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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year

Note

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting.

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself…

Now that is pure hell.

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to.

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today.

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown.

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you."

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too.

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm.

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?"

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling.

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows.

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you.

"I'm just…"

Jesus, this is just humiliating.

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise.

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one.

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–"

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…"

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven.

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing.

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know."

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done.

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to.

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to…

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is.

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months?

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess."

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution.

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to.

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok."

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly.

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender.

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty.

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him?

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy.

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left."

Whoa.

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop."

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in.

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end.

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you.

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard.

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all.

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core.

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load.

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…"

He sounds dazed.

Relieved.

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..."

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even.

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fluff #soft simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon riley x you #fluff and smut #call of duty

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gallusrostromegalus · 3 months

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I am constantly procrastinating working on my original fic by writing fanfic. Any advice for how to refocus and finish my novel?

Well. The novel probably needs a nap.

Procrastinating is a symptom that something is preventing you from doing the thing you "should" be doing. Most of the time it's an unrelated, but actually higher priority task like resting after an illness (society is fucking lying about anything else being more important) or filing your taxes (actually this one is pretty important).

...but if you're procrastinating on one creative project with another creative project, you're not procrastinating: something about the novel is off right now, the fanfic is more appealing to you.

Consider the following:

You may be writing fic because it brings you more joy than the novel. If you really want to get back to the novel, figure out what would make working on it more enjoyable. Engagement from a beta-editor? Skipping this really boring scene and coming back to it later? Adding more smut?

You may also be writing fic because it's got a lower spoon coat than the novel and you need to conserve your spoons right now. Any extra stress in your life? Moving? Toothache? Recovering from Covid? Annoying roommate? Sick family member? It's an election year? ANY of those could soak up extra spoons and make your novel too expensive for your spoons budget. Let it take a nap, and come back when you're feeling better.

You may be sharpening your artistic skills on a lower-stakes project before going back to the novel. This is pretty normal- even Michaelangelo took breaks to work on other pieces while sculpting The David, both for a change of pace and so he could try something out without fucking up the big block.

Fortunately, you're writing, so you can always try writing the challenging scene a dozen times in different docs or save the parts that were good but don't not in a spare parts bucket doc.

Or keep working on that fic, it's helping you learn on a subconscious level.

You don't love the novel right now. This is alright. This is usually temporary, and the solution is the same- put it aside and work on something else.

Maybe you are just bored of the novel. That's fine and normal, you just save all the documents to your hard drive and come back later. When the fic inevitably gets boring too, you'll come back to the novel and either go "oh hey this kicks ass!" And return to it with renewed enthusiasm.

...Or you'll come back to it and go "oh. This is actually a piece of shit" And that's okay too, because there's nothing more useless than polishing a turd, but that turd is still valuable as compost. You learned things writing it, and you can still rifle through the novel for good lines or scenes or turns of phrase and put those in your spare parts doc to ferment into The Good Shit in the back of your mind.

HOWEVER:

If you are experiencing a different phenomenon wherein you are actively distressed while writing the fic- either out of misplaced guilt, or the fic isn't actually fun you just feel compelled to do something, or absolutely every creative endeavor is stressing you out, you may be experiencing a serious mental or physical health issue and you should see your GP or a specialist ASAP. Pain is an indicator that something is wrong. Do not ignore your body's warning light.

That sounds really dramatic and hyperbolic but realizing I was not enjoying ANY creative work was the symptom that finally got me to sit down and go "huh. All these random pains, irregular sleep cycle, frequent migraines and weird bouts of vertigo aren't normal either, I should get this looked at." And it turned out I had dangerously low blood oxygen at night from undiagnosed sleep apnea. I have a CPAP machine now and it's AMAZING.

I really hope this is regular artistic shuffle and not a serious health concern, but if you're experiencing creative stress AND a bunch of other shit, it may be serious.

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strawberrystepmom · 5 months

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gojo x f!reader are married. he refers to readers breasts and makes a lewd joke. divider by cafekitsune my most beloved | wc 822

“That one looks like you.”

Squeezing Satoru’s bicep where your hand rests against it, arm looped through his, you giggle and shake your head. The statue in front of you is flesh made marble, a woman with thighs that maybe on a really good day resemble yours so painstakingly crafted that crowds gather to see her. She’s beautiful, a depiction of a goddess from fables you are both vaguely familiar with.

Is this really how he sees you? It makes those same butterflies he always manages to create stir in your belly and you wrinkle your nose, taking a peek up at him but looking away to admire the beauty depicted in front of you.

“You’ve already charmed me, Satoru. You don’t have to tell tall tales.” His gaze shifts from the sculpture to you, something you can feel rather than witness. He scoffs and tilts his head, shifting from standing beside you to in front of you, arms still linked together.

“You always say that when I compliment you. Why?”

Laughing, you reach to pinch his side with your freehand and he dodges just in the nick of time. It’s preventative, he always giggles and causes a scene when you touch the tender ticklish spot right at his hip bone, and a museum in another country on a trip the two of you had to bend your schedules to go on is not the place to have a tickle fight. He traps your hand in his and deposits it at your side with a smug half smile.

“Let’s not get into it right now. I’ll just say thank you for the compliment and we can move on.”

Never one to take being put off gracefully, he crowds against you until there is zero space between your bodies. You worry about the PDA being seen as offensive or too much and glance around the mostly empty on a weekday museum where everyone else is fairly ignorant of your existence. It’s just the two of you, as always and not just in your head this time. Smiling, you let him embrace you and rest his balled hands against the small of your back, your entire body leaning into his side.

“You know, I’d have a house full of sculptures and paintings of you just like that if you’d let me,” he mumbles under his breath to bait you. You laugh aloud, pressing your cheek to his arm. “What, nude?” He sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and raises his eyebrows over the tops of his sunglasses. “Obviously. Or clothed or in a gown or in water or tangled in our bed sheets.”

Pausing to take a breath, he’s surprised to see you already looking up at him when he gazes down at you. He wishes he could capture this with more than just his eyes, his phone and heart. He has painted you before and would create a thousand more odes to his beauty if he had more time on his hands and you’d let him. You’re so eager to disbelieve your own beauty, you haven’t sat to be painted by him in years.

Satoru makes a mental note to rectify that as soon as the two of you get home but continues to speak now that he has your undivided attention, smirking, all dimples and mischief and the things you love the most about him, the tenderness in your glance a reflection of how you feel.

“I’m just saying. I’m sure I could find some sculptor to carve my pretty wife and would do those,” he glances down at your chest and you roll your eyes half-heartedly, still wearing the smile he put on your face with his casual comparison of your likeness to that of a goddess. “The artistic justice they deserve.”

Despite the tongue in cheek joking, he can be such a romantic when he wants to be. You kind of feel he’s laying it on a little thick because you’re on vacation but what’s the harm in having fun when it is luxuriously just the two of you, the rarity that it is?

Smiling up at him, you offer a better solution.

“Maybe they can sculpt both of us. We can see if they’ll do that,” you subtly reach down and pat just below his belt buckle before he can swat at your hand or turn on his Infinity to keep you away, pulling your hand away as quickly as you can. “Some justice too.”

Now that’s an idea he appears to like, his smirk sliding into a full smile. You pat his arm and separate yourself from him, only to be met with a whine. You reach behind you and grab his hand, fingers intertwining as naturally as they always do, pulling him along with you.

“Now let me show you which one reminds me of you,” you tease him, smiling over your shoulder.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #kendall writes #satoken

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sweetlywriting · 6 months

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Allegiance

Feyd Rautha x Reader

Part one Part two

Warnings-Dune II spoilers, minor violence, enemies to mutual respect to fiancés(?)

Synopsis- Your planet is rich in horticulture and resources but faces the growing fear of imperialism from other houses. A solution presents itself when you are offered to marry their heir to house Harkonnen, Feyd Rautha.

You entered into the colosseum-esque arena, fascinated with the way the sun cast a veil of black and white onto everything within its grasp. It was subduing and you felt as though you were in an old imperial painting, where all was colorless but the expressions of the people in them.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy this. Feyd Rautha wanted you to arrive today so you would be able to see the show” The Baron said in his mangled voice, gesturing a pale hand towards you.

“I am honored to be in attendance Baron, especially on such an important day.” You said, musing on how it was rather generous for the Na-Baron to allot your visit on his own birthday.

You were excited, no one had told you quite what the entertainment was but you could imagine great performances and exotic animals in the Na-barons name. A lighter part of you also wished to see what he looked like, how he held himself, what is voice was like-though surely upon the prospect of marriage it was rational to take into consideration.

A crease began along your mouth as three staggering men in chains were pushed into the arena along with who you could only assume was the Na-baron. Your temperament quickly changed realizing the entertainment was a fight to the death. The discontent grew seeing that two of the weren’t even truly conscious, stumbling and flailing. ‘A cowards move’ you thought pursing your lips.

You felt more foreign than ever, closely observing the calm and jovial nature of the Harkonnens around you, cheering at the calamity. It frustrated and confused you deeply, unable to stand the senseless violence. The intense smell of blood lust made your eyes water and their rims turn a bloodshot red. Why would your house choose you for him? Your home planet and house was far smaller than Geidi Prime but held traditions of peace and neutrality strong. Yet your family wanted you to marry this man? Live on this planet? With these people?

You turned to your attendant and motioned them to sit beside you.

