reveusism

[reveusism]

NELL NEW THEME I FREAK WITH HEAVY!!!! :3

SCOUT!!!!!!!!¡ ^•^ THANK YOU!!!!!

[reveusism]

Lalalalala frolics across the field before i stop by your account Omg Hi Nell

LINA!!!! holy smokes this gave me whiplash HIIIIIIII ^•^

[reveusism]

hi i just ate up ur aki works. i cant get enough

first thing I saw after being released from the imprisonment of classes and this made my day >o< THANK YOU!! ugh you get it. works for him don’t get much attention but I write them for my own thirsty self and the ones like you mhm mhm 🙂‍↕️

[reveusism]

cw nsfw. pathetic aki.

aki has always found immense shame in the notion of touching himself.

of course, that does not mean he goes completely dry. it’s just something he prefers not to do, especially with the constant hassle of chaos surrounding him—with that comes both slim time to do it and the heightened chance of being caught. he only found himself desperate and alone in the dead of night, face warm with embarrassment despite the lack of eyes on him and breathy pants falling from his lips as he shut his eyes and pretended he wasn’t so pathetic.

still, it was always in complete solace. as it should be. contained, restrained; all that aki was as a person.

but tonight was different. and it was all because of you. he was barely at fault—any man with eyes and a groin was sure to be affected in the same way. he may be stoic and reserved and lacking the outward show of most mortal desire, but at the end of the day he is only a man. only a man that has to restrain himself from taking you in the break room on any normal day when you are covered head to toe in uniform, let alone how you looked now.

he found himself shut in his car, awareness of the window tint being far too little for a real safety present but not prominent. the blanket of night and the slight buzz in his mind was enough for now. a quick smoke break, he’d claimed. just a moment to breathe—alone. truthfully, he had taken the first opportunity to scramble out of there the moment he found his eyes lingering on you too long and his pants growing tight.

images flashed through his mind. the collective group of Public Safety workers out for drinks. your dress, short and sleek, just bordering on the line of promiscuous. he closed his eyes and imagined what it would look like pooled on his bedroom floor. that, combined with the action of him pressing the heel of his palm into the aching hardness between his legs, had his lips parting and a groan tumbling from them before he could restrain himself.

this is dirty. he knew it. he knew that he was vulnerable to be seen by the many eyes circling the building, his car tucked away in the corner of the parking lot but not entirely concealed. but he just couldn’t help himself. what else was he supposed to do, go back in there knowing he was fucking throbbing in his pants for the rest of the night? no, definitely not. this was the better thing to do—get it over with. in the haze of his arousal, he almost convinced himself.

(a part of him almost liked the idea of you finding out. seeing—feeling—his need for you. a part of him wanted to be called dirty, to have his carefully crafted composure shattered in the eyes of the one he let it crumble for. he pushed the thought away before it got far; even now, finishing too fast would hurt his pride.)

his belt came undone with an echoing clink, hips canting up into his hand the moment he tugged his clothes down just enough to find relief. he spit into his palm, bringing it down to his cock and smearing the precum that had spilled from the tip around the head before giving himself a few, almost experimental pumps. a sound aki was not even entirely aware he was capable of making rose from his throat as he pretended it was your hand instead of his.

aki was observant. this was always a positive trait, but at the moment, he was more grateful for it than ever. he thought back to the many things he had noticed about you that others may not have. the curl of your fingers around the handle of the pitcher as you poured yourself a drink. the way your lips wrapped around the rim of the glass, shining with the liquid when you pulled away. the way the straps of your dress shrugged down your shoulders ever so slightly the more inebriated you became. your makeup, carefully applied. he wanted to see it run. he wanted to *ruin* you.

but for now, he was the wrecked one—whimpering and bucking into his own hand in the plush seat of his own car. it was ironic, really. pathetic. dirty. everything that aki was not. and he hated how much he enjoyed it.

