#pleasures of the harbor

[balladofsallyrose]

Phil Ochs, Pleasures of the Harbor photo session (1967)

[imgonnasayitnow]

Phil Ochs reading the liner notes poem from Pleasures of the Harbor

from an interview with Studs Terkel

[onemorecupofcoffee]

[muffinlance]

I was wondering... Is there a Salvage headcanon where they did break Zuko's leg? If no one (including you ofc) ever did it, you can treat it as a prompt!!

So many angsty possibilities, and as much as I love and adore the original plot.... man, I'm so curious what would happen.

So what I’m hearing is that you like pain. Who am I to deny you?

(You can also read this on AO3.)

* * *

“Chief?” Aake repeated, kneeling over the still struggling boy. Pinning him down. 

The prince wasn’t even fully lucid, and this was already his second escape attempt. He’d tried to firebend at Hakoda’s crew, with only his own fever to stop him. He was a child, by any reasonable standards; but a soldier, by his own nation’s, with the training to match. He was only going to get more dangerous. If the Fire Nation wanted to set the terms of this war, then be it on Ozai’s head. 

“One,” Hakoda said. One leg had to be enough, to keep the young soldier down.

* * *

When Zuko’s fever broke, he had a black bruise around his wrist the size of a grown man’s hand, and a broken leg the storm hadn’t given him. 

He had to get off this ship.

* * *

The prince knocked out two of Hakoda’s men. Sent another three to Healer Kustaa, with firebending that had thankfully been more concussive than blistering. Oh, and he’d managed to shove one of their tenders overboard. So now they were having to turn around to search for that, in the dark.

He’d half-way gotten himself overboard, too. It was anyone’s guess whether he’d have landed close enough to that boat to make it, with the weight of his cast dragging him down. 

A moot point, as he struggled in Aake’s grip.

“I did say legs,” the man joked, humorlessly.

Hakoda tried to meet the prince’s eyes, but the soldier was too intent on battering himself against Aake’s hold. He met his crewman’s eyes, instead. Nodded.

Aake sighed. “Right. This is happening, kid. Hold still this time if you want it to be clean.”

The prince, eerily, did hold still. He didn’t scream. He hadn’t last time, either.

* * *

(Father hadn’t stopped burning him until he’d stopped screaming.)

* * *

“It’s coca-poppy, Prince Zuko,” Healer Kustaa said, from behind a re-locked door. “It will help with the pain.”

“I know what it is,” the prince shouted. “I don’t want it.”

Across the passageway, behind the door of his own cabin, Hakoda composed another ransom letter. This one ended up crumpled on his floor, too.

How did you tell a father that you’d broken both his boy’s legs? Things would be easier if— 

Well. They still had that interrogation to get through, before he saw whether there’d be an if.

* * *

“She was alive when I last saw her. Your son, too. Sir.”

“...With the Avatar,” Hakoda repeated.

“Yes,” the prince said, staring up at the sickbay ceiling. “...Sir.”

Hakoda rubbed his temples. “I’ll be confirming your story. Until then: ship rules. You already know the price of escape. You have two more limbs, Prince Zuko; take more care with them. Firebend at my men again, or damage my ship, and your chances are done. You’re going to stay in here and obey every order our healer gives you, or I’ll be back in for another talk. Am I clear?”

“Yes. Sir.”

Sweat was beading on the prince’s forehead. His hands kept clenching and unclenching around his blankets. Let him be in pain, if he wanted; Kustaa had already offered him an out.

* * * 

The doctor on Zuko’s ship had started him on coca-poppy before he’d known he was on a ship. Before he remembered what had happened, before his vision was clear enough to read the banishment notice for himself. Uncle had fussed over every little sound he made, and made sure Zuko drank every dose.

It took him a year and a half to get back off it.

* * *

Kustaa had prescribed at least an hour on deck each day. Firebenders and sunlight, or something. The prince sullenly allowed himself to be carried by a crewman and propped up out of the way. 

Panuk watched him watching the waves. He went below deck, and came back with a plate. Set it on the deck between them, and sat himself down next to it.

“Drowning is not a pretty way to go,” he said conversationally, between bites of smoked fish the prince was pointedly not sharing.

“Is being murdered by savages any better?” the prince snapped, finally looking away from the water. 

Panuk chewed. Swallowed. Used his foot to nudge the plate against the prince’s leg. Above the break, obviously.

“Are you going to eat?”

The prince looked… really confused. He looked down at the plate, then back up at Panuk, then around them, like he was looking for a net about to fall.

Which explained why he’d snubbed Toklo yesterday, when their youngest crewman had tried to have lunch with him.

“It’s common to share meals in the Southern Tribes,” Panuk said. “If someone sets a plate down next to you, it’s probably for sharing.”

“...Oh,” said the prince. He picked up a piece. Ate it, slowly, while sneaking glances over at Panuk. Ate the second a lot faster.

“We’d make it quick,” Panuk said. “If your dad doesn’t meet Hakoda’s demands, or if you screw up again. Quicker than the ocean would, at least.”

“...I don’t want the Leg Breaker to do it. Or the Chief.”

“I could volunteer. If it comes to it.”

“...Okay,” the prince said, and ate a third fish. And a fourth. 

“How old are you, anyway?” Panuk asked, eyebrow raised.

Prince Zuko, fearsome prisoner of the Akhlut, was sixteen years old. 

* * *

Prince Zuko, sixteen-year-old prisoner of the Akhlut, was bored.

“What?” he snapped at the healer, who’d stopped to give him that disappointed stare.

“How did you even reach that?” the man asked.

Zuko hunched over his borrowed book, and didn’t answer.

“Ask next time. I’ll help you get them down.”

Then the man went back to doing whatever it was he did in here, with all his powders and ointments. Maybe Zuko would understand, if he read far enough.

“Ask if you have questions, too,” Not-Uncle said.

…So Zuko did.

* * *

General Fong wanted the kid. General Fong wanted a lot of things he couldn’t have.

