit, it crashed into you so fiercely that you let out a lewd scream. 
“There you go, that’s it!” the doctor bellowed as your pussy gushed, crying out around the intense toys, “oh, fuck…” unable to peel his eyes away as he finally turned off the machines, additional juices squirting out as they withdrew. 
Limbs twitching, you hazily asked, “was that it? Are we done?”
Palming himself through his pants, his gaze stayed glued to your weeping core, “not quite yet, miss… that release of excess fluids was a very good sign, very good sign indeed, but we’re not quite done… there’s still more that needs to get out in order for your uterus to align itself again,” your eyes then flicked down to his fingers as they worked at the buttons on his slacks, swiftly freeing something much bigger than the apparatus he had just fucked you with. 
“Doctor?” your eyes grew as he stepped closer, rubbing his tip against you in a way that made your eyes flutter. 
Finally meeting your gaze, he uttered, “please, call me Aleksander,” before thrusting his hips forward, stretching you apart with his cock. Fingers digging into your thighs, he glanced back down and smirked, “I think your womb just needs a little reminder of where its home is,” before he slammed in, all the way, pushing the air out of your lungs as his balls nuzzled against you.
“Ah!”
“Just need to knock at its door a bit to call it home,” the tip of his generous length kissed your cervix with every rough thrust, borderline going too deep as you clambered around him, “that’s it, taking the treatment so well.”
Just as you had thought he had settled on a rhythm, he pulled the rug out from under you by suddenly withdrawing his girth entirely, spreading you apart so that he could watch how he made you gape, only to bury himself completely once again, repeating the cycle over and over, relishing in the way it drove you up the wall. 
“Fucking hell… I can feel it, you’re getting close, clamping around me like a desperate little whore,” he groaned, watching as after a few more breath-taking rounds, your pussy began to weep once again, “oh, there it is,” squirting out every time he retraced himself, “atta girl,” the fullness he then granted you only persuaded more to appear. 
When you were nothing more than a literal puddle in his grasp, Aleksander truly lost control, pounding into your trembling mess before he made it even more so, stuffing you full of his hot cum. 
Low groans still flowed from his lips as he retracted from you for good, the sensation of his seed trickling out of you and onto the exam table nearly going unnoticed from how exhausted the treatment had made you. 
“Was that it?” you asked weakly, “am I cured now?”
Tugging himself away as he caught his breath, he answered, “not completely,” glancing back up at you with a glint in his dark eyes, “I think you’re gonna have to come back a few more times …”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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ramp-it-up · 3 months ago
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Knock You Down: II
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Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down. Bucky has to answer some hard questions on date #2.
This is a follow up to Part I
Word count: 3 K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This fic was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts.
Part III will be posted on Sunday, 10/13. I think it will be the final part. 😓
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, daydreams of: oral sex (f receiving), marking, edging, & overstimulation. High potential for phone sex? Narrowly missed masturbation; a pet name in google translate Romanian; voice kink; drunk messaging/calling; Bucky has you under surveillance; AAAAngst. The heat is ramping up, but still no sex!
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
———-
Bucky woke with his lips tingling for want of you.
After your first date, sleep had been elusive. His thoughts of you led to a physical condition that he was used to taking care of right away, one way or another.
He decided that only you could solve his problem.
You had him as hard as a rock and Bucky knew that your soft curves were both the culprit and the cure
In his dreams, he had been eating you out, the smell in his nostrils a mix the your natural scent and perfume on your wrist as he went down on you. He couldn’t actually taste you, but he just knew that you were delicious.  
Knowing that he would be distracted all day, Bucky tried other means to work out his frustration. He got up, worked out, and concentrated on not being a simp. 
Unsuccessful.
At the stroke of 8 am Bucky sent you a good morning text and inquiring about your sleep. He hoped that your dreams were as full of him as his were of you.
Bucky chuckled as he pressed send. Good morning texts were not in his repertoire, quite the opposite. He was a pro in dodging follow up texts from his conquests.
After 10 minutes, he put his phone down, because he realized he was staring at it waiting for your response. In the shower, the stream of cold water was meant to calm the lava in his veins at the thought of you still asleep in bed. He needed to stop thinking of waking you up with his head between your legs because then his erection would never go down.
Back in his bedroom, Bucky saw that you had responded. His heart was in his throat at just the notification of not just a text, but an image sent on his screen. He had to sit down.
I had sweet dreams.