“What were they thinking sending us here?” You whispered softly in your foreign tongue to them.

“The future of our planet my lady.” They whispered back, head down.

You felt uneasy, but understood that without some influence or power your house would soon slip into irrelevance or face threat from stronger houses. You wore the duty only for the love of your people.

You were snapped out of your reflection when the crowd started to roar again, the bodies of three atreides prisoners lay limp on the floor while the Na-Baron raised his bloodied weapon in victory. Bile rose to your throat. ‘How very difficult this will be’ you thought.

***

A banquet was held for the Na-Barons birthday and you were glad that there was no loss of life involved in simple meals and dance.

You roamed in a corner of the large room, dreading having to present yourself and your gift to the Harkonnens, wary of their violent nature, but it seemed the Na-Baron had beat you to it.

“Lady y/n” The Na-Baron said as he approached you. Up close you couldn’t deny that he was frustratingly handsome with sculpted features, tall gait, and skin like the white marble only seen in Kouros sculptures.

“Na-baron” You said, bowing lightly and offering your hand.

He took it, but rather than shake like on your home planet he kissed it. A polite gesture, but a bit rougher than you would have liked. His teeth grazed your hand and left marks. You tried to smile and brush the thought of getting some painful infection on foreign planet over something this irritatingly trivial.

“Call me Feyd. I heard you made it in time to see the Arena festivities” he said with a wolffish grin.

“Yes.” You said curtly, knowing if he asked how felt about them you would not be able to lie.

“Did you enjoy them?”

“I . . . thought it was rather brazen, an unecessary power play. All know your house is very strong and affluent, why spill more blood to reinforce something all know to be true.” You said this slowly, choosing your words carefully and hoping to sound more flattering than judgmental and unhappy with the injustice.

His smile dissipated and you could tell this was not the answer he wanted or expected, and a part of you feared the same fate of the Atreides prisoners would befall you. Luckily he seemed to find it humorous and laughed.

“No one has ever told me such an odd thing. Pity for prisoners! Very curious lady y/n, very curious.”

Perhaps he was interested, but you could still see venom where you hurt his pride and aroused his anger. You didn’t miss his arm clutching the sheath of his dagger as he laughed, and the way his smirk was more of a snarl now.

“I do not mean to disdain your traditions, I simply don’t quite understand them.” You said mildly when his laughter had faded.

“It’s alright. I like honesty and I like you too.” His eyes glimmered with malice and charm.

“It is true you have come as a prospective bride, yes?” He said.

“Yes. . . I have brought you a gift” You said, firmly thinking of the kind but worn face you your people as you rehearsed the proposal speech in your head. You motioned for one of your attendants to bring a sachetel with a cluster of flowers inside. You felt less reassured about your gift knowing Feyd’s character but presented it nonetheless.

“This is a heliolaris flower, it blooms yellow even in extreme conditions and without the light of the sun. It will hold its color even through the conditions of your planets black sun. Its species was created specifically for you and Giedi Prime. My planet is minor but we have plants that hold powerful miracles and arable land beyond compare. If you went through with our alliance . . . All of that would be yours too”

He peered inquisitively at the plant. He seemed unsure by the gift and your proposal but it only took a minute before his snake-like manner returned.

“I will plant these flowers. If they bloom in color as you say before the fortnight I will marry you, if not you will surrender your life to the arena that you so seem to despise.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #part two if ppl like this I did it on a whim tbh #dune x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #I gave reader stricter morals and values to contrast and create tension with feyds lack thereof

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kaeddehara · 1 year

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GRINDING — NSFW

albedo + heizou + childe

♱ notes — suggestive themes + a little lazy post + lots of teasing <3 + please enjoy !!

| ALBEDO |

“come on bedo, just take a little break for me”

you pouted as albedo seemed in distress about all the work he currently had piled up at his desk. his left hand threaded through his blonde fringe while the other continued to write.

“in a moment, let me finish my analysis”

you tsked at his words. it’s always “in a moment” with albedo and never something different. you were growing tired of it and only had one solution running through your mind the whole time you watched him work.

after a few minutes, he finally set down his pencil, letting his body fall limp against the back of the chair with a sigh. it was the perfect moment for you to put your plan into play. prancing over to your exhausted boyfriend, you took a much deserved seat atop his lap.

“come on, let me finish my work—“

his frustrated words were quickly cut himself off with a sudden hitch in his throat as he felt you continually shift atop his lap. whatever he was saying soon turned into a soft hum as he tried his best to conceal both of you.

“you never give up do you?”

albedo half whispered next to your ear as you let your eyes run all over the pretty handwriting of his analysis and messy table. you grinded particularly hard down against his crotch in response.

“you deserve it yeah? let me treat you”

“i don’t need a trea—hnng…”

his eyes practically rolled back as he felt your cold fingertips grazing the skin of his thigh under his shorts. such a sensitive area you were oh so familiar with. leaning back onto his chest, you let out a sweet sigh and looked up at your troubled boyfriend. his bangs covering his closed eyes which were fluttering under his sealed eye lids. as if opening them on cue, his gloved hand sat itself snuggly on your waist. his lips brought up to the cuff of your ear, whispering the dirty words so softly,

“bend over my desk for me”

| HEIZOU |

“come on zou, you know i can feel how hard you are”

you teased just right against his lips which as couldn’t keep his eyes off of. fuck, did you always have to tease him like that? it practically drove heizou insane how good you were at teasing him back and shutting him up. as if you both didn’t already know the effect you had on him just with your words, heizou found your hand to be softly following each crevice and line of his torso. his firm chest was tempting you to slip your hand through his thin top to cop a quick feel. his nicely sculpted waist which was perfect in your grasp—so soft yet firm. your fingertips toyed with the hem of his shorts almost like you were egging him on and seeing what move you could make him do next. your hand skimmed the hem of the shorts all the way down to in between his legs which was practically begging for any kind of attention. softly teasing the outline of his bulge through the thick fabric made heizou barley wince as you continued your little game with him. as if you already knew how mesmerizing your touch was to heizou, you quickly removed your hand and placed it back on his shoulder where your other hand laid. you replaced your hips, getting back to the straddling position you held earlier and created subtle, gentle bouncing motion as if to imitate you riding him.

“got you worked up so easily hm?”

your eyes laid half lidded and voice filled with a coy tone that brought heizou to his limit.

“if you’re gonna be a fucking tease all night i’m not gonna be so gentle with you”

“when are you ever gentle?”

he chuckled at your retort as did you before he brought back the serious gaze that had just fled his eyes. he turned his head to fit in the crook of yours before nibbling softly into the skin.

“i’m gonna ruin you if you keep using that tone with me”

the light and lust in your eyes never flicked and grew all the more intense as you tried to think of all the disgusting and outright humiliating things heizou planned to do with you <3.

| CHILDE |

his lap looked so appetizing in that moment, you couldn’t help your eyes from staring.

“need something pretty girl?”

he always was sly with his tongue too, always a smooth talker and knew what to say. you slid your gaze away from him entirely before slowly making your way over to the tired ginger. his eyes never left his paper as he continued to write his report back to the fatui, but you just couldn’t help yourself. being away from your love for so long, it drove you insane. you leaned over his desk, admiring all the documents and rather neat desk he was working at. childe let his dark, blue eyes fall over you momentarily before shifting back to his papers.

“you know if there’s something you want, i’m more than willing to help you out with that”

his tone was so genuine but his words told a different story. he knew what you wanted but was gonna play a long game with you until you caved in. he pushed his chair out and looked up to you as if to welcome you to his lap.

“go on”

you sighed in a relief as you made yourself comfortable on top of his lap.

“now just be good for me while i work” he kissed your cheek before focusing back on his papers. you were satisfied in the least other than being on top of childe, his scent and his warmth already made you feel more at home. you thought that playing a teasing game with childe was the way to go considering his focus was elsewhere. adjusting yourself on his lap and running your hands over his thighs got you no where. childe already knew how badly you wanted him and want to make you beg for it.

“you know, keeping your hands to yourself might be a good option right now”

his words caught you off guard as they were whispered right inside your ear.

“what do you mean ajax?”

that faked innocence in your voice did nothing but drive him even more insane. he was tired of your little game and didn’t was going to get what he wanted from you. you felt a large hand push at your back, leaning you over his desk which was still covered in his important papers. you whined at this feeling, still knowing his frontside was still hard against you.

“you wanted this so bad so go on, grind yourself on me.”

the embarrassment was almost too much to handle as your hips shifted slightly to fill in his request. a low chuckle came from his thought as you continued being so shy with your movements.

“i know you got more in you than that, you wanted this so badly too now you’re acting all shy. am i going to have to do it for you?”

#kaeddehara #genshin smut #albedo smut #heizou smut #childe smut #albedo x reader #albedo genshin impact #heizou x reader #childe x fem!reader #childe x reader #genshin x reader #rumi writing ^•ﻌ•^ฅ #☕️#🗡️

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theresattrpgforthat · 3 months

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Do you have any recommendations for TTRPGs where Body Horror is a central theme or mechanic? Preferably ones where themes like loss of agency or control over one's body are the focus. Thank you!!

THEME: Body Horror (Part 2!)

Hello there, I’m going to start by providing a link to the Body Horror recommendation post I put up back in 2022, before I move on to new recommendations!

Mutant Monster Machine Girls, by babblegumsam.