We have secured his cooperation, Hakoda wrote back. While I thank you for your offer, we do not anticipate the need for army assistance during the negotiation process—

* * * 

Hakoda tried not to go into the healer’s cabin without cause. It was unpleasant, the way the boy spooked every time a crewman stepped in. The way he watched them with those wolf-hawk eyes, coiled like a pit-viper-leopard ready to spring, broken legs or no. But the door was open, and…

“Just pet him. Come on, one itty-bitty little ruffle-wuffle…” Toklo cajoled, pushing a growling isopuppy towards the prince’s face.

“No. He’s going to maul me,” the prince snapped, holding one of Kustaa’s medical texts between them like a shield.

“That was not a mauling,” said Panuk. “That was barely one itty-bitty little blood-draw. Just shove the seal jerky between his teeth when he lunges, then pet him. We’ll train him that you mean food—”

“How is that going to help with the biting?” the prince demanded.

Hakoda backed away before he could be seen. 

…Apparently there were exceptions, in who the prince himself wouldn’t maul. 

* * *

Apparently Hakoda’s dog was now one of those exceptions.

Fire Nation sympathizer.

* * * 

Bato came back.

“So,” his second-in-command said. “Fire Prince in the sickbay, huh?”

Hakoda groaned into his hands.

* * *

“Did you name the dog?” the prince asked Bato. The kid was sitting up in his bed, propped up on pillows, draped in at least three layers of furs and an oversized coat. Which explained where Kustaa’s had gone. He was, inexplicably, holding one of Kustaa’s medicine jars between his hands.

“Interrogating the prisoner already, nephew?” Kustaa asked, setting out the last of his supplies. Then he reached for the bandages. Bato braced himself.

“Did you?” the kid said. And then, after a delay: “You are not my uncle.”

“At least wait for the torture to get started,” Bato said, through gritted teeth, as Kustaa tugged the edge of his bandage loose in what was probably the gentlest way but felt anything but. 

He couldn’t have said if the prince kept pressing the matter, after that. Not until Kustaa was spreading on that miracle salve of his. In its tiny jar. Its tiny, near-empty jar.

“...Are we out of that stuff?” Bato asked, with some trepidation.

“We’re making more,” Kustaa said.

…The jar between the kid’s hands was steaming now. And he was still scowling.

“He volunteered,” the healer added, cleaning up.

Huh.

“I was making fun of Hakoda,” Bato said. “Not his son. Sokka’s a good kid.”

“So name the dog Hakoda,” the Fire Prince said, with a scowling seriousness that made the joke even better. 

* * *

“Good boy, Hakoda. Who’s our Chief Woofer? Is it you? Is it you? Yes it is!”

“I hate you,” Hakoda said. “Go back to the nuns.”

The pupper thumped his tail against the deck, and barked for more jerky. Who was Bato to deny his chief?

* * *

“Wait,” Bato said, stretching his burned arm out slowly, and staring at the newest medicine pot the kid was heating. “Didn’t Hakoda order you not to bend?”

He’d never seen golden eyes that wide, or a pot boil over that fast.

* * *

“So,” Bato said, leaning against Hakoda’s doorway. “You ordered the kid not to firebend, but you also ordered him to follow Kustaa’s orders. Guess what Kustaa’s had him doing?”

“He what,” Hakoda said, standing. He marched across the hall, to where his healer was rubbing some kind of salve on their prisoner’s hands. “You have him firebending?”

Somehow, the kid’s eyes got even wider.

* * *

So. It turned out the prince needed to meditate. Badly.

* * *

The Fire Lord’s first reply arrived. Hakoda took in some meditative breaths of his own, then made sure the isopuppy followed him across to the healer’s cabin. 

“Prince Zuko,” he said. Levelly. Reasonably. After his dog had jumped up into the kid’s arms. “Can you tell me why your father thinks the letter you sent him was a forgery?”

“It wasn’t,” the prince said, like that was the issue.

Hakoda pinched the bridge of his nose. 

* * *

They needed proof of life. Proof they had the kid at all. 

The Fire Lord’s son got a haircut. 

Hakoda would have had Aake do it, but Panuk volunteered. Their second-youngest crewman and the prince had a brief stare off, before the prince lowered his head for the knife. Panuk did it in one slice; handed it off to Hakoda, without looking at him. Then he sat down behind the kid, and tidied up the cut. The prince had already been growing stubble over the rest of his scalp; it was just a matter of evening it out.

Hakoda sent the long phoenix plume with his next reply.

* * * 

The Fire Lord responded with fingers. 

* * *

The kid saved Kustaa’s life. Had the burns to show for it, too. 

* * *

He still expected Hakoda to take his.

Maybe in some other life, Hakoda would have known how to reassure him. In this one, he stepped out of his cabin, and sent in his dog and Kustaa.

* * *

It was… unpleasant, having someone on his ship that was afraid of him. Someone who wasn’t an enemy.

The kid could walk around now, some, with the crutches their ship’s carpenter had made for him. His burns were healing well; Bato had inducted him into the Burned Arm Club, which had an elite membership of two. No, the prince insisted, the time Toklo had accidentally burned himself on a ship’s lamp didn’t count. This, despite his own protests over the club’s very existence. 

He’d started yelling at the crewmen who—quote—wasted medical supplies by doing the same stupid things to themselves again—end quote. 

He didn’t even avoid Aake, though the Leg Breaker name had stuck, and spread amongst the crew.

“I understand the chain of command,” the kid said, stiffly, when Hakoda had asked. 

It had been Aake’s suggestion. But it had been Hakoda’s orders.

Hakoda watched the kid brought to tears over sea prunes. To laughter, when Bato figured out he was ticklish. The kid started warming up the crew’s breakfast in the mornings, because he was up anyway, and because he could. 

He… wasn’t a bad kid. But he’d never be one of Hakoda’s. 

* * *

General How sent a letter. It was significantly more diplomatic than the latest from Fong. 

—a child of such value in an active warzone. Likewise, the prince should be continuing his tutelage in matters of state and such subjects as befit his station and future, and to build in him an appreciation for the support a joint backing by our nations could provide. You would be welcome to send with him a delegation representing Southern Water Tribe interests—

* * *

“You’re selling me to the Earth Kingdom,” the prince said, sitting across from Hakoda at the desk. 

“I’m…” There would be no money exchanged in the transaction. But that didn’t change its nature. “...It’s the best circumstances I can provide for you, Prince Zuko.”

“It’s just Zuko,” the prince said. “I’m banished. And dead. Remember? Sir.”

