#i am NOT talking about the fuckin tank movies

[leonardoeatscarrots]

Harr harr

[partycatty]

older!johnny cage > overheard

you're caught in the act of swooning over your boss

notes: i'm not even fuckin playing i just woke up from my nap in a cold sweat with this idea haunting my mind so here i am. i truly honestly genuinely cannot stop thinking about dilf johnny and his thick fucking arms and how much i want him to [REDACTED]

[ masterlist ]

• during your break from training, you managed to squeeze in a meal break with one of your closest friends. it was just the two of you, laughing and for once breaking the stoicism implanted into your demeanors from training ruthlessly.

• "jesus, commander cage really kicked our asses today," your friend whined, rolling her shoulder. "i get we're fighting against demons and elementals, but did we really need to run twenty miles?"

• "it wasn't all bad," you shrug, poking at your food. "we've done worse, i feel."

• "oh hush, you had the time of your life," your friend groaned, lightly pushing into your shoulder with a smirk. "you and johnny cage got to run beside each other in formation." your friend was sure to say his name in an announcer voice, wiggling her fingers as she pretended to read a large sign.

• you huff, planting a fist on the table as you try to conceal your embarrassment with faux anger. "oh my god shut up..."

• your mind wanders to earlier in the day. johnny decided to wear only a tank top instead of a long sleeve with a vest, giving you a delicious view of his arms as they pumped during the run. while you two didn't talk, he shared panting encouragements by your side, telling you you were doing so good and how much further you had left. it made running feel almost impossible as each word and grunt knocked the wind from you.

• "jesus, look at you," your friend laughs at your dreamy expression as you replay the memory. "you're down bad, girl, anyone and their mother could tell."

• "is it that obvious?" you murmur, burying your face with your hands. "i'm doomed."

• "nah, you might have a shot," she insists, pulling your hands from your face. "he might be into younger women, most celebrities are."

• "but he's not just a celebrity, he's our superior," you whine, rolling your head back. "i just watch his movies and pretend i'm the love interest."

• "oh, it's bad bad," she laughs, looking past you for a moment. her smile falters.

• "can you blame me? ugh," you rake a hand through your hair. "he's all muscle, he could just pick me up and snap me like a twig! normally i'd settle for height alone but holy fuck he's built like a brick fucking wall!"

• your friend falls silent.

• "and don't even get me started on his age," you point an accusatory finger. "he is 50 something and so fucking fine i can't even bring myself to focus on literally anything ever. i watched some of his old movies, and he literally aged like the finest fucking wine any vineyard has ever even dreamed of making! thank god his daughter is the commander because if he stood around and told me what to do i'd behave so much like a dog it would embarrass me. he is the god damn devil in disguise and i sure a shit don't have a single chance of him even looking in my direction with any more than a smile because at the end of the day i'm just a sad little recruit crushing on a guy who probably has a massive di—"

• "i'm fifty-nine," you hear a low, horrifyingly familiar voice in your ear. you can't even bring yourself to turn around, smile dropping and eyes widening. the only thing you can bring yourself to do is stare across the table at your friend, who's as equally still. maybe if you were still enough, he wouldn't see you. like a dinosaur.

• "lieutenant," you breathe out after a long silence, drunk on the smell of his cologne. "we were just... t-talking about you."

• "oh yeah?" his voice is rumbly, a teasing inflection making you want to burst out in tears. you had a faint suspicion he was behind you the entire time, something he confirmed before you could muster the strength to speak. "sounded more like it was just you."

• "well," you wonder if you can outrun him, stammering as you try to talk yourself out of this. "you know..."

• you finally get the courage to spin in your chair, turning around to face him. he's towering over your sitting form, a shit-eating smirk on his lips.

• "i'm sorry, sir, i'll... i'll do extra push-ups, i'll go overtime on training, scrub the toilets, anything to—"

• he holds a hand up, waving it away as he shakes his head slowly.

• "don't stress it," he stands up straight, crossing his arms. oh my god his arms. "but, uh... just a word, in my office, when you have the chance." you almost miss the wink he sends at you, but you caught it just as he spun on his heel and walked out, a cocky sway to his hips.

• you spin back around, slack jawed at your friend, who's red from holding in her scream of excitement.

• "he's totally gonna bang you on his desk," she finally spits out, covering her mouth immediately after. you just lower your head, hitting it against the table in defeat.

• who knows what he's gonna do to you in his office?

[fruitzbat]

want to hear why you hated morbius

what I'm saying is probably what everyone has been saying more eloquently and comprehensively in the year since it came out, but I'm procrastinating on writing my own shit so I think I'll get into what leapt out at ME during the two hours of my life I lost to it a month ago:

First and largest strain on my suspension of disbelief would be right off the bat (hehe) in that Michael Morbius and Milo (Matt Smith, of the bad dancing clip fame) have a disease where they need to have their blood manually replaced (iirc) several times a day. The way that this manifests for them is weakness and having to walk around with canes or an IV pole at all times. Periodically, their machinery malfunctions and they pass out. Like, Michael can still be sent off to school in The Big City with some support (he needs his blood manually replaced, like his kidneys don't work), but Milo and one of Michael's later patients is basically bed/house-bound (they need their blood manually replaced, like their kidneys don't work). There is absolutely no fucking way that any of these people should even be alive, let alone, like, outside or going to school. The ramifications of not having the ability to filter your own blood? Like, a completely non-functioning liver or kidneys? What about the immune system, especially if you're talking about someone needing that many transfusions? Your body makes so much of it, and you need that replaced several times a day, and it seems to be an inborn disease so this is something that would need to be caught at once. Unfortunately, I think that this is one of those illnesses that kills you as a baby. I don't know enough about blood diseases to know how real this kind of illness might be, but I think the writers didn't either, which is a shame.

One of the big pressures on our boy Morb once he becomes a vampire is that his artificial blood that he invented, which is supposedly a 1:1 perfect match to human blood, isn't sufficiently nourishing him and he needs The Real Shit. This is never really elaborated upon.

The fucking hospital he works at has no funding to fix the goofy-ass serial killer hallways or to pay the nurses to run when one of their patients is going into shock, but has enough for Morb's fuckin vampire bat turret in his office, which is just THERE like a dentist's fish tank.

There's a public school across the street which only seems to house shithead pre-teens who come out to point at the "freaks" (read: effectively the cancer patients). Milo loses his special little origami note from Michael, the kids find it and he asks for it back, and these kids fucking jump him? for no reason?

Morbius starts morbing on people. His beautiful assistant has seemingly zero qualms about this. I mean, slay, who am I to judge, but this man will not fuck you. He doesn't know how.

The cops jump ALARMINGLY fast to the conclusion that it was vampires, given that this is a universe where the supernatural is arguably not the most prevalent presence in the daily lives of New Yorkers.

The cops in this in general. Wild, even for a superhero movie. One of them tries to do the whole fucking "handcuff flick" thing to Michael without anything resembling probable cause,

There is like absolutely zero setup for the conflict between Milo and Morbius within the context of their vampirism. Like, you could see the resentment from Milo when it came to the fact that Michael was the "favorite" and brilliant and madly successful etc, but the framing for their moral schism is minor if not nonexistent.

[arecipeforfeels]

Got high and decided I’m watching ca:tws so be ready for incoherence:

Marvel movies used to MEAN SOMETHING

They did however always live in the pocket of the military

I don’t care I would eat this movie if I could

They were so insane for it and they had to do civil war as the worlds worst no homo ever

HE DOESNT HAVE ANYONE AROUND THAT SHARES HIS EXPERIENCE COS HES LOST IN TIME

THE WHOLE MOVIE IS HIM BEING UNSUCCESSFULLY SET UP ON DATES

I hate everything

I also am not immune to an action sequence and some fun music….

Also it is very impressive how violent they can make these movies and completely get away with it if there’s no blood splatter

Bad guys r French, more at 10

I took a kickboxing class in like 2013 bc I thought black widow was hot and wanted to also be hot

(Sidenote, I also played basketball for five years bc of high school musical. I have never had an original thought in my life)

FIGHT SCENE NUMBER TWOOOOO

This is an iconic one cos it’s the one where he puts his shield on his back to fight for Even Footing (and also ON VA VOIR U WILL ALWAYS B FAMOUS)

people went so bonkers for that

Tag urself Im the giant harddrive

Okay goofiest admission ever: in this movie there’s a bunch of time spent in this one big building that’s supposedly located in dc. But it’s got this big giant atrium with a huge high steel and glass ceiling, and at some point during this movie someone hits it or crashes through it or shoots it. And every time I hear the words “glass ceiling” I think of this fuckin movie

CHEKHOVS ELEVATOR

“Wow yayyyyyyy war machiiiiiiime!! For sEcUriTy”

US Army wet dream while still trying to keep Cap there as a voice of reason

It’s a fascinating dichotomy

Air and spase! Museum (great night at the museum 3 reference)

Also I cannot believe he goes to his own fuckin exhibit

...actually upon reflection I too would go to my own exhibit

The endgame revisionism of him going back in time is soooooo stupid she does not exist to me

It’s such character assassination of everyone involved

(I don’t care, I say caringly, as I care deeply)

I also had (had??) a massive crush on Hailey atwell

Robert Redford is here

Weird joke about Algerians and the French

THERE IS AN ACTUAL COMPELLING CONVERSATION ABOUT PTSD

This movie is also a Chevy ad

Also I remember seeing the big SUVs in this movie and being like “damn those are tanks” they are also nothing compared to what’s out there now

This movie also feels so much more grounded in actual life

Like we talk abt all the CGI coming in later movies, this one feels gritty in comparison, on simply a mechanical level

Speed tour of dc

We have reached the civilian casualty stage of the movie

I can’t imagine how much money Samuel L Jackson has made off these movies

THE CAR FLIP SHOT W BUCKY IIIIIIIIII (editors note: this is where the coherence begins to go downhill. You can sense the trend)

god this movie

THE SHIELD CATCH IM EATING MY SHOES

Elevator scene lets fuckin goooooooooo

Let’s GOOOOOOOO

the tension build is so good

Everyone say thank u Steve rogers for breaking the glass ceiling

This movie is also an apple ad…2014

GUY WHO FULLY HITS ON STEVE AT THE APPLE STORE

Look the fuckin Natasha Steve bromance in this is lovely

Buddy comedy

I will say this was such a moment for the MCU, the hydra reveal

Esp cos like agents of shield was in its heyday etc etc

2014 sure was a time

This man [Toby Jones] has been so comically typecast forever

OPERATION PAPERCLIP CASUAL NAMEDROP

god

This is so fascinating to me Bc it’s like “Here is how we revisionize the United States’ history of interfering in coups etc etc it was bad guys in the government doing it etc etc”

“What we need to to is get back to the good government”

Sam Wilson the man that you are

Bucky shows up at any time in this fucking movie and I start barking

I am also always thinking of the “we shot him in ze legs” vine

This is my Roman Empire

“I knew him” oooouuuuugggHHHH

RIP Stan Lee

Bucky yeets a guy into a jet engine and by god does he look good doing it

This stupid movie (editors’s note: caught in a miasma of 2014)

[bellpeppersand-beef]

watched the movie in theaters last night!! It was really great ❤️ Some thoughts in no particular order:

I saw the dub with my sister and my bf, and then I went and saw the sub alone. The sub had deeper dialogue imo but it’s mostly the same, though every once in a while the voices dropped out? Like I think it was during the shogi scene, Jet’s voice was gone but the background audio was still there and the subtitles were still going, it was weird

when the opening theme played my sister turned to me and was like “wtf this isn’t tank?!?!” I was also surprised, but Ask DNA is a banger so I can forgive it

Faye chasing everyone around the room and jumping on Spike was cute. Luv these idiots

Bob and Jet’s little movie date was cute too. Also, they have 10000% kissed before on a particularly long, boring stakeout. They never speak of it tho, because they’re Men(TM)

The English voice actor for Samson did such a good job, tho I do wish they hadn’t changed his spiel in the car so much- in the Japanese version, he makes it clear he’s partnering up with Vincent and committing terrorism because it’s so much harder to become famous as a hacker than it used to be and he wants to be remembered, and in the English that isn’t as clear.

I also prefer Jet’s whole monologue to himself about the bebop crew’s relationship in Japanese, mostly because he says “it’s not like we’re a family” because it is like they’re a family, they’re just a very dysfunctional one

Vincent’s English VA reminded me of some of the VAs in Skyrim in a weird way that made it harder to take him seriously, but that’s not his fault

“I love a woman that can kick my ass” bitch me too, the fuck

“I don’t care about saving anyone, that’s not my job” press x to doubt

“We share the same soul. I have to see him again, one more time” Spike my love that is fuckin gay

Faye looks so much like a shrimp in that one scene where she’s tied up on the floor. Go look at it and tell me I’m wrong. Shrimp lookin ass

god I want that self-cooking ramen holy shit

okay so like. I thought that photo set I’ve seen on here before with a quote from True Detective on it was real and I was so confused when it wasn’t in the movie sdhdaghsgkl

wtf are Vincent’s hands made of that he can stab Spike with his goddamn fingers through his clothes??

I thought the guy pulling spike out of the water was Jesus for a fucking second 💀

Also, I thought laughing bull lived on TJ or Titan, what is he doing on mars? I suppose he might move around, tho

“I’m not waiting for a call from Spike or Faye, in fact I didn’t even notice they were gone bc I am a Man(TM) and I don’t care about them” *phone rings* “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN I’VE BEEN WORRIED SICK >:(” Jet my absolute idiot angel, please learn how to talk about your feelings

Poor Jet being so stressed out in the scene with the planes. This man deserves a vacation and also probably some high blood pressure medication

the bebop looks very phallic in that one scene in the beginning, and the hammerhead always looks phallic. why does jet own two penis ships? is he compensating for something, or does he just really like dicks? the world may never know (it’s both)

I like how they leaned harder into multiculturalism in the movie, like including lines in Arabic

the music was awesome, as always. what planet is this fuckin slaps, as does knockin on heavens door

highkey want that final shot of spike reaching for the butterfly and “are you living in the real world?” as a tattoo

we pretend we do not see the terrible transphobic stereotype in that one scene 😑😑😑😑😑

[yee-fxcking-haw]

What Are You?

A/N: All I have to say is I'm really proud of this fic, so much freaking fun to write. I am hopelessly devoted to Kirishima. Please let me know what you think! For the tags, I just tagged those that interacted with the post I made about starting this series, if you wanted added or removed just let me know!

Summary: A movie night gets a little out of hand, next thing you know you're losing your virginity to Kirishima.

Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima x FemReader (you) both aged up 18+

Warnings: First time, virginity loss, virgin reader, experienced Kirishima, LOTS of consent, oral (female receiving) size kink, daddy kink, rough sex, spanking, choking, belly buldge, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, degredation, dumbification if you squint, very mushy aftercare in the shower, I think that's all of them lmao.

Word Count: 9,304

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The movie you had started is long forgotten, the sounds fading into white noise as your eyelids drift shut. Your body feels like lead, and your brain is quickly turning off. You feel like you could melt into the bed and stay there for several days. You snuggle into Kirishima a little more, barely processing the contented hum he lets out when you do.

"You fallin' asleep sweetheart?" He mumbles against the top of your head, finishing his sentence with a gentle kiss.

"Nah, just resting my eyes." You lie, very aware of how quickly sleep is overtaking your exhausted body.

"Want me to drive you home?" He asks, one hand coming up so he can run his fingers through your hair.

You just shake your head weakly, not ready to remove yourself from his warmth. You really just want to stay, but you two haven't really crossed that line yet. You've been dating for a few months now, but you move painfully slow. You blame it on your lack of experience over all. Being a virgin in your first relationship has definitely come with a lot of caution and slow progress.

Kirishima has been absolutely incredible though, always letting you set the pace, always asking questions, and offering reassurance when needed. You've both definitely had some close calls though, with how much time you spend together and how irresistible he is, it's been hard to keep your hands off of him. You've had your fair share of handsy makeout sessions, but that's about it.

Today does feel a little different though, like there's been some kind of shift. Maybe it's the right time to take that next step, Kirishima has definitely proven himself to be worthy of your trust. You're confident that he would stop when needed, go as slow as you asked him to, and be there for you after.

As your mind races you wrap your arms around the wall of muscle beside you, cherishing the security his large body gives you. You sigh and shift your head so your chin is resting on his chest, allowing you to glance up at him. As always, you're floored by his beauty. His scarlet eyes meet yours as his lips twitch up into a fond smirk. He's definitely the rugged kind of handsome, small white scars litter his face from his few years of hero work.

The most noticeable scar is the one on his upper lip, about two inches in length as it travels up away from his pretty mouth. Your hand absentmindedly reaches up so you can run your thumb over it while you cup his face. He melts into your touch, turning to place a kiss on your palm. Your entire body lights up when he does, he's always giving you sweet little kisses, and you love it more than life itself.

"Whatcha lookin' at my busted face for?" He teases.

You smile coyly as you slide your leg around his hip, slowly bringing yourself up so you can straddle him. You slide your other hand up to hold his face as well, leaning down to press a kiss into his forehead.

"It's a beautiful face." You whisper as you sit back up so you can look down at him again.

God, the sight of him. Wild crimson hair falling across the pillow, stunning porcelain skin offering a marvelous contrast. Your hands slide down his neck, to his collar bones, then down his clothed torso. You mentally curse the black t-shirt that's currently hiding his skin from you, even though he looks incredible in it.

"What are you thinking about hon?" He asks quietly.

Your eyes flash up to his and he gives you a knowing look.

Does he feel it too? You've had plenty of long talks about it, he's always been open about how much he wants to make sure it's a safe experience. He offers you nothing but stability and assurance. The nerve wracking part is that he's so experienced. You're not jealous that he's been with people before you, just worried that you won't live up to them. Kiri has always been very open about his past relationships, just like you have with yours. It's just a matter of finding the confidence to take the next step.

"Oh, you're thinking too much." He says quietly, grabbing your hands to pull them apart.

You hadn't even realized you'd begun to pick at your thumb, but of course he's paying attention.

"Can I stay?" You blurt out, sounding a little too panicked.

"You can always stay." He says as he wraps his arms around your waist, then brings his mouth to press innocent kisses into your neck.

"Baby?" You say, hands carding through his hair.

He only hums, lips still working against your sensitive skin.

"Can we try?" You ask quietly.

Your eyes lock, tension builds, and hands tighten as you both silently understand your heavy implications.

"Are you sure?" He asks with all the sincerity he has.

"I love you, Kiri, I trust you." You breathe out, letting your head fall to rest your forehead against his own.

