#I might need to speed through stuff later

[caramelmochacrow]

in my he/they swag before I see people reenact the birth of jesus ✌ (my family does not know I am a boy)

[oikasugayama]

YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG

NSFW, for adults ONLY, MDNI or I'll block you. No idea how many parts this will be. Let me know which BSD men you want to see ;)

pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Fyodor

Walking in on him touching himself is REALLY surprising because he doesn't seem the type to masturbate, in your mind. You straight up couldn't imagine him touching himself until the very second you walked into his office and saw his bottoms around his ankles, his top hiked up around his chest, and his hand furiously pumping over his pale dick.

His head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth lazily hanging open. You've never seen so much skin on him before. He's PALE pale which makes the brightness of his mouth and tongue and the tip of his cock seem so much brighter.

"oh love, yes, yesss" he moans, and your whole body flushes red with embarrassment and arousal at the same time. You shouldn't be seeing this but you're having a hell of a time turning away from him. You need to leave the room. You need to go. You need to turn around.

"y/n," he purrs, tilting his head and opening his eyes half-way, looking so fucked out and erotic. "do you like what you see?"

You can't formulate an answer, you're standing in the doorway short circuiting, trying to make words but only noises come out

"since you're standing there I thought you might be interested," he says as slow and calm as ever. Even jerking himself off his voice doesn't hitch or raise or speed up and it's honestly really hot right now. "Care to join me?"

"i-i, um... I'm really s-sorry, f...fyodor."

He moans softly biting his lip while still staring straight at you.

"say it again," he purrs. "say my name."

"fyodor..."

"again," he moans, hand working faster.

"Fyodor."

you walk in and close the door behind you.

Poe

You two scheduled a hang-out at his place but despite how many times you knocked on the door, he wouldn't answer...so you try the doorknob, and hey, it's unlocked! You've been to his place many times, you don't mind letting yourself in and don't suspect he'll mind either.

After you put your stuff down and take off your shoes, you register a quiet noise coming from a different room. you sneak closer and realize two things: it's crying, and it's coming from poe's bedroom

you open the door and rush in without thinking. "poe! what's wrong, why are you-- OH FUCK"

you rushed right into him kneeling at the edge of his bed, bouncing on a dildo and not crying, whimpering, moaning.

he calls your name and you can't tell if he meant to moan it but he absolutely moans it and he sounds like a wreck and he looks pathetic and fucked out, and you feel it when he says your name.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been this, I'm gonna go home--" you say, turning and rushing out of his room. he calls your name after you, multiple times, moaning and moaning and moaning--

you sink down against his front door, still slightly able to hear the sounds of him moaning and whining from his room. you're so horny now, absolutely drenched through your panties/rock hard in your pants. You know you should leave, you know you shouldn't still be here, but he never told you to go, he just kept saying your name...

a few minutes later, after the noises have subsided and the apartment has gotten deadly quiet, his bedroom door creaks open and he slowly peeks his head out. he must be crawling still because he's near the floor.

"[y/n]," he sighs, "I didn't want you to find out like this."

it takes you a second to collect yourself, but you manage to ask "find what out?"

"that i... i think about you... a lot..."

Chuuya

you're on a PM mission with chuuya and several other PM members. you've got to share a room with chuuya, but at least you have separate beds. it's fine. it's whatever. until.

until you wake up one morning--the clock on the bedside table saying it's only 6:23 a.m.--to the sound of a rhythmic slapping, some occasional huffs, a-- a moan?

you sit upright in bed quickly, your head turning toward chuuya's bed.

"are you fucking serious?"

"what" he huffs, and through the tiny bit of daylight creeping through the curtains you can see movement beneath his sheets.

"are you jerking off right now? dude we're sharing a fucking room."

"you were asleep," he says defensively. "not like you noticed yesterday."

"dude!!!"

"get over it, it's fuckin' natural," he says and his voice is getting tight and higher almost like he's biting back a moan or getting close to cumming.

"it's disrespectful when you have someone in the same room, chuuya," you say softer, subconsciously still trying to hear the sounds he's making. you're embarrassed at how intrigued you are

"i'm not stopping you," he says. "you can jerk it too for all i care."

"to what... to you jerking it?"

you can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says "I never said anything about that, so you thought that up all on your own. is that what you're into, pet?"

[bimbobaggins69]

dreams about my dealer…

dealer e.m. x fem reader

blurb request: 💌Hey Tori! Hope your day is going lovely 😊 As a request for the vday celebration, could I pls get a blurb where the reader is nerdy and loves reading old cheesy romance novels like these? And one night she falls asleep after reading and she fantasizes about her dealer Eddie as this suave romance hero who sweeps her off her feet and gets her all hot and bothered. And so after that night she starts buying books covers where the men resemble him and he catches on during one of their smoke seshs. You decide how it ends 😉😉 by: @honey-flustered

authors note: This is such a fun request, thank you for sending it in lovely. Hope you enjoy <3 if anyone wants a part two of just smut pls lmk cause I’d love to, but ya know I’m trying to blurb here.

all of my works are 18+

“there ya go, wrap your arms around me, sweet girl. Just like that.” The familiar voice bellows into your neck.

“I’ve got you now, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your flesh this time, sending shivers down your spine. The long familiar hair tickles at your collar bone as his arms wrap tighter around you. This time causing a very needed friction between you and this mystery man.

“Mmm, go ahead angel, make yourself feel good.” He says again before removing his face from the crook of your neck and revealing himself to you.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You pop up out of bed, removing your sleep mask before you slam your hand down on the obnoxious alarm clock sitting on your side table.

You feel a wetness in your panties when you go to stand up and it’s as if a flash goes off in your mind and you’re taken back to the dream you were just awoken from. Eddie, your drug dealer in nothing but blue jeans, his hair wrapped in a low bun with loose strands that brushed your sensitive skin and his big muscular chest dripping with sweat as he held you against his body protectively.

You look back over towards your bed, eyes glancing over the book you fell asleep reading. You couldn’t deny the man on the cover looked pretty close in comparison to eddie, long hair and the same exact attire as he was wearing in your dream. The man had a smirk on his face that was almost identical to the usual smirk eddie always had when you’d buy your weed from him.

later that day you find yourself across town, at your local library; ready to check out any and every dirty romance novel with a man that in some capacity meets your dealers description. You couldn’t believe the crush that formed from one little dream, you’d been festering on thoughts of eddie all day and you need more ammo for these ongoing fantasies and the very welcomed dreams you might have tonight.

You’re able to find five books in total, and you just knew you were gonna whip through them all in one week. There was a hunger in your center that just needed to be satiated, and if you couldn’t have the real thing, then the next best will do just fine.

The next morning, you speed walk through the halls of Hawkins high, binder held tight to your body as you keep your head down just trying to get to biology in one piece, but you’re running late so your feet move frantically as you go over an excuse to give Mr. Sivertson before you breech his classroom door. As you become deeply lost in your thoughts you collide into another body who was rounding the corner, your binder falls out of your hands and on to the floor as the other persons hands catch you by your waist.

“Where’s the fire, sweetheart?” The all too familiar voice fills your ears and you freeze, eyes now level with an ozzy shirt and his statement leather jacket.

Eddie’s eyes glance down towards your stuff that fell into a messy pile between your feet, your heart hammers when he bends down to grab something. The smirk on his face tells you exactly what he’d found and now you just want to run back to where you came from, get in your car and drive to a whole new town.

“Whatcha got here?” He says through a dopey laugh, as if you’d been caught red handed. That’s exactly what’s happening.

“Didn’t think a church mouse like you would read these kinds of books.” He whispers, although you two are the only ones in the hall.

“I-I’m not a church mouse, and give me my book back.” You huff and snatch your book out of his heavily ringed hand, but your face was far too guilty and you knew that eddie knew exactly why you had these books in your possession.

You eventually side step him, not wanting to hear any of his teasing that you knew he’d readily dish out. Eddie wasn’t a bully per say but he was an asshole, a cocky asshole to be specific.

Once you’re out of biology, you speed walk to your locker. Ready to put this godforsaken book away until the end of the day, when you can read it in bed, cuddled up where no one would make fun of you. But as you open your locker a folded piece of paper falls out and hits the toe of your flat. you shove your binder into a cubbie before bending down to retrieve it.

Meet me behind the football field after school

- EM

Your stomach fills with butterflies as it simultaneously sinks into the depths of your ass.

Why would he want to meet up after school? Was he going to poke fun at you? Have you show his friends your book so they could all laugh at you?

But another part of your brain said:

What if this is it? What if he really wants you? Maybe he’ll kiss you? Maybe you can finally feed this hunger.

That was all you needed to make your split decision.

After school, you grab your book from your locker and make a beeline for the football field. Bypassing quick goodbyes from your friends.

When you finally make it to the tree line, you exhale a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, then you take a few deeper steps into the desolate woods. No one else came back here except for one infamous metalhead, so you knew you wouldn’t be met with any asshole jocks. That settled your stomach a bit, but not fully.

You see the back of Eddie’s head first as he sits on the old warped, wooden bench; hunched over as if in concentration. When you move closer, walking around the rickety table you can now see that he’s breaking up a nug of weed and placing it into a zig zag before rolling it up, snug.

Your eyes meet when he glides his tongue along the lining, he smirks up at you as your eyes gawk at the movements of his pink muscle, licking up and down. You can’t help but to squeeze your thighs together, that burning in your core blazes hot and he hasn’t even touched you.

Your eyes flicker back up into his and you realize that he’s watching you, watch him.

In a moment of faux confidence, you ask—

“What’s with the letter in my locker, Munson? I thought I was the one that was supposed to put the letters in your locker when I want to smoke.” You shoot him a weak smile, making him scoff as he puts the joint behind his ear for safe keeping.

“Are you gonna sit your ass down and smoke this with me or not?” He huffs, pulling a zippo lighter out of his leather jacket pocket and flipping the lid open and closed, open and closed. Is-is that a nervous tick? Is he nervous, too?

You lower yourself onto the seat in front of him, taking on your own nervous tick of picking at your nails.

He takes the joint from behind his ear, his eyes never leaving your form and it has you cowering deeper into yourself. He lights the spliff and inhales deep, holding it in for a second and then letting the smoke bellow out of his nose and mouth. You can’t deny how undeniably sexy he is.

“So, those little slutty novels you have—” He starts

“They’re not slutty! They’re romance novels, Eddie!” You screech in embarrassment, as your cheeks heat up from the deep cackle he makes in your expense.

“Yeah yeah, princess. Tell me, do they fuck in these romance novels?” He throws weak quotation marks up for the last two words, as his eyebrows shoot up under his bangs in question.

“Well, I mean…yeah they do.” You respond with a defeated slump of your shoulders.

“Mhm, just as I suspected. Slutty.” The way he sing-songs ‘slutty’ makes you fall into a fit of giggles, and the noise is music to Eddie’s ears.

“So uh, do you want me to make you feel better than those shitty books ever could?”

[gay-dorito-dust]

How I think Jason shows his love includes…

Annotating/highlighting romantic passages or moments of high tension between two characters in the books he reads before passing them over to you. He’d even have the exact pages marked and when asked why that was, all he says is that they were the key pivotal moments in the story that he thoroughly enjoyed, and all with a cherry red face might I add as he intentionally leaves out the fact that he envisioned that it was the two of you in those moments as he annotated the books.

Will stand close to you for a plethora of reasonings but the main one being the fact that he wanted to be the first one you look towards when in need of anything. Comfort, protection or reassurance. Just say the word and Jason will do it without question like an obedient dog, he just wants to be someone you can hopefully rely on and trust in the future, only if you let him in first.

Jason just wants you to know that no matter what happens he will always be in your corner, uncaring for what the future will have in store for you both, whether it’d be good or bad. He’d willingly stick his neck out for you in any given situation, even if it meant putting himself in the line of fire, a few new scars won’t bother him if they were earned by keeping you safe and sound.

