#i like to think of it as my body taking advantage of being able to A actually sleep and B sleep uninterrupted for once lol

[bring-forth-his-sac]

so I watched The Losers (yes, because I wanted to gawk at JDM for 90 minutes) and I kept noticing how much he held his partner's hand in it😭💕 and so of course I had to write a lil drabble about this but with Negan lmao

tags: mentions of nudity, aftercare, established relationship, this is seriously just goofy idk why I wrote this

I didn’t proof read this, pls be kind xoxoxoxoxoxo

word count: 950

Bated breaths, shaky legs and a whole lot of sweat. That’s how your night has been going. 

The trail of discarded clothes that leads to the bed is a testament to the passion of the last few hours. Catching your breath, the cool air caresses your bare skin as you sprawl out on the soft bed sheets.

Beside you is Negan, his breathing just as ragged. You both lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling and completely worn out. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of your mingled breaths of recovery.

A hum escapes your lips when you feel Negan’s touch. His hand finds yours, fingers interlocking in a gentle embrace. Negan lets out a content sigh, his voice tinged with satisfaction as he remarks “Now that was quite a workout”.

He runs his other hand through his tousled hair as parts begin to curl and flick out in different directions. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week,” you groan, though you’re not complaining.

Negan chuckles, nudging you closer to him “Guess I did a damn good job then, huh?”. Taking the hint, you roll over, momentarily letting go of his hand as you reposition yourself.

You pay no attention to the brief pout that crosses Negan’s face. His shift of expression only lasts momentarily, quickly fading once you take his hand again and interlock your fingers with his. 

“You wanna have a bath?” Negan offers. He knows you’re both exhausted but the thought of sharing a moment of intimacy with you in the suds has its own allure.

“Honestly? I think I just wanna change into something comfy and sleep until noon” you admit, the prospects of a bath sounding more like a chore than a luxury. Tomorrow you’ll shower and start fresh. Tonight, after the last few rounds you’ve had, you just want to sleep.

“Sounds like a plan” he agrees with a weary grin. 

With a groan, you move to get up, giving Negan’s hand a small squeeze as you go to release your grip. But you don’t. You can’t. As you sit up on the bed, your hand stays entangled with Negan’s.

You glance down at your joined hands and then back up at him.

Your voice is laced with amusement as you try to break free from his grip. “…Negan,” you say, shaking your hand as if you're trying to shake off droplets of water “y’know I kinda need my hand back if I want to get dressed”.

Negan looks up at you, his expression almost comically petulant. The look in his eyes is one of sheer stubbornness and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“So if I don’t let go, you’re staying butt-ass naked?” He smirks, his gaze roaming over you.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Let. Me. Go. Put. My. Clothes. On” you punctuate each word with a tug of your hand, trying to pry his fingers away from yours as you stand up by the edge of the bed. 

But despite your best efforts to free yourself, he easily holds on, his long limbs giving him the advantage.

“C’mon now, don’t go running off,” Negan teases, his grip unwavering but gentle as he attempts to pull you back on to the bed “aftercare is good for ya, and I gotta take care of my girl!”.

“Clothes are good for me too!” You try to argue back, not caring if you’re being just as silly as him.

Negan chuckles and makes no attempt to hide the way his eyes rake over your body, appreciating every curve and contour. “Yeah, well, not when I'm around”. 

With a sudden yank from Negan, you let out an “oof” sound as you collide with him, finding yourself laying on his chest yet again, pressed against his warm, naked body. He gives you a smug grin, squeezing your hand in his, just to let you know he’s won this silly little battle. 

“Hmph” you try to give him a glare but he quickly steals a kiss from your lips, completely wiping your scowl away. 

You look down at Negan, a soft smile playing on your lips as he lays beneath you, his hand holding yours against his chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart and the tickle of his chest hair on your wrist. Negan meets your gaze, his eyes drinking in your face with deep affection.

Damn him. As much as you have him wrapped around your finger, you’re most definitely wrapped around his too. “Fine, we can do it your way,” you relent, snuggling closer and resting your head on his chest “but I swear if one of your men come barging in here—“

“Then they’ll be going on the fence with the rest of the dead pricks, don’t you worry, baby” he reassures you, kissing the top of your head. 

As you close your eyes to relax, Negan lifts his head up, quickly scanning the bed for any blanket within reach. He spots the one hanging off the bottom of the bed and internally debates whether it's worth the effort to reach it. 

Negan lets his head fall back down on his pillow, abandoning the idea of blankets for now. Instead, his eyes travel over you appreciatively, taking in every dip and contour of your bare skin. He lets out a sigh, becoming certain that a blanket isn’t needed for now.

After all, why would he want a blanket to cover his amazing view?

[the-cookie-of-doom]

for a while now, I've really been doubting my career choices with nursing. I know a lot of it is burn out and depression, and being so overwhelmed between work, school, and clinical, that I didn't have time to breathe. I was in the hospital/on campus for 60 hours a week last semester, and that's not counting the time I had to study outside of that. It was awful. I quit my job because of it, I was almost involuntarily committed because of it.

But the scariest part for me has been how much I've hated clinical. It makes me miserable. And that's terrifying, because once I graduate? That's what I'm going to be doing for the rest of my life. So if I already hate it now, what does that mean for my future?

Sometimes, though... Sometimes I'll have a clinical that is just so good, it reminds me of why I'm doing this. Why I'm putting myself through the pain and suffering of becoming a nurse, which is honestly one of the hardest careers a person can have. It's mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausting. It destroys your body and your mental health. Most of the time it's thankless. It doesn't pay nearly enough for what we go through.

Despite all of the reasons there are not to become a nurse, there are some patients that will remind you why it's all worth it anyway.

Last week, I had a crotchety old bitch of a patient. She had been in the hospital for 10 days, was refusing all of her treatments, screamed at anyone that came in her room, and demanded dilaudid around the clock, despite having no injuries to justify it. Everyone hated her. Her own nurses went in her room as little as possible; I think in the entire 12 hours I was there, her nurse spent maybe a total of 20 minutes in her room. I was in there for hours. A couple minutes at a time in the beginning just so she could warm up to me. Then I spent 2 straight hours at her bedside just talking to her. Letting her tell me her life story. Which was tragic, of course, and no wonder she was so run down and bitter and wanted to get high off narcotics. She was miserable, lonely, and in chronic pain from a body that was deteriorating around her.

So I spent as much time with her as possible. Sure enough, she didn't ask me for any pain medications a single time, once she realized she could trust I was going to look after her. I Explained her medications and her treatments, and the reasoning behind them. I offered to reach out to out chaplain when I noticed she was hyper focused on some televangical broadcast. I got her to call her son to come visit her. I got her to agree to take her medications and allow us to take blood sample for her labs, which were days overdue. I got her up and working with physical therapy so she could start walking again.

By the end of the day, that patient loved me. Not a single complaint all day, she wasn't screaming down the halls and cursing everyone's existence. She was still crotchety and mean in that way old hillbillies are, but she wasn't angry. She wasn't lashing out. She was finally being cooperative. All because I took the time to talk to her and offer her company.

Tonight, I had a shift in our mental health unit. There was a patient who I noticed was very withdrawn and avoiding everyone, mostly just standing in a corner at the end of the hall, by a window. I went down and talked to him. Kind of stilted at first, but slowly he opened up to me. I really only meant to talk for a few minutes, mostly for my own sake, to get used to interacting with mental health patients like this.

Instead, we talked for hours. Nearly 3 hours straight at the start of the day alone, and then more throughout the day. My feet were killing me by the end of it, but it was completely worth it to see the way this poor guy came to life. We talked about everything from social topics like music and movies, to his medications and treatments, and how to manage his depression once he leaves. Something I was able to connect with him about on a personal level in a way his nurse hadn't, because I've been living with depression for a decade, I've been on antidepressants, and I understand. I think that was the point it clicked for him, when he really started reaching out to me, instead of answering when I prompted him. Because humans need connection and understanding.

By the end of the day he was talking freely and smiling nearly non-stop. We'd made plans for him to get back into an old hobby he hadn't touched in years, and he seemed genuinely excited to start it back up again. He was nearly bouncing in place when I went to say goodbye to him at the end of the night, and thanked me for talking to him all day. Even the staff nurses noticed the way his demeanor had completely changed.

Another patient (my actual patient for the night) started the day very combative. To the point she had to be redirected to her room (not locked up, just strongly encouraged to go and cool down). She was screaming at everyone, having some very serious and severe delusions. Same story; I talked to her throughout the day, little bits whenever she was feeling calm. I noticed she had a tattoo from an old semi-niche XBox game I used to play, and we bonded over that. By the end of the shift she loved me. Kept asking me if I'd gotten lunch/dinner, made sure all the other patients on the unit got their snacks, told us all to get some rest once it was curfew for the unit (we had to stay another 2 hours) and said we could use the spare bed in her room if we needed. Which sounds really weird but coming from her was incredibly sweet. Again, total attitude change.

I am very cognizant of the fact that the way I approach my patient care is largely a privilege of still being a student. It's easy for me to stand at a patient's bedside for 2 hours straight and listen to her life story when I have nothing better to do, let alone 3 other patients to take care of. But that nurse didn't talk to her at all. Even when she was in the room, she dismissed everything the patient said. The mental health nurses? Most of their time is spent in the nursing station gossiping and messing on their phones. There's no reason for them not to put in the extra effort of spending time with their patients. And especially there, it can have such an impact.

All of that is to say, I love the relationships I'm able to build with my patients. It's so important for me to be able to connect with people like this, to make them feel seen and cared for and important. No one wants to be treated like an inconvenience, especially not while they're in the hospital, sick and hurt and exhausted and in pain.

Nights like these are why I'm going into this field. I love medicine and I always knew I would end up in the hospital, I've always wanted to be able to save someone's life. But I think now that I've grown up and I'm actually working with these patients, I've come to see not only how rewarding it is to save someone's life, but to nurture that life, too.

[marxism-transgenderism]

Like my big problem with the whole "NO CIS MEN" specific policy that's so socially enforced in queer spaces (not like you putting that under your nudes or whatever the fuck, but the specific fear and ostracization of cis men as threats in trans groups online and irl) is that that policy is necessarily and unavoidably going to target trans women.

Its going to target questioning and closeted girls who are looking for a space to crack their egg. It's going to target out and proud transfems and amab nb people who are looked at with suspicion as just "faking it" to get access to "resources" or in order to take advantage of and assault the "real queer people" who are always necessarily assumed to be afab, petite, and only ever capable of being victims instead of perpetrators of abuse. And it covers up and hides the actual abuse that takes place in these places because abusers in these spaces are going to be inherently looked at as innocent because they are not cis men.

You can bring along your cis girlfriend to the trans support group but if anyone dares to bring their cis boyfriend then they're ignoring others boundaries and endangering the group. This group is for "women and femmes" but if that femme has a penis or facial hair then their really just a rapist in disguise. Damn has anyone noticed that everyone here only knows about what testosterone does to your body but no one in the room can define what "anti-androgen" means.

I've seen this play out time and time again in my damn near decade of experience in this community, on and offline. And it's especially painful whenever I see another trans woman talking about how all cis men need to be kept away for everyone's safety because it just feels so "fuck you got mine." I was able to do the right make up and voice training and get on hormones early enough that I'm only viewed with a little bit of suspicion. But this is overwhelmingly enforced by afab trans and nonbinary people who think they're feminists cause they get mad when a man says "bitch" but will absolutely never question why they view people with vaginas as inherently safe and people with penises as inherently dangerous. I'm sick of it

[dwaekkicidal]

What is stray kids favorite position to have sex? What do you think? This been on my mind for while

the way I was actually thinking about this a few days ago LOL hope you enjoy <3

OT8's Favorite Positions (Rough+Soft Ver)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gender neutral, not pure smut but mentions of specific situations, Seungmin and Jeongin are mean in their 'rough' parts, switch mentions in Felix's part

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: these were SUPPOSED be short but i got a little carried away.. lol. also very poorly proofread cause I'm having sleep issues atm, once I sleep at least a few hours I'll come back to proof read (and probably tweak some things)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗

Rough

If he's fucking you during his Daddy/dom moments, a nice downward dog (flat doggy basically). As long as he can tower over you and fuck you until you remember your place, he's happy! Specifically downward dog because he can use those muscles he's been working so hard on to hold you down against the bed and be rough with his thrusts, all while not adding any extra strain to either of you. Runs his hands roughly up and down your back, leaving smacks to your ass before squeezing it right after. If he's in a particularly rough mood, will grab a handful of your hair to pull at and guide you.

Soft

I think he would be a big missionary person when he's making love to you. Likes to be able to see your face and leave kisses all over your frontside while he fucks you. Even more so if he's extra moody/sappy, so he can sloooowly fuck into you and keep his thick lips locked with yours, hands caressing up and down your body as he whispers all sorts of sugar coated praises to you. "You're doing so well for me." "God, I love you so much. You're fucking perfect."

𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚠

Rough

Good ol' doggy style for because he loooves the control it gives him over you >.< Has a hand between your shoulder blades (or on your lower back) to hold you down, all while his other hand holds your hip to pull you against him (or to land slaps to your ass cheeks). Even better for days he wants to be mean or is just lazy; instead of doing the work he can just make you fuck yourself against him while he degrades you and lands smacks to your ass. Calls you a greedy slut for needing him in your hole so bad and smirks when you clench harder and moan into the sheets

Soft

Also doggy because he can lean over you, controlling the pace to be slower or softer while his chest is pressed to your back. Will slide one of his hands against your stomach in order to hold you against him so he can leave kisses to your cheeks, behind your ear, and against your neck.

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚋𝚒𝚗

Rough

I think he'd love carrying you while fucking up into you. I discovered the name for the one I had in mind being: 'Aquaman's Delight' or 'H2Ohh Yeah' I absolutely hate the names but it's when you're facing him and he's holding you up, your legs off the floor and resting against his inner elbow. Loves it because he gets to show off how strong his is to you while simultaneously being able to bury deep when he lifts you, then drops you onto his dick. This position also allows you both to be intimate when necessary, loving gazes and messy kisses being exchanged as he fucks you against him like his own personal fleshlight

Soft

Big fan of face off (face to face & upright riding) for when he wants to be extra intimate. Will take advantage of the closeness this position allows. Holds you tightly against him as he fucks up into you, and will keep your lips locked against his as much as you allow him to. When you aren't kissing, his face is shoved into your neck as he moans against the skin there, placing kisses when he's not busy being distracted with how well you take him (mr. can't do 2 things at once)

𝙷𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚓𝚒𝚗

Rough

Likes taking you from the back; likes to bend you over every surface he can think of so he can watch your ass jiggle from his hips slamming against it. Likes it also because he can trap your hands against the flat of your back with one of his big hands OR can pull your hands back towards him and use it as leverage to fuck into you even harder than he was before. Def grabs handfuls of your ass any chance he gets. I could see him preferring to finish on your ass so he can watch his dick paint your ass cheeks like he does with his canvases. Some dirty talk here and there like "Yeah? 'M in your guts? But baby.... that's just. how. you. like. it." and thrusts between the last syllables

Soft

Any position he can be embrace you with, but specifically can see him being an (open legged) spoon lover. Something about holding you as close to him as physically possible while still being able to rut/grind his hips against yours nicely. Bonus points for open legged because it gives him easier access to play between your legs. The intimacy goes CRAAZY, his hands holding you in place while he fucks into you nice and slow. Def leaves wet kisses and hickies all over your neck. Only downside is when he strains his (and your) neck when he wants your lips on his. But when his hands are all over you like this, how can you say no to those pillowy lips? >.<

𝙷𝚊𝚗

Rough

A "Pretzel Dip" enjoyer. This is when you're laid on your back and he's straddling one of your legs as he holds the other up to his chest. Goes nice and deep like this, and can fuck into you roughly while still getting to see your face scrunch up. Uses it to his advantage if you try to hide your face from him or try to muffle your moans, will grab your wrists and use his grip on them to pull you into him as he thrusts forward roughly. It completely stops you from hiding from him and gives him the chance to see your mouth part and spill the prettiest whines at how deep he hits.

Soft

I had to google the name for this lol Likes rocking horse: kind of hard to explain but it's when he's sat with spread legs and you sit facing him, your legs spread and slotted on each side of him. Likes it because it lets you both stare into each other and grind your hips against each other at whatever pace feels good at the time. Some days it can be just messy, desperate grinding while others can be slow hip thrusts from both of you. This position also allows him to embrace when he wants you close. Will make out with you any chance he gets when he's not moaning and groaning.

𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚡

Rough

Basic bitch 69 enjoyer. Allows both sides to push for/give up control before any penetration takes place. If you like the back and forth, he'll be on the bottom and roughly rut his hips into your mouth while you grind down into him. Or if you want to avoid the fight, he'll immediately concede and let you ride his face until you're satisfied OR he'll take control and grab a handful of your hair, using it as leverage to control your head movements. Will land a playful slap or two to your ass, but loves squeezing/massaging the flesh there more than anything.

Soft

Another name I had to google lol Perch/Seated rear entry Specifically for moments when he's gaming. If he knows he won't be finished soon and you're too needy, he'll shove his shorts and underwear down and make you sit on his dick facing forward so you can keep yourself entertained. Mainly uses it for cock warming, but won't complain if you grind yourself down onto him or start riding him.

𝚂𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚖𝚒𝚗

Rough

Another doggy lover, BUT I'm gonna say cowgirl not only for the sake of not repeating so much, but also because he likes be a little mean with it. It lets him boss you around when you've given him full control (and lets him smack you around when you aren't going fast enough for his liking). He can lay back and smile at you all cockily while you ride his dick desperately, and depending on what your limits are he'll spew mean comments here and there. He's a little shit™ so I can see him smacking your ass to watch your hips slow and stutter, then have the audacity to go, "What are you slowing down for? I never said we were done."

Soft

When his in softer moods, another face off enjoyer: it allows him to hold you close and thrust himself up into you whenever you start getting tired. If his lips aren't against yours, then your foreheads are resting against each other so he can watch you melt into a puddle for him up close. His hands roam all over your thighs before going up to your hips then finally resting on your waist as he hugs you there and pulls you closer

𝙸.𝙽

Rough

Seashell!!! This is the name for when he has you folded, back against the bed and ankles by his head while he leans onto you, albeit this position does eventually hurt depending on your flexibility. (this is also the position used in the teasing fic I wrote for him) Sorry not sorry but still on my big dick!Jeongin agenda. This position lets him go deeeep.. so he always takes advantage of it to bully into you as much as possible. Makes him feel all dominant when you can't form sentences properly and basically drool while looking up at him so helplessly. Little shit™ #2 and will laugh in your face when you start crying from how deep he is. If it's within your limits, and will definitely mock you and tease about, "I thought you said you can take it? Why are you suddenly babbling like you have no brain?" and "Are you that cock dumb already? We just started haha." Straight up laughs at you & doesn't shut up

Soft

When he wants to be softer, missionary (aka still seashell but without the muscle strain). It allows him to be close to you, placing soft kisses all over your face while he fucks into you. Also does not shut up here, and will whisper chants of "Jagiya" against your neck as he sucks hickies there. If/When he praises you, I think he'd still be a little mean about it; "Fuck, Jagiya... Finally taking me without crying about it" teasingly and chuckles. Also a "You're doing so well for me. Keep squeezing me, Jagi. Yeahhh... just like that.."

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Can you write something for Sephiroth(pre-nibelheim) or Astarion? Your work is absolutely fantastic btw I’m in love with it ❤️❤️❤️

Not So Subtle

pairing : sephiroth x female!reader

summary : you have a teenage girl level crush on him, that you and zack talk (very loudly) about when you think no one can hear. but he does.

a/n : this takes place pre-nibelheim so everyone is happy and well! in honour of ff7 rebirth :)

“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” You snap your jaw shut, eyes moving to glare at the young, dark haired boy who has decided to break your daydream. 

“It wasn’t even open.” He plops down beside you, shoulder touching yours. 

“Mhm.. and you weren’t drooling over our superior.” 

“Your superior,” you correct, eyebrow lifted with pointed sarcasm. If you could stick your tongue out at him, without it seeming childish to everyone around you, you would.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a first class soldier either,” He points out, amused. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and his hand reaches to cover the area as he laughs.

Zack was younger than you, though he certainly never acted like there was an age gap. In his mind, you were the same age as him in some way or another. You had always trained together so you felt much closer in age even though you were at least 3 years older than him. At times, he felt like a younger brother to you.

Even more so when he found out you had a crush on the man he spent everyday training beside. Constant teasing, constant threats to spill your secrets, constant blackmail. You couldn’t even count the amount of times he had used your crush to his advantage on one hand. 

There was a time you had to put your foot down and tell him no more, cause it was wrong of course. But also mostly cause you were running out of money to buy his silence.

“Yeah but I'm older, closer to his age. So I don't have to talk to him like I'm below him, unlike some people.” 

“Can you even talk to him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then why are you sitting here staring..?” 

“He’s training..” 

“Mhm.” The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. Right now, it was the truth, Sephiroth was swinging his sword in the domed combat simulator, glass walls clear enough for you to see through. So the excuse of not being able to talk to him, out of fear of being sliced in half by his giant sword, was plausible. 

But any other time that you had sat staring at him, making no effort to speak to him, rendered that excuse inapplicable. 

“Shut it..” You push his shoulder with your elbow once more, and he snorts out a laugh. 

“I don’t get why you can’t just talk to him..” 

“Of course you don’t.. because you're obviously blind. Or you’ve been hit in the head one too many times in combat training.” You turn your gaze away from Zack to look back through the glass enclosing Sephiroth. 

His hair is tied up, hanging loosely against his back. It’s a rare sight, so you indulge yourself and stare a second longer than you should. It’s so relaxed, you think, compared to the seriousness of always having it pristinely down. There are stray hairs, flyaways, falling from the hair tie and hanging against his face. It’s unkempt, a nice contrast to his seemingly perfect lifestyle.

He swings his sword with calculated grace, a grace that you (or Zack for that matter) had yet to achieve. The control he held over his blade was impeccable, it never slipped or moved from his hold even when his hands were moving faster than his body could keep up with. Just another thing that had to be perfect in his life.

“How could I ever speak to him and not make a fool out of myself? For one, he’s first class, I'd totally ruin my chances of making first class if I said something totally outrageous. And knowing me, my mind would be so jumbled, I wouldn't even realize the words had left my mouth before he put me on some kind of ‘do not promote’ list.” 

“Oh so.. the only reason you won’t talk to him is because you're worried about making first class? Not.. I don’t know, maybe, the 12-year-old-girl-level crush you have on him.” Your hand slaps over his lips, eyes scanning around you. For the most part, no one looks at the two of you, and you figure the ones that are looking are doing so because of your hand covering Zacks blabbermouth. 

“Would you shut it?” Even with your hand covering his mouth, he manages to laugh at your widened eyes. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are a dead giveaway of his amusement. You remove your hand with a pointed look, one that says ‘keep it down’ in a far more subtle way than a hand over his face. 

“You’re so lucky you’re younger than me.” 

“More like so lucky you don’t want to make your boyfriend angry. Besides, you know I’m stronger than you.” 

“Mhm..” You roll your eyes, and with a sigh, you turn back to face Sephiroth. He stands still now and you realize all of the practice dummies have been broken. From your position, he doesn't even seem to have broken a sweat, even though he’s been in there for over an hour. His sword lies on the ground, thrown without care. 

Even with Zack beside you, and the silent teasing that exudes from his body, your eyes remain trained on Sephiroth. You realize it’s childish, to stare and never approach, but the idea of even standing next to him is enough to intimidate you. 

He runs his hand over his back, pulling the hair tie from his hair, allowing it to fall against his shoulders once more. He turns, presumably to leave the combat simulated, and his eyes meet yours through the glass. You knew your staring wasn’t subtle, it had never been before, but you had never expected to get caught. You had never been caught. 

You turn your head away so fast that Zack almost flinches, probably thinking you were going to hit him again. 

“Jesus,” he looks at you with confusion, “What’s the problem?” 

“He saw me.” 

“What?” 

“He saw me! Through the glass! He totally caught me staring at him..” You stare at Zack with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, before you head falls into your lap in shame.

“Would you relax? I guarantee he doesn’t care or he didn’t even see you. Maybe he was just looking at his reflection.”

You look back towards Sephiroth to see him leaving through the doors of the dome, and then you turn back to Zack with a pitiful whine. 

“This is so pathetic…” 

“I agree,” he smiles when you shoot him a glare, “Just talk to him.” 

“Talk to who?” A deep voice sounds from beside you, higher up than where you sit. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, and Zack's expression is enough to confirm your suspicion about who stands next to you. 

You turn your head to face Sephiroth, and he stares at you expectantly. You think you catch the slightest smirk building on the corner of his lips, but you also think you might just be trying to make yourself feel better. Standing, nowhere close to his height, you hold your hands up. Zack takes this as his sign to stand too. 

“Nobody! Angeal!” You fumble out words, trying to throw out a name before he grows suspicious. 

“Well which is it, nobody? or Angeal?” 

“Angeal. Yeah! Angeal, so.. um.. I should probably go find him.” 

“It just so happens that I have to find Angeal too, allow me to join you.” 

You want to throw the nearest chair at Zack, curse him for speaking so loudly. And you curse yourself for not thinking of an excuse in a reasonable time frame, so you just nod, and excuse yourself from Zack. 

He gives you a pitiful smile, and when you turn to look behind you for support one last time as you walk away he gives you a thumbs up. His face contradicts his hands, and he seems like he’s in a far less teasing mood. 

“Whatever you have to say to him, it must be important.” 

“Hm?” You tilt your head up and to the side to look at Sephiroth, you’ve been walking together for a few minutes now, mostly silently. 

“You're walking fast.” You shrug your shoulders and continue walking. 

At least until your steps are interrupted by him stepping in front of you. 

“Is there a problem?”

