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lokischocolatefountain · 2 months

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Denial || Men Like Me

Part 2 of the Men Like Me series. Part 1

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girthy age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), masturbation (male & female), cis fem reader, descriptions of reader's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, Joel ignores you until he can't, slightly insecure reader, very insecure Joel, corruption kink, mild fem!dom, reader turns the tables a little, name calling, fetishization of virginity, face fucking (not the mouth, but cheek), kneeling, stripping, moneyshot, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 10.4k Summary: After your steamy encounter, Joel ignores you out of guilt, leaving you feeling unworthy. But you make a discovery that makes you turn the tables on him. A/N: The reception that chapter 1 got gave me enough serotonin to keep me going, you guys. I hope everyone likes this chapter at least half as much if not as much as the first one. Even the half would give me a lot of joy. And do say hi in my inbox or my asks. I would loooove to talk about these two. As always, pleaaaaaase give me reblog and/or a comment to recharge my writing batteries. Most importantly, a big thanks to @tobuildahomeinthewoods because the smut part was from their idea in the last chapter's comments .

“Long day, huh?”

“What?” you asked, your brain taking a second too long to process the words. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you said, going back to your glass of whiskey.

“I heard about the kids. They gotta be more careful,” Tommy said, looking to his brother for some kind of confirmation. Joel nodded hesitantly, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he traced the rim of his glass with his middle finger. So cavalier like he didn’t fuck you with that very finger. Asshole.

“Yeah, yeah. Climbing trees is not wise,” you agreed, willing yourself to look away from his brother. You didn’t want to get caught staring, or worse glaring. The chatter of the dinner crowd at the Tipsy Bison drowned into the sound of you tapping your fingers on the wood counter of the bar. You got up abruptly, the bar stool going down from the force of your actions. You bent over to pick it up, a hand moving to your chest instinctively to keep from flashing everyone. With no such protection for your ass, you could feel familiar eyes on them. Eyes that you’d become accustomed to having on you no matter the distance.

“You ok–” Tommy began, but you cut him off.

“You have a good one, Tommy,” you said, grabbing your bag from the bar counter and slinging it over your shoulder. “I gotta go. I’m really tired.”

Like the fool that you were, you picked your glass up and downed the rest of the whiskey, your throat rejecting the choice with a cough that had you spit out half of the burning liquor. Great. Now you’d have to wash your scrubs before going to bed so it didn’t stain. Fucking great.

There were some protests from the younger Miller brother, some words of concern. But you ignored him as you hurried out of the Tipsy Bison and into the night. At least one of the Millers had some manners. And it wasn’t the one that broke into your house and showed you what a clitoris was. It was fucking embarrassing that he was ignoring you after that. Even more embarrassing that you had to learn it from a random guy when you were the one poring over anatomy textbooks trying to become a doctor. You should know anatomy better than anyone else. Your mentor should’ve taught you. You’d learned how to conduct a safe childbirth. Even been allowed to close up the last c-section patient. But you didn’t fucking learn how the baby got in there.

Alright well, you did. But you hadn’t been told about some of the especially sensitive parts of the body that would be involved in the process.

You tossed your bag on your couch, got yourself some cookies that you traded for last week and climbed up the stairs to your bedroom. It wasn’t a nutritious dinner, but it filled your tummy. It came in handy when you didn’t want to spend time chopping vegetables and boiling pasta or whatever the hell you had to do to cook.

Your bedroom had become your prison in the last two weeks. You felt trapped, unable to see beyond it. How could you, when it ironically was right here that you found freedom?

Even as you did something as mundane as eating cookies on bed and spilled crumbs on your sheets like a child, the chair in front of your dressing table was in sight. From where you sat, you could see very clearly the scratch on the black paint that revealed the light wood underneath. Evidence of how you had to hold on to dear life as Joel worked your pussy expertly. Like he knew it as well as he knew the tools of his trade. Like weaving his fingers between your folds was as familiar to him as it was for you to weave through skin with your suture needle and thread.

You felt yourself dripping at the mere memory of his thick fingers pumping away inside you, unraveling the fibers of your being. The sight of him at the bar– his finger tracing the rim of the glass– it took you to the memory of that very finger teasing your pussy.

The pornographic magazines, the entertainment for men, no longer saw the light of day from their box under your bed. Pictures of nude women you wanted to model yourself after in order to be attractive to men no longer sufficed. All you strived for now was to be attractive to him. To be strung like a puppet in his hands while all he seemed to want was to get away from any place where you were.