[reveusism]

cw nsfw. pathetic aki.

aki has always found immense shame in the notion of touching himself.

of course, that does not mean he goes completely dry. it’s just something he prefers not to do, especially with the constant hassle of chaos surrounding him—with that comes both slim time to do it and the heightened chance of being caught. he only found himself desperate and alone in the dead of night, face warm with embarrassment despite the lack of eyes on him and breathy pants falling from his lips as he shut his eyes and pretended he wasn’t so pathetic.

still, it was always in complete solace. as it should be. contained, restrained; all that aki was as a person.

but tonight was different. and it was all because of you. he was barely at fault—any man with eyes and a groin was sure to be affected in the same way. he may be stoic and reserved and lacking the outward show of most mortal desire, but at the end of the day he is only a man. only a man that has to restrain himself from taking you in the break room on any normal day when you are covered head to toe in uniform, let alone how you looked now.

he found himself shut in his car, awareness of the window tint being far too little for a real safety present but not prominent. the blanket of night and the slight buzz in his mind was enough for now. a quick smoke break, he’d claimed. just a moment to breathe—alone. truthfully, he had taken the first opportunity to scramble out of there the moment he found his eyes lingering on you too long and his pants growing tight.

images flashed through his mind. the collective group of Public Safety workers out for drinks. your dress, short and sleek, just bordering on the line of promiscuous. he closed his eyes and imagined what it would look like pooled on his bedroom floor. that, combined with the action of him pressing the heel of his palm into the aching hardness between his legs, had his lips parting and a groan tumbling from them before he could restrain himself.

this is dirty. he knew it. he knew that he was vulnerable to be seen by the many eyes circling the building, his car tucked away in the corner of the parking lot but not entirely concealed. but he just couldn’t help himself. what else was he supposed to do, go back in there knowing he was fucking throbbing in his pants for the rest of the night? no, definitely not. this was the better thing to do—get it over with. in the haze of his arousal, he almost convinced himself.

(a part of him almost liked the idea of you finding out. seeing—feeling—his need for you. a part of him wanted to be called dirty, to have his carefully crafted composure shattered in the eyes of the one he let it crumble for. he pushed the thought away before it got far; even now, finishing too fast would hurt his pride.)

his belt came undone with an echoing clink, hips canting up into his hand the moment he tugged his clothes down just enough to find relief. he spit into his palm, bringing it down to his cock and smearing the precum that had spilled from the tip around the head before giving himself a few, almost experimental pumps. a sound aki was not even entirely aware he was capable of making rose from his throat as he pretended it was your hand instead of his.

aki was observant. this was always a positive trait, but at the moment, he was more grateful for it than ever. he thought back to the many things he had noticed about you that others may not have. the curl of your fingers around the handle of the pitcher as you poured yourself a drink. the way your lips wrapped around the rim of the glass, shining with the liquid when you pulled away. the way the straps of your dress shrugged down your shoulders ever so slightly the more inebriated you became. your makeup, carefully applied. he wanted to see it run. he wanted to *ruin* you.

but for now, he was the wrecked one—whimpering and bucking into his own hand in the plush seat of his own car. it was ironic, really. pathetic. dirty. everything that aki was not. and he hated how much he enjoyed it.

[reveusism]

cw nsfw. nerdmin!!!!!!!. wet dreams oops. tongue piercing armin

armin had dreams quite often. now, this was not a surprising thing; dreams are caused by the information stored in the depths of one’s mind, and it is well known that armin had a lot of that. it’s rare that he has a night completely dreamless, whether he be plagued by riddles concealed in a story or being chased down a corridor or something humiliating that leaves his face red for the rest of the morning.

recebtly, his subject had been you.

they would change. positions, places, you name it. sometimes he would be between your legs, putting the cool metal ball atop his tongue to work and feeling proud of his reckless decision for once. other times, you would be on your knees, taking care of him and cooing softly with every broken plea that left his lips. he’d take you from behind, in front—make you realize he was more than he seemed. he was useful. he could make you feel good. it was every sick fantasy he had pushed down and suppressed from the moment he first saw you coming back to haunt him in his sleep. occasionally, he would just be lying with you in the aftermath and the bliss of what you had just done. but that one was much more heavy than the rest, so he avoided confronting the meaning.

tonight was no different. he saw you, messy and disheveled and as beautiful as he always thought you were. bare, panting, whispering his name so softly he was sure it was a figment of his imagination (but this all was, so what did it matter?). he ran his hand over every plane and curve he was too shy to touch when he was conscious. his face was in your neck, nose pressing against your pulse as he desperately tried to convince himself this was real, I if only for a moment. you smelled sweet. he had to resist the urge to sink his teeth into you and mark that he was there.