“What? Of course not!” He practically glares down at you, arms crossed over his muscular chest. You can see the outline of his defined chest muscles through the straps of his top. And you realize you're practically drooling over him, right in front of him so you force your eyes to meet his once more. But his glare is replaced by a smirk, and amusement in his eyes. 

“I see now..” 

“See what?” 

“Really? Do you think you’re subtle?” Your face flushes and once again you want the floor to open up and consume you whole, but you're stuck here. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Step back, you scream at yourself, but he moves closer and it’s impossible to move your feet. They feel like lead underneath you, not even giving way to a small shuffle backwards.

“No?” His hand reaches up to rest on your cheek, it's gentle, far gentler than you would’ve expected. But the way his fingers tense against your skin has you feeling fuzzy, “You think I don’t notice the way you stare? Hm?” 

He stares at you, thumb moving to the other side of your chin, holding your face in his hand. He maneuvers your face, moving it however he likes. You realize he’s examining the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part like you want to say something. His tongue gives a humiliating click when your lips close, and the words are lost. 

“I hear you, when you talk to Zack,” he stops his movement, stilling your face to look directly at him, “You’ve never been a quiet girl. Why are you so quiet now?” 

When you don’t respond his eyebrows scrunch, its subtle and almost missable because it’s gone in seconds. He’s not satisfied by your silence.

Sephiroth bends his shoulders, moving closer to your face, “Although, I suppose you’ve never been very talkative around me.” He moves closer still, swerving his nose to the side of your face until he’s able to speak in your ear, “That’s not very nice. You might hurt my feelings if you keep ignoring me.” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out meekly, you're honestly not even sure it’s audible at first but he laughs quietly, breath fanning on your ear. His other hand, the one that doesn’t hold your face, reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he pulls away. The breath that leaves your body is almost embarrassing. 

“What’re you sorry for, hm?” He stares expectantly down at you, eyes never leaving yours. 

“F…for ignoring you.”

“So you ignore me?” 

“No!”

“So you’re lying?” You shake your head as much as you can within the hold of his fingers, “Then what are you sorry for?” 

“For not talking to you.” 

“And why don’t you talk to me, I'm sure you know it’s rude to stare and never speak to someone.”

“Because..” His grip loosens, hand moving back to your cheek, thumb resting on your cheek bone. 

“Because why? Cmon use your voice, the one you use to talk about me with Zack.” 

You stare up at him pitifully, and the way words fumble from your mouth has you wanting to throw up, “Because I have this stupid crush on you, and I can't talk to you without getting nervous. I know it’s stupid and I should have told you sooner so you could reject me and I could move on and I never meant to offend you or-”

You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close until his nose touches yours, top lip brushing against yours as he tips your chin up towards him. Your words fall flat on your tongue when you meet his eyes, or rather when you see his eyes that are focused on your lips. 

“Offend me.. that’s sweet..” He’s so close to you, that every word has his lips brushing against your own again and again. 

“Sephiroth..?” You suppress the urge to move the tiniest bit forward so your lips can fully meet his. And you're sure your face is impossibly red. 

“You should’ve told me about this ‘stupid’ crush sooner, such a foolish girl. May I?” You're confused, what is he asking for? His eyes flicker up to yours before moving back to your lips. When you realize what he means you nod your head perhaps too eagerly. 

Slowly, to tease, his lips press against yours, palm pressing into the skin of yours to keep you in place. Eyes fluttering closed, your hands find his chest, silently screaming about the position you’ve found yourself in.

His lips overpower yours in every regard, moving languidly against you. His other hand reaches up to the free side of your face, fingers tickling the skin on your neck and thumb resting on your jaw. 

When he pulls away you can only look at him with half lidded eyes, dazed. 

Al he does is chuckle, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and patting your head. One hand holds the back of your head, leaning down to kiss your temple, before stepping behind you, “Don’t be so shy from now on. Maybe we’ll end up here again.”

His steps echo through the empty hall as he walks away.

“Wait… wait.. I thought you had to go see Angeal?” You turn, taking one step in his direction, then stopping yourself in your tracks hesitantly. 

“I didn’t. And I know you didn’t either.” He only turns his cheek towards you to speak and then continues on down the hallway, tall and brooding.

[gay-dorito-dust]

(Idk if ur rq are open bc I can't find any indication of it being, but I hope it is and if it isn't km sorry and h can just ignore this until they are!!)

Maybeee bat boys x reader who zones out a lot and tends to make faces according to what she's thinking abt. Like a smile or frown. And sometimes when they ask her what's up she's all secretive and what not.

Thank you!!

I dunno if I did this right but here ya go!

Dick makes a game out of it and tries to guess what you were thinking about.

Even if you don’t tell him why you’re smiling or making a face of thought, he is surprisingly good at being able to figure it out regardless, but for every expression he gets wrong you’d have to give him double the kisses for the ones he gets right to make up for it.

He loves watching your face contort like a ventriloquist through a rapid fire of emotions depending on what your mind has decided to remind you of, and today it was the memory of Hayley in her Halloween costume of Nightwing, just to match with Dick in his Nightwing suit as he prepared to enter the bloodhaven annual Nightwing contest.

Basically a contest where people deduce if anyone had a similar ass shape to Nightwing himself, a contest you find ridiculous but the imagine of Hayley in her Halloween costume was the sweetest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on, that you couldn’t help but smile widely at.

You had albums full of Hayley in her Halloween costume with Dick photobombing in the background.

‘What’s on that pretty little mind of yours sweetheart?’ Dick would often ask.

‘Something silly.’ You’d reply with on the odd occasion as to keep him guessing, finding his attempts fun and only giving him pity kisses when he got a majority of them wrong. He had only got a handful right before but on all the other occasions he’s fails spectacularly.

‘Something silly like the time I lost the nightwing contest to Jason that one time?’ He answers wrongly but you couldn’t help but give him a pity kiss for being somewhat right but wrong simultaneously.

‘Sure darling.’ You’d say as you went back to zoning out on Hayley in her Halloween costume while dick burrows his face into your neck, murmuring about how of all people did Jason won the contest when they look nothing alike before going on about how Jason was a brick shit house in comparison to his muscular yet flexible body.

You’ll have to give him more pity kisses to ease his bruised ego by saying he wins all the Nightwing contests in your eyes. When in reality Hayley wins them all just for the fact of being adorable.

Damian found it weird at first for your face to be expressive, believing that it would make you an easy target for others to take advantage of.

Now however he finds it to be a way of expressing how you actually felt in comparison to the words that escape your mouth. He often discouraged zoning out as it would lead to unfavourable outcomes, but when you zone out and your face becomes soft Damian couldn’t help but find himself looking at you with a soft expression of his own.

‘What are you think about my beloved?’ He’d ask you as he hugs you from behind, resting his head upon your shoulder.

‘Nothing that you would find investing my love.’ You replied softly as the fond smile on your face grew the more you thought about the one time Damian chased Titus throughout the mansion because the Great Dane has somehow stole his robin suit and wouldn’t let go.

Damian kisses your shoulder. ‘Are you sure it’s not something I should be concerned about?’ He’d then ask.

You smile softly. ‘Not at all dami, just a funny thought is all.’ You told him while moving your head to kiss his forehead as though to calm his own thoughts. He hums, not believing you for a second from the mischievous glint in your eyes but was more than willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, just because he adored you so much.

‘As you wish my treasure.’ Your thoughts were your thoughts and Damian wouldn’t pry into them unless you wanted him to, so he just watched your expression carefully and deduced what you were feeling and link it to whatever memory would gain an happy, fond expression and leave it at that.

Jason loves your expressive face, he really does and will playfully pester you about what you were asking a face at while softly pinching your sides as you giggled.

Jason loved watching you as you zone out, perhaps reminiscing about a recent memory or other, and watching your face show how you felt about that particular moment.

‘Whatcha thinking about chipmunk?’ He’d ask from his place on the kitchen counter that he chose to admire you from. ‘Was it about little old me?’ He’d then ask cheekily as you playfully groan, shoving a hand to his face and pushing him away.

‘As if.’ You’d reply before walking away but Jason will continue to pester you about what you were thinking for the rest of the day. He’s just a little shit that you’ve come to love more then anything. Your thoughts were more than not occupied by how comfortable he had gotten with you over the course of your relationship and how happy you were for him.

Though you’d never say such a thing in front of him as he’ll use it against you however he could while giving you the softest, most beloved look upon his gorgeous face. Jason was your weakness and the only thing that you always thought about whether it be his autopsy scars, his white ruff of hair that you found immensely adorable and his plush lips that you want to kiss constantly.

Jason is more then content in just watching your face, but don’t be surprised that he kisses your furrowed brow when he sees your face become troubled, he wants his sweetheart to be happy not troubled because that’s what you deserve. You don’t need words to describe how happy you were for Jason to be able to read the emotion crossing your face, and Jason was more than happy to be of reassurance for when you needed it.

Bruce is amused whenever you made a face at something, or nothing in particular.

Like Damian he views it as a way of expressing your inner most feelings towards something or someone without having to vocalise it. It intrigues him as it’s not often that he comes across someone who wears their emotions across their face like you, after all Gotham if filled with some of the most guarded people to ever exist, him included.

It’s fascinating but even he got a little curious when you were smiling a little too widely one day, silently chuckling to yourself as you tried to get ready for bed.

‘What is making you laugh my dear.’ Bruce would ask as he sets aside his novel, moving to his side to look at you while the hand at your waist drew soothing patterns into your skin.

‘Nothing.’ You said as you chuckled.

‘Are you sure it’s nothing? Seems like you might be reminiscing of the time at the iceberg lounge where I mistakenly striped down to my boxers and tabletop danced.’ Bruce replied and all you could do is look at him with a somewhat shocked expression, you knew he was good but you kept forgetting just how good he was at deducting it always caught you off guard.

‘How-‘ you began.

‘Detective remember.’ Bruce chuckled slightly as he kissed your forehead.

‘But that was too specific of a memory for you to guess correctly.’ You rebutted, wanting to know how he knew about that particular memory.

‘It’s not too difficult for me to differentiate between the facial expressions you have towards each and every time you zone out my dear, so while it maybe impossible to believe but to me it’s as easy as breathing.’ Bruce replied as he brought you into his chest. He really did take the time out of his day to memories and learn the smallest of differences between your facial expressions, so much to the point where could tell whether the thing you were zoning out on was a good memory or not.

‘I’m not sure whether to be flattered or not.’ You murmured to yourself as you rested again his strong chest, tracing the many, many scars it possessed with featherlight touches and affection in the form of small kisses pepper against them.

Bruce only tightens his hold on you and kisses the top of your head as he hums. ‘Flattered preferably as the expression you make is sweet and warm.’ He tells you with his voice heavy with sleep.

‘Flattery it is.’ You said sluggishly as you cuddled yourself into his chest, clinging onto him for dear life as he kept you close, presenting the door his back out of his need to keep you safe and secure.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LNDS Spicy Headcanons | 18+

Well I did generalized headcanons for the boys, now we need to get into the spice headcanons. Which honestly is one of my favorite things to write. I regret nothing when it comes to Rafayel's part.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: 18+ Headcanons, Cockwarming, Consensual Somnophilia, Sexting, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Bathtub Sex, Mentions of Oral (M!Receiving), Non-Human Anatomy

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

One of the kinkiest men you will ever meet. Is willing to try everything at least once if given the option. The worst part is he doesn't seem like the type at all until you're in the bedroom with him and you realize you might be in danger.

He is normally on top, but doesn't mind being a switch, especially when he's tired. If you want to take charge and pamper him, then by all means. As long as you don't tease him too much he'll let you do just about anything. If you tease him though...well you won't be on top for very long. The moment he loses control you'll be bent like a pretzel.

Xavier has more length than girth, and god damn is he able to use that to his advantage. If anything his dick is actually kind of pretty, with a few prominent veins on it and a soft pink tip. Now how he uses it...he will learn your body so well that he can perfectly angle himself inside of you and make you see stars. There is no saving you at that point.

Xavier can't say he has a favorite position when he's taking you. As long as he can be inside you in some way, shape, or form, he's content. If he had to choose though, he likes being in a spooning position with his cock buried into your heat, his hand on your hip and face in the crook of your neck while he whispers the filthiest things in your ear.

Despite having a larger sex drive than most would think, he doesn't masturbate as often. Anytime he's in the mood he might start, but if he doesn't have you with him it's not as exciting and he often times finds himself wanting to doze off. Only time he'll finish himself off in his own hand is if you're with him, or on call with him and he can hear you moaning as you touch yourself to the sound of his voice.

Xavier can and will send you spicy text messages while you're at work. He's a lot more careful with sending photos though since he'd hate it if you opened an image of him in public and had someone else see on accident. Not because he's ashamed of his body, but because he hates the thought of embarrassing you while you're working. He will, however, happily accept a spicy photo of you at any point in time. He even has a privacy screen on his phone so nobody can accidentally see it.

