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#plus the fit/pockets thing
syntaxaero · 11 months
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i GENUINELY gotta find clothing brands or listings that don't just have Graphic Tees, Hoodies, and Basic Pants for men. It's disgusting how basic men's fashion brands are.
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mayakern · 1 year
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hey y’all!
the ye olde cats and dungeon delver skirts that were printed sideways will be up in the store on july 13th at noon ET! they’ll also be listed at a discount (cats will be $20 off, dungeon will be $5 off)
these skirts fit sizes XS-7X and have super deep pockets!
store.mayakern.com
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mariyekos · 13 days
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My logic/HC for why Lady dresses the way she does is that she figures any demon who hurts her will be able to hurt her regardless of whether she's wearing armor or not, so she might as well go for something with mobility to keep from getting hit in the first place. No point in wearing something that would restrict movement if a demon claw could tear your leg off whether you're wearing clunky armored pants or some easy-to-move-in shorts!
(Yes I know the real reason is that the devs like sexy minimally-clad women but let's just imagine it's the in-universe explanation okay)
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airyairyaucontraire · 2 years
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do you ever stop and assess your outfit based on how easy or difficult it would make things for you if an adventure began today?
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bootyful-seventeen · 2 years
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Ngl I really hate the bag policy for the concert cuz there are necessities I’ll need to bring but can’t unless I bring them in my pockets
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Modern AU versions of Tintin and his friends! Notes about their designs under the Read More:
Tintin - A grey and yellow baseball tshirt references his grey sweatervest and yellow shirt look from the earlier comics. Cargo joggers replace his plus fours - plus fours were popular with golfers in the 20s and 30s as athletic wear, so I opted for cargo joggers for that preppy but sporty vibe. He also wears leather trainers and keeps his handy phone in an industrial case. Snowy wears a collar now!
Haddock - when not working on a ship as a merchant captain he opts for a hoodie and sweatpants. He might look sloppy but it's pretty practical for the wild adventures he's dragged into! He's Tintin's exhausted foster father in this AU.
Calculus - I gave him 2000s style rectangular frames to make him feel modern but still kind of dated, like how he wears fashion a few decades behind in the canon comics. I dressed him like my high school physics teachers - he has a necktie, a pocket protector, a zip through fleece and orthopedic shoes. I had frames like these for some time until I broke them at work lol
Chang - as soon as I read the Blue Lotus and saw Chang for the first time I immediately thought he was wearing crocs. I don't know why crocs are so popular. I don't think they're particularly comfortable. They feel sweaty and weird and don't stay on your feet when you run. I don't get crocs. But they're popular in Asia lol (I kept Chang's design super simple, he's an orphan with no money)
Abdullah - I had way too much fun with him! I know Supreme is kinda dated now (it's definitely a 2016 thing) but I still find it funny and the colour scheme fits. A lot of local Muslim teenagers in my area mix sportswear with traditional clothing so I did the same here, but made it obnoxiously bougie lol
Zorrino - I didn't change much for him as his original design is pretty timeless. I gave him socks and slides, a beanie and joggers. His button up shirt is replaced with a polo shirt but the difference isn't big.
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caninepoetryrelator · 9 months
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Liquid Luck
Carl Grimes x Reader (16+)
Aged up Carl Grimes x Reader soft smut
Synopsis: Carl and you are not friends. So what’s gonna happen when you’re locked in a room together with a bottle of whiskey?
Warnings: Dick, dick getting sucked, no fully blown sex just oral, Carl is a cutie, also it’s a zombie apocalypse there’s gonna be zombies, plus various weapons and very brief nondescript violence.
Words: 3,843
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It all started with a bad raid. We figured we could sneak into the pharmacy, get the medicine for Hershel, and then get out without attracting any attention.
Rick and Daryl stayed outside and kept watch while he sent you and Carl to take care of the rest.
That was it, straightforward, in and out.
Or at least it had been.
A week prior Glenn had put a boombox on the rooftop of the place to attract the walkers out and up instead of prowling the streets and the building.
The windows were almost all broken. Either by walkers or raiders, we didn’t know. But it sure was convenient when the door turned out to be locked.
You watched Carl adjust the brim of his hat and narrow his eyes at a broken square window a few feet above his head.
“I think I can fit,” he stated firmly, casting you a sidelong glance, quickly looking back at Rick when you made eye contact.
He had never been outright rude to you; he had never been anything to you. He had only introduced himself with a short greeting and a tight smile. He seemed much more open with everyone else yet standoffish around you.
“The kid can fit too,” agreed Daryl, nodding towards you. He’d always called you that despite you being the same age as Carl.
Carl’s face dropped as he glanced at you again. “I can do it by myself.”
“No, you can’t,” ordered Rick. “We don’t know how many walkers are still in there. You’re taking her with you.”
He sighed. Did he really not like you this much?
Before you had come to a conclusion Daryl had laid a leather jacket over the jagged glass in the frame before he and Rick boosted Carl into the window.
“I’ll make sure it’s safe!” He hollered from inside the building. There was some scuffling inside for a moment before he yelled “It’s clear!”
Next thing you knew you were standing in their respective interlaced fingers and they boosted you up to the window. You grabbed the edges and dove in. It wasn’t until you let go of the window frame that you realized that you, unlike Carl, were falling face first instead of feet first.
Luckily, you were met with the last type of relief you expected. Carl grabbed your waist, slowing your descent enough to use your own momentum to turn you so you landed on your feet. His hands linger on your waist as you stand chest to chest with him. You look up at him through your lashes, breathing heavily. His face is red, probably from exertion.
Just before you can thank him he pulls quickly away, looking down nervously. You lower your head into his line of sight so that he makes eye contact with you.
“Thank you,” you say with a smile.
He nods shortly before taking out his knife and heading towards a door. “This way.”
You follow him, Michonee’s old sword she had given you in hand as you follow him closely, checking your surroundings avidly. Both of you continuously glanced up at the ceiling, which creaked under the weight of anywhere from fifty to one hundred walkers.
Your shoe nudged something on the ground— a bottle of whiskey. You quickly stooped and picked it up, putting it in one of the pockets of your oversized cargos.
You make your way to the back of the building, into the section where the pills are stored.
“What are we looking for again?” You ask.
“Promethazine, it’s anti-nausea medication for throwing up. Hershel’s worried the vomit from people with the flu in town could make it more contagious.” He replies, examining bottles instead of looking at you.
With a soft frown at his bland attitude, you wander to the ‘P’ section, browsing for promethazine.
You found five prefilled prescriptions made out to various, probably now dead, people.
“Carl,” you call, holding up a handful of amber pill bottles.
“Nice one,” he says, a genuine smile on his face. The first time he’s smiled at you. It was a nice smile. You felt your face heat up as you smiled as well.
Carl turned around for you to put the meds in his backpack. You brush his hair out of the way and he whips his head around immediately.
“W-what’re you doing back there?”
“Making sure your hair doesn’t get caught in the zipper,” you reply simply.
He relaxes as you unzip the bag and place the medications inside.
Just as you were zipping the beg, a loud creaking sound resounded from the ceiling. Carl and you glanced at each other with wide eyes.
“This way,” he commanded, taking your hand and leading — practically dragging — you through the pharmacy. The thumping on the roof was becoming more prominent and you could hear gunshots from outside.
You were practically running now as the sounds became nearly overwhelming. You were near the doctor's office section of the building when the ceiling began to give.
“Shit,” you muttered as the ceiling tiles began to fall.
Carl’s hand was on your waist again, this time snatching you out of the way of something falling— a walker, collapsed on the ground where you had just been standing.
Everything was happening so fast, and next thing you knew the ground was littered with walkers, all focused on the two of you. Your sword could only do so much as you slashed at the hoard, managing to take out two in one blow as you attempted to keep them at bay.
When Carl’s hands were on your waist again this time you didn’t question it— he snatched you backwards and into a room, where he slammed the door closed and locked it.
It was a check up office; it contained white brick walls and linoleum tile. In the corner was an oak desk with a monitor and sanitary supplies stacked on it. There was a cot against the opposite wall and various equipment hanging from the walls.
The thudding at the door where Carl stood jarred you back to reality, spurring you to grab the desk and shove at it. It had to be at least four hundred pounds. Carl pulled from the other side and together you managed to use it to barricade the door. He collapsed against the cot, panting.
You joined him, holding up your hands in a calming gesture as he looked at you with a shaky, nervous expression.
“Well, shit,” he muttered with an ironic chuckle.
“Probably gonna be in here for a while,” you sighed.
“Yeah,” he muttered bitterly.
Why don’t you like me?
The words almost came out of your mouth, but it wasn’t the right time. Instead you just looked at him, with a resigned expression.
You take the whiskey from your pocket and open it, taking a swig. After drinking with Daryl it didn’t phase you too much anymore, but he stared at you with a shocked expression, cheeks dusted pink.
“Where did you get that?”
“Store,” you replied simply, holding out the bottle to him.
After a moment of hesitation he took it, taking a swig with a grimace. “How do you drink that shit?” He laughs.
He laughed. A real laugh. It’s your first time hearing it. You want to hear more of it.
“Daryl,” you explain simply and he nods with a groan.
“I see,” he takes another drink and passes the bottle back to you.
It’s called liquid courage for a reason, you think. That’s all the convincing it takes for you to start chugging the bottle. You get about five swallows down before Carl’s hands, one on the bottle and one on your jaw, stop you from going further.
“Don’t overdo it,” he chides you gently.
You nod dumbly, watching a drop make its way down his neck, tracing his adam’s apple as he takes another drink. You notice the way his lips pucker around the mouth of the bottle and you force yourself to look away.
After a moment of silence he speaks again.
“Wanna play truth or dare?”
You look at him in surprise, hesitating for a moment.
“Only if you want to—” he starts nervously before you cut him off with a simple statement.
“Sure.”
He looks at you in relief, clearly afraid to have overstepped before smiling, a bit anxiously. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” you don’t hesitate; they really do call it liquid courage for a reason.
He glanced around the room before his eyes land on the stethoscope. “I dare you to give me a checkup?” He phrases it as a question so you don’t feel forced. Cute.