Hakoda sighed. “Pack your things, Zuko.”

The prince looked at him a moment more, then left. It wasn’t until later that Hakoda realized the boy didn’t have anything to pack. He’d come to him with the clothes on his back, and that was how he’d leave.

* * * 

The Water Tribe delegation consisted of Toklo and Panuk. Kustaa was needed on the ship. 

“Look, they sent a carriage,” Toklo said, leaning over the rail. The General’s men were already waiting for them on the docks. 

“Fancy,” Panuk said.

None of them mentioned the prince’s continued need for crutches, nor the impossibility of him making the trip by ostrich-horse. Hakoda was glad the general had sent a carriage, rather than a wagon. It was a relatively auspicious start.

The boy himself was sitting on a barrel, his crutches propped beside him. The isopup leaned against his legs, three hind pereopods drumming against the deck as he enjoyed a good ear scratching. It was impossible to explain to him that this was the last he’d get from firebender-warm hands. Or that when he scratched at the healer’s cabin tonight, there’d only be an empty bed inside. The boy had slept with Hakoda’s dog more in the past months than Hakoda had during this entire voyage. 

Hakoda cleared his throat. The boy didn’t startle, thankfully. 

“What?” he asked, eyes on the soldiers waiting for him, as their crew tied up to the pier.

“You could… take him with you,” Hakoda said. “The dog. He’s more yours than mine, these days.”

The prince’s breathing hitched. His hand stopped scratching, which led to nuzzling and play-nibbles, before he resumed. 

“I can’t,” he said. “I don’t know if they’ll hurt him.”

Hakoda didn’t make any other offers. 

His crew secured the boarding ramp. 

“It’s your last chance,” Panuk said, giving the boy a nudge. “Go.”

And then the prince was hugging their healer, and if he was crying, that was between him and the man’s shirt. The kid was still wearing Kustaa’s oversized coat. 

“You’re still not my uncle,” he said, into the man’s shoulder.

“You don’t get to choose your uncles, brat,” Kustaa said, hugging his nephew back.

* * *

The isopuppy prowled the ship all night, searching.

* * *

After the war—after the coalition of nations, after that uneasy alliance with the Dragon of the West and the sharp-toothed smiles he had specifically for Hakoda, after the peace talks and the compromises—

After. 

The new Fire Lord had a council with all nations represented. Hakoda sent Bato, and Sokka. Panuk was already there. Toklo had gone home, to a sister that didn’t remember him, but was still young enough to accept him back within the week. 

Katara left for the Fire Nation, too, when news reached them of the Avatar finally being found. She joined the other Southern healer in residence in managing his care. If Kustaa resented a teenager whose qualifications consisted of “magic water” stepping into his domain, Hakoda never heard of it. And he did still hear from the man, in the occasional letter home.

The Avatar, one letter read, was extremely pleased to have graduated to a cane matching his nephew’s. His nephew was less enthused.

* * *

Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe was not invited to the coronation of Fire Lord Zuko.

[pleasuresoftheharbor]

everyone tell me your token phil ochs song 😁 not necessarily your favorite or the one you think is the best but the one that makes you think Yayyy that's my song!

[goldentwst]

My god, a spin off of the masquerade event basically writes itself:

You got a character based off of Frollo, Rollo, the OG consumed-by-lust-freak, you got Malleus who couldn’t be happier that you’re tagging along to Noble Bell College, throw in the fact Rollo seems to acknowledge MC as an admirable person paired with his hate-crush on Malleus, who gets to spend time with you, add a bunch of jealousy on both ends, and it’s perfect.

That is to say, I’d feel better writing out the scenario once we have a grasp on why Rollo seems to hold Malleus with contempt(?), but you can bet that I am staring at this event with eyes wide open. 👀👀

[fallen-goldfishcracker]

Wyll is so fucking funny and no amount of acknowledgement about this could ever be enough. He's literally walking around being so casually hilarious completely under-the-radar. He calls Halsin a "thick hunk of an elf". He once accidently implied that he was fucking an ogre instead of killing it and then proceeded to absolutely stumble his way through explaining. He gets excited by Lae'zel talking about carnal pleasures. He canonically tells his pessimistic thoughts to shut the hell up. He volunteers to babysit Shadowheart's hypothetical werewolf babies as long as she gets him gloves. He tries to give Gale a hero moniker like his own. He jokes that his father, the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate, can't spell. He calls Astarion "Mister Fangs". He makes up storybook chapter names for his own fucking adventures. As a child he got chased by the Flaming Fist for stealing fruit, nearly drowned trying to find mermaids in the harbor, and almost successfully broke into the Counting House. He reads monster erotica, and is not ashamed to tell you about it. He ranks eating pudding among life's greatest moments. He will, without shame and completely unprompted, meow at you. He is 24 years old.

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Kafka

[balladofsallyrose]

Phil Ochs: Pleasures of The Harbor (1967)

[anantaru]

cw. dragoncock, size kink, fem! reader

dragon zhongli who has to fuck you with his fat tip before he can even do anything more than that, your jaw hanging open as he shifts your lower half towards him— his trembling breath on your skin weeping, his nocturnal and safe cradle rounding up this dance of tension as your eyes turn into heart.

it's everywhere, zhongli was everywhere, invading your senses and penetrating your nostrils with his gracious, galvanizing scent— not to mention how sweat and all kinds of fluids were now pooling stickily onto your belly, thighs and cunt. you moan salaciously at the further stretch, sensing a heart beat on your warm sex as zhongli gives you another inch, not failing to see you absolutely loving it with that clouded grin on your lips.

his tip slides deeper and the copious amount of cum surely aided him in that, fueling an additional stretch on you while zhongli stays like that for a while, in you, forcing you to feel his large length push into your walls— the man knows he cannot let you indulge too much though, you'll either get a little greedy or it'll end up being a bit too much for your sweet, little cunt to bear, especially with the way he'd pinch and nudge against the swollen regions inside you with thrilling pressure.

zhongli was massive and a part of him feared that he'd be too much.

your hips roll up to meet his small thrusts, which were pitiful grinds if anything as zhongli looks at how your pussy was swallowing him suggestively, feeling entirely wanton as the sensations cascaded through him with a heady lust that transcended every expectation inside of his heart.

