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#this was rude and callous of me
skelingtonsderek · 2 years
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Preparing for possibly becoming famous for unknown reasons by proactively posting my apology for what I said in the post where I say it
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pkmnprofloblolly · 2 years
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(@icetypelover) Hello, since biology is your thing I wanted to ask, how uncommon is a mutation where a Pokémon has two heads? I've seen it happen in Ekans and similar Pokémon rarely, but someone I know has a two-headed Houndoom, he was born with them. He's a gift from her father, back when he was a little Houndour pup, he's very well raised and gentle, though some fire can leak from his mouth when he's excited.
He's from a family of breeders who have been working with her father's family for generations where Houndoom are a Pokémon of choice, and they can't remember if it has ever happened before. The heads don't snap at each other and he's given a bit more food than a Houndoom his size would need since he has two brains, split in half so each head can eat, and he has no health issues.
I'm curious because there are two mythos I know, of Houndoom-like creatures with two and three heads, so it has to come from somewhere right? Since they're both represented as similar to Houndoom, does that mean it's maybe a mutation that can happen not so impossibly rare you wouldn't believe it in Houndoom?
wow, that's very fortunate that the fellow's gotten one just fine with two heads! extremely cool, what an exceptional lil guy, i'm glad the two get along.
polycephaly (literally "multiple headed") is a condition found all over the animal kingdom- including in humans!- and it isn't actually a mutation (with a notable exception we'll get to later). mutations specifically refer to changes in the genetic code- whether that's the flipping of a base pair, duplication of chromosomes, or so on- while polycephaly is actually a way that conjoined twinning can be expressed.
so, identical twins. identical (also called monozygotic) twins happen when a fertilized egg splits into two separate wholes at some point early in development- compare with "typical" development, where 1 egg + 1 sperm = 1 baby. identical twins happen when 1 egg + 1 sperm = 2 baby. compare with fraternal (or dizygotic) twins, which are formed from two separate eggs fertilized by two separate sperm. identical twins share a genetic code while fraternal twins do not (like any other sort of sibling). identical twins aren't super uncommon, though their rate of occurrence changes depending on where in the world you go.
now, usually this separation of the zygote into 2 embryos is complete. rarely, though, this splitting happens particularly late and doesn't quite finish, resulting in the two twins being connected in some fashion. this can result in an organism with one body and two heads, such as in your houndoom example, but can express in tons of different ways- for example, you may be familiar with the term "siamese twins" for conjoined twins: this originates from a famous pair of conjoined human twins from 1800's siam, chang and eng bunker, who were joined around the chest. in other cases, twins can be fused at the back of the head, the abdomen, the back, and plenty of other configurations.
survivability of these conditions varies wildly. some are easily separated, some live fine while conjoined, some must be separated for either of the two to survive, and unfortunately some are unable to survive at all, dying soon after birth.
the last case is usually what happens with two-headed organisms (something something, twice as many stars), but obviously, there are exceptions. while rare, organisms (of any sort- it's most famous in reptiles as you mentioned, but mammals (including humans!) can obviously exhibit it too) can live with these conditions as well.
also worth noting- when two complete heads are present, two complete brains are present! they may share organs and sensation, but the brains do function independently- so it's good that in your example the two get along! two-headed examples of less social species will often be much more antagonistic towards one another, since the two heads can recognize their counterparts as potential competitors or aggressors. this can cause problems in wild pokemon, who may waste precious time and energy squabbling over who gets to eat something that's going to the same stomach anyways (assuming the individuals share a stomach- sometimes there are two), leaving them vulnerable to attack.
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(you may be familiar with 12-string, a polycephalic seviper(s) owned by virbank gym leader roxie, who famously featured in some particularly intense PWT matches- two heads means two sets of venom glands, which means REALLY effective poison type attacks!)
this also raises the question of individuality- whether polycephalic organism(s) are considered one or two beings- and perspectives on this vary. some polycephalic twins consider themselves two separate people, while some consider themself one. in what way you consider polycephalic organisms without the ability to self-define in that way is up to you, really (which is to say, if a person with two heads considers themself one person, they are one person, and vice versa, but most nonhuman animals can't decide that for themselves and probably don't care how you refer to them).
now, uh, back to pokemon specifically, and those notable exceptions i mentioned. while polycephaly is exceptional in the vast majority of species, there are of course a few where having multiple heads is the norm: doduo/dodrio, deino/zweilous/hydreigon, and girafarig/farigiraf (there are a few others- like weezing or cherubi- but i'm talking about animals specifically here. also not to be confused with conglomerate pokemon like dugtrio or magneton, which are multiple separate individuals working as one). these instances are indeed genetically programmed.
the mechanism by which these pokemon develop their multiheadedness varies. doduo could be considered to be a conjoined twin- the zygote's partial split happens in much the same way, though enforced by genetics.
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(this process can indeed lead to an inverse of polycephaly, in which the two heads of the doduo fail to separate while in development. while rare, this condition is rarely fatal, and dodrio evolving from single-headed doduo tend to be two-headed. note how the dodrio's heads are asymmetrical, with one middle and one left head.)
girafarig does not develop by partial fission- the anterior and posterior heads develop separately, just the same as you develop two of each limb, girafarig develops two heads.
in cases where a pokemon gains more heads as it evolves, such as in dodrio and zweilous, the process is somewhat similar to how it happens in embryos- the head essentially separates into two in the split-second process of instantaneous evolution, with new growth making up the material lost to each head (or in hyderigon's case, the middle head keeping all the brain). in doduo->dodrio and zweilous->hydreigon only one of the two heads separates: the right head in doduo, and the left in zweilous. you can see in the two-headed dodrio above that the singular "right" head split into the middle and right heads, leaving a "blank" space where the left head would be.
you also mentioned the various mythos surrounding multi-headed creatures- indeed, some think that mythological beasts like hades' hellish houndoom cerberus may have been inspired by real-life examples of polycephaly, though we don't know for sure. cases of polycephaly are indeed extremely rare, so it'd be entirely understandable for folks in ancient times to think they're some sort of legendary beast, and you can find records of conjoined twin animals labeled as miracles or similar in some medieval texts.
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secretlythatsme · 7 months
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anyway dc x dp is my new fixation hell and i've had so many ideas for aus but one that's really sticking with me is a classic "danny has to run away to gotham because his home is no longer safe" au where danny is explicitly looking for other ghosts or at the very least is pulled to gotham because there are so many of them there.
he flies around for a while and finds this manor and he can sense so many nice ghosts! so he just. goes there! and stays! and this can be human danny showing up at their door injured or it can be ghost danny just flying in but regardless, the waynes would never turn him away. bruce would get suspicious absolutely, but he's seen enough traumatized abused kids to know the signs. thomas and martha? they think this new ghost kid is adorable!!
there could be angst sure but idk i love the idea of danny getting hurt by his parents or the giw and being so wary of more humans, and this place full of friendly ghosts would be so enticing. ghosts that don't try to immediately wreck his shit? ghosts that get territorial but are also extremely welcoming and have a habit of letting new kids into their haunt? the batfam who've dealt with the paranormal before and wouldn't give a shit? that's a normal tuesday for them babes. like please, danny just found heaven and it's in gotham.
despite all the "batfam adopts danny" aus i've seen, i rarely see people mention the ghosts of dead family members who would absolutely still be there and would definitely want to help danny :(
#anyway unrelated but as much as i love the concept of the batpham i do hate how all of it is soo ooc for the bats#like bruce may think danny is a meta at first but he wouldn't discount ghosts or Not believe him#and cmon the whole 'this bat doesn't even believe in ghosts' like babes santa clause is real in the dcu#ghosts is normal actually#and usually it doesnt bother me that much like i get that most people arent here for the bats#but i do really hate seeing hurt danny aus where the bats are just so... callous and uncaring about danny#like i get that its for the angst but like. the blorbos would Not say that ajkdhg#like they are The Protectors of Gotham and you seriously think theyd ever act uncaring or rude to an injured kid?#i feel like people forget that that batkids fighting each other has everything to do with family sibling issues#and specifically not wanting said siblings to be their siblings#and not like. them just being assholes to random strangers#like i get them maybe being rude if its an adoption au or secretly related au but even then#danny is also very nice and likeable and he's not gonna fight for their roles or try to insert himself in their dynamics#he's like the best random kid bruce Could pick up#anyway very unrelated to the post im just feeling some kind of way :(#i love the bats and i wish the fandom cared about them more :(#ANYWAY i love this little idea im specifically thinking alfred would be the first to figure it out#he just does man. he just Knows that someone else has been added to the family#i think itd be fucking hilarious if a new random tombstone got added to the family grave#bruce visits and he's mourning his parents and then he just sees daniel fenton and he's like who the fuck#'do i have amnesia?? concussion?? dementia????? who the fuck is this ancestor???????'#danny is eating alfred's cookies in the background and sweat laughing#danny: do i tell him or nah?#alfred: if you don't you'll get to see master bruce's detective skills in action 👨🏼‍🦳#.txt
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saviourfinn · 3 months
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One day sending stressful work texts will not make me vaguely nauseous. But that day is not today. Even better yet, one day I will not be stressed at the prospect of sending work emails/texts
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thebirdandhersong · 2 years
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lewkwoodnco · 9 months
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daydreamerdrew · 2 years
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Master Comics (1940) #35
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bucks-babe · 8 months
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Be Mean To Me
Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion 
Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female
Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut
A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut
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You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.