Image sent from Y/N
The image was a pic of you in your bed, hair tied back and no makeup. The morning sunlight on your skin was everything and the soft smile on your face looked so kissable.
It appeared that you were wearing a tank top. He could see your neck and the tiniest bit of cleavage, but it was enough to have him raging hard again. 
The highly rational urge to mark you up as a punishment for torturing him came to him like a bolt of lightning.
God, the thought of punishing, maybe edging you all day, or better yet, having you beg him to stop making you cum as he overstimulated you sent his hand to his dick under the towel, but his other hand was reaching for your contact. 
He groaned when he realized what he was doing. One hand had to stop. He wasn’t going to do this.
Bucky unhanded himself and sighed as your phone rang, then his stomach dropped as he realized you probably wouldn’t pick up. 
“Hullo? James?”
Your morning voice. The fantasy of how to wake you up took hold again.
“G-,” Bucky cleared his throat, but it didn’t help much.
“Good morning Frumoasă.”
Damn, his voice. Yeah. You had a voice kink. You felt the urge to ask for a picture of him.
And you knew where that would lead.
The rest of your day depended upon not revealing how much of a slut you were for him already, so you decided to crack a joke.
“Fumosa? What does that mean? You calling me fugly or something?”
Bucky laughed, and the sexual tension was broken. You were so fucking charming. He was definitely feeling you.
Bucky wanted to do so much more than to just be physical with you; he wanted to just be with you.
“Far from it, Y/N. Frumoasă means beautiful in Romanian. Ești foarte frumoasă. You are so beautiful.”
You could hear his smile as he replied.
“Hmmmm. Well. Good morning to you too, James. And thank you.”
Bucky smiled at his bedroom wall, reclining on his unmade bed, not caring that he would be late for work. But he was the boss, so it didn’t really matter. He wanted to hear that moan-hum thing you did again, so he repeated himself.
“Ești foarte frumoasă.” 
You were shook. When Bucky spoke in Romanian, his voice lowered an octave or two. It left you squirming.
You stifled another moan and Bucky shifted, his towel moving again.
This phone call was getting dangerous. 
“James…”
His heart beat double time when you said his name, as if you were asking for so much more than just his attention. One word from you and he would would make you see stars over the phone.
Damn, he was hard as a rock.
“Yes?”
The way his voice broke over that one little word left you speechless, trying to make a wise choice of words. Now was not the time for phone sex, no matter how much you wanted his voice to talk you through it. This man had you caught up, but you were trying to chill.
“See you in a few days.”
Bucky smiled again. You were constantly changing the game, a Queen to his Knight. But he was determined to capture you.
“See you in a few days frumoasă. I can’t wait. Have a great day.”
After that, you two stayed away from phone calls, subsisting on texts and anticipation for the next four days. 
But you couldn’t get away from thoughts of Bucky, especially since Nat showed up at your favorite coffee shop that morning. She claimed that she lived nearby while hinting that Bucky liked you a lot. You just smiled and tried to be enigmatic, not the blushing schoolgirl that you felt inside.
Hungry for more pictures of you, Bucky followed you on Instagram. You didn’t habitually reveal a lot of skin, but what he could see of you made him want more. 
You noticed his follow, (accompanied by several gossip rags) and took note as you blocked them and made your page private. James Barnes gave no fucks who knew about you. You smiled all day long at that knowledge.
On Wednesday, he noticed that you posted girl’s night out, apparently to celebrate your friend Sydney’s engagement.
You looked good, skin glowing, body giving, and those brown leather pants making him dizzy just by staring at them through a screen. He knew he’d be feral if he saw them in person.
Bucky fantasized all evening about you coming home to him that night.
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When Bucky liked the post your heart rate increased and you felt like you were in a race.
“I’m winning!” 
You whooped it up with your friends and ordered another bottle. That’s when you saw Sam out of the corner of your eye. You invited him over for drinks, much to the delight of your friends.
Your drunk text to Bucky when you got home and the following exchange had him grinning as he went to sleep that night. Friday evening would be interesting indeed.
You woke up Thursday morning, wondering why you had a picture of a shirtless Bucky Barnes as the lock screen on your phone.
Your eyes almost fell out of your head as you opened your messages and saw this exchange:
Hey James. I want to fuck your voice. Especially when you speak Romanian. 🫠
But I can’t fuck until date number 3 sooooo
*Voice memo from James
*Voice memo to James
Image sent from James
Thank you Daddy. 💋
You are welcome, Frumoasă. 😏
You threw your phone.