you know that if his fat cock hurts you, he will stop immediately and resort back in fucking you with his thick tip, because of course, zhongli wants you go enjoy it, there was nothing else he wanted more.

he always tells you to take your time until you're used to his shape, his size and his pace— used to his sensual movements which served as an invitation to your body spasming beneath his dominating one.

someone with such experience which zhongli harbored, wasn’t necessarily shy in his doings, not at all, in fact— he's blunt, experienced when he grabs your hips to him and pull his steadily hardening cock against the tight opening of your hole a bit more.

now, halfway through, you show him how obediently your walls throb around him when he fucks you, when he feeds your cunt with his aching erection until it's settled in a position you're pleased in and your legs get all sore, pushing you to a place of pleasure and harmony like anything you had known before.

it felt like it belonged here, just as it felt like you couldn't possibly move your hips anymore by how full you were of him— and his draconic instincts emerge as his eyes glow of divinity and lust, his shaft pushing into every bit of space your hole could offer.

dropping your head back into the pillows, you feel a knot forming in your stomach until it started to scratch and throb in you, yet the sensation of being overcrowded by his cock made it difficult to decide if it was your orgasm building up or if zhongli had already invaded the literal guts of you.

his thick, oozy cum was making the friction nearly unbearable to ignore as it turns you more sensitive— aside from the fact that his seed was impossibly hot, almost as if it was trying to burn through your walls when all it did was turn you needier. it has your body covered in his filth, and your voice was too broken with moans and gasps to form words as you mewl into his mouth with every touch and thrust.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[pleasuresoftheharbor]

new pfp yayyy :)

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, Bakugo jacking off, se*ual fantasies, male orgasm, ejaculation

Summary: you're Bakugo's roommate, and although you hardly ever interact, Katsuki secretly develops intense feelings for you. Unable to gather the courage to confess, he silently admires you from a distance — until the day he stumbles upon your OnlyFans account

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

Living with Bakugo Katsuki was always an unpredictable ride. He was a walking firestorm - intense, brash, and always on the edge of exploding. But after a few months of sharing an apartment with him, you’d come to realize something: Bakugo wasn’t just a chaos incarnate. He was meticulous, sometimes even thoughtful, and despite his rough edges, he’d never once crossed any boundaries.

You’d gotten the room through your mutual friend, Kirishima, and Bakugo had agreed reluctantly. 

From the very beginning, he’d kept his distance - never really speaking unless necessary, and most of the time he stayed in his room, went on missions or trained late into the night. 

You could feel his eyes on you sometimes, though, watching silently, like a predator sizing up his prey. But whenever you looked, he was back to his usual aloof self.

What you didn’t know was that Bakugo was harboring a dangerous attraction to you. He’d never admit it, not to you, and definitely not to himself. You were out of his league. Too sweet, too gorgeous, and the very idea of being vulnerable enough to confess his feelings made him grit his teeth in frustration. He'd fantasized about you countless times though - his imagination running wild with ideas of what it would feel like to claim you. But he buried those desires deep, thinking you'd never look at him the way he wanted.

That was, until one night.

Bakugo had come home late from a mission, exhausted but restless. After a shower, he threw himself onto his bed and mindlessly scrolled through his phone, his thumb hovering over the OnlyFans app. He opened it to unwind, expecting to see the usual faces he followed. 

Katsuki wasn’t the type to do things halfway. Whether it was in battle or in bed, he always gave everything he had. He liked control, craved it, and when it came to sex, that desire for dominance only amplified.There was something about seeing his girls completely undone - driven to the point of exhaustion, their minds hazy and bodies twitching from overstimulation - that made his blood rush straight to his meaty, veiny cock. He loved it. Loved fucking them stupid, pushing them until they were too weak to even move, taking them apart piece by piece until they were nothing more than a quivering, overstimulated mess. He'd fuck them hard, in the deepest, most mind-numbing positions that left them gasping for air, so lost in the pleasure that they couldn’t think straight. And when he was done, when he was satisfied and had cum deep inside them, he’d sit back and admire his work - the way his cum would slowly dribble out of their abused, slippery holes, their bodies so spent they couldn’t even squirm at the discomfort. That sight alone was enough to make him hard all over again. 

Not everyone could keep up with him. He knew that. His sex drive was relentless, and sometimes, it was easier to find that satisfaction elsewhere - somewhere he didn’t have to hold back or deal with the aftermath. Because that was the thing about Bakugo Katsuki - he didn’t just fuck. He conquered. 

That’s why he liked OnlyFans. It was a place where he could explore the things that got him going without any strings attached.

Bakugo liked to watch. He followed plenty of girls there who reminded him of the kind of sex he liked to have - the ones who weren’t afraid to push their limits, who would ride their toys until their legs were shaking, their eyes fluttering in that tell-tale sign of pleasure that had turned to something far more intense. The girls who let him imagine fucking them so stupid, until they couldn’t even think, until all they could do was huff and puff his name into the mattress, their bodies boneless, overwhelmed, claimed his.

Upon spotting a familiar figure suggested in his feed, he felt his entire body go rigid.

It was you.

No fucking way, he thought to himself, eyes wide in disbelief. There you were, posing in a barely-there lace bra and panties, your lips curved into a teasing smile. You looked so different - so confident, so seductive - nothing like the girl he passed by in the hallway every day. His cock immediately stirred, blood rushing south as he continued to stare, unable to believe his eyes.

Bakugo's mind raced, trying to process the image. You had an OnlyFans? Fuck, that’s hot. The realization hit him like a truck - he could actually watch you, see more of you than he'd ever imagined.

Without thinking, he subscribed, and a moment later, a notification popped up: “New subscriber: ExplosiveKing.”

His cock twitched at the sight of your next photo - a close-up of your tits spilling out of the lacey bra, your nipples hard and pushing against the fabric. Then came a greeting message, and Bakugo almost dropped his phone when he saw it.

Thanks for subscribing, handsome ♡ Hope you enjoy the content! 

You even attached a photo of you in nothing but a thong, your ass up and face turned towards the camera with a playful wink.