In MUTANT MONSTER MACHINE GIRLS, you play as a member of "The Girls", a group of queer misfits fighting against an oppressive anarcho-capitalist state ruled by The Corporation.

Each of you fights against them because all your lives have been ruined by The Man Responsible, a dangerous and cruel servant of The Corporation. Because of his actions and the nature of your evolutions, you can no longer return to your previous lives and the people you love.

Your only solution? Exact your ultraviolent revenge on him and bring peace to the city by force!

The Mutant part of Mutant Monster Machine Girls is pretty heavy on the body horror, although I think the other character options certainly have possibilities. Babblegumsam has a fondness for weaving trauma and emotion into many of their works, so you’ll likely find a lot of feelings about exploration and loss in this one. The game system uses a modified PbtA system, which gives you tokens that you can spend to add modifiers to your roll. (This same mechanic can be found in Apocalypse Keys!)

Soul Burner, by World Champ Game Co.

Soul Burner is a standalone tabletop role-playing game of adventuring ashen corpses wandering a volcanic ghostland in service of the gods of fate, protecting the timeline from imminent disaster by manifesting fractured memories to shape the world to their will.

Compatible with Mork Borg and inspired by Necronautilus, this game acts as a bridge between worlds of violent dark fantasy and stoner metal science fantasy.

Soul Burner embeds body horror both into the characters you play and the creatures you come across, using MORK BORG rules and depicting your characters as merely remnants of who they used to be. You will find creatures overgrown by fungi, desperate cannibals, and lava-worshipping cultists in this book, evoking a grim and gritty fantasy setting. Your own characters are ever-changing, morphing and distorting whenever you gain a Reminder - pieces of who you are that give you mechanical advantages in the game.

FLËSHMØG, by Freak Flag Games.

FLËSHMØG: THE FLESH BEGINS TO EXERT ITS WILL UPON ITSELF

mäw of hëck: flëshmøg is a pen & paper body horror character creator. draw your hand, discover your body, and mutate your form.

This isn’t so much a game as it is a character-creation exercise. Using a deck of playing cards, you assemble cards as you randomly draw them to give yourself body parts, strengths, and adaptations according to the world around you. This might be an interesting exercise if you want to come up with a wretched home-brew character for MORK BORG, or if you want to design some kind of horror to pit against your players in another game.

Do Not Fear: In Death We Bloom, by Hella Big Claws.

Do Not Fear is a Forged In the Dark Tabletop Roleplaying game, about accepting the fleetingness of life; and using the strength that gives you in order to combat a growing stagnation.

Fight as a Hunter, a person who has been given a Gift of Bloom; a fungus like infection that allows for incredible strength and regenerative ability; in exchange for subsuming your flesh as you die.

Combat or save the Rusted; living creatures infected by a growing viral stagnation; marbling their bones and rusting their flesh; sculpting them into horrifyingly beautiful creations. Ascend the Tower; a large, multilayered structure which you call home. Interact with the factions and people within, as you set down roots.

As a fungus-infested person, the characters for Do Not Fear feel like prime candidates for body horror. Your characters have accepted that their fate will likely end in death, but only because they must if they are to save the world from a horrible plague. The game is built off of the same system as Blades in the Dark, but I think there’s been some tweaks here and there, because there are teasers to creatures and weapons that indicate hit-points and stats. The character abilities however, look really powerful and exciting. If you are a fan of Bloodborne, Hunter X Hunter, or Technoir, you might like this game.

Mutagenic Hive Swarm, by Atelier Hwei.

Waking up as a transdimensional insectoid reptilian has never been more fun!You are a stone age psychonaut apparently occupying the body of a Transdimensional Insectoid Reptile, a bug.

But who you were is less important than where you are: you must navigate the bloody, alien meatscape of the MUTAGENIC HIVE SWARM and find a way back to the Here & Now… before memories of who or what you fade completely.

Mutagenic Hive Swarm is all about playing bugs who are not really bugs - your characters have found themselves in the bodies of alien creatures, and will need to fight in order to hold onto their sense of self. Much of your character’s skills and effort will be directed towards trying to resist certain influences and changes, so I think the theme of loss of agency really shines through in this game. What you might really like is the d20 table of mutations that can threaten you every time your body changes. If you want a game where your character is more likely going to succumb to their changes than find a way out, you might want to check out Mutagenic Hive Swarm.

Other Games to Check Out

Wasted, by World Champ Game Co.

Bio-Drones & Cryo0Clones, by ChrisAir (for Mothership).

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #body horror

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noxiousgrace · 25 days

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TCF/LCF headcanon

Honestly one of my favourite headcanons i have so far about krs and og!cale is the fact they're both able to draw

I have explanations for both

The reason krs is able to draw:

During the cataclysm, a lot of methods of recording things became very scarce. (We see this during the sealed gods test when krs relies on the abilities of other people to record whatever they'll need for the future. Information about monsters, how to deal with them, etc.)

And I'm assuming electricity relies on ability users as well considering how devastating the cataclysm was to earth. It would be hard to maintain a power plant during the beginning whilst not knowing how to survive in the new ruined world, so charging devices are out of the question. As far as batteries go, they aren't permanent solutions either, and would run out eventually.

And relying on ability users isn't easy either, first of all getting a power specifically needed for this issue is a very rare occurrence and people on earth aren't sure how these abilities are assigned (they do have theories that it's related to the og persons personality, but I haven't seen any confirmations on this. And i haven't finished reading book 2 of lcf so if the answer is a spoiler from that half then correct me if I'm wrong)

And krs received the ability to record everything he sees and to never forget it, he has the perfect opportunity to make physical copies of information and the subsequent imagery. This would make information accessible to everyone else and also raise their chances of survival because they won't be taking blind shots in the dark in intense situations.

There isn't a reason why krs would refuse to learn how to draw and show everyone what to be wary of.

I don't think he would've learnt how to draw as a kid. Doodles before his parents passed away? Definitely. After moving in with his uncle and having to survive the abuse that followed it? Probably not. (But this doesn't negate the fact he could've tried drawing his parents so he wouldn't forget them, but the quality of his work would've upset him and he could've given up on that along with everything else)

Another reason is to have identification of deceased bodies. He remembers everything, and would easily identify any corpse out in the field as long as he'd seen that person before their death.

In case any of their records or pictures got lost krs would make a sketch and they'd frame it and use it if they were capable of holding any funeral or adding the portrait to the tombstone. (I definitely believe making portraits of LSH and CJS definitely hurt him emotionally)

Why og!cale is able to draw

I don't have a very extensive headcanon as to why og!cale can draw, but i find the idea that he doesn't want to forget his mothers face very endearing. Plus he's from an artisan family and would have to be artistic at some level (well, violan is the artistic one since she values sculptures i think, correct me if I'm wrong) so she could've tried teaching him how to draw and sculpt as a way to bond with him and not leave him as an outcast in his own family. (Maybe she saw his earlier sketches and found his frustration in being unable to replicate jours face and decided to give him tips)

And if they do have a big portrait of jour in the house I'd like to think it was painted by cale

#trash of the counts family #lcf #cale henituse #kim rok soo #og cale henituse #tcf headcanon #tcf novel #spoilers #lee soo hyuk #choi jung soo

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multiplicationdivision · 4 months

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Throwing in the Towel

Ever feel lonely at the gym? No partners in your weight class? Theres a simple solution.

Newbies are an excellent source of raw material in modern gyms. Typically young stupid 20 year olds with nothing but envy for the built muscles and skill of their superiors. They’d agree to anything to have it, and being fondled by a larger stronger man was a siren song in of itself for their starved horny little brains. Didn’t hurt that all that excitement made their blood run hot, made it all so much easier to work.

Harrison hadn’t even had to mourn his buddy cancelling last minute on their evening boxing before he was roping in the youngest guys in his gym, summoning them from where they hid aways from the gym. They were a pair of unconfident college kids, but Harrison could fix that. They’d been nothing but gleeful to accept to Harrison’s offer, despite having no idea what his “stretches” entailed. Harrisons demand that they be naked in the locker room had been irresistible for them, probably recalling the start of so many pornos they’d overwatched again and again.

They likely thought they were in one themselves and they weren’t exactly wrong.

It was simple enough to press them together. Their short scrawny bodies were just enough combined to equal Harrison’s own heavy musculature. Harrisons pressed them together like tough clay, their individual bodies resisting the pressure before finally giving, the distinction between their individual body parts giving out over the course of a small eternity as Harrison messaged the tension out of their muscles with his well-practiced technique. Convincing those muscles to bind between each other over his sculpting hands, anchoring them on fusing bones.

Harrison found the entire process quite enjoyable, creating true potential out of nobodies, allowing scrawny men to skip all that treacherous work of muscle aches and gym time so that they could get to the good part immediately. There was the more physical parts of this process that he savored though.

Pressing two chest against his own until their respective person though they would break under the pressure before they let loose a shared gasp as their bodies fit together in one perfectly aligned slip. Harrison wrestling their squirming neuron confused body to the floor as he gave his attention to their waists, torturing the individual components of his little project as he enticed two cocks together without letting them release, bundling together all those sensitive nerves in a way that was surely electric to his new friends and letting it echo between their still separate heads.

He'd quickly move onto their legs, not caring to give them the satisfaction. His eyes were always on the prize and that was getting a few hours of gym time in before heading home. It was just business he always explained to his new friends, knowing that leaving them high and dry would make the coming night all the better. Nothing like multiplied nerves and a bit of boxing to make a man an absolute animal in bed.