He doesn’t care about himself nearly enough as he cares about you and your well-being. He just doesn’t and it’s not until you were pleading with him to take care of himself, that he ultimately decided that to care for you was to care for himself as well; So for your sake he keeps himself relatively stable.

Not a great mindset but it’s Jason, he’s not exactly a practitioner of affirmations, journaling his feelings or having healthy habits.

Smiles more when he’s with you, even if it’s corny dad jokes or just bad jokes in general, Jason still smiles and might even let out a chuckle now and then.

Spends an unhealthy amount of time with you that it was impossible for you to be seen without Jason following close behind. Also Jason isn’t great with voicing his feelings in wanting to spend time with you, and instead just asks what you’re planning to do later on and whether there’s room for one more and takes it from there. He cuts out the bullshit and gets straight to the point of what he wanted to ask you.

Night rides on his bike.

Now this is mainly a boost for his ego as he loves feeling you clinging onto him for dear life as he speeds down the road with little care for the speed limit. He’s such a prick but will slow down if he see that your visibly distressed with the speed of which he was going, after all he was always going to prioritises your wants and needs above his own.

Teaches you the basic defence and even teaches you in the usage of weapons, and all for the sake of your own protection.

He doesn’t like the idea of you walking through the streets of Gotham amidst criminals and creeps alike without at least some form of defence. Jason doesn’t trust anyone with your safety except if their names happen to be Roy and or Dick. Other then that, Jason likes to be the one protecting you but had to accept that he wouldn’t always be there to do so, which lead him to constantly pester you into taking up his offer in teaching you self defence.

God knows what he’d do if something happened to you, all he knows is that it would be brutal, violent and bloody for sure.

It’s annoying at first, being pestered and all, but you understand Jason’s reasonings and went through with it for his sake.

Lastly Jason trusts you enough to bear his heart out to you and be vulnerable in your presence, so much so to the point that you knew stuff that he wasn’t as willing to disclose to even the ones he considers his closest friends and family. It’s not often that Jason bears it all to someone but when he does, he does so out of confidence that they wouldn’t use it against him down the line.

He hopes that this method could be applied to you as well and he thanks every god in existence when you open up your arms for him to fall into them in acceptance. He smiles as he closes his eyes, feeling warm and safe within your arms, forever wanting to stay here for as long as forever allows.

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[nohaijiachi]

I got randomly recommended this video by YT and wrote a ginormous comment in response because I have no self control, apparently, so I thought I might as well also share my thoughts here in regard to whatever is going with THIS FUCKING SMILE

(under a cut to not clog y'alls dashboards)

(the first part of the comment here is a direct response to some of the ideas put forth in the video, it is very short so give it a quick watch for more context if you want)

Imo it's not necessary to look into overcomplicated theories that rely too much on off screen shenanigans to explain the smile, for how amusing the idea of them having swapped during the kiss is (like, the kind of stuff I won't want to be actually canon, but I'll be very happy to see explored in fan fics lol)

I think to fully explain that smile we have to take in consideration multiple factors:

This show is very purposeful in what it does and doesn't, well... show. That last shot is very long and I think the fact that Aziraphale's and Crowley's expressions in the aftermath of their disastrous break up is shown in such a manner tells us a LOT about the state of mind they might be at the start of S3, and the obstacles they'll have to face. Aziraphale doesn't immediately smile, rather he seems to look almost shell-shocked for most of the shot; it's clear (to me at least lol) that the quiet ride up the elevator is finally giving him some desperately needed time to fully digest everything that happened, because too much has happened in an extremely short amount of time, and we all know Aziraphale doesn't do well with speed lol.

But, for how much he can sometimes be a complete moron, he is smart, and all he needs are just those seconds of quiet to properly ponder on everything, on the choices made and the ramifications of said choices, and that's how we get to smile-- I'll delve into what I think Aziraphale is going through in his mind in more details later, because I also think it's necessary to focus a bit on Crowley's own expression, since the both of them are so intrinsically linked that the narrative cannot make sense without taking the both of them into account.

Crowley's expression is much more static and doesn't change the way Aziraphale's does; he looks profoundly tired in ways we've never seen him before. I don't think he's giving up on Aziraphale, and I fully believe the fact that he stood there and waited for Aziraphale to disappear in the elevator, the both of them sharing that last look, was a quiet message: He'll never give up on Aziraphale, he'll be there, waiting. But wait is all he can do for Aziraphale, now, because he can't follow where Aziraphale is going.

For how messy and full of heightened emotions the confession + kiss are, I think actually denying Aziraphale's request was a HUGE step forward for Crowley's character. He's never been able to deny Aziraphale, he always went back to him after every fight, and we all know how stupidly whipped for Aziraphale he is and how he'd empty the ocean with a spoon if Aziraphale asked him nicely-- But to actually put his foot down and say "no, I cannot do this for you" when asked to all but renounce the person he is now? Especially with how Aziraphale is all but begging him openly? That's a huge step, and something I think Crowley desperately needs to mature as a person (or, well, person-shaped being). We all love how Aziraphale has him wrapped around his little finger I'm sure, but we also all know that if they truly want to build a strong, healthy relationship they also both need to be able to keep their individuality and to put forth adequate boundaries about what they are willing to do for each other within reason.

Asking Crowley to come back to being an angel when he's made blatantly clear for six thousand bloody years how much he despises Heaven is not a 'within reason' request, innit?

So, yeah, for how heartbreaking the break-up was, in a sense Crowley needs it. They both do. They both need time apart to figure their own shit out, dismantle all those unhealthy habits they had to adopt in order to be with one another as safely as they possibly could while still 'employed', and then come back together with a clearer mind and a whole deal stronger than before, both as individuals and as a couple.

And I think how tired and downtrodden Crowley looks in that last shot is a precursor to this process, just as much as Aziraphale's smile is... So, let me get back to our favorite angel and what I personally think is going on with him.

I think to properly contextualize that smile we need to look at not just the happening of those infamous last fifteen minutes, but of S2 as a whole, and what Aziraphale does in it.

So, what is Aziraphale doing during S2?

At the start he seems to be more or less comfortably settled in his current life; he's as happy as ever doing what he's always done, enjoying humanity's creativity with his books and his music and his food and drinks, seemingly content to be puttering about in his bookshop (which is a stark contrast with Crowley's homelessness and his kinda adrift and depressed attitude). Of course then Jim!Gabriel throws a wrench right into that, but imo I think there was a lot more going on behind the facade of Aziraphale's well ingrained habits.

Sure, he still has all of his familiar comforts and his routine, but from the moment we see him interact with Crowley I saw a deep restlessness emerge in him: The panicked look he launches Crowley when Nina asks him about his 'naked man friend', the way he speaks with Crowley with all those 'our' he uses, the blatant way he keeps reaching over and touching Crowley-- To me that suggests that Aziraphale is clearly not as happy as he seems to be on a superficial glance. He clearly wants more with Crowley, wants to bring their relationship to the next step, but because the both of them are so deeply entrenched in their unhealthy coping mechanisms and habits and their inability to openly communicate it doesn't even occur to Aziraphale to just... You know. Take the first step, actually say something about it. So he just keeps throwing bait after bait in the water, hoping Crowley will bite and be the one taking the initiative as he's always done, finally allowing Aziraphale to accept said initiative, this time around.

Of course, we all see that Crowley doesn't take any first step, which is probably something deeply frustrating for Aziraphale at a subconscious level. That's how we get the ball; sure, on the face of it it was Aziraphale's way to make Nina and Maggie fall in love, but... Was it, really? Let's be real, for how entirely believable it is that Aziraphale makes up the lie about Nina and Maggie's love to cover for their miracle is, since we've seen him being anxious around other angels, I don't think for a second that had Aziraphale just stopped and spent three minutes thinking about it he wouldn't have found a way to convince Muriel that Nina and Maggie were, in fact, in love, especially with how 'green' Muriel is about humans.

I fully believe that Aziraphale is not properly thinking during S2, period. He's frustrated by his inability to bring his and Crowley's relationship to what he wants it to be, and that frustration and single-minded objective is utterly obfuscating his thought process. There are plenty of moments he seemed almost manic, imo, which I read as another sign about his 'impaired' (allow me the term) state of mind as of S2.

So, yes, the ball: On the face of it something to actually turn his lie to the Archangels into truth, but deeper down, perhaps almost unconsciously, I think Aziraphale sees the ball as a way to finally make him and Crowley happen. That fact that he's taking pointers about romance from human literature is blatant, and obviously he truly does believe the ball will be THE way to make love bloom.

If you stop and think about it, the ball scene is terrifying. These people are being manipulated to play the perfect background parts to make, what is in Aziraphale's mind, the height of romance atmosphere happen. The fact we get a juxtaposition with Nina's "what the F is going on, am I losing my mind???" rightful attitude underlines this. And I truly believe Aziraphale isn't exerting said manipulation with intent, but rather doing so subconsciously, because he's just so fixated on the idea of having finally the perfect set-up to have Crowley as he desires that he is influencing everything around him. After all, we all know they both have the tendency of making things happen the way they want simply by thinking that's how things are supposed to happen.

And again, he's so manic and giddy when he asks Crowley to dance, his ass is not LISTENING. He literally needed a brick thrown through a window to snap out of it.

So, in the present we have an Aziraphale who , in his own way, is trying to take the initiative, come out with plans. There is a moment that I think might have slipped under the radar of a lot of people but that's frightfully important about who Aziraphale is at this point in the story, and who he will need to become: "I have a plan," Aziraphale said to Crowley during the stare down with the demons outside of the bookshop after the ruined ball; Crowley didn't even seem to have registered that sentence at all, because his mind is already projected forward and going a mile a minute about what to do to keep both the humans and Aziraphale safe in this situation.

Crowley, who loves to swoop in and save Aziraphale, doing what he's always done to keep his angel safe, even to the detriment of their relationship with one another... And Aziraphale, who adores playing the part of the damsel in distress in turn, is actually telling Crowley that *he has a plan*.

That's not something to take lightly, methinks. That's very much just another sign that Aziraphale's individuality is struggling, trying to emerge through Aziraphale's anxiety and doubts and fears and deeply ingrained habits. Aziraphale's cognitive dissonance in regards to heaven, and his shaken faith in God are huge motivators of his actions, and in the grand scheme of things the scant few years he had away from under the oppressive thumb of heaven is nothing. It was barely any time at all in the face of the eternity of an immortal life spent under that oppression, and yet we are already seeing little glimpses of Aziraphale's rebellious side struggling to get fully free.

I think these little glimpses inform us at great lengths about the evolution Aziraphale's character will go through in S3, and greatly explains that strange smile right at the end; in my opinion that smile isn't the smile of someone who's trying to convince himself that he's ok, or realizing that Crowley loves him (he knew already, they both knew and have known for a long time, their inability to properly express those feelings was their downfall, but I don't think either of them has doubted even for a second when it comes to how much they love one another). In my opinion that smile is the smile of someone who is steeling himself for what he envisions in his future; equal parts old-sedated anxiety and yet determination to actually enact plans he's surely concocting in his brilliant little mind. That's the smile of someone who has just realized that not only they can, but that they need to do something, and you can damn well be sure they won't be sitting and twiddling their thumbs waiting to be saved, but they'll be the one saving themselves and everybody else along with 'em, this time.

Just as Crowley needs to actually spend some time define himself as himself, and not just in relation to Aziraphale, Aziraphale needs to spend some time shedding all those fears and doubts that are weighing him down, and emerge the other side someone much more self-assured and ready to do what he thinks is right without all the hesitations that have indirectly been strengthened by Crowley; in a way, by allowing Aziraphale an out with his 'temptations', Crowley had been feeding into those hesitations, and had been holding Aziraphale back from fully maturing, even if not done on purpose, obviously. Imo is very important for Aziraphale's character that he comes to realize that he doesn't need those excuses Crowley gifted him to keep doing what he thinks is right, that he actualizes his own morality properly, and enacts on it.