You called him Daddy????
And you told him about the three date rule.
You were out of control.
You immediately sent him another message.
Good Morning, James. I apologize for last night. Please, burn your phone and destroy all messages from me. Have a nice life. 🫣
Good morning, Frumoasă. Last night was harmless fun. 😉 Have a wonderful day. See you tomorrow evening.
You grinned because although you were embarrassed, he was right. And also because he was a chaotic, but harmless gentleman. He just gave you what you asked for and didn’t take advantage of the situation. And his left arm tattoo sleeve was sexy as fuck.
What a man.
——-
When Steve and Sam caught him staring your picture during an auction that morning, Bucky just grinned as his best friends razzed him. He realized that you were worth it as he serenely endured them busting his balls. 
Later that day Sydney sent you some very interesting articles about Bucky Barnes and his business and called to check up on you. Your heart sank as you assured her that you were okay and thanked her for being a friend.
There was a different vibe for you now; James Barnes might not be the perfect guy. But you tried not to overreact.
Everything that was posted online wasn’t necessarily true.
You decided to exercise to clear your head, but lo and behold, when you looked to your left at SoulCycle, there was Steve Rogers, Bucky’s best friend. You managed to dodge a conversation by rushing off to work.
You were looking forward to your date, because James Barnes had a lot of explaining to do.
—----
When Bucky picked you up on Friday, you opened the door and quickly retreated to get your coat and purse as soon as he entered.
“Hello James,” you said from across your living room. 
Buck couldn’t put his finger on what shifted, but something had. He raised his eyebrow at you as you stood out of his reach and he felt the chill in the air.
“Hello, Frumoasă.”
He didn’t hide his admiration at your dress as he bit his bottom lip, positive that he could probably just flip up the hem and slip his… Bucky forced his eyes back to yours.
Damn, he looked good in the brown suit and black crew neck shirt. His eyes were everything on those colors. You noticed him checking you out and you looked down at your mustard dress.
“I hope this is okay. I wore this to work. Got out a little later than I expected. Billie, my assistant, and I were setting up for the opening tomorrow.”
Bucky smiled.
“You look amazing. And I can’t wait to see the exhibit.”
You cleared your throat. 
“About that. Are you sure you want to come?”
Bucky narrowed his eyes at you.
“...Yes. We agreed when I conceded to your price on Monday. What’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing, we’ll talk about it later. Are you ready to go?”
Bucky let you have whatever space you were needing at the moment.
“Lead the way.”
You chose the venue of this second date, a Harlem Renaissance exhibit in the eponymous borough. Bucky remained the perfect gentleman, taking your hand as he helped you into the car, but keeping his distance as you rode uptown.
If it were not for his all consuming stares and the desire in his eyes, you would think he wasn’t attracted to you. But you couldn’t let your libido have you make a terrible decision. You were deep in thought the entire ride to Harlem.
—---
You were in awe of the exhibit as much Bucky was in awe of you. You caught him admiring you instead of the art more than once, but you just smiled and launched into a conversation about the pieces, discussing the merits of the exhibit.
“That’s very astute. So good. Beautiful and smart.”
Bucky’s proximity to you during your banter was not helping your resolve. His voice in your ear cooing praises was making you weak. But you had to be strong. When he took your hand again as you walked to dinner on Frederick Douglass Boulevard, the thousand butterflies which had taken residence in your stomach on Monday afternoon fluttered their wings. 
Damn. He had you down bad.
After you were seated, Bucky tried to break down the wall that you’d seemed to throw up between you.
“Alright, Frumoasă. Tell me. What is going on in that beautiful brain of yours? You’ve been in your head all night.”
You looked around, trying to avoid those perceptive blue eyes of his, and noticed that the rooftop terrace seemed to be deserted except for the two of you. You had been so caught up in your inner turmoil that you hadn’t noticed the surroundings.
“James…”
He was staring at you again, mouth open, and that tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“Yes, Frumoasă…”
“Did.. did you reserve this rooftop just for us?”
Bucky smiled and leaned back, clearly pleased with himself. He took a sip of wine before he answered.
“I may have called in a favor of the owner.”
“It’s Friday night! That is quite the feat.”
“Someone as striking as you deserves to be surrounded by beauty. Always.”
You shook your head at him.
“I’m serious James. I’m not your type. We come from two different worlds. You can have anyone you’d want. What would you want with me?”