It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.
You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.
“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.
“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.
“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.” 
“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.
“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.
“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.
“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.
“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle. 
“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed. 
“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.
On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.
“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.
He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek. 
His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”
He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.
“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.
With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.
Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.
He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.
You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw. 
The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue. 
This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.
He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering. 
With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground. 
Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.
No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.
“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.
“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.
“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.
Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.
He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.
“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core. 
You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.
The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.
Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.
“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.
“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.
Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.” 
The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.
“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.
His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.” 
He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.” 
After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”
Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.
You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend. 
“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.
You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.
He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.
He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”
You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.
Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good. 
“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.
“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”
His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms. 
As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.
Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.
Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”
Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.
Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.
“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.
Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”
Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.
“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.
Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible. 
Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.
Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.
 The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said. 
You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.
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swirlingsanctum · 1 year
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When i was a baby/toddler/child i had to hang out with this family friend's kid who was 2 days younger than me and she was a bite baby, she bit everyone that came near her, and in all my little kid wisdom i would scream as loud as i could directly in her face every time she tried to bite me, and you know what? She stopped fucking biting me
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qomrades · 2 years
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i understand that fans are wide and varied in how they engage and interpret their preferred media, i disclaim. but i think that stranger things fans just do not appreciate how bitchy everyone is. like most of the characters are kind of a bitch. they all suck a bit. and its like 80% of the appeal
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sanguineterrain · 6 months
Note
for the dc prompts you reblogged:
can i request jason todd x reader "someone likes being pinned down" + A flirting with B while sparring to throw them off their tracks
where reader is also a vigilante??
thank you so much 🩷
very sexy prompts thank u 😌
jason todd x gn!reader. r and robin!jay were friends, r doesn't know jason is alive/red hood but jason knows r is a vigilante. r's alias is 'nocturne' (if that's already in use oh well lmao). fighting/sparring, jason is mega in love with you as usual!!
all fics at @sanguinelibrary
****
"Still blindly following the Bat, huh?"
You land in a crouch on the rooftop, just like how Nightwing taught you. The Red Hood doesn't look at you, digging through two duffel bags. He doesn't even draw his gun, like you've seen him do with virtually every other vigilante in Gotham.
You wait, ready to spring into action. But Hood doesn't stop what he's doing. Slowly, you rise.
"What... do you mean?" you ask.
"I mean, why are you traipsing around Gotham as a bat-adjacent? Who are you s'posed to be anyway? Goth Bat? Alternative Scene Bat?"
"I'm Nocturne," you say, shoulders rising to your ears. Rude. You thought the chunky boots and star over your suit's eye mask were inspired.
Red Hood lifts a hand. "Don't get me wrong, I dig the threads. I'm just surprised B didn't have an aneurysm over the sequins. Then again, Discowing did do it first..."
Your first two meetings with the infamous Red Hood have been similar in that he's never very concerned about you stopping him (ouch), but he also isn't callous or cruel with you like he is with the other vigilantes.
Case in point: the last person who cornered Hood on a roof was Red Robin. Hood shot him in the shoulder before he could land.
In short, he's perplexing as hell.
Batman's forbidden the rest of the team to confront Hood without backup. And you're technically not supposed to be on patrol tonight. But if you can intercept Hood, that'll be a huge win.
Hood keeps on packing the duffels. You hesitate, then step forward.
"Get away from the bags," you say. "I won't ask twice."
Hood looks at you. "Nocturne's a pretty cool name, I'll admit. And I like the boots. But I still think you oughta call it quits."
He zips up the bags, stands, and kicks them to the corner of the roof.
"Because you're just that unstoppable?" you ask, hands curling into fists.
"Yeah. But mostly 'cause I know you're made for so much more than this, sweetheart."
And that is the third and perhaps most bewildering thing about your encounters with Red Hood: you've gotten the creeping feeling that he... likes you.
Which is ridiculous, and if you ever breathed a word of that to anybody, Batman would probably check you into Arkham.
You take another careful step forward. Hood leans against the railing and folds his arms.
"This the part where you apprehend and hogtie me for innocently packing a duffel bag?" he asks.
You glare. "Innocent? I know you're making a weapons delivery because I know you've been waiting for Batman to be off-planet to make it."
"Clever. Told ya you're too good for this," Hood says. "Should be in college with those smarts, not playing maid for Batman."
"Are you lecturing me?"
"I'm advising you as your friendly neighborhood drug lord. Lecturing makes me sound like a guy who's got too much money and too big of a savior complex to understand that the way he fights injustice is fundamentally flawed."
"Sounds personal."
Hood laughs. "Honey, you have no idea."
You strike.
Hood parries your first attack easily, which you expect. The truth is that whoever trained Hood cut no corners and you're still relatively new at vigilantism. It's only by the grace of God that Hood hasn't left you to bleed out on a roof.
You kick his shin, but Hood turns on the instep and blocks. You go for his shoulder, where his armor separates to give him more movement. But Hood's ready for that too, and he catches your arm.
"Gotta keep that right arm up," he says. "Surprised no one's trained that outta you yet."
You elbow Hood in the throat. He coughs and lets go.
"Like that?" you ask, muscles tense with adrenaline.
Hood makes a sound that might be a laugh, still choked from your hit. "Just like that, honeylove. Good job."
"I don't need feedback," you snap, immediately going back in for another hit.
"Sorry. I'll make this quick then. I do have a delivery."
On the next strike, you advance, using a technique Nightwing drilled into your head for bigger opponents. Hood goes down and you land atop him.
"Oh, that's a Nightwing takedown if I've ever seen one," Hood says beneath you.
You're close enough that you can hear his breathing through the decoder. Pride swells in you at taking him down. Not even Batman has managed such a thing.
Hood is warm and big. His shoulder span alone dwarfs you. When you'd seen him from afar, fighting Batman or Nightwing, you'd been terrified.
But now, perhaps stupidly, you feel comfortable. Annoyed, but safe. Something about him reminds you of home. Makes your stomach flip in a good way.
Which is terrifying.
"You're coming with me," you say, reaching for your cuffs.
"If only. Unfortunately, you've forgotten a teensy weensy detail, dearest."
Hood bucks you off, legs first. Your feet fly into the air, which allows him to flip your positions. You wince, preparing for a concussion upon impact as you go down. But Hood cushions your fall and neatly rolls you over. Your back is pressed into the concrete, hands locked over your head. Hood's weight holds down your hips and legs.
He looms over you, easily holding you down. Your face grows hot.
"How did—" You squirm in his grip. "I had you!"
"Weight distribution, sweets. Tell Al—one of the Bats to add weight to your boots. They keep you light on your feet, but you were depending on them too much to hold me down, and we ain't evenly matched there."
You thrash in his grip. "Hood, I swear to fucking—"
"Easy. Don't sweat it, sweetheart. You haven't been doing this for very long. That was a good takedown, regardless. I'm impressed."
"Screw you."
He hums. You can tell he's smiling under the helmet. "Sorry, I forgot. You don't like feedback."
Hood strokes the inside of your wrist. You aren't sure he's aware he's doing it. His grip is firm but light. He's not trying to hurt you. Your pulse is in your throat.
For a moment, you're both still. Hood seems caught in a trance, like even Superman couldn't tear him away from this moment. From you. And it's not that you're afraid, you're just... you're...
"How do you know so much about me?" you blurt, because it's puzzled the whole team. "You been spying on me?"
"'Course not. Unlike your boss, I respect privacy. No, I did research. I recognized you from when you'd hang around that second Robin. Shrimpy little guy. What'd ya even see in him?"
The grief overtakes you before you can control your mouth.
"You don't know anything about me or him," you spit. "Don't fucking talk about him. He had more skill and goodness in his pinkie than you'll have in a lifetime. And you could learn a thing from him about changing a city. He'd tell you that fear alone never works."
Hood is quiet for a long moment. Then he speaks.
"Where's your distress signal?"
"Why would I tell—"
Hood shifts over you, cutting off your reply. He pulls a ziptie around your wrists. They're not even a little tight. You could probably slip out of them if you had five minutes.
"I know you're not s'posed to be out tonight," he whispers in your ear. "'S not your patrol night. Good thing you're my favorite."
You nearly swallow your tongue. "How do you—I don't—"
"Uh-huh. So you be good from now on, yeah? Wouldn't wanna have to keep tying you up like this."
You lift your chin. "We'll switch positions soon enough."
Hood snorts. "Okay, I know you heard how that soun—"
"I heard it," you say grumpily. "Just get on with it. Jerk."
"As you wish. Distress signal?"
"Collar."
Hood presses the button under your collar. Your breath hitches as his gloved fingers graze your neck.
"Oh? Does somebody like getting pinned down?"
"In your dreams."
Hood laughs. He zipties your ankles last, then sits you upright against the railing.