I don't have the faintest clue about what is going to happen in S3, but I do fully believe the above paragraph is what Aziraphale and Crowley's respective character arcs will focus on. And once they'll come back together they'll be the most power couple that has ever power coupl-ed, and the Metatron will have no clue about what is about to hit him >:)

[james-is-here]

For @succubus-hansol 🫶🏼

⚠️‼️CW‼️The links in these little blurbs below the cut are literal sex twtr (X) links‼️Proceed at your own will, I've warned you‼️⚠️

These are also my picks. The members I picked are the ones I thought fit the best. There's a lot, might've gone overboard, sorry.

Would it be believable if I said I didn't get hard while looking through my bookmarks? No? Okay, I don't believe my own words either.

Seungmin thinking you've been at the studio or away from him out of country too long and is really needy so he handles it himself, sending you a video and begging for you to just hurry back home cause his fingers or his toys aren't enough. Puppy needs his owner.

Hyunjin, at the beginning of your relationship, believed that only your cock could make him weak and noisy but you proved him wrong with a toy, pulling moans and begs for more out of him as he pushed further back onto the toy.

Jeongin's first time with you and he was super nervous, not sure if he can take you so you suggested at that time just simple, slow fingering while he jerked off to help him relax.

Jisung who made you pull over only minutes from getting home from a date night cause he couldn't wait anymore. You looked too good and his pants were uncomfortably and painfully tight and you squeezing his thigh wasn't helping whatsoever. He needed to be filled with you immediately.

Fucking Chan deep as a reward and stress reliever after returning from the studio. Praising him and making him whine and moan from how deep you are and how good he feels.

Did someone ask for boypuss? No? Too bad. Eating out and fingering Felix fast and hard, his small hands pulling your hair to pull you further into his cunt as he tenses and he's panting out whiny moans, cumming around your fingers when you harshly suck and lick his clit.

This one i've wanted to make something with, this link is tame. Making out with Jeongin, you carried him from the front door to the couch and he's needy, pulling you impossibly closer and cradling your face with sweater paws as he sucks on your tongue and tangles it with his, whining with need before pulling away and begging for more. Then that matches up with this, fucking him into the couch deeply and slowly.

Changbin wanted to ride you but his body was so tired, maybe he shouldn't have asked you to fuck him after the gym but he needed you so you took over, fucking up into him at a brutal pace as you grip and squeeze his hips and his ass, holding him in place as he rapidly abuse his hole to get him to his release.

THIS ONE IVE ALSO BEEN WANTING TO MAKE SOMETHING WITH!! On tour, waking up with Minho and it started with just morning cuddles and kisses but the kisses turned heated and you were rolling him onto his front as you got above him. Fucking him slow and deep, biting his skin wherever you could reach before moving to leave marks on his chest and bite his nipples. Then you move and lay fully on top of him, humping into him and pulling moans and whines out of him as you pick up speed and go harder, faster and deeper, eventually punching moans out of him that have you moving your hands up to cover his mouth. Then your moving him onto all fours and thrusting into him at a brutal pace, making him fall onto his front as he fucks back onto you. (I'm not obsessed, I might make a whole fic from this later.)

These links are ones I found after posting this and wanted to add.

Jisung who fell asleep on your lap while you worked or did stuff on your computer before he's waking up needy from his dream and whines into your neck, squirming on your lap before he pulls back enough and asks if he could use your thigh, removing his sweats before straddling your thigh and immediately starting to hump your thigh at a quick pace, head resting on your shoulder as whiny moans and gaps slip past his lips.

Minho who tied you up, playing and teasing your cock head, driving you crazy with how good he his and how amazing it feels as he sucks and strokes you at a fast pace until your cumming all over his tongue and hand but he doesn't stop, smearing your release and his spit all over your tip and milking you of every drop and overstimulating you as he smears cum and spit all over your tip before he's licking up your cum from his hand and your tip.

Jeongin meaning to save this for just himself accidentally sends it to you and he's freaking out and apologizing but you don't answer, instead you join him in his room and help him out.

Fucking Felix after he presented himself to you in the lingerie set you bought for him.

Ignore the face (Highschool au) Seungmin meeting you after your student council meeting as the president of the council and riding you on the couch in the room student council meetings are held.

Literally any of them surprising you with a school girl outfit for your birthday or anniversary and you immediately have the need to fuck them in the skirt.

You couldn't go on tour with Felix and he's missing you.

Humping Hyunjin's thigh as you finger him and he's moving his hips to hump against your abs.

After math of you and Minho with Jisung

Helping Chan take a break when he's been in the studio for too long or vice versa with Chan helping you when you need a break

Using Jeongin's thighs before schedule starts cause you need him but you don't want him to possibly be in pain or uncomfortable all day.

[gassydumbjocks]

Extreme Fizz

As Tanner sat in his room working on his computer in some homework, he heard the front door slams, sighing at the thought of knowing who it was, seconds later his older brother, Jake, your typical and generic dumb jock with a sweaty tank top and shorts one could easy imagine, burst in with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hey lil bro, I got something for you" Jake said, in his ussual deep voice tone, tossing a can of soda onto Tanner's desk.

Tanner looked up from his computer at him, then at the can, suspiciously "What is this?"

"It's a new soda brand I found at the store! you remember say you needed something to stay focused when you stayed till late doing your final semester proyect?, Thought it might help you with your nerd stuff" Jake replied putting the can closer to him.

Tanner raises an eyebrow, examinating the drink in his hands "Extreme Fizz? I certainly never heard of this brand before... but if it does what it claims, Thanks, Jake" He responded.

Jake just patted Tanner on the back. "No problem, lil bro, that's what brothers do! just remember who helped you to become even smarter" he mentioned letting out a dumb chuckle.

"Yeah right" Tanner said with a bit of sarcasm, finding funny what his airhead of a brother just said. Without thinking too much, he decided to open the can and took a big gulp of the fizzy drink "It if works and i get to finish this project sooner i'll owe you one, you big oaf" He said jokingly with a small laugh to Jake.

Almost immediately, a really strong and bubbly taste filled his taste buds , then he felt a strange sensation coursing through his body. A gurgle announced from his gut, causing him to suddenly let out a small burp, feeling a little embarrassed "BUuUrp!!...Gosh, Excuse me"

Jake chuckled again "Looks like it's working already, lil bro!, Keep chugging that stuff down, some gas is just normal"

Tanner hesitated for a moment and processed the situation, it was just rare how quickly it gave him gas, blaming it on probably how much he chugged at once, He continued to drink, Soon he could feel the fizz invading all his guts and stomach, his mind woking up and working at fast speed, He was in awe with the effects

But as Tanner continued to drink, he started to notice something else, his gut experimenting side effects too.

His stomach began to gurgle louder, then louder again, and felt a huge pressure building up inside him, before he lets out a fart that erupted from his ass.

"PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRTTT!!!"

Sounding pretty bassy and loud for his usuals, his embarrasment increasing only more.

"What in the hell did that drink had to cause such amount of-UUUUURRRRP!!!-Gas!"

UUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPP!!!!

He cried out to the jock, who seemed to enjoy this with a big smile.

"Just ignore that, bro It's a side effect of the soda, Keep drinking," Jake said, urging Tanner to keep consuming the gassy drink.

Tanner felt torture with this, but for some reason now he couldn't stop drinking, the flavor in each gulp just tasted better and better, till the nerd got addicted, He continued to chug the soda, even as he felt his body changing in ways he couldn't explain.

"What's happening to me?!" Tanner yelled terrified, seeing his new body in the mirror.

Jake gave another dumb giggle and grinned wickedly. "Looks like the soda is doing its job, lil bro, You'll become a real man, a jock, just like me, now why dont you belch a bit more? Jocks always love to burp to show off how manly they are" He requested.

As if he was in a kind of trance, he felt a growl in his stomach again "You wont hear me doin such-UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRP!!" the gas slipped out of his mouth with ease, and the contaminated air seemed to affect his thougts too, not much later he found himself letting a deep and dumb laugh out, just like Jake.

Tanner continued drinking, savouring the liquid with exitement, unaware of his actions from now on, with his tongue out like a dog and eyes crossed that made him look like a fool, He felt the urge to let out some more gas trapped in, rubbing his belly, he simply lifted up a leg and proceeded to let loose.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRTTT!!!

BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRPP!!

"BROO it was a comboo hahaha" He dumbly said before flexing with an arm and scratching an itch he had in his butt with the other hand.

The room filled with the manly simphony of his man gas, He could feel himself becoming more brute, gross, and dumb, losing his once cherised intelligence and devolving to have an IQ no higher than an ape.

Feeling his mind slipping away as he transformed into a mindless jock, Jake putted an arm around his neck patting his back "Ain't it feel better bro? Just relax and let the gas rip like the dumb jock you-UUUUUUUUURRRP!!-are" He said before letting out a bassy belch in Tanner's face and giggle like an idiot.

"Dude i feel full and bloated" Tanner complained, but then he simply made a signal of 'wait' with his finger, and lifted his leg.

PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRTTTTT!!

Jake fanned the fart smirking "No more nerdy school projects for you, Now you can join me on the gym with me and the boys and show off your new muscles bro" He spanked his bro's meaty ass, walking out the room to work out together.

Leaving the now athlete boy's room, He was now nothing more than a burping, farting gross beast, just like Jake, ready to let a big one rip like a real man should, and have a good time with his bro.

[esamastation]

Part sixty-one of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty

-

"There, wasn't that so much faster?"

If looks could kill, Tseng's answering glare would've had him six feet under. He doesn't object, though, and Sephiroth grins smugly. He knows might've given the Turk a perfect opportunity to observe his new abilities and that might come back to bite him in the ass, but Sephiroth doesn't care anymore.

He's already fucked everything up! He's killed the protagonist! Maybe! Possibly!

Though true enough, Final Fantasy VII has a weird relationship with mental illness and death and coming back from both, so brain dead is probably nowhere near permanent - but then again, it might be a gateway to who knows what kinds of shenanigans. Especially where Cloud Strife is concerned! The guy was mind controlled left and right, literally swam through the Planet, came out with a major case of broken brain, had someone go into said brain, and recovered! Like. Cultivators could go through some weird stuff too, but that is really something else together!

And the worst thing is, Sephiroth doesn't know how reliant this world is on its protagonists. Back in PIDW, if something happened to Luo Binghe, it might've very well led to Game Over for the rest of them. It definitely would've been Game Over for Shen Qingqiu! Their Protagonist was literally the lynchpin holding everything together. What if Cloud Strife is the same?

And what if Sephiroth's sloppy approach to transmigration this time led to his death?

So, yeah. He doesn't really care about what he reveals. Between accidentally leading to Protagonist's death and becoming the Big Planet-Killing Bad, he's probably got some leeway here. He's already OOC, he already messed stuff up. Who cares!

Plus… Tseng's face was really funny.

Tseng adjusts the front of his suit jacket, giving him the side-eye. "Faster, maybe. Necessary…?" 

"It was very necessary. There's barely a signal at the house!" Sephiroth says innocently and brings out his phone, opening it with a decisive snap. "You can send messages, sure, but to make calls? Besides, you're the one who insisted on tagging along."

Tseng gives him a bitchy face. "I appreciate your accommodation for my wishes, then," he says acerbically. His tone suggests he wouldn't be insisting again.

Sephiroth grins and then turns his attention to his phone. Genesis' number is the third on speed dial, after Mission Office and Angeal.

He answers on the third ring.

"Someone had better be dying," Genesis groans, voice sleep-rough and stretched by a yawn.

Oh, oops, time zones. "Ah, Genesis, did I wake you?" Sephiroth asks, wincing, and turns to walk away from Tseng, following the mountainside and keeping to the clear, where he knows the connection works.

"Sephiroth," Genesis answers, and nothing else. Oh dear, he's really not happy.