Bucky sobered up, sensing your anxiety. He moved his chair closer to yours.
“I never make a promise that I can’t keep. And I don’t string women along. I try to make sure that everyone knows what it is with every encounter. Most women know that what happens is a one time thing.”
He stared at you with the ocean depths that were his eyes.
“And I hope you understand that you are not most women. Remember what I said Monday night?”
You nodded, remembering the rush of feelings and wild thoughts. 
“That was the first of many dates. I haven’t been on a second date in… I honestly don’t know how long.”
You digested what he was saying, really wanting to like him, and more. But you had to clear the elephant from the room.
“Speaking of honesty. What do you really do for a living, James?”
Bucky looked at you strangely.
“What do you mean? I-”
“James. You have one chance to tell me the truth.”
Bucky digested the look on your face; he knew you were serious.
“It seems that you have read some things. Or someone has said something to you.”
You shrugged and said, “Both.”
You were anxious and relieved that he didn’t insist on the lie.
“Okay. Then.”
He sighed and looked at you carefully with those eyes, giving you a minute. After he told you the truth, there would be no going back.
“I’ll give you the cliff notes version: 
When we moved to America when I was 10, my dad Jimmy fell into the family business, which was crime. He always expected me to take it over, training me from a young kid. Steve and I grew up together. Nat and Sam came along later. I dove in deep as soon as I was old enough and brought them with me, thinking that's what I wanted."
Bucky shook his head at his own miscalculation.
"It took five years to realize that it was no way to live. When my father died seven years ago, I could finally see a way out. I started the art business because it really is what I love, and I can divest myself of any connection to illegality be completely legitimate in a little over three more years.”
You sat back and crossed your arms. His explanation was too neat and tidy.
“You have a timeline to be done with crime?”
“I know it’s hard to believe, but yes. I had a ten year and a five year plan. I’m working the plan with the help of my friends. And I’m doing it for them as much as for me. And if I'm thinking about a future with someone...."
Bucky reached over and took your hand as he stared at you.
"I'd be doing it for my own family as well."
You wanted to melt, but remained strong, pulling your hand from his.
“So you’re saying you aren’t a dangerous man? That I won’t be putting my reputation, my employment, and my life on the line by dating you?”
Bucky sat back as you posed your questions. He had never had to consider them before. He had never ‘dated’ anyone before. He just got what he wanted and they were safe because he never saw them again.
But now that what he wanted was you, and for far more than a one night stand, he was terrified.
“Y/N. I told you. I won’t lie to you. Yes. I am still a dangerous man. And yes, being associated with me can be dangerous. But I want you, Frumoasă. And I will stop at nothing to protect you."
You saw the ferocity of his emotions and you thought of all of them these past few days.
“Nat, Sam, and Steve. Those weren’t coincidences. Were they?”
Bucky gave you a wry smile and dropped his gaze. His voice got soft, as if he were chastened.
“No. They weren’t coincidences.”
Suddenly, you felt stifled, that there was no air avaiable. Even though you were outside.
“I- I need to think. I want to go home.”
“Come. I’ll take you.”
You rose and stepped away from Bucky.
“No. I need some space. I‘ll call a rideshare…”
“Nonsense. Nico is outside. He will take you. I can call Steve to pick me up.”
You looked up into Bucky's sad eyes.
“O-Okay.”
You fought the urge to bury yourself in his arms, and in a few minutes, Bucky put you in the car and you were rolling toward Brooklyn before you realized it.
——-
It wasn’t until you were in your tank top and sweats on your couch having made your head hurt with all of the thoughts for an hour, when you realized you never ate dinner and were starving.
You sighed and picked up your phone.
In just about another hour, your favorite takeout was on its way, comfort for a tumultuous evening. When you answered your door, your stomach flipped at the delivery person clad in white t-shirt, grey sweats, and a backwards ball cap.
You smiled at Bucky.
He grinned back.
“So. Is this date number three, orrrrr?…”
You rolled your eyes at him.
“You can drop the food off in my kitchen. This way, James.”
You glanced at him over your shoulder, the heat in your gaze unmistakable.
Bucky smiled and thanked the heavens as he followed the sway of your hips into your home.
——-
Please let me know if you like it! 😊
Next part here.
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callme-holly · 10 months ago
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hiii! can u write headcannons for the greasers when you are on your period?
𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 [𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝.]