"If you need me to stop at any point you tell me, understand?" He says with a tone you can't quite decipher. It could be called firm, but that's not exactly right… convicted, he sounds convicted.

"Of course, Red." His body responds to his hero name in the most beautiful way. Muscles tense as he takes a deep breath in, steady arms pull your body towards his. Very suddenly, but some also not soon enough, your lips are on his. Brilliant, rose colored warmth spreads through your veins as he kisses the breath out of your lungs.

"Can I lay you on your back?" He asks against your lips.

"Please." You sigh.

In one swift movement, he scoops you into his arms and spins you around so he can lay you gently on the mattress. One hand stays on your waist, while the other comes up to hold your face.

"I love you, you know that right?" He asks, when you look into his eyes your heart aches when you see all the begging in them.

"Kiri, I've never been more sure of anything." You assure him.

He gives you his thousand watt smile and you can't help but return it. This man is something else. He's the kind that lights up a room, that gives when he's empty, and loves relentlessly. Most of all, he's completely, inexplicably yours.

Your head spins when he dips his head down to kiss your collar bones.

"I'm gonna get you real worked up, ok?" He says then presses one long kiss into your shoulder.

Excitement blasts through your veins. What a beautiful promise he's just made, and you can't wait for him to live up to his word.

"I need you to tell me what feels good." He whispers against your skin as his hands come up so push your tank top up your torso.

"Ok." You reply, cursing yourself for how basic the response is. He's probably used to people who can dirty talk like no tomorrow, and all you can manage are weak one word responses.

"You're thinkin' too much honey." He says with a deep chuckle, his hands halt once he has the fabric bunched at your ribs.

"Talk to me." He says.

"I'm just nervous. Insecurities and all that, worried I won't live up to other people. You know, stupid virgin thoughts." You stumble through the sentence, barely articulating the nerves buzzing around in your abdomen.

"Listen to me." Kiri says with his firm, guiding tone.

"It's just you now. Not them, never will be them again." He brings one of your hands up so he can kiss your knuckles.

"You're my girl, that's all that's on my mind."

The reassurance is short and sweet, but Kiri is always like that with his words. He says it like it is, but there's always immeasurable heart behind what he says, so it's enough to still your nerves.

"Can I make you feel good now?" He asks, face slightly mischievous.

"I think you know the answer." You can't help but giggle when his fingers meet your ribs again to finish taking off your tank top.

Soon he's got you panting and grasping at the sheets. Your clothes are long gone, and he is definitely staying true to his promise to get you worked up. Rough hands are on your waist, while his hot, wet mouth trails across the tops of your breasts. The more time he spends kissing your body, the easier it is to let the nerves die out. Every ounce of uncertainty vanishes the second his soft lips wrap around one of your nipples.

"Oh, baby." You sigh, back arching slightly.

"Like that?" He asks, breaking only briefly. Soon his mouth is back on you, tongue drawing lazy circles around your sensitive buds.

"Yeah…" You find yourself wishing you could respond better again, but your mind is mush.

"How bout this?" He asks as he slides his other hand up to pinch your other nipple.

You rub your thighs together to try and alleviate some of the pressure building in your core. You have to be embarrassingly soaked at this point. After just a few seconds of nipple play, you're already throbbing and it's maddening.

"Kiri." You groan, the friction of his fingers contrasting wonderfully with the smooth movements of his tongue.

You want to feel him everywhere, you want to be overwhelmed by him. The way his tongue is working, you can only imagine him using it somewhere else.

"K-kiri?" You say with a shuddering breath.

"Yeah angel?" He answers, his hand still playing with you a little.

"Lower, please?" Your voice is so shy and timid, and you feel the hot blush spread across your cheeks.

"You're so fuckin' cute." He mumbles before planting an open mouthed kiss between your breasts.

With the same slow, teasing pace, he kisses down your stomach. He stops right under your belly button and glances up at you through his lashes. He's fucking stunning from this angle, but you've found that he really doesn't have a bad angle.

"I'm gonna try something, ok? Tell me how it makes you feel." He says calmly.

"Aye Aye Captain." You say, earning a sweet little chuckle from Kiri.

Any motivation you have to joke is thrown out the window when he nips your sensitive skin. The brief pain sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, and your walls clench immediately.

"How was that?" He asks, hands running along your hips as he settles between your spread legs.

"More please." Is all you can squeak out.

Kirishima just smiles and kisses where he's just nipped.

"In a little bit baby."

You become suddenly aware of how exposed you are and you're plagued with thoughts of insecurity. As if he can read your mind, Kiri places a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Can I please taste you, your pussy is so fuckin pretty." He sighs against your skin.

Oh yeah, you have to be absolutely dripping. His words have you clenching around nothing, you're so worked up you're worried you might finish as soon as he makes contact with your core.

"Fuck- please Kiri- use your mouth on me." You moan, shocked by your own boldness.

"Oh good girl, keep talkin' to me." He sighs.

Without any further warning his mouth is just all over you. No gentle kisses around your clit like you expected, not teasing fingers on your lips. Just as sudden, blinding pleasure rocketing through your walls as his skilled tongue laps at your sensitive, swollen clit.

"Kiri! Shit!" You cry as your hands find a place in his hair, desperate to hold onto something that can keep you grounded.

"Baby, I'm too sensitive, I'm not gonna- oh fuuuuck." You try to warn him, but the words never stood a chance at leaving your mouth. In the middle of your sentence, he presses one thick finger into your slick hole, and that spells the end for you. With how big Kiri is, his finger might as well be the size of an average man's dick, and it feels incredible. You can't hold it in, and you don't fucking want to. Between the constant, white hot pleasure he's giving your clit, and the sudden intrusion of his finger, your inexperienced body never stood a chance.

"Fuck that was gorgeous." He huffs against your cunt.

Your walls flutter their way through your orgasm, warmth oozing into all of your appendages as Kirishima slows his tongue down enough for you to ride out all of the aftershocks.

You gather enough strength to look down at him, and your blissed out brain wants to shred the shirt he's wearing. Your hands reach down desperately to grab the collar of his shirt in an attempt to pull it off.

"Where'd my shy girl go?" He teases before helping you get rid of his bothersome clothes.

"She left when you made her cum in under a minute." You share a soft laugh with each other, but anything light-hearted disappears when you look down at his briefs and see the outline of his dick.

Kirishima isn't a small man, standing up he's roughly seven feet. You're a relatively average sized woman, but you still feel like a dwarf next to him. Judging by the outline in his underwear, he's definitely proportionate, and the terrifying realization that he's probably not even all the way hard yet makes your stomach drop.

"You want that?" He asks coyly, red eyebrows shooting up as he grins down at you.

"It- it's gonna hurt, isn't it?" You stutter, hands balling up the bedding underneath you.

"It's gonna sting just a little bit, but I told you I'll get you worked up, and it'll only last a second princess." He kisses your nose for reassurance, putting your bubbling chest at ease for a moment.

"Can I- um- can I touch you? Please?" Again, you want to kick yourself for sounding so bashful, but Kiri seems to be incredibly fond of it.

"Of course you can, wherever you want to." He whispers, he leans down to brace on his elbows, his breathtaking body closing the remaining distance between you two. With him looming above you like this, you feel absolutely tiny, like if he put his weight on you it might crush you. Something tells you tomorrow is probably going to consist of a lot of bed rest.

You cautiously slide your hands over his carved abs, adoring the way his muscles tense under your feathery touches. Your eyes stay locked on his and your heart blooms with exhilaration. Your hands travel down his body until your fingertips brush the waistband of his briefs. Kiri takes in a sharp breath when you dip your fingers under the material. You steal a glance down, and you can't help but let your jaw drop.

He's gotta be the size of your forearm, at least. Shit, how the hell are you gonna fucking take that? You remind yourself that Kiri promised it would only hurt for a second, that he would take care of you. You trust him, completely.

He helps you slide his briefs off, and when he's finally free it makes you see stars. His full length falls against your stomach, and he feels so damn heavy. His base is resting against your mound, and his head meets your belly button. His skin is nothing short of beautiful, soft pink tip with a pale shaft littered with veins.

"Holy shit." You pant, your hand looks pathetic when you go to wrap it around his swollen tip.

"It might sting more than a little." You whisper.

"I'll make it feel good, I promise." He says with all the confidence in the world.

He's so unbelievably hard and your hand can't reach all the way around him. There's about an inch and a half between your middle finger and thumb where they should meet. You never thought you'd be so intimidated by a simple body part, but then again, this is Red Riot you're dealing with.

Before you can stroke him, Kiri is grabbing your wrist as he shifts to lean on his side next to you.

"Next time angel, tonight's about you." He says before kissing the skin behind your ear.

His hand lets go of your wrist so he can skate his fingertips down your stomach. As soon as he brushes your clit your body jumps, still so sensitive from the sudden orgasm he's just given you. You take in deep breaths as your legs shift anxiously while he dips his fingers down so he can run them up your soaked lips.

"You're so wet for me." He sighs against your neck.

"Kiri- please- make me feel good again." You whimper, desperate for his touch.

"Gonna stretch you out a little bit, ok? Gotta get you ready to take me." He mumbles as he presses his middle finger into your quivering hole again.

There's no way you can respond, all ability to speak is stolen from you when he starts to pump his massive finger in and out of you.

There's no stretch with just one finger, it's no bigger than the toy you usually use on yourself, the stretch comes when he adds his index finger to the mix. It doesn't sting, but there's definitely some pressure. You screw your eyes shut and reach for his forewarn as he picks up speed, needing something to hold onto as the pleasure builds in your lower stomach again.

Then, the spectacular feeling of his thumb pressing against your clit makes you cry out. You're shocked by the broken moan that rips out of your throat, and the way your hips roll against his hand while he starts rubbing urgent circles against your sweet spot.

"That's it baby, tell me about it." He pants against your shoulder, it almost sounds like he's cheering you on, voice filled with something joyful that makes your heart race impossibly faster.

"Kiri- that feels so fucking good- shit."

Your cunt starts to pulse around him like it did a few minutes ago, your body is already right on the edge again by his capable fingers.

"D- da- Kiri." You moan, you almost fucking slip. You want nothing more than to call him 'daddy', that's what he is to you right now. You don't know how he'll respond to it, so you swallow the name and cry out against his broad chest.

He seems to have caught you though, both his thumb and his fingers pick up their speed slightly.

"Say it, please baby, say it- fuck." He begs against your head, offering you the room to call him whatever you want to.

Your hand claws at his arm, the other reaches up to hold onto his sweaty neck.

"Daddy, please make me cum again, your fingers feel so good." Your voice increases in pitch the more you beg, he sets a delicious rhythm then, reacting immediately to your pleas.

"You wanna be a good girl for me?" He asks as he shifts so his free hand can cradle your face.

You nod weakly as your abs starts to seize up and your core starts to clamp down on his pistoning fingers.

"Look at me." He huffs, your eyes flutter open to meet his.

Kirishima has a habit of knocking the wind out of you with his beauty, but he damn near kills you this time. He's positively enchanting with the blush on his cheeks, brows furrowed as he focuses on bringing you to your second orgasm.

"Cum for me one more time angel, then I'm gonna fill you up, gonna fuck your pretty little cunt." His voice is dripping with desire, and his vulgar words are all it takes to send you right into another trembling orgasm. Your body twitches and jerks as your core squeezes his fingers. He stops thrusting them into you and focuses all his energy on rubbing your clit with his thumb, making everything so much more intense.

You moan and shake against him as he whispers things like "good girl, just like that" against your ear while you come back down.

All you want is more, so much more. There's no such thing as nerves now. You have tunnel vision for Kiri and the pleasure he's giving you. Even after two orgasms, all you want is more, more, more.

"Daddy please- fuck my little cunt- fill me up like you promised." You grab at him wherever you can, you almost second guess your dirty talk, but Kiri eats that shit up.

"You sound so pretty begging for me princess. You want me to fuck you, huh? Want Daddy to make you cry?" Everything about his demeanor has a sense of urgency to it. Not like he's rushing, but like he's handling something vitally important.

You just nod and whimper, it's all you're capable of after being rocked by two incredible orgasms. He's moving so he can settle between your legs again, and his weighty length hits your stomach again.

"Listen to me sweetheart." He says, voice shaking slightly at the end.

"I'm gonna let you put it in ok? I want you to tell me when to move and when to stop, we can even stop here if you need to." He moves his hands to hold your face, thumbs brushing your cheek bones affectionately.

"I don't want you to stop, I want more Kiri, please." You say, completely confident in your decision to keep going.

"Then it's all you babygirl." He smiles down at you, all warmth and adoration.

You swallow thickly and reach down to grab his pink head, nearly drooling when you see the ridiculous amount of precum leaking out of his tip.

You tentatively spread it around with your thumb, the appendage barely stretches across the width of his massive cock. Kiri's breath speeds up above you as you move your hand around his head so you can push him down between your legs. Now, with a clear view of him, he's definitely the size of your forearm. Nerves are replaced by excitement, knowing that once he's inside you and your body adjusts to him, it'll feel absolutely amazing.

Kirishima shifts above you so he can brace on his hands as he placed them on either side of your face. All his intricate muscles shift under his pale skin, he's so broad and handsome, it makes your head spin.

With very little skill, you run his tip along you dripping lips, and both of you jolt as the erotic contact.

"That feels good baby, nice and slow." His words egg you on, a fuzzy feeling buzzes around in your chest when you hear him praise you, it's something else you just want more of.

His head teases over your silky hole as you slide him further down, his fingers definitely got you worked up, but it's still gonna be one hell of a tight fit.

"Can you- um- could you move your hips forward a little?" You ask with a shaking voice, your body is sparking with the anticipation of having him fill you, and you know he won't be able to slide in unless he helps by pushing.

"Want me to help you put it in?" He asks, his voice sounds so light and breathy.

"Please?" You blink up at him.

"Just keep talkin' to me, yeah?" He pants out.

"Ye- Oh fuck Daddy!" What's meant to be a quiet answer, turns into an erotic cry. Your body shivers as the name slips from your lips and your hands fly to his sides. He didn't give you a single second to respond before pressing himself into you, and it definitely hurts more than a little. The sting of the stretch is almost enough to make you tap out, but then you feel his thumb dragging against your clit again. It gives you just enough pleasurable relief to catch your breath.

"Sorry angel, had to get that part over with." He says before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Red, baby, please-" You choke on a moan when his thumb speeds up and he presses even more of his length into you.

"Please what?" He teases.

He can't even be a third of the way in, and you feel like you're completely stuffed. Your walls are being stretched to what feels like their absolute limit. Now you know why he gave you two orgasms beforehand, you need to be absolutely drenched in order to take him. Even then, it's almost impossible.

You glance down to see how much more you have to take. Fucking hell, it looks like it's just his head that's in.

"Tell me what you need, gorgeous." He applies slightly more pressure to your clit, but slows the pace down.

"More." You mewl, despite the pressure on your poor, tense insides.

"I'll tell you if it's too much, just keep going, please Daddy." Your hands paw at his back, desperate for him to move.

"Fuck baby- you're gonna be such a mess by the time I'm done with you."

You don't have any time at all to catch your breath or answer him. The sting is almost blazing as he pushes his hips towards yours. The dizzying sensation of his veiny cock dragging against your slick walls is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You whimper and sniffle beneath him while every muscle in your body tenses.

Then, you remember to breathe. You pull in a long, cooling breath, and on the release let your muscles relax. You look up at Kiri to see him looking down to where your bodies meet, mesmerized by the way he's splitting you open. He looks so wrapped up in his love for you, which only allows you to let go of more tension.

He keeps pressing into you, little by little pain is replaced by a warm ache, that warm ache then replaced by traces of something pleasurable. The hand pressing lazy circles into your clit slides up to grab your wrist. His bright eyes flash up to your as he brings your hand down to the bundle of nerves.

"Rub it for me, baby." He whispers before kissing your temple, his deep, rumbling voice makes your thighs squeeze his hips.

"O- ok." You fumble your words slightly.

"Is that how you answer Daddy?" He trails his open mouth down to the skin just above your collarbone, then teases the delicate skin with his pointed teeth.

Holy shit.

"Yes- yes sir?" You say, head spinning as you try to focus even a little bit. Your hand haplessly moves against your clit, wanting to listen but your motor skills are rendered useless by Kiri's dominance.

"Mhm, good girl." He praises before sinking his teeth into the spot he's been teasing.

Your entire body jumps, reacting exactly how he wants you to. All twitches and moans as he guides you through this.

"You're so fucking tight." He sighs, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes in just a little more.

"Well yeah, you're the size of a house and I'm a virgin." You say with a weak laugh.

If you and Kiri can do anything, it's laugh.

He looks down at you and raises his eyebrows, and he can't help but giggle in that beautiful chirpy way he always does. You take his hands in your face and bring him down for a messy, laugh filled kiss. Blinding love fills your chest, hearing him laugh, feeling him breathe, being this close. It's all giving you such unparalleled joy.

He breaks the kiss to press his forehead into yours, then he really starts moving. What started as another round of giggles turns into a moan as he stretches you more and more. Your hands grab onto his neck as your eyes screw shut and your head is thrown back into the pillows. The pressure is positively mind numbing in the best way. All you can feel, smell, and taste is Kirishima as he rocks your world.

“Fucking hell, Kiri.” You gasp before rolling your hips up against him, finally feeling somewhat stretched out enough to work with him.

“Oh now you’re gettin’ it, keep movin’ with me sweetheart.” He nods his head while he talks, urgent and reassuring.

He continues his glacial pace, finally bottoming out with the help of your needy hips rising to meet his. God, you feel so fucking full. You swear you can feel him in your stomach, in your ribs, in your throat even. He’s not leaving a single inch of you untouched, and you’re absolutely hooked. You gather yourself enough to open your eyes again so you can look down at where you two meet, almost nervous to find that he really isn’t all the way in even though you feel like you’re going to break at any second.

“Holy. Shit.” As soon as you glance down, your eyes meet the most erotic sight you’ve ever witnessed. There’s a large bulge in your stomach, that is very obviously caused by one thing. Kiri smirks above you as he runs a hand up your side so he can gather your breast in his hand and tease your nipple with his thumb.

“Ain’t that somethin’?” He muses, sliding his hand back down to grab your wrist so he can move your hand over the stretched out part of your stomach.

“Feels good doesn’t it baby? I’m right there, that’s all me.” He presses your hand into the bulge, and the feeling of his head under your skin, combined with the pressure on your cervix and against your walls, nearly sends you into another orgasm. Your walls flutter around him as your bottom lip quivers.

That’s when you see the tension in his body, you hear the strain in his voice. He’s holding back, he’s going easy on you.