You felt a pang in your chest as you recalled the first time you went to the house of worship after your time with Joel to find that he’d been replaced with the younger Miller. Tears stung in your eyes as you felt rejected by his absence. Like he no longer wanted to be in the same room as you, hammer nails into wood as you spoke to your fellow townspeople about their wellbeing. You told yourself it was just a temporary thing. That the brothers just liked to alternate shifts and he would return soon to fix the windows that shattered during a storm in the winter.

He never came.

You’d never experienced such rejection before. You’d never wanted before. To want was to risk rejection, to feel the pit in your stomach as you felt now. You never wanted to feel less than, undesirable, unwanted. So you pulled away from all the men you dated. If you could even call that dating. Maybe it was your own fault for thinking it would be easier with Joel. What did you think? That he would fold immediately because you showed off your legs and touched his arm and pushed your breasts out to present your femininity?

Naive, stupid girl.

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.”

Something twisted in your belly and you lied down, pulling your covers over you as though it would contain the shame coursing through you.

You probably looked silly to him, like a little girl playing adult. Like a kitten picking a fight with a lion. Less than half his age, just a fucking preschooler on outbreak day when he would’ve been a fully grown man. Maybe already beginning to gray, the skin by his eyes crinkled from the years he spent smiling at and wooing women. Why would he want a girl? He’d want a real woman. Someone like Tommy’s wife, perhaps. Someone he wouldn’t have to teach.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man?” his taunt rang cold in your ear, sending chills down your spine like he was still behind you, fingers buried deep inside the most intimate part of you. You pressed your thighs together, heat pooling between them as it always happened when you thought of what he did to you.

Shame didn’t deter you as you brought your fingers to your pussy, brushing one against your clit with curiosity. With fear. It felt so good, like its sole purpose went beyond the animal need to survive and propagate. You bypassed it to touch your weeping slit, more comfortable with what you were already used to for carnal pleasure.

Your own fingers had always been enough. Out in the wilderness when you needed to release pent up energy. After long days at the clinic and sharing notes with the other students. When you were tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep. Your fingers always took you to where you needed. You were always satisfied.

Not anymore.

You whined as the different angles you tried failed to work. The physical pleasure was the same. But not quite like how it felt with him. His hand was larger, his fingers longer and thicker. He showed you sports inside you that you’d never been able to touch yourself. Maybe this was what people meant when they said ignorance was bliss. Knowledge of pleasure you could have but couldn’t give yourself was torture.

As much as you resented Joel now, you couldn’t help but conjure images of him as you brought yourself closer to release. His deep brown eyes, his large hand that he wrapped around your throat, the way he carried you from your chair and deposited you on your bed. Like a human being weighed nothing to him. Like you were his toy that he could bury his fingers in, play with and set aside when he was done, when he was bored. Entertainment for Men came to your mind again and you cried like you never had at your own touch.

Your thighs trembled as you imagined yourself as one of those women in the magazines, but only for him. Entertainment for Joel. Splayed out on the center page for him to look at and fuck his hand to. You wouldn’t mind being tangible entertainment. Laid out on his bed, limbs arranged in an attractive manner for him, so he could access whatever part of your body he wanted to play with. To be bent to his will and fucked, to be used, given an affectionate pat on your pussy and put away when you’d outlasted his needs only to be given attention when he wanted to get off the next time.

You shook uncontrollably, your eyes squeezed shut and the world went blank as you reached your peak. You pulled your spare pillow to your chest, needing some physical comfort after experiencing such a high. You wished it were him instead of an inanimate object. That he would make you feel good and hold you and kiss you all over. That he would stay when you woke up the next day and do it all over again.

Once the haze of your orgasm cleared up, you cringed at the feelings it had brought out of you. How stupid… Wanting a man who broke in, fucked you with his fingers, and began ignoring you like you did something horrible to him. Fuck Joel Miller and fucking his stupid fucking face. As he said, there were other men in the town. Men who wouldn’t ignore you.

⌘

“How are the windows lookin’?”

“Fixed ‘em up in time for the cold winds. No thanks to you, fuckin’ asshole.”