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𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - So sorry for my inconsistency when it comes to requests - I'm not working in any particular order but I will get to them all eventually! Anyway hope y'all enjoy and as always asks are still open for requests
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 901 words
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none
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Darry Curtis - 
Darry would be so caring towards you, oh my lord.
If you need something, you best believe he is going to get it for you, among many other things. 
If you’re suffering with bad cramps, he will gladly lay with you and hold you for as long as you need him to. 
If the boys are bugging you in any way, shape or form, he is telling them to lay off and keeping you as far away from them as possible. He knows how annoying they can be first hand and the last thing you need right now is them all up in your face. 
He will come home from work during his breaks just to check on you and make sure you have everything you need; heat pad, blankets, snacks, entertainment. 
Sodapop Curtis - 
Much like his brother, Soda is super caring and sweet. 
He will go out and buy you everything you could possibly need; chocolate, medicine, you name it, babe, he’s getting it for you. 
Will take hot baths and showers with you after work. 
This boy will cuddle with you all day if that was what you wanted, hell, he’d take the day off work just to spend time taking care of you. 
If you’ve got cramps, he feels super guilty. He hates seeing you in pain and hates knowing that he can’t help you even more. 
Strongly believes that kisses will “cure” you and will shower you with attention until you’re feeling slightly better. 
Ponyboy Curtis - 
Pony doesn’t know much about periods other than the fact that you can get pretty damn moody. 
He tries his hardest to understand what you’re going through, but eventually he freaks out and has to ask Darry for help. 
If you need him to get you something, he will go into the store with the full intention of buying only the items you requested only to panic and buy almost every single product he could find. 
If you’ve got bad cramps, he’ll do his best to make you feel better. He’ll do whatever you need him to do but, in the end, he’ll just lay down and read to you until you fall asleep. 
Johnny Cade - 
Johnny is the sweetest. 
He gets so concerned about you and hates seeing you in any sort of pain/discomfort. 
If you’re sad, he’s sad. 
You want him to get you something? Medicine, chocolate, blankets? No problem, sweetheart, just sit tight and he’ll get it in no time at all. 
If you’ve particularly irritable, he tends to stay out of the way for a little while. He doesn't wanna upset you and he also doesn’t wanna get yelled at by you. 
He’ll cuddle with you for ages. When I tell you he isn’t letting go until you do, I mean it. 
If you’ve got bad cramps, he’ll lay with you and rub your stomach until they pass. 
He’s also not opposed to running you a warm bath if that’s what helps you.
Dallas Winston - 
When I tell you this boy knows nothing about periods, I mean it. His knowledge is very limited; he knows you get pretty moody and that’s about it. 
He’ll try to stay out of your way the best he can because when you’re on your period you kind of scare him. 
Once you snapped at him for being a pain in the ass and he never tried to bug you again. Instead, he went to find the gang and was like “damn, women can be scary sometimes, man.” 
He definitely showers with you but for all the wrong reasons. 
If your cramps are particularly bad he’ll get you blankets and will sit with you until they pass.
Either that or he’ll panic and call Darry. He does not know how to deal with this shit. 
Is definitely the type of person to say “can’t you just hold it?” 
Steve Randle - 
He’ll either take you to work with him or take the day off so that you’re not alone. 
He’ll let you sit in his lap whilst he rubs your back and presses soft kisses to your lips and forehead.
He’s actually so sweet to you. 
Will gladly feed you chocolate cake (he might steal a few bites too). 
Much like Soda, he has no problem taking hot showers with you if that’s what helps you to relax.
He will bring back whatever you want from the DX, just ask him and he’ll get it for you. 
If your cramps are particularly bad, he’ll just hold you until they pass. His comforting skills aren’t the greatest but he tries his best and we love him for it <333
Two-Bit Mathews - 
He tries to stay out of your way if you’re particularly irritable. He learnt the hard way not to bug you when you’re on your period and he vowed never to tease you again. 
He’ll cuddle up with you on the couch and you two will just watch TV together. 
Much like Steve, he has no problem feeding you chocolate cake, although he might end up eating the vast majority of it. 
Will pepper your face with kisses, claiming that it’s the only cure to your discomfort. 
If your cramps are bad, he’ll get you a heat pack and will do anything in his will to make you feel better. It doesn’t matter how ridiculous your requests may be, he will do it for you. 
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𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!