They’d understand later, even if they begged in still separate voice for his mercy in let them finish. He shut them up by gripping their skulls and pressing as tight as he could. Watching their heads slowly push together, facial features swimming as their pale skin merged together and the bone compounded. Harrison could watch individual strands of hair join, as two mouths fits together and became one indistinct voice as irises shifted back and forth between colors.

Their separate DNA couldn’t decide what they should look like in this delicate stage, flashing with varying features of every trait possible in their genetic code. If Harrison left them like this, they would eventually balance out, becoming a perfect amalgam of their two parts. He’d done it before countless times and a fair bit of the men who’d frequented this boxing gym were products of such a thing. They’d come out either as a handsome man with merged memories or the two personalities sharing their combined form. He’d seen every variation of it, enjoyed every grateful night from the spectrum of unique fusions he would eventually bring home.

Harrison was in the mood to try something new today.

Sure, combining two men would meld their individual skills and body into one greater whole, but there was always one problem. These newbies never amounted to much skill in the ring to match Harrison’s own, even with their combined competency. These boys had only about 6 weeks of boxing between them and that was nothing before Harrison’s years of the sport.

Harrison had a fix.

Their unstable form would be easy to meddle with and Harrison’s own body was all the more willing to influence. He could grip their shifting body and feel a bit of him merge with it, just enough to pass a trace of dominant information in between them. Siphoning a copy of everything that made Harrison himself into the indistinct man.

It was surprising how simple it was, feeling a version of himself sink into the accepting form. Feeling the connection to himself stretch as this copy of his memories and selfhood settle beside the two minds in the body before him. He could feel in real time how those two minds devoured that copy, integrating all the experience and skills of Harrison into themselves with reckless abandon.

The point he’d griped rippled and darkened with a slight tan, before the color and shape of body that Harrison knew well flowed across this smooth form. Muscle he’d quite literally fought for now replicated out of once soft weak mass, becoming distinct on the locker room floor. A naked man with his handsome face staring back at him with all the glee of his components, his scruffy beard and messy hair just as Harrison had left it that morning. He gave a sassy little flirt to his original, something like “Hey handsome” or “Did we always look so sexy”. Saying the cheesy shit that made it clear that the young men were still under it all, youthful energy filtered through the lens of Harrison’s personality.

He'd quickly gotten them dressed in his backup clothes, tossing them matching sneakers and shorts that he’d bought on the off chance that this fantasy would work. They were his perfect reflection and they knew he enjoyed it, making off comments as if they’d been with him when he’d bought his clothes. Claiming his memories as their own before they took to using his own techniques against him.

Pushing him against the locker room wall in a show of dominance before playing it off as rough housing. Coping a feel in between rounds of perfectly matched fights, knowing full well that they were dangling him off the edge in the same way that he was doing to them. Stealing his phone and keys because “They were his too”, as if they had a claim to every part of Harrison, knowing that such a concept would make his heart race.

Harrison was always in control, but such a thing was impossible now. This copy of himself wielded everything he did under the control of what was clearly still two separate horny little shits, paradoxically utilizing his manipulation with utmost skill despite how blatantly obvious it was. He’d optimistically call them equally matched, but their combined force of personality would likely overcome him.

His mind reeled at how much his body enjoyed that thought. He could feel his double taste the power shift in the air as they wrestled, so far from what was typical for boxing. Identical hands around him that Harrison knew could threaten just as much reality altering force as his own, threatening to change him just as Harrison had done to others his entire life.

In between the bludgeoning of their gloves against each other, Harrison’s mind wandered far. He was at this man’s mercy because he wanted to be and his own cock seemed to push all sense of self preservation aside. He’d given his identity to two reckless college kids and he wanted them to be as irresponsible with it as possible. To do everything he’d done and more.

Today was the only guarantee that they’d still be a pair of twins and lord knows if their number would grow or decrease. Harrison melded with another man at his double’s whims or absorbed into him as if he was nothing but a resource for more gains. Just clay to be sculpted.

Harrison’s twin grinned with all the shit eating danger of uncontained world altering libido and Harrison could only grin in return.

Tonight would be worth the risk and so would every night after.

It was a thrill Harrison could get used to.

#identical #copy #shapeshift #male shapeshift #clones #sharing a body #male merge #merging #my writing #personality change #male tf #male merging #male body merging #clone by conversion

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h-c-u · 2 years

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Mystery of the traveling bruises.

Summary: You always bruised easily, but lately it was becoming excessive. And honestly couldn't trace half of them to anything specific, until one night, the solution to your mystery hits you.

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x fem!reader

W/C: 1.3k

Rating: PG, size difference

TWs: none

A/N: Ice is a giant, strong af teddy bear, who definitely could split logs in half Captain America style, and he just loves the reader so much. Like seriously. It's tooth-rotting <3

Masterlist | List of tags

Ice moved in his sleep. A lot.

It didn't bother you, since you could have slept through the apocalypse. Besides, something else wasn't letting you fall asleep so easily lately.

Even more bruises started magically appearing on different parts of your body. They weren't even that bad and almost never hurt, and since you basically bruised when you stared at a single fragment of skin for too long, you kind of brushed it off. But usually, you were able to trace most of them to a specific moment when they were created, but lately... Well... They were just appearing out of nowhere.

It took you a good four weeks to solve that mystery, and the solution fell into your lap as surprisingly as possible, in a form of a rough wake-up, when you were literally elbowed off the bed. But after the initial shock of such a sudden wake-up disappeared, you just burst into laughter, because the solution to your mystery hit you. Literally. And when you started laughing, Ice also started waking up.

At first, he thought you were crying and got really scared, waking up in an instant, but he quickly realized that you were fine.

- It was you! - you couldn't stop laughing, and it was really hard to accuse someone of such a heinous crime when you couldn't even keep your face straight, still sitting on the floor.

- What...? - even though he was currently fully woken up, his voice was still raspy and sleepy.

- I was trying... - you just couldn't stop laughing at the whole situation, because you were honestly starting to suspect you were getting abducted by aliens who were running some sort of psychological experiment on you. You hid your head in between your knees, trying your best to calm down, but the tears started to appear in the corners of your eyes, and that made you laugh even harder. - I thought it was aliens! Or fairies! Or goblins! Or gods know what! BUT IT WAS YOU!!! - another wave of ugly laughter hit you with such force, that you toppled to the floor. Of course, you didn't really believe that, but the thought crossed your mind.

- What...? - he evidently couldn't grasp what was happening. Did he miss something? Did you lose your mind?

- YOU WERE GIVING ME THE BRUISES!!! - you finally got it out and started laughing even more, if that was possible. Ice was staring at you and blinking like crazy, trying to process exactly what happened, and his brain finally started catching up. He of course noticed the additional bruises because he kissed every single one of them diligently every evening. But since you recently came back to sculpting in stone, and considering the fact that you recently got a dog, he thought that it was because of that... He didn't even think that he might be the source of them. But the reality started to sink in, and his face finally made you sober up and calm down quicker than ever.

- No, no, no, no, no...! It's not your fault, it's ok, I don't blame you! They don't even hurt, you know that! - the speed at which the words were leaving your mouth was at least a little bit impressive.

- But... I hurt you.... - he was still processing that, but when everything clicked, he was next to you in a second. - I'm so, so sorry... - he instantly pulled you into the softest of hugs.

- Tom, I'm fine, it's fine... - you let him lift you from the floor, wrapping your legs around his hips, while one of his arms was supporting your ass and the other landed between your shoulder blades. You loved that he could just do that as if you weren't heavier than a kitten. - I was just analyzing the shit out of them for the last four weeks, and the mystery is finally solved. I'm honestly ok. - you tried to convince him as best as you could, but you just knew that there was a siren howling in his brain, that he somehow hurt you.

- I'm sorry... - he repeated himself, hiding his face in the nook of your neck. - I'm really fucking sorry... I didn't mean to... - his arms were holding you so tenderly, yet you still could feel his tense muscles under his skin.

- I don't accept your apology, because there is nothing to apologize for, Ice. As you've said, you didn't mean it, and it's not like you can control your body in your sleep. We're just gonna have to come up with something. - you smiled. - And before you even say it - if you'll suggest sleeping on the couch, you better mean both of us, together. - you warned him because you could see on his face where his thoughts went.

- Fine... - he was obviously not happy that you were not giving up - or in his mind - you were exposing yourself to more pain. If his colleagues could see him now... Mr. Ice-cold-no-mistakes almost broken by few bruises. - So what do you have in mind...? - he finally asked, and you already had a possible solution in mind.

Since you usually slept on your stomach and you didn't want to change positions...

- I'm gonna be your weighted blanket for now, and we'll go from there... - he smiled, but the concern was still present in his eyes.

- You want to...? - the thought apparently more pleasurable than he thought at first.

- Sleep on top of you, yes. - you didn't even ask him for permission, but you honestly doubted that he would have said no, especially right now.

He only hummed in agreement and you could feel his chest vibrating against your body.

Without letting you go, he climbed back to bed and laid down in his usual spot, but this time with some additional weight on his body.

- Are you comfortable...? - he asked when he covered you both with a duvet.

- Hmmm... Not yet, give me a moment... - right now you were feeling more like a frog doing the splits around his abdomen, so you started adjusting.