You grab various medical equipment, wrapping the stethoscope around your neck with a drunken grin. “I’m your doctor, I’ll be giving you your physical,” you say in your best attempt at a deep voice. You were clearly already drunk. Normally you would’ve felt stupid but with the heartwarming giggle he let out paired with an over dramatic eyeroll, you felt nothing but at ease.
As you begin measuring his heart rate he swallows hard, his pink cheeks darkening to red. His heart thumped steadily; quickly.
“Truth or dare,” you murmur as you measure his vitals.
“Uh…” he swallowed hard, eyes flickered from your hands against his chest to your face, feigning focus. “Dare.”
“Take your shirt off,” you say with an innocent grin. He blanches, surprised. “To check your vitals better. Only if you want to.” You assure him sweetly.
In a moment he was struggling to pull his shirt off, disoriented from the alcohol.
Next thing you know your hands are running down his sides to the hem of his shirt. Halfway through struggling out of his shirt he looks up at you from his sitting position, face still read and panting. You gently tug his shirt upwards, prompting him to pull his arms through the holes and you pull it over his head.
You giggle at the state of his hair, correcting it without hesitation.
“Real soft,” you muse as you gently sweep his hair out of his face. The poor boy looks overwhelmed as he stares up at you, arms wrapped around himself nervously.
You gently move the arm he has wrapped around his chest, pressing the stethoscope there once more. His heart is beating almost worryingly fast.
“You okay hon?” You ask gently.
“Mhm,” he manages, seeming to have a hard time speaking.
“Okay,” you murmur, putting the stethoscope on various places around his chest, pretending to know what you’re doing.
“Truth- uh truth or dare,” he chokes out.
“Dare,” you repeat, this time even more sure than the last.
“Can you uhm.. touch my hair again?” He wasn’t making eye contact at all now, seemingly fascinated by his jeans as he stares down, still adorned by that bright blush.
In a second your hands are in his hair. Even when you hadn’t been talking you were fascinated by his hair. Rick had caught you staring several times and always met you with a soft smile or a laugh, whereas Daryl arched his eyebrow with a slight grin.
His hair really was soft, soft as hell. You rubbed a single strand between your fingers before trailing your fingers from his roots to the ends of his hair. You secure your hands around his scalp, threading your fingers through his hair as you continue to play with it, enamored.
You hadn’t even noticed his face, eyes closed, mouth open, breathing deeply.
You lean in closer and murmur by his ear. “Truth or dare.”
His eyes flicker open and he breathes for a moment. “Truth.”
“Why do you avoid me back at camp?” He froze.
“I-I don’t,” he lied, resulting in a small tug to his hair. He draws in a sharp breath, looking up at you surprised.
“Don’t lie,” you chide.
“You make me nervous,” he admitted after a moment of silence. “People usually don’t make me nervous, but you do.” He was once again apparently entranced by his jeans so you cup his jaw gently, bringing his gaze up to meet your own.
“I like making you nervous. But not all the time. I like talking to you, Carl,” you explain in a soft voice.
He looks up at you with a genuine involuntary smile.
“Really?” He breathes.
“Yes,” you whisper, realizing how much closer you had gotten, your hand still settled on his jaw.
“Um… truth or dare?”
“Dare,” you repeat, adamant on forcing him out of his comfort zone.
“Is it okay if I— can I please, uhm—“
“Do whatever you want, Carl,” you interrupt him. “I trust you.”
His eyes widen at that and he finally rises to his feet. A familiar feeling. His hands on your waist. His grasp is awkward this time, less sure of himself when he’s not saving your life. When it’s a choice to be touching you.
He tugs you a bit closer and his eyes flicker to your lips. You know what he’s trying to do and you know he’s scared to do it.
Your hands are still in his hair and you use that to your advantage, pulling him towards you and letting him close the distance, giving you a hesitant kiss. His lips are a little chapped, but they’re plush and soft. He tastes like whiskey, and you’re sure you do too. He’s inexperienced; this might be his first kiss, you realize.
You follow that kiss with another chaste one pressed against his lips ever so gently.
“Feel good?” You murmur, forehead resting against his with your eyes closed.
“Mhm,” he hums, barely audible as he lets out another shakey breath. You know his eyes are closed too.
You’re both reveling. In each other's presence. Just breathing each other in as his arms move to loosely wrap around your waist instead of simply placing his hands there.
There it is. That’s right.
His hands on your waist were sweet but his arms encircling your waist was just right.
You pull him in for another slow kiss, heads tilted, mouth moving and prompting his to do the same, teaching him as best you could without saying a word.
“Wow,” he gasps against your lips. You try to give him a chance to explain his exclamation by pulling away, but he pulls you back in.
You slide your tongue over his bottom lip, hoping for him to part his lips a bit more and in response he gives your tongue a light suck, pulling it into his mouth and letting out a soft whine as he does.
Your kiss evolves in passion as his hand starts traveling over your body. It slides up your waist and onto your ribs, just shy of your boob. The other stays securely wrapped around your waist as though he’s attempting to anchor you to him.
As much as you adore the feeling of his lips, you pull away. His brow furrows, eyes still shut as he leans forward for another kiss, his lips chasing yours with a small sound of displeasure after you pull away.
You tug his hair, gently prompting him to tilt his head to the side to give you access to his neck. You start by pressing soft kisses there, a trail from his jaw to the base of his neck, before retracing your steps with parted lips, allowing yourself to taste the sweet musky skin of his neck.
He lets out a choked whimper before covering his mouth with his hand. Not on your watch. You immediately grab his hand, pulling it down to your tit. He lets out a shakey gasp as he grasps at the soft flesh, groaning softly as he squeezes experimentally.
“Thank you..” he murmurs, eyes still screwed shut.
“Of course sweetheart,” you smile against his neck. He shivers at the nickname, giving you a minor power trip.
You begin sucking the flesh of his neck into your mouth where you begin biting gradually before biting harder to leave dark marks. You leave one by his jaw before remembering Rick, and what his reaction would be. You press a quick kiss to the mark before shoving him down on the cushioned exam cot, straddling him.
That’s when you notice the tent in his pants. He glances down at the point where your crotches met, biting his lip nervously. “S-sorry—” he started.
“Don’t be,” you assure him, leaning down to begin littering his chest with kisses.
You start the marks by his collarbone, before moving down to his chest. He was whimpering without restraint now, back arched.
His hand was moving up your body, down your arm, and to your hand. He held your hand, giving it a soft squeeze before simply holding your hand.
“Can I.. can I have—” he cut himself off with a small whimper before you stopped your ministrations.
“Use your words sweetheart.”
He groans slightly at that. “Can I— I wanna kiss.” He squeezes your hand again.
You lean up and meet him halfway with a soft kiss. He’s better now. He’s more prepared. You run your tongue along his bottom lip and he gladly parts them, granting you entry. He opens his mouth a bit too wide, but you don’t mind. You pull back slightly, pulling away and following it with a chaste, soft kiss before continuing where you left off– his chest.
You continue sucking dark hickies along his chest, leaving a trail of bites and kisses down to his belly. A faint covering of dark hairs spreads from just about his belly button, trailing down to below the band of his jeans.
You let out a soft sigh of desire, lightly caressing his happy trail with the tip of your fingers. He shudders softly and you watch his cock twitch through his jeans. He begins to apologize again, cutting himself off with a soft groan when you plant a firm kiss to where his happy trail disappears under his jeans.
You tug softly at the button on his jeans. “Can I?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.
He blinks in shock, looking down at you with wide eyes and a flushed face, mouth agape. “A-are you sure?”
“Yes,” you chuckle.
He responds with a small nod, still clearly shocked. You make quick work of undoing his pants, tugging them down before looking up at him with a small nod, prompting him to climb to his feet and shed his pants, quickly clambering back onto the bench. You swing your leg over the base of his thighs, straddling them.
You’re quick to feel him up, groping at his straining cock.
Freeing his cock you glance up at him in surprise, He’s packing. Six, maybe seven inches, not too wide – you could probably fit your hand perfectly around it – with a pretty pink tip, practically dripping precum. You test your earlier theory by experimentally wrapping your hand around his cock, eliciting a whine from him.
He swallows hard before looking down at you. “Are you s-sure? You’re comfortable?”
You nod. “I want to do this for you sweet boy.”
He smiles softly, letting his head fall back and his eyes flutter shut. “Thank you,” he sighs happily.
You lean down and kiss the head of his cock, causing him to jolt slightly. After lapping at the slit of his cock you take the head into your mouth. He gasps, bucking his hips.
Without warning you grab him by the hips and force him back against the cot which draws another whimper out of him as he pathetically attempts to squirm his hips closer to your mouth. You tut your tongue and pull away until he stops moving.
“Please,” he whines, struggling.
You decide to grant mercy on the poor boy, taking his head into your mouth once again. One arm forcing his hips against the table, you wrap the other hand around his cock and gently squeeze. He sighs happily, breath hitching as you begin moving your hand. Rotating it gradually as you move your hand up and down, you allow some of your saliva to drip from the head of his cock into your hand.
You use it as lubricant to begin pumping your hand up and down his cock faster, limp wristed as you continue lapping at the head of his cock. He arches his back more and whines.
Just as you begin taking more of his cock into your mouth his hand flies to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before squeezing, clearly doing his best to hold back from pulling your hair too hard.
“Mmh..” he moans softly, gripping at your hair firmly and applying slight pressure.
Suddenly you take as much as possible into your mouth, deepthroating him without warning. He lets out a sharp moan, gripping your hair tighter before releasing his grip in a slight panic as he realizes what he’s doing– it’s cute how hard he’s trying to hold back.
You use your tongue mostly, swirling it around his cock to the best of your ability as you begin bobbing your head up and down. You use one hand to massage his hard balls, ready to burst already. With that you remember that he’s a virgin, and you probably shouldn’t be teasing him so much.
This whole time he’s been making the most lewd noises, moaning and letting out small whimpers to the rhythm of you bobbing your head. His cock twitches in your mouth, prompting you to go faster to help him through.
You release his hips and meet his eyes when he gives you a confused glance, silently giving him permission. Experimentally, he bucks his hips, moaning before falling into a steady rhythm, his hips rising and falling shakily against your mouth.
