#but that makes no sense w the whole button-up thing

[ar-mage-ddon]

wanted to do an outfit deconstruction of the default style for fun which i guess doubles as a ref sheet

[mainfaggot]

today I put on a different mask and it felt better than the usual

[teamatsumu]

purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)

summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).

word count: 3450

warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp

You weren’t exactly an artistic person.

You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.

Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.

What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.

Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.

After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.

You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.

Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.

As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.

“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.

“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.

“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.

You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.

“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.

The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.

Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.

He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.

“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.

Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.

Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.

Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.

He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.

“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.

His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.

“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.

“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.

“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.

“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”

The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.

His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.

And oh, did you receive it.

Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.

“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.

(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)

“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.

“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”

He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.

His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.

He was a vision.

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.

“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.

You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.

Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.

“Stop me if you can’t take it.”

You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.

Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.

You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.

You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.

Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.

Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.

“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.

“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.

You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.

“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”

Aaaaaand the urge was gone.

You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not more than you.”

He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.

[oceansblvds]

closer ; coriolanus snow

pairing ; coriolanus snow x reader

words ; 3.4k

about ; you and coriolanus have never exactly gotten along, and all of that boils over at a party you're hosting. based off of this request.

warning(s) ; smut, fingering, p in v sex, not edited, mentions of choking someone out (lol)

authors note ; please feel free to request fics or headcanons or blurbs! i hope u enjoy :) kinda got carried away with this one.

Coriolanus was, for lack of a better word, obsessive. 

He was obsessive in the things that he did, the people he saw, the way he dressed, he was obsessive to the point that anyone who had even a glance as to what he was thinking would think that he was insane. It was no way to live, but the spiny, tingly feeling that rose up his spine when he felt the obsession for yet another thing growing was enough to keep him tethered in his ways. He’s a reserved, meticulous man who never let himself be seen as anything other than such, no one had ever seen him make one mistake, not since he was a young child. He was erratic, cold and calculated all at the same time. He didn’t like when things didn’t go his way, and he certainly didn’t like when he felt that someone was trying to best him. 

And that’s what you seemed to do, try to best him. All the time, you would walk into a room and all eyes would turn to you instead of him. You always had a way with your words, speaking to the hearts of people and reminding them that you were the Academy’s darling. It made him sick to his stomach, the knot twisting into a more convoluted mess within his gut until he wanted to throw up what little he had to eat that day. He had never felt this way about someone before, whatever it was, and he didn’t like it, not one bit. With you, he felt as if he had no control. With you, people didn’t fall under his spell. 

The party bustled all around, the lavish hall that it was situated in being filled with the noises of mentors and peers alike, all in celebration for the next Hunger Games. It was at your house, which pained Coriolanus, but made sense. You were always looking to help out, and it seemed to be the perfect opportunity for the Dean to ask if you and your family would host this gathering. You considered it done the moment it was asked of you, all you had to do was ask your parents for the money and for the time and you organized the whole thing. It was going perfectly. Many people came up to you, chiding about how wonderful the party was, how they hoped that they would get some of the appetizing leftovers from the snack table. You gave smiles, your laughter filling up the space that Coriolanus could hear, wanting nothing more than to smack you silly, to prove that you were not better than him. 

It was stupid, really, considering you had done nothing to prove that you were trying to humiliate him. It was all twisted in his mind. And he was determined to make things right, whatever that meant. 

He made his way to you, dressed in a pressed white dress shirt and black slacks, accenting his long legs, his usually curled hair pressed back only a bit in a styled fashion. He was handsome, there was no denying it. Your eyes met his blue ones, almost being enveloped in the sea of them as he made his way further. 

“Well then, if it isn’t the Academy’s darling,” Coriolanus said, his tone nothing but authoritative, as if he was trying to make you feel uncomfortable. You were used to his slight jabs, the way that he always seemed to want to push your buttons. You paid it no mind, not letting him have the satisfaction. “How much of daddy’s money did you have to spend to pull this off?” 

You rolled your eyes, pearled white teeth biting your tongue as you chose your words carefully. “Coriolanus, do tell me, is it your mission in life to be a thorn in my side?” A playful jab, something that you could easily spin out as being a tease if the wrong person was to hear. After all, you wouldn’t want your reputation to tank over one encounter. That was the thing about the Academy, always somewhere there was someone watching, listening. You were never alone. 

Thorns. They reminded him of his Grandma’am’s roses, how the things would get caught in your skin if you weren’t careful enough. There had been many times where he had cut himself on the barbs, the tip digging into the thin layer of his hand and drawing blood when he had gone to cut one for his outfit. He thought to himself how he wanted to be a thorn in your side, how he wanted to poke and prod at you until he drew blood, to see your perfect image falter under his touch. He chuckled at your words, the crease lines of his smile oh so evident as you looked at his stupid, perfect face. He leaned in, the smell of roses enveloping the two of you, his face almost disastrously close to your own. 

“Do you want me to be?” 

You scoffed. “Being crass now?” 

Of course, of course you dealt your hand in the same way that you always did. He would put himself out there, trying to get a rouse out of you, and you wouldn’t bite at the bait. You would simply leave him there, to play with himself, and it was so infuriating. For once, just once, he wished that he would see that perfectness in your stature falter. He wanted to see you ruined, whether or not he was the person to do it. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that he had to be the one to ruin you. You were his, whether you knew it or not. 

You walked away from him, spinning on your perfect heels and making your way to a door, opening it and closing. It was the bathroom, one of many in your house but the one that was most accessible to the party. You needed a moment alone, to freshen up, to get Coriolanus out of your mind. This was your party, he wasn’t just going to ruin it like this by using all of his stupid words. Your hand went to your forehead, pushing some of the strands that had fallen from your perfectly styled hair back to their place, leaning in and scanning your face in the mirror for any other mistakes on your clear skin. Just as you were about to turn and make your way out, you watched as the door opened and closed just as quickly, Coriolanus standing there with his back to the door. You heard the familiar click of the lock, and the way that he looked at you made you shiver. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him, moving to grab the handle but was quickly swatted away by his hand. You looked up at him, the height difference palpable, despite the heels you had on. He was so much bigger than you, he could easily overpower any move that you tried to make. “Let me through, Snow, this isn’t funny.” 

“No.” 

Your eyes squinted. “No?” 

“You know, for someone who spends hours in front of the mirror, you’re not fooling anyone,” Coriolanus said. He took a step forward, which didn’t really make such a difference in the long run. This was a big bathroom, if you really wanted you could've had a party in here with a sizable guest list. Still, you took a step backwards, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you. 

“What’s your problem, Coriolanus?” 

“You’re my problem,” He breathed out. “Always pretending to be so damn perfect.” 

You laughed. “Well, not everyone can embrace mediocrity as effortlessly as you do.” A low blow, something you knew would get under his skin and rile him up. And it seemed to do just that, because you could see his jaw clench, perfect facade that he had seemed to falter. You had caught him off guard, he hadn’t expected you to bite back with such a fiery attitude. But maybe you had just had enough of all his button pushing, of all his mindless teasing and hating on you for what seemed like no reason. You wanted to make him uncomfortable, make him know how much you loathed him. So you continued, “Jealous much? Can’t handle the fact that I outshine you without even trying?” 

Coriolanus was walking towards you before you even had a chance to move out of the way, his large body caging you in between himself and the marble counter. His hand went to your jaw, the contact of his fingertip on your skin making you heat up, a small fire burning in your chest. His grip was so hard that you were sure that it would leave a bruise. Your eyes widened, pupils blown out from the contact. You hadn’t expected for him to do this, you hated how much you liked it. How you wondered if he was this rough when he was doing other things. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly liking the way that your doe eyes widened and looked at him, like you were a deer caught in the headlights. But his mouth opened, “You don’t know anything about me.” 

Which was, for the record, very true. You didn’t know anything about Coriolanus Snow because he seemed so keen on keeping things a secret. You didn’t know about his home life, the only thing you knew about him was what he was showing to you now, that he had a dark side that was starting to leak out of the cracks of his perfected persona. You gave a smile, a vile, venomous one that was meant to catch him off guard. “Yeah? So tell me, Coriolanus Snow, what don’t I know? Please, enlighten me.” 

He wished that you would just shut the fuck up. He wanted to put his hand around your throat and choke you until you lost consciousness, so that he could feel like he would be rid of all the sickening thoughts about you for just one moment. He thought about leaving right now, leaving while he still had some dignity left. But Coriolanus was not one to back down from a challenge, and he certainly wasn’t one to lose the upper hand. He was in control, he had to keep his control. There was no way in hell that he would let you think differently. 

The way he kissed you was bruising, like he was trying to make a mark on you forever. His teeth grazed against your lips, biting and nipping enough to almost draw blood. Coriolanus was all consuming, His one hand staying on your jaw while the other one came to wrap around your throat, disregarding his earlier thoughts and instead only squeezing a little bit, pulling you closer to him. His hips pushed into your own, you could feel his bulge through his trousers, a smirk fell on your face before he was quick to wipe it off by pushing you so much into the counter that you jumped on top of it, opening your legs and allowing him to slot in between them. 

Your hands came and wrapped in his hair, pulling on the locks of goldenness that you had only fantasized before in your dreams. They were soft, just like you imagined, and the way that you pulled on them had him groaning into your mouth, his lips leaving yours to kiss harshly against your jawline, down your neck, and onto the part of your collarbone that was exposed from your dress shirt. Teeth pressing against the soft skin that connected your jaw to your neck. You sighed out, hands moving down to his torso and surrendering into his touch as if saying do anything to me, anything you’d like.

And he did, because the second he heard that sigh come from your pretty pink lips he was determined to explore every part that he could of your body. He paid extra attention to your neck, sucking just under your chin, earning a soft moan on your part at the feeling. Your hips pressed against his and each of you breathed out, liking that feeling more than anything in the world. You hated how pliant you were in his hands, something you never thought would happen in a million years with Coriolanus Snow. And yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, instead pulling his head closer to your body and allowing for one of his hands to slip under your dress shirt, palm pressing against your left breast. He liked you like this, so perfectly obedient and compliant. He was going to enjoy ruining you. 

His hands pushed your pants down along with your panties, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You felt insecure, instinctually closing your legs away from him. He tutted, shaking his head and taking both of his hands to spread your legs open in front of him. He stood there looking at the curve of your hips and the apex of your thighs, eyes landing on your wet center. you looked down at him while he did nothing, only staring at you. You were completely vulnerable, insides screaming for him to just touch you. He seemed to want to take his time, from the way that his hand came and rested on the inside of your thigh while his eyes looked at your face gauging for a reaction. 

“What do you want, an instruction book?” You asked him, the brattiness and defiance in your tone that should’ve made him angry instead made him chuckle. His hand continued to reach further until his thumb pressed against your clit, making you groan at the feeling, your legs wrapping around his clothed waist. He was still completely clothed while you were completely pantsless. The bastard. He slid a singular finger into you, knowing that it would be enough to satisfy you for now, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Coriola-” 

A knock on the door made you both stop what you were doing. A voice was heard on the other end, it was your friend, wondering if you were okay since you had been in there for a while. “Y-yes! It’s fine,” You lied. “I’m just not feeling very well, I’ll be out soon!” You heard footsteps receding, and you turned your attention back to Coriolanus, who was looking down at you with a smirk. His finger was still buried in you, your pussy squeezing around his finger, wishing that he would move it. He seemed to understand what you wanted, his finger beginning to pump in and out, his thumb still pressed against your clit. The feeling was searing, something you weren’t even sure could just be described by words. 

His finger curled up in a come here motion and you almost screamed, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of knowing he had such an effect over you. He could see through your bullshit quite clearly, pushing another two fingers into you and not moving. Coriolanus had three fingers in you that he wasn’t moving, watching you squirm against his hand to create some kind of pleasure. but with his other hand he held your hips down, keeping you from moving at all. 

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

“For fucks sake, Coriolanus,” you said, eyes opening to look at him. 

His chest pressed against your own as he leaned in, “Beg. or I’ll leave you to finger fuck yourself.”

For a moment you thought that you weren’t going to do it, mostly because of your pride and ego. the pleasure that awaited you took over though and you opened your mouth to say, “please, Coriolanus. Fuck me with your fingers. Stretch me out. I need you.” your cheeks burned in embarrassment at your words, knowing that he would never let you live that down. 

“Good girl.”