He groaned softly, his cock already straining against his boxers as he stared at the image, replaying every interaction you two had ever had. All the tension, all the moments he pushed away, came rushing back in an overwhelming wave of desire. His dick was dribbling more precum into boxers, the fabric going from damp to soaked quickly as he feverishly sought his release.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, already palming himself through his Kalvin Clein boxers. His left hand reached down, cupping his dick through his pants. "Nnnnhhh," he couldn't stop the soft and breathy moan that escaped him as he flipped his dick up, into a more comfortable position. His hips were already pushing forward, into his hand. He needed more.

His fingers fumbled as he tugged his boxers down, needing relief as he gripped his length, hard and throbbing. His breathing grew heavy, and within seconds, his rough hand was wrapped around his cock, the image of your perfect ass burning in his mind. He pumped himself slowly at first, his imagination running wild. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you lived just a few feet away from him, and here he was, jerking off to your nudes. 

"Shit, you're perfect," he muttered under his breath, eyes glued to the screen as he pumped his cock. He imagined your hands on him instead, the way your soft lips would feel against the tight skin on his rock-hard cock, the sound of your breathy, sloppy moans in his ear. His grip tightened, matching the pace of his fantasy, biting his lip to muffle the groan threatening to escape.

As he stroked himself faster, the guilt began to fade, replaced by raw, animalistic desire. You’d never know. And hell, if you were posting this shit for other guys to see, then why not him?

It didn’t take long before he was groaning your name under his breath, imagining you on top of him, your tight body grinding down on his cock. The idea of having you - right there, in the flesh - made his pulse race. His fist moved faster, eyes squeezed shut as he pictured the way you’d look riding him, those soft lips of yours gasping for breath as he filled you up with his meaty dick.

His imagination ran wild - your pretty face, your tits bouncing as he fucked you senseless, the way you’d cry his name. That thought alone sent him spiraling, his cock twitching. With a low growl, Bakugo came hard, hot ropes of cum spilling onto his hand as he panted, chest heaving. He kept pumping, riding the high of his orgasm, but even as the pleasure subsided, he couldn't get you out of his head. 

For a moment, guilt flickered in the back of his mind again. You were his roommate. Hell, you were always so nice to him, always sweet and considerate. And here he was, jerking off to your pics in secret. But as his phone buzzed with a new notification, that guilt quickly dissolved into something primal. 

You had just started a live stream.

Bakugo's cock twitched in his hand again as he opened your stream. 

You were sitting on your bed, wearing a cute little lingerie set that clung to your body in all the right ways, thigh-high stockings completing the look. His breath caught in his throat as he watched you adjust the camera, giving everyone a perfect view of your body. "Hey, cuties!" you chirped happily, the camera lighting up with your playful smile as more viewers trickled in. "Hope you're ready for some fun tonight!"

ExplosiveKing: Damn, doll, you look fucking amazing tonight

"Aw, thank you, ExplosiveKing!" you giggled, reading his comment. "So sweet of you to join!"

Hearing you say his username in that sexy, cheerful voice of yours set something off in him. His eyes darkened with lust as he started stroking his slobbery cock again, the thought of you calling out to him making him harder than ever.

You started off slow, teasing your viewers with gentle touches, running your hands over your body as you spoke sweetly to them. But when you pulled out the vibrator, Bakugo nearly lost it. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his pulse racing as he watched you slip the toy between your legs, letting out soft moans as you teased yourself.

He couldn't take his eyes off you. Every little gasp, every roll of your hips - it was driving him wild. He matched your pace, fucking his fist like he was fucking you, imagining how your pussy would feel clenching around him.

Then, as if reading his mind, you slid the vibrator inside your already sopping pussy, your breath hitching as you moaned for your audience. 

Bakugo bit his lip hard, stroking himself faster as he imagined what it’d be like to have you under him, begging for his cock. His grip tightened, pumping his length in time with your movements, chasing that high again. 

It happened so quickly that his brain barely registered the exact moment.

His cum surged up through his throbbing, overstimulated cock in powerful spurts, spilling and bubbling from the slick, swollen tip, leaving a thick trail of pearly semen coating his hand and seeping through his fingers as Katsuki moaned your name. 

The young man fervently hoped you hadn’t overheard him from your bedroom.

Weeks passed, and Bakugo’s obsession with you only grew. He watched every stream, donated more than anyone else, and even bought his first sex toy - a pocket pussy - just to mimic fucking you when you used your toys on camera. Every Wednesday and Friday became his ritual. He’d lock himself in his room, pull out his laptop, and jerk off until his cock was raw and spent. Sometimes he'd cum three or four times in a single stream, completely lost in the fantasy of you.

But as much as he enjoyed it, it started to get under his skin. The other men watching you, the ones leaving comments and drooling over you - it pissed him off. You were his. He hated knowing they were getting off to you too, even though you were right there, living with him, just down the hall.

One night, after one of your streams, you noticed something unusual - ExplosiveKing had donated more than usual. 

There was a short comment attached to the donation:

"You have a way of getting under my skin like no one else. No matter how many others are watching, you’re mine in a way they’ll never understand."

And honestly? You didn’t mind. Among all your fans, he stood out as your favorite - dedicated, generous, and mysterious.

What you didn’t know, though, was that the man behind the screen was Katsuki Bakugo, your roommate. That the same explosive hero you lived with was jerking off to you multiple times a week, falling deeper into his secret obsession with every stream.

He wasn’t merely your biggest fan - he was the man who longed for you entirely to himself, who fantasized about fucking you dumb every time he heard your sweet voice. For now, Bakugo remained hidden in the shadows, silently worshiping you from his bedroom, awaiting the day he would muster the courage to reveal just how desperate he was to be your boyfriend.