He grips your hair even tighter, bringing tears to your eyes as you gag on his cock. After less than ten seconds he releases his load down your throat. Despite your attempts to swallow it dribbles out of your mouth and down his cock.
The low groan he had released had tapered off into a moan, sighing as he finally collapsed from his high. As he lays there, chest heaving, you slowly climb on top of him, collapsing there and cuddling into him.
He turns and kisses the top of your head, his wide smile unknown to you.
“I think I’m less nervous around you now,” he murmurs into your hair.
You smile softly as he places his hand on your waist once again. “Good,”
Thank god for liquid courage.
They cleared the pharmacy of walkers eventually, and by the time they reached you the two of you were cleaned up.
You came out swinging, having to run to the truck.
The two of you ended up so battered and bruised Rick didn’t even think to mention the bruise at the base of Carl’s jaw, and the one on his collarbone, just visible when he wore tank tops.
You saved the whiskey for next time.
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peachsukii · 3 months
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₊✩‧₊⇢  right person, wrong time?
『 ෆ k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — repost; after more discussions, i decided to delete the follow up on the original post thread & re-post separately. i don't wanna be accused of stealing someone's idea after already apologizing for it. this'll be the last i talk about it.
Bakugo’s loved you since high school. You always pushed him to work hard, never took his shit without giving it back tenfold, and was a pillar of support through some of the toughest times in his life. Even so, he’s convinced himself you’d never feel the same, that he has no shot with you.
Why?
Because you’re quirkless.
You’re part of the 20% without one, and he told himself he can’t get in your way of your life. Bakugo can’t stand the thought of being the reason why you don’t chase after your own dreams. He knows you too well - you’d put your happiness aside to support him the second he asked. You’d put your life on hold if it meant for him to succeed as a pro hero.
But he can’t do that. You’re the one thing he can’t seem to bring himself to be selfish about.
So Bakugo sits idly by, for years, as your best friend. The one you’d do anything for, no matter the time or place. He watches you date shitty guys and picks up the pieces they leave you in. Buys you your favorite foods when you have a bad day, surprises you with “just thinking of you” gifts, and drops whatever he’s doing the second you need him.
He’s attempted dating, desperately tried to get you out of his heart and make room for someone else - he fails each time. Miserably.
So tonight, that all changes.
You’re attending the annual Hero Gala together tonight, just like you have for the last four years. Bakugo always asks you to be his plus one as it keeps people away from him and he gets to spend time with you…rather, gets to see you dressed to the nines and have you on his arm all night long. It’s the one day a year he gets to pretend you’re his.
You’ve recently gotten a huge promotion in your line of work and he’s broken the top 10 of the hero charts - what better time than now to shoot his shot? He’s waited long enough, run through every excuse in the book why not to tell you how he feels.
The night winds down and the two of you get back into his car, sitting in silence for the ride home. That’s not uncommon for you two, but Bakugo’s reading too much into it tonight. It makes his hands tremble on the wheel, white knuckling the pleather from nerves. Once he pulls up to your apartment complex, he turns the car off and gets out to open your door for you.
To his surprise, you invite him in.
“I have a surprise for you!”
Bakugo’s whole body is tense at this point. What could you have for him?
“Here, open it.” You hand him a small box wrapped in orange paper. “It’s not much and a little cheesy, but congratulations on breaking the top 10!”
He opens the package to find a golden bracelet in a box with the inscription “plus ultra, dynamight!” on the underside of it.
“Ya didn’t have to get me shit, but thank you. I love it.”
He hugs you immediately, scooping you into a loving embrace and relishing in the excuse to have skin contact with you.
“I, uh, actually have somethin’ for you, too.” His voice waivers while he fiddles with his jacket pocket. You raise an eyebrow while waiting for him to present…whatever it is he had.
Bakugo pulls out a small box of his own, handing over the velvet jewelry case. You gingerly take it from his palm and can’t help but notice he’s shaking like a leaf.
“Are you okay, Kat? You’re shaking.”
“Just…open it.”
And you do - revealing a beautiful rose gold locket inside. It’s in the shape of a heart, dainty yet big enough to fit a minuscule picture. Before you open it, he stops you by gently touching your hand. He’s trying to hold eye contact with you, but keeps darting between your gaze and the ceiling.
“I’m sorry if this seems outta nowhere, but it’s been eatin’ me alive for years. And if it’s too much, we can forget it ever happened.”
You tilt your head at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Oh. The locket.
Time crawls to a halt as you pry open the locket, peering into the small enclosure to see two things - a picture of the two of you on the left and a small handwritten phrase on the right.
‘I love you. -Kats’
The silence in the apartment is deafening. Bakugo’s vibrating out of his skin while awaiting a semblance of a response to his confession. You’re normally easy to read, but in the moment, he’s struggling to observe how you could be feeling. It’s driving him fucking insane. He starts to feel regret, embarrassment settling in his bones as he bites his lip.
He just ruined everything. The precious friendship you two had - gone. He knew that locket was a stupid idea.
Bakugo’s preparing himself for your rejection. The tears are building and the lump in his throat solidifies. He attempts to keep himself together as he begins to croak out an apology.
“Look, I shoulda—”
“Say it.”
Bewilderment is an understatement as he recoils at your demand. He blinks the stray tears away, all the breath he had being stolen away by your words. He swallows thickly, never thinking he’d get this far in the conversation. He was fully prepared to high tail it outta there, not…stay.
“Wha—”
“Tell me you love me.”
This can’t be real.
Bakugo’s body moves on its own, closing the gap between you two in under the dim light of your entry way. He cradles your jaw, thumbing over the apple of your cheek and studying your eyes as he takes a deep breath. This is the moment he’s been waiting for - the one he’s been yearning over. The opportunity to tell you exactly how he feels, how much you mean to him.
Four words is all he needs.
“I fucking love you.”
You can’t help but laugh, maybe a little too loudly as Bakugo’s cheeks turn strawberry in color.
“It’s about damn time. I love you too.”
His heart pounds, his legs feel like jello, his muscles stiffen. And yet, he powers through it all.
Your lips meet for the first time - the kiss is soft, sweet, careful.
When you part, his vision blurs a bit, overwhelmed by the emotions swelling in his chest. His lips are slightly parted behind heavy breaths, taking in the moment he was so graciously given.
“I didn’t wanna get in your way.”
You laugh. “Then don’t be in my way, come with me.”
God, he was such an idiot. A lovesick fool blinded by his own infatuation to see that his best friend loved him, too.
You hand the locket to Bakugo and spin around while holding up your hair. He tenderly places the chain around your neck and secures the clasp, letting the metal fall to your collarbone.
“I’m all yours, Katsuki.”
You always have been.
thanks to everyone who sent in a message & encouraged me to keep this up. we're all just trying to have a good time together on this site and share our feelings about characters we love. there's no need to talk down or discourage others from expressing themselves.
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in my hearts of hearts I so deeply believe in the importance of more women shopping in the men's clothing section. particularly gender conforming cis women. hear me out:
pockets. pockets pockets pockets. huge pockets. even in skinny jeans and short shorts. pockets are high priority in men's clothes, and designers are not willing to sacrifice them unless absolutely necessary. even the pajamas and swimsuits have pockets big enough to hold your phone. the audacity
better quality & value. men's clothing is consistently made to last longer. you will find better fabric quality, craftsmanship, and general durability in the men's section.
"men's" clothes might fit you better. clothing is way more gender neutral than you've been taught to think. for dresses and stuff you'll still need the women's section, but you'd be surprised at how well "men's" pants, shorts, shirts, and jackets can fit different bodies. in fact, I would go so far as to say that men's clothes are designed to fit a wider variety of body sizes and shapes than women's clothes. if you are one of the many many women who don't fit the ridiculous cookie cutter mold of modern women's fashion, you may very well have better luck in the men's section.
(this includes people with big chests! being designed for broader shoulders also translates into extra tiddy storage space.)
(plus, universal sizing systems based on your actual measurements.) (pro tip for shorter folks: cuffing or hemming pants is the easiest alteration in the world. you can literally just use safety pins.)
you can still find "feminine" things. it's becoming easier & easier to find "men's" clothes in the bright colors/patterns, tighter fits, and shorter hems traditionally associated with women's fashion. shorts are particularly great--you can find lots of mid-thigh versions that are almost identical to women's shorts, but with bigger pockets and a little more coverage.
(also, as most trans people are already aware, people are pretty eager to assume that everyone around them is cis. I guarantee that you'd be shocked at how many people won't realize you're wearing "men's" clothes. they'll just see a women wearing clothing that fits.)
bonus: it's easier to find stuff that's not see-through/doesn't show bra straps. the irony of this is deeply insulting.
in general clothing manufacturers feel able to pull way more bullshit on female customers. a great way to tell them to FUCK OFF is by spending your money elsewhere. your life will become much comfier in the process!
WARNING: consistently shopping in the men's section may accustom you to new levels of comfort and lack of body-conciousness, and make it difficult for you to return to shopping in the women's section. you may find yourself no longer able to put up with previously normalized levels of bullshit. you may find yourself sewing huge pockets into skirts & dresses, because that is the new baseline you demand of all your outfits. these symptoms may become even more pronounced if you start wearing supportive wide-toed walking shoes.
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blackbird-brewster · 2 months
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Highlights from Catherine Tate's Q&A Panel at Armageddon Expo 2024 (NZ) :
[I took notes best I could during the panel but some may be paraphrased]
Q: What's your favourite Doctor Who alien?
CT: The wonderful Ood!
Q: Who's your favourite Doctor? (Crowd gasps in anticipation)
CT: Well, I get asked this a lot, and obviously it's David (Tennant). I don't know what number he is, he keeps coming back. But definitely, David. Although, someone recently pointed out that I was technically the first ever female Doctor. So you know what? Me, I'm my favourite Doctor.
Q: What's your favourite episode you were in of Doctor Who?
CT:The Runaway Bride, because that's where it all began.
Q: What's a favourite memory of working with David Tennant on Doctor Who?