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the-californicationist · 8 months ago
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Hiii
First of all I wanted to thank you for your amazing fics 🤩. They have become a part of my life and I can’t live without them anymore 🥹💖
Secondly, I wanted to ask about a fic if you would consider. 🫶
Price is injured in his thigh and we are a medic. When attending to the wound the tension rises and a little bit of teasing from our part? 😌
Also, Price can’t take us like he wants because of the wound but we can do 69?
Or maybe something more thrilling! I know you are the greatest in ideas and writing! ❤️‍🔥
Thank you a loooot. (*^3^)/~♡
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Do No Harm
After being shot in the leg, Captain Price is put on strict bed rest by his medic: you. When he threatens to break your orders, you decide to use your rank against him.
AO3 Link
TW: female reader, face fucking, hurt/comfort, come play
When the captain got shot, all hell broke loose. Ghost and Gaz retaliated swiftly, and the bomb that Soap rigged to blow the enemy encampment was more than a little overkill. The four of them had shown up back at your makeshift base, sweaty, bloody, and exhausted. 
“What happened?” You asked the tall lieutenant, searching his face as he removed the skull mask, looking for signs as to how serious it was. 
“He took a hit to the thigh. Dead bloody center,” the tall Brit rolled his captain over, the latter of whom let out a torrid string of curses and shouts, nasty enough to make you blush. 
You inspected the wound, but his clothing was in your way. Ripping your scissors out of your chest armor, you set to cutting him out of his trousers, and you tried not to let the panic get the best of you. 
The truth was that you were keeping a secret. You were sleeping with their captain. You and John had broken a series of rules (and furniture) over the past four months, enjoying each other in the most primal, carnal way. Every night that he was on base, he sneaked into your medbay, aching with something other than pain and searching for his cure. 
You knew it was wrong. It was so far beyond protocol that you wouldn’t be surprised if they court martialed you when they found out, but you didn’t care. You were addicted to him. When he was away for too long, you crawled through the hallways and out into the common rooms with a slick problem between your legs. Something only his fat cock and filthy mouth could solve. 
He was terrible with you. Nothing was off-limits. He used you like a toy, and his fervid want was enough to burn you alive. In the darkness, his grasping hands and hot breath scorched your skin, searing across your belly, pinching your nipples, playing in your lips, all for the express purpose of making you come. It was his favorite thing. By the sixth, the seventh, when you were begging him to squeeze his pulsing rod inside of you, pleading in whispered cries for him to fuck you, he would chuckle with a dark joy. Teasing you, calling you his pretty little plaything, reminding you that you were fully at his mercy. 
It was hard to see him like this, but you were good at your job, and luckily, the bullet had gone right into the muscle. No broken femur, no arterial damage. Your predator would live to hunt you another day. 
“I need everybody out. Come back in an hour,” you commanded. 
“Yes, ma’am,” Gaz replied, leading the others out of the clinic to debrief and regroup after a hard night. 
You sliced through his canvas pants, slipping the shears through the fabric to reveal his bare skin. He never wore any underwear, which you were always quick to rib him for. Then, you inspected the wound. They had packed it in the field, and as you removed the dressings, more and more blood pooled out of the hole, obscuring your view. You worked as fast as you could, administering as much anesthetic as you had on hand, knowing that it wasn’t enough. He was doing everything he could not to writhe in pain as you threw stitch after stitch. 
“Jus’ wanted to get me alone, didn’t ya?” He teased you through gritted teeth. His voice was weak, but he was feisty, which was a good sign. 
You smiled down at him, joking around,
“You know it. But, you’re lookin’ a little worse for wear today, Captain. Might have to get my fix somewhere else.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, grabbing the side of the table hard enough to make the metal frame whine when you hit a nerve with your needle, “Another man lays a fuckin’ hand on you, and he’ll wish he hadn’t.” 
“Can’t have you reopening this wound, John. I worked hard on these stitches.”
“How’m I gonna sneak in to see you tonight?” He looked up at you with softer eyes, a youthful gaze on his face. 
You pitied him, winking cheekily, 
“Might just have to keep you here for observation.”
His whole body relaxed then, relieved in a way you hadn’t expected. You had just been kidding around, but his reaction made you change your mind. If he felt better with you in your clinic, you’d add it to the orders. The last thing you needed was your headstrong man limping through the base just for a chance at some action. 
You finished up, cleaning the wound and surrounding skin, wiping down the rest of him as best you could. He was filthy, and the water in your bucket was full of sand by the time you were done. But, he still smelled like the sun and his sweat, and it was enough to make the animal part of your mind practically salver at the idea of how his skin must taste. The saltiness, full of his pheromones… you chastised yourself for even thinking about it. 