He spared not a moment more, fingers setting at an unbelievably fast pace as they pumped in and out of you. His thumb massaged figure eights on your clit and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. Your head arched back, feeling him hit your g spot every single time his fingers fucked into you. Soon enough you were cumming, opening your eyes and seeing blurry vision. He kept pumping his fingers, mouth finding home on your neck to give you more marks, perfect petals like a perfect rose. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to hide all of them.

You took a minute to catch your breath and for that moment he wasn’t touching you at all made you miss his touch more than you were willing to admit. You heard the sound of pants unzipping and soon enough Coriolanus was in between your legs, this time his cock in his hands as he pumped lazily. He was big, you thought to yourself. Of course he was, considering all he had done with you so far, he was just preparing for you to be almost speared open by his cock. Incoherent words spilled from your lips, all different forms of begging for him to just push it in, and he finally gave you the satisfaction, the tip of his cock pressing into your entrance. Coriolanus pushed all the way in, inch by agonizingly slow inch, his own eyes falling shut at the feeling of your warmth around him. 

Once he bottomed out, he pulled out, pushing back in. You hissed at the feeling, not all the way used to the feeling of him stretching you out but loving it anyways. He buried himself into you like he owned you and you loved it. His hands came to your hips and thrusted in and out with such force that your whole body moved with every single rut into you. He shed no mercy, hitting that one spot every single time mercilessly. 

Your hands fumbled to touch him, anywhere you possibly could. Eventually you made your way to his back, fingernails digging into his skin enough to probably draw blood from underneath the white button up that he was wearing. You scratched up and down, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your breasts bounced up and down with every thrust from underneath your shirt, your mouth opened slack. The heat in the room was almost unbearable, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He grabbed your thigh and hoisted it up, moaning at the new angle that he hit within you. Your eyes teared up with the pleasure that coursed through you, once again about to hit that brink once again. You were already pretty sensitive from the previous orgasm. His name sounded so pornographic coming from you that he tried his best to remember how it sounded. It was unlike anything he had ever felt in his life. You looked so fucking good taking him like this. He felt as if he had everything he ever wanted in the palm of his hands. And he was making you feel good, better than anyone ever had before. 

This drove his pride, thrusting animal like into you to take you to that peak again. He wanted to make you cum again. And you did, after about three thrusts from him, each one pulling out all the way and pushing in with force. his hand slipped down to rub your clit in figure eights and you came with a yell of his name into his shoulder, biting down on the fabric to try and muffle some of it so that passersby wouldn’t hear what was going on inside the bathroom. Not even two thrusts after, he was cumming, a low groan eliciting from his lips while his body stalled slightly on top of you. Each of your skins were drenched with sweat that you two almost stuck to each other. He pulled your face to meet his own and gave you a quick peck, and continued this all the way down your neck then stopping to bury his face into the crook of your neck, composing himself. 

He didn’t pull out, not right away, thinking that he had gotten all that he wanted. 

And there was no way that he could let you go now. 

taglist ;

@obaewankenobis ; @slyhersophia ; @narcissistic-siren ; lmk if you want to be added.

[desperate-gay]

plsss write a jealous toxic bf leah smut fic!!!! maybe w one of those prompts u shared like she j fucks reader into the mattress when they get home and then towards the end after readers already finished like 3 times and shes saying she cant take anymore leah is like "yes you can babygirl" "youre gonna be good for me mama" whilst interlocking their fingers w intense eye contact🥹🥹

Just One More

Leah Williamson x fem!reader

SMUT 18+

Your body is exhausted.

Your mind is cloudy.

Your mouth is dry.

Just one more. Every time it leaves the girl’s mouth you know she doesn’t mean it. She wants to break you down until your body stops functioning properly so she can take care of you and prove to you that you need her.

It’s a vicious cycle with Leah. You’re both dating and have been for quite some time now. The only thing is you can’t be seen talking to anyone who’s not your guy’s shared friend unless you want to deal with an accusing and persistent girlfriend on your trail.

For example, a few hours ago you were making polite conversation with the mailman only to be dragged away by your girlfriend. She insisted that you were wearing too little which made a little sense given you were wearing her button-up shirt along with some short shorts.

And that’s how she dragged you here. The once buttoned-up shirt is now open, spilling out your breasts in your white bra while she pounds into you for what feels like the thousandth time this day. Your shorts are discarded to the side along with your now newly ripped panties so she can have full access to your pussy.

“You’re so close I can tell. Clenching so hard onto me.” Leah grunts, thrusting harder into you as her hands hold your legs up so your thighs are to your chest.

You don’t even register the noises coming out your mouth or the orgasm crashing over you. The strap she chose is bigger than you have ever taken. She informed you that she got it for the next time you’d misbehave.

“Baby, I can’t take anymore. So sensitive.” You whimper, turning your head to the side and shoving it against a pillow to muffle your cries when her hips slow down.

“Yes you can, this will be the last one, darling. Just one more.” The defender murmurs against your neck while kissing at the hickeys forming.

Her hands drop your legs down so you lay flat and she moves higher so her body is almost lying on top of yours. Silent screams spew from your mouth from the burning sensation down in your center from both being stretched and overstimulated. You feel so full to the point where your core is pulsating.

“Look at me, love.” She demands, grabbing your chin and pointing it towards her before reaching out and interlocking your hands together. “So good for me, aren’t you? Taking my cock so well.” The blonde grins when you let out a whine at her words.

Your legs are uncontrollably shaking with the sound of skin hitting yours and the wet sloshing of the toy pounding into you. Leah groans loudly at the feeling of your nails on your free hand dragging down her back, leaving bright red marks.

“Are you going to cum for me again? C’mon, I know you’ll feel better when you do.” Her hand reaches down at rubs your extremely swollen clit, causing you to let out a loud gasp and jerk away. “Don’t fight it, honey. Feel the pleasure and let go.”

Your eyes squeeze shut when your core clenches tighter around the silicone toy while your hand grips tightly onto Leah’s. She praises you through your orgasm as your moans continue until they turn into whimpers.

Her hands rub up and down your waist and her lips kiss up your stomach to distract you when she pulls out. Your whole body shutters and you suddenly feel extremely empty as your legs twitch.

“I don’t think I can walk, Lee.” You giggle against her lips as she continuously places little kisses on yours. She pulls away with a devious smirk while her hand trails down by your thigh once more.

“That was my plan all along, baby.”

[strangersmunsons]

Eddie goes shopping with you. eddie munson x gn!reader, ~900 words

“Okay, now what do you think of this?” You hold out a crisp white button-down shirt.

“I think that’s great,” he says automatically. 

“Eddie,” you sigh impatiently, “you’ve said that about every article of clothing we’ve seen today. I need like, an actual opinion.”

“That is an actual opinion.” He sounds offended that you might suggest otherwise.

“C’mon, I’m trying to look professional! You gotta help me.”

“I am helping!” Eddie holds up both arms to emphasize his point — he’s laden with bags from the stores you hit earlier in your shopping venture, weighed down with the new clothes you’re purchasing so as to better look the part for your new job.

A small giggle escapes you in spite of your exasperation. “I told you you don’t have to carry any of those,” you remind him, folding your arms across your chest.

Eddie scoffs. “And what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you haul this crap around all day?” He shakes his head, dark curls tumbling about his soft face. “No way. Wayne raised me right, thank you.”

“Well, that he certainly did,” you admit, a rush of affection warming your chest. Unable to help yourself, you reach out and pinch his little cheek between your thumb and index finger.

He pouts at the gesture, pretending to be annoyed; but really, a thrill shoots through him at the brief moment of contact. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for you to be touching him always. 

But it’s not like that. Not for you two.

Eddie tells himself that it’s okay, that he’s accepted it, he’ll content himself with daydreams and fantasies as he always has —

“Do you think black looks classier, though?” You’ve turned back to face the clothing rack again, thoughtfully fingering the silky fabric of a dark shirtsleeve. Your eyes narrow. “Or is it almost too formal?”

Eddie blinks dazedly, then shrugs. “I dunno. I wear black all the time, no one’s ever put me up for best dressed.” He frowns. “I suppose it’s a little different when it’s a Metallica t-shirt, though.”

You poke him playfully. “Or ripped jeans.”

Eddie swats your hand away, heart leaping.

You snicker in response, then soften. “For the record, I do like the way you dress. It goes with your whole thing, y’know?” You motion towards him vaguely, hands waving up and down his figure.

“My thing?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “The hair, the attitude, the music. Even your name. The whole thing.”

“What does my name have to do with any of that stuff?”

You shift your weight from foot to foot as you think about how to word your answer, tongue poking ever so slightly out of your mouth — an unconscious imitation of the face Eddie often makes when he’s focusing. He swoons a little when he realizes that you’re picking up some of his habits.

“I mean, if I didn’t know who you were, and someone told me to pick out the guy named Eddie Munson from a crowd of a hundred people, I could do it like that,” you tell him, snapping your fingers on the last word. “No one has ever looked more like they should be named Eddie Munson than you.” Your eyes cut over to his. “Does that make sense?”

Bewildered, Eddie’s eyebrows have shot up so high they’ve all but disappeared under his bangs. “…kind…of?”

You pat his shoulder, amused. “Don’t worry about it. Just look at the shirt.”

Obediently, his gaze flits back to the top. You smile expectantly, and he works to offer some sincere judgment. 

“Um, it looks comfier than the white one? Not as starchy.”

You nod sagely. “True.” You examine it more closely, a flicker of uncertainty clouding your features. “Do you think it’d look okay on me?”

Of course he does. He thinks you look nice in everything. In your pajamas, in your dressiest formalwear — it doesn’t matter. He never wants to hold you any less. To him, you’ve always the most beautiful person in the world. Whatever you happen to put on your body is irrelevant.

But this is the whole point of him accompanying you; he practically begged for you to let him tag along, swearing that it would be fun and that he’d help you. You’d been a smidge embarrassed at first, certain he’d grow impatient with your indecisiveness and bored with the constant vanishing into dressing rooms, but you seem comfortable now, letting him tote your bags around and asking for his advice. He hopes you’ll take him again next time, and then the next time, and then again after that…

“Yes, I do. I think you’d look really wonderful,” he finally answers. “You look incredible in everything you wear. Honest. You don’t need to worry about anything you buy today.”

Your eyes shine, a bashful smile spreading across your lips. “Really?”

“Of course,” he replies, face reddening. “You — you could wear a potato sack and make it look good, frankly.”

You laugh. “Yes, I’m sure that would be very flattering on me.”

“Hey, I think you could rock it.” He knows you think he’s teasing you, but he means it. And he’ll tell you again, and again, and again, until you believe him.

He’s got nothing but time.

[princessbrunette]

just thinkin about pope n innocent!reader,,, and her calling him daddy while he has her on her lap stuffing her w his fingers :( just thinking…

also, could i please be 📝 anon? :) i loovee ur writing

✧˖°.🩰✧˖°.

pope liked to reward good behaviour. he found positive reinforcement worked well with you, and was happy to use that to his advantage as it kept the two of you content.

if you were to make a good suggestion to the pogues, you were rewarded with something small and quiet as acknowledgement to your deed, like a kiss on the temple or a reassuring smile and nod. if you were to go out of your way to do something kind or helpful, like bringing him food when he’d forgotten to eat — or sewing up his shirt that got ripped on a pogue mission, you’d be rewarded with copious praise and affection, calling you his ‘good girl’ which seemed to be your favourite, melting like putty in his hands each and every time.

now these were things he did naturally, for nothing in return, purely because he wanted to. but it didn’t go unnoticed that the sweeter he was on his girl, the softer and more vulnerable you’d become — stripping you down to your most true self. he wanted you, wanted all of you— so he’d keep going, keep praising to work you out. you were popes favourite thing to study.

when you’d been consistently well behaved through the entire day, even when odds were against you — he’d often help you unwind with your favourite type of reward, having you on his lap with his long skilful fingers deep inside.

“i know, i know. how’s it feel when it rub you like this, hm? can you talk to me?” he used his softest tone on you, not the voice he uses to sark at jj or argue against john b’s outrageous plans. he was his softest, most relaxed with you — and he loved that you brought that out of him.

“i—i like it, m’gonna cum soon.” you wail but it’s muffled into the smooth skin of his shoulder muscle, the plane that had been bearing all of your pleased tears and sounds.

“thats good, bambie. gonna keep rubbing that pretty clit just like this okay?” he lilts his voice gently, tilting his head when you don’t respond, too focused on breathing out heavy breaths against him. he noses at your cheek, craning down to try and get your eyes on him. “okay?” he repeats and you screw your eyes shut, nodding.