"Not too tight, are they?" he asks. "I know you've got a circulation problem."
You squint. "You seem to know a lot about me. Not fair that I don't know much about you, Hood."
"'S just business, honeylove," he says, scooping up his duffel. "Now I don't wanna see you in a suit anymore, comprende?"
"Or you'll what? Shoot me?"
Hood pauses, eerily still. He turns those glowing white eyes upon you. Your heart picks up.
"No," he says, so serious it startles you. "But someone else might. And I don't want you to face the same fate as your good friend Robin."
He vaults over the railing before you can respond. Your head thunks lightly as you lean back and wonder if you're really just business to the Red Hood.
(pt 2)
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cry4mina · 6 months
Text
Orion’s Belt
(Sana x fem!reader)
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Word Count: 7.5k
Fluff/Light Angst/ Smut
Summary: You and your bestfriend Sana take an impromptu vacation after her boyfriend dumps her sparking some interesting interactions and confessions. Tw: friends to lovers, suggestive, sex, drinking, swimming, anxiety on planes, food, thunder storms, cuddling. Let me know if I missed anything! A/N: Halfway proof read! This is a lot different than the others that I've posted and I hope you enjoy it just as much! Thanks to @neoplatinum for listening to me ramble off ideas and pushing me to finish this! Feedback always appreciated and DMs are always open!<3
“Sana! Are you ready to go? We have a flight to catch!” shouting from the foyer of her penthouse after letting yourself in with the spare key she gave you, patiently waiting for the Queen Femme to gather herself for your impromptu vacation.
“Yes, Y/n! Just give me a second!” flustered at being rushed by you, her best friend, though this entire vacation was her idea, how could she not already be prepared for it? 
Being best friends of about 4 years meant you and Sana did almost everything together and if she needed you, you were present with no hesitation. Sana purchased the tickets, booked the hotel, and sprung it on you two days before you were scheduled to leave, knowing you would agree immediately.
You and Sana met at a coffee shop downtown on a rainy evening in July all those years ago. Enjoying your latte and watching the rain trickle down the window when she caught your attention and told you she liked your shoes with a brilliantly beaming smile that knocked the wind out of you. You ended up talking for hours and have been inseparable ever since.
You have seen every emotion play across her face over the years, knowing her like the back of your hand and always anticipating what she needed or wanted. She loved that about you and always reciprocated the same tenderness and care.
Two massive suitcases emerge from the doorway, followed by Sana looking elegant as ever, wearing a strapless sundress that flowed off her figure perfectly, hues of peach lightly woven in a filigree pattern around the edges of the white fabric, giving her skin an celestial glow. Her hair is down and slightly messy which was not normal for her, but given her emotional state- and how much she had to pack this morning -you understood. She was just not herself today. 
Sana was going to pack last night but found herself laid on the couch on the phone with you, crying and stressing about her now ex boyfriend and how he broke up with her over text message for seemingly no reason, a few days prior. Confused by the action and saddened by the surprise separation, how could she organize a suitcase if she couldn’t even organize her mind?
The boy she had found herself in a relationship with was not someone you liked, in any sense of the word. The way he spoke to her was vile and always figured he was using her for a social status boost. It was hard to watch the relationship develop unevenly, one-sided in the way of Sana trying to make it work and him not caring in the slightest.
Hoping you were wrong, you said nothing to Sana about it. If she wanted the experience of being with him, you weren’t going to try to convince her to leave him, you knew better that to meddle in her business. Just being around for her if it all fell apart and it took 6 short months for the foundation to crack, cascading the rest of the relationship with it. Sana standing in the middle of the ash and smoke, sifting through the pieces of rubble for the parts of her she wanted to keep.
Truthfully, it hurt you knowing she was with him. The way he would ignore her speaking to talk to everyone else and being too emotionally distant and cold with her. Sana deserved better than this rude and callous man and you wished she knew how badly you wanted to give her the world. 
The anger you felt towards him was justified, you could treat her better even if you were hiding the feelings you developed for Sana. It was a difficult task, considering who she was as a person, so supportive, empathetic, kind and always willing to help anyone who needed it. No wonder you fell for her,  especially with how affectionate you were with each other after becoming so close. 
Always cuddling on the couch, holding hands, and leaning on each other. After almost drunkenly making out multiple times, you always assumed there was something there but never asked or acted on it in fear of losing the strong friendship you built with her over time. 
“Okay, okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.” huffing through the tense air surrounding her. The inflection of her voice drenched in stress with a hint of sadness as she tried to carry on like nothing was happening, catching the single tear that fell from her alluring eyes as it smoothed over her cheek.
You made an empathetic face at her, holding your arms out knowing she will find her way into them, burying her face in your neck, eyelashes tickling you as she sniffles and sighs, finally allowing herself to partially fall apart in your arms and you were just happy she felt safe enough with you to do so. 
Internally, your veins are screaming white fire as Sana leans into you more. Holding her was like holding the personification of the sun, and you were melting underneath her embrace. Warm tones of amber and sandalwood emanate off of her and fill your nose causing your heart to skip a beat, pulse quickening, as you try to push the clouds away from over her head. 
Hands rubbing the middle of Sana’s smooth back in attempts to comfort her through this time, she regains composure, straightening up while you are wiping the additional tears, a small giggle leaves her lips as she grabs her suitcases and waits for you to open the door for her like you always did. 
“Why was your heart beating so fast? I could feel your pulse in your neck.” chuckling out of puzzlement as you both step out the front door into the warmth of the bright summer sun, immediately throwing her sunglasses on to hide her eyes from the rays and the public. 
“Uh…I’m…angry.” telling a half truth as you try to keep your composure knowing she was watching your body language fly through a few different emotions before settling on calm.
She always knew when you weren’t being honest. Your tells were easy for her to pick up on, even if she never expressed that. The way your eyes would veer away from her, always to the floor, pupils constricting with worry of her finding out the truth. What if Sana already knew what you thought you had tactfully hid from her?
The thought sends a slight chill down your spine, bones cracking as you put your luggage into the car while she climbs into her passenger seat. Seat always adjusted to Sana perfectly, she would grill you if it was ever adjusted to anyone else, no matter who it was. 
Turning the car on and looking over at her, sitting with her feet on the dashboard scrolling through her phone looking for the perfect song. Bluetooth was set up to attach to Sana’s phone first because she loved to play DJ and who were you to deny her any happiness, you wanted to give her any reason to smile even if it was as simple as controlling the music.
The flight went by quickly, thankfully. Only an hour and 15 minutes of a clenched back and trying to remember how to breathe properly, you weren’t fond of flying. Sana held your hand and checked in with you multiple times through the short flight, she couldn’t stand to see you so anxious in your own skin, but it did bring her great joy to know you’d be willing to face your fears for her. A true testament to how much you loved her and who you were as a person.
A 2 bedroom villa by the beach was your home for the next week. It was about as big as a 2 bedroom apartment, still fancy and spacious but with a modern twist. Crown moldings, vaulted ceilings, every amenity you could ever imagine in place. 
There was a small metal spiral staircase to the side of the living room, curious about what it was, you pointed it out to Sana.
“What's this lead to?” questioning the warped metal twisting into the ceiling.
“Go find out!” Motioning her hand up the stairs, your head tilts in curiosity, smacking your lips and then running full speed up the stairs as Sana laughs from below, finally following you when she hears you gasp loudly. 
Tongue pinched between her teeth and smile wide as ever, climbing up the stairs to see your face. You are gobsmacked, hands over your mouth and eyes wide with wonder as you’re taking in the loft with a huge skylight with a conversation pit underneath it. 
“I know one of our favorite things to do together is stargazing so when I saw this, I thought it would be perfect for our week long adventure!” eagerly shouted as she threw herself around you, pressing her chest against your back and resting her chin on your shoulder. 
“This is perfect!” placing your hands over hers on your stomach and leaning into her warmth, and knowing you’d be spending the majority of your nights suspended under the stars with Sana talking about life and enjoying each other's company. 
“Alright, let’s go! We have plans!” suddenly heading for the exit, lightly pulling on your arm trying to get you back down the stairs to get ready. 
“Plans?! Where are we going?” Quizzically as you trample down the stairs, Sana pulling you the entire way.
“It’s a surprise! Did you pack that one outfit I told you to?” as she pulls her suitcases into one of the rooms to get settled.
“Yes…should I put i-”
“Yes. Put it on and give me 30 minutes.” Closing the door quickly behind her, giving no time for arguments or rebuttals. 
Glancing at the clock, the time reading 6:33pm, you pull out the outfit requested by Sana and lay it flat on the bed. A bright red crop top, paired with black slacks, and a black blazer. It was a little dressier than what you would normally wear but it was her break up vacation and if she enjoyed you in this outfit, she’d get you in this outfit. 
Steam rises to the ceiling as you sing to yourself in the shower, washing the travel off of you to get a little more comfortable. You wonder how Sana is doing. It’s only been about 10 minutes since you parted but knowing she was going through a tough time, you couldn’t help but worry a little as she seemed very cheery since you arrived on the island. 