He was finally asleep, full of morphine and exhausted from his ordeal. Gaz popped back in, and you told him you’d be keeping their commander overnight. You thought you’d gotten away with your little game, but there was a knowing glint in the sergeant’s eye that told you he knew more than you thought. 
You tried not to stress about it. His men were loyal to him, and you knew they wouldn’t rat you out. But, still. You made a mental note to be more careful in the future. 
Your bedtime routine was short and easy. You slipped into some shorts and one of John’s abandoned tee shirts. Luckily, it looked like everyone else’s tee shirt, so no one was the wiser. You could always say you stole a larger one from the supply room. But, it smelled like him, and you slept like a rock when you wore it. 
You climbed into bed, and before you could even think about going to sleep, the ache between your legs reared its horny head, coaxing you to touch yourself, disguising itself as a tingle, an itch that needed to be scratched. As soon as your fingers pried apart your soft petals, you discovered the truth. You were soaking wet, and your core was hot like molten lead, giving your digits no resistance as you played with yourself, slipping them in and out of your slick folds. 
You heard a noise escape from your throat against your will, and you tried to hold it back, rolling your eyes from the slam of pleasure that rushed to your head. You were dizzy with want, and even though you tried to quiet the sound, you could hear your own wet flesh popping and sluicing with more and more of your precome, preparing you for an encounter you knew you couldn’t have. 
You came quickly, and without much warning, clenching down on nothing, biting your hand to keep from screaming for him. You peeked over your shoulder, and luckily, he hadn’t woken up. You thought about how nice it would feel to have his big body curled against you as you crashed into a deep slumber, the scent of your wet hand and his old shirt mixing together and lulling you to sleep. 
There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but when you woke, it was still dark. Your eyes darted over to the clinic table, and John was… missing?
You sat up with a start only to find him fully naked at the end of your bed, getting ready to crawl in beside you. 
“John!” You hissed, “What are you doing? You can’t be walking around.”
“Gotta have you, love. I’m so hard, it hurts.”
“You were shot in your fucking leg, Jonathan Price. Let me see the dressing.”
“Quit fussin’ over me, girl. C’mere,” he covered you with his body and grabbed your wrists, forcing you to lay beneath him, flat and vulnerable. He set to pulling away your clothes, making quick work of it, sighing raggedly when he felt your naked body beneath his own. 
But, he was in pain. You could see him adjusting and readjusting, trying to figure out how he could fuck you like he wanted to, unable to find a solution. 
“John,” you whispered, feeling his mouth on your neck, “We can’t. You’re going to hurt yourself. Don’t make me order you to stop.”
“I’m your commander,” he breathed, threatening you with his teeth, leaving a bruise on your sensitive skin. 
“Don’t…” you gasped as his fingers found your gooey center, “Don’t confuse your rank for my authority, Captain Price. You’re under my care.”
He glared at you, coming to a pause, leaving his fingers in you to play in your hole, gently pulsing in and out, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge, 
“You want me to stop? Hm?”
The more he teased you, the more hot slick collected on his hands, sticky and clear, covering his fingers and making him harden with every moment. 
Then, he took a sharp breath in through his nose, and paused, hiding his grimace in the crook of his arm. You canted your hips, removing his hand from you, fed up with his defiance, 
“John, that’s enough. If you make me restitch that wound, I will have to do it without drugs. We’re out of anesthetic.”
“Please, love,” he held you close to him, letting you feel his hard length as it rolled against your tummy, making a trail of precome across your skin, “I need you. I’ve missed you so bad. Lemme fuck you. Put my cock in you.”
“Hold on,” you shifted your body so that he would turn on his side. Then, you lay opposite him, your head laying at the foot of the bed, bringing you face to face with his swollen, hungry cock. 
In this position, you could suck him off, and he wouldn’t need to use his thigh. 
You licked your lips, trailing them across his cockhead, collecting his salty pearls of pleasure and wearing them like gloss, suckling from his tip as softly as you could just to taunt him further. 
“Ahhh, fuck…” His sigh was delicious. All of that pain and all of the stress that had made him so tense rushed out of him, making his skin pebble with bliss. 
Without hesitation, John bent his head, pulling your hips to his open mouth, and wrapping your leg under his arm, eating your pussy and groaning with a lurid, feral pleasure. 