“Sorry. Y’know I ain’t the church going type.” It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t the church kind before Sarah died and he certainly wasn’t anymore. That the young aspiring doctor he fingered in her bedroom was the real reason behind him swapping work would remain his secret.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy grumbled, playing with the now cold fries on his plate. “It ain’t a church, by the way. Maria keeps correctin’ me. It’s the house of worship.”

Joel rolled his eyes at that. He got the reasoning behind it. The town had people who believed in different Gods and had different religions. Calling the place a Church would be as unfair as calling it a– whatever, he didn’t know any other kind of place for worship. But it still pissed him off when his little brother came to him and went on about something his wife said.

Go off and do whatever your wife tells you, motherfucker.

No matter how he tried, the snide voice in his head that hated Maria never went away. He never said anything to her or Tommy. Maria was decent to him too, unlike the time he first arrived with Ellie. She trusted him with Miles. Invited him and Ellie over to family dinners. But they kept their interactions to a minimum, as though there’d been a silent agreement that it was best they kept it civil so as to not sow discord in the family.

“Whatever. No point in worshiping, be it Jesus or whatever stuff they got goin’ these days.”

A shudder went down his spine, triggered by the talk of religion. As it became colder, Ellie had begun to revert to the empty shell of a child she was after the events in Colorado. There’d been grifters in the past hiding behind religion to cheat people out of their money, to damage children irreparably while preaching the word of God. The end of the fucking world somehow didn’t stop them from going on. Didn’t stop people from believing that an all-knowing, all-powerful guy in the sky was still watching and would protect them.

If what protected people was God, guns were God. And Molotov cocktails. Sharp rocks and shoelaces.

Ellie didn’t tell him much, but from what he could piece together, it was a religious group with one guy leading them. And they were fuckin’ cannibals. Sounded like a goddamn cult.

“It’s a nice place to meet people,” said Tommy, snapping him out of his descent into the void of the recent past.

Joel simply snorted and took a sip of his glass of water. He couldn’t handle his alcohol like he used to. Age and that he had been off his usual cocktail of oxy and whiskey for a long time now. He had to resort to having a lot of water to sober himself up after the occasional evening drinks with Tommy.

“What? It is! I go there, catch up with everyone in town. Usually people go there when they’re going through some shit. It makes them feel conscious if you visit their house. So I just run into ‘em at the Chu– house of worship– and I just talk to them about their lives ‘n see if there’s anything I can do for them.”

“Guess you’re right,” he said, slotting his thumbnail in the ridges on the bar counter absentmindedly, scraping off bits of the old softening wood.

He could go again. Only so many days he could ignore you. But the reminder of the shame coursing through his veins when he saw you this evening made him shake the thoughts off. There was no way he could be anywhere you were without shriveling up and dying of embarrassment.

You were so young.

Relatively unblemished by the world. A fuckin’ virgin. Never known the touch of a man and moaning his name as you touched yourself.

Nope, nope, nope. Shouldn't have gone there, he thought as he felt himself hardening in his pants. Shouldn’t his dick be non-functional by now? He was dangerously close to sixty and spent a good two decades without adequate nutrition. Shouldn’t that be enough to turn his dick limp forever?

“Come over tomorrow, then. We’re doin’ a little memorial thing in the back of the house of worship. That young doctor’s idea, actually. She put the idea forward at the last council meeting. Thinks it’ll help people to have something physical to remember their people by.”

Young, sweet, and so fucking thoughtful.

Not meant for men like him.

Yet he went the next day.

The topic of Sarah hung in the air around him and Tommy like a fog beyond which they couldn’t see. It sat heavy in his chest, the memory of his baby and worse, everything his shit brain had forgotten. He remembered that she gave him shit, mocked him over everything. But she didn’t have a voice in his head anymore. He could describe the sweetness of her voice, but it no longer sounded out in his mind. No matter how hard he tried.

Her favorite color was purple and she loved soccer. He couldn’t recall the name of her team. She loved reading. He didn’t remember her favorite author. She liked animated movies. He couldn’t remember a single one. Just the vague memory of her falling asleep on his lap as cartoon characters chirped away on tv. Even her face was beginning to blur. When he recalled her features, it was only through images of the last seconds of her life.

“We could just do alphabetical order. Simple.”

“Not really,” you said, scribbling lines on the paper. “We get new people in the town sometimes and we don’t want the names they add to stand out, away from the alphabetically ordered list. Might make them feel bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What about age?” Tommy suggested.