Recalling the first time you and her went stargazing together, it was a cool night in October when she called you unexpectedly. Missing her family immensely, reaching out to you for some comfort. 
Water rushing down your back as you live in the memory of Sana coming over to your apartment with that gloomy look living in her eyes. Dragging her to the patio and telling her to get into the hammock you had set up for yourself a few days prior, for this exact reason. 
Laying closely together, holding her as you asked her questions about her family, what they did for a living, about the special memories she had with them from her childhood. By the end of it she was smiling and giggling recalling them with you.
Silence fell between you as you both relaxed and looked up at the sky when you suddenly pointed up at the shimmering night, singling out a radiant sparkle in the blackness of the sky.
“That’s Venus…do you see those 3 stars in a row? That’s Orion’s belt!” enthusiastically talking about the stars and planets in the sky that you could see. She always loved listening to you speak so passionately about things you loved. 
That was the first night you almost kissed, sober, for the first time. Sana had gotten up to use the bathroom and fell back into the hammock face first, always so clumsy, and was merely a half an inch from your face. 
Feeling the heat of her breath on your skin burnt you as the moment tensed, bones stiffening in the face of your best friend. Pull like magnets in your chests as you inched closer before she forced herself away from you, throwing her hands over her mouth, muttering an apology and basically running inside.
Leaving you to remember the way your chest fell into itself and the ache of wanting to feel her lips on yours. That’s the only time you were almost able to do what no one ever could, get Sana to make the first move. 
Always against it with everyone else, she doesn’t chase. If you want her, show her otherwise you’ll get locked into the friend zone, never to be seen in a romantic light again. A familiar sadness creeped into your stomach. Not chasing her was hard for you, but you were so paranoid about ruining the friendship that you just couldn’t bring yourself to play the game.
A sigh relieves some of the compression in your chest as you dry your hair, hoping this would be the night that you finally got over yourself enough to tell her how you felt about her. It was intimidating to think about, considering you still had a week on this island with her and what if it isn't reciprocated?
Slipping into the outfit laid out on the bed, adjusting it accordingly and stepping into the living room noting that Sana wasn’t out of her room yet, of course. Late to everything, as always.
Placing yourself on the couch and peering at the clock, 6:59pm, patiently waiting for her to emerge and deciding to get a little more comfortable, you laid down and scrolled through your phone, eyes getting heavier as the minutes passed until you finally dozed off. 
The door opens lightly and Sana steps out in a long black sleeveless dress, cinched at the waist to show off her figure and a slit all the way up to her upper thigh. Hair tied up in a sophisticated bun and make-up flawless, finally ready to go. 
Hands placed on her hips, shifting her weight to one leg when she sees you asleep on the couch, letting out an eye roll and a small giggle that stirs you awake. 
“Good morning, sleepy head!” shouted at you in a volume you weren’t anticipating. Eyes widening as you take in your surroundings and re-calibrate from the deep sleep you found yourself in moments prior.
Eyes shifting over Sana, your breath is pulled from your body. Blood running blue as all hints of oxygen drained from your lungs, sucked into a vortex of pure bliss as you felt the weight of the love you had for the human in front of you, who was effervescently shining brightly in front of you. 
“Sana,” sleepily escapes your lip, awe breaking through the grogginess of your voice, “You look stunning…wow.” If she was drenched in diamonds the delicacy that was her elegance would refract the same amount of light, glowing with the embodiment of pure love that she willingly gave to those who she felt were worthy.  
Staring without care and mouth hanging open, you couldn’t help but gawk at her. A moth to a flame, eyes glued to her figure. Absolutely trapped in your skin as your body temperature rises, flushing your skin a lovely shade of pink. 
“I could say the same to you…” looking you up and down before batting her eyes at you. Watching you stand, completely engrossed as you stretch again, bones rattling under the stiffness of the slumber you found on the couch. 
Neither of you can take your eyes off each other when heading for the door. The closeness causes a slight tension between the two of you, fingers tingling from nervousness at the close proximity, breathing becomes a little more difficult. 
This was going to be a long night.
Arriving at your reservation at the local fancy restaurant, you were unable to focus on anything but Sana. Following every refined movement, from sitting in the chair you pulled out for her, to looking at the menu. You were in the clouds, heart eyes evident, completely oblivious to what was happening around you. 
“Do you know what you’re going to order?” questioned without removing her eyes from the wine menu, tabbing through the selections and settling on the sweetest bottle of rosé she could find. 
“Uh…nope, actually. I was distracted.” dropping your head in shame as you quickly find the entrees, picking the ribeye and closing the menu quickly. Eyes back to Sana but she’s already peering at you making eye contact that blinds you, forcing you to look away from her and noticing the emptiness of the restaurant.
The waiter approaches the table and introduces himself, letting you know what the house specials were before asking about what drinks you were interested in for the evening. This prompts Sana to order the wine she was looking at on the menu. 
“We will take this bottle, please” Sana says pointing at the page, hearing the drag of her finger on the thick paper as she underlines the name with her nail. 
“Oh, before you go, why is it so empty in here? During the summer I would assume it would be busier.” Politely asking, I guess she noticed too. 
“It’s the stormy season so most people wait until right before fall to visit.” smiling and leaning to get the bottle of wine for the two of you. 
“…storms?” whispered from the woman made of living porcelain, showing a crack that misted fear onto her perfect complexion. 
The waiter comes back over, shows both of you the bottle before slicing the foil and uncorking it, pouring Sana a little for a taste test. She swirls the glass lightly and takes a sip before letting out a satisfied hum. The waiter takes the go ahead and fills her glass, doing the same for you moments later and leaving quickly. 
“Thanks for agreeing to come with me on this trip, I’m feeling much better already.” An energy emitting off of her that was abnormal. Was Sana being shy? Sana? Shy? How bizarre. 
“You know I’d do anything to make you feel better.” confidently said back in a tone that was a little flirtier than normal. Allowing the boldness to flow before you could stop yourself. Sighing as if you are ashamed, your arms swing to cover your chest and legs crossed trying to escape the awkwardness.
Sana notices and smirks, “I know you would. I'd do the same for you. I think that’s why our friendship has been so great!” raising her glass to you before she sips it lightly, you do the same back, offering it as a cheer but it was really a muffled cry. 
The smile she lets out as she finishes her sentence was an insult to the injury. The word friend branding your chest and the smile the salt rubbed mercilessly into the wound, stinging a little more than normal tonight considering the way she was looking at you earlier.
Growing somber as the night continues on, throughout the meal and through the ride home you barely said anything, not that Sana minded. Your company was enough but it was weighing on her that you were seemingly bothered by something she couldn’t see. 
“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? You seem off since dinner…” worried as she swipes the card to open your hotel door, launching it forward to let you in first. 
“Yeah, I’m okay. I think I’m just tired is all.” a melancholic response from you as you head into your room and close the door lightly behind you before she could ask you anything else. 
Sana stands in the living room by herself in silence, saddened by something she didn’t really understand. Holding her own hands as she gazes down at the floor biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she had the guts to follow you. 
Rain splashing on the windows lightly and a small rumble in the distance, winds howling pushing and pulling the building as it creaks under the force, reminding her of what the waiter said at the restaurant. Stormy season.
“Great.” rolling her eyes at the idea of being in an unfamiliar place and having to deal with the sound of thunder and the flashes of lightning. A fear she’s had since she was a child, alive and well in her 20s that you usually helped her through, but you were upset and she wanted to give you space if you needed it. 
“If y/n can face her fear of flying, then I can face this.” Hastily going into her room, changing into something more comfortable and curling up in the bed, scrolling on her phone as the storm rolled in, tapping on the window a sign of the loud clashes that were going to sing through the sky as anytime now. 
Closing the door behind you lightly and plopping onto the bed, you run your hands over your face roughly and deeply inhale, followed by an exhale of equal size as you try to shake off the feeling of dread. 
“Friendship” the word locked between your ears, spiraling and echoing through your memories of all the times you thought there was something between you and Sana. 
Sadness wells up in your throat, choking on the indirect rejection slushing through your brain as the rain falls outside. Thunder rolling in the distance, Sana was going to text you when it got bad you already knew. 
Sighing heavily as you stripped off her favorite outfit of yours, throwing it carelessly out of your sights. Reaching for a pair of cozy black sweatpants and a black wife pleaser tank top. 
Not even bothering to remove the comforter off the sheets, you lay face first into the pillow and sigh heavily trying to release the build up of grief you had been carrying for some time, without alerting Sana. 
Dizzy in a sense, hopelessness washed over you when your phone vibrated about 45 minutes later with a text from Sana. 
Satang<3: are you awake? 
Satang<3: this thunder is kinda scary…
A playful grin lay across your face and you start typing but a knock interrupts the attempt.
 Adrenaline flushes your system as you stand and pull the door open, revealing Sana, wearing an oversized t-shirt that covered whatever bottoms she could have on. Anxiety brewed within her about the commotion outside, jumping closer to you as the thunder clapped loudly against itself. 
“Can I stay with you tonight?” breathed to you through chattering teeth, eyes wide and pouty as she tried to convince you, not that you needed it. 