CT: The scene in 'Partners in Crime', the one with the Adipose, there's the scene where Donna and the Doctor see each other from across a room. But they're both behind glass and they have the whole mime scene with the windows. Well, I remember it was about 3am when we were filming that - - Russel really likes to film at night if the story is taking place at night - so it was 3am, and I said to the director 'Uh, right here it just says Donna Mimes' and he said 'Yeah do whatever'.
So that whole scene was ad-lib during shooting and David and I were so in sync with it, we did that first take and the director said cut and print!
Q: How emotional were you filming your final scene in Journey's End?
CT: So, we didn't always film in order. And I'm not really a sentimental person, but I will say I thought Donna's ending was absolutely perfect. When she meets the Doctor she was always yelling at the world, and she was so different than what she was by the end, she had so much growth with the Doctor and she changed so much in her time with him, but then, she forgets the him and all those memories. And that final scene, what really got me was how he says 'Donna, I'm off' and she's just, I think she's on the phone, and she just waves dismissively. She doesn't know him anymore. Russell, the way he ties things together, he's brilliant, that man.
Q: What was it like working with Bernard (Cribbins)?
CT: Oh, Bernard. God, I love him. He was so funny and talented. He always had stories and voices and sound effects. He loved making people laugh. But we had a gag where every single time I called him I'd say (Donna Voice) 'GRANDAD!'
He'd say, "Who is this?"
"It's Catherine."
"Catherine who?"
"Catherine Tate"
"Never heard of her."
We did this every time I called him and I loved it.
Q: Is there anything annoying about working with David Tennant?
CT: No, absolutely not. He's perfect. He's the best person to work with. I will say though, I was annoying him a lot. When we did the 60th Anniversary specials, our trailers looked exactly the same and I never knew where my trailer was. I'd walk into his all the time!
Sometimes I'd walk in and see his shoes in the trailer and instead of thinking 'Oops, wrong trailer', my brain went 'What's he gone and left his shoes in my trailer for?'
It got so bad, sometimes I'd walk up the stairs and from inside I'd hear 'NO.'
Q: Was it weird coming back to play Donna after all these years? Especially when it was along side David Tennant?
CT: It was a bit weird, more in the 'Oh I hope i still know how to do this' way than anything. But I did think it would be hilarious if David and I arrived on set and every take we just did completely wrong voices. Just thought it'd be hilarious for him to go (in an airy upper-crust British accent) 'Ohhhh, hellloooo. I'm the Doctor'
Q: If you could take any prop from set, what would you take?
CT: Ohhhh, I'd have very large pockets and see what I could fit. But mostly I think it'd be a sonic screwdriver. It's gotta be a sonic screwdriver, doesn't it? It's small and mobile... Easy to steal. Plus, it'd fetch a great price on Ebay!
Q: Best show you've ever worked on?
CT: The Office, they paid me tons of money.
Q: My mum loves David Tennant, is there something you can say to dissuade her?
CT: Hm, something to convince her he's not.... Oh, he doesn't believe in astrology! I'll say 'It's Mercury Retrograde' and he'll say 'NO, NO, NO I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT'.
Other Highlights:
As soon as she came out, she saw the stage had no steps to the audience, so she stayed on mic and went the long way round to go into the audience and interview people, trying to find who had traveled the furthest to be here. She was sorely disappointed everyone was just from Aotearoa 🤣
Donna Lines She Performed:
"Oi Spaceman! You're not mating with me sunshine!" (Crowd went wild for that)
"Binary. Binary. Binary." (🥺)
She did some of her characters: Lauren Cooper mostly, but also wished someone Happy birthday as Nan
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yandere-kokeshi · 6 months
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Hi! I hope you're having a nice day
I'm just wondering if you can make a yandere ghost or price with a s/o who has a other boyfriend fic?
Thanks<3
(if you don't have time for this, it's okay)
— Such Waste
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Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, suggested age gap, swearing, talks about reader who grew up in an abusive family; current-bf is abusive/has an unhealthy relationship; reader is slightly naive, violence, and detailed blood..
A/N: this one was pretty hard for me to finish so sorry if it's dull or simply not well; I'm not very happy with it lmao. Enjoy! :]
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Inserting the key into the door with a small click!, and opening it to your usually, scattered apartment, you sighed — heavily. 
Today was grueling. Not only was your work office incredibly demanding, but it was possibly draining what was left of your very soul. Your bones and stiff muscles were hurting. Begging for you to get more sleep than having 2 – 4 hours of naps every day.
You took off your shoes by the front door and put your belongings on the table; re-footing your steps backwards, to put your keys on the bookshelf for remembrance. Though, you were rudely interrupted as your phone buzzed multiple times, and you let out yet another sigh. 
In your bones, you had a feeling — an immediate feeling of who it was.
Grabbing your phone in the back pocket, you whisked it out and typed in your passcode before seeing multiple, if not, tons of missed calls and text messages from your current boyfriend.  
Liam: Are you srsly ignoring me? It was a joke. — sent at 8:23 pm
Liam: baby, come on. You passed your break. Just answer me. — sent at 8:57 pm
Liam: answer the fucking phone! Are you dumb? Pick up the phone!!!! — sent at 9:21 pm
Liam: if you don’t answer, it's over. — sent at 11:48
You rolled your eyes, feeling anger rise in you again. You chose to send a small message. Who would’ve thought the blue-eyed, blond hair and a tooth gap combo of a man would be the best fit? Not you, apparently. 
You: Got caught up with work. Sorry, we can talk more about this tomorrow. I’m gonna head to bed. Night.  — sent at 12:19 pm
While Liam was a nice guy, he was slightly controlling and immature. Always wanted to know who or where you were, why you were hanging out with people he didn’t know, and if you loved getting unwanted attention. Sometimes, fights got so bad that your elderly neighbors had to call the police to separate the two of you for a few nights. 
Poor Lucy. Wonder how she still deals with you being next door.
Groaning, you put your phone back into your back pocket, before your hands rubbing over your face in exhaustion. 
Not only was your boss extremely cranky and rude today, but everyone was on edge due to his behavior. You couldn’t even talk to your coworkers without them using the excuse of ‘I have to leave’ whenever he steps foot into the room. Plus, the stress of bills, your current boyfriend, and the harassment was getting to your breaking point. 
God, you hated this job. But it paid your bills. That’s all you cared about, right?
You scoffed, feeling your back prick and pop in places that sounded like it shouldn’t. Looking at the fridge in your kitchen, you slumped over and walked over to it, talking to yourself as you opened it, reaching down for the leftover pizza box that you didn’t get to finish last night.
Barely eating a few pieces, you were already heading down the hallway to your bedroom, peeling off your sweaty work clothes. However, something stopped you in the tracks that made your heart jump right out of your chest and into your mouth. 
Roses. Roses were on your bed. Sure, it was beautiful. The lilac, reddening color shining in your room was gorgeous. 
But who put them there?
You stared at them. Who the hell was in your apartment? Was it maintenance? Maybe a surprise gift they gave out for people living here in the poor-run down apartments?
No. It couldn’t be. Rarely do they ever give you things — especially flowers. What and who the fuck?
“Do you not like them?” 
You jumped at the sudden rough voice, dropping your pizza on the floor and whipping around, seeing a giant man sitting in your favorite chair in the corner of your bedroom; wearing a thick, menacing skull balaclava, piercing your skin like a knife. 
“Who… the fuck are you!” you shouted. Your feet stepped back, watching him as he repositioned himself — his elbows now resting on the armrests of the chair, and leaning forward into the obvious comfy chair. You couldn’t help but judge the guy. Who wears a skull mask other than on Halloween? Was he a killer? Going to slice you—!
“I would think you’d know that with the stuff I gave you.” 
A chill ran down your spine. So was this — no, this was the guy. 
The man who left your favorite chocolate on your window seal each morning, the sweet notes of compliments, sometimes bearing suggestions on things you should wear that day. And the huge bouquet on the front door, which was soon transported to your dinner-table, that was left every Friday.
Oh, my g-d.
“Holy shit,” you gasped, finally looking at his outfit, seeing the Britain flag sewed on his Khaki pants. It’s military. What the fuck did you do? “Did I break the law?” you hushed out, terrified at the man.
However, the man in front of you snickered. “Doubt you’d have the guts to break the law, sweetheart.” 
“I– what?” you looked at him dumbfounded. Who the fuck was this guy? 
“Ya’ heard me, only have a speeding ticket,” he remarked, making you dart your eyes toward behind you to the hallway, seeing the front door before back at him. “Pretty impressive for your age, if ya’ ask me.”
Your brain short-circuited. “How… do you know that?” you posed, feeling your breathing quicken. “I have so many questions,” you added. But yet, the man stared at you with his darkening eyes. Didn’t help that your room was dimmed. You really should’ve fixed that light. 
He stared at you before speaking up. “Bet ya’ do. I’m all answering them as long as you get rid of that cunt of a boyfriend.” 
“E… ‘cuse me?” you stammered, taking another step back. But, your anger got ahead of you; your eyebrows knitted against each other. “I can assure you that he treats me well.”
Though, the man just scoffed and stood up as your throat closed at the sight of the man. Why the fuck was he so tall? “Sure. Keep imagining that sick fantasy image of yours, and you’ll wake up in the hospital with a broken nose.”
You wanted to defend yourself. But he was right. Breaking your index finger hurts like a bitch. The frequent fights were exhausting. The last time you tried talking with Liam about visiting a close friend an hour away ended up with his hand reaching out towards your wrist, twisting it with a large sprain and a large hospital bill. 
The yelling. The self-blame. The hours of constant harassment with texts and calls. The horrible smell of booze. You really fucked up your love life, didn’t you? 
“But,” he started, a thick accent voicing in as he stepped closer into your direction. “I can treat you better, love. Someone who won’t hurt ya. Treat you like the doll you are.”
You narrow your eyes at him, nervously biting at the inside of your cheeks as you wait for him to continue. 
“I’ll make sure to treat you well. Something you haven’t been lucky to feel. Your parents were mean towards you, no?” he asked questionably, and it made your heart drop to your stomach. “But, I can take care of you; better than anyone has.” 
So many questions raced through your mind as your eyes darted at the floor then back toward the man. Like a rabbit, you stiffened. Confused. Body shaking as the predator approached. 