“‘kay, daddy.” you release with a held breath. he’s kind of glad your eyes were shut, because it catches him off guard for a second, blinking down at you as he continues to work his fingers inside you, thumb resting over your button.

daddy.

he couldn’t say he was surprised that you were into that kind of thing, infact — jj had in a way predicted it in once when the two of them were out on the boat fishing. something along the lines of “nah dude she’s real sweet. i see why you like ‘er. got the whole innocent, ‘daddy please fuck me’ thing goin’ on, ‘ya know?” now at the time, pope had been too preoccupied with scolding jj over being vulgar about his girl to entertain the conversation, but now it was coming back to him and he realised he was right.

it definitely made sense. bad relationship with your own father which had wound you up in his arms— someone calm, nurturing, enforces gentle rules and guidance, teaches you new stuff. even away at college before he met you he was a magnet to a certain demographic of girl, one who needed a gentle demeanour and occasional firm hand.

he wracks his brain for what to say as he drops a long kiss to your forehead, blinking rapidly as thoughts fire off. he wants to please you, wants to be that for you— and for once he hadn’t done his ample research beforehand to really support you through it. he decides on something simple, trying it out.

“daddies right here, let it go for me, pretty girl.” he’s more of a natural than he realised, and as if he flipped some sort of switch— you gasp, clutching onto him hard as he feels you gush around his fingers in a water-fall like consistency.

you slur a bunch of nonsense against his skin as he shushes you kindly, ears pricking up and heat rising to his face and cock each time the word ‘daddy’ comes out muffled against his shoulder. if daddy was what you needed, daddy was what you’d get. he better get studying.

✧˖°.🩰✧˖°.

[marsfa1ry]

astrology observation 𓇼

(pics from pinterest)

capricorn mercury i love their dry sense of humor and dark sarcasm. my scorpio mercury be giggling like a baby when they tell a joke while everyone else blank stare the native, concerned about their dark humor. also their choice of words is so calculated and careful if developed, no sugarcoating tho, with well aspected could also be poetic. it’s so cute. ahhh my favs

lilith 3h knows how and when to push the button and let that intelligent communicator self take over lol literally can talk themselves out of anything and could wrap someone around their fingers by their words. school and/or siblings might be a hit or miss for them. it’s either good or bad, nothing in between.

mars 1h idk if it’s just me or not moving body when mentally in a better place for a whole day can cause natives a great emotion turmoil like (esp in virgo degree i guess💀) that’s why coping mechanism and serotonin booster includes deep cleaning room, groceries … oh maybe it’s just me ok

not to mention that healthy routine HELPS natives a lot i mean i guess it helps every human being but i feel like it emphasizes when it comes to mars 1h let me know if you resonates or not^^

earth moons with uranus prominent aspects/placements yes earth moons do need a stable routine to help them maintain their mind but with uranus influence esp if making aspects to mc, i think will most likely hate to have a 9-5 work, plus with prominence 9h/sagittarius, spontaneous career life is their go-to. their earth moons still want the stability tho so it could be that they have a stable morning and after work routine etc.

leo moon something about their hair that never fail to catch my attention. it’s like tho they did nothing their hair be thriving.

also something about head bumps because there was this one time i dreamed of a leo moon head bumping me just for me to wake up to an astrology observation (i can’t remember which one😿feel free to inform me so i can put credits here) says head bumping is a lion thing so leo placements tend to do that helpp- but tbh it’s so cute ><

earth moons w fire moons i rarely see astro community talk about this two together like it’s SO underrated. earth moon say the most straightforward, simplest compliments that get fire moon all flustered up and stuff like 😳 and firey do this most random, unprovoked things just to get reaction out of earthy. purely just vibing together. fire moon get earth moon out of their comfort zone, earth moon makes fire moon more grounded. seen them in many long terms relationships.

ex: EDIT : i just found out that brian groomed megan fox and actually so problematic so i deleted this example 🤢

ross lynch (aries moon) - jaz sinclair (capricorn moon)

aishwarya rai (capricorn moon) - abhishek bachchan (aries moon)

ryan gosling (capricorn moon) - eva mendes (leo moon)

moon conjucnt mercury synastry : moon be like ‘bruh you speak my mind’ while mercury ‘you read my emotions and know what to do with them without me talking it out so’ love this

moon conjunct chiron chiron making hard aspect to luminaries (emphasize on moon bcs istg…the pain towards deepest part of ourselves um) can manifest such a big impact in native’s life :,) and which part will be effected depends on houses where it sit in. however, as much as how diverse the conjunction can play out🤭 the same thing that wounded the natives could be the same thing that heal the natives. the key is to mastered the cruel (💀for real like who have this aspect would understand what i mean) chiron. as much as it makes you a severely wounded soldier in inner world’s field ffs, breaking the pattern of chiron can manifests a really great result.

moon prominent aspect in mother’s chart can be presented in your s/o’s chart or someone you like. for better or worse. 🧍‍♀️

mercury in sagittarius degree (9°,21°) philosiphize their words unintentionally and left people who had a conversation with them thinking about their words a lots esp when they give advice, they brought a whole new perspective to the person.

scorpio/8h prominent the struggle is real when someone they close with or trust don’t also hate their enemies. it’s a sign to retreat for them😠 ride or die. all or nothing.

lilith prominent/dominant men try so hard to hide their feelings and reactions when lilith prominent/dominant women come around. might even bully/pick on them at an extreme end. horrible at it finest when undeveloped ugh

taurus lilith square ascendant attract a lot of taurus mars and i have love-hate relationship with most of them

pisces rising really do get away with things. wittiness and chameleon energy of mutable + slyness of water = slay 💅

aries in big 6 literally always there in charts of ppl who heavily watch or fond of anime, manga

capricorn/cancer sun pair with scorpio/taurus sun no matter what others perceived them individually, they seems like a traditional couple to me lol when they’re together it gives ‘of course they’re together’ vibe. capricorn-scorpio and cancer-taurus more often than vice versa

pluto 3h i found myself thinking about what these natives say a looooot like even if it’s the most silliest stuff they said, it still echoes in my mind like ‘i think yellow is a really bizarre color’ and my mind goes 😮🤯😦😵‍💫🙀 wtff

; hihi, first i didn’t expect my previous astro notes to blow up this much so i want to say that i appreciated all the interactions and support <33 thank you so much and i hope whoever come across this astro ranting HEHE a really nice day/night and much fun reading this ⭐️

© @marsfa1ry

[anaxiphiliiaa]

Daydream in blue.

GIF by lucathy

Nakahara Chuuya x Y/N x Dazai Osamu (NSFW)

w/c: 2064

sypnosys: Unexpected consesquences after a night of drinking in commemmorance.

warnings: Fem Y/N, porn with (somewhat) plot, unprotected sex, alcohol, blood (mentioned briefly).

notes: established relationship(s), past relationships, polyamory.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I dream a dirty dream of you, baby

You're swinging from the chandelier.

I'm climbing up the walls 'cause you want you

But when you reach you, you disappear.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The mahogany door swung open haphazardly, signaling a less-than-graceful entry to the pitch-dark penthouse.

The door swung itself shut again, leaving two lovers grasping at each other in the dark, nothing on their minds except for each other in the alcohol-infused haze.

You giggled as Chūya's hand traveled over your body, grasping at whatever part of you he could get his hands on. One hand on your waist, then another on your nape, pulling you down as if he would suffocate without your breath on his own. The ginger’s lips found yours desperately, neither the alcohol nor lack of visibility could smother the burning hot desire coursing through his veins. Your lips molded against his just as eagerly, desperate to have more of him, to taste more of him.

It wasn’t too much of a rare sight - usually, it would be Chūya drunk, being the lightweight he was, and you would always be on standby dutifully to take care of your boyfriend. But today was different. Today, both were intoxicated to the point of near delirium, hands all over each other like teenagers who didn’t know better. In the dark, where you couldn’t see; in the alcoholic haze, where you could hardly register anything at all, his burning touch was like an anchor. And by how he touched you, it wasn’t hard to tell the feeling was mutual.

First thing you knew, Chūya had carried you up in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, his own hands around your body refusing to let go even for just a second. The next thing you knew, your back was pressed against the plush mattress of your shared bed. Meanwhile, Chūya fumbled with his clothes, grumbling as he stripped down the many layers he wore. Then soon enough, Chūya’s lips were back on yours, vaunting such love and passion that never failed to take your breath away. His skilled hands made quick work of the buttons you failed to undo on your shirt, tearing away each piece of fabric that prevented him from delving further.

It was as if being nearly black-out drunk awoken something primal in the redhead. On most occasions, Chūya was a gentle and attentive lover, taking pleasure in making you scream in ecstasy while foregoing his own. Yet, this time, it was as if he was starving, sucking bruises onto your neck mercilessly, marking his territory on the canvas of your skin. You squirmed under the foreign intensity, and Chūya immediately pinned your shoulders down, keeping you still with a greedy insistence. You didn’t complain, the sudden roughness only intensified the heat between your legs. Your arms wrapped around his bare shoulders, encouraging him to be harsher, rougher, more-, more-…

“God, fuck…!”

You whined when Chūya bit down particularly harshly on your neck, further fanning the fire of his desire.

Chūya wasn’t ever this rough, much so that this whole experience was strange. But in its strangeness, there was an odd familiarity.

It didn’t feel like it was Chūya at all.

Chūya wasn’t ever this rough, but…

Brown eyes flashed through your peripheral vision, nearly sending you into whiplash.

…

“More.”, you gasped, arching your back to your lover’s touch, chasing the once-forgotten feeling.

Your hand dug into his hair, grasping at his locks as he ravaged your body and sucked bruises all over your shoulders. He said something in response to your neediness, but you could hardly register it at all, drunk on chasing the sense of deja vu.

Unwittingly to you, the ginger on top of you was feeling the same nostalgia. The hand that tugged harshly at his long ginger locks sent him reeling - it had been so long since he was treated with such aggression. The alcohol in your breath and his own added to the fogginess. Beneath the redhead, slender shoulders were morphing into broader ones, the hand in his copper locks bandaged, rough, and taunting…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chūya growled ferally as his hips drilled into the figure beneath him, his digits a bruising grip on their hips as if fucking them into submission. “Fuck…Give me more…”, he grunted into skin, groaning when he was rewarded with another harsh tug of his hair.

You moaned brokenly when sharp thrusts were delivered to your body, pace brutal and unforgiving, barely leaving you any time to breathe. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the pitch-dark bedroom, the relentless stimulation playing further into your delirium.

A particularly harsh thrust to your G-spot sent a wave of pleasure down your spine. Your back arched, and you moaned out a single name, perhaps the first coherent word of that night.

“Osamu…!”

For a moment, Chūya was snapped from his hunger, some consciousness of the present returning to him momentarily. Did you really spill out the name of another man in this intimate moment with him? The realization twisted in his heart. He stopped, hurt clawing at his stomach. He pulled awa-

A hand tugged his ginger locks down harshly, forcing him back down. Lips crashed into his, teeth nipping at his plump muscles as if devouring him whole.

It didn’t feel like it was Y/N beneath him at all.

“Don’t fucking stop!”, you moaned, as if snapping at a certain brunette.

“Don’t fucking stop.”, a deeper, taunting voice rang in Chūya’s head. And he obliged, resuming the brutal pace he had set before, fucking for his pleasure now. “Shut it, you fucking suicidal bastard.”, the redhead snapped, hands lacing into yours, effectively pinning you down as he fucked you into the mattress.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The liquor coursing through your veins blurred faces and voices, replacing them with that of him. Earlier today, Chūya and you had visited your frequented bar, ordering fancy wines glass after glass. It was an occasion to commemorate, after all. A year before that point in time, Osamu Dazai had left the Port Mafia, leaving his past and your hearts behind him. And now, he was back, in your bed, a ghost that had never quite left.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Please, Osamu…”, you whispered drunkenly, your hands all over Chūya’s body, desperate to keep him close as if the one in your delusions would disappear if you let go.

“Osamu…”, Chūya grunted as nails dragged down his back, determined to put the figure beneath him in their place, cock twitching at every gasp and groan he received.