Visibly shaken up, she takes a big step forward towards you. Your arms immediately open for her out of habit. Half holding, half guiding her to the right side of the bed and allowing her to crawl in between the silky sheets first. 
Taking your place next to her, you click the TV on and find a channel with a random sitcom on to drown out the noise of the clattering outside, hoping Sana could focus on something other than the storm. 
“Maybe we could go to the beach tomorrow?” said unexpectedly through the sound of the laugh track playing loudly, covering the static of the 
“But you hate the beach.” in awe at what you were suggesting to her.
“But you love the beach.” retorted sarcastically with a grin.
Beaming at you as she playfully smacks your arm, leaving her hand carefully placed on your bicep, a form of physical touch, her love language. She squeezed it tightly as the thunder rolled, creeping closer with every minute. 
Her eyes are recklessly running around the room as the lightning illuminates the sky, droplets pounding on the roof in intense waves as the storm thrashes into the night, leaving you to care for your favorite person. 
 You left your arm up and over her shoulder, pulling her closer to you. She is quick to koala herself around you with her head on your chest, listening to your racing heart, and half smiling as she falls asleep in the safety of your warmth.
Waking up to the sound of Sana’s sleep heavy breaths was something you always looked forward to when you found yourself sharing a bed. She was so at peace and calm, it was hard to ignore how exquisitely perfect she was. 
Laying with her face in your neck, her closed eyes softened as her brows furrowed in her sleep, small squeaks leaving her lips, followed by a groan muffled by you, sent your body into system overload. What could she possibly be dreaming about that would cause such a sound to leave her perfectly pink lips? 
Her hand slides up your torso gently, her breath hitching as her fingertips smooth over your ribs, bone by bone. Heartbeat visible in your chest as she rolls onto her back and audibly moans your name.
The way it rolls off her tongue makes you instantly insatiable, clenching your thighs together tightly for some form of relief and trying not to assume what she was dreaming about. The way her hips were rocking was enough for you to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, not assuming but knowing that she was having a wet dream about you.
Sneakily stepping out of the bed and turning to see her lazily thrusting her hips in her sleep and continuing to whimper sparked something in you that was indescribable. Unable to shift your eyes away from Sana as she continued on, wonder if this was a common occurrence for her.
Stepping into the bathroom to try and remember how to breathe, you hold yourself up on the sink and turn the cold water on, splashing it in your face a few times to bring you back down to earth. Was she really thinking about you that way? Was it just a one time thing? It’s not like you could just ask her, that would be weird. 
“Y/n?” breaks your train of thought causing you to freeze instantaneously. Statued by the sink, wondering if she remembers what she was just moaning over. You were sure to never forget it. 
“I’m in the bathroom…I’ll be out in a second.”
Hearing her stretch from the other room, you quickly change into your bathing suit, a simple black 2 piece, and walk back into the bedroom.
Sana was still half asleep until she saw you in that swimsuit in front of her, you had been working out and it was showing. Abs toned, arms on the more muscular side; she silently swooned seeing you in this light. 
  “Do you still want to go to the beach today?” sitting on the bed next to her trying to address her directly but she won’t look you in the eyes. 
“Yeah, I guess. Let me change.” calmly leaving her mouth as she gets up and walks out of the room silently and completely shutting you out of whatever she was feeling. 
Now perplexed at what was happening, you stare at the door she just left through in complete disbelief. She was always so cheery in the morning and to see her not shining, caused a little bit of worry in you. 
Following her out into the living room, only for her to shut the door behind her. A sigh ringing through the air after the door closes, you try to brush it off by going to put together your beach bag. Silently gathering towels for the two of you, bringing a few water bottles and snacks and wishfully hoping you’d be able to help her get out of her head today. 
The calmness of the waves washes over the shore, creating a relaxing white noise as you and Sana lay in the lounge chairs, enjoying the stillness of the environment and being able to relax in peace.
Margaritas were the drink of choice today, it was 11am and you were already on your third one. Sana just kept ordering them for the both of you and you were on vacation. Who’s to say you can’t let a little lose and get a little drunk with your best friend?
Sana’s demeanor was still off, but she had more of a bounce in her step after an hour or two. The margaritas slowly revived her affectionate personality that she hid away that morning. 
Back to smacking your arm playfully and smiling back at you with everything you said when she suddenly stands and runs right to the ocean, waves putting up a weak fight pulling her in as she turns around and eggs you on in joining her.
“Come on! The water’s not that cold!” Yelled at you from feet away as you made your way to her. She was a liar, the water was freezing cold on your legs as you scooched closer to her in the water finally making it to the waist deep water Sana was at. 
“So c-cold!” escapes your lips as you try to get used to the frigid waters coating your body when a splash causes a loud gasp to leave your mouth followed by a small giggle from Sana. 
Gawking at her while she laughs at your reaction, you jump over to her and grab her by the waist, playfully wrestling with her in the water. Being sure to handle her with care as you tangle, she drapes her arms around your neck, clinging to you tightly. Her legs soon follow, wrapping themselves around your torso so she’s flush against you, slyly smirking centimeters from your face. 
“Awh, have I made you upset?” oozing seductively from her lips as she slides her arms down your back to toy with the knot holding your top to your chest. 
“You wouldn’t.” challenging the threat she was intimidating you with, drunkenly. 
“Oh but I would.” squinting her eyes at you while she tugged lightly allowing the knot to loosen slightly.
Unmoving as you let her pull the strings, her face so close you can see the mischievous glint in her eyes and smirk elongating as she leans into you further, connecting your lips as one of her hands shimmies up to the back of your neck, continuing to lay soft sweet kisses on your face, making her way to your neck for a light bite. Attempting to repress all the noises your lungs wish to release as your legs clench together. 
“You like this, don’t you? I bet you’ve thought about this before, hm?” whispered into your ear as she felt you tensing underneath her. Teeth tug on your lobes lightly as the question burns in your ears like a form of torture, snapping you back to the reality you were in. 
Sana was drunk, heartbroken, and leaning into you for validation…that’s the only way this could actually be happening right?
“Sana...we can’t do this.” hesitantly stated as she cups your face lovingly, you can’t help but rest your head there affectionately. 
“But…why not?” woefully questioned as she rests her chin on your shoulder, re-tying the knot to secure the top covering you, immediately respecting what you were saying and not crossing the boundary. 
“Because we’ve both had too much to drink and I don’t want it to happen thi-…” unaware of a larger wave coming to crash down on you mid sentence, completely drenching both of you from head to toe. 
Chuckling out of surprise, you look over to find the scowl Sana seared into her visage. Her eyes are bright red, breath stuttering as she sniffles.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” scanning the visible parts of her body for any hint as to why she would be so upset.
“I’m fine, y/n. A lot of salt water in my eyes and I'm just ready to go.” getting out of the water and making her way over to where you had set yourselves up for the morning. 
“You want to leave so quickly?” completely confused by her as she gathered everything silently. Making the choice to let her stew in whatever she was feeling, unsure of how to proceed with this but wanting to improve the sudden change in mood, wrapping yourself in your towel and following her back to the hotel. 
It was barely 1pm by the time you got back to the room, surprised that she only wanted to spend a few hours in the sun. Asking her multiple times if she was okay on the way back but she only gave one worded replies that didn’t give you any context to why she was turning within herself and away from you.
Setting all her stuff down by the door before walking straight into her room, not closing the door behind her, taking that as an invitation, you followed her like a lost puppy to the threshold. Sana turns around and halfway glares at you as she starts to try to untie the knot at the base of her neck.
“Can I help you, Y/n?” with a tone that harshly fragmented your heart. Never having spoken to you this way, you were taken aback completely, wondering if the alcohol had something to do with the overwhelming sense of unwelcomeness that creeped into the space, darkening the overall mood and instigating fight, flight or freeze within you.
“Oh…” mournfully uttered as you stepped out of the room that was clouded by whatever seeped from Sana’s consciousness, what could you have done to generate such an irritated response from her? Swiftly marching to the room you both spent the night in, footsteps can be heard swiftly trying to catch up to you.
“Y/n, wait!” as you close and lock the door behind you.
Immediately stripping out of the swimsuit when you heard the door rattle slightly, as the person on the other side of it rested their forehead against it. Hearing the sniffles produced from Sana as you force yourself to not offer comfort to the woman who had just snapped at you for a reason you weren’t aware of. 
The clock reads 9:53pm as you lay in the conversation pit under the skylight. Last night might’ve been stormy but tonight was perfect for stargazing and that’s exactly what you planned to do, with or without your best friend.
Laying by yourself and staring straight into the sky, admiring the randomness that was the star's patterns, connecting dots as you see the constellations play out in front of you. God, this sucks alone. Missing Sana at every passing moment.
Was she just drunk earlier or were her actions real? Sana had always flirted with you in her intoxicated states but it had never felt as intense as the moment in the water today. Remembering the taste of her sweet lips in the salty air, you craved them constantly, but was it romantic or was it just a drunken moment she was having? 