While Xavier is pretty kinky, he does have a few he is partial to. He likes cockwarming, especially after you two finish. If he had the choice he'd fall asleep with his length still deep inside of you. Another one would be somnophilia, as long as both parties consent to it of course. Xavier feels bad he's always sleeping, so if you ever wanted to use his body he'd be more than happy to let you. Not to mention it would make an amazing wake up call.

Zayne

Out of all three love interests, Zayne is the most tame when it comes to kinks. While he is happy enough to indulge you with whatever you want to try out, he is very much content with plain vanilla if that's what you request. Honestly whatever works out for the both of you is what he likes.

Now despite him being fine with vanilla sex, if you suggest trying something a bit more out there, he's probably all for it. Especially if you ask him to dominate you. He's already the top when it comes to sex, even if you're riding him he's holding your hips and controlling the tempo. If you ask for more Dom/Sub dynamics, he'll research it heavily before trying anything.

Zayne's dick is an absolute monster. Not only is it girthy, there's also quite a bit of length there as well and the veins lining the length only add to the sensations. It's the kind of dick that you have to whisper "Never back down, never give up". You won't be walking straight for days. It's the kind of cock that might put you in a wheelchair. It's a damn good thing he's a medical professional because his dick might actually destroy you, and yet you'll still be begging for more. Half the time he doesn't even put it in all the way so that you'll have a chance at being able to go to work the next day. And good luck sucking him off, not even a master could fit his entire dick down their throat.

Zayne's favorite position would have to be you riding him. He'll sit down on a couch with you on his lap, your chest right in front of him so he can nip and suck at it. His hands having an almost bruising grip on your hips as he guide you up and down on his length. Your small whimpers as he tells you how good you are for him. To Zayne, literally nothing can beat the view of you bouncing in his lap.

Zayne hates having to take matters into his own hands, literally, but sometimes if he doesn't have you with him he needs to do something. Memories of your nights together will be going through his head until he's painfully hard and can't sleep or work. He's not vocal when he masturbates unless he's on call with you, and even then it's small grunts here and there.

Zayne will avoid sending you pictures that are explicit. He might send more teasing photos to you every now and then, but nothing too bad. He's also careful about sending steamy messages. Normally if he does, it's to inform you of what's to come later in the day and it doesn't go too far. When you two are away from one another for long periods of time, he will video call you for some play time. Sometimes he'll even edge you, telling you not to cum until he gets home (which is torture for those business trips that last literal weeks).

Rafayel

As long as you're willing, Rafayel is more than happy to explore certain kinks with you. Of course only after you both look into it together. He loves teasing you about them while you two look into it, his body draped over your own while his hands explore your exposed skin, asking if you wanted to try the kink you're reading about right now.

He's a switch without a doubt. When he's bottoming he's nothing but a brat trying to be a power bottom and take control of the situation. When he's on top he is a huge tease, coaxing you into begging him for his touch. Either way, sex with Rafayel is always fun. Normally it's a small battle of dominance to decide who tops and bottoms.

Rafayel has more length than girth, and can definitely be called above average in that department. He isn't huge though, but just the right size to make you feel completely full. He also knows how to use it, making you whimper out his name as he slowly drags his length against your warm walls. His dick is pretty smooth as well, the veins not being very prominent. It is extremely sensitive to your touch though, and it's so easy to get him riled up just by running your hand over his pants.

To nobody's surprise, Rafayel likes to take you in the water. Whether it be in the pool, his tub, or the ocean. He has to admit you look amazing while the two of you are in the tub, your hands gripping the edges as you slowly ride him. His hands playing with all your exposed parts, teasing you and slowly bucking his hips into your own. Watching you cum and collapse onto his chest, panting his name as he continued fucking into you while you cling to him until he finishes, sometimes dragging another orgasm out of you.

Rafayel can and will masturbate to the thought of you whenever he has so much of a dirty thought. He's so down bad for you that he can't help himself. Just remembering how your skin feels against him, or how you whimper his name is enough to get him hard. He's not afraid to admit he's had to escape to the bathroom at one of his exhibits before just to get it out of his system. He can and will inform you about how it's all your fault and how you need to take responsibility.

Speaking of how you'll be informed if he masturbates, he will send you photos when it happens. His hand wrapped around his cock while in a closet during an event. Sometimes you'll see the cum dripping from the tip as he tells you n detail what you do to him. If he's at the studio, he'll call you up moaning your name, asking when you can come over. Of course this doesn't happen daily, but it is smart to make sure to have a privacy screen for your phone as well as headphones when you answer one of Rafayel's video calls if you're in public.

Lemurian Form

Rafayel is significantly more sensitive to touch in his Lemurian form. Feeling your hands tracing over his delicate scales will send shivers right down his spine.

He has two...and they're not small either. He has a slit in his tail that's softer than the rest and if you play with it enough, his cocks will come out. They're stacked, one on top of the other. The bottom one is about the side of his normal dick, but the top is significantly bigger.

They're tapered as well, coming to a soft point at the tips. The base of his cock has soft scales that are extremely sensitive (touching them the first time made him cum instantly). The rest of his length is a soft blue color that gradients to a more flesh tone at the top.

His cum is bioluminescent.

[hitomisuzuya]

hellooo, how are you? <3

this is my first ever request, so i'm a bit hesitant with how to word it 😶

i've been thinking about reverse isekai wanderer x reader, where reader has to like, teach him how our modern world works and how to blend in!

i did think about how to make it nsfw, but i have absolutely no idea how it would lead to it 😭

maybe like, he learns how to film videos and takes advantage of it, idk 😶

anyways, no rush and absolutely no pressure to write it!

love your fics, have a nice day 🫶🏻

Wanderer (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Reverse Isekai. Smut. Consensual recording. Worship. Biting/marking. Creampie. General head canons in beginning.

Hello, dear❤️ Your wording was just fine.

Being transported into your world was something of a shock to Wanderer, and he was very good at hiding it. But, he supposed being dropped in on someone who is already hopelessly in love with him, worshipping him entirely in every way made the transition easier.

You soon became one big distraction for him.

Wanderer enjoys a lot of things in the reality. Coffee makers, video games, cell phones, YOU, to name a few. And trashy, reality TV shows. The trashier the better, he ate that shit up. When he discovered what a DVR was, most of your storage went to recording reality TV shows.

It'd been easy for him to find an image to fit in. A lot of dark clothing.

However, cellphones, web cams, and in particular the recording feature was what he enjoyed quite frankly abusing. And this time, Wanderer was getting two angles.

One angle your laptop was recording every thing on it's web cam. Another angle Wanderer was recording on his cellphone.

You were on your back on your bed, naked, your legs spread as you looked up at him. One of his hands was holding his cell phone, the other was wrapped around his cock. His cell phone was recording the perfect view for him, his cock rubbing your pussy into a wet mess.

What made this twice as erotic for Wanderer is that two of your fingers were holding your rapidly drooling folds apart to give him a better view. The head of his leaking cock rubbing against your throbbing clit, his phone recording your soft moans loud and clear as you grinded up against his cock.

"You know, when I first saw you, I never would've guessed you were such a slut," He loves how his degradation made you moan louder, a new coat of wet soaking onto his cock.

"Oh, but see, here is the thing, Scara," You said shakily, reaching up with trembling fingers to caress his cheek. Wanderer angled the phone up. He was able to see the fast forming bruises and bite marks all over your body. You were utterly and possessively bit up.

As much as he would've loved to have recorded marking you on his phone, he needed both hands to hold you down while you squirmed and writhed, rubbing your pussy needily on his hard cock. Your webcam recorded everything perfectly though.

"I am one, for you," You continued. Your arm was above your head in a submissive manner, slowly grinding your clit on his cock.

Wanderer groaned, pushing the tip of his cock at your entrance. Your cunt immediately tightened around it. He always craved this type of worship. He turned his cheek into your hand, his cock pulsing and aching to be buried inside of you.

You skimmed your thumb across his cheek. "Promise me something?" You asked, rolling your hips up to push his cock inside of you more.

"Y-Yeah?" Wanderer moaned shakily. He would promise you whatever you want if it meant he got to record you falling apart for him.

You looked up at him, your image with all your possessive bruises on display, and said, "Cum inside of me." Your eyes were filled with desperation, and deeply welled adoration. It only made his cock harder.

"Fuck, I wouldn't have it any other way," Wanderer moaned, his finger swiftly hitting the stop button and tossing his phone aside. His beautiful fingers found tight purchase on your thighs, holding them apart.

He masked soft whimpers behind his moans as he pushed his cock inside of you, bottoming out with a harsh, needy snap of his hips. You cried out in pleasure as the head of his cock nudged into your sweet spot.

Wanderer couldn't wait to have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock while he watched this with you, sucking him off while he degraded you about what a slut you looked and sounded like.

Your breasts bounced from the harshness of Wanderer's thrusts, your hands fisting your sheets tightly as pleasure burst white hot behind your eyes. Your legs shook in his grasp, a shiver sending a extra jolt of pleasure through you as he caresses the insides of your thighs with his thumbs.

Wanderer mocked your moans to hide his whimpers, your cunt tight and warm on his cock, sucking him in with each thrust. "Good fucking girl, cry for me, worship me," He laughed shakily, amused by how fucked out you looked, moaning and twitching as he impaled you dumb on his cock. Drool pooling from one corner of your mouth, your eyes getting glassier the closer you got to cumming.

He got off on knowing your poor little brain was so far gone, you couldn't grasp how to form coherent words. He let go of one of your thighs to give your clit a light smack, ushering in your orgasm.

He groaned as you creamed on his cock, giving him ample lubrication to to fuck his cock deeper into you. You were limp and pliable in his grasp, your body shuddering in pleasure as his cock pulsed cum inside of you.

It was so satisfying for Wanderer knowing your webcam recorded the perfect view of his cum leaking from your cunt.

[ro-is-struggling]

Secret Encounters || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: They know it's wrong, but they can't deny the desire and lust that overcomes them every time they are together.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with a little bit of plot (not really), fingering, penetrative sex, mirror sex, rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, breeding kink, dirty talk, mentions of cheating (reader is engaged), fem reader (she’s a princess)

English is not my first language

Word count: 3900

Notes: I promise I'll stop writing tragic princess x witcher stories after this one. Also, sorry for the shitty summary but it's only smut so it was kinda hard to come up with something lol

Geralt had never been fond of royalty, but the moment his eyes fell on hers he knew she was different. He didn't really understand why, but he felt some type of way whenever she was near. Her perfume was intoxicating, a sweet scent that lingered on his clothes and skin and accompanied him wherever he went. He could not escape her even when he wandered alone through the forest in search of the beast he had been hired to kill... not even when he was lying in his bed at night, surrounded by the darkness of the room as he tried to rest. Her scent enveloped him at all times, awakening something deep inside him. It drove him crazy, crazy enough to act on his desires. 

He knew it was wrong, it was inappropriate to take advantage of the king's hospitality like that. And she knew it was wrong too, she was a princess soon to be married, a woman of high value who had no business with a witcher like Geralt. And yet, neither seemed to be able to stay away from the other. It was as if there was some kind of energy force pulling them together, the very will of destiny imposing itself over their own. When Geralt showed up at her chambers she knew she should have turned him away. No matter how much she had been longing for him to take her in his arms and make her his, the right thing to do was to reject him and move on with her life. In fact, she had opened the door with the intention of doing exactly that, but when her eyes met the imposing figure of the witcher, towering over her as his amber eyes admired her face, she could not resist the temptation. She gave in to her desires, crashing her lips against his in a desperate kiss as she slowly pulled him into her room.

The feel of his touch lingered on her body for days, her skin permanently marked by the roughness of his caresses and the warm wetness of his mouth. The sound of his grunts of pleasure as he buried himself in her echoed in her mind at all times. He was all she could think about. She knew it was wrong, but she needed to feel his hands on her body again, exploring every inch of her skin as he showed her pleasure like no other man could.

Despite their desperation, they were able to keep their hands off each other for a while. Though all their self-control disappeared by the time of Geralt's last day in the castle. After slaying the beast —and collecting his reward— the witcher was ready to leave when the king made him an offer he couldn't resist. There would be a feast in celebration of the fall of the creature that had terrorized the town and Geralt, as their savior, was the guest of honor. He would normally have declined the offer, although the promise of free food and alcohol sounded enticing, he hated the idea of being stuck with a bunch of drunken noblemen. However, this time it gave him the perfect excuse to stay there a while longer and say goodbye to the princess the right way —the way he knew they had both been fantasizing about since their last encounter.

The party quickly turned into a game of cat and mouse, defiant yellow eyes meeting hers in the crowd, admiring her lips as she laughed and the way her body moved as she danced. She was doing it on purpose, accepting the proposals of all the knights who bowed in front of her to provoke him. She wanted to spark a reaction in him, see how far she could push him, how far she could push the boundaries of their secret relationship. The thought of being caught filled her body with adrenaline, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that he could almost hear it over the noise of the party.