Leaning his head back to look at the sky as he walks and hoping he wouldn't be paying for this later, Sephiroth clears his throat. "I'll, uh, just get to the point, shall I? You know about the new injection trials?"

"Yes," and again nothing else. Sephiroth is on very thin ice, it seems.

Walking away from Tseng is more for his peace of mind than anything - he's pretty sure Tseng is wiretapping him somehow. Still, he checks back to make sure there's some distance in between before speaking. 

"There's one candidate that went brain dead," Sephiroth says, and looks away. "I need to know what you know about him."

Genesis is quiet for a long moment before a sigh sounds through the connection, and then there's a sound of bed frame cracking and a heavy breath as Genesis stands up. "Hang on a moment."

Sephiroth waits, biting his lower lip, watching the clouds drift over the forests below.

"Cloud Strife, fourteen years of age, originally from a little town called Nibelheim on the middle continent," Genesis says, accompanied by the sound of papers rustling. "He signed up for the SOLDIER candidate trials a little under a month ago and was pulled into the new project five days ago. He got two injections, both on the same day, and flatlined almost immediately after the second one," Genesis trails away. "They managed to rez him, but by then the oxygen deprivation wreaked havoc on his brain. He'd been on life support in a Mako tank since."

Sephiroth falls to sit on a rocky outcropping sticking out of the mountainside. "Shit."

"Mmhmm," Genesis says. "Hard to say who has it worse, him or the ones who have fallen. You do know that this mess has already led to deaths, right?"

Well, now he's angry. "I know, I know," Sephiroth sighs, running a hand over his face. "I'm sorry."

"Tch," Genesis answers and there's a sound of papers being thrown. "Madness of the beasts leads to the corruption of good men. I'm guessing Strife has a chance of ending up like you, then?"

"... What?" Sephiroth asks.

"Oh, don't play coy, I'm far too tired," Genesis scoffs. "You got overdosed, flatlined and changed. The injection did something to you, gave you knowledge. Is the same going to happen to Strife? That's why Hojo is dragging it out keeping him alive, but if you think so too…"

Sephiroth clasps a hand over his chin. He hadn't even thought about it. Could it happen? Another transmigration, in style similar to his? PIDW had two transmigrators, but they were very different. Shang Qinghua began as a baby, Shen Qingqiu inherited a full life of an established scum villain.

If Cloud Strife died - which he might've already… does that make him open for transmigration? Who would transmigrate into him? Shang Qinghua was slated to die, just like Shen Qingqiu was, but… Airplane, in a Protagonist? Why would he?

Why had Sephiroth?

"I… don't know," Sephiroth admits. "I can't… deny the possibility."

"Damnation," Genesis sighs. "What should we expect?"

"I have no idea," Sephiroth says and looks up. It could be anyone - or might not even be someone he knows! It could be someone from Earth! 

"Well, that's just great," Genesis sighs. "Do you have any idea when, how, what we should look out for, anything?"

"Um," Sephiroth says and then shakes his head. "I think it might be best if I just come there."

"Oh, wonderful idea! That's just what this situation needs, you giving the scientists new ideas!" Genesis groans, muffled as though against a palm. "Just do me a favour: when you next lose it, feel free to finish Hojo off, alright?"

"I -"

Genesis hangs up on him. 

… Rude.

Sephiroth lowers the phone, eyeing the scenery for a moment. Then he turns to his watchman who's pretending as if he didn't hear everything. "Oh, Tseng?"

"I don't know if i can arrange you a transport to Midgar at this short a notice," the Turk says, very bland and noncommittal. He's absolutely lying.

"Oh, you can't? I must've overestimated you Turks," Sephiroth says and jumps up to his feet, walking back over to him. "Isn't your job getting me back to Midgar as soon as possible?"

"Back to work, and only once we're sure you're not still unstable," Tseng says, wryly, giving him a very dubious look. "Something I'm still not so sure of."

"I had one mental breakdown, and I've been level since, haven't I?" Sephiroth cajoles him. "I promise I won't lose it again. And this will let you observe me more, in a different situation, reacting to stress!"

Tseng doesn't look convinced.

"I'm going to Midgar one way or another. At least like this you'll be in charge."

The Turk shakes his head. "I don't think that's a good enough reason to arrange intercontinental transport on a whim." Tseng says dryly. "If you feel fit for duty, I can certainly arrange some missions for you. Until further notice, you're stationed here."

Sephiroth gives him a look. "I'll fly under my own power if I have to," he threatens.

"Even over the ocean?" Tseng asks sarcastically, but pulls out his phone. "And what's your plan when you get to Midgar - walk up to Professor Hojo and just demand he releases a research specimen to you?"

"You know, that might not be a bad idea. Who knows, he might actually do it," Sephiroth says brightly and then, at Tseng's judgemental look, snorts. "I'm kidding. I'll think of something."

"... Very reassuring," Tseng shakes his head and punches in a number from memory. "You'll owe me, Sephiroth," he promises, putting the phone to his ear. "And don't think I didn't notice that you reacted to the name, rather than the status of this Cloud Strife."

Sephiroth smiles at him sweetly. "You're my favourite Turk, Tseng."

Tseng sighs, and gets him a flight to Midgar.

-

You've heard of Liuber, now get ready for...

[rafesbunny]

daddy’s money- r.c 🎀

where r feels bad for always using rafes money so attempts to get a job herself

you instantly regretted this, from the moment you put the greasy apron on and tied your hair in a tight ponytail which was sure to leave a dent in your pretty hair when you take it out. but you felt so bad for always using rafes money. if you even glanced at a new bag in a shops window when passing by you could guarantee it would arriving at your house not even a week later. you had sent in your cv to many cafes and little boutiques in kildare, thinking it would be easy money to help support your lavish lifestyle. you have never worked before always using daddy’s money and daddy’s money and nothing could have prepared you for the hell that is the working world.

you got called in to do a trial shift for a little family owned cafe in the town, and you were giddy walking there. rafe would have driven you but you couldn’t tell him what you were doing, he would never have let you go if he knew what you were doing. you would never have heard the end of it, he would’ve asked are you not grateful for all the hard work he does? and how he does all this for you not to work and how you’re practically disrespecting him by doing this. and you are grateful for him but every night before bed when your brain is filled with a million thoughts, you are engulfed by the guilt of always asking for more money from rafe.

as you arrived the boss instantly shoved a dirty apron in your hands, demanding you tie your hair up and that for next shift your freshly done nails need to be gone, and how this wasn’t a fashion show but a business. tears threatened to spill from your eyes, no one had ever dared to speak to you like this, being the kildare princess after all, but you sucked it up reminding yourself on why you are here.

after a few hours, the trial shift was coming to an end and you couldn’t wait to get home, deciding half an hour into your shift that you would never work a single a second ever again, and that you don’t mind living off rafes money now. not hanging around for a second extra than needed, you ripped off the apron and stormed out of the door, speed walking back to tannyhill as tears clouded your vision. all you wanted to do was take off the uncomfortably tight jeans they had you wear and shower off the greasy smell that lingered on your clothes.

tripping over your own feet, you let yourself through the tannyhill doors. a heavy sob escaped your lips which grabbed rafes attention who was sitting at the kitchen island with topper and kelce. “everything all good, kid?” he asked turning his direction to you, eyebrows furrowed. “jus’ wanna be alone!” you screamed back, storming up the stairs to rafes room. you slam the door behind you and collapse onto the bed, tears and mascara staining rafes fresh bedsheets.

downstairs topper asked rafe “yo, your girl good?” “yeah might wanna go check on her dude” kelce inputed. rafe hated when other people got involved with your relationship, so with a sigh and running his hand down his face, rafe got up and made his way to upstairs to you. making his way into his room he saw you curled into a ball on his bed. “what’s happened bun?” but all he got back was a pillow thrown at him and an annoyed grumble. “hey, hey. none of that. tell me what’s wrong” he demanded sternly. he sat down on the bed next to you, leaning up against the head board with welcoming arms encouraging you to come to him. as you snuggled into his side, him wrapping a firm grip around your waist keeping you close, you admitted through sniffles “just feel so bad for always using your money. thought i’d… get a job to pay for my clothes and nails and stuff but they were so mean and made me wear these f - fugly jeans and - and told me i had take my nails off. i’m so sorry rafe!” you cried out the last bit, hiding your face into his chest.

rafe hates seeing his girl getting upset over something he could have so easily prevented, especially when it came to money. “hey kid look at me now” he grabbed your jaw forcing you to look at him through your doe eyes, “never want you to feel like you can’t come to me for money. i do all of this just for you, baby. wanna spoil you, you deserve it pretty girl. trust me, i want you to use my money - daddy’s money.” a slight smile crept onto your face, knowing as long as rafe was around that was all you needed.

[houseofanticipation]

Read from the beginning

You're having a nightmare. In it Master has his cock down your throat. You're gagging, trying to breathe, but he's not giving you a moment to rest. His cock seems impossibly long, and your esophagus impossibly deep; every time you think you've reached the bottom of his shaft, he seems to go a few inches deeper. Tears are streaming down your face, drool hanging off your chin, sweat collecting on your forehead. But the rape—in the dream you know it's rape, though you have no idea how you got here or where you are or even what your surroundings look like—the rape isn't what makes it a nightmare. In fact, for as violent as it should feel, the rape is actually fairly peaceful. The part that terrifies you, fills your dreaming mind with such inescapable dread, is how badly you want it.

His cock must be miles long at this point. His thrusting is speeding up, his broad hands gripping your head more tightly, his nails digging into your skin. You feel him begin to bulge, expand with what must be liters of cum, but his cock is so long that the process isn't instant. The bulge of cum travels down his shaft, like a cartoon character shoved through a pipe too small for them. You feel, and somehow also see, the bulge shooting down your throat, ever deeper, seeming to gain size and speed as it goes. It will be at the head any second now, and when that happens this desperate hunger inside you will finally be sated. You find yourself trembling with need, and simultaneously gripped with absolute terror at just how complete that need is. The two feelings merge into one, a heart-pounding breath-catching spine-tingling skin-crawling something that is too intense to be either good or bad. You know the moment his cum hits your throat, everything will change.

And then you wake up.

The dream ends before you open your eyes. For a long moment you can't move at all; every muscle in your body is seized up in fear, and you can't seem to remember how to relax. You feel something running down your perineum to your ass, and you realize with disgust that your pussy is dripping wet.

The bed of the slave suite is nicer than the one you have at home. (Had at home. It's not like that stuff is yours anymore.) The mattress is huge and perfectly goldilocks-ed between soft and firm, and the silk sheets feel incredible on your naked body. You never sleep naked, but in sheets this soft you might not mind being forced to. As your body begins to relax and you're able to move again, you find yourself stretching out, luxuriating in the bed, allowing its softness to envelop you.

You hear the electronic whir of the lock on your door, and moments later Master is there in a black silk robe, watching you. You sit up and lift the sheet to cover yourself—an odd time to get self conscious, maybe, but you feel the need to control something—but he gives his head a little shake. "Take that off. There's no hiding your body from me." You let the sheet fall, and resist the urge to cross your arms over your breasts. But you sit with your knees together, so he can't see how wet you are. That, at least, he doesn't seem to notice.

"Today is obedience training," says Master. "I doubt it will be enough to completely break your will; that takes time. But at the very least you'll learn my rules, and what happens when you break them. Now, time for your first lesson. Lay on your back and spread your legs."

You wonder how much you can allow before it becomes your fault. Last night you had no choice, you were tied up. You couldn't move, much less stop him as he fucked you. Raped you, you remind yourself. But you're not tied up this morning. You could fight back, at least try to fight back. If you don't try to do anything to stop him, doesn't that mean a part of you wants him to do it again? You need to prove that you don't want him to do it again. You press your knees tighter together and stare at him defiantly.