First, you've straightened your right leg and placed it in between his, which under different circumstances could have led to something else. Right now though, you were both calming down, and slowly getting sleepy again, so there was no chance for any... additional activities. But who could say what will happen in the future...? You hooked your left leg high over his hip, so you were basically straddling his right side, and that alone was already enough to relieve the pressure on the lower part of your spine, and you couldn't help but stretch a little to give into that feeling. Your left arm fell along his side to the mattress, and you pressed your fingertips just a little bit under his ribs; not enough to cut circulation, but enough to feel a tiny bit of pressure grounding you in that position.

- Your neck is not supported, it will hurt in the morning... - he was the one who noticed that first, and honestly - you were comfortable enough to slip right back into the soft nothingness of sleep. He tried putting a small pillow under your head, but it was too high and would strain your neck even more. And when that didn't work, he placed his forearm there, and your right hand slithered under it, in the open space around his elbow, and both of you hummed in agreement at the same time, apparently finding a perfect position.

- Good night, Ice... - you mumbled against his skin.

- Good night, love... - he whispered and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. - I'm sorry... - he apologized again, and you gave him a warning growl because you were too far gone for words.

It didn't take either of you long to fall asleep, and what was even more important, you woke up without any additional bruises on your body. But after the night of such comfortable sleep, how the hell you were supposed to sleep when he wasn't home...?

#my writing #Top Gun Fanfiction #Tom Kazansky fic #Tom Kazansky x reader #Tom Iceman Kazansky x reader #Tom Iceman Kazansky fanfiction #iceman x reader #📏

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elicathebunny · 8 months

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STRETCH STRETCH STRETCH!

Stretching keeps the muscles flexible, strong, and healthy, and we need that flexibility to maintain a range of motion in the joints. Without it, the muscles shorten and become tight. Then, when you call on the muscles for activity, they are weak and unable to extend all the way. -> HARVARD HEALTH

INNER BENEFITS:

Improved Flexibility: Stretching helps increase the range of motion in your joints and muscles, promoting flexibility. This can enhance your ability to perform everyday activities and maintain proper posture.

Reduced Muscle Tension and Stiffness: Stretching helps release tension in the muscles, reducing stiffness. This is especially beneficial for individuals who may experience muscle tightness due to prolonged periods of sitting or physical inactivity.

Enhanced Circulation: Stretching increases blood flow to the muscles, which helps deliver oxygen and nutrients. Improved circulation contributes to better overall cardiovascular health.

Better Posture: Regular stretching can improve posture by correcting muscle imbalances and reducing the strain on specific areas, such as the neck, shoulders, and lower back.

Prevention of Injuries: Stretching before physical activity can prepare your muscles and joints, reducing the risk of injuries. It promotes better flexibility and helps your body adapt to various movements.

Increased Relaxation: Stretching, particularly when combined with deep breathing, can induce a sense of relaxation and reduce stress. It helps calm the mind and promotes mental well-being.

Enhanced Athletic Performance: Athletes often include stretching as part of their training routine to improve performance. Flexible muscles and joints contribute to better agility, balance, and coordination.

Alleviation of Aches and Pains: Stretching can be beneficial for individuals experiencing muscle discomfort or mild aches. It helps alleviate tension and can provide relief from certain types of pain.

Improved Range of Motion: Regular stretching helps maintain or increase your range of motion, allowing you to move more freely and comfortably.

Mind-Body Connection: Engaging in stretching exercises promotes a mind-body connection. Focusing on your body's movements and sensations can enhance mindfulness and reduce mental stress.

Better Circulation to Joints: Stretching helps improve blood flow to the joints, promoting joint health and flexibility. This can be especially important as you age to maintain mobility.

AESTHETIC BENEFITS:

Improved Posture: Regular stretching can help correct muscular imbalances and promote better posture. As you stand taller and align your body more effectively, your overall appearance may be enhanced.

Longer and Leaner Appearance: Stretching can create a longer and leaner appearance by elongating muscles. This may contribute to a more streamlined and graceful physique.

Reduced Muscle Tension: Stretching helps alleviate muscle tension, which can make your body look and feel more relaxed. Relaxed muscles often contribute to a smoother and more aesthetically pleasing physique.

Enhanced Muscle Definition: By increasing flexibility and range of motion, stretching may enhance muscle definition. Well-stretched muscles can appear more sculpted, especially when combined with strength training exercises.

Improved Circulation and Skin Tone: Stretching promotes better blood circulation, delivering oxygen and nutrients to your skin. This improved blood flow can contribute to a healthier complexion and skin tone.

Prevention of Muscular Imbalances: Stretching can help prevent and address muscular imbalances, ensuring that your body develops proportionally. Balanced muscle development contributes to a more aesthetically pleasing physique.

Reduced Appearance of Cellulite: While not a direct solution, regular stretching may help improve blood circulation and reduce the appearance of cellulite in some individuals.

Enhanced Flexibility for Functional Movements: Improved flexibility from stretching can make functional movements more graceful. This increased ease of movement can contribute to an overall more aesthetically pleasing appearance.

Relaxed Facial Expressions: Stretching, especially when combined with relaxation techniques, can contribute to a more relaxed facial expression. This can positively impact how others perceive your overall demeanour.

Elongated Muscles: Consistent stretching can give your muscles an elongated appearance, contributing to a more elegant and refined look.

PILATES, YOGA AND TAI CHI.

Pilates, yoga, and Tai Chi are three mind-body practices that offer numerous physical and mental benefits. While they share some similarities, each has it's unique principles, techniques, and focuses.

Pilates:

Focus: Pilates emphasizes core strength, flexibility, and overall body awareness.

Principles: Controlled and precise movements, breath control, and a focus on the core muscles.

Equipment: Pilates can be done on a mat or with specialised equipment like the reformer, Cadillac, and chair.

Benefits: Improved core strength, flexibility, posture, and muscular balance. It also enhances body awareness and can be beneficial for rehabilitation.

Yoga:

Focus: Yoga integrates physical postures, breath control, meditation, and ethical principles for holistic well-being.

Principles: Asanas (physical postures), pranayama (breath control), meditation, and the philosophy of mindfulness.

Styles: Various styles such as Hatha, Vinyasa, Ashtanga, and Kundalini offer different approaches to yoga practice.

Benefits: Increased flexibility, improved strength, stress reduction, enhanced mental clarity, and a sense of inner peace. Yoga is also known for its adaptability to different fitness levels.

Tai Chi:

Focus: Tai Chi, often referred to as "meditation in motion," is a martial art that combines slow, flowing movements with deep breathing.

Principles: Gentle and continuous movements, focused breathwork, and mindfulness.

Forms: Tai Chi involves practising specific sequences of movements or forms.

Benefits: Improved balance, flexibility, coordination, and relaxation. It is often recommended for fall prevention and is associated with stress reduction and enhanced mental well-being.

age gracefully!!!

#self improvement #age gracefully #innerstrength #inner peace #stretching #posture #exercise #work out #mental health #healing #let go

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byloesstuff · 8 months

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gnaws at the bars of my enclosure here's some sally face headcanons because i'm so normal trust!!

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sal fisher

-probably had gums or mints on him constantly, he has to constantly smell his breath in his mask so he keeps it fresh as much as he can.

-has definitely used sharpie on his nails before, stopped after ashley got him nail polish for his birthday one year and hasn't gone back.

-sal is so definitely a scab picker, larry probably yells at him when he catches him picking at scabs when they hang out, he's looking out for his friend and doesn't want it to become a bad habit.

-sal has a few extra face masks his friends designed individually for him, some of them just being painted on or sculpted, one of them was just covered in stickers, he loves all of them and has them up in his room.

-has caught his own cat playing with his fake eye more than once when he couldn't find it in the morning, those mornings it did happen he would have to wash it off before soaking it in solution for a while, sometimes going to school without it, after the second time, he got replacement eyes for when that happened.

-tried an edible once with larry and freaked the fuck out and hasn't tried them since, larry still feels bad seeing him in that state (larry had to babysit him that night)

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larry johnson

-i can't decide whether he bites his nails or he has long healthy nails and clips them weekly, they both work🤷‍♀️

-has almost shit himself at one of the sleepovers where sal slept with his mask off, he turned over as he woke up taking a moment to remember who was next to him since he's used to seeing his mask 😭

-always wanted a cat growing up but his mother was super allergic so whenever he's at sal's he's loving up on gizmo and ofc gizmo loves the attention.

-he loves being a canvas for ashley's makeup practice not to mention the cursed pictures they have gotten while the makeup process happened.

-he wanted to learn guitar but did not have a single musical bone in his body to actually play instruments, so sal started learning guitar for him (larry is so tone deaf it's so funny when he tries singing along to ashley's music which consists of musical soundtracks).

-he's such a pin and bottle cap collector, he has jars of them, ashley and maple also got him into tiny living and started collecting small furniture and little things.

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what characters or specific head canons would you like to see next?!

#sally face #sal fisher #larry face #larry johnson #headcanon #sally face headcanons #sal fisher headcanons #larry johnson headcanons #sally face fandom #sanitys fall #Spotify

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sunflowerreid · 1 year

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Worth the wait - S.R

Spencer has never had an orgasm before, reader helps him out

Warnings : Sub Spencer, Dom reader, Handjob, Blowjob, Masterbation, Praise kink, Swearing

Spencer had always been a mystery to you. The extraordinary genius with the IQ of 187, eidetic memory and ability to read god knows how many words per minute. There was nothing he couldn’t figure out or find a solution to, it was that simple. He was a genius, a prodigy, a miracle worker. You never would of guessed that this beautiful man was still a virgin, sure he seemed innocent enough but not that innocent, I mean come on, he was gorgeous and adorably caring who wouldn’t want to ride him for hours on end.