“Still the same problem. It would force newcomers to have their own separate list at the bottom.”

“How about a first come first serve system? We tell people when we’re taking names down for the memorial and they can come over, form a queue and give us the names they want included. That way, people can keep the names of the people they love in one spot on the memorial instead of having it scattered all over because of age or alphabetical order.”

“What do you think, Joel?” Tommy asked, making him fold his arms over his chest and sigh. He didn’t give a shit. But that wasn’t the most amicale thing to say when someone was trying to do an objectively good deed. Unlike the other people in this town, he didn’t deserve to add the names of his people to a memorial. He failed in protecting them. He didn’t deserve to mourn like he wasn’t the reason they went into early graves.

“Yeah, ‘s good. I agree.” He said, finding no faults with your proposal to order the names of the deceased by the order in which people gave it to ‘em. He didn’t know why he was being asked all this. It wasn’t like he was on the council like them. He was just takin’ measurements when he got dragged into this.

“How many names do you think we’ll get?” Tommy asked him in yet another attempt to get him involved.

Taking pity on his brother, he began a rough estimate of the number of names they’d get for the memorial and how much surface area they’d need for carving them in. “Six hundred people in town. Babies don’t have names to give. Kids wouldn’t have too many and if they had any, it would be on their parents’ list too. How many kids in this town?”

It was a fucking nightmare, sitting there at the table with you and doing calculations when all he wanted was to throw you over his shoulder and take you back to his place. Make you pose like you were posing in front of your mirror that day. Like women in those porno magazines he sneaked into his teenage bedroom and jerked off to. The fuck were you even thinking? Door left open, tits out, fingers in your cunt and his fucking name on your lips.

Did you notice him at your door and decided it would be a fun trick to play on an old man? Or did you always scream his name when you fucked yourself? When was the first time? Did you always come so prettily on your own fingers like you came on his? Being in the dark drove him crazy. But part of him felt that getting the answers would drive him absolutely fucking insane.

The thought alone was enough to make him feel uncomfortable in his pants. He adjusted himself on his seat and looked away from you, afraid that somehow you’d be able to tell that he was having improper thoughts about you when you were talking about honoring the dead. If thinking about you sexually in a church was bad, he was sure it was worse to think it when you were trying to help people memorialize their dead.

You had an air of innocence about you. The brightness of your eyes and the way you moved your hands about as you planned the details of this memorial and scribbled them out on your little notebook. He’d been attracted to that innocence from the very start. A rare thing to find out in the world. When even babies were born into violence and oppression, innocence was a luxury no one even thought to acquire.

A virgin, too.

His cock twitched in his pants. He gulped and looked around to check if anyone had caught his shameless response. Nope.

He was surprised you were a virgin. For all your innocence, you were also fucking beautiful. There were plenty of guys in town. Ladies too, if you liked that. Anyone would’ve snatched you up quick and made sure to show you a world of pleasure. It didn’t take him long knowing you to give in to temptation. It was fucking impossible that no man had worshipped with his head between your thighs. That no man who saw you in your pretty little dresses bent you over and filled you up with his cock.

You were beautiful. Even more so when you came on his fingers. Made all those pretty little sounds. The way you said his name… Nobody had said it like that in such a long time. Not even Tess.

It rang in his head whenever he found himself alone at home. Being in possession of your panties didn’t help matters. White cotton. Innocent. Covered in your dried up release. When he left that day, he made sure to suck on his fingers. Moaned like a fucking creep while going down your stairs. Eyes closed, he could still taste you on his tongue. After so many days. A little tangy with a hint of salt from your sweat and all woman.

It had been embarrassingly long since he felt like a man. He’d been father, brother, smuggler, and father again. But long since he was just man. Never someone desirable. Out there, sex was just for release. Purely biological. The end of the fucking world did not afford good hygiene. You fucked someone because they were the safest option. Not because you were attracted to them.

You, however… You had others in this town. You were here before him. Younger, smarter, with a body that worked perfectly fucking well. You could have anyone but it was his name you were moaning out in the privacy of your room.

He grunted as your voice crept back into his mind. The ‘Joel, please’, and the ‘Sir’.

He grabbed on to the railing as his thighs trembled, afraid he would have an embarrassing fall. His breaths grew quicker and his mind void of everything but you.