She waited for the right moment and took advantage of the first distraction to escape to her bedroom. Her eyes met Geralt's before disappearing behind the side door of the great hall, her desire-laden expression a silent plea for him to follow her. She sat in front of the large mirror in her room waiting for him, removing the jewelry from her hair and combing her hair without any haste. And just as she expected, only a few minutes after her arrival, she felt the sound of the door's wood creaking as it opened. She saw Geralt lock the door behind him in the reflection of the mirror and she had to hold back the smile that wanted to form on her lips —a failed attempt to save some of her decency and not look so desperate.

"You're not supposed to be here." She said as if his presence didn't make her heart race. "It's wrong."

"That's not what you said the other night." Geralt's deep voice was music to her ears, his slightly mocking tone awakening that tingle under her skin. He walked up to her, holding her gaze in the mirror as if challenging her. He stood tall at her back, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, but not close enough to feel the brush of his hands on her skin. 

"The other night was a mistake." She affirmed, setting the comb aside. It was true, their furtive encounter, though pleasurable, had been a mistake. But they both knew well that neither really cared. The desire they felt, the tension in the air, it was all too much, it clouded their thinking leaving them at the mercy of their most primitive feelings. 

Geralt reached out his hands to her, brushing her hair aside so he could caress her skin. He noticed how she stifled a sigh through the reflection of the mirror, his warm touch awakening that flame within her. His fingers moved gently across her shoulders, up her neck until they reached her cheeks. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, losing herself in the moment. It felt just as she remembered it, warm and hard, yet strangely soft and comforting at the same time. It was as if his hands had never left her skin, as if his caresses were permanently carved into her body.

"Do you wish for me to leave?" he said, his voice barely a raspy whisper. He knew the answer to her question, he could read it on her face, smell it in the air, feel it in the vein in her neck that throbbed rapidly beneath his fingers. But still, he needed to be sure he was right, hear from her lips the plea for his caresses. He needed to know that she was as desperate as he was.

She didn't give him a verbal response, just rose from her seat and pressed her lips to his. Geralt's hands closed around her waist, pulling her body against his as he quickly took control of the kiss. She didn't bother fighting for dominance, acknowledging her subordination to him almost immediately. She didn't need to win, she just needed to feel his hands on her skin again, gripping and caressing every inch of her body in a rush of pleasure until the early morning sun forced them apart.

There was nothing tender and soft about the way Geralt's lips attacked hers, only lust and desperation, but she loved every part of it. She loved the way his tongue invaded her mouth and how his teeth nibbled at her lips before moving his wet kisses down her neck, sucking and biting at the skin without fear of leaving marks. He knew he could do whatever he wanted with her as she was completely at his mercy, surrendered to the pleasure only he could give her. She didn't care if she had to spend the next week finding creative ways to hide the evidence of their furtive encounter, she just needed to feel him. She wanted him to mark her, to declare ownership over her body. She knew she belonged to him, always would, even if she never saw him again after tonight.

Clothes soon became a problem, a barrier that kept them apart, so desperate hands worked carelessly to fix it. Her dress was the first to go, the expensive fabric pooling around her feet leaving her naked body completely exposed to Geralt's hungry gaze. She should have been embarrassed, but nothing but lust and anticipation pumped through her veins. He was looking at her as if she were the most beautiful and sensual woman he had ever seen, as if she were a goddess he had the privilege of pleasing. Never before had anyone looked at her in that way, so intense, so filled with adoration. She loved it, it made her feel special, powerful. 

Geralt didn't waste a second, calloused fingers caressing every inch of exposed skin. It awakened a fire inside her, a tingling that spread throughout her body, concentrating on her core. His teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin of her neck, sinking his canines into her as his hands moved down to her breasts, earning a couple of sighs from the princess as he showed attention to her nipples erect with anticipation. He smiled against her neck, proud of himself as the scent of her arousal lingered in the air. It was an intoxicating scent, the sweet forbidden fruit begging him to take it.

When his fingers slipped between her wet folds, she let out a moan of pleasure as her grip on the witcher's shoulders tightened. It was as beautiful as he remembered, a harmonious melody traveling through him and going straight to his cock. It was the sound of temptation, of lust, urging him to carry on, to forget all rules of morality and decorum and take what was his.

“P-please, Geralt.” She pleaded against his lips. Her breathing was rapid and she looked up at him through half-closed eyelids. He slipped two of his fingers inside her with ease, pushing them as deep as he could and moving them until he made her moan. She looked so beautiful like this, her eyes closed in pleasure and her parted lips releasing those beautiful desperate sighs, completely at his mercy.It was an image that would stay in Geralt's mind for quite some time. 

"I know, I know," he soothed her, his free hand coming up to caress her cheek. "I have to get you ready for me."

"I-I need to feel you, p-please." She whimpered in a pathetic, desperate attempt to get him to do what she wanted. She needed to feel all of him, his hot skin pressed against hers, his fingernails sinking into the skin of her hips as he buried his cock deep inside her, his ragged breaths in the hollow of her neck. She needed him as much as she needed the air she breathed and could wait no longer.

Thankfully he took pity on her, removing his hands from her body to unbutton his pants. She suppressed the whimper that wanted to escape her throat as she felt empty without his fingers inside her, knowing the sensation would not last for long. Geralt instructed her to turn over and her body obeyed him before she could process his words or wonder what he was up to. Her body no longer belonged to her, it belonged to him and always would.

He held her against his chest for a moment, one hand roaming her body while the other held her head steady facing forward. She could feel his hard member pressed against her lower back as his heat enveloped her completely. Their gazes met in the mirror once more and she saw the darkness of desire staining the beautiful yellow orbs. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent before lowering his lips to her ear.

"I want you to look at yourself in the mirror as I fuck you, princess." Geralt whispered in her ear, his voice firm and slightly deeper than normal. His eyes never left hers in the mirror, studying her reaction in the reflection. "I want you to see how beautiful you look with your face scrunched up in pleasure so you'll remember it after I'm gone and your future husband can't make you feel this good."

He gave her no warning before pushing his hard cock into her tight wet hole, and he wasn't gentle either. A quick thrust of his hips and he was balls deep inside her as her velvety walls struggled to take him. Geralt was big, it was almost hard for him to fully fit inside her despite how aroused she was. But it wasn't painful, not in a bad way at least. She loved the way his cock stretched her, almost impaling her on it when it was all the way in. The burning only added to her pleasure, the knot in her belly tightening with the promise of her orgasm.

Geralt set a fast, torturous pace, earning a string of incoherent moans each time he touched that special place deep inside her. She could feel him twitching inside her as her walls closed around him, desperate to hold him in place. It was almost too much and not enough at the same time, a mixture of feelings born of her need for relief. The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with her cries of pleasure and Geralt's grunts filled the room. It was loud and she wouldn't be surprised if she discovered that someone passing through the corridor could hear them, but she didn't care. She felt too good to worry about anything else.

The pleasure she felt was so intense that she had trouble keeping her eyes open, her heavy eyelids closing involuntarily against the force of Geralt's thrusts. But each time she did, he tightened his grip on her jaw, growling in her ear for her to open them. The image reflected in the mirrored surface was too much for her to take. Her small figure wrapped in the strong arms of her lover towering over her and making her feel even smaller and more insignificant. The bulge forming in her lower belly with each thrust showed just how deep inside her Geralt was. His teeth on her neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin without taking his intense gaze away from her eyes in the mirror. And finally, her face, with parted lips letting out a string of melodious moans, and glassy eyes filled with tears that threatened to escape at the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. The expression of pure pleasure on her face was one she had never seen on her before  —and she feared that after tonight she would never see it again.

It was all too much for her, and the possessive way Geralt was acting didn't help her in the slightest. He was determined to leave a mark on her, both physically and mentally. He wanted her to see traces of him on her own skin after he was gone, but he also wanted to make sure she remembered him. Make sure she remembered the intensity of the moment and the way he had made her feel. He wanted her to think of him every time her future husband left her unsatisfied, touching herself to relieve the pressure inside her as images of him in this very moment flashed through her mind. 

He made sure to let her know his intentions between grunts of pleasure, feeling her walls close around his member with every word that left his lips. She liked it as much as he did and that only egged him on.

"Geralt, please," she begged, not quite sure of what it was she was asking of him. Please stop because the pleasure traveling through my veins is too much to bear? Please keep going and don't stop until I'm passed out from exhaustion and you've ruined me for the rest of the men? She wasn't sure, both options were equally valid.

"I know... just let go," he encouraged her, his warm breath crashing against the skin of her ear as he spoke. "Just let go for me, princess."

Her body took his words as a command and it wasn't long before the knot in her belly snapped, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her insides. Her orgasm hit her like a pile of bricks, leaving her completely stupid. Geralt's name escaped her lips like a prayer as she lost herself in pleasure. All thought left her mind, she could only feel as her lover's thrusts slowed, her body trembling in his arms from overstimulation.

She only had a couple of seconds to recover, whining as she felt empty when Geralt pulled away from her momentarily. Her legs were weak and she struggled to stand, so he took her in his arms and laid her down on the bed carefully. He settled into the space between her legs, taking a moment to admire her and caress her body before continuing. His hands ran over her warm, sweat-covered skin in an almost gentle way, an act that contrasted with the roughness of his behavior so far but was nonetheless welcomed by her.

The tenderness didn't last long, though, because once he slid his cock inside her once more, he returned to the animalistic grunts and punishing rhythm of his thrusts. This time it was more desperate and erratic, letting her know that he was close to his own orgasm. His cock twitched inside her, threatening to paint her velvety walls with his seed. The very idea was enough to have her on the edge again. 

"You feel me, princess?" He said, taking one of her hands and bringing it down to her lower belly. He pressed it against her skin, trapping it between his palm and the bulge forming there from his cock. It added a new sensation and she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her throat. "Feel how deep inside of you I am?

"Fuck," she cursed, eyes rolling back as her free hand clutched at Geralt's wrist to make sure he didn't move it off her belly. The pressure felt too good, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her with a force that left her breathless.

"I'm the only one who gets is deep, f-fuck, the only one who makes you feel this way." He wasn't asking, it was a clear statement, but still she nodded, letting out repeated affirmations between high-pitched moans.

"I belong to you... My body is forever yours, no one will ever make me feel this good." The animalistic growl he let out at those words almost pushed her over the edge, leaving her on the verge of her second orgasm. She knew he was close too, she could feel it in his erratic thrusts and the way his cock twitched inside her. She needed to feel him come undone for her, to paint her walls white as he emptied his seed inside her. She needed him to mark her, to claim her as his own. They both knew a relationship between them was impossible, but she would always be his in secret. Her body would always miss him.

"Please, I need to feel you." She managed to say between moans and ragged breaths. "I need you to fill me up, please." She sounded pathetic at this point, but she didn't care. All she cared about was feeling Geralt's seed trickling down her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. 

The witcher groaned, a cocky smile playing on his lips. One of his hands flew to the headboard of the bed, the wood creaking under his strong grip as he adjusted his position. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper —if that was even possible—, impaling her on his cock as she cried out in pleasure. Her nails dug into his back, leaving traces of red marks on his skin.

"You're desperate for it, aren't you?" he teased her arrogantly. "Don't worry, princess, I'm gonna shoot my seed so deep inside of you that you'll carry it for days. Is that what you want? You want me to mark you as mine? You want to feel me between your legs while you swear loyalty to your husband?"

"Yes! Fuck, Geralt, please... mark me, claim me as yours, please." 

The witcher did not expect to find it so erotic to hear her admit her deepest desires, but he did. It awakened something inside him, a primal desire that took over his body. He became an animal, a fierce, possessive wolf that was desperate for some relief. After all, that was exactly what their relationship was, pure animal instinct, pure lust and desperation. An intense attraction they couldn't resist even when they knew how wrong it was.

He came with a loud grunt, emptying his load inside her warm, tight walls. She felt every drop of it, her cunt filled to the brim with his desire for her. The intensity of his orgasm triggered hers, her body trembling under Geralt's weight, her walls tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he had. His name fell from her lips as pleasure consumed her, a prayer begging him to stay with her. He knew it was impossible, but in that moment - mind clouded with pleasure as he felt her crumbling beneath him - he really considered it. He wanted to feel her body against his again, hear the sound of her voice as she moaned his name outside of his memories. He needed her.

But that was just a fantasy, the desire for the impossible. She was a princess who was soon to be married and he was a witcher who had nothing to do with the court and royal affairs. She was not his —even if her body was— and he was not hers. And that was the hard truth. So when he came to his senses he rose from his place on the bed, where he rested with her beside him. The princess watched him as he dressed, trying to ignore the strange feeling of emptiness that came over her at the thought that once he crossed the threshold of the door she would never see him again.

"Will I ever see you again?" She asked in a whisper, as if afraid of being heard. Geralt admired her naked figure on the bed as he contemplated his answer, liking the way the dim candlelight illuminated her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. As wrong as it was, he would really like to see her again, but the truth was he didn't know if it would happen. The future was uncertain, especially in his line of work, so to give her a straight answer would be to lie to her.

"Only time will tell."