You’ve always had a slight feeling that he may of been more innocent than you had predicted especially when you wore a low cut top that showed just the right amount of cleavage to remain professional, or your tight trousers that sculpted your arse perfectly. Spencer was normally a lot more blushy and twitchy than usual on those days, you loved teasing him.

Today you decided to treat yourself, dressed in your black low cut top and tight grey trousers you strutted into work, armed with two cups of coffee from the local cafe and a proud smirk. Spencer was in his usual outfit looking as cute as ever, his fingers resting on his lips as he worked through his paperwork at his usual 60 mph speed. “Morning Spence” you said with a hint of amusement, ready for when his adorable eyes would predictably widen at your outfit choice. “Morning y/n” he said shyly as he squirmed in his seat, his eyes widening slightly as you leaned down to place his cup on the unusually clean desk. “T-thank you, you didn’t have to do that”, could he get any cuter you thought to yourself. “No problem Spence always got you covered” you smirked as you walked away over to your desk, you had the perfect view of him from across the bureau as he fidgeted in his seat.

All day you’d spent stalking him, well not stalking per say more observing his every move to see if you had your usual effect on him. Spencer had a new record going, he made it all the way to lunch time before he ran off to the bathroom, presumably to cool off. He returned to his seat next to you for lunch, resuming his stiff posture and blushing cheeks. You loved your job for many reasons, this just happened to be the best one.

-Three days later-

“Do you want to shower first Spence?” You asked as you opened the door to your shared room, “No that’s okay you can go first” he said kindly as he followed you in. God he couldn’t get any sweeter could he. “Alright I wont be too long” you replied with a smile as you went into the attached bathroom, accidentally forgetting your body lotion and only noticing after spending 10 minutes in the shower. Dripping wet with a small towel wrapped around your flushed figure, you slowly opened the door a crack noticing the pretty boy waiting patiently on his bed. “Spence could you get my body lotion out of my bag please I forgot it” you asked sweetly startling him out of his daydream. “Y-yes of course y/n” quickly jumping off the bed, he made his way over to your bag, gently rooting through it trying not to unravel your neat packing. He stiffened slightly as he reached the layer containing your white lace panties, gaining his usual blush and nervous stutter as he reached the bottom of your bag grabbing the lotion and hurrying over to the door to hand it to you. “Thank you sweetie”.

Spencer squirmed on his bed, the intense throbbing in his slacks clouding his thoughts as he palmed himself slightly, sighing in relief at the blissful friction. Unfortunately for him, you had chosen that moment to open the bathroom door dressed in an oversized t shirt and the black lace panties that matched the white pair. Spencer quickly took his hand off his bulge praying you didn’t notice the dumb pleasure filled look on his beet red face. “Showers free sweetie” you said with a hint of amusement as he scurried around the room collecting his things before rushing into the bathroom. You lied down on your bed attempting to untuck the hotel sheets that were practically glued to the mattress fidgeting around for a few minutes before giving up. Your internal struggle had masked the whimpering noises coming from the bathroom, little grunts and moans “cmon please just once just once please” you heard Spencer whisper as you approached the door “please I need it please cmon cmon” he whimpered in a desperate tone before you heard a loud groan of frustration. Spencer was touching himself that much was obvious to you but the frustration was surprising, normally wanking was a therapeutic, relaxing a way of relieving stress. “You okay sweetie?” You shouted when you had returned to your bed, not wanting him to know you’d been listening. You heard what you assumed was a shampoo bottle crashing against the bottom of the shower before a simple, squeaky “Yep everything’s fine”. Silence followed for another 5 minutes before Spencer shyly opened the door dressed in a pair of tartan pyjama bottoms and a simple black t shirt, quickly making his way over to the bed before untucking the sheets effortlessly. Show off.

The room was silent after you turned off the lights and said an awkward good night to each other. You couldn’t help feeling sorry for him as he tossed and turned quietly, he was a 23 year old man of course he got horny, you’d been teasing him non stop since you arrived at the bau sending his hormones haywire what did you expect. “If you want some time to sort yourself I can go to Garcia’s room for a little bit sweetie” you whispered into the dark room. “N-no that’s okay y/n, I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed, I’m sorry for earlier I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” he said shyly, “Nonsense sweetie you have needs like the rest of us”, receiving a small sarcastic laugh from him you could tell he was embarrassed, of course he was he’d been caught wanking himself off, reaching the same miserable conclusion that he normally got. You knew something was off, normally he’d been throwing facts and statistics at you, his way of coping when he’s nervous. “I promise it’s no trouble Spence” “T-thank you y/n it’s okay, I’m okay, not like it would solve anything anyway” he whispered, the end barley audible. “Sweetie I thought you of all people would know the benefit of masturbating” you said teasingly, “O-oh I’m aware of the benefits if you can achieve-” he cleared his throat slightly before carrying on “an orgasm” he whispered shyly. “If?” You questioned. “Spence have you never… you know?” You asked him gently no wanting to embarrass him further. “Um I mean.. I’ve tried I guess but no not while i was awake anyway”, “Oh sweetie that’s okay, nothing to be embarrassed about” you reassured. You couldn’t feeling both horny and sympathetic at the same time, imagining him trying and trying to cum the desperation he must feel to experience the relief that practically everyone else his age can, including you.

You finally gained enough courage to ask him the question, if he rejected you that would be okay right? You’d get over it but you couldn’t help feeling that he liked you the same way you like him. “Spence if you’d like some help all you have to do is ask”, “R-really?”, “Yes sweetie if you’d like that” you could hear the sheets of his bed rustling as he leant over to turn the lights back on, revealing his blushed face, his desperation clear as day as you sat up leaning against the headboard. “Please, please help me”. That was all the conformation you needed.

Signalling him over, he quickly untangled himself from the sheets quickly making his way over to you, unsure what to do next. You sat up onto your knees reaching for him as you tangled your hand into his damp hair and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. “Fuck please” he whimpered into the kiss as he straddled your thighs, his excitement pushing against you and he began gently rutting himself down onto you, encouraged by your other hand guiding his movements. You figured he had been teased enough when you felt his cock beginning to twitch under his pyjamas, constant whimpers flowed out of him as you guided him down to lie on his back, his cock tenting the material of his bottoms. “Please please do something y/n it hurts” he whined before gasping in relief as you pulled down his pyjamas and boxers at the same time, his cock springing up and hitting his tummy with a wet slap. “Fuck so pretty for me sweetie”, his cock twitched at your words, red, throbbing and leaking a steady flow of precum from the tip. You quickly took it into your hand, pumping him slowly from base to tip your hand slicked up as more precum spurted out of his slit as you pinched it open slightly “Fuck yes” he shouted, the relief evident on his face as you began to speed up your hand, moans flowing out of him after every passing of your palm. “Please yes fuck feels so good s’good more please more” Spencer babbled as he throbbed in your palm, “More, need more, please, please y/n, god yes feels so good, right there” he whined as you teased him red, swollen tip. “Feels so much better than my hand, please keep going please, wanna cum for you, need to cum” he begged as he felt his orgasm teasing him, the same feeling he always left with after trying and failing to cum by himself. You could tell he was getting close, his loud moans turning frantic, the erratic rutting of his hips as he humped up towards your hand. His eyes began to roll back into his head, his back arching before the pleasure stopped. “NO please no y/n, please keep going i need it please” he begged, tears streaming down his face as you took your hand off.

“Calm down sweetie its okay, I’m gonna give you something better okay sweetheart” you reassured him before replacing your hand with your mouth, his hands immediately went to your hair holding on for dear life. “Fuck yes” Spencer moaned as your tongue traced the veins on the side of his cock moving up to tease his slit before you put his tip into your mouth sucking gently “GOD YES” he screamed as you moaned, the vibrations causing him to shake, twitch, beg. “Fuck something’s happening, wait wait” he whined as he tried to push your head off, “Please y/n think mgonna wee feels like its gonna happen please no no” he begged as you carried on aware of what was about to happen, before pulling off “It’s okay sweetie your gonna cum for me okay that’s what it feels like don’t be worried I’m right here, let go for me sweetie okay”, “Fuck yes, gonna mgonna cum y/n, so close, please don’t stop, please mgonna gonna…..�� he screamed as his back arched, eyes rolled back, reaching his end, finally after years of trying and failing he was cumming. “Yes god yes m’cumming y/n” he shouted as he spurted rope after rope of cum onto your tongue, cock twitching relentlessly as you milked him for all he was worth. “Fuckk” he moaned, his entire body twitching as you held him in your arms allowing him to recover from his high. “Hope that was worth it sweetie” you said gently to the a nearly asleep Spencer. “Was definitely worth the wait” he gently muttered into your neck as you stroked his hair and rubbed up and down his back, the calming actions sending him to sleep.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #sub!spencer #sub!spencer reid #sub spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut

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eatmangoesnekkid · 11 months

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You must water yourself and feed the tissues in your body with the light from your thoughts, perceptions, nutrition, to the things you watch, listen to, and read. This doesn't mean that you try to escape the tragedies of the external world. It does mean that you understand that your body responds to your own love and care more than anything else. Daily care and aftercare are essential during times of war and peace. As we sit with the paradox and nuance of being human and our predatory animal nature to take, pillage, and harm, we must show up for it all, including caring for our bodies. Your body responds to your daydreams, thoughts, and touch. When you touch your body, let your heart be as light as a feather...as much as possible. The light in your hands sculpt, shape, and heal your body. I told my friend the other day that my breasts sit up the way that they at 47 years old because of how much love I have given them over the last 15 years, how much I take time and care with my body, how often I lay back and just listen. So many of us with breasts carry burdens in our bodies year after year. God needs us to transmute all the shame, tension, anger, repression, embarrassment, and fear so that we can access more of our divine nature to help evolve this world by channeling raw and uncommon solutions.