you were with him, wanting him. his head was spinning and his throat raw from the pathetic whimpers bubbling from his throat. he remembers feeling so close, dick twitching desperately with every noise and move you made, but he tried to prolong it. he knew that he would wake the moment he let go and be reminded that this was fake, that he was sweating and panting and hard alone in his own dark room. he was desperate. he had long since accepted that he was nothing if not a loser, at least a bit, but even this had him shrinking on himself in shame.

your voice. it was beautiful, and even more so when broken and saying his name. “armin, ah, i’m-“

he awoke with a gasp. he blinked for a moment, chest heaving, head pounding as was the pulse between his legs. it only took a moment for him to process—he had grown more and more used to these occurrences. even with his less-than-great vision, he could make out the shape of his stiffness as well as the wet patch forming on his pyjama pants.

he was definitely not going to be able to look you in the eyes tomorrow, if not the rest of the week. he was pathetic, and he wanted you so badly. but he would not act on those desires, instead dealing with graphic dreams and radiosilence on the days after. it was not preferable, but he would survive.

his head fell back against the pillow, dragging a hand down his face. “shit.”

[reveusism]

cw nsfw. nerdmin!!!!!!!. wet dreams oops. tongue piercing armin

armin had dreams quite often. now, this was not a surprising thing; dreams are caused by the information stored in the depths of one’s mind, and it is well known that armin had a lot of that. it’s rare that he has a night completely dreamless, whether he be plagued by riddles concealed in a story or being chased down a corridor or something humiliating that leaves his face red for the rest of the morning.

recebtly, his subject had been you.

they would change. positions, places, you name it. sometimes he would be between your legs, putting the cool metal ball atop his tongue to work and feeling proud of his reckless decision for once. other times, you would be on your knees, taking care of him and cooing softly with every broken plea that left his lips. he’d take you from behind, in front—make you realize he was more than he seemed. he was useful. he could make you feel good. it was every sick fantasy he had pushed down and suppressed from the moment he first saw you coming back to haunt him in his sleep. occasionally, he would just be lying with you in the aftermath and the bliss of what you had just done. but that one was much more heavy than the rest, so he avoided confronting the meaning.

tonight was no different. he saw you, messy and disheveled and as beautiful as he always thought you were. bare, panting, whispering his name so softly he was sure it was a figment of his imagination (but this all was, so what did it matter?). he ran his hand over every plane and curve he was too shy to touch when he was conscious. his face was in your neck, nose pressing against your pulse as he desperately tried to convince himself this was real, I if only for a moment. you smelled sweet. he had to resist the urge to sink his teeth into you and mark that he was there.

you were with him, wanting him. his head was spinning and his throat raw from the pathetic whimpers bubbling from his throat. he remembers feeling so close, dick twitching desperately with every noise and move you made, but he tried to prolong it. he knew that he would wake the moment he let go and be reminded that this was fake, that he was sweating and panting and hard alone in his own dark room. he was desperate. he had long since accepted that he was nothing if not a loser, at least a bit, but even this had him shrinking on himself in shame.

your voice. it was beautiful, and even more so when broken and saying his name. “armin, ah, i’m-“

he awoke with a gasp. he blinked for a moment, chest heaving, head pounding as was the pulse between his legs. it only took a moment for him to process—he had grown more and more used to these occurrences. even with his less-than-great vision, he could make out the shape of his stiffness as well as the wet patch forming on his pyjama pants.

he was definitely not going to be able to look you in the eyes tomorrow, if not the rest of the week. he was pathetic, and he wanted you so badly. but he would not act on those desires, instead dealing with graphic dreams and radiosilence on the days after. it was not preferable, but he would survive.

his head fell back against the pillow, dragging a hand down his face. “shit.”