"You like it like this, huh?”, the ginger chuckled, spreading your thighs open and pinning them down harshly against the mattress so he could be even deeper, his cock practically knocking at your womb. You cried out in pleasure, eyes fluttering as your body shook under his. His mind was running miles an hour, clinging to a memory he tried so hard to push away, yet now the pistoning of his hips was replicating it exactly. Chūya’s cock plunged into your sopping hole punishingly, as if it was a certain brunette who had set him off, mocking him to bring out his rougher side. “‘That’s all you got, chibi?’”, “You’re pathetic…”, the voice rang through Chūya’s head like a mantra, and for once, it pissed him off most pleasurably. Chūya would never, ever treat you like that (or rather, try his best to refrain from doing so), too much of a gentleman to bring himself to treat you like anything other than porcelain. But when it came to him, he could be as unforgiving as he liked.

Chūya bit down on your shoulder, probably hard enough to draw blood. “Osamu… let you fucking hurt you…”, he growled breathlessly, the liquor in his veins egging on his fantasy. “Hah…Fuck…!”, you whined, feeling hot blood trickling down your collarbones. you hadn’t registered that Chūya had called you by Dazai’s name. you hadn’t registered that the one fucking you so deliciously wasn’t even Dazai at all. “You fucking bastard.”, you cursed him out despite the thrilling waves of pleasure shooting down your spine. Your nails scratched down Chūya’s back, determined to hurt him back - like you always did Dazai whenever he got you under his thumb and pinned beneath him. Your mind was hazy, logical thoughts all gone, and the only thing you were aware of was the feeling of being filled up so fucking good. Your hand traveled down to rub at your neglected clit, the coil in your stomach growing hotter with each thrust delivered into you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chūya shuddered as a pair of hands clambered over his chest before finally finding purchase on his throat. Your sweaty digits encircled his neck like a piece of jewelry, pressing down beneath his Adam's apple - enough to give him a hard time catching his breath, but not enough to do damage. “Fuck…”, the redhead gasped, the slight blockage on his throat encouraging him to fuck even harder and chase his high. No longer was the logical executive - he was now something feral, driven purely by his fantasy - his breaths were ragged and airy, moans and grunts streaming from his mouth, not even the usual curses could be made out. When he did manage to say something, it was a jumbled mess of Dazai’s name and profanities, bickering with the man still even in this intimate moment. You didn’t even notice at all - too busy moaning the same name, playing around with the same fantasy in your head as he did. Your pussy was practically clamping down on Chūya’s cock (or pseudo-Dazai, at this point), plush walls sucking him in eagerly. “More…”, you gasped, then rendered speechless again when his cock plunged into you, hard muscle dragging over your tight channel good enough to make you keen.

It was becoming harder and harder to tell what was real, and what was not. Memories of a night returned in waves, manifesting themselves in every thrust of Chūya’s hips, and every squeeze of your hand. He was replicating that memory so perfectly, so seamlessly - cock twitching at the thought of Dazai beneath him. Neither could you tell anything apart anymore as the coil in your stomach burned hot with pleasure, the feeling of someone’s (whose even? Dazai’s or Chūya’s?) hands all over your naked skin. The redhead seemed completely unaware that he wasn’t even doing this with Dazai, but rather with the woman he loved so damn much. But with how it was going, you may as well have been the brunette at that point. It was comical how that sentiment was shared - bandaged hands pinned you down in your fantasy, brown eyes piercing through your pleasure-induced haze.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hng…Close?”, you tutted sarcastically between breathy moans, “Already… hah… Osamu...”. “Shut it…'m not even nearly there.”, Chūya growled in retaliation - a lie, you could tell from how sloppily he was beginning to move. His hips pushed against yours erratically, cock pulsed with need, pushing against your walls desperately for release. you laughed breathily at the banter, relishing in the playfulness you had almost forgotten. One of your hands continued the pressure on his throat, the other dug tight on his shoulders, clinging to him as you began to feel your orgasm approach. “Fuck…fuck, fuck!”, the redhead breathed shakily, “Not so tough, huh?...You’re… fucking easy to toy with…”. His hips snapped against your skin in deliberate thrusts, sloppily as his own high was imminent. “Shit…I’m cumming… hgh…oh, fuck!’, Chūya’s speech became meaningless blabberings, and with a final thrust, he spilled himself inside you, sending you to your own peak at the same time. Your eyes rolled back, mouth agape as your entire body shook with the blinding force of your orgasm. Ropes of his release painted your insides white, curses tumbling out of his mouth in a breathless groan.

Chūya collapsed on top of you, exhausted, hips slowing to a slow grind as he rode out his high. Your arms immediately wrapped themselves around your lover’s shoulders, holding him like a lifeline after the spine-shattering peak you shared. After a moment, he pulled out and laid down on the bed, breaths still shaky when he pulled your body close and muttered love words into your ears. You quickly fell asleep in each other’s arms, the tiredness brought by your release and the alcohol winning over.

…

Tomorrow morning was going to be awkward.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[candycandy00]

Tentacle Tomura - A Shigaraki x Reader Fic

So here’s the tentacle fic. I’m not sure it needs much of a summary. Reader is a hero who has an encounter with Tomura with a tentacle quirk.

Smut. 18+. Tentacles. Oral. Anal. Size kink. Lots of slimy stuff and various fluids. This is a nasty fic!

You couldn’t believe your luck when you stumbled upon the underground facility beneath a hospital. Your quirk makes searching for advanced technology easy, and it has led you to an entire lab. There are great glass tubes with dangerous looking Nomus in them, staring at you with their creepy eyes. Are they awake? Can they actually see you? You certainly hope not. You’re a lone hero exploring your discovery. Combat is not your specialty, so your plan is to take a look around this obvious villain facility and then report your findings back to the other heroes. 

Just as you’re about to leave, you notice a door in the back. For some reason, the sight of that door fills you with a sense of dread, as if something terrible is waiting on the other side. But your quirk is telling you that more technology is beyond it, perhaps even more advanced than the stuff you’ve already seen. So you take a deep breath and open the door. 

Inside is just one large glass tube filled with liquid, and the figure of a young man floating within. You approach the tube carefully and look closely at the man. Your eyes widen and you instinctively draw back away from him. It’s Shigaraki Tomura! The heroes have been searching frantically for him for weeks, and here he is. When he doesn’t move or even open his eyes, you step closer again. 

Shigaraki is surprisingly young, with pure white hair floating around his pretty face. He’s dressed in form fitting black clothing, his body much more toned than in the pictures you’ve seen. You realize with a bit of guilt that you find him attractive. What are you thinking? He’s a dangerous villain! 

Still, you find yourself pressing your whole body against the glass and staring up at him. It’s at this moment that his eyes snap open, two glowing red orbs fixing immediately on you. 

In a panic, you back away quickly, bumping into some sort of control panel in the process. You’re not sure what happened. Buttons were pushed. Beeping sounds were made. And the water begins to drain from Shigaraki’s tube. 

Your first instinct is to flee, to run back out the way you came and call for help. But for some reason, your legs just won’t move. You collapse onto the floor as your legs give out beneath you, and you can only watch in horror as the glass opens up with a mechanical thud and Shigaraki steps out. 

He runs a hand through his hair, water dripping all over him. “Looks like you interrupted my nap,” he says in a dry, bored voice. “I’ll have to get the doc back down here to start it up again. In the meantime…”

He looks straight at you. 

You make a sound that comes out like a squeak and scoot back until you hit the wall. He’s going to kill you. There’s no doubt about that. He’s going to use that terrifying quirk of his to destroy you. 

“I’m guessing you’re a hero,” he says, squatting down in front of you, close enough that he could reach out and touch you. 

Too afraid to speak, you give a shaky nod. 

He stares at you, his eyes focusing on your face for a while before moving down, grazing over your whole body. Is he… checking you out? And if he is, would that be a good or bad thing? 

He stands up then, still watching you. “Who have you told about this place?”

“N-no one!” You blurt it out without thinking. Should you have led him to think others knew, and might be on their way to rescue you? Or was it better to try to avoid angering him? 

He won’t stop staring at you, and you realize, again with some guilt, that he has beautiful eyes. What is wrong with you? This man is going to kill you in seconds and all you can think about is how hot he is. 

But instead of attacking, he says something truly bizarre: “You look like a chick from my favorite hentai.”

What? Hentai? Like anime porn? What is he talking about?

His eyes finally shift away from you as he looks up at the ceiling, seemingly in deep thought. “Master gave me a lot of quirks. Let’s see if the one I’m thinking about already got transferred.”

He closes his eyes, concentration evident in his face. Then, so suddenly that you scream in shock, a mass of wriggling red tentacles burst from his back. They vary in size, from relatively thin to extremely thick and bulbous. They’re fleshy and shiny, some of them dripping some sort of clear fluid. 

Before you can even react to this horror show, four tentacles shoot toward you, surprising you with their length. They coil around your arms and legs, lifting you into the air. And this is when his previous comment starts to make sense. 

You’ve seen hentai before, mostly with friends making fun of it. So you’re definitely aware of one of the most popular types: tentacle hentai, where women get violated by dozens of gross looking tentacles, usually from some alien or monster. Though you’d laughed at the absurdity along with your friends, you’d always found the tentacles disturbing. You couldn’t help imagining that happening to you, how frightening it would be, how humiliating it would be to have your body forced into those lewd positions. 

Now, as the tentacles sprouting from Shigaraki’s back wrap around your limbs and hold you aloft in front of him, you realize exactly what kind of hentai had been his favorite, and your whole body trembles. 

“Whoa, I can feel everything they touch,” he says, looking excited. “They’re like extra limbs.”

You can’t help noticing two more tentacles that have been creeping up your bare thighs, toward your skirt. You squirm in the slimy grip, trying and failing to free yourself. “Please,” you say to him, “just let me go!”

He grins, baring his teeth. “What fun would that be?”

The two extra tentacles slide under your skirt and move up to place themselves between your skin and the waistband. Then they rip the skirt completely off you, causing you to shriek and jerk against your bonds. More tentacles shoot toward you and then slither under your remaining clothes, under your shirt, under your bra, even under your panties. You whimper and struggle, but it’s no use. You’re completely helpless. 

All at once, the tentacles under your clothes pull outward, bursting through the fabric, leaving it all in shreds. Your shirt is reduced to ripped sleeves hanging uselessly from your arms, your bra nothing more than two thin straps connected to nothing. But worst of all, your panties were completely demolished, as if they’d never been there to begin with. 

Almost at the same time, the tentacles holding you shift your body so that it’s like you’re sitting on air, your knees pushed up toward your shoulders and your thighs spread so far apart that you’re afraid you’ll be ripped in two. Your arms are pulled back painfully tight behind you, causing your full, naked breasts to jut out in front of you. 

Shigaraki’s eyes roam over you, taking in the obscene view. Heat floods your face as you’re overcome with embarrassment. You avoid looking him in the face, so your eyes wander downward, where you can clearly see an enormous bulge in his tight black pants. 

Is he that turned on by seeing you naked? And why the hell do you feel flattered by that? Even worse, you can’t stop yourself from imagining what that bulge would look like unclothed. With alarm, you realize you’re getting wet. 

More tentacles move across your body, two thin ones wrapping around your breasts, squeezing them. From the ends of each of these, tiny tentacles sprout and coil around your nipples. The tiny tentacles are covered in little barbs that prick at the delicate nubs, though they’re not sharp enough to break the skin. The sensation makes you gasp, but it’s not unpleasant. 

Then a single rope-like tentacle emerges from Shigaraki’s back and rubs across your pussy, pushing the folds apart as it finds your clit and clamps down over it. You jerk wildly, crying out, as you feel the end of the tentacle tightening around your most sensitive spot, and from somewhere inside the tentacle, you feel another tiny extension that feels like a narrow, wet tongue lapping at your pinched clit. The stimulation is too much. You can feel your arousal dripping out of you, can almost hear it hitting the floor. 

And all the while, Shigaraki is inches away, watching you buck and fight, your body contorting into ever more embarrassingly lewd poses. Even you can’t tell whether you’re moaning or sobbing as the tentacle between your legs relentlessly attacks your clit. 

“You really do look like her,” Shigaraki says, his eyes full of lust. “You’re even dripping wet like she was. Do tentacles feel that good?”

You realize he’s talking about hentai again. You also notice another tentacle heading toward your crotch. This one is much thicker, with a bulbous head on the end. It doesn’t take you long to figure out where it’s going. 

You’re still a virgin, and it’s something you’ve wanted to change about yourself for a while now. Most of your friends got their cherries popped in high school, or very soon after, and they teased you incessantly about the fact that you still hadn’t experienced that, even two years after graduating. You wanted to get laid, you really did, but you hadn’t found anyone you were attracted to enough to sleep with. 