She did just go through a breakup and the alcohol wasn’t exactly something that made emotions easier to deal with. Maybe she was trying to seek comfort in you, as messed up as that is to say. Maybe she knew you cared for her romantically and she wanted to push the limits and see how much you really wanted her?
The rattling of the metal staircase pulls you out of the toxic trance you were in, not bothering to look up as you picked a star to fixate on instead of looking at Sana who was standing in the doorway.
“May I come in?” a delicate smile can be heard in her words as she asked where your boundary was. That was more like her. Instead of a verbal response, you simply patted the cushioning next to you without looking at her, summoning her over to you. 
Gracefully sauntering over and laying down next to you, she let out a long sigh almost relaxing into the atmosphere as she looked over at your face. You could feel her eyes burning a hole into your cheeks but refused to look away from the skylight. 
Her hand finds its way to your stomach as she lays on her side, snuggling you with her head on your shoulder. Your heart picks up again, even with not wanting to have the conversation that needed to be had, she still made you feel like pure bliss. 
“I’m sorry I snapped at you…I just thought-” cutting herself off, swallowing nervously as she starts to quietly weep into your neck.
Shutting your eyes tightly, you try to hold in the emotions that seemed to be brimming out of both of you rapidly. Your fingers lightly trace her back as her quiet sobs drip from your skin.
“Sana, it’s okay. We weren’t sober, I know you didn-” 
“I just thought you felt the same way.” slicing through the air like a knife, chopping your sentence in half. 
Heart pulsing in your ears as you grow red, feeling your heart pumping forcefully as you try to wrap your mind around what she just uttered. You’re completely immobile as you remember all the small moments that could be seen as romantic. Candle lit dinners, the days spent on the couch, the physical touch that was constant between the two of you…has she always liked you this way? Or were you misunderstanding what she was saying?
“What do you mean by that, Sana?” carefully asking the question that charred the tip of your tongue, leaving the build up of fiery love inside of you, knowing this would alter the state of your friendship forever and possibly change the trajectory of your life. 
Sitting up promptly, to ensure you can hear and see her completely, pulling you up with her.
“Y/n” a sigh breaks the sentence as she braces for what’s to come “…I love you.” 
Patiently waiting for the realization of what she’s saying to roll over your face, she continues. 
“I tried dating other people to get over you because I was worried that if I told you, you wouldn’t feel the same way and it would come between us or that it would end badly. And everyone I dated was nothing compared to you, and just made me want to be with you more…you treat me so well that it puts everyone else to shame,” looking down at the floor and toying with a string sticking out of the cushions that covered the floor. 
“And when we were at the beach, I saw the way you looked at me and the alcohol encouraged me to make a move, and you know I never do that but…I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I swear. I misread the signs I thought you were giving me and -sniff-” continuing on to try to over explain her actions but you were in a complete state of euphoria.
Floating on cloud nine as Sana makes her plea for you to stick around, you reach out around her waist and hoist her into your lap, one leg on either side of your waist. 
Hand raising up to cup her surprised face as you lean into her without a second thought, lips passionately connecting as you show her what you always wanted to say out loud. 
Passionately tangled in a heated make out session, you remove her shirt quickly and trail light kisses down her exposed neck to her collarbone, her hand clenching your hair as she whimpers softly under your curious touch. 
“Y/n, I need you” breathed into your mouth as you effortlessly shift positions so you are on top of her, removing your shirt hastily not wanting the fabric to be between the touch of you and her velour skin. 
Grasping at your pants, trying to remove them quickly she nervously fidgets with the button and you let her panic for a second, enjoying the neediness radiating from her brow, as her half lidded eyes fill with frustration. 
Giggling as you look down at her, she halfway glares at you with a smile. Playfulness of your friendship seeps into the moment and you both welcome it in a moment of unseriousness. 
Reaching down and undoing the button of your pants and hers quickly while smirking at her boldly, she rolls her eyes at the move and unzips your pants, sliding her outstretched hand into your underwear and through your wetness. 
“I can’t wait to taste you” sultry tone ringing in your ears as you allow yourself to succumb to Sana in a way you only dreamed about. 
Reaching up behind you to unclip your bra sneakily before she rolled you over so you were on your back, fingers still circling your clit through the movement, causing a few slight gasps and light moans out of you. 
She removes her hand and discards your pants and panties to leave you completely naked. Squirming underneath her as you watch her remove the rest of her clothing, anticipation high as she kisses down your neck leaving small bites and a trail of marks down your chest. 
Taking her time descending your body and learning every place her touch will drive you mad, she hovers over your pussy and smiles up at you. 
“You know once we do this…there’s no going back, right?” waiting for permission from you to continue on. Even with how eager she was, she wanted to make sure that you knew this was an act of you committing to each other.
“Sana, please…” breathed into the night as your hands covered your face, the want palpable in the air as you tried to scoot closer to her mouth.
“Please what?” tracing her fingers between your hip bones and down your hips to your inner thighs.
The whine you release is guttural,  full of the desire that’s been burning for her for what felt like centuries. Moving your hands from your face, through her hair gripping it heavily as you moan the words she’s been waiting to hear. 
“Sana, please fuck me, I need you.” sighing heavily as she kisses your inner thigh while you beg for her to touch you.
“Good girl” mumbled into your thigh as she parts your lips and finally tastes your slick. Leaving nothing for imagination as she explores your folds. 
Her hands reach up to play with your hardened buds as she devours you. Latching onto your clit and circling it lightly with her tongue, moaning into your core as she sucks. 
Writhing underneath her while she feasts on your desire, directing her head where you want it by her hair as you groan her name senselessly. 
Bliss dripping off you, as you fixate on what she looks like between your legs. The eye contact has you spiraling into a void of pure lust as you start to buck your hips into her mouth, slowly grinding against her lips. 
Feeling her smile into you as finger dancing on the edge of your entrance, seeking permission to fill you the way you always dreamed she would. Not allowing her to thrust into you, but instead you force your hips down into to fuck yourself on her fingers while you still have enough thoughts in your head to do so.
Half laughing at you while you continue to buck your hips into her, moaning uncontrollably as you feel your stomach tighten. 
“You must have been dreaming of this for years…I never knew you wanted this so badly, baby. I’ll show you how it’s supposed to feel” taunting you between the damp sounds coming from your core.
Curling her fingers through your wetness to hit your g-spot perfectly as she lets you control the pace and tempo at which her fingers press it, mouth not letting go of your clit as you fuck yourself against her. 
“I’m -fuck right there- gonna cum.” shakily exhaled between grunts as groans as she starts to pump her fingers inside of you, hips faltering as she does, relentlessly sucking and swirling her tongue on your swollen pussy as you gush into her mouth, screaming her name. 
A light sheen of sweat coating your skin as she lets you ride out your orgasm on her fingers before pulling them out of you slowly, leaving you gasping for more. Making eye contact with you as she licks her digits clean, smiling in almost a predatory way as she comes up to kiss you passionately. 
Tasting yourself on her caused your hips to start rutting against her again, grinding on the memory of her between your legs as you try to maneuver your hands between hers when she swats it away. 
“I’ve waited too long for this, for you…and I’m not finished, my love.” sinking her teeth into your neck roughly before finding herself back where she was about to force another orgasm out of you. 
This was going to be a long night, only hoping for more passionate nights under the stars with your love, Minatozaki Sana.
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moondirti · 3 months
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i accidentally deleted the ask i received yesterday (like an idiot) so im dumping the rant i left underneath it for archival reasons
what i love most about big ugly brute simon is pairing him with girls who get a little too close. perhaps they catch him staring in public and smile politely, a little daunted but attributing what they can to innocent intent over malice. who treat him with basic decency, or perhaps extend a little extra kindness if they take the dead look in his eyes to be consequence of a rough day. the one's who hold doors open for him, or let him skip in line because he looks like he can really do with the coffee. the maybe he's just misunderstood, never judge a book by it's cover, treat others the way you want to be treated type.
kind, polite, genuinely good girls, who live life by the please and thank you handbook they were given in kindergarten, and were never taught when to keep it to themselves. well-meaning always, yet either foolish or curious when they give a beast the benefit of the doubt.
because while their courtesy is just that in the eyes of conventional society, it has an absolutely foul effect on one simon riley.
say it's because hardly anyone is ever keen on him. certainly not pretty birds, with pretty wrists, and pretty hair and clothes and easily corruptible smiles. at the first sign of warmth, he'll pounce. all animal, blinded hunger. cruel passion he knows you're not built to take, your heart pulpy like saccharine fruit. cruel passion that he will inflict anyway; trailing behind you all the way home, choreographing meetings, pushing your courtesy to its limits by being nothing but a rude brute. he bullies his way into your life, making a man-sized hole where he was uninvited (though he'll contest that. what does a smile mean if not lay over me and print yourself on my womb?). bullies you into submission, weaponising that tenderness to suit his real needs–
not coffee, or a good morning, or anything but a warm cunt and meal to come home to.