He just smiles. "Mmm, you're resistant. That's good, it means you get to learn this lesson early." Before you can think he's lunging toward you, his robe billowing open behind him. Under it he wears only a pair of black silk boxers and through them you can see how hard his cock is. This is his favorite part.

He's on you in less than a second, and you're relieved to find that your fight-or-flight response really does kick in. With no option to flee you find yourself beating against him with your fists, kicking with your legs, trying to wrestle out of his grasp, but he is larger and stronger than you in every count. He gets on top of you, his swollen cock twitching against your stomach, and wraps his hands around your throat. You tug at his arms, try to buck him off, but the harder you struggle the tighter his grip gets, and the weaker you feel. You look up into his eyes and see them gleaming with amusement. You stop resisting.

He holds you there a moment longer, letting you plead with your eyes, letting spots play across your vision, before he relaxes his grip and allows you to gasp for air. He does not get off you, nor does he fully release your neck. "I am stronger than you. I am faster than you. I am smarter than you. You cannot overpower me, you cannot outrun me, and you cannot outthink me. Do you understand?"

You stare into his eyes. You can't be sure how clever he is, but he's definitely not lying about the other two. "I understand." Then, remembering yourself, you add, "Master." You feel his cock move when you call him that.

"Good," he says. "Now, because you resisted me I'm going to have to hurt you. You're still learning the rules, so I won't go too hard, but understand that the more you resist the worse it will get. Are you ready?"

What else can you say? "Yes, Master."

He slaps you very hard across the face. Pain shivers across your skin, making your eyes tear up. You thought he hit you yesterday, but that was nothing. That was just getting your attention. He pulls his hand back and when he hits you again it's a little better, because you can steel yourself for it, and a little worse, because he hits harder. As the immediate pain fades, the skin he struck feels tingly and hot. You close your eyes as he raises his hand again, and then he's taking your nipples between his fingers and pinching quite hard. This one surprises you—you suspect that was the point—and you yelp, though to be honest the pain is brief and not as bad as the slaps. You feel his cock strain against his boxers, and take a mental note: he likes when you cry out. Does that mean you should be more vocal, hoping he'll get what he wants and move on, or stay quiet, hoping he gets frustrated and gives up?

You don't take Master for a man who gives up easily.

Indeed, it seems like he's done punishing you for now, though whether that was always his intention or he was waiting for you to cry is anyone's guess. He rubs your cheek tenderly with the same hand he was just using to strike it, brushing away the tears the pain brought to your eyes. "There, there," he says. "I don't want to hurt you..." He looks down at his cock, rock hard against your stomach, and laughs. "Well, you can probably tell that's a lie, but it's no fun when you haven't earned it. Do as you're told, try your best, and I won't hurt you very badly. I may spank you for making mistakes, but that's just responsible slave keeping. Now, are you ready to cooperate?"

He's shown you it's useless to resist, at least head-on. All you'll get for fighting back is more pain, and he promised to make it worse next time. So you say, "Yes Master."

"Good," he says, finally getting off you. "Now. Spread your legs." You do as he says, and notice with some surprise that you are no longer ashamed of your nudity. Maybe those slaps knocked something loose in you, whatever part of your mind was still clinging to the idea of preserving your honor. You're going to have to give up on pride if you want to survive this situation.

Master kneels at the foot of your bed to get eye level with your groin, and makes an appreciative sound. "It really is a beautiful pussy. You'd go for quite a lot with a pussy like that, even with that attitude of yours. Not that I'm planning on selling you anytime soon. Anyway, go ahead and play with yourself."

You lift your head to look at him, trying to tell if he means what you think he means. What else could he be talking about? It just seems out of character, having you pleasure yourself without pleasuring him. "You heard me," he says. "Masturbate, like you would in your own home. This is your home, after all."

"Yes, Master." You lay your head back on the pillow and lower your hand to your pussy. It's still quite wet from the dream, but you take a moment to warm up anyway: running your fingers over your pussy lips, tracing wide circles around your clitoris, just waking yourself up, getting used to the touch. Then you dip a finger inside yourself, getting it nice and wet, and start using it to touch your clit. Softly at first, just quick swipes across, then longer, slower. You're afraid to tell him you won't get far without something to get you in the mood, something hot to read or watch. But you soon realize that this clit routine is working better than expected: you can feel the orgasm building up faster than you'd have thought for the situation. It's like your pussy doesn't know the difference between fear and arousal. Anything that gets the blood pumping is good enough for me, sweet pea.

As you begin to moan, you find your mind straying unbidden to the way you felt last night, completely helpless, Master on top of you and inside you. You remember the way his cock swelled up when you struggled, the way his eyes looked as he rubbed your clit. You think of the dream, wonder what his cum would have tasted like. He takes you by the wrist and pulls your hand away gently, but before you can protest there's something else touching you, wet and soft and wonderful. It's his tongue, you think, but you don't look. Seeing him doing it would remind you where you are, and you don't want to be reminded. You just want to stare at the the ceiling and lavish in this sensation.

He does it exactly like you would have done it. Somehow, just by watching you for a few minutes, he's figured out exactly how you'd like to be touched. Only somehow he's doing it better. It's like he know what you want next before you do, understands your pussy better than you understand it yourself. As the pleasure mounts you begin to close your legs around his head, barely even noticing as you do it, but without stopping he presses them firmly back into the bed and holds them there. You arch your back, close your eyes, allow yourself to moan unabashedly.

And then he pulls back. The feeling lingers for a moment before falling back, settling down, leaving you twitching and whimpering. Operating on instinct you reach down to bring back the pleasure, but he catches your wrist. "From now on any pleasure you feel comes by my permission. You do not touch yourself without my say so. You do not cum until I feel you have earned it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Would you like to earn it?"

The feeling has receded enough to let you think more clearly, and the shame is creeping in on you. Knowing how much you needed him in that moment, how you would have done anything for him to make you cum, let him hurt you or degrade you or humiliate you. You hate giving him that power; you know the more power you give him over you the harder it will be to escape.

You also know how desperately you want to cum.

"Please Master," you say, voice shaking. "Let me earn it. Let me earn the right to cum."

You can see in his eyes and in his cock how much he likes that. "Good girl."

Being Master's fuckdoll turns out to be more than just sitting around and waiting for him to pump some cum into you. Your entire life is to be dedicated to increasing his pleasure. After breakfast (a bowl of plain oatmeal that you eat with your hands, no spoon having been provided) Master shows you how he likes his shoulders rubbed after a long day at work. You take to it quickly, and you're surprised how satisfying it is to hear his appreciative groans as you dig your thumbs into his tense musculature. He puts his tongue on you again, this time laying you out on the living room sofa, letting you whimper and moan, but he still doesn't allow you to cum. The next thing he teaches you is how to greet guests when they come over: where to put their coats, how you're expected to touch them, if and when to suck their cocks. You make a few mistakes in the practice runs he makes you do—it's a lot to take in, and it gets harder to focus each time he brings you close to orgasm—but you do pretty well. When the lesson is over he lays you across his lap and spanks you mercilessly, his cock hardening again as you whine and cry and beg his forgiveness. When he's done he says, "only ten spanks is better than most girls get for that lesson. You're a natural learner." You have to remind yourself not to be proud of that accomplishment. And then he licks you again, and any thoughts in your head go out the window.

That's the pattern for the rest of the day: Master gives you a lesson in how to behave in his house. He spanks you for each mistake you made during the lesson. Then he brings you right up to the edge of orgasm. He teaches you how to mix his favorite drinks, and when he'll want one. He ties you up in a number of different ways, showing you the right positions to assume to make it easier for him. He shows you the different ways he likes you to sit with him in the living room as he reads a book or watches a movie: your favorite is when he stretches out on the couch and lets you cuddle his leg, your head in his lap. He pretends not to notice as you gently grind your clit against his bare calf, but the swelling of his cock betrays him. As long as you don't cum, you think, he'll let you get away with it.

Each time he stops you from cumming you get a little more desperate, a little more delirious. You make more mistakes as the day goes on, and he has to spank you more with each lesson, but a funny thing is starting to happen. Because spanking always immediately precedes his tongue on your clit, you find yourself starting to get wet as soon as his hand strikes your ass. It hurts, but you don't mind the pain—you kind of like it even. It's exhilarating, makes you feel warm and tingly, and you think it heightens the pleasure when he starts touching you more tenderly. By the end of the day he doesn't even have to spank you: you can feel yourself getting wet as soon as you're in position.

It doesn't escape Master's notice. He runs his fingers along your vulva, sending a delicious chill up your spine, and gives your head a scratch. Nobody's ever done that to you before, but since he started doing it this morning you can't get enough of it; you whimper with pleasure, melting into the couch and into his lap. "You're beginning to like your punishments," he says. "You're a good girl, good girls know how good it feels to get what you deserve. Just so long as you aren't acting up on purpose to make me spank you. If that starts happening I'll need to find another way to hurt you."

You shake your head vigorously. "No Master, never!" And you mean it; it wouldn't feel as good if you knew you hadn't earned it for one of your stupid mistakes.

"Good," says Master. "I think you're ready for your final lesson of the day." He moves you off his lap without giving you your spanking, which disappoints you a little, but when you get your face out of the sofa and turn around your heart leaps with sudden thrill. He has removed his boxers, letting his erection hang in front of you. "It's time you learned how to suck my cock."

Without you quite noticing, most of the shame has slipped away from you throughout the day, but you're reminded of it in this moment. You remember how much you wanted to taste him in your dream, how it felt disgusting and ecstatic and violating and thrilling all at the same time. You hate yourself for what you've already become; a day of orgasm denial and you're already his simpering little slut? Are you really that weak?

But what else should you do? Fight for your life, be punished over and over, live your life in a cage waiting until someone is ready to rape you? Isn't this way better? Why force yourself to be miserable when you can feel this good all the time? You can still work on your escape plan. It doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself along the way. So you leave your shame behind; let it fall off you like a coat you've grown too big for. You get on your knees in front of Master. You look up into his cold eyes. And you begin to suck his cock.

He likes you to look at him. That's good, because you like looking at him too. You like to see his face react to each movement of your lips, each flick of your tongue. His head is dripping with precum—you realize today's activities have probably teased him just as much as they did you, and he didn't even get the release you did. It's warm and salty and just flavorful enough to tease you after the three meals of oatmeal you've had today. You feel yourself dripping with anticipation of what his cum will taste like. You feel insane. You don't know if you've ever been this horny in your life.

He likes it when you lick that strip of skin on the underside of his head, but it's too much all on its own. He shows you how to switch it up, swirling the head of his cock around your tongue, pushing up and down his shaft with your lips and cheeks and throat. He's not interested in shoving himself down your throat with every thrust—he likes throatfucking, he says, but that's not what this is about. This is about you servicing him, not him masturbating with you as a proxy. Still, he likes it when you take his whole cock down your throat, especially when you use your hand to play with his balls at the same time.

At some point he transitions to sitting down, and you to laying belly-down on the couch with your head bobbing in his lap. He lays his head back and moans softly, and you swell with pride at how good you're able to make him feel. His hand is on the back your head, not pushing you onto him, just running his hand through your hair, scratching your scalp with his manicured nails. It feels so good you almost can't keep sucking. You wonder if anyone has ever cum from having their head scratched.

He's getting close. You can feel it in the way his cock swells, the way his fingers become more frenetic on your scalp. You close your eyes and you're back in the dream, watching the bulge of cum speed toward you, dying to know what he tastes like. Then he's gripping you by the hair and lifting you off him, letting your cheek rest on his thigh. "That's enough," he says. "Or you'll make me cum."

"No!" you say, whipping your head up to face him. "I mean, I'm sorry Master, just...please, please may I taste your cum?"

He stares into your eyes, that appraising expression seeming to penetrate your mind and slither through your darkest secrets. He strokes your cheek. "Usually I prefer to cum in your pussy," he says. "But today I'll make an exception, because you've been such a good girl."