Your walls are relaxing, growing used to the obscene stretch. You take a deep breath and focus on releasing any other muscles that might make it harder for him to do what he needs to. As you settle, you bat your eyelashes at him. You offer another small roll of your hips before egging him on with your needy words.

“Daddy, please, you’re not gonna break me, fuck me like you want to.”

He gives you a very serious, almost stern look. It doesn’t help ease your need for him in the slightest, it only makes you want to push more.

“I’ll tell you if it hurts, I promise, please just fuck me."

His whole body shivers when you run your nails across his shoulders.

"Baby you gotta, if you don't tell me I'm gonna keep rockin', I don't want to hurt you."

You nod and swallow thickly, your body is absolutely buzzing with the anticipation.

"Words sweet thing, use your words. You'll tell me if it hurts, yeah?" He brings his hips back, and the drag of his cock along your walls is exquisite. He only moves maybe an inch, but the tease sends you reeling.

"Yes Daddy, I'll tell you." Your promise is said so sweetly, the way you trust him so completely sends him over the edge.

Just like that, your entire world shatters. He pulls back slowly, just to send his hips flying forward with one brutal thrust. It doesn't hurt, but there's so much fucking pressure once he's all the way pressed in. Your head is sent back into the pillows, thrashing wildly as you cry out and cling to his tense back. He doesn't stay there long though, only pausing briefly to savor the feeling of being fully wrapped in your hot, wet cunt.

"Open those legs for me princess." Kiri pants above you as he pulls back again.

You realize how much you've tensed up after his words pull you back down to earth. Your thighs had clamped around his hips like a vice. Slowly, you breathe in, then drop your legs open when you breathe out.

Then he sticks to his promise, and he starts rockin'. He sets a beautiful pace, it's not rushed or hard, not slow or teasing, it's just fucking perfect. He plunges into you over and over, deep and persistent. He hits every sweet spot you have, from your sensitive opening to your aching cervix. You mewl and twitch under him, your whole body being jolted every time he bottoms out.

"You're doin' so good baby, bein' such a good girl for Daddy." His voice breaks as he picks up speed, splitting you open completely.

It's turning your brain to total mush, all you can manage is a half ass "uh-huh" while your body moves like a ragdoll. You feel so full, and it feels so fucking good. It's all so foreign, so much, so overwhelming. Now that you're feeling it though, the feeling of being well and truly fucked, all you want is more.

The pressure just keeps building at your core, brilliant and warm. Sending electric shocks down the nerves in your legs, up your stomach, even through your fingertips. He's everywhere inside you, filling your mind and soul, you're drunk on Kirishima and more than willing to become addicted.

You blink open and grapple at his damp sides, as soon as you see your body being pounded into the bed, you feel your walls begin to tighten. Can you even call it that? You're so stretched out by him it's hard to tell if you're even capable of tightening around him.

Kiri sure seems to notice though, letting out short, pretty moans from the back of his throat each time he sinks in. Then you both see it, your eyes lock on it, both under a perverted trance. Each time he thrusts all the way in, your stomach buldges out a little, his incredible size displacing your insides as he fucks into you.

"God that's- fuck baby- you see that?" He stutters out, placing his massive hand on your waist so he can lay his thumb over your stomach and feel his cock head poking out from inside of you.

All you can do is gawk up at him and let your body be jostled by him as he continues to break in your body.

"How's it feel angel?" He asks, voice gentle and coaxing.

"So. Good. Daddy- fuck." You stutter out, the words come out choppy, cut off as you jolt from his pace.

"You feel so perfect, so fucking perfect." He mutters before diving down to press his open mouth to your neck.

He attempts to kiss you there, but all he can manage is a sloppy, inconsistent tongue against your skin. With his mouth open, you can hear all his sweet moans unabashed, and it's fucking beautiful.

A particularly broken sounding moan reaches your ears as Kiri grabs the meat of your thighs with his strong hands, angling your legs upwards a little more. His hands slide up to secure themselves under your knees, pressing them upwards he successfully folds you in half.

The tops of your thighs press into your sides as he braces himself up a little more, using your crumbled body as leverage. The second he sinks in from this new position, your thighs tremble and your cunt spasms. You cry out as your hands fly to his abs, almost pushing him back, overwhelmed by the intensity.

Overwhelmed, but so enraptured. Tears prick your eyes as you watch every muscle of his ripple as he works hard to fuck you this relentlessly.

"Talk to me sweetheart, how's it feel?" He asks, voice strained and unsteady.

"Feels- so- fuckin- good- Daddy." You all but sob, blinking the tears from your eyes as your jaw drops.

"You're such a good little girl, you look so pretty on your back."

His words hit a nerve you didn't know you had. The filthy praise, the sounds of his hot skin slapping yours with each thrust, the crushing grip he has on you, it's all awakening something deep in your chest. More, you need more.

"M-more- fuck- please give me more- I'm so close." Is all you can manage as the tears start to fall, wetting your rosey cheeks.

"Shit- give it to me baby, let go, I'll fuck you through it, just let go." He eggs you on. One of his arms shifts to hook your knee over his elbow as he sets the other beside your head to brace himself.

As soon as he releases that one leg, bending the other up even more as his thumb gets to work drawing figure eights on your clit, it's fucking over. You shiver and sob and claw. The most spectacular sensation you've ever felt takes over your entire body.

It captures every inch of your skin, wrapping it in velvety ecstasy. Your nerves shatter like glass, sending shards of pleasure flying in every direction. You can feel it up your spin, in the backs of your legs, and deep down in your chest.

Your body goes limp as your walls pulse around him, and he sure does fuck you through it. Your head flops back as you take it all, cherishing every sharp hit to your abused cervix.

"Gimme one more princess, I'm almost there." He moans, pulling your brain out of its stew.

You blink up at him, finally realizing how hard you're crying. As soon as you make eye contact, your heart nearly flies out of your ribcage. He's so fucking beautiful. Brows drawn together in a look of pure determination, skin dewy and flushed, bright ruby eyes looking at you like you hung the stars.

"I love you- fuck Kiri- I love you, I love you, I love you." You babble, hands sliding up tangle in the hair at the back of his head.

His eyes flutter at the sensation, nearly rolling back into his head. Kirishima is a slut for gentle touches like that, a trait that makes your heart go all gooey.

"I love you so much more angel." He sighs, eyes full of fondness and what you can only describe as home.

He's still fucking going. Pounding into you just as before, and your cunt is somehow taking it so well. You feel made for him, nobody else.

"Poor baby." He says as he brings a hand up to your cheek to wipe some tears.

The slight mocking tone sets a fire in your belly, another feeling to add to the endless list of things you're learning about yourself tonight.

"Did Daddy fuck you too good? Can't help but fuckin' cry about it?" His voice is back to straining, shoulders drawing up again, like he's trying to hold back.

Oh hell no.

"Y- yes Daddy, fucked me so good, you ruined this little pussy." You shock yourself with the vulgarity of your words, almost embarrassed by it. It's short lived though, given the way Kiri huffs out a gorgeous, "oh fuck", as he buckels down on his thrust even more.

The sparks start to fire again as your nerves wind back up, not even fully recovered from your last orgasm.

The hand on your cheek twitches down, but halts once his thumb presses into your jaw. It all clicks when he looks into your eyes, a silent plea in them.

You don't waste a single second, nodding frantically as you seize his wrist. You bring his hand down so he can rest his palm against your throat.

"Please, I want it." You beg with a pathetic voice, sniffling at the end as more tears fall when you feel your walls start to contract again.

He looks almost relieved, eyebrows relaxing on his scrunched face as his shoulders drop. He tentatively presses his large thumb into your pulse before speaking with a harsh, authoritative voice. His hips slow only slightly, more rolling than thrusting now, but still just as deep, still just as jolting.

"If it's too much, at any point, you tap me three times, let me see you do it."

You offer three pats against the forearm of the hand on your throat, gazing up at him with pleading eyes, desperate for approval. Obviously, you've never done anything like this. Nothing even close, but with Kiri looking at you like you're made of porcelain, you'd trust him enough to try anything.

"Good fuckin' girl." His voice drops, a powerful, deep rumble as his hips start to work up speed again.

The hand teasing your throat starts to tighten, but not how you expect. There's little to no pressure on your actual throat, most of it is on the sides. His grip cuts off the blood flow enough to give you a wonderful, delirious feeling in your head. Your whole body reacts to the exhilarating sensation. You can't help but let out a strangled moan once Kiri reaches his previous pace once again.

He fucks into you so intently, chasing his own release now. Your muscles start to seize again, walls twitching as you moan out nonsense praises below him.

"Little baby likes bein' choked, huh?" He taunts, releasing his grip just enough for your head to fill up with clarity again.

Then it clicks, he's allowing you to respond, he wants you to.

"I do, I fuckin' love it." You assure him, your voice doesn't even sound like you anymore. All whiney and wanton, full of lust and desperation. That greedy feeling scratches at your insides again. It fills your chest with white hot need for something rougher, nastier, more shameful.

"Be mean to me, Daddy, make me your bitch."

It all happens so incredibly fast. Suddenly, Kiri fucking growls down at you as he rips himself from your overworked hole. The absence of his massive length makes you cry out, you want to argue but your words are stolen from you by his next move. His hands are on your waist in the blink of an eye. He flips you onto your stomach, the speed of the rotation makes you instantly dizzy.

He straddles the backs of your thighs. Rough, selfish hands slide up the backs of your thighs. He gathers the fat of your ass in his palms and squeezes, letting out a low chuckle when you jump at the harsh feeling.

"So, you wanna be my bitch?" He asks, the tone of his voice sends a chill down your spine. He sounds almost… sadistic?

You don't get a chance to answer before his palm cracks across your ass cheek.

You yelp and whip your head around to give him a pouting look as you wipe more of your tears. The sight of him makes your dripping pussy clench around nothing.

He's sat back on your thighs, almost lazily. He isn't truly sitting on you, though, he would absolutely crush you. He's just braced over you, one hand stroking his glistening cock as the other kneads as your plush ass.

You just nod as your hands stretch out in front of you, grasping at the pillows, the sheets, the headboard, anything you can get a hold of.

His eyes are wild, strands of scarlet hair stick to his forehead with sweat. His stunning, chiseled muscles all flex as he pumps himself. Seeing him like this, it hits that rebellious nerve. There's no such thing as first time nerves now, your Kirishima's bitch, and that's all you want to be.

"Please, give it to me Big Daddy." You bat your eyelashes and bring your thumb to your mouth so you can bite down on it.

His hand freezes, body rigid with what must be shock. The hand on your ass slides up your back at a torturous pace. Buzzing anticipation settles in your gut as he leans down so he can spread his finger through the hair at the back of your head. Gathering a handful, he tightens his grip so he can crank your head back.

The bite at your scalp distracts you just long enough for him to press his broad tip against your quivering hole again.

"You think you're cute, don't you?" He says, low and dangerous.

   You just blink at him, brain firing wildly to try and process every new addiction you're developing. Slowly, cautiously, you shake your head.

   "Oh but baby…" He leans down even more so he can press his lips under your ear. 

  "You are. You think you can say something like that and get away with it. It's adorable."   As he talks, he presses his length into you. You would think that after being fucked for so long that your hole would have been more prepared for him. You're so fucking wrong. The stretch is just like it was when he first put it in, but this time you're so ready for it, you welcome it.

  "When you talk like that, you're gonna get your shit rocked." He mumbles against your ear.

   You feel his hands at your hips, then you feel him hoist you up so your ass is in the air and your face is in the pillows. Then, all you feel is a shockwave of pleasure as he rams into you from behind. Within seconds, he has you squirming and screaming as he decimates your cunt over and over again.

   The hand buried in your hair pulls your head to the side so you can moan out into the air instead of into the pillows.

   "What are you?" He asks, the hand that isn't in your hair snakes around your waist so he can bring your torso up and press your back against his chest.

   The action has you reeling, because your knees lift off the bed in order for you to be high enough to be fucked in this position. That's not a problem for Kiri though, he easily holds you up with the arm around your waist. Your legs dangle as he falls forward, other hand leaving hair so he can brace on the headboard.

   "Daddy asked you a question." He pants against your ear. Hips still snapping into you impossibly fast.

   "I'm your bitch- fucking hell- I'm your little bitch." You cry out, tears falling as one arm flies to hold the back of his neck as the other grabs at the arm around your waist.

   His fingers bite your side as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. He moans as he soothes the mark with his hot tongue. 

  "That's right, you like it don't you? You like bein' a little cry baby for this fucking cock. Don't you baby?" His words are dripping with the most sinful tone, even without any attention to your clit, your cunt starts to dance around him once again. Just his voice, his voice and his nasty praises are enough to start another fucking orgasm.

   "Oh I fuckin felt that- You really do want me to be mean, huh?"

   "Please- oh fuck- please, Daddy, please!" You sob.

  "'Please, Daddy, please.'" He says with a mocking tone, "I told you to use your words, brat." That does it, "brat", something clicks within you. It fills you with a sticky, sweet feeling. It's something more intriguing than anything else you've felt. Whatever the feeling  is, you're absolutely starving for more of it.

   "Use me, please, use my little hole, let me feel you cum." You finally conjure a reply, digging it up from your newly found well of obscene phrases.

   "Shit, princess, I'm gonna- fuck-"

   Your filthy words seem to be enough to send him into a frenzy. Again his hands are on your waist, pulling out just long enough to flip you onto your back before he plunges back into you after your back hits the mattress.

   He's so rough and fast now, all desperate, harsh hands as he fucks and fucks and fucks.

   "Look at me, fucking look at me." He grabs your jaw, eyes full of feral desire.

   "I'm gonna fill you up, you're gonna take all of it aren't you? 'Cause you're a good little slut." He commands before letting his other hand fly to your clit as you nod and stutter out promises that you'll do as he says.

   As soon as his fingers start rubbing, your body seizes. Your eyes stay on his, nails scratching down his back as you cry and shake and writhe.

   "That's it- fuck yeah- that pussy's gonna make me cum- you're gonna make me fuckin' cum- SHIT!" His voice breaks at the end, a crackling shout as his hips falter and he sinks all the way into your silky walls.

   Your eyes stay locked on each other's, he drops his forehead onto yours. The hand grasping your jaw moves to cup your face, his other hand coming up to mirror it so he can cradle your head.

   This orgasm is much softer than the others, all fuzzy and warm as it oozes through your limbs. Kiri rolls his hips into you as his cock spits hot cum deep inside of you. You both shutter and moan, hands loosening you finally feel him fill you up. Something you should have probably expected, is just how much he cums. He pulses again and again and again as your walls massage him. He fills you so much that he leaks out around himself, inevitably ruining the sheets beneath you both.

   The feeling is foreign, briefly uncomfortable, but it quickly becomes a comfort. As your bodies calm, his hips still with one final gush into you. His thumbs rub your cheeks, wiping the remaining tears.

   "You ok?" He asks with a scratchy, tender voice.

   "Perfect, baby, that was perfect." You sigh as you pull him down for a kiss.

   It's slow and feather soft, your lips work so reverently against each other, thankful for everything you've both shared.

   He inches his hips back so he can pull his softening length out of you. Both of you shiver once he's all the way out, then you feel the mess he made inside you spill onto the bed.

   "I should probably go get cleaned up…" You say as your cheeks heat, not at all prepared for what happens after something so intense.

   He just looks at you like you're growing a second head.

   "Princess, I'm gonna take care of that." He assures you.

   Before you can argue, he's got you scooped up into his arms. He carries you off to the bathroom, completely abandoning the wreck you've left on your bed. You wrap your legs around his waist the best you can and bury your face into his neck. You feel strangely dependent and needy. You suppose that must be normal after something like that.

   Once you're in the bathroom, he steps into the shower. He secures you with one arm around your waist so he can flip the water on with the other.

   You try to ease yourself down from him, but the second you move your legs you're made aware of the powerful ache in your center. Standing might not be an option right now, or tomorrow.

  "I gotcha, baby, don't worry." He says before kissing your temple.

   You don't answer, just hold onto him nuzzle into his strong chest.

   The shower is filled with gentle kisses and an abundance of sugary words. He tells you how well you did, thanks you for trusting him, kisses the parts that hurt. He makes you feel so explicitly loved, so abundantly cherished. It feels your heart with syrupy fondness. It's all so blurry, but all so distinct. Every soothing touch as he washes you lures you further and further into a state of complete relaxation. He puts lotion all over you afterwards, making sure he's careful with the tender spots. Soon you're wrapped in a plush towel, perched on the counter as he combs your damp hair.

   You let out a long sigh at the cathartic feeling, then lean forward to kiss collar bone. You rest your chin on his chest and look up at him. You snake your arms around his waist and pull his huge frame between your legs. He sets the comb down before bringing his hands up to hold the sides of your head.

   "You're my sweet girl, you know that right?" He says, his voice barely above a whisper.

   You nod and give him a soft "mhm" as you press your lips into the opposite collar bone.

   "Words please?" He asks, gentle and guiding.

   Your brain is still so incredibly foggy, you're having a horrible time trying to scrounge up any coherent phrases.

   One of his hands slides down the side of your face until it settles under your jaw, with the pad of his thumb against your chin and his index finger under your jaw, he tilts your head up so you have to meet his eyes.

   "What are you?" His eyebrows raise slightly, eyes full of adoration.

   "I'm your sweet girl." You somehow manage the admission with a hoarse voice.

   "Perfect, don't ever forget that." He kisses the top of your head then, breathing in as he pulls you against him even more.

   You love Kirishima, and he loves you. You both feel it in your bones. He has all of you now, and you feel like you have all of him. Regardless of past sexual experience, you've both given each other something new to cherish and learn about.

    "Let's get you to bed." He says before attempting to scoop you up again.

   "Uh- Kiri?" You say, pressing your hands to his chest to stop him.

  "Hm?"

   "I'm kinda hungry…" You admit, suddenly aware of the gnawing in your belly.

   He looks down at you for a brief second, an amazed look dances in his eyes before he throws his head back to let out a rich laugh.

   "Burgers, and then bed?" He asks fondly, head tilting down to kiss your forehead.

   "Oh fuck yeah." You say excitedly, the promise of a big nasty burger makes you giddy.

   It's not long before you're sat next to Kiri at a booth in your favorite burger joint. One heavy arm draped over your shoulders, the other holding a massive cheeseburger. You sit comfortably dressed in one of his hoodies, it falls all the way to your knees, drowning your body in fabric that smells like him.

   He takes one, huge, messy bite out of his burger. Lettuce and condiments flops onto his plate as you carefully bite your own.

  "You're an animal." You giggle up at him.

   He considers your statement as he chews, then leans down next to your ear once he's swallowed.