“I don’t… even know who you are,” you replied, tightening your hand into a fist. Your heart was speeding, hands and legs shaking with fear. Your throat stiffened. He could clearly see it — and yet somehow, his eyes got softer; those brown pupils having a sad and apologetic look. Almost like a dog trying to comfort you. 
You don’t know you’re crying until you feel a gloved thumb wipe them away, causing you to flinch. Realizing that the man was now in front of you, you tried to step back, but your ankle hit the bedroom wall, securing you in a close habitat. 
But, with everything going on, you didn’t have the energy to push him away nor look up at him. Continuing to look at the floor as your mind circled around on whom the fuck was this man? 
“Look at me, will ya’?”
You hesitated. Didn’t reply. But as he said your name, a shiver traveled down your spine, and you looked at him – his predominant features coming in. Even with your anxiety and fear swirling in your stomach, you looked at the creases in his eyebrows, the clashing scars near his temple, eyes, and brows. His jarring eyes surrounded by black eyeshadow, seemingly gentler, almost like they were trying to welcome you into a trap. 
You stare up at him with half-lidded eyes. And with a gasp, you felt his hand take your chin, his palm almost eclipsing the lower half of your face, and turn your head right into the direction he wanted you to: staring at him in the eyes.
“I promise. I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassures, though, it doesn’t help as more tears drowned down on your behalf. 
And yet, you couldn’t fathom his words. 
“I don’t–” you started, taking a deep and sharp inhale, “–trust you, I don’t even know your name. How can I know you’re… not some, serial killer?” your question was weak. And stupid. But it was the only thing you could think of out of the bluster. 
His eyes narrowed at your reply before answering at your ‘plea’. 
“I suppose that’s a start,” he huffs.
You looked at his eyes, before narrowing down at the mask. And clearly, by your eyes and non-answer, he nodded at your invisible ask. 
Stepping back, the man’s hands traveled to lift the mask upwards. He revealed the point of his chin, the skin equally rough, like his demeanor. 
He didn’t stop from continuing, exposing more of his lower lip. The skin there was rugged and scarred, little creases in the flesh. Scars that made your heart thud awkwardly. At his cupid’s bow, where you saw a huge scar, it made you gasp quietly out of wincing. The thick mark going upward on his left lip, so callused and rough. It looks like it still hurts.
Finally, he pulled the mask fully off, revealing his natural-resting face, thick eyebrows, and the two large scars right above his filled brows. It helped a bit that he revealed himself, but you were still unsure how to… understand the situation.
He said your name, and it made you look at him. “Rest your worries when you’re by me, yeah?”
Those words fell into your stomach and twisted like a towel being squeezed. Though, somehow, in a way, you felt safer. A hesitant silence settles between you both, before you decide to speak up.
“Y–ou won’t hurt me?”  
Those stunning brown eyes take a moment to gaze into yours, searching something deeper in your meaning. Instead, all you could muster was eye contact that kept flickering to the floor and trying to calm your quickened breathing.
“What kind of man would I be if I did that, hm?” his voice is airy, tone-flimsy when asking his question. 
You swallowed thickly, “I want to know your name.”
“You do know my name, sweetheart,’” he coldly corrected you, “—use that smart brain of yours.”
Seconds blurred by you, trying to think – imagine what could or would be his name. But nothing came up. Nothing came to your brain, which, the man in front of you, hummed in acknowledgment at the state of your confused state. 
“Shame you don’t remember,” he started, a smirk curling on his face. “It’s Simon.”
Memories you didn’t know at the time came forward. 
Many things are given by that name — your favorite fast food being delivered to your home after a bad day, bouquets in expensive vases being delivered every week; cards given with clothes and money. And somehow, your insurance was now covering things they didn’t. 
Oh, and let’s not forget about the lingerie being sent. A note of: I hope to see you wear this tonight. Signed with initials: SR. 
At first, you thought it was Liam – but he was a cheapskate. Never liked spending money, especially on you. 
Your eyes widened, a bubble trapping itself in your throat — it was him. Police didn’t help, saying something along the lines of, ‘until they hurt you, we can’t do anything’. But when did they ever help? 
“So… what do you want, then?” you whisper, suddenly breathless with this proximity. You can see the gold-brown of his eyes clearly, the halo of honey flecks that cover the circumference of his pupil. His eyelashes flutter when he blinks, so pretty and… oddly feminine. 
“You.”
And just as he rasped that word, the banging on your front door started. The familiar yelling of Liam drowned out your thoughts, and his screaming made the two of you snap your head in the direction of the front door. 
He yelled out your name, and you flinched. Already feeling the bruising grabs, the constant screaming where your ears ring for hours. Oh god, what the hell did you do? 
“You– need to leave,” you ushered out, hands and legs shaking for the splinting images that shot through your head. 
He was banging on the door, jamming his fists; the handle being shaken so hard that it rattled stuck. It was all too much. 
Simon said your name, but you shook your head. Denying his existence. Danger was near, nobody would help save you. He needs to leave, he needs to leave, heneedstoleave—!
He grunted your name louder, and you looked at him with teary eyes; the small rivers turning into full tsunami’s. You couldn’t think. Breathe. He was here. Going to hurt you. He was going to die. So were you.
The door broke, the familiar thundering footsteps shook from across the house. And before you could react, Simon pushed you behind him — shielding you away from your abuser.  
“You—!” Liam screamed into the bedroom, a bottle of beer in one hand and his other clenched into a fist; his blue eyes burning into your stomach. You choked out a sob as he stepped further, but stopped at the sight of Simon. For once, Liam looked retched at his own thoughts. 
“Who the fuck are you?” he yelled, and the man only narrowed his eyes at Liam; challenging him with his height and quiet demeanor. 
“Get the fuck out.” his rough and dark voice sent shivers down your neck, making every hair stand up.
Liam scoffed, a plethora of curses voiced out, before he shut up. Your eyes narrowed, and as you looked at his shocked face, you saw a gun in view next — Simon’s finger gripping the trigger, aiming it at Liam’s head. 
Your heart leapt out. Fight or flight mode flicking on.
“Come on, man– we, we’re playing. Right—?” he chuckled out, and Simon grunted. 
In the dimmed room, you can see his high cheekbones and the absolute rage that is evident on his face, even hiding behind his mask. His hands are clenched around the gun tightly, finger curling even tighter around the trigger. 
“I’m not going to ask again; leave the fucking apartment.” 
Liam falsely chuckled, “O-or what? You’ll shoot me? Doubt you have the balls, my… guy.”
Within seconds, the gun went off — making you scream, closing your eyes, and covering your ears. Your fingernails scraped at your ears, making them ring. It hurt, not a single thought. Oh god, what the fuck happened? 
“—uck!” was all you could muster before you knelt to the ground, wrapping arms around yourself; teeth clenching down your lips as you felt— tasted blood. 
After a few minutes – or seconds – you open them up and find Liam, leaning on the wall for support, bleeding through his arm. There was so much– on the floor, on his hands. His eyes were widened, looking at the man in front of you; anger yet fear rising. 
He started hiccuping — more blood dripping down to the floor as he clenched his nearly wound. 
“Don’t ever let me see you again.”
Simon’s rough voice of threatening sent shivers down your body. Your breath hitched. Your body starts to shake as your eyes widen. Simon’s threat was enough for Liam to nod instantly, giving you one look before running out; not giving you a second look as it may not leave tonight with his face intact. 
You were about to say something, but the man cleared his throat and looked down at your shaking form. “Ya’ okay?”
You looked up at him, slowly nodding. In return, he said nothing, making you feel his eyes take in every detail of you. To your face and pupils, to your shaking legs and ragged breath. Yet, having never meeting you before, he gladly handed over his hand down to you. 
Looking up at his scarred hand, you hesitantly looked at it — large fingers, nails scratched and clear hangnails. You didn’t know what to do, other than grab it and strand up with his help. 
“Get your things.”
Your eyes narrowed, breath heaving. “Why?”
 He looked at you, brown pupils dilated. They were so feminine– pretty. His breath hitched, and a large hand grasped your shoulder. 
“Cause’ you’re gona’ be coming with me, forever.” 
Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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manjjiros · 6 months
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JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY
ran haitani x fem!afab!reader
cws: d/s dynamics, brat!reader, brat taming, spanking, fingering, spit, piv, creampie, ‘little girl,’ ‘brat,’ ‘slut’ used for reader, ask to tag.
from the ASM: ran and his girlfriend left in kind of a hurry after she spent the whole night with takeomi. i hope they don’t fight too bad.
over the loudspeaker: @sin-and-punishment (teehee)
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“i still don’t understand why you made us leave early!”
you pouted from your spot in the passenger’s seat of ran’s car, arms crossed over your chest and eyes focused on the night lights passing by. ran clicked his tongue in annoyance, his fingers gripping harder into the flesh of your thigh.
“i think you know exactly why we left early.”
“no, i don’t! it was so rude! all the other guys were still there and you threw a hissy fit and made us leave!” you whipped your head around to finally look at him for the first time since he had placed his hand on your back at the party and guided you away from your conversation.
he was angry. his jaw rolled at your comment, tongue clicking against his teeth. his index finger tapped against your thigh; if he was at a table, he’d be tapping that instead, rhythmically and with a certain ferocity behind it that meant you were in for it.
you knew what it was that caused him to get in this foul fucking mood. mostly because you had done it on purpose.
sidling up to takeomi to say hello in greeting was one thing. lingering around the older man, sharing a cigarette with him, letting him get you a drink from the open bar and eventually letting his hand wander to your thigh while talking? that was another thing entirely. 
ran had been the one to invite you along to the work party as a plus one. manjiro industries needed to keep up public appearances, after all, and renting out an illustrious party hall for new year’s eve was one good way to keep things under wraps. your caring boyfriend had allowed you to come this year, under the impression that you would cling to him and let him take you home.
instead, you had grinned and made your rounds to the other executives, clad in a tight dress and that thick fur coat he had purchased for you, before taking a seat at takeomi’s table to ‘catch up,’ your words, not his.
ran did not appreciate your complete disregard of him at the dinner. he wouldn’t allow it to go unchecked.