[tottentz]

IN PRIVATE ── honkai star rail, nsfw, mdni ౨ৎ⠀⠀or little nasty things they do during sex ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ gender neutral reader⠀/⠀ft. aventurine, dr. ratio, gepard, blade, sunday, dan heng, jing yuan, argenti. ♡ˎˊ˗

 — AVENTURINE ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho guides your movements. aventurine becomes a gentle orchestrator, leading you through the delicate dance of intimacy. aventurine's presence becomes a steady anchor, guiding with a gentle yet confident touch a soft guidance that navigates the contours of desire with a tender assurance: his hands are soft, gentle, at your skin, at your hips, but his mouth is always brutal, suckling and nipping at any accessible skin. aventurine always busy himself by cleaving at every inch of your skin as if integrating every square inch of your withering figure into memory. each caress is a testament to his innate understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the deeper yearnings that he does not allow himself to express in words. and you just know he mean it when he holds your face with both hands, soft eyes smiling along with him when he succeeded; obtained your focus

— DR. RATIO ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho has gentle but firm control. dr. ratio's touch is a blend of gentle guidance and confident assertion, navigating the dance of desire with a poised assurance. his touch, though restrained, carries a profound sense of understanding and expertise, navigating with precision and care even if he purposefully teased you to receive an earful of whiny whimpers that suggested he promptly exhort additional efforts or his cute, little lover would be compelled to execute empty threats. veritas presence exudes a calm authority, tempered by a keen intellect and a meticulous attention to detail. he struggles when conveying his harbored ardor, submitting to the intensity of heat that blossomed from the kindled fire of his heart, and so he claws the blunt tips of his fingers into your dough-like middle, eyelids fluttered to a gentle close as if he’d never receive another opportunity to hold you in his arms

— DAN HENG ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho likes to mark your body. he doesn't even realize he has this thing until he finds himself immersed in fantasies where your body is adorned with the evidence of his fervent affection—subtle bites and tender marks, and then it became a tendency to leave something of him in you: whether a gentle bite or a lingering touch, it's his desire for connection and a need to leave a lasting impression. dan heng blames his counterpart for such a primal urge to claim and be claimed in return, but he had become so fascinated, bewitchingly enamored, by illustrated wonders of your body, yet he so quickly abandoned his previous enchantment to consume himself with your intoxicating touch. dan heng's gestures reveal a raw honesty, he fervently irons an abundance of disorderly suckles to your neck, bruising the heated skin with contortions molded as the shape of his lips. 

— ARGENTI ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho pace is slow and deliberate. argenti's touch is deliberate and measured, his movements are methodical and precise, revealing a patient nature. in the quiet moments shared, you feel his presence as a steady anchor, guiding the rhythm of shared desire with a tranquil assurance. argenti's deliberate approach reflects a respect for the moment and a commitment to mutual pleasure, because he can’t find the resolve to peel his eyes away because you are a descendant from the heavens; a gift of abundant blessings to an unforgiving mortal who had deemed himself unworthy of your grace, but he were no saint. his calm and composed presence creates a sanctuary where time seems to slow, as he leisurely swallows your exhales of bliss as if previously deprived from the touch of intimacy. argenti always strives to leave your knees weak and buckled.

— BLADE ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho makes intense eye contact. blade harbors an ability to easily strip away what provisional confidence you previously claimed to possess. his gaze is impish; dark, divulging an impending uprising of unruly mischief. his crystalline optics glimmer beneath a murky coating, heavy lids droopy and irises fixated onto your figure as if he were presently eating you whole. blade just love the way he hums softly, cupping your cheek, thumbing away the tears you didn't notice spring into your eyes when he rendered your brain to mush and melted his forefront conscious into a haze of red lining. splotches of white dotted his vision, the colorless patches occasionally fading to reveal roads of gravel that endlessly stretched for miles. blade refuses to blink away the lovely sight of your countenance and meticulously etches the mesmerizing taste of your lips into lasting memory.

— JING YUAN ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho needs to breed you. his focus is singular, his touch deliberate yet gentle, as if every gesture carries the weight of unspoken promises. you always end up burning up, flesh flushed and eyes distant as if you were captivated by reminisce. he always apologizes with a "just one more, please?" and you just know he is not sorry at all, not with his breathy groans and hearty moans, eagerly asking if you'd let her try again. she convinces you that the last attempts were flukes; a warm up for the final challenge he kisses you so so sweet, makes you forgot about the ache in your thighs. he never fails to leave your puckered lips swollen and quivering by the conclusion of his endeavor, leaning away to observe your dazed state with a satisfactory hum of approval, drawing near as to rekindle the bruising force of his lips upon your own.

— SUNDAY ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho loves to see you cry. i'ts nothing, really. he just loves when you are brainless, thoughts melted into pretty pink goo oozing out of your ears onto the sheets, not a single brain cell active enough to answer him; because you are always good for him, always so sweet and kind and willing to give him whatever he wanted. his heart always softens at your tears. how could he say no to you? how could he deny those pretty eyes, so full of adoration and desperation then? so sweet. so lovely. he presses his forehead to you, and promise him the world. he makes you cum all over you again, only so he can see your teary face. and you always do, whining pitifully as you milk his cock for what it’s worth. he’s exhausted and broken and covered in cum and spit and lube, eyes filled with adoration as he looks at you. sunday, who gives you the loveliest pain.

— GEPARD ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho overstim you. he hushes you, pace not even slowing down as he chases his own high. but even when you’re gasping for air, for consciousness, fucked into another realm now, he’s still relentless, fucking deep and hard. he fucks you through his own orgasm, not even caring about how sensitive his cock’s gone. he doesn’t care, just wants to take you over and over and over. but you don’t tell him to stop, never tell him to stop. how could you, when you’re the only thing he can take so freel? you’d rather die than take it away from him, so you let him overstimulate you and himself as he murmurs, “one more, please" and then he's holding you so close to him. he’s burning hot, skin flushed and calloused but you find no greater heaven than in his arms, in his embrace, against him flaming skin to flaming skin.

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪

[jjkamochoso]

Matchmaking Mina

Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Your kind-hearted captain has taken it upon herself to stoke the flames of love between you and Soshiro!

Warnings: none

Captain Mina Ashiro may act aloof, but she wasn’t blind. Anyone in the Third Division could see that you and Soshiro were the perfect match for each other. If neither of you were going to make the first move, it was only right that she, as your trusted leader, guided you in the right direction. Only, of course, after assessing the situation to make sure you two really did like one another.

*Click*

Her phone captured a snapshot of you at lunch one day, laughing at something Kafka had said. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were creased with joy—you looked positively radiant. Mina made her way to Soshiro’s office, eager to begin her investigation.

“Captain,” Soshiro saluted, “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“Just stopping by. Checking on the status of your report from last week.”