   "You like it." He whispers.

   Your spine goes rigid and blush heats your cheeks. Of course nobody heard, only a few others out at this hour, but you can't help but glance around the diner to make sure.

   You slap his arm and pout up at him.

  "That's not fair." You protest, but you can't help the smile that spreads when you see him beaming at you with all his pointy teeth on display.

   The rest of the night is spent full of laughter and teasing over milkshakes. You eventually wind up back home, tangled in bed together. After a change of bedding of course. You press yourself into Kirishima as much as you possibly can, though you'd both be content to melt into each other if it were possible. As you drift off, you thank your lucky stars for the man holding you, for the safety he provides, for such a dazzling first time. You're glad you waited, you'd do it again, you'd do it forever if it meant you could share it with Kirishima.     

[bakubub]

In which racer!kuroo is your roommate, and seems to only like it when you treat his wounds... (word count: 1.9k)

Ngl quite proud of this one!!

Warnings: 18+, a whole lot of swearing, a whole lot of blood, innuendos and implied nsfw, reader almost vomits (NOT from pregnancy chill, I know we're all scarred but its going to be just fine) and if you're squeamish perhaps skip the scene where reader stitches his wound?

Also bit of a disclaimer: I am in NO WAY a med student and literally all of my knowledge is from movies and other fics... so if you acc know what to do in this situation this may be a torturous for you :D

All due credits go to @aikk00​ for this AMAZING fanart!!!!

I watch as my roommate enters the penthouse, once again scratched up and bleeding, covered in so much blood there is no possible way that it was all his- if it was he would not be standing.

I launch myself off the couch- where I was sitting for the past hour nervously waiting for his return- and slip my arm under his, supporting him as we inched towards the bathroom.

"I can do this by myself you know," he grumbles, his grimace revealing just how much pain he was actually in.

"Mhm, I'm sure you can. Just like you boiled that poor egg by yourself last week, hmm?" I say sarcastically, trying to keep my mind calm and clear, because oh my god it looks really bad this time...

"Oi, its not my fault it fuckin' exploded," he mutters, voice laden with pain.

"You put it in the microwave because 'the shitty water wasn't doing its job.' Of course it would explode," I say, gently seating him on the closed toilet seat and taking out my supplies that I unfortunately have become rather accustomed to using. He's made it a habit to get himself injured.

"Where's the injury?" I ask, setting down my half-empty bottle of antiseptic and box of bandages. He peels off his shirt, cringing at the pain it brought him as the fabric was stuck to the gash that went from his left pectoral down to the middle of his chest.

"Pissed off a bidder after winning a race, fucker took out a knife once he realised he couldn't beat me up," he huffs out, arrogance still lacing his tone even with sweat dripping down his brow as he leans the back of his head onto the tile wall behind him. His Adam's apple bobs down his bloodstained neck as he speaks, and I quickly look away, focusing on the injury at hand.

Not his blood soaked, but nevertheless well defined pectoral muscles, nor the abs that my hands occasionally brush up against and know how hard they really are, and definitely not the trail of black hairs that lead down, down, down...

"What's wrong, the view too hot to focus on the work at hand?" He asks suggestively, raising his pierced brow, even in this state.

I'm quick to reply, having gotten used to his flirtatious remarks from the second I moved into his penthouse, "nope can't even see the view from that massive head of yours. Not to mention your permanent bed head."

He huffs out a laugh, then proceeds to flinch from the pain it must have caused.

"Stop moving, idiot. You're going to exacerbate the cut!" I say, quickly grabbing a damp towel and beginning to clean up his abdomen, whilst simultaneously pressing another rag to his wound to stop the bleeding.

“At least you admit that there is a hot view,” he says in his low voice, gazing at me from his position.

I simply roll my eyes.

No falling in love. That was the deal we had made on the day he offered me a place to stay in exchange for my services as a maid and apparently, a nurse. I cook, clean and basically keep the house running while this moron goes out and acts like the idiot he is. In my defense, dorms are expensive as hell, and his penthouse is nearby. Plus, I don't have to pay rent. It's a win-win situation.

But the feelings stirring up inside my heart might just ruin the dynamic we have going on and simultaneously take out a whole lot of cash out of my pocket.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

Once his skin isn't completely saturated in blood, and the wound has (thankfully) stopped bleeding, I add some antiseptic onto a make-up pad and begin to dab at his wound, earning winces and slight grunts from the massive man.

"The cut looks deep, Kuroo. You need to go to the hospital," I say, worry lacing my tone as my eyebrows crease and earn yet another huffing laugh.

"Do you want me to rot in prison for the rest of my life?"

I roll my eyes at his response, deliberately dabbing just a little harder which earns me a yelp and an attempted glare in my direction.

"First off, illegal street racing won't send you to prison for your entire life, just for like, half a year. Second, this wound needs stitches, and believe it or not, I'm not a fucking licensed medic. In fact, the only experience I have is with you!" I say, immediately regretting my choice of words as I wait for his remark.

"That's what she said," He says, chuckling at his own innuendo.

I sigh in frustration, pouring more antiseptic to make sure there was no chance of infection from whatever grimy ass knife stabbed him, and beginning to gently scrub the wound with a soft towel, so as to make sure there was no debris left in there.

"You're gonna have ta do it," he mutters, his hazel eyes boring into mine.

"I- I can't Kuroo, you can't possibly think-"

"Fine. I'll do it. Go get me a needle and thread," he states, struggling but nevertheless, sitting upright on the red stained toilet.

I stare at Kuroo in disbelief as he utters these words. Was he dumber than I thought? Does he have some sort of head injury too?

I examine his face and all I come up with is unnerving determination. I exhale out of my nose sharply, "fine, dammit. I'll sew your fucking wound shut."

I am extremely handy with a sewing needle and thread, used to really be into embroidery back when I had the time so...it should be fine.

He just shrugs, leaning his head back against the tiles and closing his eyes.

"Fucking asshole. Can't believe I'm saving your damn life," I mutter, leaving the bathroom to dig through my wardrobe for my sewing box and taking out a gold silk thread that I was saving for a special project.

Well, I guess that will never happen.

"Hey, I found some silk thread. It's literally known for its strength and durability in high temperatures, so it should work like a charm!" I say, walking back into the blood stained bathroom and trying to psych myself up.

He grunts in response. I sigh as I begin with mopping up the excess blood and sanitising the needle and thread before chucking on gloves.

I wipe the antiseptic over the wound once more, and examine it carefully.

Well, if his condition worsens, I can always knock him out and call an ambulance...

I decide, screw it, and thread the needle, pretending it was just another embroidery project.

It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I chant as I puncture his skin with the thin needle.

Kuroo gasps in pain, and I place a hand on his knee, telling him to suck it up and deal with it, half talking to him but also to myself.

To my surprise, he listens, stretching his head back once more and gritting his teeth.

"Don't do that, here put this in-between your teeth," I say, grabbing yet another towel and shoving it into his mouth.

He obeys as I continue to stitch. I feel my gag reflex kicking in as I think about how stitching skin feels as though I am stitching leather, it feels hard and tough while pushing the thin needle through.

Must hurt like a bitch.

Once I've completed my neat stitches down the wound, without vomiting, I tie it off as I would with any embroidery, and clean the area free of any remaining blood. After rubbing some antibacterial ointment over the gold stitches, I stick on a particularly large bandage over the wound and start tidying up.

"Thank you," Kuroo mutters, still seated on the toilet seat and practically panting for breath.

"Ah, the criminal knows his damn manners!! Now get up and get in the damn shower. You ruined my pristine bathroom!" I complain, putting the last of the materials away before walking to the door.

"Wait, I- I can't get up." I turn around and look at him incredulously as he utters his next few words, "will you... shower me?"

My eyes just about pop out of their sockets at his request. "Are you insane?! I'm not your mother, nor your wife! Call your pudding haired friend and tell him to come shower you!"

He shakes his head, a rare pleading look taking the place of his usual arrogant smirk, "Kenma's too lazy to shower himself, Y/n, please!"

I contemplated it for a moment. Sure, I've seen him naked before, accidentally of course, and so what if I have to scrub him clean. God knows he can't do it himself with that damn injury.

Fuck this shit.

"Fine, get up right now." I bark at him, leaving to change out of my blood soaked pjs into a pair of shorts and a tank.

"...I just said I can't."

---

"Ow, y/n, you're scrubbing too hard!" He complains, his exfoliating glove around my hand as I rub his toned back clean of any dead skin-cells and blood remains.

"But look how much stuff is coming off!" I say gleefully, enjoying this a little too much.

Kuroo, seated on the built-in bench in the open shower with his red boxers on, looks back to see the satisfaction dripping from my features.

"Are you secretly a sadist?" he whispers. In response, I begin to rinse off his raw back with hot water, causing him to screech like a cat.

"It burns, it burns-”

“Shut the fuck up, moron! It's 4 in the morning, you’re going to annoy our neighbours. I tried very hard to get in their good graces, and Mrs. Suzuki still doesn’t like me! She definitely thinks I’m some kind of hooker…” Kuroo laughs at this, and I can’t help but watch as his whole face brightens up from his usual emotionless expression. I find myself smiling in response.

I grab his expensive shampoo and pour some into my hands, beginning to massage it into his scalp. With wet hair, his raven strands are for once flat on his head and reach down to his defined jawline. Kuroo groans under my touch, leaning into my fingers. I snatch my hands back and pour hot water over his head.

"ARGH! Y/N!" He screams, hastily getting up and wetting me in the process.

"Ah- what are you-" I don't get to finish my question as he grabs my arm and yanks me next to him under the hot water, soaking my clothes and my hair.

"You asshole!" I screech as I reach up to pull his hair in defiance, but he only grabs my arm and hooks it around his neck, leaning down to look directly into my eyes.

Our noses brushing against one another, he mutters, "You look pretty with your hair wet and your shirt see through."

It takes me a moment to get past the compliment and to hear the perverted comment that he just uttered.

He sees my look of confusion and laughs, bends over, clutches his stomach and laughs, before bellowing in pain because of his injury.

Smiling smugly down at him as he grimaces, I force him to sit back down and continue massaging the shampoo into his hair, warning him that if he so much as moaned I would leave him in here, dripping wet and in pain.

"That's what he said," is his reply.

I smack his head in response.

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[hangovercurse]

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About

Pete invites you to meet his friends from The Dirt and makes you promise not to flirt with any of them, which is a lot easier said than done, especially when Colson Baker acts like that.

Request: “Hey so I love all your writing and I just thought you should know that! But also I’d your requests are on still would you mind writing a youre Pete’s little sister but kells got a crush xx”

Colson x reader

Warnings: Drug use, Cursing

A/N: I know, Dom (Yungblud) wrote the song, but also I am the writer and I say that Y/N wrote it :) Anyways, enjoy. This is only part 1 of what is probably going to be a fun, cute lil series. Also thank you to the anon who sent this! You made my day(s)

Word Count: 2411

| ii | iii | iv | v |

masterlist

New York was lonely without your brother. He had been filming in New Orleans for the past three months, leaving you alone. You had some friends, but Pete was your best friend. You were only eight months younger than him and practically attached at the hip. You supposed going through trauma together would do that to people.

He facetimed you all the time from set, updating you on things in his life, showing you cool stuff from the set, and introducing you to his castmates. You had kept him updated on your music, playing him demos of songs you were writing and getting his opinion on them.

Him being away wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it definitely sucked for you. So, when Pete texted you that he was having a few friends from the movie over the night he got back, you were ecstatic.

Before you left your apartment to walk to his, he texted you.

You’re not allowed to flirt with any of my friends

You rolled your eyes as you locked your door, preparing a response.

I’ll try my best

Your phone buzzed seconds later.

I’m serious. I don’t trust any of them with you.

And I don’t need that kind of awkwardness in my life

Like if you date one of my friends and it goes badly

I don’t wanna deal with that shit

You chuckled at his chain of texts.

Don’t flirt with your friends because they’re dicks, got it

Don’t worry bro, I know the sibling code

 You came to find out that that was a lot easier said than done. When you walked into his place, everyone in the room turned to look at you. You recognized most of them from your facetimes with Pete, but you doubted they remembered who you were. One who did remember you was Colson, Pete’s new best friend. He made eye contact with you from across the room, a sly grin on his lips. You sent him a small smile, Pete’s text running through your head briefly.

You found your brother lounging on the couch, a huge grin on his face. He was definitely tripping on mushrooms. “Y/N!” He yelled. “This is my baby sister, everyone.”

You rolled your eyes, walking further into the room, grabbing a drink from the cooler, and taking an empty seat on the opposite couch. “I’m less than a year younger than you, Pete.”

You heard a snicker from the one of the guys, looking over to see Colson covering up the smile on his face. “But you’re still younger than me so it counts.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations, which you were thankful for. “Y/N, you remember Colson, right?” Pete motioned to the blond guy.

“Yeah.” You nodded, looking him up and down. His muscle tank exposed the sleeves of tattoos, which seemed to cover every inch of his skin. “Your hair was different, but yeah I remember you.” You opened the beer on the coffee table, taking a swig.

“You’re the musician, right?” He asked you, leaning back onto the couch.

You nodded, “Aspiring musician but, yeah.”

“Oh, she’s great. You should hear her sometime.” Pete butted in, grinning like an idiot at you.

You rolled your eyes but had a smile on your face. “I work primarily as a songwriter and editor right now, but I’m trying to work on putting out some of my own stuff.”

You felt a little intimidated talking to Machine Gun Kelly about music, seeing as he was one of the best in the industry, but he seemed to be genuinely interested in your work. “Well, if you ever want some help or someone to listen to it, I’d be willing.” He flashed a smile, his bright blue eyes sparkling.

“Thanks, that’s really cool of you.” You bit your lip slightly, trying to hide the fact that you were totally breaking Pete’s rule.

Pete sent a glare your way to which you raised your eyebrow. You weren’t really flirting; you were just… making connections. “Anyways,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been working on this sketch idea, Y/N, and I need your opinion.”

You nodded, letting him talk. “So, I was thinking like, there’s this guy with posters all over his wall. Like life size posters of a bunch of different people. And he falls asleep while doing homework and he dreams about them coming to life. And it plays out like one of those really bad commercials that encourage kids to stay in school and shit. Like the posters are telling him to study for his test, but then there’s this one poster that’s like, very sexy. And she’s just like, talking about hot dogs and everyone else gets really sick of it and one of the other posters tries to like, tear down her poster or something.”

Throughout his description, you got more and more confused. “Pete, that’s not funny that’s just fuckin weird.” His mouth hung open in shock. “Dude, seriously? The big punchline is the playboy poster girl talking about hot dogs until the other poster people get tired of it?”

“Yes.” Pete said, as if it were obvious. “That’s hilarious.” You glanced at Colson with a questioning look on your face. He seemed as unsure of the joke as you were.

“Pete, man, that’s not your best work.” Colson clapped him on the shoulder and you giggled at Pete’s disappointed expression.

“You guys are mean.” He pouted and you two laughed. “Ok, well, how would you make it funny?”

“I don’t know if you can, bro.” Colson’s laugh was contagious. When he laughed his whole body shook, his feet stomping and everything.

“What are the other posters?” You asked, trying to be supportive but knowing this wouldn’t turn out very good.

“Well, I was thinking maybe one is like a video game character. Like that lady from Wreck-It-Ralph. The mean one. And then like a snowboarder who is definitely high, and someone else, I dunno.” He shrugged, taking a hit from the joint in his hand and passing it to you.

“Okay…” You trailed off, looking at Colson for support. You brought the blunt to your lips, inhaling the smoke and bringing it down, letting the smoke leave your mouth slowly. You passed the joint to Colson, who gladly took it, a smirk on his face.

Pete looked between you two at the small interaction, a frown. “So, the posters,” he brought your attention away from the man again, “they’re all really serious about teaching this dude math. But the hotdog girl just keeps talking about hot dogs in like this really high-pitched voice.”

You watched the smoke fall from Colson’s lips, not fully paying attention to your brother.

“Yeah man, I think that sounds funny.” Colson told Pete, his eyes lingering on you for a little longer than they should have. “It could use some work but if anyone can make it funny, it’s you.” Colson punched your brother on the shoulder, but the look he sent you said the exact opposite.

You held in your giggle, taking another sip of your beer.

The rest of the night followed a similar pattern, you and Colson flirting and Pete trying to get in between you two. At one point, after a few more hits of weed and a couple more drinks, Colson brought out a guitar, insisting you play something for him. Where he got the guitar from, you had no idea, but you didn’t ask questions. Instead, you rolled your eyes, insisting that “if I have to play something, so do you.”

Everyone was too caught up in their own conversations to care about the noise, or too drunk. You started strumming, trying to remember the chords to a song you had started writing a few days ago. “There’s no lyrics yet, just a melody I came up with.” You blushed, feeling very self-conscious suddenly.

“Guess I’ll just free style to it then.” He chuckled as you started to strum, your fingers working the strings like they had your whole life.

The blond man closed his eyes, head nodding as you played and thinking of what to rap.

“Watch me, take a good thing and fuck it all up in one night. Catch me, I’m the one on the run away from the headlights.

No sleep, up all week wastin time with people I don’t like. I think, somethin’s fuckin wrong with me.

You smiled as he sang, watching his expressions change as he tried to think up the next line.

Drown myself in alcohol, that shit never helps at all

I might say some stupid things tonight when you pick up this call

I be hearin silence on the other side for way to long, I can taste it on my tongue, I can tell that somethin’s wrong.”

He opened his eyes, looking rather proud of himself. “I had some of those lyrics already, but I just changed ‘em a little. I really liked that.”

You nodded, “That was impressive.” You smiled, looking back down to the guitar when something hit you.

You began to play the same melody but pitched higher to fit your voice.

“Roll me up, and smoke me love

And we could fly into the night

You take drugs, to let go, and figure it all out on your own

Take drugs, on gravestones, to figure it all out on your own.”

You looked up to Colson, watching his expression change, his eyes wide. Pete had a proud look on his face.

“Pete, you are a sucky hype man. You did her no justice.” Colson hit Pete on the arm.

“Whaddya mean, I told you she was great.”

Colson looked over to you, a stupid smile on his face. “Seriously, that was fucking amazing. Like, we gotta write that shit out some day.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop the blush from reaching your cheeks. “Yeah, that’d be cool.” You were trying your best to keep your cool as Colson kept his gaze on you, but you were completely freaking out on the inside.

A little while later, almost everyone was gone except you, Pete, Colson, and Douglas Booth, who joined your conversation not long after your jam session. Pete let out a yawn, directing your attention to the time.

“Jesus, it’s already 4am?” You asked, a frown on your face.