You almost weep with relief. "Thank you Master. Thank you so much." You return your attention to his cock, and he moans with renewed pleasure. You feel his weight shifting, and a moment later his hand is sliding between you and the couch, and his fingers are working your clit exactly how you like it. You moan into his cock and lift your ass up to give him better access.

It doesn't take either of you very long. He was seconds away from bursting a moment ago, and you've been in a state of sustained arousal since this morning. He tells you to finish him off with that move he likes, licking under the head, so you do just that. As his fingers quicken across your clit and his cock stiffens in your mouth, you suck your lips onto his head, stroke his shaft with your hand, and flick your tongue across that strip of skin as fast as you can. His fingers reach a fever pitch and you find your ass raising further in the air as your legs straighten, your toes splay out, your back arches. A wonderful, aching glow pours through your pussy and into your stomach and you close your eyes as his cock finally erupts into your mouth. Mouthful after mouthful of warm, thick cum shoots out of him, almost faster than you can swallow, and you feel the dream of this morning melting away. The dream was hot, sure, but it can't stand up to real thing. The texture of his cum on your lips and tongue. The pleasure radiating through your body as his fingers softly stroke you clit and labia. The way it feels to have him in your stomach, like a part of him is becoming a part of you. The feeling of his softening cock against your lips, his balls in your mouth as you run a sensual hand through the hair on his legs. You close your eyes, trying to capture this moment forever.

He lets you stay there as he turns on the TV. You don't understand the show he's watching—it's in a language you don't speak, and your brain is too fluttery at the moment to follow the subtitles—but it doesn't matter. The feeling of his skin against your skin, his cock against your cheek, his hand playing absentmindedly through your hair...it's perfect bliss. Just this morning you were thinking about how to fight back, how to escape. Why would you ever want to leave if you get to feel like this everyday? You'll probably feel differently in the morning, but for right now you allow the moment to take you, let yourself be carried away on a wave of warm, happy calm.

Some time later you are dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you, placing you in your bed. You snuggle into your lovely sheets, only half awake, and the last thing you remember is him lowering his head between your legs to give you a good night kiss.

[corrodedbisexual]

The ultimate shadow ban survivor guide

I've seen multiple people I follow, or their mutuals affected by shadow bans lately (makes me wonder if it's @staff's attempts to fight bots going totally haywire). As someone who survived a 2-month-long shadow ban on my main this winter, I thought I'd make a post.

First step of being shadow banned: calm down and take a breath. A shadow ban is just a stupid glitch in tumblr's anti-spam system. You're not losing your blog. You're gonna need a whole lot of patience, and deal with inconveniences, but it's fixable.

Read the incredibly useful post All About Shadowban by @that-damn-girl. It outlines the symptoms quite well. The only thing I'd point out is "your original posts won’t be visible to your followers either" - afaik that doesn't happen. Everything you post and reblog will still be visible to your followers, and also they can interact with your posts - like them, reblog them, reply to them.

Just like the post says, contact support. I recommend using a different email than what your banned blog is registered to; not because your ticket won't go through (mine actually did, as I found out when they finally replied), but because you might not receive an email confirmation for your ticket (it's somehow tied to the anti-spam thing, I think), and you're going to worry and try to send more tickets, like I did.

Now wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. They are SLOW. I've seen some miraculous 1-day unbans in the #shadow ban tag, but most people, like me, wait around a month for support to reply. Those are the same guys going through thousands of bot reports every day in addition to user tickets.

If you're going to wait, might as well keep blogging. Now if this is your sideblog that's shadow banned, consider yourself lucky. Make a new temporary sideblog, use it to post your original stuff so it goes into tags (mind that it might take a few days for a new blog to start showing up in tags). Reblog everything to your shadow banned blog so you still have all content in one place and your followers see it. If it's your main that's banned, you can still do that, but there's the extra pain of not being able to reply to posts or send non-anon Asks, since that is only done from main. Might need to register a separate account for that.

Some more fun facts under readmore.

Fun fact #1

Trying to send support follow-up emails in the request confirmation email isn't going to do anything to speed up the process. But I did tweet at them using this tumblr support summoning picture by @cornmayor and offered a raccoon blood sacrifice to resolve my issue when it was like a month with no response. This is what they replied.

3 hours later I got an email that my shadowban was lifted. I honestly don't know if it was a coincidence, but I mean, this is tumblr staff. Maybe they do accept blood sacrifices.

Fun fact #2

If you're wondering why my shadow ban lasted 2 months if I got a support reply after 1 month, well. It's hard to say exactly how their ban/unban system works bc support replies exclusively with pre-written template sentences, but basically they fucked up. The first time they told me my blog has been restored, I gained pretty much all functions back, except that my posts were still not appearing in tags. Which means probably that being hidden from tags is some kind of different flag on your blog that they forgot to remove. So I had to send a follow-up ticket and wait another month.

My advice is, when they tell you it's fixed, don't take that at face value, go and check all the functions you'd lost (replies, messaging, asks, tagging, appearing in notes, getting mentioned by others).

[beomgyucoded]

Basketball Player!Kai x Teacher’s Pet!Reader

Prompt: “Quick! I need you to kiss me!” “Wait what-“

Word Count: 2,987

Warnings: bullying sort of? Both the reader and Kai are misunderstood

Part 5 of the First Kiss Series

7:50 A.M.

That was the time you arrived at school every day, not a minute earlier, not a minute later. The ten minutes before classes began were your only moments of serenity. It was the only time you had to yourself before the other students flooded in and overwhelmed you with their presence and not so nice remarks towards you.

As you settled into your usual spot in the library, you pulled out your latest book, eager to lose yourself in its pages before the chaos of the day began. The soft rustling of turning pages was a comforting sound to your ears, a familiar escape from the world around you. 

Amidst the gentle rustle of book pages being turned, there were also the sounds of squeaky shoes, echoing chants, and a sharp whistle being blown. You weren't the only one here at this time, the basketball team would have early morning practice from 7 to 8 a.m. The athletes would dribble, sprint, and shoot hoops in the gym that was adjacent to the library where you sat and sometimes you'd abandon your book to watch them. 

The sound of basketballs hitting the gym floor was usually a steady thud in the background, but today, there was a new sound that caught your attention. Laughter. It was a rich, melodic sound that seemed out of place in the early morning hustle of the gym. Curiosity getting the better of you, you peeked over your book to see the source of this unfamiliar sound.

It was Kai, grinning widely as he high-fived one of his teammates after scoring a particularly impressive shot. His energy was infectious, and even from a distance, you couldn't help but smile at the sight. You've been going to school with Kai since elementary school, and throughout all those years, you had always admired him from afar. He was charismatic, talented, and undeniably good-looking. 

But he was also popular, while you were popular in a different way. Popular as in the popular kids made sure you heard their thoughts about you every day. They were probably the only reason others knew your name. But Kai, despite his status, was always nice to you. He never joined in when others teased you, and sometimes he would smile at you and make conversation in the hallways. They were small gestures, but they meant a lot to you.

Lost in your thoughts, the sound of the bell signaling that it was 8 o'clock brought you back to the present and your eyes widened. You hurriedly scrambled your book and speed walked through the school corridors with your head down, trying to reach your classroom before the first bell rang. Suddenly, you collided with someone, almost dropping your book in the process. Looking up, you found yourself staring into the deep brown eyes of Kai, who was walking with some of his teammates.

"Sorry," he mumbled, reaching out to steady you.

Your heart raced at his proximity, his warm touch sending shivers down your spine.

"It's okay," you managed to say, feeling your cheeks flush bright red.

As Kai's hand lingered on your arm, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. His teammates exchanged knowing looks before one of them nudged Kai with a smirk, causing him to quickly remove his hand and clear his throat.

"You shouldn't touch her for so long Kai," one of them started,

"Some of her lameness might rub off on you."

Ignoring the taunts of his teammates, you brushed past them, not wanting to hear what else they had to say and quickly made your way to your first class.

"You know it's too bad she's such a loser, she's actually really pretty," another teammate said. 

"She's not just pretty, she's hot, have you seen her-"

"Can you guys shut up?" Kai cut them off. 

"You don't even know her, how could you call her a loser?" he asked them. 

"I mean, like, she's always reading books and stuff, and she-"

"That's because she likes to read," Kai defended you. 

"Having hobbies like that is nothing to be ashamed of."

As Kai's words trailed off, he glanced in the direction you hurried off in before continuing the walk to his locker.

You took your seat in class, blinking back tears. You've been getting picked on since freshman year where you rejected the advances of one of the boys who is now popular. The bell signaling the start of class pulled you out of your thoughts, and you quickly scribbled down some notes to look like you were paying attention. Their remarks always stung, and you never understood why they treated you like that. There's nothing wrong with saying no, and it's not like you were the only girl to reject that boy. All their comments were based on pure speculation, they didn't know you. And you were positive they didn’t want to either.

You dreaded lunchtime, it was where the whole school gathered in their cliques in the cafeteria, and you were always alone. It wasn't that you didn't have friends, you just didn't want anyone to know how much it hurt every time they laughed and said things that were far from true.

As you took your seat at your usual table, you glanced around the cafeteria. The familiar faces of the popular kids laughed and chatted, completely oblivious to anything else going on around them. You sighed, feeling a sense of loneliness that only grew as you thumbed at the pages of your book.

"Hey (Y/N)," one your friends greeted as she sat down next to you.

"Is it okay to sit with you? I know you like to be alone and all but it's been awhile since we hung out."

She was wrong. 

You didn't like to be alone, you just thought it was better this way. 

Your friends wouldn't get laughed at for being seen with you this way. 

"Of course, I'd love the company," you replied, forcing a smile. 

Your friend immediately brightened up, chattering away about her weekend plans and the latest gossip. As you listened, you found yourself slowly relaxing and enjoying her company. It was then that you realized how much you'd missed spending time with your friends, even if it was just for a little while.

The lunch period went by faster than usual, and before you knew it, the bell signaled the end of the break. As you two walked to class together, your friend playfully slapped your arm.

"Don't worry about them, okay? We're all gonna graduate in a few months and you're going to do such amazing things while they realize they peaked in high school," she said with a grin.

"I hope so," you sighed, trying to mask the doubt in your voice. 

"Hey, think of this way, you've got the beauty, brains and such a good heart with so much to offer the world. You're destined for greatness and they'll probably be stuck, struggling to find their purpose in life."

You smiled at your friend's words, grateful for her reassurance. As you reached your classroom, you glanced back and saw your friend waving goodbye with a big smile on her face.

"She's right, you know," a voice said from behind you. 

You turned around to see Kai standing there, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You really shouldn't listen to those people," he continued. 

"They're just jealous of you. You're brilliant, kind, and beautiful, you know that, right?"

"Aren't "those people" your friends?" You asked, somewhat surprised by his words.

Kai shook his head.

"Some of them are. But a lot of them are just... surface level friends," he said.

You felt your cheeks flush as you smiled weakly, trying to hide the temptation to believe him. 

"You don't have to pretend to believe me, but I hope you know that not everyone sees you the way they do," Kai said earnestly and walked into the classroom. 

As the day went on, Kai's words lingered in your mind. You found yourself stealing glances at him during classes and looking away just as quickly, not knowing that he was sneaking glances at you too. 

The next day, at the usual time, you were once again seated in your regular spot at the library. Instead of reading a book, you were engrossed in your sketchbook, putting the finishing touches on one of your drawings. The sound of basketballs hitting the gym floor distracted you from your work, and you glanced up to see Kai and his friends practicing for the upcoming game. As you turned your attention to them fully, you saw that they weren't practicing, just shooting around. One of his teammates said your name and you closed your eyes, bracing yourself for whatever he was going to say today. 

"Why did you get so defensive over (Y/N) yesterday?" he asked Kai.

You opened your eyes immediately and raised your eyebrows in confusion.  

"You got a thing for her or something?" he followed up, this time nudging Kai with a smirk.