Because if the voting and marching were working, we would be not be where we are in the world today. I still bow to my sisters and brothers who are on the front lines. But what I also know to be true is that we must take time to detox in order to recalibrate the hate, repression, shame, and war living in our epigenetic line that continue to create war in our bodies--the diabetes, cancer, chronic jealousy, womb aches, breasts ache, lack of sensation, and lack of full-body orgasms, and also the molestation and scarcity in the family line. These entities. We can't continue to "take in" and not let out.

Bringing More Love to Your body Changes the World Around You and Opens Up More Pathways to Love and Loving

When you live "spirituality" as a lifestyle, more of your DNA unlocks open. When there is high emotion in the collective, I transfer that energy into self-care--bathing, skin care, making good food, listening to good music, resting and caring for who and what is around me. I made a bone broth chicken soup and brought some to my massage therapist. I know what's happening in the world but I'm not constantly attuned to it in the 3D, meme after meme, news story after news story. I'm living life that around me and praying for those who are fighting for their actual lives. I do not take for granted what it means to have more freedom.

Shifting my focus in various ways over the years has kept my body more nourished and youthful than what it would have been otherwise. I priortise sweating often, lik in a dry Finnish sauna, wet sauna, or sweating while working out in high intensity classes. I have no goal to stay younger-looking. I love being grown AF. It is merely what naturally happens when we take care ourselves (our cells) and release, release, release. When we release, our tissues let go and bodies respond favorably. Our care creates the conditions that allow our bodies to flourish in ways in which we beautifully and radiantly age, but we don't age as quickly. -India Ame'ye, Author

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mischiefmaker615 · 21 days

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Ghost (Loki Love Story) Ch. 19

Note: Out of context (ish) photo but i'm not complaining LOL

“L-Loki-‘’ you stammer, scooting up the bed as you raised yourself to your elbows, watching the god stand steady at the foot of the bed.

Loki’s eyes were still blow, smelled lightly of booze and his balance could shift every now and again if you were paying attention; but nothing on this earth could rip him away from this moment. “I’ve been patient darling, truly. But you have teased me for far to long, and tonight I have tasted you. Denying me is nearly impossible from where we find ourselves now..’’

He breathed and raised a hand to loosen his tie. Could he magic it away? Sure. But by the way her eyes followed his hands, he knew she wanted to watch- whether she admitted it or not.

‘’Loki we.. we were drunk-‘’

‘’you are not nearly as intoxicated as I am darling. Which is why tonight I will be gentle and focus on you and you alone.’’ He spoke firmly, already removing his jacket from his shoulders before he began rolling his sleeves up his forearms- his eyes running up from your heels, to where your chest rose and fell while your eyes looked around for any solution.

Kind of.

‘’we s-should-‘’

‘’wait until we’re sober? That just shows you are wanting this one way or another.’’ He whispered, leaning down as he rested with one knee on the bed, his weight following on one of his hands against the mattress while the other reached and took hold of your ankle. ‘’I want you to tell me to stop darling, if that is what you want.’’ He said slowly, his eye contact holding yours while he slid you closer to him by your ankle.

Your eyes were wide, head a little woozy from your own share of booze and pressure between your legs since your kiss during the dance. You feel your heart racing, your mind trying to find of any reason why you would stop this.

There was none.

By your silence, Loki kept his movements slow, ready to stop if you so much as breathed the word. His slender fingers worked at the strap of your shoe, a hand supporting your ankle while his other slid the heeled shoe off your dainty feet. Leaning down, he held your eye contact while he placed a feather kiss against your ankle before his hand set it down and took hold of the other, repeating the action.

As much as you felt your cheeks redden, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. As if you were in a trance of some sort while you watched him now bring himself onto the bed, crawling slowly towards you with his chest straining the buttons of his shirt and his buckle calling out your name to undo it.

‘’like what you see pet?”

The new nickname had your breath hitch as your eyes flicked up to his, seeing how he now raised himself to kneel before you, a knee on either side of your thighs while his hands raised to the top of his shirt. Your eyes stayed on his fingers as one by one, he undid his buttons while more and more of his toned chest revealed itself, down to his abs. your eyes traveled back up as he removed the shirt entirely, his shoulders sculpted and somehow making your mouth water before you pulled your eyes away.

You’ve seen him before, but why did this feel different? Everything looks more beautiful.. sensitive and your fingers gripped the sheets below you tightly as a wave to want to touch washed over you.

‘’relax darling, breath and let me take care of you..’’ he whispered, his eyes having softened as he enjoyed your shy responses before you felt light pressure at your chest.

As soon as you moved your eyes down as to why, a ripe was heard and saw him tear your dress open right down the middle. A gasp left your lips, the new temperature hitting your skin as your chest straining in your black bra while his eyes traveled down to your matching lace panties.

‘’your first day.. finally able to dress yourself.. and you choose these darling.. it was almost as if you were begging for my attention..’’ he smirked, his hands on either side of you as while his body hovered above yours.

His eyes held yours for a moment, how you blushed and bit your lip nervously but made no move to stop him. with shaky hands, you rose them up and ran them over his strong shoulders, feeling how smooth and cold his skin was.

His eyes closed, exhaling a held breath as he took in the sensation of your touch. Your hands felt the muscles of his back, as much as you could reach before moving them over his shoulders again and down his chest, your eyes following your fingertips as the pressure between your legs built. He was perfect.. sculpted practically by angels and smelled heavenly of pine and masculinity.

As your eyes moved back up to his, you sat up on your elbows to bring your nose up to brush against his. He looked at you through his half-lidded eyes, his breath gently stroking your skin before he leaned down and captured your lips.

You let yourself moan in his mouth, pushing your head up a bit more as you could to deepen the kiss while he licked at your bottom lip for entrance. This kiss seemed different- more confident, loving and at the same time demanding as you gave him what he wanted. His tongue instantly took over yours, rubbing and exploring before he drew back slowly, leaving you both panting as your body shivered in anticipation.

‘’relax darling.. I’ve got you..’’ he whispered softly, earning a small nod of trust from him as he moved his body a bit lower. Flashing a small mischievous smile, he dipped his head down and kissed your cleavage, humming against your globes as he buried his face in your clothed breasts before his lips traveled lower.

Your skin was so soft against him, delicate and everything he imaged and longed for.. and more. But he was going to leave you wanting. He needed to leave some urge after tonight, which is why despite how his body screamed to ravage you, he left your chest alone and clothed. He left no room for you to complain though, hovering just above your sacred area while he slowly dragged his finger tips lightly against the outer part of your thighs.

‘’you’ll be crawling to me in no time darling.. but who am I to leave you to suffer.. I will give you this as a thank you..’’ his lips murmured against your skin, leaving open mouth kisses to the inner part of your thighs that shook on either side of his head.

‘’t-thank you for what?” you stuttered, your mind losing itself to his touch as you sat back and fluttered your eyes closed.

‘’for choosing me.’’ He whispered and as your lips parted to reply, he flicked his tongue out and instantly found your clit through your panties.

You flinched a little with a gasp, being hyper sensitive by pretty much the foreplay all night, you wanted to shut your legs but he kept his firm hands at your thighs to keep them apart. Practically hearing his smirk, he began stroking the tip of his nose against your clit through your panties, rubbing and nudging that began to build up pressure in your pelvis.

‘’L-Loki..’’ you breathed, your eyes squeezed shut as you bit your bottom lip, fingers squeezing at the sheets as you shifted and twitched before you felt his fingers curl at your hips, feeling how he gripped your panties.

‘’I know darling I know.. I’ll take care of you..’’ he cooed, seeing how needy you squirmed as he slowly pulled your panties off and tossed them aside.

You could hear his moan clear as day as you squeezed your eyes shut, shyness mixed with desperate pleasure battling it out as you could feel his breath gently hitting your cunt. The way his fingers curling against your skin and how his body tensed showed obvious restraint on himself or else there was no doubt of him diving right in like an animal.

A beast.

With patience from the gods, Loki dipped his head down and ran his tongue flat against your cunt, a low hum leaving his lips and the sweet and salty taste before he went in for more. A gasp left your lips while your back arched, feeling his tongue lap at you while his fingers spread your folds to focus on what matters most. Your fingers white knuckled the sheets below you, feeling the building pressure get more and more intense.

you could feel Loki move his lips to your clit, suckling at the swollen bud while now and against flicking his tongue against it that would have you jerk and tighten your thighs around his head. He smirked against you, drinking every reaction he pulled from you eagerly as he enjoyed the taste you gave him. he could hear you beginning to pant, a hand moving desperately to grasp his hair and you tangled your fingers into it.