“Why, you got somewhere to be, darling?” Douglas asked you, your face scrunching up from the nickname.

“I have a writing session at 11 am tomorrow. Or, today, I guess.”

Pete reached out to hit you in the head, playfully, which you dodged. “Go to bed, dummy.”

You shrugged, “I’m gonna be dead at it anyways, might as well keep the party going a little longer.”

Douglas rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. “Be that as it may, I am ending this party and going home. Goodnight, guys. It was nice meeting you again, Y/N. Good to see you guys.” Douglas and the guys did that little hand slap and hug thing before he left.

“I love you both, but I will also be going to sleep. And you should too.” Pete stood up, stretching his arms out before giving Colson a fist bump and leaving to his bedroom.

Once your older brother left, Colson moved to the couch you were on, his arm falling over your shoulders. You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “And how can I help you Mr. Kelly?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m assuming Pete gave us both very similar talking to’s, given the glares you’ve been receiving all night.”

“You mean the “don’t flirt with my friends” talking to or the other one?” You tilted your head, a sly look on your face.

“That’s the one.” Colson laughed through his nose, an adorable smile on his face. You were both considerably high, but you still knew exactly what you were doing.

You moved closer to Colson’s body, “Well then I guess we’d better not do this.” You said quietly, leaning into him. “Or this,” You grabbed his jaw, inches from his face.

“Or this?” He whispered, connecting your lips. You smiled into the kiss, tasting the weed on his tongue. You adjusted your body so you were facing him, his arm that was once around your shoulder now wrapped around your waist.

His other hand grabbed your leg, pulling you up so you were straddling his lap, and your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips seemed to fit perfectly around yours, and you did all you could to keep yourself from moaning into the kiss as his hand began to travel up your leg.

Realization hit you like a brick wall, and you pulled away, your breathing heavy. “Sorry,” you muttered after a few seconds. You climbed off his lap, smoothing out your shirt. “We shouldn’t do that. I shouldn’t have done that.” You smiled awkwardly down at him.

He nodded, the same realization hitting him. “Yeah, that’s not the best idea. Sorry I wasn’t really thinking.”

You shook your head, cheeks still very red. “No, no, no don’t apologize. It was fine, it’s all fine.”

He nodded, looking down awkwardly. “I should get going.” He stood up, landing a little too close to you.

“Why don’t you just sleep here? Pete won’t mind and it’s a lot easier than going home.” You bit your lip awkwardly, taking a few steps back.

Colson scratched the back of his neck. This was a very different demeanor than he had before, and you found it very cute. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’ll get you some blankets and pillows.” You moved towards the guest bedroom, a guilty smile on your face. You moved your hand to your lips, feeling where Colson’s lips had graced you minutes before.

You came back to find Colson laying on the couch, one hand behind his head. “We don’t have to tell Pete about that, right?”

You shook your head, a small smile still playing on your lips. You put the pillow behind his head, watching his eyes as he watched your lips. “Stop looking at me like that or I’ll do something else we can’t tell Pete about.” You said quietly, watching him grin. You pulled the blanket over him, leaning down to be level with his face.

“I kind of like the things we can’t tell Pete about.” Colson chuckled, leaning forward to connect your lips again.

[drabbles-mc]

Aftershock

Coco Cruz x Reader

Request from @masterlistforimagines​: Coco coming to you after having to kill Celia. I want all the angst and fluff

Warnings: angst, language, Sad Coco

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get to this request but I promise that I didn’t forget about it! A little angst for Johnny Coco Cruz.

Taglist: @mayans-sauce​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @paintballkid711​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @queenbeered​ @sillygoose6969​ @sesamepancakes​ @yourwonkywriter​ @chibsytelford​ @gemini0410​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing or fics for specific characters let me know!)

You were halfway through a bag of popcorn and a movie when you heard a knock at the door. You glanced down at the time, and you knew that anyone showing up to your house at this hour must’ve had a really good reason to. You paused the movie and got up, walking slowly over to the door. You peaked out the window and when you saw Coco standing there, you immediately unlocked and opened the door.

“Hey, you okay?”

He shook his head, and you could see the emptiness in his eyes, “Can I come in?”

You nodded, stepping to the side so he could walk past you, “Yea, of course.”

Silence filled the space between you as you looked him over. He looked disheveled, and soaked. You reached forward and gently went to push his hair back out of his face and he flinched at your touch, something that he’d never done before. You quickly brought your hand back to your own body, pressing it lightly against your chest.

“Sorry,” he shook his head as he reached out and took your hand in his, resting it lightly on the side of his face.

“You look exhausted, Johnny,” you traced your thumb along his cheekbone, “Why don’t you go shower, get some dry clothes on, and then we can talk?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I mean. I’ll go change, yea.”

You weren’t used to seeing him so skittish and jumpy. He’d always had his little idiosyncrasies, sure, but this all felt totally different. You gave him his space while he changed, sitting back down on the couch to wait for him. Nerves wracked your whole body as you twisted your hands in your lap, unsure of what to do.

He finally reemerged in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. He sat down on the couch next to you but wouldn’t meet your eyes. Your heart felt heavy inside your chest and you wished that you knew how to help him with whatever he was dealing with.

You swung your legs up onto the couch, making it so your back was against the arm rest. “C’mere,” your voice was soft as you motioned for Coco to come closer to you.

He came and laid on top of you, his body situated between your legs and his head rested against your chest. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, not saying anything for a few minutes as you focused on his breathing. It started to slow down and you felt a little bit of the tension disappear from his body. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his face against your chest, taking a deep unsteady breath.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you kept your voice soft, not wanting to get him worked up about whatever had him so upset.

He held you tighter to him for a moment, and you wondered if he was going to bypass the question. You didn’t stop stroking his hair, not wanting him to think that receiving comfort was conditional.

“She’s dead,” his tone was cold.

Your eyes went wide for a moment and you were glad that he wasn’t looking at your face, “Who?”

“Celia.”

You gasped, hand resting on his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he shook his head slightly, “I did it.”

Your entire body froze for a moment, “Wh-what?”

He didn’t lift his head from your chest, “She hurt Letty. I couldn’t fuckin’ let that go.”

You knew that there was no love lost for Celia, that Coco had detached himself from her emotionally a long time ago. The woman didn’t leave him much of a choice. However, this was still much more drastic than what you were expecting. Once you heard the reason, though, it all made sense. He would do anything for his family—he proved it every day with the club, with Letty, with you. You took a deep breath to try and get your mind right.

“I’m sorry, Coco,” you rested one hand on his back while the other went back to running through his hair.

“I don’t think I am,” there was a slight quiver to his voice.

You heard his breathing hitch and you squeezed him tight to you. Coco was never one to cry, he usually defaulted to anger for the sake of survival. But you felt his breathing get unsteady as he clung to you and it brought tears to your eyes as well. You held him tight, pressing a soft kiss against the top of his head.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, “You’re safe now.”

You felt the dampness from his tears soak through your shirt and onto your chest. You took a deep, steady breath as you let him cry it out. There were years of pent-up emotions pouring out of the floodgates. Coco could hold himself together better than anyone you knew, and to see him finally break down and let it all out was a mix of heartbreaking and relieving.

After a few minutes, his breathing started to even out again and his grip on you loosened. You slowly ran your hand up and down his back, intermittently placing gentle kisses on his forehead and hair.

“Can I stay here tonight?” his voice was hardly a whisper.

“Of course,” you kissed his forehead, “You don’t even have to ask.”

He didn’t say anything else to you for a while. You gently tilted his chin up and kissed him softly on the lips. you cupped his face in your hand and stroked your thumb along his cheekbone. All you could think about was the fact that you would give anything to wipe away all the pain he’d ever endured.

His eyes looked a little less vacant now—there was a little bit of life back in them. You could tell that he was still a long way from okay, whether or not he’d ever admit it. He leaned into your touch, letting his eyes drift shut. You pressed another gentle kiss to his lips before resting your forehead against his, both of you had your eyes closed as you soaked up the moment.

“I love you,” his voice was quiet, raspy, “so fuckin’ much.”

You let yourself smile, “I love you too.”

He rested his head back against your chest, “You can finish your movie.”

You kissed the top of his head, “That’s okay.”

“Nah, for real, you can do whatever you were doing before I got here.”

“We can go to bed if you want,” you really had no attachment to the movie that you were watching, and it seemed like there were much more important things to be handling now.

“I like this,” he snuggled closer against you.

“Yea?”

He nodded, “Yea. Go back to your chick flick or whatever.”

A soft laugh escaped you as you reached for the remote, “Alright. Let me know when you wanna go to bed.”

He mumbled out a response as he settled against you. The movie was playing to cut through the silence in your house, but you couldn’t focus on it for more than a minute or so at a time without looking down to make sure that Coco was still okay. Your hands were continuously running through his hair—it was a gesture that felt so second-nature at that point you hardly noticed that you were still doing it.

About ten minutes later you glanced down and saw that his eyes were closed, and his breathing was even. You sat still for a moment and you could hear the quietest of snores coming out of him. You let out a sigh of relief as you went back to stroking his hair. You mumbled a quiet, “I love you,” against his hair and kissed the top of his head before settling back against the couch and shutting your eyes as well, never so content to sleep on the couch.

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 4: The Ghost of You

summary: Somehow Tommy and you managed to convince Joel to stay in Jackson for the night, opting to leave the next morning. Things get just ever so slightly awkward between you and that gruff bastard, but it’s fine, totally fine. You’re really not that flustered already.

warnings: none, maybe a little naked Joel nothing nsfw, maybe a tiny bit of eye-fuckin’ but whose to say, not me!

word count: 3,178

Read on AO3 here

The last twelve or so hours were probably the most eventful of your tenure at Jackson, especially since becoming Maria’s right hand gal. The walls of the small community towered in front of you as the four of you approached. Tommy and yourself taking point in the front while the two strangers to Jackson were quiet behind you, either in awe or unease.

Because the sun was still setting, it was difficult to make out who replied but you think you recognized Marcus’ voice telling the others to open the gate. You looked over your shoulder to talk to Joel and Ellie, “We’ll go to the stables first, drop these boys off then take you to one of the houses. You two can get cleaned up there and we’ll bring you food and supplies.”

“Okay!” Ellie looks excitedly at you and Tommy. Beside her, Joel continues to be wary and alert. He surely trusts his younger brother, but you’re waiting for him to start something with you.

It didn’t take much for the whispering and gossip to start in Jackson. No matter how late in the night there was always a lurker, always somebody looking to stir shit, so when you started seeing more and more of the townsfolk peeping out of windows to look at the two new strangers riding alongside two of their leaders, you sent a silent thank-you to the stars that you didn’t have to linger for the whispering to swirl you.

Just the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

Tommy, who rode in front, began to point out to his brother and the girl various landmarks for the small city. The saloon, the community center, the medical building. Making a not-so-subtle attempt to let his brother know he could stay after you’d all return, live a semi-normal life in Jackson during the apocalypse.

Eventually, you fell behind Joel and Ellie making sure nobody pulled any kind of stunt from the back so you got to watch as the gruff brute shifted on his horse, looking only mildly uncomfortable that he couldn’t keep an eye on you. You wondered how his life was on the outside, how much horror plagued his nights, as it did you and everybody else who had to suffer in similar circumstances. Ellie, on the other hand, looked enthusiastic and much as an ordinary child did, despite the glaring obvious.

Approaching the stable, you pulled yourself out of those lingering thoughts, spotting Cherry and Charlie. Cherry ran up to your small group, excitedly cooing at her babies, grateful for their safe return.

Everybody jumped off their horse, handing the reins to a stablehand nearby and Ellie approached the young woman, “I’m sorry I stole your horse. I won’t do it again.”

Cherry held the horses’ bit in her hand, giving Ellie a stern look which you nearly reprimanded the woman for before she burst into a hearty laughter. “I’d never seen Tommy run so goodman fast in my life,” she howls, “I do forgive you for taking dear Lux but please, don’t do that again.”

Ellie looked down at her feet, giving a bashful promise which elicited another bout of relieved laughter from everyone watching. “Okay, yes, I’m not as young as I used to be, don’t mean I can’t run anymore Cherry,” Tommy smiles. “Anyways, let’s get outta here.”

Once again, your small group fell into silence only to be broken by the occasional point-and-see Tommy was doing as he walked beside you, telling his brother and the girl about Jackson, the little traditions the small community developed such as the movie night that fell on this evening, hoping to entice Ellie into persuading Joel to come back. As he would go on to describe the town and the various jobs everyone pulled, you’d sneak back a look over your shoulder to glance at the man every so often.

Only to catch him staring at you. Damn near every time. 

The four of you pulled up to a two story house at the end of a road, just around the corner from the Jackson cemetery. “Why don’t you two take this house for the night,” Tommy said. “It’s got hot water, firewood, pretty much everything you’d need.”

Ellie groans happily coming up beside you as you kneel to the ground and unzip your backpack. “Here,” you dig out some clothes and hand them to Ellie, “Take a shower first. The clothes might be a little big but something’s better than nothin’.”

Tommy nudges his brother, “We’ll bring you some clothes and some warm food. I think Seth has turkey burgers on the menu tonight.”

“Son of a bitch that sounds good,” you say lightly. It was true, Seth’s turkey burgers were one of the best damned things in Jackson. Even if the old man irritated the daylights out of you most days. 

“I’ll go get the food, you go get them clothes and supplies. Be back here in 30,” Tommy tells you. You gave your friend a mock salute and turned away, walking to the community center.

You chance a glance back behind you, Tommy engrossed in conversation with his brother, Ellie already running up the porch to that tempting fresh shower. As for Joel, as soon as you looked at him, it was almost as if he instinctively knew when your eyes would gaze over him for as soon as you did, his brown eyes met you.

The moment took you by surprise and you tumble slightly, catching yourself after tripping on your own damned two feet. Calm down, can’t you keep your shit together, you chide yourself.

You tried to keep your mind occupied, tried to keep various small tasks in the forefront of your head; it wasn’t really easy considering a gruff man with a husky voice danced behind those thoughts. You barely stopped to say a quick hello to people as you passed, not wanting to give them an opportunity to ask you questions about Joel and Ellie. You saw the community center and pretty much ran the last few feet, wanting to get in and out as soon as possible.

Although you knew the pair for less than a day, it wasn’t hard to pick out a couple spare shirts and tanks for them, hoping they’d fit. Joel was easy, he looked like a man who knew his flannels whereas Ellie was more akin to graphic tees and long sleeve undershirts.Tossing the clothes into a bag, you made your way to the exit.

You shot a thanks of appreciation to Max, the man who practically ran the center, and headed out, making a quick stop to your flat. You tossed out all the dirty clothing from your pack into the laundry basket that laid haphazardly at the foot of your bed and switched it out for fresher and cleaner clothes, restocked on ammunition for your dual guns as well, lastly packing some soon-to-be expired food to eat on the road. A rapid mental check and you figured you were good to head out and left your dear little flat for the foreseeable future.

Feet thumping against the porch, you pounded at the door, calling out. “Tommy?”

When nobody answered you knocked again, “Joel? Ellie?”

Only for silence to respond. 

You check the knob and it gives under your hand and you let yourself in, heading up the stairs to check if anybody was actually here or if Joel skipped town without you. Each room you checked was empty, only pushing your worry to be an accurate assumption when you finally peered into the master bedroom. The door opened with a small creak and you were confronted with the naked and wet image of Joel fuckin’ Miller, clad in nothing but a grey towel around his waist as he sat on the bed.

He looks up at you, watching you watching him. Your breath is stolen away, much like your brain has suddenly malfunctioned. A quick furrow of your brow and you remembered where you were, tossing the bag of clothing at the man and turning to leave, slamming the door shut behind you. Storming down the stairs and aiming for the living room, it wasn’t until you hit the final step that you realized you were holding a breath.

How old am I, you whine. As if I’ve never seen a naked man before.

You plopped down on the sofa groaning, mentally reviewing the sight of Joel sitting on the bed looking frustrated- wet hair and tan skin in all his unfortunate glory. Shaking your head in your hands you sighed, waiting for somebody to come rid you of the ever so obvious embarrassment that loomed over your mind like a cloud when the front door opened to the sounds of Tommy and Ellie talking animatedly about using the rifle to protect Joel some time ago.

Bolting from the seat you took not even a few minutes prior, you met your friend and Ellie, quickly taking the bags from them to do something with your hands rather than ringing your neck out. The two continue talking as they follow you into the kitchen, Ellie going on still on how she’s saved Joel’s life from hunters once upon a time.

Together with Tommy, the two of you set out placemats on the table and served the burgers and fries on plates, letting Ellie finish her story. Thankfully being quiet was usually a quality of yours that served you well as Tommy didn’t pick up anything odd from your demeanor.

As the last plate was set, Joel came down the stairs wearing one of the new flannels you had picked for him. A green number, much like his old one but much less ratty and dirty. You refused to look him in the eye as the food was doled out onto everybody's plates, making sure to give him and Ellie extra fries.

Sitting down at the table with everybody as the four of you dug into the food, Ellie and Joel were quiet as they consumed everything they could which elicited a knowing smile between you and Tommy. It was pretty damned clear they hadn’t eaten anything of substance in quite some time. You were only half done with your own as you got Ellie’s attention, “Hey, kid. Want to finish mine off?”

She looked at you and then to the burger in your hand that you leaned towards her. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Nah, a growing kid like you needs to eat. Take it. I’ll start cleaning up.”

“Ellie,” Joel’s voice hinted at a scold.

You looked at him, “She can eat it. There’s more if either of you want any.” You pushed your plate to the girl and stood, beginning your usual post-meal routine of cleaning up.

“Now you two better not kill each other out there, you hear me,” Tommy started, “Especially you.” He pointed to his brother. You caught out of the corner of your eye Joel tense up, about to argue back.

“Don’t you try to tell me what to do, baby brother,” he emphasizes the ‘baby’.

Tommy put his hands in the air, “I know how you can be, but I also know how she can be.”

This made you cock an eyebrow at him. “Do tell me Tommy Miller, how can I be?”

He stammered for a moment before shrugging, “Hell if I know anymore, you and Maria are gonna be the death of me.”

“Damn right,” you say. You smile and walk over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

As you walk away, you faintly hear Tommy lean over the table and say something to his brother like, “Goddamn Californian girls.”  Which made you throw a rag at his head. He had it comin’.

The trio finished up while you cleaned the kitchen giving your mind some time to go on autopilot, enjoying the opportunity to stay clear of Joel for a moment. You couldn’t figure out what it was, maybe it was that he was one of the first new strangers to come to Jackson. Maybe it was the fact he was the elusive and mysterious older brother to Tommy. Maybe it was just the fact you were fuckin’ horny. Whatever it was was beginning to get on your last nerve and you needed to focus on the task at hand- getting the duo to the University for whatever reason.