“It’s almost done. I’ve been hard at work,” Soshiro grinned, sticking his pointer fingers out.

He’s in a pleasant mood. Let’s see if that changes.

“Good. I also came to show you a new picture of Bakko from the other day.”

It was a plausible excuse; Soshiro was a fan of cats as well and Mina was known for subjecting her friends and subordinates to monologues about how cute Bakko was. The vice captain was now standing by her side, peering over her shoulder at the phone in her hand.

“Here it is—oops! Wrong picture.”

Your picture was the one currently being displayed and from her peripheral vision, she saw Soshiro gulp ever so slightly, his eyes opened a bit wider. She was in no hurry, taking her time to slide her finger over the screen to the “correct” photo.

“Sorry about that. It was a cute photo, though, wasn’t it? Didn’t y/n look nice?”

“Huh? Yeah. I mean, sure,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears a rosy hue.

Now for the real test.

“I’d never seen her laugh so hard, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re around Kafka, right?”

There was an immediate shift of mood in the room, tension filling the open space like a dam had burst. Soshiro had gone from blushing to bloodthirsty in a millisecond and Mina was thankful she’d been blessed with a poker face or else she’d be bursting in laughter at his very apparent jealousy.

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I should finish this report.”

Soshiro saluted her again before sitting at his desk and Mina took her leave.

Well, that was informative.

Now she knew that Soshiro definitely harbored a crush for you and a hatred for Hibino. As she walked down the empty hallway, she let a small smile grace her lips.

She loved love.

Mina did the exact same experiment to you a few days later. As a fellow cat enthusiast, you were very excited at the prospect of seeing new Bakko content, quickly taking a seat next to your captain. This time around, she had managed to take an extremely flattering picture of Soshiro during training. He was standing outside, slightly flushed from the previous physical exertion, with one hand on his hip and the other pushing his hair out of his face.

Maybe if I ever retire I’ll become a photographer.

“…and there’s Bakko-oops. Not this.”

Your mouth was partially agape and she spied how you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the man on the screen. His tight fitting shirt hugged every curve of every muscle. His physique and pose were reminiscent of a model you’d see on a billboard in downtown Tokyo or on a runway in Paris.

“T-that’s a great picture you got of Vice Captain,” you breathed out in awe. “He looks so… hot.”

“If you’re into that sort of look, sure,” she answered.

“I definitely am,” you said dreamily, clearing your throat with embarrassment when you realized you said that out loud. “I mean, yeah. If someone was… hypothetically, like… into that sort of… thing.”

Mission 100% accomplished; they’re very much into each other.

Next up was the hard part of figuring out how to get confessions from the two of you without meddling too much. That’s why she was hoping today’s training, with you being partnered with Kafka, would be enough to stir up those same feelings and visceral reactions you both had while looking at the photos of each other not that long ago. So far, it was working splendidly. Kafka would say or do something ridiculous, causing you to howl with laughter and Soshiro to shoot Kafka a burning glare that could rival the intensity of a wildfire. Meanwhile, Soshiro would take his frustration out on the sparring training dummies, in turn leaving you dumbstruck at the way he moved so majestically and remained the most handsome man on earth, even in a state of sweaty exhaustion. When training was finally over, Mina couldn’t slow the buildup of anticipation deep inside her, eager to see the lovebirds admit their feelings, or at the very least, converse with each other. Neither of those things happened; you and Soshiro didn’t even exchange eye contact before going your separate ways.

Mina frowned. Didn’t she plant the seeds of attraction, water the foundations of a relationship, nurture the-

Looking back, I guess I didn’t do all that much.

“L/n.”

You turned around immediately at the sound of your captain’s voice, saluting as the dark haired woman approached you. You had just finished showering after a grueling day of exercise and were on your way to your room to get some much needed rest

“Come with me, please.”

“Right now?” you asked incredulously, eyes raking over the cat pajamas you were sporting. “Should I change into my uniform really quick?”

“No need,” she replied, “it’ll only be a moment:”

“Alright then.”

You were thoroughly confused but who were you to question your captain? You followed behind her dutifully, like a child following their mother to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk after a nightmare. Your eyebrows knit in confusion as she brought you into Soshiro’s office. He, too, had just showered, but he had changed into a fresh tracksuit, presumably because he never stopped working.

“Captain! What can I do for… you?” Soshiro faltered when he saw you peek out from behind Mina.

“I’m horribly underdressed for whatever’s happening. I sincerely apologize,” you said, bowing your head as to not meet his eyes. You weren’t that far below Soshiro’s rank, being a Platoon Leader, but you didn’t want your superior seeing you in such a state of disarray with your wet hair and casual attire in the office. Soshiro, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Y/n! I didn’t see you back there at first. I like your pajamas, cats are always a good choice.” His fanged smile brought you a sense of comfort,

“Thank you.”

You two would’ve gotten lost in each other’s eyes if it weren’t for Mina reminding you she was still there.

“Let me explain what’s going on. Y/n, Soshiro likes you. Soshiro, y/n likes you.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop from across the base. You and Soshiro broke eye contact at breakneck speed, becoming self conscious and wary.

Mina was confused. Weird. Aren’t they supposed to kiss or something, like how it happens in books?

“I’ll leave you to it. Good night.”

Mina practically ran out of Soshiro’s office, getting hit with a whole slew of mixed emotions as she made her way to her own office. Was she wrong for getting involved in her subordinates’ love lives? Did she somehow misread the signals you both were giving off? Was her conclusion incorrect, leading her to be labeled a fool, unfit for a leadership position? She fretted all night thinking about the lack of response you and Soshiro had about the great news. The next morning, as she got ready, she thought of all the ways she could explain her behavior and hoped this situation wouldn’t lead to her getting fired (worst case scenario) or you and Soshiro feeling awkward around each other (bad case scenario). You two worked extremely well together, neutralizing kaiju with just glances and nods, no words needed, and she’d never forgive herself for ruining such a good team.

Mina fiddled with her jacket one last time before lifting her chin up and making the trek to her office to start the day. To her surprise, the door was ajar, you and Soshiro apparently waiting for her arrival.