A low growl left his lips at the mild grip, sending vibrations through you and against your clit that had you squirming against him. he held you with little effort- there was nothing that could tear him away. He then moved a little lower before he suddenly began to plunge his tongue into your center, tongue fucking you until you had both your hands now in his hair, panting and moaning his name while your head thrashed side to side.

‘’Lokiiii..’’ you moan out, grasping his hair to keep his head there, not at all wanting him to stop and he had the same intentions as his movements quickened.

The way his hands caressed your thighs was enough to tell you he was encouraging you to cum, there he didn’t plan to stop, that he loved this. You withered and felt him raise his head a little to attack your clit again, stroking and sucking before he suddenly slipped a single digit in up to his knuckle.

That single movement that rubbed against your special spot was enough before you fell off that sweet cliff of pleasure. Your walls fluttered and milked his finger with a vise grip, your thighs gripping his head while your back arched and you practically screamed his name. you had a death grip on him to keep him there, your body pulsing and throbbing as his finger slid in and out slowly while his tongue lapped your clit in slow strokes, helping you down from your high as you panted and your body slowly released him as he slowed to a stop.

Raising his head finally, still having a bit of your essence on his nose, chin and lips, he panted while grinning like a school boy. You didn’t even have enough strength to prop yourself up as your eyes closed and your head fell back to the pillow. You felt the mattress shift around before you fluttered your eyes open to see Loki hovering above you, panting with the same grip as the bulge in his pants pressed down against your pelvis- splitting your attention.

‘’that.. was amazing darling..’’ he breathed, a hand moving up to caress your cheek and you turned to let him cradle your cheek while you smiled.

‘’I wonder how exactly did you earn your title, Silver Tongue.’’ You lightly tease, causing him to chuckle before he moved his hand back to the side of your shoulder to better support his weight.

‘’you are absolutely incredible darling..’’ he whispered, surprising you with no follow up come back as you noticed his arms beginning to shake ever so slightly.

‘’Loki.. are you alright?” you asked quietly, hands moving to grip his shoulders before his eyes began to flutter.

‘’never better darling.. ready for round t-‘’ his words were cut off, his body having half fallen onto yours as a leg seemed to hold on of yours down, his body holding one half of yours to the mattress and his face buried at the crook of your neck- arm stretched over your body with his fingers curled gently in your wing.

Pinned.

‘’..Loki?” you whispered, trying to move him off of you but his weight was incredibly.. there. Your body shivered, how his fingers curled ever so slightly into your feathers, almost feeling overly sensitive as if he were caressing your.. well.. you know.

“Loki?”

No answer. In fact, you heard the gentle breathing that indicated you were asleep. With a small sigh, you knew he wasn’t going to get off you any time soon. It was just hard to convince yourself to sleep as well when now and again his cock would twitch- that rested right between your legs with the worlds thinnest pants ever and the buckle pressing into your stomach. It wasn’t.. uncomfortable.. but he was most likely going to get more sleep than you were as you shut your eyes with your remaining blush..

And fell asleep.

Tag List: @violethaze @fire-in-her-veinz

#loki x reader smut #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki fluff #lokifluff #loki #loki smut #loki laufeyson

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jakelandryshorts · 1 year

Text

A Run around the Track

[AI Art created by Jammer (First Image, Second Image)]

“C’mon Rob! You keep complaining how coach wants you bigger. I think I have the solution!” Alex said in an overly chipper voice.

“You were just supposed to help me study,” Rob growled at his tutor. He didn’t understand why Alex would have wanted to meet him around the college track. But it quickly started to make sense. “Or are you just trying to get a chance to watch me workout?”

Alex’s tilted his head with a devious smile. “No…” He lied. Both of them knew it. Alex had been watching Rob like a hawk every single time they were would go to the library. His eyes would trace Rob’s body every chance that they got. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

Rob’s eyes narrowed. “Where’d you even get this stuff?” The container wasn’t labeled, and it looked like a generic protein powder.

“Online. Everyone who reviewed it said it had amazing results!” Alex answered. He was already scooping the powder into a shaker bottle. Then added water to it. The substance dissolved instantly, making it look like it was just water again. Alex stuck out his arm. “Here!”

Rob stared at it skeptically. “Is it safe?”

Alex shrugged.

“YOU DON’T KNOW IF IT’S SAFE!?” Rob shouted. A few people walking the track looked over at them. Rob slapped his face. “You have to be kidding me…”

“I don’t know… How bad could it be?” Alex said. “What’s the worst that could happen? You get a protein powder that doesn’t do anything? Isn’t that normal?” He shook the bottle. “Come on… People said they see results after a few minutes.”

“Fine…” Rob snatched the shaker bottle out of Alex’s hand. He was tired of Coach Albarn saying he wasn’t putting enough effort out on the field. Like Alex said, ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’ Rob downed the drink.

Alex stared at him skeptically. “Anything yet?” Rob shook his head no. “I think they said that you have to build up a little bit of a sweat…”

“If this doesn’t work,” Rob stuck a finger in Alex’s face, “you’re doing all my homework. Got it?”

“Got it!” Alex squeaked.

Rob started off for a bit of a jog. It was just a standard warm up. However, even as he rounded the first bend of his first lap, he could feel sweat starting to drip down his brow. His heart was beating faster and there was this odd sensation running through his body. Rob powered through. There was no way a something could work that fast.

Then there was this odd feeling with his shirt. ‘It’s just the sweat,’ Rob reasoned as it clung to his chest a little more than usual. He could really feel the wetness running down his chest and back. Whatever this was, really made him sweat. Even he could smell the musk wafting off of him as he ran.

As he rounded the second bend, now his shoes were feeling tight. ‘There’s no way…’ Rob thought to himself. Had he really been growing? It didn’t make sense. Maybe a rock just got into his shoe or maybe he accidently picked up the wrong pair or one of his friends was playing a prank on him.

Rob finished his jog in front of Alex. “How’s that?” Alex didn’t answer. His mouth just hung open in shock. “What?”

“You—you got bigger…” Alex stammered.

“Huh?” Rob looked down at him in confusion. There was no way. That was barely even a few minutes of light jogging. It didn’t make sense, though as he looked down at Alex, there was a clear noticeable difference. At 6’1” he’d always been a bit taller than the other man, but now Alex barely came past his shoulders. “No way!”

“Yes way!” Alex cheered. He clearly loved looking at the bigger jock right now. There was so much more to gawk at. Now Rob’s shirt was starting to rise up and show off the bottom layer of his abs. His biceps looked so swollen that he would have a hard time finding anything that had sleeves. He’d probably have to get custom made pants to properly fit his enormous, but perfectly sculpted ass.

“This is--!” Rob let out a grunt. His body seemed to have collapsed in on itself. Every muscle was flexing.

“Rob?” Alex asked.

Rob couldn’t respond. Only grunts came out of him as he felt his heart absolutely racing. Each and everyone of his muscles felt as though they were on fire. It was all at once too. He clenched his chest. Veins bulged out of his skin. And he started to grow.

It was a sudden burst of power flowing through him. His athletic body was rapidly doubling in size. Muscles grew at an unprecedented rate as he writhed under the weird feeling. The sleeveless shirt didn’t stand a chance. His widening back and chest ballooning out in front of him made the XL sized shirt look almost kid sized. It was the same with his shoes as his toes pushed out of them. Then crushed the remnants of the shoe’s soles.

“F-uck… F-uck…” Rob panted as he slowly regained control over his body. He looked down at his massive mitts for hands. Then quickly realized just how much further down the ground was from him. Getting a look at Alex, the other man barely came above his waist.

“R-Rob?” Alex stammered. “How are you feeling?”

Rob huffed out a few more deep breaths. A new emotion was emerging. He couldn’t understand it. He didn’t answer Alex. Instead, he picked up the small man by the collar and started carrying him.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it’d make you this big! I thought it’d just make you a little bit bigger!” Alex squirmed in the giant’s grasp.

Still, Rob didn’t say anything. He ducked under the doors and went into the empty locker room. He held Alex up against the wall. Then kissed him. Once the confusion disappeared, Alex was happy to reciprocate. Their tongues wrestled as Rob held Alex up against the wall.

Alex’s hands happily roamed around the unbelievably hard muscles of the hulking giant. He squeezed Rob’s pecs and traced the outlines of his hard muscles. All the while, Rob’s hands were quickly finding their way into Alex’s shorts. A finger popped into Alex’s asshole.

“Ahhhhh…” Alex moaned as he broke off from the kiss.

“You like that?” Rob moaned. His finger continued to wiggle around, tickling the other man’s insides. “Huh? You like making me into this big hulking monster?” Alex couldn’t respond. His mind was all over the place in a lustful haze. His little hands squeezed against Rob’s body for support before finally giving up.

Alex’s body jerked. A wet stain started to form in his underwear and bleed through to his shorts. He rested his head on the massive chest before him, taking in all of the other man’s musk.

Rob let out a frustrated grunt as he set Alex back down. The little guy continued to cling to him. His body rubbed up against the massive cock still straining Rob’s shorts. Alex took his own initiative as he lowered the hulking man’s shorts.

“At least no one can say you aren’t big enough…” he smirked as he used both his hands to properly jerk off his giant.

(More Stories on my Wordpress)

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