Even so, the thought of your first time being with a tentacle just made you feel like crying, so you yell out, “Wait, please wait!”

The tentacle heading toward you slows but doesn’t stop. Shigaraki looks at you curiously. 

In desperation, you cry, “I don’t want to lose my virginity to a tentacle!”

That’s when the tentacle freezes in place, just inches from your spread open pussy. Shigaraki’s eyes seem to light up as he says, “Seriously? You’re a virgin?”

Blushing furiously, you nod. 

A grin spreads across his pretty face, red eyes shining. “So you’re fine with losing your virginity as long as it’s not to a tentacle?”

Your mouth falls open in shock. That’s not really what you meant, but now that he said it, the thought of him fucking you invades your brain. Your eyes shift to that bulge again, and this time Shigaraki notices. 

He uses a hand that’s missing a few fingers to palm himself through his pants and asks, “Is this what you want?”

You look away. Yes, it’s exactly what you want but you’re too ashamed to say it out loud. The tentacles working on your body are making it hard to think straight, and you can now see a large puddle of fluid on the floor beneath you. 

The tentacle that’s latched onto your clit tightens again, the tongue-like extension inside making rapid, feathery motions. It’s too much. You can’t hold back anymore, and you cry out in ecstasy as an intense orgasm wracks your body. It’s so powerful that tears leak from your eyes and your body convulses in midair. 

When you finally regain your senses, you notice Shigaraki pulling his pants down enough to free his cock, and you nearly gasp. You’ve never seen one in person before, but you’re pretty certain it’s not supposed to be that big. Shigaraki himself is looking down at it with a surprised expression. 

“I guess the quirk affects my body in a lot of ways,” he says, clearly amused. 

The tentacles pull you closer to him, then suddenly twist you around until you’re hanging upside down. From this angle, with your legs still held far apart, Shigaraki has a clear view of everything you have. And your face is mere inches from his cock. You stare at it, watching it throb with arousal. Without thinking, you stretch toward it and give it a tentative lick, drawing your tongue gently along his length. 

You can’t see his face from your position, but you hear him laugh and say, “Horny little hero.” Then the tentacles press your face closer until it’s smooshed against his massive cock. You open your mouth, almost by reflex, and the tip of it shoves in. At only halfway in, the cock is hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag. But somehow, you’re not repulsed. Even when he begins thrusting into your mouth, cutting off your air each time, you find yourself getting more and more turned on. What a time to discover you’re a masochist. 

This goes on for several minutes, until your throat feels raw and your jaw is sore. Then he pulls out until just the tip of his cock is still inside, and fills your mouth with hot sticky cum. 

You gulp it down as fast as you can, not wanting to spill any and also wanting to be able to breathe normally again. Once you’ve swallowed all of it, he finally pulls out completely and the tentacles holding you twist around again until you’re upright, face to face with him. 

You’re exhausted, breathing heavily, your lips bruised red and trembling. His pale face has reddened slightly from the experience, but otherwise he’s not showing any signs of tiring. He has a look of hunger in his eyes, like he’s just gotten started. 

You feel something snaking up your leg again, and you look down to see the thick, bulbous tentacle from before inching toward your groin. You look frantically back at Shigaraki. “No, please!”

He laughs. “You still want to lose your virginity to this,” he asks, gesturing toward his huge cock. 

Oh God, there’s no way that thing is going to fit inside you. But you still want it. You need it. So you cry out, “Yes!”

He watches you for a moment, seemingly enjoying the show you’re putting on, with tears on your face, tentacles still teasing your tits and clit, your lips quivering. “Maybe I’ll give it to you,” he says in a mocking tone, “if you’re a good girl.”

Before you can ask what he means, you feel the thick tentacle move rapidly up your leg. You draw in a sharp breath and squeeze your eyes shut, preparing to have your first time stolen by this crawling menace, but instead of entering your pussy, the slimy tentacle wiggles its way into your ass. 

Your eyes open widely in shock and confusion. Why is your ass suddenly full? The sensation is bizarre. It hurts, your asshole stretching to accommodate something so thick. The slime and various other fluids only did so much to ease the pain. But you’ve quickly learned that you enjoy a certain level of pain, so you try to relax your muscles and let the tentacle slide in and out. 

“Tentacles are fine for this hole, right?”

You look at Shigaraki again when you hear his voice. You can’t believe all this is happening right in front of him. The embarrassment alone is enough to make you cry as your ass is railed by the long, gooey appendage. Your crying turns to moaning, and you hear his voice again. 

“You really like this, huh? You’re gushing.”

You glance down to see yourself squirting. The sight is enough to make you cum again, but the tentacles never stop, not the one in your ass, not the ones on your tits and clit. You’re sure you’re going to pass out, but the tentacles holding you pull you forward, so close to Shigaraki that your tender nipples brush against the fabric of his shirt. He looks down at you with a sadistic grin and says, “Tell me what you want.”

You look up with teary eyes and say, “I want you to fuck me… please…”

His grin widens. “Be more specific.”

You’re barely coherent at this point, your mind only able to focus on the pleasure and pain that have completely taken over your senses. But you manage to get the words out. “I want you… to fuck my virgin pussy… with your giant cock…”

He laughs then, using the tentacles to pull you away from him. You can’t help whining when you can no longer feel his body heat against you. You can see his cock, rock hard again and twitching. He wants to fuck you. That’s obvious. So why won’t he? Is he trying to torment you? 

Suddenly another thick, phallic tentacle appears out of nowhere and shoves itself into your open mouth, slithering halfway down your throat. The tip of it is leaking fluid, and you realize that fluid tastes exactly like Shigaraki’s cum. The tentacle moves in and out, fucking your mouth. 

A few feet away, Shigaraki is watching intently. His eyes are full of desire as he says, “I’ve stuffed all your holes except the one you want me to stuff, huh? Poor little hero.”

Meanwhile, the two large tentacles are thrusting into your ass and mouth mercilessly. You lose track of time. You don’t know how long this goes on until, at the same moment, both tentacles ejaculate inside you. The fluid keeps spurting into your holes, sliding down your throat, oozing into your ass. And all you can think is, “I’m full to the brim with cum and I’m still a virgin.”

The tentacles, all except for the ones holding you in place, withdraw. Your body is left bruised, raw, sore, dripping both your own cum and Shigaraki’s. You don’t know how you’re still conscious. 

You’re pulled back to Shigaraki again, so tantalizingly close. You wish he would kiss you, or touch you with his own hands, no matter how dangerous that would be. Or better yet, just fuck you already. He looks at you with a strangely serious expression. The tentacles pull your legs apart and draw your knees up, then pull you even closer. You feel the hot tip of Shigaraki’s cock pressing against your entrance, and your whole body tenses up. You can’t imagine what your face looks like right now, but you’re probably wearing a slutty, blissful smile as the tentacles pull you slowly down. 

It’s too big. But you knew that already. The huge cock shoves into you, stretching and ripping your hole. You feel something warm, and realize it must be blood, the proof that you’ve finally lost your virginity. You wince and hiss, involuntarily jerking against the tentacles that are pulling you down. You want this, no matter how bad it hurts. You look Shigaraki in the eyes, and he leans forward, sticking his tongue into your mouth. It’s not the romantic kiss you’d hoped for, but tasting his saliva as it passes to your mouth somehow makes you even wetter. 

Finally, the tentacles stop. You can feel that you’re absolutely stuffed with his cock. Your pussy is throbbing, pulsing. Shigaraki puts his mouth close to your ear and says, “If I push it any further in, it might kill you.”

You nod, understanding. You’re already plenty satisfied with what’s inside you. In fact it’s already too much. 

With the tentacles holding you firmly in place, Shigaraki begins thrusting in and out of you. It hurts at first, stretching you to your limit, but gradually your body accommodates him, and all you feel is full and warm. You maintain eye contact with him, not wanting to miss even the tiniest change in his expression. Does this feel as good for him as it does for you? 

His breaths are more shallow, his hair messy across his forehead and shoulders. Fuck, he’s beautiful. You wish you could stay full of him forever. 

With the other tentacles gone, all your focus is on the cock shoving into you. All your thoughts revolve around it. It’s like your life is nothing without it. You clench around him, and he finally groans, moving his mangled hand up to touch your face. Then he finally kisses you, passionately and sweetly, the way you wanted to be kissed. 

When you feel Shigaraki’s cum shoot deep inside of you, hot and plentiful, it pushes you over the edge again, and you cum for the third time. 

As you shudder and pant, he pulls out of you. Your body goes limp, your head falling back, exhaustion overcoming you. But then you look at Shigaraki’s face again, and you see that he’s grinning. He says, “Now that you’re not a virgin anymore, the tentacles can have their fun.”

You use your remaining strength to hold your head back up and ask in a weak voice, “What?”

As if to answer you, dozens of tentacles shoot out from his back, all of them coming straight for you. Then all at once they’re squeezing your breasts, teasing your nipples, clamping onto your clit, wiggling into your mouth, ass, and pussy, filling every hole you have while Shigaraki watches. 

It feels like an eternity before you finally black out, only after cumming twice more and feeling the three large tentacles ejaculating in all your holes several more times. 

When you wake up, you’re in a hospital bed. You’re sore all over but otherwise unharmed. A creepy looking doctor walks in shortly after and lowers his voice as he tells you, “Shigaraki said to let you go. If you tell anyone about what you found down there, you’ll never have that experience again.”

You look at him in shock. So this doctor is a cohort of Shigaraki’s. Your first thought is to get out of the hospital and report what you found to the heroes. But… could you really tell them what happened? No, you couldn’t possibly do that. 

So you leave the hospital, and you keep your mouth shut about what you saw, and what you did. Hopefully, Shigaraki would wake up again soon. You were already excited about your next encounter.

[genderkoolaid]

Do you still believe HRT, which unless you have a messed up endocrine system doesn't hurt or sterilize anyone , and SRS, which often calls for reduction or addition of things and doesn't have to entail the removal of any genitals, gonads etc, are in the same vein as being trans abled, and wanting things like debilitating illness, removed limbs, and to use mobility aids etc when physically and mentally abled? /genq

It could've been a trollpost, but I saw someone posting about something that supposedly came from you about how it's the same as removing healthy gonads or to sterilize oneself intentionally to want a limb removed to disable oneself /g

Uh, yeah, at the very least I believe it doesn't make sense to support people's ability to choose one but not the other. [Also as a necessary disclaimer: I am physically disabled and I use both a cane and a wheelchair. It has had a major impact on my life. This is my opinion as a cripple who suffers on a daily basis from both my disabilities and systemic ableism.]

If you get healthy gonads or sex organs removed, you are essentially reproductively disabled. When it comes to phalloplasty, especially RFF, your arm can experience some nerve issues (which for most people is not serious, there are therapies you do to help recover) but you could, potentially, experience some kind of disability. None of this is a value statement about any kind of medical transition because disability is morally neutral. In fact for many people being reproductively disabled is an entirely positive thing! Even though for another person it could be deeply upsetting!

I've fought for a long time against TERF fearmongering about transmasculine transition, specifically HRT, and their warnings that "it will make your good pure body DISABLED!!!!!" which is both ableist and transphobic. It comes from the assumption that a disabled body is inherently lesser and tragic and a place of suffering, and that no trans person would ever take disability for the ability to experience euphoria and relieve their dysphoria. Many of us would rather be disabled and happy than abled and suffering. So why do we only get to apply this to medical transitioning for trans people?

Yes, obviously getting a limb removed or paralyzed or losing a sense is going to change how you live and you will have to deal with a lot of ableism. But it's not up to me to tell someone else that they shouldn't pursue happiness and relieve because oh no! They might be a DISABLED PERSON! The worst thing to be in the whole wide world!!!!!!!! Like disabled people already have to constantly hear "wow if I was you I'd kill myself." And while you shouldn't comment your feelings on someone else's condition unprovoked, I think it's way better to see people getting excited to live a happy and active disabled life instead of constant traumaporn. So yeah I think people should have the ability to pursue voluntary disability & I also think it would be cool to see people with BIID reclaim the label of transabled, since it was coined by a BIID activist to create a less medicalized and suffering-focused way of talking about BIID.

(Also, my stance as a mobility user has always been that the only criteria you need to fill to get a mobility aid is thinking it could help you. People already suffer unnecessarily because they are worried they aren't "disabled enough" to deserve an aid. So if someone w BIID feels better when walking with crutches I don't care! Especially if they actively fight against systemic ableism and inaccessibility! I am wayyyyy more concerned with all the buildings in my hometown with no goddamn elevator + crosswalks with no button or speaker than I am with someone using a wheelchair because it helps their dysphoria.)