Goodbye Third Division, hello HR…

“Captain,” you began, “Soshiro and I really appreciate what you were trying to do for us, but-”

“I overstepped my boundary,” she cut in. “I’m ashamed that I let my self control slip and I put my subordinates, the people in my care, in an uncomfortable position. I don’t know if I can ever regain your trust again, but I swear that I-”

“Captain.”

This time it was Soshiro who spoke out of turn. “My deepest apologies for interrupting you, but you don’t need to be sorry. Your intuition was correct—y/n and I do like each other.”

Mins could’ve cried tears of happiness hearing that, especially knowing that her job wasn’t at stake anymore, but her joy was turned to confusion when she noticed you and Soshiro share a glance, making a wordless agreement, and then both reaching into your shirts…?

She watched with curious eyes as a chain entered your grasp, previously hidden from view under your shirt, a small ring hanging down from it. Soshiro did the same, a matching ring gleaming under the fluorescent lights. It was then that the inquisitive, intelligent, intuitive captain made the connection—

“Soshiro and I are married,” you said, sheepishly glancing over at your husband. Now it was Mina’s turn to be deadly silent. However, you could tell she wasn’t upset, she was busy comprehending everything that was revealed to her.

“We didn’t tell anyone,” explained Soshiro, “because we didn’t want it to become an issue at work. In retrospect, we could’ve hidden it a bit better.”

He scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “Though Kafka doesn’t ever seem to get the hint.”

“But we know we can trust you with our lives and we should’ve at least told you. I’m sorry for lying to you, Captain Ashiro,” you said, your head hanging low.

That’s when you heard the strangest sound.

Captain Mina Ashiro… was laughing?

“This was an interesting turn of events,” she eventually said, catching her breath. “It turns out I was correct, but not in the way I thought.”

She strutted over to her desk, sitting down and starting the computer. “If that’s all you had to report, then you’re dismissed. It’s time to go to work.”

She looked up one last time, quirking an eyebrow. “Or are you on your honeymoon?”

[6gumi]

spread ‘em further, baby.

⋆.˚ NSFW . wc. 784 . IL dan heng ( imbibitor lunae ) x f!reader 、size k!nk 、double penetration 、established relationship 、pussydrunk!danheng & big dick!dan heng in da same frame . . . — 𝑹𝑼𝑩𝑰 : “ anotha’ sillie thirst ! hehe been thinkin’ about dan heng’s tail keepin’ your legs spread out so nicely since foreva x-x “

IL DAN HENG was a patient man, and you knew that. well, at least that’s what you thought. his patience can be nothing more than a distraction for how he truly feels, harboring his emotions . . . harboring his own wants and his true desires, just to keep himself from losing control. but that brings a question . . . can and could he really control himself ?

this, on your part, was truly a mistake.

even so, dan heng’s heart swelled with gratitude when you put your trust in him. his dick twitched against his body . . . his massive form dwarfing your small frame. his nostrils flaring as he caught your scent, cursing himself for getting aroused by it. his tail flicked gently, providing a subtle warmth that enveloped your body from below. “so small, so perfect.” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he carefully positioned himself between your drenched thighs, one of his throbbing cocks nudging against your entrance with pure excitement . . . desperate to please you. “ . . . you can handle two of me, can you baby?” you paused and nodded slowly . . . feeling your cunt squeezing around nothing just by thinking about that . . . but hey ? what could go so wrong ?

“. . . i might break you, my love,” dan heng murmured softly against your ear, his teeth biting down your earlobe . . . sliding his two lengths deep inside your yearning hole as the massive girth of his cocks filled you up almost completely. each swift motion of his thrusts sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the intensity of the experience unlike anything you had ever known. he was big, and you were sure he knew that. despite how big he was compared to you, his movements were slow and deliberate, focused on ensuring your pleasure rather than his own. his powerful muscles flexed with each thrust, his body moving with a primal grace. your boyfriend’s breath came in deep, ragged pants, his mind focused solely on the task at hand. “f—fuck . . . this pussy’s driving me crazy. look, it’s driving them crazy too.”

“d—dan heng . . .” your moans and cries of ecstasy filled his room, your hands gripping his horns as your body arched to meet each thrust. dan heng knew his own satisfaction was secondary to your pleasure, he could feel himself licking his lips when he gazed down and admired your sweaty body beneath the moonlight . . . his powerful form moving in sync with yours, entwined in a passionate dance that transcends the heavens. he explored the depths of your heat, your sweet pussy he’d been craving all day. his size was overwhelming, to say the least . . . overwhelming in the best way possible. his tongue flicked out, licking your neck gently, his breath hot against your supple skin.

“spread them further, baby.”

with a sudden flick of muscles, his powerful tail lifted your legs, spreading them wide . . . the tip of his tail gently prodding your outer folds, providing an additional source of pleasure. your boyfriend shifted his position, granting him better access to your fully exposed entrance . . . positioning you in a way that allows deeper penetration. the warmth of the scales on his tail against your flesh provided a pleasant, almost comforting sensation. both cocks throbbed, the sight of his beloved’s legs spread out like that turned him on. the tip of his first cock nudged against your bud, the swollen head already slick from your previous coupling. with the utmost care, dan heng pressed forward, the size of his dick stretching you once again . . . the familiar friction igniting the fires of desire in both of you.

“you’re s—so good to me, my love . . . so so good.” slowly and steadily, your boyfriend began to move again, his thrusts deliberate and precise . . . this new angle causing delightful sensations to ripple through you both. your hands, that were roaming through his horns, found purchase around his neck, gripping tightly as the pleasure intensified. “you’re so good at taking my cock . . mmh—both of them.” his breathing and yours, completely synchronized . . . his pretty eyes locked on yours while his heart pounded against his ribcage. with a guttural growl, he quickened his pace, in a hurry to fill you up. the rhythm of your lovemaking reaching it’s peak. he could feel his tip brushing against your most sensitive areas, desperate to fuck and find them all. the vidyadhara’s powerful tail squeezed your legs tighter, holding you in place as he drove into you with renewed vigor.

“you seem to enjoy the fact that i use my tail to spread you out so nicely . . .” dan heng leaned down, his face close to yours, breaths mingling as his body collided with yours in a passionate dance. “hm . . . should i spread you out wider then?”

© 6GUMI 2024. modifying 、translating 、sharing my works on other platforms 、or considering them as yours is strictly prohibited.