Unfortunately you finished sooner than you’d hoped then trotted to the living room and settled on the couch next to Ellie, watching Tommy get the fire going in the fireplace. She shifted in the seat, eager to ask, “So, you’re from California?”

You nodded your head, “Born and raised in the Bay Area.”

“How old were you when the virus hit,” Ellie asked excitedly. “Joel doesn’t like talking about it but it all seems so surreal.”

You shifted in your seat just a bit, feeling all the eyes on you. “I was a little older than you are now, not by much. I was still very much a kid at the time.”

“So what did you do?”

You’re taken back for a moment at the girl's questions. You could tell she meant no harm but you weren’t sure how much you could reveal about yourself to complete strangers, so you compromised with half-truths. At the very least Tommy knew what kind of person you were and you had shit all to prove to Joel.

“Well, after the breakout, I volunteered as a field medic for FEDRA for a few years. I couldn’t take it for much longer so I left. Then, I found the Fireflies, met Tommy there too,” you nodded towards the man.

“And she found her family there,” Tommy interjected. The double innuendo was clear for the two of you.

“He’s right,” you smiled faintly. “Not only did I meet the man who’d become a brother to me,” you jerked your chin towards Tommy and noticed how Joel was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening to you. You continued, “but I found my own brother there along with my uncle.”

Subtlety wasn’t your strong suit but what harm could it do to show that you knew what the hell you were talking about when it came to the militia group.

You sighed heavily recalling some of the darkest moments of your lift. “When the breakout happened, I lost everybody on that first day. The only person who I couldn’t account for was my brother, Regan. Turns out he was able to escape then he joined the Fireflies when they formed.”

“Woah, that’s incredible,” Ellie’s eyes were wide listening to your story. “Was he friends with Marlene?”

“You could say that. Without him, she would have killed me when I approached her in Boston but he vouched for me. His opinion mattered to her.”

“Why,” she asked.

“Hell if I know, hell if I could even guess. Regan was always persuasive, could get anybody to do anything if he wanted,” you said lowly, staring into the fireplace. Your memory swirled with thoughts and worries again, wondering if he was still the same brother you knew or if this world changed him like it did everybody eventually. Sure as shit changed you.

Before any of you knew it, the conversation began to idle down as if they collectively sensed your unease. Soon, Ellie’s head drooped along with her eyelids, coming to lay in your lap as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The silence didn’t stay long until Joel looked at his brother then to you, gesturing between the two of you, “What was that thing you did with your hand? When we were fighting with the hunters?”

“It’s a system we adopted here in Jackson. A bit inspired by the military, a bit from sign language. We developed it to be able to communicate if we needed total silence and it works pretty well, only those of us in Jackson can understand it,” Tommy says proudly.

“I can teach you and Ellie,” you offer. “I’d be good to know if we run into any trouble out there.” You looked down at Ellie, watching as she slept, running your fingers through her hair. She looked peaceful and part of you didn’t want to move, just so she’d get one good night’s sleep but the other argued she’d sleep better in an actual bed.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled, “Be nice.”

You looked away from the girl in your lap and looked between the two brothers. “I’ll take this one up to bed, you get some rest too,” you told Joel. “See you in the morning, Tommy.”

Rousing the teenager awake, you walked with her to one of the bedrooms and she fell back asleep rather quickly. Seemed to barely be phased by the new scenery. You kicked off your shoes and went down the hall, claiming the last of the spare bedrooms. By the rise of the next morning, the three of you will be headed out to the one place you didn’t think you’d ever see again.

These are the thoughts that plague you until sleep catches up to you only to toss over and see sunlight peeking through the blinds into the room. You let out a small groan, hoping that you didn’t oversleep although what it really felt like was that you didn’t sleep at all and exited the room only to find your new companions talking with Tommy and Maria in the living room.

Maria spotted you as you descended the stairs and she grabbed your hand, pulling you outside. “You sure about this?”

“More than anything.”

She wants to protest, you know she does. Instead she leaves you on the porch to walk down to Cherry who was keeping two horses occupied.

You went back inside, seeing Ellie double checking her backpack, yours beside hers. You grabbed your toothbrush and some paste, trying to make yourself feel clean with running water one last time for a while only to return to Joel speaking softly to his brother.

“You take care of that wife of yours.”

“There’s a place for you here, you know,” Tommy tries to convince his brother to return.

He hesitates a moment, scratching his beard. His Spanish accent comes through the southern twang as he says, “Adios, hermanito.”

Joel looks at you, following you out of the house before mounting onto his horse, Ellie jumping on behind him. Ellie gives Tommy and Maria a small wave before Joel turns the horse around. 

Maria gives you a tight hug before you are able to get on your horse and she whispers, “You better come back or so help me.”

You pull back and give her a parting kiss on her cheek, “Kill Tommy first.” She laughs sadly at the idle threat and you mount up, giving a parting nod to your friends and then to Cherry and pull up next to Joel and Ellie, ready to tackle this next adventure.

[pricemarshfield]

i dig you

A fluff & angst Amberprice fic. Chapter 1/2. Read on AO3 here.

Chloe still seems shocked every time Rachel sits next to her at lunch. She hides it well, snarks at anyone who questions them, teases Rachel about the plays she still brings to read and reread again and again.

But Rachel's pretty insightful, and she notices when Chloe's eyes widen, when she shifts like she's not quite sure what to do, when her smile dims a little when Victoria loudly questions why Rachel's still hanging around the soon-to-be-dropout.

She's not sure what to do about it. If she just tells her no, Chloe, I do want to be here still, she's sure Chloe'd find a way to take it the wrong way, question why she needed to bring it up, deny she ever doubted it in the first place. One or all of those things. She loves her, but her abandonment issues run deep. Rachel could punch Victoria, but she'd definitely get kicked out for that, and she doesn't want to risk law school.

So she makes an effort to include Chloe in everything. Chloe sits in on rehearsals, ignoring Mr. Keaton's increasingly desperate attempts to get her to join or at least take the intro elective class. They get high in the junkyard, find a little room and make it their own with graffiti (with actual spray paint, thank you, not a Sharpie). Rachel watches Chloe's weird movies, Chloe watches Rachel's Broadway bootlegs, they listen to punk and drive around in the truck, fabric of the seat replaced so they can't see the deep, dark red stain from when she got stabbed.

It doesn't change anything. Chloe still looks at her like it'll be the last time they hang out every time they have some minor disagreement, texts a hundred times in a row begging her not to leave her every time she gets drunk without Rachel there to reassure her in person. It's...a little exhausting, if she's being honest. She loves Chloe, she wants to help her! But it's...sometimes she's just trying to have fun with some other group, and it's been three parties of that in a row.

"You texting your girlfriend?" asks some well-meaning newbie to the Vortex Club. Rachel opens her mouth to deny it, already dreading having to make herself heard over Victoria's snide commentary and Nathan's barely-veiled homophobia, but then her phone goes off again, and again, and one more time for good measure.

"I do have to take this," she says, and pretends she can't hear the conversation that kicks up before the door's fully shut behind her.

The cool, fresh air outside is refreshing, and she takes a couple deep breaths before calling Chloe.

"Rachel," Chloe says, voice slurring enough that Rachel's heart immediately kicks into a higher gear.

"Hey, Chlo," Rachel says, a nickname she has not used once in her life. "What's up?"

"Wher're you?" Chloe asks instead. Rachel doesn't hear the sound of the train, so probably not in the junkyard? But it could just not be passing.

"At Blackwell," Rachel says, which isn't, technically, a lie. She's on school grounds, and she says it casually enough that Chloe doesn't immediately push. "Do you want to come over? We could put on a movie, light some incense."

Chloe laughs, and the sound is light and easy before it cuts out abruptly. She can't hear anything on the other end.

"Chloe? Are you okay?"

"I'm fucking fine," Chloe says, and she keeps her voice quiet, so that means she's at her house. Rachel's tipsiness from earlier in the night has long since faded, she's probably good to drive, and she really, really doesn't want to leave Chloe alone. There's an edge to her voice that Rachel doesn't trust, reminds her of the fragility in her mom's voice the last time she visited before apparently disappearing off the face of the earth.

Rachel hopes she's in rehab. But she thinks Rose would tell her if that was the case.

"Okay," Rachel says. "I'd still like to hang out, if you're free."

"'Course I'm free," Chloe says. "i don't have any fuckin' friends, do I." It's not said like a question.

"You have me."

"Right," Chloe says. "Just the best of friends."

Rachel's already in the parking lot, trying to remember where the hell she'd parked the car. (Her dad's: knowing how much evidence they have on him working with Damon, he's been inclined to give her everything she wants, especially now that she's already met her mom. Rose still tries, too.) "Yeah. We're best friends, Chloe. You're the person I care about most in this shithole town."

"Yeah," Chloe says. "Yeah, when are we leaving, again? Thought you wanted to leave more than anything?"

"I did!" Rachel says, then corrects, "I do. I had to heal up after getting stabbed, remember?"

It's shitty and manipulative, but it works; Chloe's irritation switches to concern. "Yeah. I remember."

"But I am feeling better now," Rachel says. "I'm ready to go when you are."

"Now?"

"Sure," Rachel says. "Tell me where you are."

"Step-dick's house," Chloe says, quieter now. "Do you mean it?"

"Of course I mean it," Rachel says. "Do you still have all the clothes I packed you?"

"Yeah," Chloe says, voice hitching a little like she's about to cry. "I do."

"Awesome," Rachel says, excited despite herself. "Then I'll see you soon."

---

Rachel wants to be ready for the grand adventure with her friend at her side, but Chloe's house is more than a couple minutes' drive from Blackwell, which gives the logical parts of her plenty of time to ask her what the fuck she thinks she's doing.

They have no money. Rachel's barely gotten her first credit card, and it has, like, 1500 dollars on it. Which is a lot of money, but she's already spent some of it on alcohol, on their half-decent fakes, on Venmoing Frank for their weed or the other things she's tentatively tried. So they have about a thousand, which will cover gas to LA, at least, and probably food, and do they really need hotel rooms?

But of course they need hotel rooms, they can't just park by the side of the road in the middle-of-nowhere freeways. Those are like...fifty bucks? A hundred bucks? They can share a bed, that should make it cheaper.

So. A thousand will get them to LA. Then they'll...get jobs, Rachel guesses.

She's got this idea of herself working at a diner, wearing some cute outfit with pops of red, serving coffee and making small talk with the chefs while she waits for her big break. But that's only good for the modelling; she wants to go into law one day, too.

Maybe she can transfer to a school there? Showing she's independent enough to live on her own (with Chloe, of course, but without her parents there) has to look good on an application?

Or reckless and irresponsible, like her dad keeps calling Chloe.

All-in-all, Rachel's doubting everything in her entire life as she pulls up to Chloe's house. Chloe isn't outside, and she's about to throw some pebbles at her window when the front door opens with barely a creak.

"Did you oil the hinges?" Rachel asks, trying to keep the tone light. "Handy."

Chloe beams at her, wearing Rachel's old tarot shirt. Fuck, her tarot decks, she wants to bring those. All her things. At least some clothes. Probably some food, too?

"Do you have all the stuff you wanna bring?" Rachel asks. "We might need to stop by my place."

"That's what you said last time," Chloe says, but looks at Rachel, wearing her party outfit--only a tank top and some high shorts, which are cute but not great for the only outfit to have in a big life change--and shrugs.

Rachel breathes a sigh of relief. "Plus, they'll get mad if we steal the car. And gas is gonna be expensive enough."

"Don't care," Chloe says. "I'll take the truck."

Chloe, who is visibly swaying on her feet, is absolutely not good to drive. Rachel thinks for a second--if she drives her dad's car back, Chloe can be in the passenger seat, but then they'll have to walk with all her bags back to the truck. If they take the truck, Rachel can leave the keys and a note explaining where it is. They'll be mad, but whatever.

"Can I drive your truck, actually?" Rachel asks, and Chloe shrugs again. It won't be the first time behind the wheel of the truck, but it will be the first time on actual roads, not the paths they'd cleared in the junkyard. "Thanks, Chloe."

"Sure," Chloe says, tossing her the keys and yanking at the handle on her side. Rachel opens her door, reaches over to unlock the passenger side so Chloe can climb in. "What are we getting?"

"Clothes," Rachel says. "Maybe my tarot decks."

A couple of the plays she has physical copies of. Any and all drugs left in her room. Her flashlight that Chloe made for her. The important things.

"Okay," Chloe says. "You mean it? We're gonna leave?"

"I do," Rachel says, and she should kiss her. She should. She has before. She wants to. But she looks at Chloe, eyes still wide with disbelief that Rachel will follow her, will help lead the way out. If she pushes this, and she's wrong...

Rachel grabs her hand instead, smiles at her. Chloe squeezes it, and they keep holding hands the whole way to the Amber house. Rachel hopes she won't ever let go.

[takerfoxx]

Well, in honor of the Rebellion sequel FINALLY being announced, here’s something I was going to do today anyway! Here’s the second part of the crew of Walpurgis Nights watch The Rebellion Story, stretching from Madoka arriving at the school to Hitomi’s nightmare!

Note: I originally was going to write this as one big piece and release it all at once, but then I realized what a dumb idea that would be, so it’s going to get released in chunks as they’re finished.

Note the 2nd: Every time a prolonged conversation takes place, just assume that they’re pausing the movie to talk.

Reminder:

G=Gretchen

H=Homulilly

Op=Ophelia

Ok=Oktavia

Ca=Candeloro/Mami

Ch=Charlotte

...

G: You know, I can’t get over Tavi having legs, or Fee having hair.

Op: It does look good, I gotta say. Must’ve been a bitch to keep it looking so fresh though.

Ch: And probably sets fewer low-hanging branches alight or set off fewer sprinklers.

Op: As far as you know. That style is smokin’

…

H: Seeing all those boys is…weird.

Ch: I know what you mean. I mean, I can picture what they look like, and I’ve seen recreations, but even still…

G: It is interesting to think about. I mean, here it’s perfectly normal for girls to get into relationships with other girls. But there girls like us would be a minority.

Op: Can’t imagine why. Now that I’m seeing them…not really getting the appeal. They don’t even have tits!

Ch: I guess you had to be there.

Ok: Hey, is it true that girls who liked other girls got picked on a lot?

Ca: Well, that’s an oversimplification of a serious problem, and I certainly never saw it happen. But then, I was a little…sheltered. And yes, in some places of the world, that does unfortunately happen. And worst.

G: Poor girls.

Ch: And guys. It happens to the gay guys too.

Op: I never got the gay thing. I mean, using the word as an insult. Like, why would that even be something to be ashamed of?

Ca: That’s…a really complicated question, and I’m not sure I’m really qualified to explain.

G: Well, I think they’re just being silly! I don’t see how anyone could see anything wrong with this!

=Gretchen leans over to give Homulilly a small kiss on the lips. Homulilly is more than happy to reciprocate=

Op: GAAAAY!

=Homulilly smacks Ophelia upside the head=

Ca: All of…that aside, I have to say, this is sort of nostalgic.

Ch: Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?

Ca: Oh, relax. I mean, just this. The school. The girls and the boys. The uniforms. Don’t worry, I’m not going to be struck with an uncontrollable desire for penis.

Op: Though if you do, I know a girl who-

Ca: Thank you, Ophelia. Please don’t finish that thought.

…

Op: Ha. Still a rebel, even then.

Ca: You were. You definitely were. Even more than this version. At least this version of you is going to school.

Op: And Tavi’s the goody-goody, sneaking off…hold up.

Ok: What?

Op: Rewind it a bit.

Ch: Okay…?

Op: So, does this version of me and Oktavia…do we live together?

Ch: Huh?

H: What?

Op: How would she know about me slacking on my homework after school if she wasn’t there? Like, in the same house?

Ca: W-Well, friends visit after school, sometimes to work on homework…

Ok: No, I’m going with Ophelia. We were totally shacking up. I mean, look at us. Look how irritated I am with her. That is love.

Ca: Girls, I hate to burst your bubble, but nobody was actually dating anyone back then.

Op: Oh, come on! Look at us!

Ok: Yeah, I mean the only other explanation is…

=silence=

Op: Is what? What are you…Oh, my God.

G: What’s wrong?

=Ophelia and Oktavia both start to look very uncomfortable=

Op: Candy, tell us the honest truth here: are we sisters?

Ca: What?!

Ch: Oh my God, I’m not hearing this.

Op: If you hid it so we wouldn’t freak out, I understand, but we really need to know-

Ca: No! No, you are not sisters, and you did not live together in our timeline! You knew each other for little over a month when we died, and only really got along for about two weeks!

Op: Oh, thank the flames.

Ok: Whew.

Ca: Seriously, what’s wrong with you? I already told you your stories.

G: Yeah, and Hitomi’s known Oktavia and me for a very long time! I think she’d mention it if you two were related.

H: Plus you look nothing alike. At all.

Ok: Okay! Okay! It was a momentary slip of stupid! We panicked! Leave us alone.

H: Would you two have stopped dating if it turned out you were related?

=Ophelia and Oktavia exchange looks=

Op: Probably not.

Ok: Nope.

Ch: Great. Now that we’ve established yet again how degenerate you two are, can we please continue the movie?

…

G: Huh?

Ok: What’s her deal?

Ca: I…kind of remember her? She was a teacher, and I think I had her my first year. But it’s been so long that-

Op: This lady’s bugging.

Ch: Too many shots in her coffee.

Op: I don’t think that’s alcohol.

Ok: Look at the class. Look at us! We’re all as confused as…we are…huh.

Ch: Don’t think about it too hard.

Op: Okay, seriously! Who allowed this lady around children?

Ca: I can remember her being a little eccentric, but this is on a whole new level.

Ch: Well, as the first few minutes proved, this whole city’s totally drugged out of its mind.

G: Does she want the world to end?

Ok: You know, I’m kind of feeling her.

G: Eh?!

Ok: Okay, look! Way back in the day, before I had a reliable gig, I used to sub every now and then for the FIB’s music department, and let me tell you, after a couple days of trying to keep those sand crabs under control, the apocalypse wasn’t sounding too bad!

Ch: How bad does her class have to be for her to go that far off the deep end?

Ok: Well, me and Fee are in the class.

=Ophelia snickers=

G: Oh, I saw Hitomi!

H: Fantastic.

Ok: I thought you two were cool now.

H: Eh…

Ch: Hey, kids! It’s time to play, “Spot the important characters!”