On your knees. On your back. On your front so he could fuck you from behind. Your hand around his cock. Your lips stretched out around him as you struggled with his size. Fistful of your hair as you begged for release. Please, Sir. Please, Joel. The heat of your tight velvety cunt. Tears blurring your wide eyed innocence as he stretched out your rear hole. He wanted to take you everywhere, leave you burning with him. Mark you so deep every man you let in after you would know who fucked you first.

It didn't take long. The mental images of you were far too effective. His last time was too long ago. He was too old to last. Too old to want you. Somehow the reminder only pushed him further along. Sticky white cum coated your panties, mixing your scent with his. The mirror showed him a reflection of himself. Old, gray, crow’s feet by his eyes. He dropped your panties in the hamper, the warmth of his own release on his hand and the shame on his face sobering him up quickly.

He wanted to teach you sin. But you had taught him more of it already than you would ever know.

⌘

“Cool jacket, dude!”

“Uh…thanks. I traded for it years ago” you said, digging your thumb nail between the teeth of the zipper. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it worked well on cold nights that weren’t cold enough to warrant a sweater. “Is Joel in? I need to talk to him about a building project.”

“Yeah,” said Ellie before pressing her lips into a thin line. “I mean, he was awake half an hour ago when I left, but he could be in dreamland by now. Cause he’s old.”

“Ah. Of course,” you said, smiling awkwardly at the girl. Joel’s kind of, sort of daughter. You were closer to her than Joel in age. You rolled the memorial plan tighter and tighter, your hands needing to be occupied with something as your mind reeled at the inappropriateness of your desires.

“I’ll make sure I don’t wake him up,” you said before leaving the girl to return to her group of friends.

He was old enough to be your father. It should disgust you, scare you. Maybe it would’ve if you’d had an actual father in your life. A point of reference to know how vile a man of that age would have to be to want a girl your age. You tried to force some disgust into your veins, hoping that would help in putting out the fire in you that threatened to consume you whole. But it was hard to convince yourself that this was wrong when he’d made you feel so good.

Your fingers had become inadequate overnight. If his fingers were so powerful over you… You shuddered to think what he could do for you with his penis. It had to feel better. The organ was made for it, unlike fingers.

You stopped outside his door and knocked without giving it a single thought. If you’d thought about it, you would’ve fled. It had already taken you hours to muster up the courage to make the walk to his house with the draft sketches for the memorial. You wouldn’t let your desperation ruin it.

He looked surprised to see you, mouth opening and closing as though he’d forgotten how to process language. His dark brown curls and the silver that decorated it sat messily atop his head. Like he’d run his fingers through it. An old t-shirt stretched over his chest and struggled against his arms. A pair of dark sweatpants sat on his hips, the drawstrings hanging in the front.

“Hey? Uh…what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing a hand up to his face and scratching his beard. Why was that hot? You had to be out of your fucking mind.

You cleared your throat and looked up into his eyes. “Does something have to be wrong?”

“You’ve never come here, so I thought…”

“I’m here about the memorial plans. I have a few designs I want to run by you,” you said, holding up the rolled up sheets of paper.

“Ah. That. Sure, uh come in,” he said, opening the door and stepping aside to allow you passage. You looked around his house, careful to seem disinterested so he didn’t have more reasons to think you were a stupid little girl pining after him just because he made you come once.

Shit. He probably already thought that.

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me.”

You swallowed at the reminder as he led you to the dining table and offered you a seat. You looked around while he cleared the table. Plates, tools, some worn out novels. So he was the messy sort. You didn’t know who you would be if you’d had the chance to just be. You didn’t know if you would leave things lying around like that if you’d had a normal start to life. Like Joel. Like the others who were old enough to remember life before the cordyceps.

The place didn’t scream Joel Miller. There were no personal artifacts decorating his living room. No framed art. No books. No throw pillows or even a blanket on the couch.

You knew what it was like to have nothing in your house. When you were still new to the town and it hadn’t hit you yet that you were allowed to have your own things. Collect stuff and not worry about having too many things to carry with you when you had to run. You didn’t own anything you couldn’t fit into your backpack. And you took that backpack everywhere when you managed to step outside your new house.

But over time, you’d decorated your house. People you helped out at the clinic often gave you things as a token of their gratitude. Kids drew pictures for you. A lady once gave you the art off her wall that the previous owner had put up. Tommy and Maria gave you a new sweater that she’d knit when she was pregnant. New yarn from new wool from the town’s sheep. The first time you ever got something truly new.