[ckret2]

One of my favourite things about the book of Bill has to be how hard it has cemented that, for all the airs Bill likes to put on, he's actually awful at manipulating people. Like if you look at the just the show, on the surface his record isn't bad. 2 1/2 successful manipulations out of 3 shown on-screen is solid. ((That is until you examine it further and realize that the 2 successful ones were done to 12 year old children who 1. Weren't exactly in the best states of mind at the time due to severe sleep deprivation/a difficult emotional state and 2. he still had to trick via his power (the fake timer on the laptop/possessing blendin so Mabel didn't know it was him)) But now? Oh man! Ford wasn't just lucky, he joined a tradition dating back all the way to humanities beginnings! Bill has been trying to get people to do his bidding literally since people had gotten good enough at resource-gathering and tool-usage to be able to potentially build his portal! And he failed over and over and over again and he never learned shit! That would be bad enough but not only did he fail at manipulating several civilzations worth of people, they ALSO constantly thwarted him in ways beyond that! He got himself banished, trapped, and annoyed to hell and back and thats just the stuff he told us! Thats not even speaking of his latest and possibly greatest fumble, failing the convince us, the reader of the Book of Bill who is canonically a fan of Bill or at least Gravity Falls into striking a deal with him. In short, if I asked Bill to manipulate a child into eating ice cream with just his words I wouldn't trust him to get it done within my or the kids life time.

Except, Bill IS good at manipulating people. You JUST DESCRIBED several examples of him being good at manipulating people.

Identifying the most vulnerable targets, the "weakest link" most likely to cave and do what you want—like children (or elderly people with dementia, or immigrants who don't understand the language well)—is part of being good at manipulation.

Identifying and taking advantage of people in a compromised mental state when they're not thinking clearly and are more likely to do what you want is part of being good at manipulation. (He didn't try to persuade Mabel to destroy the laptop, BECAUSE HE KNEW DIPPER WAS MORE VULNERABLE. He didn't approach Dipper or Ford dressed as Blendin—BECAUSE HE KNEW MABEL WAS MORE VULNERABLE.)

Just straight up lying to people—about a situation (the timer), about a person (Blendin)—is a manipulation tactic.

Fabricating a totally artificial emergency and pressuring a target to ACT NOW to prevent disaster is a common con artist trick. (See: scammers who cold call strangers, say they're from the IRS and the stranger is behind on taxes, and demand they transfer a large amount of money from their bank RIGHT NOW or go to jail—WHICH ACTUALLY WORKS A LOT, especially because people CAN'T THINK AS CLEARLY when they're panicking.)

Disguising yourself as somebody trustworthy or somebody intimidating to trick a target into obeying you is also a common con artist trick.

Not to mention ALL the work we see into how he manipulates Ford: he makes note of Ford's social isolation and how Bill can use that to his advantage; he identifies the thing Ford wants most (respect & acknowledgment for his intellectual achievements) and weaves that into his manipulation; he uses both Ford's ego AND Ford's insecurity against him; he almost effortlessly turns Ford against the one friend who adores him, making Ford think his friend's kindest attempts to help are evidence of backstabbing; and even though ultimately it didn't work, you can't say that threatening to destroy Ford's life from inside his own body was a BAD manipulation tactic.

Plus the entire muse schtick. Fooling people into thinking you're doing something magical or supernatural is such a common manipulation tactic that there's a whole name for it: "mystical manipulation." Bill does this NON STOP with Ford, and with many of his other victims.

We see him successfully talk an entire tribe into helping him build a working redwood portal—and they only turned against him when the portal started petrifying people, unleashing monsters, and creating bottomless pits. He talked the Aztecs into sacrificing 9,000 people to build a portal that didn't even work. He talked not-Disney into making a cartoon about Bill that included UNLEASHING LIVE BEES IN THE THEATER. Who the hell would think that's a good idea!

And to top it all off, he formed multiple successful cults that were ride or die for him until the bitter end. That's like the crown jewel of being good at manipulating. Bill talked a whole town into joining his cult in under a month in spite of the fact that he kept calling them plasma bags and chugging formaldehyde. Based on the dates in the document about Silas Birchtree, people were marrying into Ciphertology at least five years after Bill's puppet disintegrated and he ditched them.

Bill was good at manipulating people!

Do you know what Bill WASN'T good at? Getting people to finish and open a portal.

Largely because portals are difficult to make, and because he can only get so far into the process before it becomes obvious that this thing will destroy the world and that's usually enough to override any other threats or promises he makes.

Yeah, he says some stupid things that should obviously give him away—like talking about setting off all the nukes. He's kinda pathetic and a bit of a dumbass sometimes. But, here's the thing about successful manipulators, con artists, and cult leaders: MOST of them are kinda pathetic dumbasses. Cult leaders are idiots. There's a cult leader who preached his followers should be on minimal vegetarian diets, had his chauffeur take him out to a big fancy steak dinner, then told his chauffeur he did that to test his faith—and the chauffeur was like well okay. Cult leaders are idiots, AND YET SUCCEED. When Bill says you can get anyone to hum along with your tune if you've got charisma? He's right—that's true in real life.

Manipulators get away with manipulation not because they tell such brilliant impeccable lies that the most clear-headed rational person in the world would believe them... but because they know to tell their lies to people who aren't clear-headed and rational, and because they know using cheap tricks and false identities and lies that the victim WANTS to be true works better than a flawless story, and because they know most people tend to give other people the benefit of the doubt that what they're saying is probably true.

So yeah, he's too cocky, he's a bit pathetic, he lost a lot, he loses at the end of the book... but that doesn't mean he's a bad manipulator. It means that being good at manipulating can only carry you so far, and Bill didn't have what it takes to carry him the rest of the way.

[lymtw]

NSFW

Gojo x f!reader

Description:

You're the prettiest thing to ever grace this man's eyes, is it so bad that he wants to show you how hot you get him?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Satoru takes advantage of how easy it is to fluster you. You turn bright red when he even looks at you for too long, how the hell does he think you can handle him touching himself right in front of you. It takes a lot for him to have your full attention when you're on the brink of passing out from how fast your heart is beating.

"Hey, hey," he waves in front of you when you avert your gaze to the wall. It shouldn't be as interesting as the show in front of you, given that it's a blank wall, but it's just so hard to focus when all you can do is watch. He specifically said, 'You can't touch until I say so, 'kay?' before he started.

"Princess, I need those eyes on me." He smiles, kindly. You turn your head to face him for a second, then look down, away from his intense gaze. "Up," he says, tilting your chin up with his index finger. He was able to feel the warmth that colored your face when he touched your chin. "Just want to show you how pretty you are, mama, that's all."

This lured your attention for a bit. He's showing you how much he loves you, is what you tell yourself. How could you turn away from him? You switched from sitting on the floor to sitting on your knees. In a way, it looked like you were worshipping the man sitting in front of you. You blink, nodding for him to continue.

"You know I think about you all the time, right?" His voice drops a little as he slowly starts moving his hand up and down his shaft. "God forbid you leave my mind for a second." He hisses, collecting the precum that spills from his tip and uses it to slicken his hand. "I can't let that happen, you know? It's not in my plans."

You fidget with your hands, the feeling between your thighs becoming more and more prominent as you focused on Satoru's voice and what he was doing.

"There's a constant image of you in my head. You're happy in that image, and it stays in here," he taps the side of his head with his free hand, "all day."

You smile a little. The information allows your heart to take a five second break. Not long enough because the next part managed to shake you up again.

"That image changes when you're not here, baby." He lets out a little sigh, his eyes shutting for a second. He opens them, and you get instant chills down your body when his hauntingly beautiful eyes stare straight into your eyes. "You go anywhere without me for longer than a couple hours and that image I told you about before... Poof." His hand mimics the act of vanishing. "Instantly replaced by the image of you being devoured by me. On your back, tits out, and the sound of my name repeated in that voice." His hand slows down a little. Just the mere mention is enough to challenge his composition.

"God..." his breath is shaky as he tries to keep going. He can't deny that your attention really enhances the lust coursing through him. "You're so fuckin' pretty." His abs quiver when he runs his thumb over the tip of his cock. "You've got the prettiest voice, prettiest moans—fuck... the prettiest lips." He lays his head back on the couch, fully unaware of the nail indents on the palms of your hands from trying not to touch him. His gaze returns to you, now lidded as his mind gets cloudier. "And you're all mine. No one else gets to touch you or taste you."

Now it's your turn to let out your ragged breaths. You look down bashfully, your hips pressing down on your legs to gain friction for the unbearable ache between your thighs. Your pussy is pulsing with need and there's nothing you can do.

Satoru laughs through his nose. He sees the way you're moving. "You do wonders for my ego, baby. You getting anything good down there?"

Your palms are cooled by the cold wooden floor. "No," you sigh. "It's not enough."

"Give me a minute," he says, shooting a small wink in your direction. The amount of precum drooling out of him is significant. It's quiet for a few seconds. All that can be heard are the slick noises of Satoru fisting his cock and the reactions from it. You're on the brink of melting on the floor, just from watching and listening to his whimpers and moans. "You'll never get to see how I get when you're not around. It doesn't feel right, princess." He pants, his brows pinching as his hand runs over a vein. "This is nothing in comparison."

You gasp, feeling a jolt of pleasure in one of the rolls of your hips.

"I couldn't even verbalize it. It's not appropriate for a sweet girl like you."

You let out a whimper, your head bowed down.

"Look at me." You raise your gaze, noticing the crumbling of his facade. "Watch the effect you have on me."

Your cheeks are red, and your face feels so hot.

He strokes himself a couple more times, holding eye contact with you. You know this memory will bring out the shy side of you whenever it comes to mind around him. It's the volume of his moans and the way his abs tense as he gets closer and closer to his peak that has your heart threatening to stop completely. It's the way he smirks at how flustered you are by him. It's way his brows furrow when he cums so hard that his whole body is trembling when he continues to fuck his fist. The moans were debilitating for you. Your ears had the rhythm of your heart blasting in them, making your entire head pulse, and all you could do was watch with your lips parted.

"Oh fuck..." he lets out a breathy chuckle. His stomach has cum gliding down to his pelvis, his hand definitely not exempt from the mess. "My pretty girl..." he sighs, a lazy satisfied smirk on his face. "You really have me acting like some prepubescent teenager for you." He caresses your face with his clean hand. "Feeling a little warm. You okay?"

"Just in shock." You smile, holding his hand against your cheek.

"This shouldn't have been shocking." His eyes widen humorously. "You know i'm in love with you, right? Like, borderline obsessed with you."

"I do, yes."

"Do I not show it enough? I'm genuinely concerned." He pouts, leaning towards you.

"This was just another way, 'toru. Don't worry," you offer him a reassuring kiss his cheek.

"Fine." He made a mental note to remind him to send you videos when you're away. You'll get enough to know he's thinking of you, but not enough to know that he's going crazy without you. "Let's take this to the room."

[onlyswan]

i’m back to give you my iw!couple brain rot 🤲, please handle with care.

but !! imagine jungkook and oc doing that “see how long we can go without kissing” challenge !! how would fold first? they’re both so competitive but smitten it makes me conflicted. 😣😣

knowing them, jungkook would be twitching his eye just from the thought of being deprived kissies so would oc give in first to let him win? or would jungkook just take what’s his?? 🤔

imagine oc being a blushing mess from staring at jungkook’s face for too long 😵‍💫 THEYRE SO CUTE I CANT THINK STRAIGHT😭🫶

summary: in which jungkook is twenty-six years old and yet… you still give him butterflies.

idol!jk x reader, established relationship / word count: 0.7k

content/warnings: sexual tension, making out, it’s honestly just them fighting over who gets to be on top

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe hi anonie… sorry… i kindaaa got carried away… i had to write out the thing or else i would’ve gone insane just talking about it <3 (written with love and care) <3

—

“i don’t understand this challenge.”

“me neither,”

jungkook remains in a hypnotic-like trance, doe eyes trained to your lips stained with a lighter shade of mixed red and brown.

“we’re this close and we can’t kiss…? this is absurd.”

“do they actually do this in bed? with someone on top?” you chuckle as you coyly twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. “i don’t think so?”

“i don’t know. i just wanted you to be comfortable.” he teasingly brushes his nose against yours, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended. “since, you know, we’ll be here a while.”

“oh wow. bringing me to bed, really? you’re that confident?”

he cockily raises an eyebrow. “hm, we both know you won’t be able to resist me here. you’re all over me all the time.”

you try not to roll your eyes in annoyance. and you also both know that you’re just as competitive, if not more.

“oh my god, you,” you mumble. the calm of your voice contrasts the aggressive push of your hand against your boyfriend’s naked chest. “and your stupid arrogance and your stupid need to flaunt your stupid hot body.”

in the blink of an eye, jungkook finds you stradding him, and himself, trapped underneath your body. he blinks in disbelief, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“this is dirty.”

you remove his glasses, moving it aside without care. “that’s just your mind.”

okay, perhaps bringing you to bed was a bad idea.

you lean down, slowly, close and then closer— it’s quite ridiculous that he’s nervous as if he doesn’t know what is bound to happen next: he’s thoroughly convinced that you’re going to kiss him.

once he feels your lips ghost over his, mere millimeters away, his eyelids flutter shut.

terrible idea. terrible.

the kiss, much to his disappointment, never happens.

he opens his eyes and your face is suddenly tucked in the space between his neck and shoulders, giggling and shaking and positively amused.

he turns away and squeezes his eyes shut. a painful admit of defeat against your infinite allure. “ah, i’m fucked.”