[reveusism]

nell are you permanently on ovulation day

can a girl not be a gooner anymore without being attacked ಠ_ಠ

[reveusism]

cw nsfw. nerdmin!!!!!!!. wet dreams oops. tongue piercing armin

armin had dreams quite often. now, this was not a surprising thing; dreams are caused by the information stored in the depths of one’s mind, and it is well known that armin had a lot of that. it’s rare that he has a night completely dreamless, whether he be plagued by riddles concealed in a story or being chased down a corridor or something humiliating that leaves his face red for the rest of the morning.

recebtly, his subject had been you.

they would change. positions, places, you name it. sometimes he would be between your legs, putting the cool metal ball atop his tongue to work and feeling proud of his reckless decision for once. other times, you would be on your knees, taking care of him and cooing softly with every broken plea that left his lips. he’d take you from behind, in front—make you realize he was more than he seemed. he was useful. he could make you feel good. it was every sick fantasy he had pushed down and suppressed from the moment he first saw you coming back to haunt him in his sleep. occasionally, he would just be lying with you in the aftermath and the bliss of what you had just done. but that one was much more heavy than the rest, so he avoided confronting the meaning.

tonight was no different. he saw you, messy and disheveled and as beautiful as he always thought you were. bare, panting, whispering his name so softly he was sure it was a figment of his imagination (but this all was, so what did it matter?). he ran his hand over every plane and curve he was too shy to touch when he was conscious. his face was in your neck, nose pressing against your pulse as he desperately tried to convince himself this was real, I if only for a moment. you smelled sweet. he had to resist the urge to sink his teeth into you and mark that he was there.

you were with him, wanting him. his head was spinning and his throat raw from the pathetic whimpers bubbling from his throat. he remembers feeling so close, dick twitching desperately with every noise and move you made, but he tried to prolong it. he knew that he would wake the moment he let go and be reminded that this was fake, that he was sweating and panting and hard alone in his own dark room. he was desperate. he had long since accepted that he was nothing if not a loser, at least a bit, but even this had him shrinking on himself in shame.

your voice. it was beautiful, and even more so when broken and saying his name. “armin, ah, i’m-“

he awoke with a gasp. he blinked for a moment, chest heaving, head pounding as was the pulse between his legs. it only took a moment for him to process—he had grown more and more used to these occurrences. even with his less-than-great vision, he could make out the shape of his stiffness as well as the wet patch forming on his pyjama pants.

he was definitely not going to be able to look you in the eyes tomorrow, if not the rest of the week. he was pathetic, and he wanted you so badly. but he would not act on those desires, instead dealing with graphic dreams and radiosilence on the days after. it was not preferable, but he would survive.

his head fell back against the pillow, dragging a hand down his face. “shit.”

[reveusism]

did anyone see the aki smut I accidentally posted last night or am I safe

[reveusism]

Ur so good at writing smut Im excited for u to write more Kuroo…. 👀❤️

you will make me smile in the middle of a lecture… anon stop ittt… >o< i’m happy to hear that; I haven’t written anything freak nasty in a few years but the demons got me this time

[reveusism]

warning suggestive. multi character; list at the bottom

“it’s almost like you want the whole building to hear you.”

his voice was low and smooth as he spoke, eyes barely flicking up to meet yours and place a subtle emphasis on his words. they were darkened, pupils widening and enveloping his irises in inky black as they raked over your form.

he had parted your thighs, knees pressing into the bed as he settled between them. the both of you were still entirely clothed save for your shirt, pushed up just enough to reveal the smooth expanse of skin on your abdomen. despite the layers of fabric separating you, every shudder and shift was so prominent to the both of you that you couldn’t even tell who it had come from. his palm smoothed out over your skin, the other pressing around the dip of your knee and keeping you welcoming him with open arms legs.

he had not even touched you—not properly—and yet you felt fucking wrecked. your chest was rising and falling in presto, mouth falling open as you whined on about how pathetically you needed him. “I just- please, y’keep teasing me- I-“ a pant.

now, what he did next was not entirely in his control. it was not his fault. he would usually not be so bold in his actions, even in moments such as this. but his mind was hazy with the barely concealed need he felt, entirely detached from his motor system. perhaps it was instinct, the way his eyes zeroed in on your lips that were parted so invitingly, and the way two of his digits reached up to dip between them. his fingers prodded past the plush opening to your mouth before pressing down on your tongue, muffling any keens or protests you were even considering saying next.

a muffled whine erupted from your throat, eyes widening to saucer shapes. your lashes fluttered as you blinked at him, almost as if you were perplexed by the thought that he could silence you so simply; nothing but a push of the finger. the pads of his index and middle were soft against the muscle they resided on—gentle and yet entirely effective. a shuddering breath left him at the way you fell silent. the submission made something in his mind cry out in glory (and something in his pants strain further than it already was).