“are you gonna answer me? or are you just going to sit there all quiet like you’re a child? what are we, five?” you hissed at him, trying to tug your thigh out from under his grip, but he curled his fingers tighter into your exposed flesh to prevent you from going anywhere. he said nothing as he used his other hand to turn the car into the parking garage of his high-rise building, veins in his forearm flexing with the movement. you hadn’t realized he hadn’t even put his suit coat back on before leaving, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. you had half a mind to ogle him at the moment, focusing on the fact that you were in fact still mad at him for his silent treatment and for being pulled from a fun party early.
he turned rather quickly into his parking spot, finally letting go of your thigh to put his luxury car in park and get out. you didn’t give him a chance to come around and open the door for you, as he often did. you stepped out of the vehicle, heels clicking along the pavement. he still wouldn’t look at you, not even coming around the car to wait for you. he slung his suit coat over his forearm and tucked his keys into his pocket as he felt around for his keycard, walking ahead of you.
“excuse me? hello? earth to ran? are you seriously going to ignore me now?”
“don’t yell, it echoes in here. you’ll embarrass yourself.”
oh, now you were boiling, hurrying your pace in your heels to catch up to him. “are you being serious? don’t embarrass myself? imagine how i felt when you practically dragged me out of that party! you’re acting like we’re in grade school!”
ran’s brows twitched as he rolled his eyes at you, swiping his keycard in the elevator pad to open the doors and allow you both access. you followed him in, and watched him swipe his keycard yet again to gain access to the top floor where his unit was. 
“i don’t see how i’m the one acting like a child when you did the same shit. what were you thinking, huh? that getting all close to takeomi wouldn’t be such a bad idea?” his voice was rough as he tucked his keycard away in his pocket, cracking his knuckles as your face flared.
ah. this was about you. obviously it was, and you knew it well. your lips twitched before you turned away from him with a huff. “i don’t see an issue with knowing your coworkers, ran. or should i say, your other gang leaders.”
“no? you don’t think so?”
“nope. not at all.”
“final answer?”
“are we on a game show now? lock it in, host!”
“you’re a real fuckin’ brat, little girl.”
you didn’t get a chance to spew another word at him, because the elevator made that sweet chiming noise to let you know you were on the right floor, and ran was all up in your space.
his hand met your lower back and guided you out roughly, making you stumble in your heels. “hey-!”
“enough already. i don’t want to hear any more fucking complaints come from you. no sounds unless you’re crying my name, do you understand me?”
ran moved his hand from your lower back to the nape of your neck as the doors of the elevator closed silently behind you. his fingers dug into your skin as he forced you to look up at him. his eyes were blown and dark in that way that made your whole body feel like it was alight in flames. 
your head bobbed in a yes motion, feeling the way his fingers were twitching against the sides of your neck. ran was pissed, rightfully so, and you were in for it.
he let go of you entirely and tossed his suit jacket over the back of the nearest loveseat, loosening his tie and sliding it off. you stood near the elevator still, dazed and confused, while he took a seat and messed with his tie.
he looked over the back of the couch at you with a glare and a crook of his finger, and you were following immediately, circling to the front of the couch and standing in front of him.
“turn around.”
you blinked down at him before slowly turning away from him. his hands reached up and tugged your fur coat off, tossing it haphazardly to the side and probably to the floor. you felt the rough pads of his fingers between your shoulder blades as he fumbled with the tiny zipper holding your dress up. he tugged it down, down, down, his knuckles ghosting along your spine as he moved, before he was peeling the fabric off of your body and dropping it to the floor to pool around your ankles.
“no panties, either? what, did you want to get slutted out to everyone in the fucking room?”
“no, i-”
“shut up.” he hissed through gritted teeth. “you could be so good if you just fucking listened.”
you stood bare in front of him, back turned to him on the couch. your thighs trembled; you knew that in the dim lighting of the lamps in the living room, ran could see the slick that glistened between your folds. 
he tapped the back of one of your knees and you turned to face him. he’d unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt, tattoos starting to poke out. he sat up on the couch then and reached up to grab your jaw, squishing your cheeks together and tugging you close. you gasped slightly from the sudden movement, stumbling forward to stand between his knees.
“open.”
you furrowed your brows at him, and he squeezed your cheeks harder.
“i said, open.”
with a tap of his index finger on your cheek, you relented fully, opening your mouth as asked. you expected him to shove his fingers into your mouth, make you gag and choke.
what you didn’t expect was for him to take a brief pause before spitting directly into your mouth. you moaned, a sound you didn’t anticipate to come from your own throat, as the taste of his saliva coated your tongue.
you barely had a moment to think about it before ran’s mouth was on yours, practically devouring you whole as his hands moved to your hips to drag you into his lap.
you went with ease, straddling his waist and wrapping your arms tight around his neck. he hungrily licked into your mouth, tasting the drink that takeomi had gotten for you still on your tongue mixed with his spit.
he pulled back with your bottom lip between your teeth, making you whimper and grip at the short hair at the base of ran’s neck.
“y’such a needy little fuckin’ brat, huh? goin’ out to a party with dangerous men and wearing nothing underneath your little dress. what did you want to happen? wanted one of the other men to grab you and whore you out in front of everyone? in front of the boss?”
he growled practically against your lips as you started to rock against the bulge in his slacks, no doubt leaving a wet patch in your wake. one of his hands moved from your hip, and for a moment you thought he would grab a handful of your tits like he always did, flicking at your nipple and making you keen.
ran, ever the surprising man, brought his hand down on your ass, hard. 
you cried out from the sting and arched your back, tears springing to the corners of your eyes. “r-ran-”
“that’s a good girl, finally saying my name like i asked.” ran hummed against your jaw as he nipped at the skin there, bringing a heavy hand down against your ass again and making you jolt and whine.
suddenly his hands returned to your hips, and he moved you easily down onto the couch cushions, pushing your face into a throw pillow and hiking your hips up high. sometimes you wondered how he had the strength to move you around like you were nothing, but you were in no position to ask him at the moment. you felt dizzy as you hit the couch, hips wriggling and hands scrambling for purchase on the cushions.
you heard the clinking of ran’s belt behind you, feeling the warmed metal of the gucchi logo bump against your thigh as he slid it out of his belt loops. you felt one of his hands slide along your spine, rings dragging along your skin, the other coming down on your other ass cheek and making you yelp.
“brats like you need to be reminded of who you belong to, don’t you think?”
you went to respond, but again, you didn’t get a chance. ran’s two middle fingers swiped through your folds before pushing into your tight hole, scissoring you open roughly and stretching you out. you felt his rings bump against your pussy, the cold metal making you pulse around his digits.
“you get off on making me mad, don’t you? you like when i throw you around and spank this pretty ass?”
you nodded, and heard him stifle a laugh. “of course you do. sluts like you crave attention. that’s why you were all over takeomi tonight. i heard he gets real rough on girls. you want me to be rougher? huh? answer me.”
you were drooling against the pillows as his fingers hooked into you in the right spots, dragging along your gummy walls and filling the large living room with the wet squelching sounds of your cunt. you found it in yourself to nod, head turning to press your cheek into the pillow and try to get a better glimpse of ran bending over your back.
this time, he did laugh, removing his fingers and popping them in his mouth for a taste. you clenched around nothing, feeling so empty without his fingers filling you just right. “all you had to do was ask, brat. you didn’t need to go and make me angry.”
there was a pause as you heard him fumble with the fabric of his slacks, leaving you trembling in front of him. knowing he was still mostly dressed while you were completely nude in front of him almost made you bashful, wanting to shy away from him as he freed his cock and slapped the tip against your clit.
“beg.”
“ran! ran, please, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have gotten close to ‘omi, jus’ wanted you to be rough, i’m sorry, please fuck me!” the words tumbled from your wet lips so effortlessly, thrumming at the feeling of ran’s cock sliding slowly through your folds as he listened to you whine.
he slapped his hand down against your ass, and you swore the rings on his fingers would leave bruises in the morning with indents of the hard metal bands. he grasped both globes of your ass and spread you open for him, cock pressed up against your dripping hole as he had you exposed in front of him.
you heard him gather spit between his lips before it dripped down onto your pussy, cold and tantalizing, as if he was further lubing you up.
“wanted me to be mean to you? shoulda just said that.”
you babbled incoherently until finally, finally, he popped the head of his cock into your cunt and bullied his long length all the way in. 
you moaned, already starting to shake as he started a rough pace. his hand repeatedly came down on your ass, making you shake and cry out under him. if it was possible, you knew he’d be in your guts.
he filled you perfectly, slamming himself into your sweet spot over and over again. he bent his body over your back, the fabric of his shirt scratching against your skin as he moved one of his hands to shove three fingers into your mouth. he pressed on your tongue and made you gargle and gag around his digits, smiling meanly at your teary face.
“see, brat? this is what happens when you get me mad. this what you needed tonight? just needed to get fucked so hard you can’t see? can’t - fuck - think? squeezin’ me so tight, don’t tell me you wanna cum already.”
you did. his words, the spanking to your ass, it had you spinning and flying close to the edge within minutes. ran was chuckling breathlessly at you, gritting his teeth from how tight you were squeezing his cock.
he fucked into you hard and rough, tip of his cock carving a home inside your tight walls. your ass stung, each smack sending you closer and closer. you choked on his fingers when he pushed them further back into your mouth, almost into your throat.
“fine, slut. go ahead, cream all over my cock. cum. fucking cum.”
you practically screamed. well, you would have, had there not been three fingers in your mouth making you gag and drool all over his hand. your whole body shook as your eyes rolled back, pleasure washing over you like a tsunami’s wave hits the coast.
ran did not stop. he didn’t slow down, not for a second.“we’re not done here. you wanted mean, you’ll get mean.”
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carlgrimesenthusiast · 11 months
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saviour! reader x carl where he’s got a huge crush on her and thinks she’s soooo hot so when the two find themselves alone, and she makes a suggestive comment towards him, he begs her to have sex with him
we’re supposed to hate each other…
warnings: swearing, smut.
a/n: i decided to make this into an actual fic instead of just short couple of paragraphs. plus i haven’t written a fic in a long time! i also wrote in capitalisation and didn’t make the writing smaller, thought i would try it out.
also, i made reader negans daughter so it would fit to the title, but everything else is the same!