“we’ll get there later,” you lift your head, tilting his chin to face you.

you smile and scoot closer. so close that your bottom lips grazes his. he fails to remember the last time the two of you touched as chastely, as softly, but it felt like accidentally touching a live wire. he gets a funny feeling in his stomach. butterflies…? he’s twenty-six years old. he must be losing his mind.

“after you lose.”

“that’s not happening, baby.”

“yes, it will.”

“i won’t give up so easily.”

you give him an innocent look. “but i really think you will.”

you stare at each other for a little while, anticipating the other’s next move.

“fuck- yeah, okay-” he grits his teeth, taking advantage of his strength to finally flip back your positions. you’ve had your fun. “you’re right.”

“babe! ru-”

your surprised gasp is cut off by jungkook’s lips crashing on yours— curved into a smirk, you can feel it. your whines are muffled and swallowed by him, wrists caught in his hands and over your head because you were hitting his shoulder and he just wanted to kiss his baby properly.

“you lost,” you remark quietly when he draws back, only inches away, to scatter kisses along your face and down to your neck.

it tickles, you squirm in pleasure when he reaches near your collarbone, but your hands are still tied.

you were supposed to have him underneath you as a hot and flustered mess, not the other way around. damn it.

“really?” he feigns interest, lips finding their way back to yours. “doesn’t feel like it.”

[dark-konohagakure2]

Since your writing for black butler now how about sebastian x younger naïve reader maybe like ciels older sister

tw: dub/noncon, age difference, corruption, abuse of power, size difference, risky sex, virginity loss, blackmail, period typical misogyny

All characters depicted are 18+

Sebastian, despite not being human, isn't immune to sexual desire entirety. While demons don't experience attraction in the same way that humans do, they still feel it, and Sebastian's primary sexual attraction is towards those whom he can take advantage of.

While the terms of his Faustian contract prevents him from doing anything to harm his young master Ciel, there is a loophole, he technically wouldn't be harming or betraying the Earl by taking advantage of his elder sister, so that is exactly what Sebastian plans to do.

It isn't too hard, Sebastian has nearly unlimited access to his young lady given how busy Ciel is and how dimwitted the other servants are, and she's a naive and trusting young woman who's oblivious to Sebastian's true nature, so he can take advantage of her as easily as he can breathe.

He's tasked with assisting her in getting dressed every morning, so Sebastian is very accustomed to seeing her naked body, and he very much likes what he sees. It's a morning like any other when the demon butler finally decides to strike. He'll be helping her get undressed, but then he'll 'accidently' forget to give her a dress, but she has nothing to fear, because Sebastian has a solution to this mundane little problem.

"Ah, my apologies My Lady, but it seems I've forgotten to bring you your clothes for the day. Well, no matter, you can simply assist me with finding you the correct one in the closet..."

As soon as the closet door is shut behind them, Sebastian makes his move. He'll firmly force his gloved hand over her mouth, gently shushing her as she spreads her now trembling legs apart, testing her wetness with his skilled fingers. The naive young lady doesn't fully understand what he's doing, but Sebastian insists that she can trust her dutiful butler.

Despite his appearance as a tall and lean man, Sebastian is a very well endowed demon, so his thick cock will stretch her poor untouched hole to its limits as he bullies it inside of her, but he's an attentive butler, so he'll soothe and shush his young mistress if she's struggling and crying too much, reminding her that denying a man's needs is very unladylike.

Sebastian can just barely keep up his gentlemanly persona when he's balls deep inside of the object of his dark desires, the red color in his eyes glowing and becoming more pronounced as he pounds away at the poor girl, his hand still clamped over the young woman's mouth as he moves in and out of her, hardly able to hold back his primal demonic urge to bite down all the way into her throat.

Sebastian doesn't bother to pull out when he finally climaxes, he's almost certain that a demon can't impregnate a human, and even if he's wrong, she's at childbearing age anyway, so he'd be doing her a favor. When he's finished with her he'll almost instantly assume his butler persona again, but not before giving her some friendly advice.

"Th-There... I must say that felt great, my little lady... Do run along now, and don't speak of this to anyone. We don't want the Young Master to think his dear sister is a strumpet now do we?"

Sebastian's implicit threat seemed to work, as the young Phantomhive keeps her mouth shut about what happened between the two of them in the closet, this pleases the demon greatly, and now he gets to have a new human plaything to use as he sees fit.

[coeurify]

repost the period vampire ellie fic!

middle of the night,, vamp!ellie

a/n: this is a repost from early this year so excuse any change in writing style!

warnings: vampire!ellie. period sex. oral!r receiving fingering!r receiving. sort of a dreamy, less modern vibe. if u aren’t into it.. just don’t read it.

˚✦　.　　. 　  ˚　.　 . ✦　˚　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Some times--Most times, you only saw her at night. When darkness enveloped the small town you called home, when the stars rocked the sleepy eyed humans to sleep and the moon hummed the lullaby that quieted the crickets outside, she came.

Only then did you ever hear the distinct creaking of the splitting wood on your window panes being pressed up. Only then did the white of your sheer curtains move with more than the wind, the grip of the air nothing compared to the long hand that often wrapped around the fabric and pushed it open. When the moon was the only light filtering into your room, you saw the green of her eyes.

Tonight was no different, despite one little issue. Often, the woman who visited you under the cover of midnight would arrive to your eyes closed in sleep. She would press a hand to your warm cheek before waking you, greeted by your sleepy excitement each time.

This time, you had not been able to sleep. A heat had taken over your body, tight in your stomach with a pain you would compare to that of claws gnawing at your insides. Sweat beaded between your brows with every swift turn under your uncomfortable sheets, lip tugged between your frustrated teeth to stop any whines of discomfort. That had been what your favorite visitor heard as her shaking palms found the wood of your window. Your pained grunts floated through her buzzing ears as she quietly made her way into your room, auburn hair messy behind her ears as her figure became visible, head tilted as she looked across the room to your heated body.

“El,” you whined, wiping your forehead with a hand, not at all concerned about her chosen point of entry. “Go away.”

Ellie’s gaze softened, a scoff sounding from behind your squeezed shut eyes. “Go away?” she mused, her voice much closer now.

The split second your eyes had been closed, Ellie had somehow silently made it to your bedside. You don't question it, you never do.

When a girl like Ellie sports small fangs and a taste for blood, her speed is the last thing you think to question.

“I don't feel well, don’t want you here.” you add, mouth pulled into pout as you look up at the freckled face of Ellie.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, bunny? Instead of shooing me away,” Ellie requests, sitting on the edge of your bed. Her cold hand finds your sweaty arm, sighing. “You’re burning up.”

Your neck tickles with heat as Ellie questions your current state, and you fall wordless. Somehow, it was more embarrassing to admit to your vampire visitor that you were starting your period than to simply tell her to leave. Obviously however, Ellie was not taking the second option as a valid answer.

“I started my period, nothing is helpin’ the cramps,” you explain softly, pressing your hand into the sheets of your bed to try and sit, to maybe find some sort of relief to the growing tension in your stomach. But the other set of hands is faster.

“Lay down,” Ellie insists, glancing down at you. You can almost see the cogs of her brain turning behind the evergreen in her eyes, a sort of fogginess settling over the color.

“Let me help you,” she eventually says.

“What? I told you nothi-”

Ellie presses her lips together to hush you, one wandering hand finding the dip of your hip, blunt nail tracing the goosebump coated flesh there. Sometimes she liked being so cold, simply because she enjoyed seeing how you reacted to it. If she was damned for what she was, she may as well use some of it to her advantage.

“What are you doing?” You couldn't help the shiver that followed her movements.

Suddenly your mouth feels dry, tongue unable to wet the plump fat of your lip. The scratching in your throat finds no comfort when you swallow, only further irritating your vocal chords. A choked noise finds the heavy bedroom air as fingers tug at your cotton shorts.

“Helping you,” Ellie repeats, her own mouth much more wet than yours. Even in the dim light of the moon you can see the glistening dew on her parted lips. Usually the look she currently wears is saved only for when her pearly teeth find the sensitive and already scarred skin of your neck. Not for.. this.

Your hands immediately slap to your heated cheeks. “Oh my god Ellie, no fucking way.”

The vampire, who had now moved below you on the bed, hums in disagreement to your little show of kicking feet, a hand too strong to be that of a human halting all movements.

“We always have fun when I come over,” The freckles of her face disappear as she glances down, fully pulling down your shorts.

“Not when I’m on my period,” you hiss quietly, the words feeling cracked and embarrassed as they leave your mouth. You could deny the growing arousal in your belly simply by how *mortified* you felt. Even with the churning feeling of deeply settled embarrassment, you make no further moves to stop Ellie. Not as the shorts fall to the floor with a dull thump.

“It’ll help,” Ellie soothes, the near frigid temperature of her hand calming the heat that rises on the skin of your legs. “Haven’t you heard things like this help with cramps?”

The words that are spoken almost teasingly fall upon deaf ears as her wet lips press right above your knee. “Please,” the auburn haired girl whispers, sounding a lot more breathy than before. “Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel better. ”

Ellie had a tendency to become a little less cold, figuratively at least, when she found her body nestled between your own. The unwavering voice you had grown oh so accustomed to always slid into a more mushy sounding version whenever it got intimate. Today, it seemed even worse. The words dripped with the sweet sounds of neediness, a sound that tasted sweet on your tongue, which swiped nervously over your dry lips.

“El..” Another kiss pressed further up the flesh of your warm thigh broke any following denial. “Fuck..” your chin wobbles, almost too embarrassed to actually say your following words, “Yea. Please help.”

You were sure if you believed something was watching down on you from the sky, it was with horror. Some people may call what Ellie was doing sinful. The angels in the clouds would shrilly gasp as fingers wrapped around your panties and tugged them and everything else from your bottom half, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes. Her shirt came next, the simple white cloth acted as something to watch as it pulled off of her chest, likely to avoid any mess. Some may call the sight of her dipping down again, green eyes looking up at your quivering lip, sinful. Maybe it was, surely the mewl you made when her lips found the heated flesh of your inner thigh was. But if you had to describe it, that wasn't the word you would use. You may even swear it was heavenly.

“Relax,” Ellie drawled, spreading your thighs further apart, despite the slight tremble to them. “I’ve got you, don't worry,” her voice soothed you enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed. The embarrassment simmered low in your belly, even more so when you could feel the arousal that dripped from you, which your vampire visitor had no problem pointing out. “So wet for me,” she groaned, lips still refusing to find home anywhere other than your thighs. Teeth sharper than your own nipped at the skin there, bucking your hips up. “You want this, don’t you?”

It was an obvious request for another confirmation of what was to come, but your chest felt too tight to reply, no air finding your lungs the moment her breath hovered over your pulsing core. “Tell me you want it,” she requests again, voice dipping into a softer territory again, searching for your approval. Her resolve was cracking however, jaw clicking as she tried her best not to dive straight into where she craved to be.

“I do,” you whine, eyes still closed as you answered, words met with the quick and overwhelming feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your wet center. You couldn’t think too hard about the fact she was doing this right now, not when the sharp gasp had come from two mouths instead of one, a quick call of, “Fuck,” from only you this time followed. Ellie had no words, not as her tongue made another long stripe up your pussy, going much slower than you liked. It led one small roll of your hips down into her, a sign for what you searched for.

It resulted in a hand gripping your hip, pressing you further down into the mattress, ceasing any attempt to control the movements. Her mouth pressed further into you, licking at the same excruciatingly slow pace, seemingly taking her time to enjoy the taste she found between your thighs. “El,” you gasp, eyes fluttering open to glance down at her. However her eyes were closed, another press further into you came, her nose bumping your clit as she licked into you. The rush it brings is almost enough to completely paint over the lingering cramping in your stomach.

The dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure seeps into your bones, making you feel too heavy to do much else than move a hand to find Eliie’s hair, fingers tangling between the auburn strands. You tried again to guide her movements, but she was much stronger than you, paying little mind to the shaky hand that tugged at her locks.

“Taste so fuckin..” she sucked in a breath, unable to keep from dipping back into your folds, humming. “So fuckin’ good,” she finishes, words reverberating against your throbbing core. It had you trying to squirm, held down by the stone light weight of Ellie’s grip. The deeper she licked, the more you fought against her. Your body ached the do something.. anything to find comfort in the overwhelming feeling of her still slow pace. The fingers in her hair tugged again, finding a low groan in response.

The air of the room had already been heavy on your feverish skin, but now it was nearing a state of unbearably humid. Every time Ellie’s tongue made a particularly aimed movement you felt another round of fire straight in the mess that was your clenching core. It all felt so heightened, so much better. The sticky feeling on your skin did not slow either of you down, and you had little care for the sweat beading on your flesh. Not when your favorite girl’s lips were doing such mind numbing things to you.