Kai's cheeks turned slightly pink as he shrugged off his friend's teasing. 

"Nah, she's just a friend. We've known each other for a long time" he replied casually.

"Sure, just a friend," his teammate teased, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't want to be seen with someone like her anyways, you should be trying to hookup with one of the cheerleaders or something," he continued. 

Kai's jaw tensed at his teammate's words, and for a moment, he looked conflicted. 

"(Y/N) is hot though, if she just dressed better and wasn't such a teacher's pet I'd be all over her too," another teammate chimed in and they all laughed. 

Kai's fists clenched involuntarily and before he could say anything, their coach blew the whistle signaling the end of practice. 

The sound of the whistle was also your signal to leave, you put your sketchbook away but instead of getting up to leave, you sat there. You felt slightly embarrassed and just overall sad. You glanced out the window that let you see the gym and saw a small group of cheerleaders attempting to talk to Kai. His other teammates were standing and watching. 

You sat there for what felt like hours, watching the events unfold through the window. You couldn't help but feel a pang of envy towards those cheerleaders, wondering what it would be like if you were like them.  Tearing your gaze away from the window, you felt tears pool in your eyes but you wiped them away quickly. What were you even crying for? They sort of complimented you, didn’t they? You only dressed the way you did to avoid the attention, yet it seemed to have the opposite effect. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rushing footsteps. It was Kai and he was making his way over to you, his expression one of frustration and determination. 

He spotted you sitting alone on the makeshift bay window and walked over quickly, sitting beside you with a sense of urgency.

“Quick, I need you to kiss me.”

You looked at him, your eyes wide with confusion.

"I’m sorry, what?"

Kai's expression softened, and he looked out the window seeing that his friends and the group of cheerleaders had spotted where he rushed off to, their faces contorted with surprise and curiosity.

Without waiting for your response, Kai leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a brief, impulsive kiss. Your heart raced as you felt the softness of his lips against yours, the taste of mint lingering on him. As he pulled back, you stared at him in shock, trying to process what had just happened. Kai turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. 

All you could do was stare at him, trying to make sense of the situation. His kiss had left you feeling both confused and exhilarated, like you had just experienced something out of a movie.

"Kai, what was that?" you finally managed to ask, feeling your voice shake slightly.

He looked away briefly before meeting your gaze again. 

“They kept pestering me about dating or just hooking up with someone, and I’ve always wanted to kiss you. So I just…did.”

He trailed off, and you looked at him, still trying to process the situation.

“How did you know I was here?”

Kai's face flushed slightly, and he looked away before answering.

“You come here every day at the same time. I always see you through the window.” 

You sat there stunned, still trying to comprehend what just happened. 

“You’re not invisible you know, I’ve always seen you,” he admitted, the weight of his words felt like they were referring to more than just seeing you through the window.

You searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was a raw vulnerability you've never seen before. The tension between you two was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and unanswered questions.

"Why?" you whispered, your voice barely louder than a breath and it being the only thing you could bring yourself to say.

Kai took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. 

“You probably don’t remember this, but in fifth grade there was this one time where our teacher had us grade each other’s spelling tests. She handed them out randomly and I remember being anxious because my handwriting isn’t the best and I assumed I didn’t do very well. Well when she handed them back, I saw that you graded mine. It was graded so cutely and your handwriting was like the opposite of mine that the contrast made me laugh. You left a little note on the bottom and it said “Good job Kai, you had nothing to be nervous about” with a cute little heart next to it. How you could tell I was nervous was beyond me, but I asked you and you said “you kept bouncing your leg while we were taking it and your handwriting looked messier than usual.” That’s when I decided I had a crush on you, you noticed little things, you were sweet and well- a pretty girl. You still are, you grew up beautiful.”

You were somehow even more stunned than before, the memory of fifth grade flooding back to you in a rush. You remembered well, he was the shy boy who always sat in the corner of the classroom during classes, his messy handwriting and nervous habits endearing to you even back then. As you sat there absorbing his words, Kai reached out tentatively to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat as his touch lingered on your skin, the warmth radiating from his fingertips. 

"Kai... I..." you began, your voice wavering between apprehension and desire. 

Before you could finish, Kai's eyes met yours, filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and this time, when his lips touched yours, it wasn't brief or impulsive. Instead, it was slow, tender, and filled with years of unspoken feelings.

Your hands found their way to his face, gently cradling it as you returned the kiss, your thoughts forgotten in the warmth of his embrace. It was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, yet it was over all too soon. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I know it was sudden and unexpected, and to me it was long overdue. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.”

You stared into Kai's eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. The warmth of his hands still lingering on your face. You had been holding your breath, unsure of how to respond. 

"Kai, I... I do feel the same way," you whispered.

It was true, you’ve always been fond of the boy. Though you chose to suppress your feelings for fear of being rejected or judged. Seeing the vulnerable side of him today alongside his confession, the walls you had built began to crumble. 

His eyes widened in surprise, and you could see relief wash over him in an instant. 

He pulled back, gently cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the outline of your cheekbones.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his.

"Yes, I'm sure."

His smile was slow and tentative, revealing a hint of disbelief and joy.

"Then, can I...?" He hesitated, his voice barely above a murmur.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his once more. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty. The kiss was a declaration of feelings long kept hidden, a promise of a future yet to be written. 

Kai gently pulled away, his eyes full of desire and tenderness, his fingers lightly grazing your cheek. 

“Let’s not rush into anything,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I want to make sure this is what you truly want, and not just because of the moment.”

You understood his concern, and nodded, taking a deep breath. You needed to be sure of yourself, too.

“I understand,” you whispered, meeting his eyes. 

“Let’s take it slow, but I promise, I’m in this for the long haul.”

Kai smiled, a genuine and heartwarming smile that reached his eyes, making them sparkle. He stood up, holding out a hand for you. You took his hand, your fingers intertwining naturally with his, hands swaying back and forth as you walked out of the library together.

“Can I take you out?” he asked, hesitance still lingering in his voice.

“Like, out on a date?”

You smiled, the corners of your lips curling up in a grin. 

"I would love that." 

a/n: I'm sorry this took so long, I wasn't too sure where I was going with this honestly. But that’s the final part of my mini series! I had fun coming up with the prompts and then trying to bring them to life. I hope you enjoyed them ♡

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[mushhroooms]

Bad Dream (Chris Redfield x Gender-neutral reader)

Gender-neutral pronouns because I know I write way too much x female reader stuff, so I wanted to do something different because I know it’s not just she/her’s in the Resident Evil community so this is for everyone!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ Chris had left on a mission, caressing your face and kissing you sweetly before walking out the door

It had been months but you didn’t worry. He would find time to call you or send little texts to check up on you when he knew it was safe.

But then they stopped, you didn’t think much of it, he might just be occupied but, you tried to ignore the sense of dread that filled you after the third day, anytime Chris has gone on a mission, you never went more than a day without at least a text from him. You were worried, but you tried to hide it, surely he just had to be busy…

But then the knock came on the door and when you opened it, you saw the men in uniform. As you realize what had happened to your beloved husband you feel your heart drop. “We’re sorry for your loss…” After that, those words became normal, every time anyone who knew you and Chris saw you, they would tell you those words. This couldn’t be real, right? But after 2 months, the reality finally fully set in and your head came down from the clouds. Your husband was dead.

You didn’t leave bed that day, or the next day after that, or the day after that…

Chris was shocked when he and his squad returned from their mission and found out everyone had thought they died.

But- They had been talking to their loved ones… turns out, their phones were bugged months ago. They hadn’t spoken to real people besides each other in months, just simply robots to trick them. God, that guy had been a sneaky bastard.

They were all worried, everyone they knew thought they were dead.

Chris immediately thought of his partner… How had they taken the news? Were they ok?

Chris didn’t bother to wait, as soon as they were cleared he was in his car and speeding to their house.

When he pulls up, he can see your best friend at the door. Food in hand and worriedly knocking on the door. He gets out of the car, heart heavy and worried for his partner.

As your best friend hears his car door shut, they turn around, their eyes widen and they nearly drop the food in their hands.

“Chris!? You’re alive!?” They ask in shock

He nods “It’s a shock I know. Are they ok?” He asks worriedly

Your best friend shakes their head. “They won’t answer my calls or texts, not just mine, from anyone, even their parents.” They pause “How are you alive?”

“I’ll explain everything later.” He says as he begins to look through his bag.

Chris’s worry grows when they mention his partner has not answered anybody’s calls or texts and he fishes his keys out of his bag. Unlocking the door and opening it slowly, the house is dark and stuffy, The curtains are shut and he can see dust collecting on shelves and tables, but he also sees there are no dishes in the sink, Have they eaten? Drinken water?

Your best friend places the food on the counter while Chris heads upstairs.

He walks to the bedroom, bracing himself just in case of a worst-case scenario. His palm touches the door gently, and he hesitates. The worst cases running through his mind of what he’ll find on the other side of the door. But, he has to know… He gently pushes the door open, it creaks softly. He can see a lump on the bed under the blankets and dread fills him… What if they were dead?

“Baby?” He calls out softly

He sees movement and the dread that had filled him goes away. They were alive! But he’s still filled with worry for his partner.

They move the covers off their head. They looked exhausted despite the fact it was obvious they hadn’t left bed in god knows how long. They looked malnourished and in desperate need of a shower. Their eyes were puffy from crying. His heart broke at the sight.

“Chris?” Their voice is weak, probably from all the dust and nothing to drink. He can see the tears brimming in their eyes.

He rushes to the bed, kneeling next to the edge of the bed.

“It’s me- It’s me, baby” He speaks softly with his own tears growing in his eyes.

They shake their head “No- You can’t be real” They say shakily, thinking they must have gone crazy or died.

They sob “You can’t be real. You-” their words die down as he cups their face with rough, calloused hands crafted for war… but his touch is so gentle… so tender… so- so grounding.

They begin to sob harder “Chris!”

He gets onto the bed next to them and pulls them into his arms quickly, shushing them and running his hand through their hair.

“Shh, it’s ok, baby. I’m here now” He whispers softly

“But- How!? They-They-” He places a finger to their lips.

“I’ll tell you later, I promise. I just need to comfort you right now.” He puts their head against his chest and their sobs grow as they feel his heartbeat.

‘You feel that? You feel that heartbeat, sweetheart? I’m alive. And I’m not dead nor dying anytime soon.” He kisses their head as he continues to run his hand through their hair.

“I need you to tell me something, baby.” He says, pulling them away from his chest so he can look into their eyes.

They sniffle and wipe their eyes, looking at him.

“When was the last time you ate? Drinken water? Showered?” He asks softly with worry clouding his tone.

They look ashamed “I-I don’t know…” They speak softly “I-I just, I just wanted to stay in bed- I wanted to wake up and found out it was a bad dream!” They sob softly

His hands cup their face again “I understand, sweetheart. I’m sorry you’ve been going through this… But, I’m here now. Ok? I’m not leaving again anytime soon. It was just a bad dream.” He kisses their forehead.

His thumbs stroke their cheeks softly, wiping tears away as he does so. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I never ever want to see you like this again.” He whispers

They hug him, crying into his chest. His arms wrap around them tightly. They can feel his muscles against their back, his warmth, his heartbeat. This was real. He was here. He was alive.

“I love you so much, Chris.” They sob

“I love you too, baby. More than anything.” He whispers

[dellalyra]

satoru with little megumi and tsumiki is so cute!! i also can't stop thinking about how funny the reader and Satoru would be juggling trying to have "that conversation" (sex) with the two of them, i swear in my head this scenario was very funny

A/N: OMG this was so fun to write, I had such a giggle writing it THANK U SM also thank u all sm for ur requests, expect them posted throughout the week!!! Ily all

CW: SEX, sex talk, sexual content, mom and dad are cringe and try to talk to the kids about the birds and the bees, talks of sexuality and bodies etc, mdni, I’m bi so I asked my amab gay pal for help writing some parts so I hope I did okay!!!