“yeah,” he rasped. “you don’t listen, suppose you forget i’ve been choosing to give you a choice.”

you let out something that was supposed to be a whimper. he had to hide the curl of his lips by leaning in and letting his breath fan out over your face, too close for you to assess what he did not want you to see, for you to notice the power you really had over him despite the way he held reign over you.

“so you’re gonna do what I tell you, got it? be good and you can get a word or two in.”

♡ hayakawa aki geto suguru sukuna ryomen levi ackerman (season four) eren jaeger dabi (todoroki touya) bakugou katsuki chrollo lucilfer kaiser michael itoshi sae iwaizumi hajime matsukawa issei tsukishima kei ♡

[reveusism]

bring back dry humping 2025 movementPlease

we are bringing it back we can do this everyone start chanting \(^0^)/

[reveusism]

cw nsfw. kuroo is a loser nerd. dry humping…..

“we…” kuroo tetsurou could barely utter a sentence, breathing coming out laboured and heavy, usually carefully constructed composure shattered into bits at your feet. “we should be studying.”

his words were an unsteady attempt to be harsh—to uphold the act of dominance and self control that he so desperately wished ran deeper. but with every ghost of your breath over his face, it seemed to be blown away like dust, scattering in the winds and leaving him bare. his fingers dug into the chub of your hips, crumpling the fabric of your skirt as you rested on his lap, thighs pressing around his hips and making him feel even closer to suffocation than he already was. he could barely get air into his lungs, each inhale only bringing more of you in him and making his head spin.

“you’d rather study than be with me?” you asked, lower lip jotting out in a pout. another slow, torturous drag of your hips over his had him gasping (and you fighting desperately to pretend you weren’t feeling the exact same way).

“I never—fuck—never said that. I-“ he drew in a hiss, face heating up as he buckled up into your touch. your head spun, and it was taking every bit of will within you to not fall apart into his arms right there.

you snaked a hand up his chest, finding the ridge of his chin and tipping his face up to meet your gaze. his eyes, although reluctantly, drew away from where your bodies almost met, hazel dark and glazed over as he panted. something tugged at your lips, an invisible force that was immensely satisfied by how absolutely wrecked he looked for you. “what’s got you so flustered, tetsu?” you asked. “i’ve barely done anything.”

a flush of pink crawled up his neck, the tips of his ears turning flushed. his lips, red and glossy from the way he’d been gnawing on them, parted. “stop it,” he rasped. it was laced with a desperation that contradicted his plea, as well as the way he was so taut with desire beneath you. that’s what he was now. beneath you. yours to handle, yours to mold like molasses and bend to your will. absolutely pliant.

“don’t lie. you like this, don’t you?”

a small, guttural sound rose from his throat before he could stop it. “that’s the issue, baby.” he pressed harder into you. “you know I do.”

you leaned closer, lips ghosting over his. he could basically hear the smirk in your voice when you spoke, but he could not bring himself to care—he was too far gone; pupils dilated, hair tousled from the grip of your wanting hands.

you huffed. “that’s what makes this so much fun.”

you were right. and fuck, he hated how much he enjoyed it.

[reveusism]

can we all imagine adding aki in that multi character drabble wasn’t ooc thank you ^.^

[reveusism]

warning suggestive. multi character; list at the bottom

“it’s almost like you want the whole building to hear you.”

his voice was low and smooth as he spoke, eyes barely flicking up to meet yours and place a subtle emphasis on his words. they were darkened, pupils widening and enveloping his irises in inky black as they raked over your form.

he had parted your thighs, knees pressing into the bed as he settled between them. the both of you were still entirely clothed save for your shirt, pushed up just enough to reveal the smooth expanse of skin on your abdomen. despite the layers of fabric separating you, every shudder and shift was so prominent to the both of you that you couldn’t even tell who it had come from. his palm smoothed out over your skin, the other pressing around the dip of your knee and keeping you welcoming him with open arms legs.