Ca: Did our hair really stand out that much? I distinctly remember other kids having bright hair colors!

Ch: Well, if you have a bunch of characters that you’re only animating for one scene, then you gotta skimp on some of the details.

…

G: Oh, there you are, Lilly!

Ca: Okay, this part I remember as being fairly accurate.

H: Huh?

Ca: I mean the bit about you being a transfer student and having been in the hospital for a while.

H: Ah.

=pause=

H: My God, I look stupid.

G: Don’t say that! You look cute!

H: Did I really wear my hair like that?

Ca: Well, no. You wore it straight. And I don’t remember there being glasses.

…

Ca: This part…is different though.

G: Really? How so?

Ca: I didn’t know Homulilly before she showed up.

Op: Yeah, you talked about that before. She just sort of appeared out of nowhere one day?

Ca: Yes. And pretty much just…aggressively inserted herself into our group. I mean, she wasn’t rude about it, but…

H: I was a time-traveler trying to save the only person that had ever cared about me from a terrible fate and had already failed several times. No doubt I wanted to skip the pleasantries.

Ca: I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything negative.

H: No offense taken.

Ok: So basically, you had reloaded your save over and over and was skipping the cutscenes so you could get to work on the part you were having trouble on.

H: That is…a remarkably accurate way of putting it. At least I assume that was the reason. I don’t know anything other than I was told, and to be quite frank, I’m glad of it.

Op: Hear fuckin’ hear.

Ok: Cheers. Oh, uh, sorry, Candy.

Ca: Don’t worry about it.

…

Ok: Well, Candy’s really talking you up. Guess you were kind of an ass-kicker, Homulilly.

H: No, it’s like the other version of me said. I was probably in a support role.

Ch: What, with the time-stop thing?

H: Yes.

Ok: Support role, my scaly ass! That is like the most OP power ever! I mean, what could I do?

=pause=

Ok: Uh, that wasn’t a rhetorical question. Candy, what could I do?

Ca: Oh, uh. In addition to your sword, you could use boost pads to jump and heal very quickly.

Op: So a tank, basically.

Ok: See? Just take and give damage! Basic as hell! Now time-stop, that’s a power with some class!

Ch: Plus time-travel.

Ok: Yeah, that’s like the jackpot of unfair.

H: Didn’t do me any good. We all died anyway.

Op: We’re chilling in our expensive, two-story house in a really nice neighborhood watching all this on our expensive big-screen instead of getting our asses beat every night and worrying about homework. I’d say things worked out.

…

Op: GAAAAAAY!

Ca: Oh, come on. It’s just hand-holding.

Op: Look at that blush! Look at it!

H: She has a point. By all accounts I was already pretty infatuated with Gretchen.

=Gretchen blushes=

Ca: Fair enough. GAAAAAAY!

=group cracks up=

Op: Though, seriously. Were any of us straight?

Ca: Well, Oktavia did have that crush on that one boy that supposedly started the whole trouble, and I had a couple of crushes of my own.

Ok: Did you not see me earlier in the movie? I at the very least bisexual!

Op: Or Kyoko-sexual. Everyone’s gay for Kyoko! Even the boys are gay for Kyoko!

G: I don’t really know what that means.

Op: It means the boys find me incredibly attractive, but in a gay sort of way.

G: I still don’t know what that means!

=Oktavia leans over to whisper something in Gretchen’s ear. Gretchen’s eyes go wide=

G: Oooohhhh…

…

Ch: A month? So do the landscape shots just mean a time-skip?

Ok: Okay, we were joking just now, but this is pretty explicitly romantic.

H: As I said, it was at least on my end. Though I don’t understand why he has to be there.

Ca: He was always around, unfortunately. I’m mainly wondering why he’s being so quiet. Or catlike.

H: Why, was he talkative?

Ca: Very.

Op: Huh. Maybe that’s why we got Cheese. We were just used to the animal companion that wouldn’t shut the hell-

=Cheese starts screeching from the other room=

C: Pickinilly! Pickidelly! Picadely whore!

Ch: Great, now you’ve set him off.

=Cheese flies into the room and lands on Homulilly’s flower. She tries not to laugh as he prances about before spying the movie playing=

C: Rat bastard! Rat bastard! Rat bastard!

Op: Where’d he learn that? I didn’t teach him that.

C: Rat bastard! Rat bastard!

Ch: Oh, for the love of…Here, I’ll take him.

=Charlotte offers Cheese her arm, and takes him outside=

Op: I’ll say this: the bird might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he is smart.

Ok: …did anyone else see the freaking dirigibles flying around in the background, or just me?

….

Op: Shit, those are a lot of airships. Hey, Candy-

Ca: No, those are new also.

Op: Something’s seriously off about this timeline, then.

Ch: Who the hell is that?

G: Oh! It’s Hitomi!

H: Of course it is.

Ch: Huh. Guess she does get more than a cameo.

Op: Jesus Christ, does her entire family all sleep in the same bed? You could fit an entire studio apartment into that thing!

G: Well, we were apparently all pretty well off.

Op: You had a normal-sized twin with a bunch of stuffed animals. She’s captaining the HMS Spoiled Rotten in there.

G: She’s not spoiled!

Op: Look, there are like three queen-sized beds between the six of us. You could put them all together and they still wouldn’t be as big as that monstrosity!

Ch: Isn’t she like living with three other girls now?

G: So? That doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people have roommates.

H: They’re dating.

G: What? What are you talking about? That’s silly to just assume-

Ok: Gretch. C’mon. It’s not a secret.

G: B-But-

Ok: Poly relationships happen all the time.

G: I…how did you find out?

Ok: You do know that I talk to her too, right? And honestly, you’re making more of it than she is.

G: I guess so.

Op: She should’ve brought that bigass bed with her, then. Gotten some use out of it.

…

H: Who’s she calling?

Ok: Oh boy.

Op: Well, well, well! Violin-boy!

Ok: Fantastic. Hey! I sold my soul for you! Hope it was worth it!

Ch: Er, you okay?

Ok: Yeah, I’m fine. I am pretty curious though.

Op: Oh! Stood the fuck up!

Ch: Wow, he just shot his own rich girlfriend down to play with his stringy stick!

Ok: Violins are way more than just stringy sticks! But yeah, he did shoot her right down, didn’t he? Starting to think I dodged a bullet.

H: You literally died.

Ok: I know what I said.

Op: I guess Hitomi dodged the same bullet. Traded in one deadbeat for three smokin’ hot girlfriends. Can’t see how that’s not a win!

G: Uh, her family? Whom she still remembers?

Op: Er…yeah. That’s a good point.

…

Op: Oh, she mad.

Ca: Teenage relationships are just like that sometimes. You feel all these big emotions and-Huh.

Ch: And you throw up yarn all over your room? What’s going on here?

Ok: We’re back on that weird shit again, aren’t we?

Op: Does she not notice any of this?

Ok: She just got shot down by her own boyfriend. Cut her some slack.

Op: Did the bed just…Okay, it ate her. It ate her and threw up even more yarn.

Ca: This is all getting very…witch-like.

G: I thought only Puella Magi could become witches.

Ca: So did I. But clearly my knowledge is very obsolete.

Op: Goddamn, Homulilly! You butterfly-effected the universe something crazy!

H: How is this my fault?

Ch: Oh, there’s another freaky teddy-bear. At least we know how they’re made.

Ok: Teenaged angst?

Ch: Most terrifying force known to mankind.

[phobiadeficient]

If you wouldn't mind, could you do a scout x fem sniper? I've seen stories of both females or femscout, but not very often does fem snipes get any love.

welcome to “this request got out of hand and i basically just wrote 5k words of scout tf2 being a goddamn simp”

(no warnings)

-

How the fuck was it that Scout kept ending up head over heels for women who both could and would kill him without any hesitation? Hell, maybe he had a type of something. Who knows?

And he’d kind of done a joke about it, when he heard there was a girl on the team, right? Been all ‘hey, hell yeah, at least boredom won’t be an issue!’, right? And then he’d gone to meet the team and for a minute he’d figured it was the Pyro since he didn’t exactly see a lady and the flamesuit didn’t give out much information. But then he’d seen the figure sitting off to one side facing away from him with the wide-brimmed hat pulled down low and the big shooter’s glasses and the crossed arms and the braid that just barely reached her back and he pieced together some stuff. So he walked over and introduced himself with a handshake and all because he was trying to be polite to everyone up front, good first impression and all, and apparently then he made a mistake, because he called her ‘Miss’.

And then suddenly that handshake turned into his wrist being bent in completely the wrong direction, and her standing up and holy shit she was tall and her voice was way deeper than he’d expected as she calmly informed him that if he called her ‘Miss’ again she would be packing him up in a burlap sack and sending him on a long roll down a short pier, and in fact that her name was Sniper and he could call her that and only that, clear?

So pretty much she was way more intimidating than he would ever be and he was a little annoyed with himself about how hot he found that.

Just his fuckin’ luck, that his nerves got the best of him so bad whenever he really had a thing for a girl, made him act like such an idiot. And he already kind of had his shit wrecked in front of the team once and he wasn’t looking to be turned into the official laughingstock of the group, so he tried his best to leave her alone and steer clear of her before he looked like a complete idiot.

It was just that holy shit she was tall, and every once and a while he would see her in the common area reading a book—like, an actual one—and her voice was kinda gravelly and she could pop a guy’s head from a hundred and fifty feet without even thinking about it and this one time when most of the team was waiting outside the infirmary for Medic to fix them up from battle she fell asleep in the chair across from him and her glasses were all crooked and her hat was lopsided and it was just really really cute—

Okay, so he had a thing for her. The main issue was that he didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

Because, like—she was so fuckin’ cool. And he hadn’t talked to her much for not wanting to look like an idiot reasons, but he’d gathered that while she wasn’t, like, twelve PhDs or mad doctor kinds of intelligent, she was pretty damn smart. And she wasn’t exactly Doris Day or whatever, but he thought she was pretty in a different sort of way. In a could-kick-his-ass kind of way. And also she had a bunch of freckles, which he was just all about.

But he didn’t have the best track record when it came to cool, smart, attractive women wanting to associate with him. Namely, they just straight up didn’t. Mostly they called him annoying or laughed in his face when he hit on them.

Which you would think would start to hurt less after a while, but boy, would you be wrong.

Then again... hey, his luck had to turn around eventually, right?

That’s what led to him putting on the only shirt with buttons that he owned and a pair of nice-ish pants and strolling all the way out to the camper van she lived in instead of the room they had for her in the base.

He knocked, and for a good ten seconds he didn’t hear anything at all and thought maybe she wasn’t even in and he’d have to do a walk of shame all the way back, but then he heard the sound of movement within and a good ten seconds after that, she opened the door.

She was clearly trying to wind down after work, down to her tank top but still in her boots and shades for some reason, and most notably she was holding that big fuckoff knife she always carried into battle. She stared at him, expression flat.

“Uh,” Scout said, eyeing the knife, thrown entirely off of his game for a second.

She went to shut the door again.

“Aw, c’mon, wait a sec!” he whined in protest, stopping the door with his hand. “I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“You had a look on your face like you were planning to ask me to prom,” she deadpanned, and he flushed.

“Did not!” he protested.

She sighed hard, opening the door again. “Alright, then what’s all this, then?” she asked, gesturing loosely at his outfit with the knife.

“Uh,” he started, and fought hard to kick his brain back into motion, to try to piece back together the script he’d had in his head, but they were already wildly off track. “Uh, I was uh—I was just, y’know, I was wondering, if you’re—are you uh, busy?”

She stared at him. “...Am I busy,” she repeated, and he realized how dumb that sounded. Of course she wasn’t busy. None of them except maybe the eggheads were ever busy.

“I uh I meant did you have—y’know, plans or anything? Tonight?” he tried. She raised an eyebrow. “I mean y’know because I was just kinda wondering if maybe you’d wanna go and uh—and get a drink or somethin’. With me, later. Uh, tonight.”

“Mate, you wanna take another run at that without the stutter?” she asked, voice still flat, but her expression had shifted a little, the slightest quirk to her lip.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, shelving his pride for the moment. “Do you wanna go get drinks with me tonight?” he tried, and forced a hard stop at the end, biting his tongue before he could keep rambling and ruin it.

She looked at him. Moved to lean her shoulder against the door, to cross her arms. He glanced at the knife and back up to her face again. Her expression was hard to read.

“What, at a bar? In town?” she asked, tone a little lighter.

“I mean, yeah, sure, whatever’s cool,” he shrugged. “I’ve—I’ve got a motorcycle. Or, uh, I could borrow Demo’s car maybe, he uh, he’s really cool about lending it to me whenever as long as like, like if I’m heading to get food or something I bring back somethin’ for him, and I gotta pay for gas if it’s a long way or whatever but I figure that’s probably fair since I’m the one usin’ it most of the time anyways, I figure that’s a fair trade-off—“

“Scout,” she cut in, and he shut up. She paused. “Rather not go to a bar, if I’m being honest.”

His shoulders sank. “Oh. Uh, yeah, okay, that’s—that’s fair, I uh I totally get it—“

“But I‘ve got drinks here,” she cut him off again, voice raised a little to be heard over his mumbling, and when he looked up she had an eyebrow raised again. “Swing by ‘round nine or so, yeah?”

“Oh. Oh! Uh, no, yeah, totally!” he agreed quickly.

“In something besides the polo, if you don’t mind,” she deadpanned, head tilting to look at his shirt pointedly. “Aren’t exactly a fancy establishment.”

“Sure, okay,” he nodded, and shuffled on his feet for a second before taking the cue and starting to head off back towards base. “Uh, see you then!”

“Yeah, yeah,” she murmured. A pause. “And if you bring flowers I’m locking the door on you!”

“Hah, sure!” he laughed, and waved, and she went back inside.

Two hours later, a few minutes after nine, he’d changed into something more closely resembling his usual outfit, and noted that Sniper had also changed, just a little, putting on a different shirt he’d never seen her in. He realized belatedly that he’d never actually seen her out of the clothes that made up her uniform. It was a nice shirt. He tried extremely hard not to stare at her chest. He mostly succeeded.

And he was proud to say that if nothing else, he could at least hold his alcohol as well as she could. Most of the guys made fun of him and said he was probably a total lightweight, but he wasn’t actually that bad, mostly on account of eating full meals and getting a lot of exercise. She drank a brand of beer he didn’t know shit about, and it wasn’t the worst he’d ever had. And they talked a bunch, about work mostly, but he went on a bunch of tangents in the middle about other stuff, music and movies and home and stories about all his brothers.

Luckily for him, she was apparently pretty patient, and didn’t get annoyed with him and tell him to leave. Mostly she just sat and listened, nodded along occasionally, snickered at a joke every now and then (which was a grand slam victory every time). And by the time he looked at the clock and realized it was pretty late and he needed to head back, maybe it was just the buzz of the alcohol, but she seemed more relaxed, her usual deadpan replaced by the slightest little smile. She offhandedly mentioned that she wasn’t busy around the same time next week, and maybe they could hit an actual bar or something that time.

And he was through the fuckin’ moon over that already, then he was standing outside the door and trying to agree and make sure she was serious as best he could, stammering like a dumbass probably but she already knew he was a dumbass so it was fine, but then he wasn’t stammering because she tilted his face up and kissed him full on the mouth for one, two, three seconds before pulling back and saying she’d see him later and shutting the door behind her.

And he was about halfway back to base when his brain turned back on, and only barely managed to talk himself down from sprinting directly into the common room and announcing what had just happened to the entire team because holy shit he was pumped. But no, no way, he had to keep cool about this. He didn’t know the most about Sniper, but he knew enough to figure she probably wouldn’t be psyched about that.

So instead he just chilled out and wrote in the date and time on his calendar with minimal exclamation points and calmed down.

Mostly.

And, well, he knew he had kind of... a thing, about jumping into relationships a little too quickly, about zooming around the bases and then promptly striking out next time he tried to talk to a girl again, about seeming like he wasn’t really taking things seriously so the girls he dated also didn’t commit super hard and then lo and behold they think he’s a two-weekends-wonder and wander back off again and leave him by the wayside unless they get bored and circle back, then rinse and repeat.

He knew it was partly his fault, and if he wanted to get taken seriously he should really slow the hell down, and god damn it he was committed to not completely fucking this one up, if nothing else then because any kind of messy breakup was gonna make the next god knew how long out in the desert a real problem.

So he kept his hands to himself as best he could, relying more on bumping elbows or jostling shoulders so she didn’t get the wrong idea, kept the flirting exclusively verbal, and kind of joking even then. 

But also at the end of that actual bar date then she’d kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, and she tasted sugary like whatever those technicolor drinks of hers had been called, and she only jokingly complained about how he tasted like tequila, and she smelled like leather and dust and somewhere under that, vanilla—wait, was she wearing perfume? Had she put on perfume for him? Holy shit.

And they were like, right outside the camper, mostly because she’d had just a little bit of trouble standing up and he wanted to make sure she didn’t fall and eat shit on the way back since he was doing just a little bit better, but he had to remind himself over and over, no, no, take it slow, c’mon idiot, don’t ruin this. And so he inched back, kept just a little more distance, and it didn’t take long before Sniper pulled back and glanced him over, from the hands placed at a nice, respectful point on her waist to how he was visibly trying to reorient himself.

“Sorry, mate,” she said, a little quirk of her lip to indicate a smile. “Too much?”

“Uh,” he said, and was cut off as Sniper leaned in and gave him a parting peck on the mouth, followed by a short one to his cheek. “It’s, uh, fine, just, y’know. You’ve had a lot to drink and all and so have I and, y’know, I don’t wanna rush or nothin’—“

“Sweet of you,” Sniper cut in, and that smile was ticking up just a little further. “But it’s alright if you just don’t feel like more than a date, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, nodding and then processing what she said a second later. “Uh. I had fun! This was good. Great! Kicked ass!”

“Again soon?” Sniper asked. “Not next weekend, got other business to do, but soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, totally! Uh, I’ll see you around, uh,” he said, and he had to tip up onto his toes to give her a kiss on the cheek, and then he was bumbling his way through a goodbye.

And then he was in his room jerking off to high heaven, muffled into his hand, mind full of mixed drinks and leather and vanilla and quirked lips and desert heat.

He held himself together for two more outings, once more to a pub and once impromptu in the middle of a Sunday to get tacos from a place Scout liked. And he held himself together almost the whole way through another date in the camper—Sniper made it pretty clear that she liked the privacy of it—even though half of it was spent sitting together on her bed, idly drinking soda and beer and talking about nothing in particular.