The feeling of his soft lips and scruffy beard against your sensitive skin flung you into a spiral of pleasure. You could feel his warm tongue prodding and exploring through you, greedily splitting you to get to your hot, honeyed center. 
You wanted more of his taste, so you went to work, stretching your jaw to accommodate his girth, taking him deeper into your throat, using your tongue to trace a wet circle around his head when you needed to catch your breath, teasing him just beneath his foreskin. When you did, his cock throbbed for you, egging you on, eager to drip its load into your mouth. 
“Fuckin’ hell, love. Gonna make me come,” he threatened. 
Suddenly, you felt his fingers dip back inside of you. He was aggressive with his fondling, shoving two of his thick digits deep inside of you, curling them cruelly to press upon your most pliant, responsive spot. 
As he fucked you with his hand, he let his tongue lap against your clit, making you whine around his dick, muffled by his shaft. You felt his hips begin to thrust forward and back, desperately fucking your throat, getting closer and closer to releasing his orgasm inside of you. 
You couldn’t wait to taste him. You wanted him to use you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was — as hungry as he was for your body — you needed him just as badly. 
You felt your body begin to tense, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he would have you coming on his hands. He kept his pace, knowing your favorite rhythm, humming to himself as he devoured you, sucking up every drop of your wetness as if he’d never drink from your tight font again. 
Your toes curled, your legs tried to close in on themselves, stopped by his body trapped between them, and something snapped inside of your core, letting loose spiraling sparks of pleasure, breaking you apart over and over, only for each gentle lick from his tongue to put you back together. 
“Mmhm,” he praised you, “Good girl. Just like that. Rub your come on my mouth.”
You did as you were told, no longer in the driver’s seat when it came to your body, fully trained to submit to his will. You shamelessly smeared your pussy across his bearded jaw, humping lewdly against him, all for him to whisper gratefully between licks, 
“Yes, more. More. Give it to me. Fuck my mouth, love. Fuck, I love it. Fuck…”
All the while, he was thrusting into your mouth, deeper and deeper, choking you on his hardness. But, you let him. You allowed him to use you, holding onto his hips for dear life, breathing in every gap that he left, gasping for air, feeling yourself getting dizzy. 
“Are you ready for me?” He groaned, peering down at you between your bodies.
You moaned something you hoped sounded like a yes, and he turned his full attention towards you. You felt his fingers leave your pussy, only to wrap themselves through your hair, sticky and messy, making a strong, merciless grip at the base of your skull. 
He fucked you in earnest, then. It was gratifying to hear his satisfied grunts, and as you felt his cock swell even more, you knew he was about to come. Your mind wanted air, but your body wanted his load. You wanted to feel it slip into your  throat, hot and milky, pouring down your neck like a salacious prize. 
Finally, he went stock-still, and the only thing that moved was his cock. It throbbed inside of you, shooting rope after rope of heavy come down your tongue, painting your mouth white. 
He removed himself from you as quick as he could, pulling your head back up to your pillow, bringing you face to face with him, whispering in an animalistic tone, 
“Lemme see it, pretty girl. Open up. Let me… ahh, yes. That’s it.”
He dipped his finger into your mouth, gathering up his own orgasm onto the tip, smearing it around your lips like he was putting on your makeup. 
You were panting, gasping in the air you so desperately needed, and you tried not to swallow, gathering up as much of his foaming fluid on your tongue as you could, sticking it out for him, showing him what a good girl you could be. 
He took more of it onto his hand and dipped down between your legs, painting your swollen folds with his spend, mixing your come together like some ritual. 
You couldn’t help but whimper. You were overstimulated and raw, and he shushed you, bringing his hand back up to play with your soft nipples, 
“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s okay. Kiss me.”
You felt his mouth crash into yours, and your own heady taste invaded your senses, folding in with his, making your body roll itself against him, begging him for more. 
“Leg already feels better. C’mon, love. Give us the go ahead, hm?”
“I will tie you to this bed, John Price. Don’t test me,” you looked up at him before laying your head on his furry chest, breathing when he breathed, watching his hairy belly rise and fall. 
“Promise?” He chuckled, pulling you closer and holding you there all night, unwilling to compromise, claiming you in every way he knew how. You dozed against him, sated and happy, wondering how long you could keep a secret this good. 
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Sorry for the wait! Work is hellish right now, but as soon as this semester is over with, I'll be posting more. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts.
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