[rauberrauber]

line up baby

wanted to make a sort of ref for everyone so i can keep track of everyone's designs, heights, etc

side hcs below cuz i wanna ramble lol

fyi any links are just for pictures to help visualize what im trying to say

also add to these with ur own i love reading hcs :]

general:

the sides work with a kind of cartoon logic (kinda like who framed Roger rabbit) which is what their shape shifting and such is, they can survive pretty much everything, dont bend to reality type thing

i also dig playing around with the idea that they just arent human, they dont need to eat, sleep, even breathe or blink if they dont wanna. They just play more human around thomas so they dont freak him out (everyone but remus at least, dude doesnt give a fuck lol) they all have their priorities regarding that kinda stuff. like logan doesnt eat or sleep almost at all (there r exceptions tho obvi (crofters))  while patton rly likes to cook and bake so why not eat the stuff you make? meanwhile remus eats literally anything he can find

they can also float if they wanna, same thing where they just dont around thomas. this came about me just imagining remus consistently floating around in the mindscape instead of walking for whatever reason? so yeah they can do that

theres a core mindscape and a ‘dark’ mindscape, that sorta works like the upside down from stranger things (as in the dark mindscape is like literally upside down and mirrors everything, like this)

everyones also got their own unique doors to their rooms. logans is very sleek and modern, pattons in more childlike and almost vintage, romans resemble castle doors while remus’ is more like a dungeons, virgils is typically angsty teenager with tons of posters and ‘keep out’ signs, and janus has tons of locks on his

design wise the core sides have straight teeth and fluffier hair while the dark sides have sharp teeth and rougher(?) hair (since changing, virgil has vampire-esque fangs)

logan:

square rimmed glasses

loves the rain

unintentionally fidgets with his clothes, always adjusting his glasses or rolling his sleeves up and down or messing with the buttons or his tie

playing more into the whole ‘sides dont have to eat thing’ he finds food kinda nasty lol, again only rly eats stuff thats very good to him (ultimate picky eater basically) patton has tried and failed many times to get logan to try and like new foods

roman was the one who got him to try crofters

watches those long ass video essays about random topics on youtube for background noise

patton:

round glasses and heart eyes

has roller blades/skates! specifically these ones that retract the wheels. good way of getting energy out (even if hes super clumsy with them)

tallest + dad bod

tons of bandages, kinda playing around with the phrase ‘broken heart’

him and janus play video games together (both of them are terrible lol)

definitely listens to dad rock/dad music

roman:

starry eyes!

crown can float on its own (same w/ remus’)

has one of these couches in his room to dramatically faint onto

him and remus dont share a room, but they have a sort of portal to each others rooms if that makes sense. a big mirror but instead of reflecting, its showing into the other room and only the twins can go thru

wants to be his own side after the split

roman and remus pierced each others ears when they were younger

virgil:

decently tall but slouches a lot which hides it (slouching hes shorter than the twins but still taller than janus) also rarely stands or sits straight at all so it kinda shocked the core sides when he showed them how tall he rly was (queue roman being mad cuz hes actually the shortest of the main four lol)

has stereotypical emo hair and still has some purple dye in it

hot topic skeleton fingerless gloves and muddy sneakers (idk why it just feels right)

tons of random bruises

draws his nails black with sharpie

listens to metal music to calm down. remus got him into a lot of numetal, screamo kinda music when virgil was still one of the others, it was one of the few times theyd hang out and virgil wasnt 100% freaked out by remus

definitely experimented with scene fashion when thomas was a teenager

drinks tons of energy drinks

janus:

shortest ha

yellow eyes

bow wrapped on his hat

long flowy cape and heeled shoes with spats (thats what theyre called right?)

uses the staff from pof as a walking cane

speaks fluent pig latin, remus and logan are the only ones who can somewhat understand what he says (remus cuz hes been around janus so long, and logan wanting to research and understand whatever the hell janus is saying) it also has always drove virgil up the wall cuz hes never been able to get it, janus will start speaking it just to annoy him

only rly relaxes when by himself, always kinda putting on a mask with the others and thomas, regardless of how trustworthy he considers them

constantly coming up with proper plans and schemes, typically wouldnt let remus near them with a 10 foot pole (affectionately)

knows how to lockpick

scared of the ocean

remus: 

broken crown

eyes can go all crazy, pupils can be different sizes and such (there was a cartoon that did this where the eyes would go red and have a ton of rings around the pupils like spirals kinda? i cant find a pic of what im rly visualizing rip i hope that makes sense)

ton of rings (one of em is an eyeball ring)

is like half an inch taller than roman and will never let him live it down

enjoys all the ‘bad’ disney/pixar movies. (cars, home on the range, etc) and like unironically enjoys them. prolly started ironically to mess with roman but he genuinely find those ones the best and cant fathom why theyre disliked (totally not self-indulgent cuz some of those movies are my favorites)

comes up with random weird plans and ropes janus into them whenever possible, janus plays along best he can

somewhat wants to fuse back with roman (even if hes unsure why)

remus and virge used to make fun of roman together all the time

remus is the one who gave virge his septum and gages

[its-vannah]

Being in a relationship with Warren Rojas | Headcannons/Timeline

A/N: Sorry the GIF is so small lmao. Bit of angst in this one but it's got a happy ending, mentions death

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

- You and Warren met while he was working on boats to bring in some income to stay afloat while the band was on hiatus

- You had the whole privileged rich girl going for you, never daring to break the rules and wanting to protect your image. Warren, on the other hand, strolled into his first day working high as a kite.

- He did his job well, and when you got him lunch that day, as you did everyone who was working as a treat, he jokingly asked you to marry him as he scarfed down a sandwich.

- Your mother, a famous actress, and your father, a filmmaker, owned a boat that was in need of repairs and a cleaning.

- While your parents were at work, you sat on the edge of the dock with Warren, effectively dragging out how long it took him to do his work. But he enjoyed your company.

- The two of you made out in the captains quarters a few days after meeting. If it hadn't been for you seeing your dad pull up in his car, it probably would've gone further.

- You and Warren continued to sneak sround though, whether it was in his van, at his place, on the boat, on the beach. He had to keep a somewhat low profile as the band's popularity grew, so official dates weren't really in the cards.

- Once your father found out about your relationship with the drummer, he flipped out, immediately telling your mother. The two of them sat you down and told you that you were wasting your life on a nobody.

- You told them he's not a nobody, he means everything to you.

- Giving you an ultimatum, he said it was either them or him.

- You called Warren, waking him up at around midnight asking him to pick you up at the pub by your house.

- He came to get you, no questions asked

- When you got in the car, you started crying. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap as you let out your frustrations.

- You told him you didn't have a family to go back to. He said "bullshit" and asked if you wanted to elope.

- Figuring it couldn't get any worse, you agreed. You walked into your parents house, who thought you had come to your senses. But you walked right past them and went to your room, fitting anything and everything you could into bags and another suitcase, loading them into Warren's van. You left without another word.

- Warren drove you to Vegas and the two of you stopped by a dingy wedding chapel. You got changed into one of your white, lace sundresses and let your hair down. Warren wore a button up, actually snapping a few of the bottom buttons to "make it more formal" and jeans.

- The two of you exchanged vows and filed for a marriage license. While you weren't technically legally married yet, you had the ceremony out of the way.

- You moved into Warren's place, separate from the band, who didn't learn about your wedding until they broke up. There were many questionable things Warren did, but he wasn't going to make the mistake of letting the press get in the way of your relationship.

- The band asked what he was going to do now that The Six was finished, and he said he was going to go home to his wife. They laughed, thinking he was joking, but he was dead serious. He didn't wear a ring on his finger. Instead, he wore it on a chain around his neck. They thought it was a fashion choice.

- Graham was the first to meet you, introducing himself to you. He was surprised to find you seven months pregnant.

- Warren was thrilled at the idea of being a dad, and later asked Graham if he'd be the godfather.

- When you gave birth to your baby girl, you decided on the name Aurora James after the band's album and James because, well, you were running out of ideas.

- Your parents reached out and tried to bribe you to come back home and raise the baby, as Warren wouldn't be "a fit husband". You refused and told them never to contact you again.

- They went to the press and revealed that you were a disappointment to the family name. Warren carried you through it, saying you had his family name now. None of that mattered anymore.

- Warren got a job renting boats out to people and made a decent living on it, on top of the money he had from his days in the band and the royalties he still earned from the albums.

- When your second daughter, Daphne, was born, you and Warren took turns taking care of the girls. When you needed extra sleep, he'd balance them each on a hip and do his zoomba workouts.

- Your third child, a boy who you named Reggie because Warren liked the way Reggie Rojas sounded, kept the two of you on your toes. He was his father made over.

- Warren eventually sold his business, not before buying one of his own, and made millions off of it. The two of you sailed around the world after your kids left for college. Or, in Reggie's case, to pursue music.

- Warren passed before you did, which broke your heart. You continued sailing, staying closer to home and not going too far out in his memory, letting the breeze take you in the right direction.

- You attended his posthumous induction into the Rock Hall of Fame with your children and grandchildren. You also witnessed your son being inducted before your ultimate death a few years later.

[sugurusdiscordmoderator]

barista suguru and reader has the biggest crush on him that they try to ask him out but got too nervous to do so!! however.. reader suddenly see him at a party they were invited in, and what does alcohol do to a person sometimes? confidence, and they hook up (eventually got together??) I'm not sure if this request makes sense, and English isn't my first language..

omg hi anon thank you for the ask - not sure if you're an AOT fan but @humanitys-strongest-bamf has an amazing fic similar to this w Levi and its god tier

anywaysss here we go <3

(The ages in this are all fucked up lol, Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji are 22 and Gojo, Geto, and Shoko are like 25)

content warning: Haibara and Nanami are lovers lmao, weed, alcohol, cigarettes, hookup culture

(this is my original drawing please do not repost)

-

Being well known on your college campus is a blessing and a curse. You loved being involved in a lot of clubs and participating in social events. Going to the library or trying to study was nearly impossible with how many people knew you. However being a senior, you needed to focus and get things done. You lived a little ways off campus to save money and started frequenting a little coffee shop a few blocks from your apartment.

The first time you stopped, you had been walking home from class when a storm with bad winds blew in, and you decided to just study in this cafe until the storm passes. There are little tables all throughout, you grab one near the back and pull out some of your course materials and get started writing notes and going over chapters for your quiz in a few days. That is when a yawn washes over you and the exhaustion from late nights sets in. You figure you might as well get a drink while you're at this coffee shop.

Walking up to the counter you squint up at the menu board trying to decide what you're in the mood for.

"What can I get for you?" a man's voice asks.

Lost in your indecisiveness you don't even look down to make eye contact reading between Americano, Latte, Cold Brew, etc.

"Mmmm, not sure yet, I may need a few minutes," biting your bottom lip thinking about how much caffeine you want to intake today.

"We also have a list of specials down in front of you," he says politely and you see him walk away out of your peripherals.

The thing is, you're not a huge coffee person. Half the time it's too sweet, half the time it's too bitter. The caffeine gives you jitters and makes you anxious. Also sometimes coffee just messes your stomach up so you just have given up on expensive coffee places and opt for making your own shitty coffee at home.

You glance down at the specials list, reading them to yourself,

"Almond Joy Latte

Sparkling Green Tea Refresher

Pink Velvet Cold Brew

Barista's Choice"

You finally look up at the employee, a tall man that is turned around cleaning the espresso machine. His hair is pulled back into a cute bun and his frame is just large. You look at his hands, so large and strong with some veins protruding. He has a black button up on with the sleeves rolled up, exposing tattoos on his forearms. Matching it with black pants and a black apron, he looks kind of dark and mysterious.

He turns around and catches your eye, forgetting all the words that were about to form in your head.

"Still need a minute?" He squints his eyes a little and smiles softly as your eyes rake over his whole face. He has a piece of black bangs sticking out from the bun, pierced ears, a lip ring, amber eyes, and an amazingly chiseled jaw. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out and you can feel the heat spread across your cheeks.

"Uh, I, sorry," you shake your head and try to laugh at your own stupor, "Can I do the barista's choice?"

He nods, "Any preferences?"