But then she was leaning in against his side, a warm weight there, and he couldn’t just not kiss her with her that close, and then he felt her fingertips inching below the collar of his shirt, and it was so damn hot in the camper and he reached for his own shirt and glanced at her with “is this okay?” right on the tip of his tongue but she kissed it right out of him and urged his shirt up and off in a moment.

And before he knew it he was lying on his back and she was half-draped over him, practically pinning him down and kissing him until his head spun and his heart thumped and he hoped to god that she wouldn’t feel that he was getting pretty damn hard already.

“Uh, I-I-I uh I don’t wanna uh, assume nothin’ but uh—“ he stammered out when she leaned back briefly, only to shut directly up when he realized she was taking off her shirt and dropping it off to one side, moving back in to kiss at the place below his chin. “Uhhh but y’know uh I wanted to—to ask, uh, can I—?”

Sniper took hold of his hands where they were lying tangled against the sheets and placed them at her now-bare waist, settling back up to kiss him again, a hand carding into his hair.

“Uh yeah okay,” he mumbled against her lips, and tentatively at first his hands wandered, one sliding up her lower back and feeling out the ridges of her spine and the other hesitating around near her ribcage.

Hesitation, trying to just deal with how wildly unexpectedly good she was at kissing when it got down to it, before his hand trailed up farther, farther.

A pause just as his fingertips reached the edge of her bra. He managed to untangle enough to get a breath in, inhaling to ask a question. “Uh so is it okay if I—?” he started to stammer, then she caught hold of his chin, tilting it up to face her. She had an eyebrow raised at him, expression firm.

“Scout,” she deadpanned, and he shut up. “If you start doing something I don’t like, I’ll bloody well tell you. Unclench, mate. I can handle myself. Stop babying me.”

He gulped, nodded, and reached up to cup at one breast firmly.

“Bloody finally,” she sighed, and sank back in to start kissing a line up his neck.

He felt overheated again, cupping and squeezing and just feeling out her torso, namely what was hidden under firm fabric, fixated and aroused. It wasn’t until his fingers slipped on the cup and he pinched just over where he figured a nipple was that he managed to wring a noise out of her, a soft sound in the back of her throat, and it made his whole body thrum. God. Fuck. God. And she tolerated him playing around for quite a while—patience and all—before getting impatient and tugging his hand around to her back, and seemed pleased that he knew how to handle a bra hook without fumbling. And then he got that burst of confidence, and he was using the arm around her waist to haul her up a bit so he could throw his mouth into the mix.

He talked a pretty big game, he knew that. And he also knew that he did exaggerate a little bit about stuff sometimes. Or a lot. Or made things up.

But he really did actually know what he was doing in bed, honest, even if he usually ended up fucking things up outside of the bedroom often enough to ruin it for himself before he even got there.

All he knew was that Sniper seemed to be caught off guard by both the enthusiasm and his ability to figure out how exactly he could make her feel good, where to kiss and where to suck and overall what he needed to do to get more little noises out of her.

He had his free hand a solid distance down the front of her slacks, sliding with purpose against the front of her underwear and idly admiring the heat of her through the fabric before his brain caught up with him, and then he was pulling back a little. “I, uh, I don’t have—uh anything to uh—“

She hummed, lifting his chin and planting a kiss to the corner of his mouth before leaning over to try to fish through a drawer without needing to untangle from him. Impatience took hold of him fast, made his mouth wander across the expanse of her neck, made her fumble and swear and take just a few extra seconds to pull out a strip of foil squares, tearing one off and dropping it on his chest.

By the time he managed to fumble open the wrapper she’d stripped her slacks off and settled back into place straddling his hips, and he choked on air briefly when she settled back further, weight and heat against where his pants had gotten very tight very fast. She had that quirk to her mouth again. His head was spinning. He reached down to pop the button of his pants, pretty sure he was like, going to die otherwise.

And then condom-kitted fingers were teasing at her, and he watched the way his playing and exploration made her face draw up tight, the way breath puffed out of her unevenly, watched her thighs tremble when his thumb drew soft circles just against the nub hidden just a bit further up between soft folds and fuzz and—

She groaned a plead under her breath just before she teetered over the edge, and it made his hips buck involuntarily, which rocked her and sent her back down much harder than before, and she cried out, thighs going tense, and he felt like he’d touched a live wire watching her jolt through it and back down again, jittery and desperate to move but just barely holding himself back.

She panted hard on the way back down, and some of her hair was sticking to her face with sweat, and she blinked down at him after a second, and her eyebrows furrowed after a few moments.

“...Are you holding your breath?” she asked, eyes narrowing, visibly puzzled.

He exhaled and inhaled and the second he had air back in his system his mouth was running a mile a minute. “Yeah sorry I just y’know I was kinda worried I was gonna start just kinda yakkin’ away there and I didn’t wanna like fuck up my concentration or like throw you off or nothin’ because I kinda do that sometimes and it sucks so I really try my best not to fuck it up like that anymore y’know because uh—“

She rolled her eyes lightly at his shenanigans, moving to stretch briefly, taking a deep, satisfied breath.

“—because y’know heat of the moment stuff I kinda end up just goin’ on and on and on about shit and I don’t just mean in like a dirty talk kinda way even though it’s also that too I just mostly mean like in a sorta just rambling about like—

She reached back over to the strip of foil squares, snapping one off and shifting a short ways further down the bed—not that there was much room, but she managed.

“—like just kinda how gorgeous y—people—uh, girls, I meant girls—!”

She raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise let him keep babbling, just pulling his pants and briefs a short way down his legs and ripping open the foil square with the help of her teeth.

“—uh y’know just how fuckin’ good-lookin’ girls will be because like holy shit y’know? And it’s just like y’know I’ve gotten like compLAINTS—“

His voice rose up into a yip for a moment as she rolled the condom on in a swift motion and squeezed on the upstroke, and he swallowed hard to get his voice back to slightly less shaky, needing to glance away, face flushing at the way the noise had made Sniper grin.

“—uh like about me talkin’ way too much so I figured just better safe than sorry and I’ll just shut up to begin with unless I’m like makin’ sure everything is totally kosher but also you told me to shut up about that too and I didn’t w-w-woah, hah—“

He trailed off with a wheeze followed closely by a very embarrasing squeak as she started to sink down, and he promptly clamped a hand up over his mouth to prevent further noises and found that an added benefit his own shutting the hell up meant he could hear the way she hummed, her shaky breath, the soft sound that rose up in the back of her throat when she’d finally settled.

She finally took a short breath, hummed again, and looked down at him. Her face was flushed down to her collarbones, and her freckles faded into that flush, and she had that quirk to her mouth again. She took hold of his wrists, pulling his hand away from his mouth and where it tangled in the sheets, and instead set it against her chest, the other to her waist. “None’a that,” she murmured, and he nodded quickly, and then she shifted her legs, settled her weight, and started to move.

It took all Scout had just to keep his hands from shaking as he stroked at her skin in rhythm with her movement, watching her move with appreciative, hungry, slightly-awed eyes. His thumb rubbed circles around one nipple, and it made his breath catch seeing the way she bit her lip to keep quiet, the way her eyelids fell that much further, feeling her internal muscles fluttering.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he breathed, honestly and enthusiastically, and she looked up at him, and the quirk of her lip seemed almost sheepish and so he continued. “So fuckin’ gorgeous, look at you. You’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Her lip quirked that much further. “No need for the flattery, there,” she breathed back, voice similarly low. “You’ve already in bed with me.”

“Ain’t flattery if it’s true,” he shot back, and squeezed at her breast and made her jolt into a harder motion for a moment. “I’m serious, look at you! I’d sit here and watch this all day if I was allowed, you’re like every painting and sculpture and drawing all rolled up into one, and even then you’re better because those can’t drink me under the goddamn table.”

She huffed a laugh, thrown off her rhythm and falling still for a moment as she grinned down at him as if not entirely sure what to do with him.

“I’m not jokin’!” he insisted, and he was smiling too, even as his breath returned to him. “If I could just sit around with a view like this all the time, it’d totally ruin me. I’d probably sit there until I starved to death and then the last thing I’d ever do was thank you for the fuckin’ privilege.”

“You’re a sap, Scout,” she said, clearly going for a tone of vague disapproval, but she couldn’t quite wipe the smile off of her face.

“Guilty,” he shrugged, and was only a little surprised when she suddenly leaned down to kiss him, and he smoothed hands up her back to hold her there for just a few seconds longer when he thought she was about to pull back away.

“Well,” she murmured, half against his lips, and then sat back up and steadied herself, rolled her shoulders. “Bit refreshing to hear sweet rather than just filth, but either works for me, yeah?”

And she didn’t exactly give him a chance to respond before she was back in motion, so he just nodded again, head falling back briefly.

“God, you feel good,” was all he managed at first, drawing the nail of each thumb down her sides like seams. When that went pretty well, he continued down the outside of her thighs, then back up the inside starting at her knees. “All hot and—and slick—fuck—“

He took hold of her hips and helped support her weight, started rolling his hips along with her rhythm in increasing force until her breath caught alongside every thrust.

“That good, huh?” Sniper asked, and she was grinning again.

“So fuckin’ good,” he agreed, voice dropped, trying hard to keep his head on straight but finding it increasingly difficult.

The room felt sweltering, and the heat alone was making everything spin. That, combined with the heat and weight of another body on top of him—

“Fuck,” he swore again from behind clenched teeth, rhythm faltering as suddenly he felt just a little too close for a moment, and she echoed the sentiment, reaching a hand down between her own thighs, eyebrows all screwed together and thighs trembling. “Wait—“

He brushed her hand aside and found her clit within a moment, rubbing firm circles against her and feeling like the king of the fuckin’ world at the way that made her cry out, rhythm ticking up in speed.

“C’mon,” he urged, and she panted, choked on a moan, and that was it for her, making a series of bitten off noises.

He clenched his teeth and tightened the muscle in his thighs and held on and held on, and only once she was back to limp and out of breath did he slide out and tug himself over the edge. He would’ve been embarrassed about how loud he was as he finished, but it was soothed pretty quickly by the way Sniper settled forward to lay against his side, pressing a brief kiss to his temple and another just below his ear.

“Holy shit,” he breathed in a very unsteady voice, and managed to get his arms to move to lie more comfortably, an arm over her waist. “You’re fuckin’ incredible.”

“Not bad yourself,” Sniper murmured, voice a hum, sounding much more relaxed and much less grumpy than usual.

“Again soon?” he managed, tilting his head towards her.

A hum of affirmation, a pause. “You’re sleeping here, by the way,” she informed him, squeezing with the arm around his chest.

“Hell yeah,” he murmured. “Uh. I wake up kinda early, just so you know.”

She hummed again. “You gonna do the whole nine yards, cook breakfast and all that nonsense?” she mumbled in a deadpan.

“Well usually it’s ‘cuz I go for a run in the morning,” he explained, “but sure, if you want. Got plenty of exercise already, huh?”

A light smack to his flank only made him giggle more, and he felt her shaking her head at him. “Hooligan,” she chided like a term of endearment, and that was when he became certain that he hadn’t fucked everything up.

Well, yet, but he figured if he made it this far, maybe he really did stand a chance.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael After Midnight: “Pregnant Pussy” by UGK

[TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE, PEDOPHILIA, ETC. NOT SAFE FOR WORK, NOT SAFE FOR LIFE. THE SUBJECT OF THIS REVIEW IS A SONG FEATURING EXTREMELY DEPRAVED LYRICAL CONTENT.  PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION.]

 In the year 2010, A Serbian Film was released. The movie is something I refuse to ever watch or review, and for very good reason: the film is unrepentantly bleak, miserable and, oh yeah, it features an infamous scene involving, as the movie describes it, “newborn porn,” where a newborn baby is raped onscreen. As I’m sure you can imagine, I (and anyone who enjoys keeping the contents of their stomach firmly within said organ) really do not think baby fucking is alright. But of course, no one could possibly ever come up with something more depraved than this, right?

Well, I wish I could say that, but almost two decades before that twisted movie, the rap duo UGK (comprised of members Pimp C and Bun B) managed to one-up that fucked up shit. 

The early 90s was a wild time for rap music, where violent, edgy gangster rap and the most ludicrous, over-the-top shit thrived. Look at some of the early work by rappers like Snoop Dogg or Eminem, with the cartoonish, boundary-pushing violence and offensive lyrical content. This was the norm. But UGK, most famous for guest starring in Jay-Z’s “Big Pimpin,” went one step beyond everyone else on their Banned EP. On said EP was a song called “Pregnant Pussy,” a song so absolutely fucked up and depraved it would probably give GG Allin pause.

I am going to go line by line of this song and dissect the sheer depravity of this be-all end-all of edgy, offensive humor. This is your last chance. You can still walk away.

The song begins almost normally, with a slow buildup to the music, but as soon as the main instrumental hits we are slapped in the face with the chorus, which unfortunately is one of the tames lyrics in the entire song:

Pregnant pussy is the best you can get Fucking a bitch while her baby sucking dick

So hopefully you can see the problem here. The problem is that Bun B and Pimp C have a crucial misunderstanding of how pregnancy works. Also they’re pedophiles I guess. This line is repeated a couple of times to let it really sink in, let it really hit you what exactly is being sung, to the point where you might not even notice the line that closes out this opening chorus:

I got your fat pregnant bitch in my waterbed And I'm 'bout to bust a nut on your little baby's head

To be fair, this one is kind of tame in comparison.

Now for our first verse, Pimp C takes the mic and comes in strong!

I guess you can call me a family man Cause I care for bitches' babies every chance that I can

As we are about to find out, no. We can’t call Pimp C a family man. We should not even allow him near babies, and here’s why:

I don't give 'em clothes, or diapers and shit But I like to feed they babies with my big black dick

This is actually a running theme with this song. I’m not simply talking about the rappers and their desire to get fellated by unborn babies, I’m talking about how they casually drop lines like that before switching to stuff that’s comparatively normal and even tame (or tame by the standards of a song about getting blowjobs from fetuses).

Like, look at the lines immediately after the above:

Cause I'ma tell you if you didn't know You ain't did shit 'til you fucked a pregnant hoe The pussy is hotter, it's got a extra kick It feel like hot potato pie around your dick Sometimes I swing high, sometimes I swing low Sometimes I like to fuck a pregnant bitch on my floor Hit it kinda hard, and speed it up fast Fuck her 'til she get the cherry blisters on her ass

It’s filthy and extreme, yes, but this is honestly the sort of horny, crass shit you’d expect from a rap song like this. This is normal, this is... well, “good” is a bit of a strong word, but you know, I’ll take it. Of course, immediately after those lines we get hit with this:

Cause if she expecting, I can satisfy And at the same time, give her kid a pacifier And I love it when I bust that old nut Cause I know that her baby's just gon' lick it all up

This is why we can’t have nice things.

The second verse has Bun B, the other half of UGK, step up to the mic and he delivers more comparatively normal, raunchy, old school rap sentiment:

Ain't no pussy like one impregnated A pussy made for nutting in, I could never hate it A swoll pussy hole is the best on earth And a big dick helps make an easy childbirth I love the big titties but I hate the taste of milk And a bigger, fatter ass on my dick is smooth as silk

Like yeah, this is vulgar and all, but this is pretty good. In their own weird rapper way, they’re showing love for pregnant women, and who says pregnant women shouldn’t get a rap song about how sexy and desirable they are? Maybe this is a turning point for the song, maybe from here things get bet--

Now if she got a boy, it ain't fun But if she got a girl, then it's two pussies for the price of one

The more I listen to this song, the more I feel like these two are just joking, but... why tell this kind of joke? I can’t deny this is funny in a shock humor kind of way, like “Jesus Christ why the fuck are these guys talking about cumming on unborn babies?” but it’s such a fleeting feeling. 

Eventually as I listen to the song more and more I become desensitized to the shock and it just leaves me wondering why they thought this was a good idea to record? Did they just decide to go to the most repulsive extreme possible so that no one else ever would?

Once again the song seems like it’s going to be normal. We get like one normal rhyme this time, and then we’re hit with this:

I'm fucking all over the womb Now I move your baby to the side so I can get a little room

This song is pretty definitive proof as to why God no longer speaks with us.

I love to fuck them pregnant hoes Your baby's sneezing out nuts because I bust one in his nose So when your little child is born I bet the motherfucker tell you pregnant pussy got it going on

So, this part here is interesting. We’ve now heard from Pimp C and Bun B, we’ve heard both of them talk about how they love fucking pregnant women and indulging in their weird unborn pedophilia fetish, and that last line is delivered with the exact sort of tone you’d expect from a song wrapping up. It’s followed by the chorus and you think “Sweet fuck, they can’t go any further, can they? This has to be it. They dropped the fucking title in a verse, that’s it, they’re done.”

Sorry to disappoint you, but we live in a cruel, uncaring world.

You see, fuckin' pregnant pussy is simple All you gotta do is hope the baby think your dickhead is a nipple And if the cum snatcha stimulate my sack He just might get a fat load of Similac And if he start kicking, I'ma keep sticking Go a little deeper, give his bad ass a whipping Within nine months, I can hit it late or sooner It's me, Miss Jones, and Mr. Jones Junior And once I get the bitch in the raw Me and her kid can have a nice ménage à trois So believe I ain't kicking no bullshit Cause pregnant pussy is the best you can get

So yes, Pimp C drops this final, nightmarish verse, and then the chorus plays us out.

So, what do I think of the song? What was the point of all this? Is there enough bleach in the world to get this song out of your head?

Well, I think this song is utterly repulsive... but also rather fascinating. It makes songs like Eminem’s “Kim,” which is a six-minute murder fantasy where Em slaughters the titular woman, a six year old, and her boyfriend look incredibly tame. The lyrical content is just a non-stop pedophilic nightmare that goes beyond edgy humor and just leaves you feeling gross and uncomfortable.

But it’s just... fascinating because of that. This shit right here isn’t just a trainwreck. This is a train genocide. Pimp C and Bun B rounded up good taste, lined it up against the wall, and executed it with extreme prejudice. I almost don’t want to get mad, or offended, or disgusted at this, because I feel like if I do the boys of UGK win. The more I listen to this, the more I feel like this is just the ultimate troll song, sputing the most utterly repulsive lyrics one could ever conceive of just to garner a reaction. And I mean, it works.

Frankly, like or hate this song. Either reaction is understandable. I don’t know if this song can even be measured in metrics like “good” or “bad,” it’s just so beyond the realms of good taste, regular taste, human sensation...This shit right here is the sort of thing that almost tanked James Gunn’s career, and somehow these two went on to rap alongside the man Jay-Z himself. Is there any justice in this world? No, no there isn’t, not even a little bit.

But there is pregnant pussy. And I guess that’s something.