he had not even touched you—not properly—and yet you felt fucking wrecked. your chest was rising and falling in presto, mouth falling open as you whined on about how pathetically you needed him. “I just- please, y’keep teasing me- I-“ a pant.

now, what he did next was not entirely in his control. it was not his fault. he would usually not be so bold in his actions, even in moments such as this. but his mind was hazy with the barely concealed need he felt, entirely detached from his motor system. perhaps it was instinct, the way his eyes zeroed in on your lips that were parted so invitingly, and the way two of his digits reached up to dip between them. his fingers prodded past the plush opening to your mouth before pressing down on your tongue, muffling any keens or protests you were even considering saying next.

a muffled whine erupted from your throat, eyes widening to saucer shapes. your lashes fluttered as you blinked at him, almost as if you were perplexed by the thought that he could silence you so simply; nothing but a push of the finger. the pads of his index and middle were soft against the muscle they resided on—gentle and yet entirely effective. a shuddering breath left him at the way you fell silent. the submission made something in his mind cry out in glory (and something in his pants strain further than it already was).

“yeah,” he rasped. “you don’t listen, suppose you forget i’ve been choosing to give you a choice.”

you let out something that was supposed to be a whimper. he had to hide the curl of his lips by leaning in and letting his breath fan out over your face, too close for you to assess what he did not want you to see, for you to notice the power you really had over him despite the way he held reign over you.

“so you’re gonna do what I tell you, got it? be good and you can get a word or two in.”

♡ hayakawa aki geto suguru sukuna ryomen levi ackerman (season four) eren jaeger dabi (todoroki touya) bakugou katsuki chrollo lucilfer kaiser michael itoshi sae iwaizumi hajime matsukawa issei tsukishima kei ♡

[reveusism]

cw nsfw. kuroo is a loser nerd. dry humping…..

“we…” kuroo tetsurou could barely utter a sentence, breathing coming out laboured and heavy, usually carefully constructed composure shattered into bits at your feet. “we should be studying.”

his words were an unsteady attempt to be harsh—to uphold the act of dominance and self control that he so desperately wished ran deeper. but with every ghost of your breath over his face, it seemed to be blown away like dust, scattering in the winds and leaving him bare. his fingers dug into the chub of your hips, crumpling the fabric of your skirt as you rested on his lap, thighs pressing around his hips and making him feel even closer to suffocation than he already was. he could barely get air into his lungs, each inhale only bringing more of you in him and making his head spin.

“you’d rather study than be with me?” you asked, lower lip jotting out in a pout. another slow, torturous drag of your hips over his had him gasping (and you fighting desperately to pretend you weren’t feeling the exact same way).

“I never—fuck—never said that. I-“ he drew in a hiss, face heating up as he buckled up into your touch. your head spun, and it was taking every bit of will within you to not fall apart into his arms right there.

you snaked a hand up his chest, finding the ridge of his chin and tipping his face up to meet your gaze. his eyes, although reluctantly, drew away from where your bodies almost met, hazel dark and glazed over as he panted. something tugged at your lips, an invisible force that was immensely satisfied by how absolutely wrecked he looked for you. “what’s got you so flustered, tetsu?” you asked. “i’ve barely done anything.”

a flush of pink crawled up his neck, the tips of his ears turning flushed. his lips, red and glossy from the way he’d been gnawing on them, parted. “stop it,” he rasped. it was laced with a desperation that contradicted his plea, as well as the way he was so taut with desire beneath you. that’s what he was now. beneath you. yours to handle, yours to mold like molasses and bend to your will. absolutely pliant.

“don’t lie. you like this, don’t you?”

a small, guttural sound rose from his throat before he could stop it. “that’s the issue, baby.” he pressed harder into you. “you know I do.”

you leaned closer, lips ghosting over his. he could basically hear the smirk in your voice when you spoke, but he could not bring himself to care—he was too far gone; pupils dilated, hair tousled from the grip of your wanting hands.

you huffed. “that’s what makes this so much fun.”

you were right. and fuck, he hated how much he enjoyed it.