Had you told your past self, even that of just an hour ago, that you would have allowed it to happen.. They would have laughed in your heated face. The past version of you would have sworn up and down, prayed up to the mysterious sky, that this would never happen. But now- now you have no room for denial or regret. Your mind was becoming too cloudy to house thoughts of shame, questions of if this was right. Because it felt right. The slick sound of Ellie’s mouth against you sounded right, as did your little huffs and puffs that you couldn't hide. The cramps had subsided in tandem with the tightening band in you. But you needed more, and you were gone past a point of being embarrassed to ask for it.

“I need..” you try to speak, but Ellie’s lips wrapping around your clit is the cause of the death of the forming words. A jolt of your hips is one finally strong enough to rupture the heavy hold of the vampire’s hand. Your lame attempt at a command did not go unheard by Ellie, who for the first time since this began, pulled herself away from your cunt. Her eyes darted up, looking to meet your own. But you were far too focused on something else. Her lips were glassy with your wetness, which she licked without a second thought. But the usual clear sheen that you had been no stranger to seeing on her face was more of a rosy color, a stark reminder of the reason this had begun in the first place. The slight tint of red smeared onto her chin, across the corners of her mouth, and it was oh so addicting to see. You felt no lingering shame, no shiver of disgust. Instead it made you feel even more desperate to have her against you again, but first you had to listen to her speaking. “Need what, babe?”

The urge to simply shove her face right back into your cunt flipped through the pages of scenarios in your head, but the moonlight that painted the side of your lover’s face, illuminating the red paintbrush stroke of you, had you a little too separate to risk such a bratty action.

“I need more, El. Need to cum,” you manage to whine, one light push of her head to prove your point. Ellie dipped her head down again, pressing small kisses to your sticky inner thighs. “Just love taking my time with you,” she muttered, a few more pecks planted on you were a search for forgiveness, one you graciously accepted with a loud moan when the lips finally found your clit again.

Ellie seemed to take your beg to heart, the hand that held your hip slowly dipping between your thighs. Her searching fingers met just below her chin, one long digit sliding over your slit, teasing the weeping hole with a slight press. The air feels like it has been punched from your lungs when the finger sinks into you, just as evil as her mouth as it curls into you the exact moment her lips suck a little harder. You were sure she was looking to torture you with how slowly the finger pumped in and out, working and exploring around your walls that gripped around her so tightly.

You had always heard the mythical vampire was sadistic. Ellie had never been much of that, but with ever slow movement into your aching cunt, you began to believe the whispers. Your head turned lightly to stare at the open window, the stars that dipped in the night sky were surely spotlighting your body splayed out on the bed, the auburn haired vampire between your thighs was quite the show for all the celestial beings up in the night air, every single being held its breath and watched on, you were sure of it. You didn't blame the stars, or the moon, or whatever else may have their attention focused on this tantalizing sight. If you could, you would float right out of your body to watch on yourself.

Surely you looked a mess, chest heaving with the heat of the air, with the heat of Ellie. Your limbs shook just lightly, your fingers knotted your companions hair, the messy pile of clothes on the floor, the red that painted her cheeks. Surely it would make your cheek turn bashfully if you could see it. Maybe this was sinful. The little dip into your rushing thoughts is ended with the raspy tone of Ellie’s voice.

“Relax, bunny. Gotta relax for me,” Ellie cooed against you, a few more languid presses into your cunt causing you to finally loosen around her, coupled by the continuing ministrations from her mouth on your clit. Soone another finger joins the mix, the large fingers stretching you just right. She reaches spots that have you remembering the stars you had just seen behind the black of your squeezed shut eyes, a pathetic cry falling from your lips. This reaction only encourages her to continue, the pace of her suckles and thrusts into you speed up. It's harsher everytime she plunges into you, your hips moving lightly with the pure force.

“That’s my girl, there you go,” she compliments after a long moan, the words causing another clench around her fingers. You let out another string of incoherent whines and moans, grinding down into her messy face and fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you cursed yourself and Ellie for the certainly ruined bedspread under your ass, but it seems like the much smaller issue when you had *this* to focus on. You were nearing your peak, and it was no secret. Your grinds against Ellie became sloppy, ununiformed and more needy than before. No words could form on your tongue, only whimpers and unintelligible begs.

The vampire never lets up, curling her fingers, your walls clenching. her teeth grazed against your clit lightly enough to have you trembling, whining softly. She knows your body as well as you do, every small sign you were reaching the final moments before your world would explode. She knew what moves of her fingers would have your legs shaking, knew where to press, how hard to go. She was no stranger to making you cum, and she definitely was on the mission to make it happen now. Her free hand grips your thigh, pushing you even more impossibly open for her, fingers pressing into you harshly enough to draw another cry. She readjusts slightly, sinking even deeper into your folds. “C’mon,” Ellie whispers, the word slightly broken, shaky and pleading. Pleading as if she needed you to come as much as you did.

Maybe she did, because the moment your back arched, a near pornographic moan filling the heavy air, spilling out of the window and swirling against the peeping eyes of the stars and moon, she moaned with you. Her fingers still within you as you gushed around her, her lips still pressed to your clit. But as your thighs shook, she slid the fingers out and replaced them with her tongue again. The pink muscle flattened against your slit again like it had earlier, this time with no attempt at going slow.

If anything, she was ravenous. Every drop your pulsing center gifted her, she sucked down like she needed it, ignoring your desperate whines of overstimulation. You attempted lamely to press her head away with the hand still tangled in her scalp, but it was no use. The pleasure of her tongue was much too overwhelming to fight.

After a moment that felt like hours, she pulled away. Her tongue licked over her lips again, collecting the rosy colored cum from where it smudged there. Her eyes stayed on your own blinking irises as her fingers raised to her already messy lips. They were coated with the same mixture of red and clear shining wetness, and she sunk them into her mouth with a moan. The debautchary that took place in front of your eyes should have your stomach queasy, should have your legs closing and pressing far away from Ellie.

But of course it doesn't, instead you watch on with morbid curiosity, watching her tongue curl around her fingers, sucking the last bits of you, leaving a glistening layer of her own spit behind. She found no shame in this situation, no shame in drinking down evey single thing you would give her, so why should you?

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes transfixed on the fingers as they fall from her lips and down to her lap, her eyes back on your own. She makes a move to crawl over you, arms locking you in from either side.

“Just got a taste of you bunny,” she mumbles, nudging her head into the crook of your neck.

Her lips pressed there, and this time you could feel her fangs under the plump fat of her lip. “Gonna let me have more?” she questioned.

Of course you would, of course you did. As you tilted your neck for her, the curtain to the side of you blew in the wind, and you closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

[inumakis-boo]

May I have some dating Toge Inumaki headcanons? Both sfw and NSFW... If you're comfortable.

TOGE INUMAKI ♫₊˚.🎧 ✧💬

headcanons 𓍢ִ˖ hello and thank you for the requests! i am current rediting all of my posts, so if this looks a little different than when you first saw it, thats the reason why!

anyways, i hope all of you enjoy! and if course, NSFW will be tagged and is written for a female perspective.

safe for work headcanons

- would probably not notice each other the first time you meet, maybe an interested glance but it doesn't really hit until the second or third time that he really sees you

- probably asks for your number just so yall can talk better, and once you do, its an instant connection. he literally wouldnt be able to stop, staying up all night to text you

- texts you out of the blue, and although probably feels embarrassed to double text, he is just that interested in you

- would totally deliever a bag of goodies he bought at the store for you, and additionally maybe offer to make you a lunch to try before he makes it for everyone else

- you comment on one of his t-shirts he wears and he puts it in one of the goodie bags he buys you, doused in his cologne because he wants you to think of him

- would totally send annoying memes and tiktoks and bully you over text, also play 8-ball COMPETITIVELY cause he aint gonna lose to you (he doesnt even pity lose to you)

- shows up unannounced just to kiss you in the door frame of your dorm room as a goodnight and then leaves you there

- that is until you invite him over to your dorm at night and he brings post-it notes and teaches you his semi-bilingual language for easier understanding, and utterly loves you for it

- the talking stage would be him just pining over you cosntantly, writing it all down in journals or in his notes app

- after yall started dating, it is very much a no public affection mostly because he doesnt want anybody to be in your business. especially with his noisy ass friends

- but no matter what, he is going to hold your hand, especially when going on dates and walking around campus at night (would definitely talk u into sneaking out)

- he would be hesistant to kiss you even after yall became offical, probably go a few weeks before you just say it straight that you want him to kiss you and you dont even get it all out before hea pinning you to a door and giving you the best kiss of your life

- would absolutely use his speech on you so you cannot resist it when he tickles you or when you are beating him in a game

- he is not the sappiest guy, but if you start to get sappy over a movie or a sad book, he will rub your back and give you head-kisses to help you feel better

below is not safe for work content. mdni.

not safe for work headcanons

- you find out very quickly into the relationship that he cannot resist a challenge of any kind. therefore, using that to your advantage always works out

- challenging him through text to sneak out of his dorm will work, but ofc he wants a prize at the end (you are on your knees for the next hour)

- the benefit of his speech is that you don't feel any fatigue whatsoever during its use, so that makes it really easy to make your body endure while you deep-throat him over and over.

- it doesn't diminish the pleasure though; being told to stay still while he fondles your chest takes away nothing from the experience, and he knows how much you like having no choice.

- not that even if it was tiring, you wouldn't let him throat-fuck you, the noises he makes are heavenly for someone who can't speak straight, the struggle of watching him grip the bedframe and biting his lips so he doesn't utterly ruin you is SO worth a bruised throat.

- he might be nervous to use his speech on you the first time, but after you make sure that you can handle it, its becomes so much more confident in using it

- he loves making out with you, he loves making your lips red with all the biting, he wants to see them glossy and wet right before he puts his fingers in your mouth (you know where they are going next)

- sexting is so fun, yall thought it might be cringy, but its literally the best when he calls you with a command and he gets to listen to you whimper and moan as he jerks off to it, can be totally unexpected

- "Ride me."

- hand on your thigh when nobody can see, and his pinky is awfully close to your panties that it makes you nervous.

- ofc he can easily make you cum, but will he always let you? not without a cute little 'please' hes not. begging is fun, isnt it?

- lets be honest, the dick game is so good he don't even have to tell you to go to sleep after

- ofc he would definitely lay it down on you exactly how he described through text, and then clean you with special wipes he bought from the store because he aint a dickhead, duh.

I have so many more, especially for different situations, so lmk if you want more! Thank u for all the support as of recently!

bye pookies!

[adhdstudybitch]

Currently, at work, there's a debate about whether my coworker (who sprained his ankle and needs a chair at the register) is faking his disability. And every single time I tell someone "debating whether someone is faking disability sets a horrible precedent wherein you think you're allowed to determine who is and isn't disabled, who does and doesn't 'deserve' accommodations, and just serves to harm disabled people by setting impossible standards that force us to injure ourselves to prove that we're "disabled enough" in your eyes," it's immediately followed up with "okay but here's why I think he's faking it."

One coworker was like "but you're different, you actually work hard-" like yeah dude because if I don't I'm afraid you'll think I'm faking and guess what I'M RIGHT. YOU FUCKING WILL. But thanks for confirming that, in your eyes, I'm one of "the good disabled people" who don't "force" you to have to remember or acknowledge our disabilities by, you know, existing in the same space as you. Love the pedestal you've put me on, can't wait for your reaction when I inevitably fall off it! Can't wait for the day when I can't just "push through" and be a hard worker in your eyes, anymore.

Yesterday's cherry on top of the workplace ableism is when another coworker was complaining about the one she thought was faking it and said "I'm so annoyed, I just want to hide the chairs." The chairs. Plural. Because one of those chairs is MINE. So these righteous assholes think that because they don't like this dude (and believe me, that is why they're doing this. He gets on all of their nerves, including mine half the time) they think it's okay to threaten to remove every disability aid in sight. Cuz fuck the people who need them, who gives a shit about that when I can fuck over this one dude I don't like, right?

And this is what is what I mean when I tell my coworkers that it goes beyond this one coworker. It's the precedent you're setting. It's the way you're willing to screw over every disabled person if you even so much as think someone is faking and taking advantage of accommodations (and what's the massive violation in this case? What are we cheating the system out of? Oh, standing in one place for long periods of time, a behavior that we know fucks people's bodies up? Wow, gasp, how awful, poor corporate bastards not being able to break every single person they hire *eye roll*) it's the way abled people will claim they're trying to protect disabled people when they're actively harming us and refusing to listen or even doubling down when we try to education them. It's the way I told my coworker that I break myself every shift just to make sure none of those fuckers have any reason to say that I'm being lazy, just so he could roll his eyes at me like I'm being dramatic.

I'm just over it. I shouldn't even be working right now. My whole care team wants me to go on disability but that shit isn't enough to live on, and I don't have any other choices. I gotta work. I gotta work myself into the fucking ground, I gotta be ten times better than all of them, just to hear some abled asshole talk about hiding my chair cuz she's mad at a different disabled coworker. It's fucking disgusting.

(Edit: okay to reblog)