Family Formations - Birds and Bees.

“SATORU” A yell sounds as you come crashing through your bedroom drawer.

“Y/N!” The white-haired man currently lounging on the bed replies.

Then you start rambling so damn fast that even he can’t keep up with the speed of your words.

“Princess. You’re gonna need to start that again. Maybe throw in some breathing this time round.” He smirks.

“Satoru. Tsumiki - she’s gotten her period. I’ve explained it to her but ‘Toru - we’ve never given them THE TALK. The birds and the bees.” You scramble to sit on the bed with him.

“Baby, they know what birds and bees are,” Satoru says, completely confused as to why you think they need a nature lecture.

“No, ‘Toru. THE TALK. The horizontal tango, matrimonial polka, a bit of how’s yer father, squat thrusts in the cucumber patch, creaming the twinkly.” You stare so seriously at him, his hands clasped in yours.

He just blinks at you.

“Y/N, are you okay? Are you like… malfunctioning?” He asks, genuinely concerned.

“Jesus ‘Toru! Sex!” You say, shaking his shoulder.

His eyes light up.

“Hell yeah, just lock the door.” He says as he begins to unbutton his jeans.

“No! Well, yes! But later! Satoru – we’ve never spoken to the kids about sex, that kind of talk! They’re 12 and 13! They’re gonna start hearing things in school, and they’ll have questions about their bodies – I don’t want them to have an unhealthy relationship with sex! Or their bodies! We’ve spoken to them about the basics, they both know about periods, what boobs are, how to keep yourself clean, what touch is good and what is inappropriate, and that they can say no to someone wanting affection. We’ve done all the basics, but what about like – the sexual parts, like they know what sex is, we’ve talked to them about the physical side of things, like what goes where –” You were just babbling again, you and Satoru were only 24 – how the fuck do you parent teenagers?

“Oh my god, I’ve never explained wet dreams! He’s gonna think he’s dying!” Satoru has realised that this is an issue.

Maybe in 10 years, you’ll realise how badly you’re both overreacting.

But probably not.

“Tsumiki knows there are 2 separate holes – I taught her that when her first period came. Megumi knows what a period is, we’ve never hidden any bodily functions from them – they know the logistics of everything. Wait, what else do we tell them?” You were so close to ripping out your hair.

“Condoms!” Satoru exclaims, and points at you.

“Condoms!” You agree.

“Do we have any? We need a banana – or maybe a cucumber?” He begins searching the bedside tables.

“Satoru we’ve never once used a condom, I’ve an IUD! Oh god, we’re such bad role models.”

This frenzy goes on for another hour before you both have a basket of stuff, and you call the kids into the living room. You already know that you might have to pin Megumi down, so he listens. You both decided that there were no questions off limits, 12 and 13 were tricky ages, and you both decided you wanted them to go into the world armed with healthy, positive information instead of keeping things secret and them finding out stuff from friends or porn.

“Is everything okay?” Tsumiki smiles, as she takes a spot on the cosy sofa.

“I was reading – what do you both need?” Grumbles Megumi – those teenage hormones reminding you why you’re here.

“So! We wanna talk to you guys about, drumroll, please… BOINKING!” Satoru says, with jazz hands for panache.

“What the hell is boinking?” Megumi asks, already disgusted.

“Exactly why we’re here! Your mom and I want you both to know all about the human body and the delightful pleasures it can bring. Your bodies are growing and changing, and soon enough you’re going to start feeling some funny things!” Satoru has sat on the opposite loveseat, with you beside him.

“Oh. My. God.” Tsumiki’s mouth drops open.

“What?” Megumi asks, suspiciously.

“Oh no. Why? Why me? Why today?” She laments.

“Can someone tell me what’s happening?” The young boy grumbles.

“They’re giving us the talk.”

“Oh, please God no.”

“Yes!” Satoru smiles, slapping his knee.

“Guys – I know how much you two are gonna hate this. I hated it when my mom did it too, but this is us keeping you two safe okay? Plus, wouldn’t you rather have all the facts, Megumi?” You knew that appealing to Tsumiki’s emotions and Megumi’s practicality would at least make them sit for a while.

“We’re not getting out of this, are we?”

“Make it quick.”

“Okay! So you guys know what sex is – two people expressing emotions, physically. If between a man and a woman, it can create a baby. But there are loads of types of sex, and it doesn’t have to be between a guy and a girl.” You start.

“Yeah! Like your mom and I are both bisexual, so that means we’ve both – too personal, point taken” Satoru was cut off by both of them glaring.

“So if a man and a woman are having sex…” You begin the explanations of what goes where, the changes that will happen once they start to get older, the science behind things, the fun stuff – masturbation is okay – and healthy! Then that sex can be lots of different things, never feel rushed to do anything with anyone, a quick (and very painful for the kids, possibly scarring) demonstration from you of how to put on a condom (thankfully, you had bananas), different forms of contraception and safety.

All in all, you and Satoru thought it went great

By the end of everything you could think of, Megumi had a pillow on his face and Tsumiki’s eyes seemed glazed over. That means it sank in.

“Okay! So if you guys have questions, never get scared to ask us! Believe us, we’ve probably done way worse!” Satoru says.

“That’s very true! And if you guys don’t wanna ask out loud you can write us a note, maybe?”

“Oh! Important! Megumi – you don’t just gotta ask me, you can ask mom too because believe me she knows her way around a male –” You slap your hand over his mouth. His big, idiotic mouth.

“That’s true though, just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t answer your questions, and the same goes for you Tsumiki with dad, okay?” You softly smile at them, you’re aware that pretty much everything you and your fiancé do is utterly chaotic - it’s in both your natures, but you hope that maybe – them both knowing that you guys are also absolute messes will make them feel better about coming to you. Because no matter what, you’re their mom and dad.

“Do you guys have any questions?” You ask.

“No holes barred! Ask away!” Satoru chimes in.

“I do. Ehm… can you get pregnant from a toilet seat?” Tsumiki asks.

“No – you can’t. It’s gotta get right up there.” You reply.

Tsumiki giggles at this and proceeds to ask a ton more –very clever, questions, ranging from who grows hair where to do boys have a clitoris.

Tsumiki then excuses herself to the bathroom, and you glance at a squirming Megumi.

“Nothing off limits, ‘Gumi. Promise.” Satoru smiles at him.

“Um… if a guy does… that… with anyone guy – how do they know who, oh my god I hate my life, howdotheyknowwhoputsthepenisinandhowhasitinthem.” He couldn’t have spoken faster. Physically.

You take a second to try and decipher his words.

“Well, that’s an individual thing! It depends on the couple, it alternates sometimes, and sometimes there’s one person who prefers each type of feeling. The best thing to do is just ask and communicate and read the situation.” You speak.

“It’s different for every couple kiddo – and that’s what makes it all fun because what you will have with each person is gonna be unique. Just talk shit out, and see what the vibes are like. Explore different things too.” Satoru says, leaning back on the loveseat, this is a side of Satoru you absolutely cherish – you love all of him, but this vulnerable, soft, honest side is reserved for those he loves the most.

Tsumiki comes into the room. Her face was white as a sheet.

“You okay, ‘Miki?” You ask.

“The sound. The banging sound I heard, when we were on vacation. That wasn’t the pipes hitting the wall, was it?” She asks as if asking if the ghost in her room was real.

You couldn’t help but laugh, because no – it wasn’t. Your rooms in your cottage were all soundproofed, the hotel in Okinawa, not so much.

“So you see Tsumiki – when a mommy and daddy love each other veryyyyyy –” Satoru says with a huge evil grin on his face and you laugh yourself into knots beside him.

“No! Shut up!” They both run like the wind down the hall.

“Parents boink too, Tsumiki! It means we love each other so much we just –”

“STOP PLEASE STOP!” You hear coming from the kid’s rooms. That was them locked away for the night.

Maybe the teenage years will be kinda fun, if you get to keep messing with them. The title of embarrassingly in love parents fits you guys after all.

“So you know earlier… I said ‘later’?” You turn to your fiancé, resting your hand on his thigh.

“Yeah, princess?” He smirks, tilting your chin up with a long index finger.

“It’s later.” You giggle, grabbing his hand and running down the hall with him to your – thankfully – soundproofed room.

[selfcestmovies]

New recruits at Avengers Compound don't get much face-time with the higher-ranking heroes. As much as you might have loved to get to know the gamed Natasha Romanoff face to face, she was far too busy for the green members of the squad.

Still, you'd hope for any chance at a meeting. You'd ogle at the Black Widow from afar. She was so intense. And hot.

Your first meeting was fully unexpected. Each new hero had a specialized training regiment run out of the Compound's newly refurbished Simulation Rooms — capable of recreating fully life-like and battle-ready simulations. When you arrived for your first session, it was none other than Agent Romanoff herself who handled your onboarding.

"Have you used the Sim before?" What followed was 30 minutes of jargon, but you followed most of it — Stark had cooked up a state-of-the-art holographic simulator to help Avengers of all levels practice combat without the need for a corporeal opponent. Natasha joked that it was in order to prevent her from kicking the ass of any new recruits. She had programmed your regiment herself. "You're to report here at 0900 each morning for an hour of combat. I'll be monitoring your progress and adapting the program daily. Follow?"

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. "When do I start?"

Natasha had already turned to walk away from the Sim entryway. "Now – your first training is already queued up."

You gulped and entered the large, blue simulation room. There was no opponent in sight, until slowly the walls around you began to flash with lights and whir with energy. Then you saw her.

"Glad you're here. Let's start." It was Natasha, through and through.

"Didn't," you stammered. "Didn't you just leave?"

The Nat just laughed and began stretching. "That was the real Nat. I'm just a simulation, although I — I mean, the real Natasha — programmed me herself, so I share her — or my — physical and mental map." She rolled her eyes. "We're the same, basically, except I'm not the real Nat. You got it?"

You nodded.

"Then let's begin."

The coming months, day by day, you'd report for brutally intense hours of training with the "Natasha" simulation. She showed you various moves, grapples, holds and parries before forcing you to try them at full-speed with hardly any preparation. For a simulation, she sure packed a wallop.

Did you entirely hate it? Not in the least. You had been crushing on the redhead since you were in high-school and first saw the Avengers on TV. While you'd never have the chance to get an hour of private time with the real Nat, getting this up-close-and-personal with her exact double wasn't too bad of a consolation prize. At one point she pinned you to the mat with her thighs. It was fucking wild.

"Good work," she huffed when the hour was up.

It was weird to see a simulation out of breath and sweaty. "You act so real," you noted.

Nat laughed. "Guess so. See you back here tomorrow." And with a flash of blue light, she vanished, and the front door to the Sim slid open.

What you never expected was how comfortable you started to become around the Nat simulation, or more surprising, how relaxed and fun she began to act around you. If you didn't know any better, you'd think the Sim was flirting with you. After another month, you built up the courage to wink at her once she pinned you to the mat. Another month later, you made your interests vocal. "Good workout, hot stuff."

Your heart was in your throat. The simulation didn't seem to mind at all, and if you didn't know any better, it seemed like she had reciprocated the interest.

The first time you kissed her, she kissed you back.

The next day your training session was cancelled, and a few hours later, the real Natasha was knocking on your dormitory door. "I've been keeping up with your progress," she started. Your panic was fully visible. "And it's looking good. My Sim seems to think you're ready to up your regiment. Does that sound good to you?"

You nodded, speechless. By the next morning, training was back on your calendar.

"I'm glad you're back," the Sim strutted towards you once you entered her domain. "I made a new proposal for your training."

"Oh?" You were curious.

"If you're interested in learning seduction, it was easy enough for you to simply put in a request. But we're going to need some assistance."

The Sim Room buzzed with blue particulates as the hologram shifted shape. You watched as another simulated figure stepped out from the shadows.

"Just watch what we do, okay? This'll be fun."