i don't think he'd ever ease up the intensity, either. even if you acquiesce or are flattered by the distasteful attention. though simon might soften up to you (in the only way he can: lending his ear while you talk about his day, or walking blocks in the rain to fetch takeout from that specific greek place you've been craving), he's still mean about it. presses you where you're weak, isolates you from your friends. hones derision when you continue to be just as amicable to everyone else. you must be asking for it, see, if you had been asking for it with him. is a big dick about it, callous and nasty as he can be – because you allow him to be, babbling tearful apologies into his chest instead of standing up for yourself.
doesn't believe any of it, of course. he knows you're too sweet for your own good. but he can't help but love seeing you get all desperate when you cry. makes his knees go weak. his head itch. you'll hold on to his arm – soft and wet and repentant, pure silk against his gnarled edges (a point people will always latch onto. how'd he land that? right minger he is) – until he growls something about making it up to him.
which you jump at. good, good, generous girl. will seat yourself, fine china between thighs that could crush you, and choke on his ruddy cock. maybe he holds you down on it, stuffs your nose onto the untamed mess of his pubes until your little legs kick for breath. or, maybe he'll lead you to down to fit your tongue in his ass, tugging himself over you until cum mats your hair. whatever the most vile, debased thing he can conceptualise at the moment is fair game. not necessarily because of the deed itself, but because he lives for nothing more than watching you do it despite not wanting to. to please him :(
sorry im a little crazy about this
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drunkenlionwrites · 1 year
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Bodyguard!Toji x rich girl!reader
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This guy does something to me 🥵 I'll be the sugar mama for this freeloader any time no questions asked. Based on the ask: 'bodyguard toji makes me so feral!!' Warnings: afab! reader, mentions of ptsd, depression, panic attacks, reader's unhealthy attachment, mentions of smut, toji is his own warning
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You’ve hired a stay-in bodyguard Toji among few other men after the kidnapping attempt of you, minister’s daughter was successful and you’ve felt restless and plagued with ptsd, cooped in your apartment constantly watching over security cameras footage.
Bodyguard Toji that had a reputation of notoriously callous man, often behaving rudely and having violent outburst which affected the image of rich/famous people who have hired him previously.
Bodyguard Toji, who despite that was a professional, expert marksman and specialist in close combat. A walking intimidating mountain of muscle.
Bodyguard Toji, who threw off his suit vest, tie, and cufflinks once he received the uniform and never wore anything like that, sticking out like a sore thumb among other bodyguards of yours. His most formal look being a sweatshirt and dress pants.
Bodyguard Toji, who never hesitated to call his job “babysitting” in front of you. Nevertheless, always being on guard and diligently doing what he was paid to do.
Bodyguard Toji, who remained your sole bodyguard, who proved in time that he was enough. He was too much sometimes.
Bodyguard Toji, whose phone number you refused to give to all your acquaintances who’ve been inquiring about him.
Bodyguard Toji, who surprisingly turned out to be pretty intelligent and smart man and a great conversationalist, despite his attitude and crude language.
Bodyguard Toji, who intimidated/beat up people who’ve been to handsy with you in bathroom stalls when you went out clubbing.
Bodyguard Toji, who took you out for late night drives, brought you to shady pachinko parlors, underground clubs, cheap fast-food places to “show the spoiled brat the real world”.
Bodyguard Toji, who found the paparazzi who took a photo of your coochie when you’ve been getting out the car and broke his camera and both legs.
Bodyguard Toji, who loved to fuck you against a huge window of your penthouse apartment, looking down the city view and mocking you for spreading your legs for your good-for-nothing bodyguard instead of some rich Ivy league boy or businessman.
Bodyguard Toji, who knew your mind and body like no one else. Making you come with only a few precise thrusts of his cock paired with few praises and slurs.
Bodyguard Toji, without whom you cannot picture living your life anymore, your anchor, your protector and companion.
Bodyguard Toji, who’s helping you cope with panic attacks and anxiety better than any psychiatrist, therapist, or pills.
Bodyguard Toji, who notices your unhealthy attachment to him, but does nothing about it, relishing the feeling of power he has over you + all the benefits he has of working for you.
Bodyguard Toji, who smugly smirks at your father whenever he frustratingly remarks that “the savage brute” is still working for you.
Bodyguard Toji, who fucks you silly, tucks you in bed but never stays to sleep with you, despite your desperate pleads. “It’s not a part of his contract” he says and leaves to his part of your apartment after wishing you goodnight.
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inu-sunset · 5 months
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if somebody requires that i communicate to them in A Certain Way, how am i supposed mindread my way into knowing that. unless they explicitly say, “hey, i need you to communicate with me like This because otherwise we might end up on different pages,” i’m probably going to default to whatever method of communication has caused the least amount of strife in my experience. i’m DEFINITELY not going to pick up on a need for communication style-change if the style in question is one i was explicitly raised to believe is rude, callous, disrespectful, inconsiderate, and aggressive. like how am i supposed to know. how can i know what a need is if the need was never communicated in the first place?
(by the way? this applies to both laios and toshiro. how was toshiro supposed to know laios needed direct communication. how was laios supposed to know toshiro’s responses carried context beyond the words themselves. “then say that!!!” applies to BOTH of them)
anyways the laios/toshiro slap-off wasn’t a “good guy/bad guy” “victim/bully” “uwu autistic/evil allistic” showdown. it was a nuanced exploration of how two flawed, compassionate, warm-hearted people might inadvertently hurt each other due to differences in culture, communication style, and communication need. it was two guys firmly planted in their own siloed cultural norms, with differences in their respective communication weak points (laios/receptive, toshiro/expressive), trying to bridge that gap and failing and hurting each other in the process. neither of them are cruel for cruelty’s sake - they’re just humans, making mistakes and navigating the consequences
(this post sponsored by the ethnocentric no-nuance takes some folks have been tossing out. free yourselves from white western christian “good vs evil” false dichotomies. enjoy the nuanced flavors that come with seasoning a dish with more than just salt and pepper)
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bloodmoonmuses · 7 months
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stray cats, cold spaghetti | mark lee
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genre: mark lee x reader, meet cute, friends to lovers (this is unedited, so forgive any typos! happy valentine's day!)
warnings: mentions of food!
summary: your cat introduces you to your new friend, mark. he's a bit more similar to an actual cat than you initially realized.
You didn’t understand the attachment people had to their pets until this stupid cat showed up. She was a stray, with mangled fur and callous eyes, who popped up some months ago. You had checked for any postings about missing pets, and even asked a few of your neighbors, but no one claimed the ratty thing. It’s not that you disliked animals entirely- you’re not a sociopath. You just aired more on the side of nonchalance. 
The cat could sense this, ever since the first time you two crossed paths. You remember that night so vividly. You couldn’t sleep. You laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, hoping slumber would whisk you away sooner than later. Just as your eyes began to flutter shut, you heard whining. Visceral, pained whining. At first, you tried to ignore it, but when you heard a sound that suspiciously sounded like a young child, you figured it’d be better to survey the situation just in case. When you opened your door to a begging cat, you sighed. Damn the neighbors for feeding this thing. Now she thinks she owns the place. 
“I bet you’re hungry, huh.” The cat bore into you with bright green eyes, tilting its head as if to say, “Duh!”
So you re-entered your home, Googled “What human food can cats eat?”, and came back with canned tuna and half a carrot. The brat looked right past the carrot and inhaled the tuna, this being its first real meal of the day. In between scarfing down food, the gray cat looked at you inquisitively. “Any more where that came from?” her eyes said. She sidled up next to your leg, purring and rubbing her head against it. 
“That’s all I got,” you had confessed. 
You named her June, since that’s the month she came into your life. Now, you’re best friends. June is actually pretty chill. She likes watching movies with you and, strangely, likes going on walks. After getting her groomed, she’s kinda cute too. You hated to admit it, but you love June. You imagine this is how people felt about their kids- without the initial reluctance of course. June comes and goes as she pleases as if she’s still a stray, but always comes back by dinner time. 
When June isn’t back at her usual time one day in October, you get a bit nervous. She never does this. Before breaking out into a full out panic, you remember she’s got a collar and a tracker from the vet now. No biggie. Opening the app that’s connected to June’s tracker, you meander down the path you usually walk with her when it’s warmer out. When you’re a few blocks from your place, you see her, relief flooding your system. Then you realize there’s a man petting her.
“Junie! June!” You run up to her, taking her into your arms. You snuggle her into a tight embrace, planting a kiss on her head. You’re so caught up in your reunion with June that you forget about the stranger standing in front of you. Oh yeah. You should probably say something. His hair is somewhere in between auburn and brown, making his face look incredibly warm. You hold June a bit tighter.
“Cute cat,” the stranger says. His voice is a bit hoarse. “Thought she was a stray before I saw the collar.” Um, okay? June’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s clearly cared for. 
“Yeah, she’s mine. Do you, like, follow strays around in your free time?” you ask with a bite to your tone. 
“Do you let your pet wander around like a stray in your free time?” Fair, you think, but still rude.
“She’s a free spirit,” you contest. 
“So you let her wander.” 
“This is the first time she hasn’t come home for dinner. Our relationship is built mostly on my ability to provide her food- which works for me.” You’re not sure why you’re explaining your relationship with your cat. Who cares what this guy thinks?