You heard someone knocking on the door from the other side of the door. “Come in.” You yelled, rolling your eyes. Someone always had to interrupt whilst you were reading a book.
“Alright, pumpkin. Get up, we’re going to Alexandria.” Your father said, after opening the door. You love going to Alexandria, mostly because of a special someone always being there whilst your father went off taking supplies from everyone. You and Carl were supposed to hate each other, at least that’s what you thought.
Whenever you saw Carl, you get butterflies in your stomach but your ignored them. Even if you were supposedly dating, would it really work out? Your fathers hate each other and even thought hate is a strong word, they really do hate each other. You wouldn’t blame Rick, Carls dad, you knew what kind of person your dad was but that didn’t change the fact that you still love him.
“Fine.” You abruptly sat up, removing the blankets off of you and leaving the marked up book onto the bed side table. “When are we leaving?” You questioned, taking your jacket and putting it on.
“Now, all the trucks are outside all ready.” Your father said, waiting for you to hurry up.
“Well, I’m ready so let’s go.” Negan nodded before turning around, opening the door wider and letting you leave first before closing the door and locking it.
You made your way outside, walking past all the workers and taking quick glances at them. You felt bad for them but weren’t they being kept safe? It shouldn’t be that bad, it’s way better then being left outside with all those walkers lurking around. If I were them, I’d prefer to be kept inside, fed and being able to sleep all safely, well mostly safe…
You boarded the car with you dad, not being bothered to buckle your seatbelt because who else would be driving on the road apart from the Saviours? You and Negan made small talk, a large quantity of it being what we would take when we get there and if your dad was going to stir up even more hatred.
You arrived outside the gate of Alexandria, you waited for the Alexandrians to open the gate before all the vehicles made their way inside.
You jumped out the car happily, you loved being here. You honestly wish you were here instead of the Sanctuary. The houses and the trees and the bright sun, everything about it here was beautiful. You were brought out of your thoughts when a certain someone made their way towards you.
“Hey, Y/n, haven’t seen you in ages.” Carl said, hands in his pockets whilst he looked down at you with his eyes squinted from the sun.
“I saw you like last week…” You had an obvious look on his face, did he miss me or something? You smiled at the thought of Carl missing you.
“What you smiling about?” Carl questioned, your smile immediately dropped.
“Nothing.” You folded your arms across your chest, “now, show me something that I might be interested in.” Last week when you came to Alexandria, you met up with Carl again and you told him that next time you’re here, he should show you all the things he found for you that you could be interested in having.
“Alright, I’ll lead the way. It’s in my bedroom, by the way.” Carl nodded before leading the way, you were both stopped by someones voice.
“Darling, where you going?” Your fathers voice boomed out, you turned around to see your dad standing there with the Saviours carrying supplies back to the trucks.
“I’m going with Carl, he’s offering me things he thinks I might like.” You shouted, loud enough for Negan to hear since he was quite far.
“Alright, be back in 10 minutes!” He shouted back, you nodded and held your thumb up to show that you will be back.
“I’ve got some things that you will definitely like to have, hopefully.” Carl whispered the last part to himself, thinking that you couldn’t hear him, but you did.
Carl opened the door to his house and let you enter, you were shocked. Your face didn’t display it but your mind was thinking otherwise. The furniture, the carpet, the lights, the living room. Everything about it is so homely, exactly like it was before the world went to shit.
“Everything’s in my room, come on.” Carl shut the door behind him and led the way upstairs. He opened the door to his bedroom, there was one poster in his room and a ton of shit on his bed. That’s what he was offering, a ton of comics that you wondered where he found them, video games, books, a paint set…in prestige condition as well. You seriously needed to know where Carl found this stuff.
“I want the comics.” You said before making your way to the comics, picking it up from his bed and flicking through it.
“That’s my second favourite.” Carl pointed out, closing the door behind him and walking to stand beside you.
“Oh, well, then I’m taking it.” You smiled, “it’s so hot in here.” You fanned your face before taking your jacket off and placing it on the chair that was in Carls bedroom.
“Be careful, there’s some weird scenes in that one. That’s why it’s my favourite.” Carl joked, you chuckled slightly.
“So what, like sexual stuff?” You asked, he nodded. “Let’s recreate them.” You joked as well. Carl stayed quiet, not knowing how to react. His mind went to other places…he couldn’t help but think about you and him recreating those scenes… “Carl?” You nudged him, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah?” He breathed out, a very obvious rose pink blush spread across his face. “Do you really want to recreate those?” Carl blushed.
“Do you?” You looked at him, he breathed in before nodding.
“I mean, we only have like 5 minutes left…maybe another time.” You glanced down at your watch.
“No!” Carl startled you, your eyes widening at the sudden burst. “I mean, 5 minutes is enough.”
“Are you sure? What if my dad comes barging in the room and sees us?” You feared.
“He won’t, we can be quick.” You looked at Carl unsure, you felt your panties starting to stick to you. “Unless you totally want to, I’m not forcing you. In fact, let’s just forget about what I said. You wanted the comics, here you can have them.” Carl reassured you, he didn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t like.
You found it cute how he was talking so fast, almost like he was nervous. The thought of Carl missing you and being nervous about you made you wet.
“Alright, let’s go back outside. I bet your dads waitin-“ You cut Carl off by grabbing his face and smashing his lips against yours. He held his hands over yours, you let go off his lips with a deep breath.
“You said we’ll be quick, right!?” You were already removing your shirt, Carl kissed you again before taking taking his own shirt off revealing his body to you. You gasped, running your hands along his body, feeling his light muscles coming out.
You laid Carl down onto the bed, sitting on his lap. He unclasped your bra from behind for you and took id off. He stared at your boob, mouth agape. “Can I?” He looked up at you, needy.
“Of course.” That’s all you needed to hear before his lips wrapped around your nipples. “Fuck.” You breathed under your breathe, tugging onto Carls hair.
Carl let go with a ‘pop’, you stood back up removing your jeans along with your panties whilst Carl did the same, removing his boxers. You straddled Carl again, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him in, your lips made its way to his neck.
“Please, please.” Carl begged, you probably only had about 2 minutes left so you had to be quick.
Carl slowly felt your pussy, “Shit.” he was harder then ever now, he needed you wrapped around him so badly. He slowly aligned himself with your seeping hole. He slowly thrusted into you, letting you get used to the feeling.
“Carl.” You moaned, his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer and kissing your neck. You whimpered, feeling Carl sucking on your neck.
“Fuck, next time I see you, I’m gonna take it nice and slow with you. Treat you real nicely.” He groaned, you rolled your hips in sync with Carls thrust.
You felt yourself coming close, “Shit baby, you feel so good.” Carl praised, his praises brought you closer. You bit your lip to suppress your moans.
“Fuck.” You held onto Carl so tightly as you came, Carl kept going to help you through your orgasm. You felt Carl release inside of you.
After you were out of the haze, you began to get redress. You retouched yourself, fixing your hair making sure it looked like it did before, fixing your clothing and soothing your hand over it to fix the creases. “I’m sorry this wasn’t quite the best ever, but I promise you when you come back I will treat you even better.” Carl held your hands within his, kissing each knuckle.
“This was the best carl.” You reassured him, “i’ll see you later.” You giggled, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before you and Carl made your way outside.
“There you are kid, I was getting worried.” Your dad said, folding his arms and a relieved look on his face.
“Sorry.” You giggled, you got into the car with your dad. Before leaving, you waved at Carl smiling so much.
“Did Carl not have anything good?” Negan asked.
“Nope” You popped the ‘p’.
“Why’re you smiling so much? Never seen you smile this much before.”
“No reason.” You looked back outside the window, he didn’t need to know the reason why you were.
a/n: i got lazy at the end :(( i’m sorry about that, i hope you enjoyed nonetheless! this is the longest fic i have ever written, my hands are very tired… also i just realised the title doesn’t really go with the plot but oh well… hope u enjoyed though!!!
thank you anon for the request!!!
(not proofread)
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seraphdreams · 1 year
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NINTENDHOE! — cyber sex collab.
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STARRING. stepbro!shinichiro sano / camgirl!reader.
CONTAINS. stepcest, smut, mutual masturbation, phone sex, praise, pervy yet smitten shin + eighteen plus only.
WORD COUNT. 1.6k
NOTES. this is a part of @fuwushiguro ‘s cyber sex collab , i hope u enjoy ! i’m so very into this stepbro shinichiro lore.
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“Fuck, I missed it..”
Shinichiro looked down at his watch, the numbers displayed to him letting him know it was way past midnight. He had practically spent all day in his shop repairing one of the bikes his best friend, Wakasa, had managed to break down, and if working overnight wasn’t the issue, it was definitely the fact that he missed his favorite camgirl’s stream—You, his adorable stepsister.
He had known you were camming for a while, and if you were to ever find out all the perverse things he’d done when it came to you, he’d know that you’d definitely leave his life completely. And he can’t have that. Horniness aside, Shin loves you more than anything, he wouldn’t dare risk vexing his little sister.
An exasperated sigh is let out from Shinichiro as he switches his kneeled position to standing up fully, hovering over the motorcycle while loosening the buttons of his overalls so that the fabric fell comfortably around his waist. Years of fighting on the side aided Shin in his lean physique, toned arms covered in a thin sheen of sweat as his torso is clad with a white tank top, and a singular silver chain around his neck.
He looks over the bike, making sure he mended all that needed to be done before pressing his foot to the gas and starting up the engine.
Perfect. He was finally done and able to go back home to see you. If he was lucky, he’d even get to watch the replay of your previous livestream—although nothing was better than seeing, and hearing you, live.
Just as he turned his back to make way to the door, he’s greeted with the forgotten sight of another motorcycle. What the fuck? How could it have slipped his mind that he had to maintenance check Wakasa’s other bike before a certain time tomorrow morning? “The shit I do for that fucker.”
Before fatigue could swallow him whole, he seats himself on one of the chairs, pulling out his phone and hovering over the facetime button with your name above it. What type of big brother would he be if he didn’t check in on his sister? He taps the screen and allows it to ring.
“Hello?”