"Uhm, no, whatever you like," you completely lie through your teeth trying to seem chill. He taps in the order on the iPad at the register and flips it over for you to pay and sign. At least it isn't too expensive if you don't like it, but you eagerly press the "25%" tip button hoping Mr. tall, dark, and handsome appreciates it.

"I'll bring it over to you when it's ready," he smiles and nods his head towards where you were seated.

"Thanks," you smile awkwardly walking back to your course materials, although it's not like you'll be focusing on anything other than the barista soon. You not-so-casually watch him work, obsessed with a man you've hardly spoken to once.

A few minutes later he brings over a cute tea cup and saucer, and you immediately smile when he sets it down, seeing the little design on top.

"It's a dirty chai...like a chai tea latte with a shot of espresso in it and a little special touch. Let me know if you like it."

The man smirks and walks away before you can even properly thank him. You burn your tongue eagerly taking a sip too soon, trying to find another excuse to talk to him. You try to take your mind off of it by scrolling through instagram for a bit while drinking your latte but around this time of year its all couples and engagements and babies which only adds to how down bad you feel. You get a text from your friend Nobara letting you know that a friend of her friend, Megumi, is having a party Friday and the friend told Megumi who told Nobara that they could bring whoever. After deciphering the word vomit of a text she sent you you send back a "thumbs up emoji" letting her know you'll be there because nobody else has invited you anywhere yet.

You finish your drink and decide to pack up your stuff and head home, a few blocks in the rain won't hurt you. It might cool you off from thinking about the dreamy barista you just met. You set the cute mug on the counter, and he turns around when he hears the noise. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking 'how was it?'

"It was great," you smile, "uhm, have a good one," you slightly shrug and turn around to go before he can add anything, just like he did to you earlier.

-

The next few days are uneventful, you walk by the coffee shop every day on your way to campus, wondering if he is working or if you should go in, but not wanting to struggle to pick a drink or pay for coffee again.

On Friday Nobara walks back to your apartment with you, she commutes in to town so whenever there is a party or something going on she crashes on your couch. She eyes the little cafe, "Want coffee? I think tonight might be pretty fun from the sounds of it!" She practically squeals and you find it adorable how excited she is. "Sure" you grumble, holding the door open for her.

She waltzes right up to the counter, decisive as always, and knows exactly what she wants. You trail behind her, not seeing any employees at the counter, squinting up at the menu board yet again. That's when you hear giggling come from the back room and see the handsome barista come out with some supplies, followed by a cute girl with a short brown bob who seems to be helping him.

You can't help but think about his beautiful laugh, and how you can hear it again.

"See ya tonight Shoko" he says, putting his apron back on and refocusing his attention to Nobara.

"Bye Geto!" This so called Shoko calls back to him as she walks out the front door. You cant help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the way he was in the backroom with his apron off and laughing with a girl.

Like girl - quit being delusional, you just heard his name for the first time and he probably doesn't even know who you are.

"Y/n, what do you want?" Nobara interrupts your talk with yourself.

"I'll have what she's having," you say overly confident, smiling at Geto. They both side eye you and you just remain oblivious, opting to go on your phone as you let your friend pay for your coffee as payment for her 'hotel' for the night. The two of you move out of the way and stand off to the side waiting for your drinks while Nobara talks about how Megumi's other friend Yuji is going to be there tonight with his big brother Sukuna and how excited she is because they're both sooo attractive. You nod your head along with what she says while scrolling on your phone. It's not that you don't care what she's saying, it's just that she knows so much about everything. All the gossip on campus is at your fingertips because of her, good or bad. You zone out staring at whatever drinks the barista is making, watching his damn good looking hands do his job. He walks over to you with two cups and you can't help but just stare at him. His outfit today consists of jeans and a tight black tshirt with a flannel jacket over top.

"Two iced matcha lattes with coconut milk and a strawberry cold foam on top," He smiles as Nobara eagerly grabs both of the drinks and hands one to you.

She sips it right away, "This is the best I've ever had thank youuu," she dramatically draws out while pulling you out the door heading to your apartment again. You look back to see him watching you leave and give a small wave with the hand that is holding your drink. You can't tell if you're imagining it but you think you see a faint blush over his cheeks.

-

You and Nobara enjoy your typical pregame activities, getting ready together, listening to music, and sharing a blunt.

"The guy at the coffee shop was checking you out," she half slurs, talking while applying her lip gloss.

"What makes you say that?" You think she's messing with you but you also hadn't told her about your little crush.

"When I was ordering he was staring at you the WHOLE time. Like he didn't even make eye contact with me I don't think!" She wines, "God it's not fair he's so gorgeous."

"To be fair Nobara, you think most guys are gorgeous" You giggle and walk towards the freezer to grab some liquor. "Speaking of gorgeous men, who's party are we even going to tonight?"

"I think it's at some guy named Satoru Gojo's house? I guess he's good childhood friends with Megumi from when he didn't really have a dad." There goes your friend, sharing other people's business when she didn't really need to.

"Mmm," you nod and throw back a shot of liquor, "I think I had a class with him when I was like a freshman and he was a senior. A real interesting character."

"Maybe you can introduce me and I'll get lucky," Nobara raises her eyebrows at you.

"You will not be having sex on my couch." You say sternly before you both erupt in a fit of giggles. Gathering a few last minute things before heading out, you also grab a reusable shopping tote and fill it with a little bit of your own alcohol, you never know what they may or may not have at these kinds of parties.

-

Walking there was a little chilly but overall a nice night for the time of year. This guy must've gone to your school and hadn't left yet given the proximity of his house to your apartment and to campus.

You walk in and see Yuji Itadori right away with his friendly smile and big personality. He gives you both hugs and you know at least if Nobara doesn't get lucky with anyone else she can rely on Yuji.

Your energetic friend holds your hand as she searches the rest of the party to find her friend Megumi. He stands in the kitchen with a white haired man that you faintly think is this Gojo guy, both getting ready to shotgun a beer together. You and Nobara wait to see who wins before interrupting, grabbing drinks out of the cooler and setting down your bag with liquor and hard seltzers in it. It appears that Gojo finishes just a second before Megumi and you hear Nobara interrupting, "Gumi what was that?! You lost like a little bitch?"

He groans in response but ultimately smiles, "Why am I friends with you again?"

"Because you've been stuck with me since high school."

Watching the altercation, Gojo comes up to you and asks, "You're with them?" Nodding his head at the two immaturely arguing.

"Sadly." you respond taking a swig of your drink.

"I'm Satoru Gojo, this is my place, thanks for coming." He eyes you over top of his black round sunglasses, making you feel like you may be wearing too revealing of clothes.

"I'm y/n, thanks for the invite by proxy," You giggle as Megumi makes his way over to you.

"Y/n, good to see you," the spikey haired boy gives you an awkward side hug, and a little kiss on the top of your head. Satoru raises his eyebrows at the two of you and you roll your eyes. When Megumi and Nobara get distracted and head into another room you fill him in. "Megumi and I may have hooked up once or twice when we were drunk," You blush, revealing your secret that hardly anyone knew to this stranger.

"Mhmm, seems like more than once or twice," Gojo sips his drink and sighs dramatically, leaving the kitchen to you alone.

Just then the back door of the kitchen that leads to the back yard creaks open. You turn to see who it was out of instinct, and recognize the girl with the brown bob from the cafe earlier today. She carries on past you not even really looking at you with her cigarette still lit in her mouth.

You see Nobara in the living room from your spot on the kitchen and mouth to her that you're going outside to smoke. She nods and thumbs up, but it seems that Yuji also read your lips and is interested in joining you.

You head out to the backyard, very dimly lit despite the pretty lights Gojo tried to hang up to make it look more aesthetic. You pull out a dab pen and a cigarette and hold them up for Yuji to take his pick. His eyes light up at the weed pen and he takes a huge inhale.

"God Yuji, careful," you laugh and proceed to take a smaller hit.

Your laugh seems to attract the attention of another group standing outside, and you immediately quiet yourself.

"Do you have a light?" One of them asks although you can't make out names or voices and even if you could you don't know many people here.

"Yeah," you respond, digging out a baby pink lighter that has a "Daddy's Girl" sticker on it, a joke that one of your friends gave you. Hopefully its dark enough that they can't see it.

A blonde guy approaches you to grab it, "Thanks, we have some seats over here if you guys want." Yuji happily follows but you're a little apprehensive. However they do have a firepit going so it is a little brighter over there.

"I'm Kento, this is my boyfriend Yu," the two introduce themselves, lighting their cigs at the same time with your lighter. You take another small hit of your pen as the brunette one comments, "Nice lighter." It makes you cough on your smoke a bit but eventually turns into laughter, "Thank you," You smile grabbing it back from them.

Yuji seems to be a little high from his rather large puff earlier, and you ask, "I'm going to go check on Nobara, you need anything?" He smiles and shakes his head and starts some conversation about an underground fight club with the two guys as you walk back inside. You enter back into the kitchen, grabbing another drink and heading into the living room where you last saw Nobara. She is having a heart to heart with some girl that graduated last year that you know of named Maki. They both have been drinking and just are smiling and agreeing with everything the other says.

She suddenly turns to you when she realizes you're standing there, "Your lover, he's here." She abruptly turns back around ignoring your inquiry of who she is referring to. You see Gojo and Megumi talking in the kitchen and decide to go talk to them instead of standing there looking awkward. You couldn't see from the angle you were at, but the brunette bob cigarette girl was also standing with them chatting.

Gojo waves you over to the conversation, putting a playful arm around your shoulders. "So sweetheart," Satoru starts, slurring his words a little more than he was the last time you talked to him, "Were trying to place bets on who's going to hook up with who tonight."

"Shoko has money on Suguru and Yuki, Megumi bets on Nobara and Yuji, and me, well I have money on you and Megumi." The four of you errupt in laughter and yelling over top of each other of who is correct.

"What are we arguing about?" Another voice asks that just came into the kitchen. You turn to see who it is with Gojo's arm still loosely hanging onto you.

"Suguruuuu" Satoru coos, "Finally joined the party! Shoko here thinks you're going to hook up with Yuki tonight."

"Like hell," he mutters looking to see who his best friends choice of girl is for the evening, before his eyes land on you. You can't help but drop your jaw at the beautiful barista from the cafe standing in front of you. It looks like he just showered, wet hair which is half up half down, and you can smell the fresh body wash radiating off of him.

"Who'd you bet Satoru?" Suguru questions, still having his eyes focused on you.

"I bet little miss y/n here and her boy toy Megumi." He responds and your cheeks flush at the fact this beautiful man may think you're not interested because of Gojo's fat mouth.

"Who'd you bet on?" Shoko asks directed towards Geto.

"I'll have to get back to you on that," he turns to get a drink from the cooler before taking a step outside, you assume to smoke.

You excuse yourself from under Satoru's arm, leaving him Megumi and Shoko to talk about more random gossip. Heading to the backdoor, you try to build up some courage to introduce yourself to this Geto guy. Much to your dismay, as you are walking out of the door in your own thoughts, another person was coming through the door to go inside but was a lot more solid than you. Bouncing back onto your ass you giggle, "I'm so so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you look up to meet the amber eyes you've been thinking about for the past week. It feels like the wind has gotten knocked out of you seeing how close your faces were with him grabbing your hand to help you up.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to knock you over like that,” he slightly laughs. “I’m just grabbing a lighter,” letting go of your hand holding the door open.

“Oh I have one here!” You pull it out of your pocket kicking yourself for showing it to someone else again. Well maybe it will at least start a conversation. You hand it to him and he lights his cigarette, not making a comment and hands it back to you. You also decide to light a cigarette, trying your best to look cool doing it but because of the wind you’re having a little trouble. Suguru sticks up his hand to block the wind for you. His damn hands. It’s like as big as your face up close and you say “thanks” with the cigarette hanging out of your mouth now lit.

“Y/n? Is that your name?” He breaks the silence first.

“Yes, are you Suguru?” You ask sweetly back

“Suguru Geto, the one, the only, barista extrodinaire,” he laughs and draws a puff.

“I like your laugh.” You blurt out, now realizing your judgement is a little impaired from your weed alcohol and nicotine pairing. “Sorry that just kind of came out.”

“That’s okay,” he stares at you with kind eyes ashing his cigarette against Gojos house.

“Did you like the matcha today?” He asks after you don’t respond.

“Actually no,” you bust out laughing, “I don’t like matcha I was just distracted when she was ordering.”

“Distracted by what?” He asks.

“You,” you realize how close your faces are and how intimate the moment is with your glowing cigarettes and how intoxicating the mix of his smell is.