June jumps out of your arms, back to the ground, and walks up to the stranger’s legs. He bends down to resume petting her. From his crouched stance, he looks into your eyes. The eye contact makes you shiver.  
“She’s sweet,” he says. “What’s her name?” 
“June. She’s a charmer- and incredibly manipulative. She probably thought she could swindle you out of some food.”
“Do I look easy to take advantage of?” He asks.
You assess him. Oversized hoodie, baggy pants, sneakers covered in scuffs... Maybe he’s a dancer. Or skateboards. You’d be into that, you think. Skater boys weren’t really your thing, but they could be- as long as it’s him. If anything, the guy just looks… cozy, all bundled up like this. There’s a tinge of red on the tip of his nose from the nippy air. He’s smirking to himself at his (flirtatious) question, making his cheek look plump. You want to pinch it. 
You want to make him as warm as his eyes make you feel. 
You realize you’ve probably been staring. Geez, what was his question? Oh yeah. “Yeah. Like a pushover,” you say. “In the best way, of course.”
“Ouch.”
“Only a real sap would fall victim to June’s powers. She can sense lackeys. No offense.” 
“I’m gonna choose to believe that means you think I’m a nice guy.”
“Nice enough.”
“I’ll take it.” The two of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments, June having finally grown bored of her new friend. The guy stands from his crouching position and sways a bit as he awaits your next move.
“Well, like I said, this little lady was late for dinner. So if it’s okay with you,” you pick up June, then continue your thought, “We’ll be heading out.” 
As you turn to walk back home, the stranger says, “I… didn’t catch your name, by the way.” 
Right. You introduced June, but not yourself. Go figure. “Oh. I’m ___.” 
“Cool. I’m Mark.” He looks like a ‘Mark’-boyish and chipper.
“Nice to meet you, Mark. Well, have a nice night.” You start to walk again, but Mark interjects yet again.
“The sun’s setting,” he blurts it out like he’s trying to rid his mouth of the words as quickly as possible. “Can I walk you home?” Then he amends, “I live nearby, so I know it gets kinda dark in this neighborhood. Not many street lights.”
You think about it. You’re not getting any serial killer vibes, plus he’s already passed the June test. (And if you're being honest, he's very cute.) “Um, sure. Thanks.”
The two of you walk in silence, save for June’s purring. When you make it to your apartment building, you stop. Your gut is twisting, mind fixating on the warmth radiating off Mark’s body. Your fingertips are whirring with electricity. You have a bad idea. 
“Would you maybe… wanna come in for dinner?” Mark turns to look at you.  “I never really learned how to cook for one person, so I always have a bunch of leftovers.” 
It’s a lie, but not entirely. You like to cook enough food for the entire week. Mark doesn't need to know this, you conclude.
Mark nods to himself. “Uh, sure. I could eat.”
As soon as you place June down in your apartment, she sprints to her food bowl. Silly girl. 
“Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company,” you say. “I hope you like spaghetti.”
“Love it,” Mark responds. (You’d later find out this was a lie.)
“Perfect.”
That’s how you and Mark became friends- similarly to how June came into your life. You fed him. In all honesty, he wasn’t that fond of your spaghetti. He just liked the way you smiled each time he took a bite. The two of you continued to get to know one another while making food. Neither of you are great cooks, so you usually team up. It’s become a love language of sorts, sending recipes back and forth to try. You look forward to eating with Mark more than anything these days.
You’re more than aware of your underlying feelings for Mark, but you’ve managed to temper them. You don’t want to scare him off, but the tension is relentless. You’re making tiramisu and your shoulders touch. You’re piping flowers on a cupcake while Mark pulls tendrils of hair away from your face. You’re whisking meringue into stiff peaks while Mark hums to June in the living room. It’s heart achingly domestic. 
Oftentimes you imagine Mark as your husband. In your daydreams the two of you are wearing matching aprons, flour dusting his nose. He kisses you, a fit of giggles attacking your system. You’re absolutely smitten and unabashedly so.
 In reality, today is Valentine’s Day. Mark suggests he comes over and makes pizza. You don’t think Mark realizes what day it is until you suggest making your pizzas heart shaped. He says he forgot to buy his friend Jaehyun a birthday gift.
“This is, like, kinda romantic.” If being covered in pizza sauce and flour is romantic, then yes. This was very romantic. You have a nice spread here-  fresh basil, mozzarella, alfredo sauce, vodka sauce, roma tomatoes… It smells so nice. Mark keeps sneaking chunks of cheese into his mouth. He looks like a little mouse. June is fast asleep on the couch. You’ve finally perfected the heart shape of your dough, and begin to spread alfredo sauce on your pizza. 
“Your parameters for romance are very strange, Mark Lee.”
“If you close your eyes, it’s like we’re in Italy.” When he says things like this, they only fuel your daydreams. You blame the flush of your face on the preheating oven.
“Venice, I hope.”
“Of course.”
Mark’s pizza looks more like an anatomical heart than the kind you’d doodle in a notebook. He scoffs when you tell him this, feigning offense.
“Should I remind you of how your cinnamon rolls came out a few weeks ago?” They were awful. At a certain point, you had given up and rolled them into balls. 
“My cinnamon rolls/balls were innovative and transcendent.” 
“I don’t even know how you messed them up,” Mark says as he puts the pizzas in the oven, “We bought pre-made dough.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
When the pizzas are done baking, the two of you sit at the dinner table. It’s a different feel for the two of you, seeing as you usually eat together on the couch.  You take a bite of your pizza, savoring the taste.
“Not bad. Wanna taste?” Mark nods. Instinctively, the two of you swap plates, trying each others’ creations.
“I think you’re better at making savory foods.”
“I agree.”
You and Mark continue to eat your pizzas, taking gulps of your respective drinks in between bites. Beer for Mark, white wine for you. Jazz plays softly from your shitty phone speaker, and June’s snores fill in the gaps of silence. After a bit, Mark’s face goes red from the alcohol. You liked seeing him tipsy. He gets all wavy and fluid, unconsciously swaying side to side like a daisy in the wind. Your face feels fuzzy from the wine and you find yourself biting your tongue. 
You’ve had to be more conscious of your alcohol intake around Mark lately. It felt as if at any moment, your love for him would simply become unbearable. Recently, it’s been hard to just look at him- even while sober. Tonight, apparently, you threw caution to the wind. 
“Mark?” you say.
“Hmm….”  He’s drifting away, lethargic from the food and beer. You repeat his name again, this time getting his full attention. When his glassy eyes meet yours, the force behind them knocks the wind out of you.
“Yes?” says Mark. He takes another sip of beer. 
You can’t do this, you think, backtracking entirely. The lie escapes as a garbled mess of words: “Forgot what I was gonna say.” You take a nervous gulp of your wine.
Mark slams his fist on the table, in a drunken stupor. The sound startles you, but there’s no malice behind his motion. In fact, he’s laughing to himself. “Bullshit.”
“I really did lose my train of thought. Maybe it’ll come back to me.”
“I know you’re lying. Like you lied about that cold ass spaghetti you used to lure me in!” he says, referencing the night you met. The spaghetti wasn’t that cold…
“I really did make too much spaghetti that night! Plus, you kept June safe. It was the least I could do!” 
Mark begins to gather your plates and cups, walking over to the kitchen to place them in the sink. As he stands, he says, “I won’t force you to say it, but I know you’re lying.” 
Then he moves to run the faucet. The rushing water fills the silence like TV static, buzzing and itching in your ears. Your throat is burning. You want to talk to him openly, honestly- but something’s stopping you. Mark washes the dishes wordlessly. With his back turned to you, his words hang heavy in the air. Mark never pries but simultaneously knows you so intimately. You love being known by him. You love knowing him. 
You simply love him.
“Why’d you walk me home that night?” Your voice barely pierces the air. The question practically squeaks out of you.
“What?” Mark turns off the facet and dries his hands on a towel, turning to look at you.
“The night we met. Why’d you walk me home?”
He contemplates the question for a moment, closing his eyes to visualize the night. Then he says, “Wanted to make sure you got home safely.” 
The moment is delicate and fragile. You’re scared that if not nimble enough, if not cradled with the utmost gentleness, it will shatter. You proceed with caution.
“Mark?” At the sound of his name, Mark returns to his seat at the dining table.
“I think… I love you.” Mark chuckles. “Don’t laugh!”
“You think?” he says, now breaking out into a full-bodied laugh.
“Yeah. I think so.” 
“I love you too.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “...I think.”
“Very funny, asshole.” 
Mark reaches over the table and places a chaste kiss upon your lips. “Okay, I think I’m a little more sure now,” he says.
“Need some more reassurance?” you ask. Mark nods. 
You lean in to kiss him this time, and just before your lips touch, you hear whining. You pull back to look down, seeing June curled up beneath your chair. Her timing is always impeccable. The two of you giggle, sealing the moment with a fervent kiss. You melt into his touch, the elation coursing through your veins. When you come up for air, you meet Mark’s eyes.  
“What?” he says. “I’m a better kisser than you thought?” 
“I was just wondering… you’re still gonna wash the dishes, right?”
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