The low tone of your voice instantly eases the stress in Shinichiro’s body, feeling as if he’d just taken the strongest dose of any painkiller.
You searched for a place to set your phone down so that he could see your face, and you settled for the dresser. You pace backwards a bit, making sure your whole body fits into the frame of the camera as you waved with an endearing smile.
“Hey,” Shinichiro starts. “Just lettin’ you know I’m gonna be stuck at the shop for a little.. Do you need anything?” He takes in your appearance as you shake your head, the little white towel wrapped around your chest and tautly hugged the plush of your thighs egging on his confusion, much more—His arousal. “Whatcha up to? You’re all covered up.” He smiles, turning his head to look away, his charming side profile filling your screen.
“Was just in the shower, that’s all.” Your response urged a chuckle from him. That’s all? It’s adorable how you manage to still be so innocent for him as if your fingers weren’t lodged deep in your cunt for your followers to see just 15 minutes before.
Shinichiro takes the pack of cigarettes from his overall pocket, taking one out and lighting it. He makes sure to hold it between his teeth after one slow drag.
“You’d better get dressed then.” He doesn’t miss the way you reach over for your phone as if you were about to hang up, catching you before you get too far. “You can change on the phone. I’ll close my eyes—Won’t look at all.”
He does as he promises, closing his eyes to gain your trust and once you feel as though he means it, you drop your towel, completely bare for him. You turn away in search of your moisturizer, squeezing some out on your palm and working it gently onto your skin. Within minutes you forget that Shinichiro is still on the phone, his promise broken unbeknownst to you as the cigarette barely hangs from his mouth, his eyes on your body as you knead your tits.
It’s a mindless behavior when you bend over to apply lotion to your legs, Shinichiro having to stop himself from thinking—or doing, anything rash.
But the devil on his shoulder gets the best of him and he’s slowly unbuttoning the first few buttons of his bottoms, his hand dipping under the band of his briefs to whip out his cock. How long has he been hard? It wouldn’t matter anyway with the way it leaks and beads down the shaft. He wraps his hand around the base, slowly stroking as he watches how you run your hands over your body a second time, much slower than the first.
You have to be teasing, allowing your hands to massage every inch of your body while you try and find something to throw on. You’re bent over in front of your dresser, a peek of your pussy exhibited for your big brother.
The cigarette that was languidly hanging from his lips fell beside him on the ground, effectively putting itself out. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why were you like this?
The stroking pace of his rigid length gradually quickens, the only thought surging through his corrupt mind being the image of you riding his face, whining out for your big brother to slow down as you would continually make a mess of it while he’d take care of you in just the way you need. He knew you felt stagnant when it came to camming. He could see it in those once sparkling eyes of yours that you wanted more. You didn’t need a piece of silicone, and your fingers could barely go in deep enough—You needed him, your big brother.
Caught up in his thoughts, Shin inadvertently lets a few groans slip, his nose scrunched in pleasure and head rolled back as his adams apple bobbed with every profanity growled under his breath. “Fuck, Y/N.. Y’don’t know what you do to me.”
The slick noises emitted from your phone’s speaker turn your attention back to him. Is he…?
In any case, you’d be revolted, yet you can’t find it in yourself to harness that feeling, instead growing aroused at how pretty Shinichiro looked while pleasuring himself. You sat back on your bed mesmerized and your mind wandered to multiple different scenarios with your big brother placed at the forefront. What it would be like to kiss him, maybe get on your knees for him. How he’d look hovering above you with his chain dangling in your face while he’s balls deep in your cunt, the girth of his cock causing him to hit every spot so effortlessly. Before you knew it, your own hands found their way back to your sensitive heat.
If it weren’t for the whimpers you let out while pleasuring your clit, Shin would’ve forgotten he was on the phone. Your choked up mewls snap his focus back to you with your legs spread in front of the camera and free hand pinching your pert nipples.
Am I fucking dreaming? He thinks to himself, eyes gone wide comically while he studies you just as he would when watching your nightly streams. Instead your expression is different. It’s not the same glazed-over emotionless pout that fools in your comments would mistake for genuine satisfaction. It was different, eyes squeezed shut with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth and sweet moans he had never heard before flowing through his ears.
“N-Need you so bad, Shin.” Mindless babbles left your lips, the sentence that your smitten big brother had been waiting to hear. If only you knew how bad he needed you; How no other girl seemed to satiate his everlasting lust like you do. You’re an angel—His angel.
Just watching you causes his hand to involuntarily continue stroking his cock, this time at the same pace as the fingers that dip in and out of your sweet cunt. He squeezes the tautly at the tip, imagining it’s your heat that’s getting him off, the satisfying drag of the warmth of his little sister pulling him closer to the edge with how good she feels.
You feel as though your senses are heightened with the way he watches you, your fingers slowing down in pace as you feel your orgasm build up prematurely. “Keep—Keep going, just like that, pretty..” Shin rasps under his breath, eyes lidded at the sight of you as if he took notice of your faltering pace. “Almost there, baby. Keep going for me.”
Your heart flutters immensely with no sign of ever ending, his utterances fueling you to pump your fingers harder inside you. Just moments after, you’re releasing, moaning softly while riding out your high.
Unexpectedly at the sight of your pretty orgasm, Shin paints his hand in the creamy white of his seed, holding his cock at the base while resting against his chair, chest heaving as if he were in a marathon. “S-Shin-nii..” Your soft voice calls out. His attention is placed back on you, a lazy grin on his features. “Hm?”
“You’re so hot.”
You can hear shuffling on the other end of the line from him. “Oh lil’ sis, you’re hotter.” His shifting comes to an end. “‘m gonna, uh, clean up my little mess and get back to work..”
You nod your head as he talks.
“Maybe I can be in your stream tomorrow night?”
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reblogs, likes n comments r greatly appreciated !
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otterish · 18 hours
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A weird favor please...
I'm in a weird sort of bind... You see, I'm autistic, and along with that, I have narcolepsy and misophonia. What does this fucked up collection of weirdness mean? It means I am very sensitive to sound (The misophonia and the autism), and I have seizures that are triggered by stress and the tension headaches I get because of my spinal fusion.
Why all this info? You see, I have a lovely little MP3 player loaded with the most perfect white noise that is guaranteed to calm me down. It takes corded headphones, which is great because I can never find any bluetooth buds that fit in my ears. I have a birth defect that makes it nigh impossible to find any that fit. I did find some amazing corded earbuds though! They are the JVC Gummy in ear earbuds, and I've been using them for over 10 years. They only last about a year or two, but they are like 9 bucks and fit perfectly. Here is an amazon link so you can see what I mean: https://a.co/d/0drGMzDN
The thing is... I can barely afford food (We were on SNAP but they fucked everything up. AGAIN!), let alone the earbuds I need. One of my main misophonia triggers is anyone snoring, mouth breathing, and even sometimes just breathing normally. My husband snores really loud, and tends to have a stuffy nose a lot, so I cannot sleep in the same room with him if I don't have my headphones. If I had to, I would find something sharp and puncture my ear drums. It causes that much anxiety that I sincerely want to lose my hearing.
I'm down to my last pair of headphones, and when I couldn't find them at first I had a severe melt down. I wear them to bed due to my husband snoring, and I want to stay near him. I sometimes rest my hand on his back to feel him breathe, and when I wake up screaming due to nightmares, he always wakes up and holds me until I stop crying.
I know this is a long post just to ask for earbuds, but they work best for me and my sanity depends on them. If you can, I'd love it if you were able to slide one or two my way. I'm not picky on color, so my amazon wish list link is here: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/GTTJGT54GKDN
If you want another way, my cashtag is $JustAddOtter.
THANK YOU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE! My disability case is still going slowly through the pipes, plus when it goes through I'm going to have to pay $85 out of pocket for some blue lenses which will help with the seizures.
Also, may the assholes who removed headphone jacks from phones always have angry wasps land in their ears.
TL;DR: I need new headphones to help with my disability.
BTW, no guilt in not donating or even not reblogging but I would appreciate a sage nod of understanding when you read this.
EDIT: Thank you to those pointing out that my wishlist wasn't working properly, it's all fixed!
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gaybae1021 · 2 months
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Took a shot at drawing the Stardew Valley bachelorettes!
Maybe I’ll do the bachelors, I’m not as confident with drawing guys though. I definitely have ideas for some of them…
Edit: I did it
Individual pics and thought process under the cut:
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Made penny’s outfit a bit more teacher-like and gave her a big comfy cardigan because the girl needs something nice. Tried to make her a bit chunky to match what I imagine Pam’s body type would be, but she’s honestly so swallowed by the sweater her chub doesn’t really show through lol.
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Probably wins for biggest change from canon, but she was my first spouse so she deserved something special, and the idea of hot pink bell bottom jeans was too good to pass up. Also added a bag for her camera, she may be a fashionista but she’s still practical.
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Short queen.
Overall I just tried to make her look more like an inventor. So things like the motor oil stains and capped boots for safety, plus ample pockets for bolts and wires. Oh and I gave her more textured hair, though I tried to keep the overall square shape language it had originally.
Also her and Sebby both have dimples from Robin.
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Probably the design Im least satisfied with. I knew I wanted Leah to be more butch from the start, but I do thing it strayed a bit far from her characterization, especially with her loved gifts suggesting she has a more lavish taste.
Gave her some gray streaks, implying that she got a bit worn down from city life. I also gave her a tattoo, I thought it fit her living in the city. I imagine a heart event would have her cover it up with something more naturey and personal.
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My second wife! This one is pretty consistent with other designs I’ve seen, though I think I still added my own spin to it.
I personally don’t believe the wizard theory, so I made her natural hair match Pierre’s.
Also the scar isn’t from anything cool, I like to think she just tripped as a baby. But she’ll tell a different crazy story anytime someone asks.
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I love how different the depictions of Emily are, I’ve seen them range from graceful crystal goddess to full on manic pixie dream girl. Obviously my version is closer to the latter, though I tried to balance that out with a sense of maturity, given her job as a bartender. I love her being a giant string bean, like she’s bent over in the pose so she doesn’t look too much taller than the others, but I imagine she’s like 6’ 1”. Also she has a gem bracelet, to symbolize all the rocks I gifted her.
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