He nods and smirks at your response, glancing down at your lips. “I think I want to get to know you more y/n.”

You gather all the courage that you haven’t had with this man for the past few days and put it all in your lips and lean in to kiss him. He kisses back, graciously, putting his hand against the back of your head as you place your hand on his hard pec. He depends the kiss, moving his lips passionately before entering his tongue into your mouth. His free hand wraps around your waist.

Just as things are getting intense you hear Nobara squeal in the kitchen, “GOJO LOOK!” You both break the kiss laughing, but still pressed up against him.

“I think I may know who my bet is on for tonight,” he winks and gives you another kiss, making your knees weak and release a tiny whimper into his mouth. You pray he didn’t hear it, but instead he asks, “needy daddy’s girl?”

You feel your cheeks grow so warm and cover your face with your hands. “Just kidding pretty girl, your lighter was cute though.”

—

reblogs and comment for a part 2 ?? 🤭🤭

[ashwhowrites]

i’ve had this idea for the longest time but i don’t have the time or skills to write it well>:(

bratty!eddie being jealous of reader being friends with steve. maybe they’re having a game/movie night with friends or even just baking together and steve does something particularly flirty and eddie tries to stand his ground and show that it’s upset him but it manifests in a childish sort of tantrum. (yk, as the lil mf does lmfao) and reader is a little upset with eddie until steve makes an unkind comment about eddie’s reaction, and she’s suddenly defending eddie w her life, cause no one talks about /her/ boy

tldr; i have mommy issues and i projected it onto you. i am so sorry

If there is anyone who loves someone that's got Mommy issues, it's definitely me. Don't feel sorry about projecting it on me ;)

Bratty Eddie is my baby so I'll definitely write it &lt;3

Eddie didn't mind that Y/N had friends...well he did but he wouldn't say that. He wanted to be the only focus her attention was set on. But he understood that isn't always possible. She had a job, she had coworkers, and she had a life outside of Eddie. He didn't relate to that. He breathed her and that was all he needed. He didn't care to have friends or go to work for hours at a desk job. He wanted all his hours devoted to her.

And when she said she was inviting a work friend over for dinner, he promised to be on his best behavior. She made a list of all the things she needed from the store, sending her sweet boy off to run her errand while she went to work.

Eddie didn't want to let her down, so he accepted the list and ran off to the store. Collecting every item she wrote down, blushing at the little descriptions of what the item would look like. He snuck a few candies that definitely were not on the list.

Once he returned home, he put all the groceries away. He started to get their house together, knowing the cleaning part was his to do during the days that she worked. She wanted it extra clean for the guest. Eddie didn't question the guest. He figured it was a woman she worked with and wanted to make a good impression.

He made sure to shower and tie his hair back. Staying clear of smoking any weed or cigarettes to make the house smell funky. He dug through his closet to find his fancier shirts. Grabbing a dark blue button-up and black jeans.

Eddie was putting on his rings when he heard the front door open. A huge smile on his face as he raced to the living room.

"Mommy!" He cheered excitedly, rushing to give her a kiss.

"Hi, baby. You look handsome as ever" she smiled, pecking his lips.

"Thank you," he said shyly, feeling his cheeks turn red.

"Steve is coming in two hours so I have to start dinner right away. You want to help?" She asked, walking into the kitchen to wash her hands.

But Eddie was stuck on the name. Steve sounded like a boy's name. She invited a man over for dinner?

"um, Steve?" Eddie squeaked out. He didn't want to sound as insecure as he felt. Was Steve attractive? Did he like her? How did they meet?

"Yeah! He works at my office. He's training under me for a position so I invited him over to get to know each other." She shrugged like it was no big deal. But Eddie was going off the walls.

"He's training with you? As in he'll be following you around the whole time at work?" Eddie questioned.

"Yeah, but it's no big deal. I'm all yours." She reminded him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

~~~

Turns out Steve was gorgeous and Eddie hated that. He had a pretty boy smile and charming eyes. Eddie grew more nervous as he saw similarities between him and Steve. Dark hair to go with their dark eyes, both have a nerdy sense of humor, and both have that look of adoration in their eyes when they look at Y/N.

If Y/N was attracted to Eddie, there's a big chance she would be attracted to Steve too.

Eddie pouted all throughout dinner. Listening to Steve's countless stories, all of them making him sound like the most perfect man in the world. Eddie hated the way it made him so insecure.

He hated the way Y/N's eyes followed Steve's every move as he told a story, her attention locked in on him.

Once they finished dinner, Steve offered to help with the dishes.....suck up. Eddie always got to help with the dishes.

But Y/N welcomed the help and both worked on the dishes by the kitchen sink. Eddie watched from the table, well watching Steve more than anything.

He hated the way Steve licked his lips as he watched her. The way Steve's eyes looked like they wanted to devour her, with no care that Eddie was sitting right there.

Eddie's last straw was when Y/N accidentally lost her grip on the plate, plunging into the sink and causing the water to splash all over her white shirt. The red lace bra easily shows itself. And easily catches both of the boy's eyes in the room.

"wow Y/N, wear that just for me?" Steve smirked. Y/N assumed it was a careless joke so she laughed and brushed it off. But Eddie took it as pure disrespect. This guy was disrespecting her, their relationship, and him all at once.

"HEY!" Eddie shouted, hitting the table as he stood up.

Y/N quickly looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes told him not to do whatever he was going to do. Steve looked at him confused and that pissed Eddie off more.

"You don't talk to her like that! She didn't wear it for you and she never will." Eddie snapped, crossing his arms to seem more intimidating.

"Just a harmless joke, man," Steve said, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm.

"It's not harmless. You are making comments about her body. That's not a body you get to admire! It's mine!" Eddie pouted, losing his intimidation immediately when he stomped his foot.

Y/N let out a big sigh, knowing exactly what an Eddie stomp let to. He was seconds away from a tantrum.

"Baby, let's relax before you get upset." She said softly. Wiping the soap off of her hands before she walked over to him.

She kissed his pouty lips, keeping her voice low as she spoke against his lips, "Head to bed and I'll be right there and we'll talk."

Eddie huffed but accepted her order. Uncrossing his arms and shuffling out of the room.

She took a deep breath when she heard the bedroom door slam hard.

"I'm sorry about that." She apologized, walking back over to Steve.

"Sorry about his little hissy fit? He's like a man-child." Steve snickered

But Y/N didn't find anything funny.

"He was upset and he had a right to be. Your comment shouldn't have been made and especially not in front of my boyfriend. You disrespected him in his own house. And now? You disrespected me by talking about him like that. You can get the hell out of my house." She snapped. Stomping over to the front door and yanking it open.

"Look, it was a joke! I didn't mean to upset anyone" Steve tried to explain.

"Well, you did. We'll talk at the office but right now, please leave" she ordered. And just like Eddie would, Steve followed her order in seconds. Grabbing his jacket as he walked himself out the door.

Before she closed the door she called his name, "And Steve?" He turned around, "If you ever talk about him like that again, I won't hesitate to get your ass fired." Then she slammed the door.

~~~

"Baby?" Eddie turned his head as he heard a soft knock on the bedroom door.

"Open, Mommy," he said, turning his head back to face the wall when she walked in.

She crawled onto the bed, grabbing his small waist as she turned him on his back. His red puppy eyes stare at the ceiling.

"You want to talk about it?" She whispered, moving her hand to undo the bottom buttons of his shirt. Exposing his tummy as she began to draw small circles against the skin.

Eddie hummed at the comfortable feeling.

"I'm sorry I embarrassed you." He whispered, eyes still on the ceiling.

"you didn't, baby. You had every right to put him in his place." She reassured him.

"Why did you send me away then?" He asked, this time looking down at her.

"I wanted you to calm yourself down, that's all," She said, giving him a small smile as she finally was able to make eye contact.

"Not embarrassed of me?" He whispered, his hand moving down to land on hers. Now causing her hand to rest against his stomach.

"Never," she said, moving up to kiss his lips. He kissed her back instantly, loving how safe he felt underneath her touch.

She pulled away and stared at him for a few seconds. Sensing something in his head as he kept looking down at her bra.

"You want to cum on it, don't you?" She laughed. Eddie blushed immediately, she could feel the hand on hers get wet with sweat.

"a little" he squeaked out, hips wiggling when her free hand moved to unbutton his black jeans.

"after all, it is your bra" she teased.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingwicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

Bratty Eddie tags

@simping-over-boys-with-trauma @capricornrisingsstuff @somnialol @buginnettesstuff @thegemaqua @skyline4446

@bunnyweasley23 @leahhs-things

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

angst w happy ending/fluff + fake dating + “was any of this even real” with stewy PLEASE 🙏 honestly i will take ANYTHING stewy but i feel like this fits him…

Play Pretend.

44. "Was any of this even real?" + h. Fake dating + 4. "Marry me."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. this is a part of my campaign to become your favourite stewy writer x

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing

Word Count - 810

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

You never meant for it to go this far. Neither of you did.

Stewy had cruised into your bar one night, and you'd hit it off. Several whiskeys later, he's making you an offer you can't refuse.

He proposed that you be his girlfriend for any and all events that he had to attend with a date. In return, he promised to help connect you with some important people in the art world. You'll have a gallery of your own in no time, he'd said.

That was 8 months ago.

At first, it was fun. He'd send a fancy gown to your apartment, request that you be wearing it by 8pm sharp. He'd pick you up in a shiny car, and keep you on his arm all night. It was like you were living in a whole different world. You enjoyed it.

But the more you two pretended, the realer it became. You spent hours laughing, teasing each other, talking the nights away. You got to know each other, bared pieces of your soul. Now, it's bordering on something more.

You've fallen head over heels in love with him, and he sees you as a fake date.

You're stupid, and you know it. You should have known from the moment you met him that his charm would wear you down. That beaming smile, the grey streak in his hair, the way his hands were always warm. You'd fallen hard, and there was no going back.

You're panicking. You're scrambling around, looking for the eject button. You know if you keep going, you'll reach a point of no return. So, you do the only thing you can think of. You cut it off.

Can't do tonight, you'd texted. No explanation, no apology. You felt guilty, of course you did - you know he needed someone at the gala with him. But you were trying to protect yourself.

You'd expected him to reply fuck you then! and be done with it. But when has Stewy Hosseini ever been predictable? Instead, he's banging on the door of your apartment so hard you're worried he's going to break it down.

"Sweetheart, what the fuck is going on? Open this door before I kick it down!"

"Don't kick it," you yell back. "You'll ruin those Louboutins I know you're wearing."

"Open. The. Door."

"Aren't you supposed to be at the gala by now?"

You know it isn't exactly mature to be yelling through the door at each other, but it feels easier, somehow.

"Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Just tell me what I did and I'll fix it!"

That's your breaking point. You swing open the door to be met with Stewy in a navy blue suit, dressed up to the nines.

"You can't fix it," you murmur.

"Let me try," he begs, moving closer to you.

"Look, Stewy. Thank you, for everything, really. But I'm done. I can't do it anymore."

You sound so sure of yourself. His heart shatters so hard, he wonders if you hear it break.

"Was any of this even real?" he whispers, looking at you intently.

"... What?"

"Was any of this even real? I mean, I know it wasn't at the start, but I thought... I just... Nevermind."

"What did you think?" you ask gently. He isn't making sense, and it's putting you on edge. He's usually so assured.

"I thought - I thought this was something. I know you were my fake girlfriend, but I thought you were at least my real friend."

"I am your friend," you reassure, wrapping your arms around his middle instinctively. "That's why I can't do this anymore. Because we're friends. It's not fair."

You're holding onto each other for dear life. You both think this is the last time you'll get to do this.

"I thought you loved me," he whispers into the top of your head. "How stupid was I?"

You pull away to cradle his face in your hands, looking at him carefully.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"No, Stewy. Say it again. Please."

"I said, I thought you loved me. Guess it was all just pretend," he laughs dryly, no real humour in it.

"Oh my god," you chuckle. "We're so stupid."

"Speak for yourself," he mutters.

"I do love you," you laugh. "I thought you didn't love me. I thought you were just pretending."

"I don't think I was ever pretending."

With that, you lunge at him, smashing your lips to his. He tastes like peppermint and smells like his woody cologne and it's everything you've ever dreamed. He pulls back to wrap his arms around you, spinning you around the living room.

"You know, I think we should just skip the rest. What's the logical next step? Marriage? You wanna marry me?"

"Easy there, Casanova," you tease. "Take me on a real date first."