“No decorations, huh?”

“What?”

“You don’t have any decorations here,” you pointed out again and licked your lips nervously.

“Uh, yeah. Not really the priority. Have’ta trade wisely. Can’t be gettin’ pictures when ya need bread.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “But you don't have to trade for it, you know? You could put up something of what’s in the house already. Surely the previous owners left some stuff.”

“They did. Traded ‘em all for things we need. Fresh fruits, bullets, that kinda shit.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be framed art. You could cut up a nice picture from a magazine or something.”

Joel looked up from the plans, head tilted and an eyebrow raised. Shit! Of course he thought you were talking about your magazines with the naked women.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you said, your voice coming out squeaky. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and looked down at the plans.

“Let’s discuss the plans,” he said, his voice all gruff and his tone so stern.

“I-I- uh… May I use your restroom?” you asked, unable to look him in the eye after what you’d said. After how he’d reacted. You really didn’t mean it like that. But you could see why that would be hard to believe when the last time he saw you, you had a box full of those men’s entertainment magazines on your bed and one open in front of you as you touched yourself.

Touched yourself and moaned his name.

“Upstairs, second door to the left.”

You squeaked out a thanks before you bolted out of his dining room and made your way up the stairs. There were two bathrooms. One decorated with band posters and a poster of a girl with weirdly cut black hair sitting on a motorcycle. Had to be Ellie’s. The second door to the left was another bathroom. Joel’s, apparently. There was just one bar of soap, a toothbrush, and a pot of toothpaste. No shampoo bar. You pulled the toilet seat and lid down before taking a seat.

You let out a groan and planted your face in your hands. Why the hell did you have to go and make it awkward like it wasn’t already that way. After he made you come that day, he’d refused to be anywhere near you. You hoped it was just coincidence, but after over a week it became undeniable that he was avoiding you.

He probably thought you were going to catch feelings. A girl in one of the romance novels you read fell in love with a guy who took her virginity. And there was the time you overheard this guy talking about not wanting to sleep with a girl because she was a virgin. He was afraid she would catch feelings and get clingy.

Now here you were in his bathroom because you thought it was wise to make small talk and ended up insinuating he should put up dirty pictures on his wall. You could scream. But you wouldn’t. There was already enough awkwardness with him.

You could always jump out of the window and run off to your house. Never speak of this again. Pretend nothing happened if Joel tried to talk to you about it. But something told you that he wouldn’t. He would probably be happy if he never had to interact with you again. You had been acting desperate. He caught you touching yourself moaning his name, for fuck’s sake!

Your hands, permanently dry from all the times you scrubbed them clean for your patients, found some moisture from your salty tears. It was embarrassing, sitting in the bathroom of a guy who wanted nothing to do with you after you scared him off with your stupid little infatuation.

You were a grown woman. Still young, but too old to be acting like this. You should have some experience already. Not sniffling over a man more than twice your age. He was right. He had been a grown man with experience longer than you’d been alive. Of course he wanted nothing to do with you.

The window looked more and more attractive as the seconds passed. It had been a while since you did something like that. You didn’t need to jump out of buildings or trees anymore. You didn’t go on patrols like some residents. With no need to fight for your life and having all the food you could need to never go hungry even once, you’d become a little unfit. If you broke a bone jumping out of Joel’s bathroom window, there would be questions. And everyone would know. You’d have to avoid the whole town instead of just Joel.

You’d just have to face it. Even if facing it was doing as little as just bidding him goodbye and bolting out of his house without an explanation. You got off his toilet and pressed the flush just so he didn’t think you were weird. Like it fucking mattered. He already found you weird and desperate.

You washed your hands, letting the water wash away the tears on your hands before wiping your wet hands over your face in an attempt to remove traces of your crying.

You should’ve just left after that. Not looked around. Not snooped like a creep. You didn’t ever dig. You didn’t have to look too deep to catch it. But a sliver of white peeked out through the netted walls of the laundry hamper. A sliver of white cotton with a light blue stitch.

Without second thought, you dug into his dirty laundry. You came up with the white cotton fabric, going straight to the gusset where the blue thread stitched the fabric pieces together. The original stitch had given out and you sewed it back together just some time back. The blue thread was all that you had at the time.

As though the sight of your panties in Joel’s bathroom wasn’t jarring enough, next came the smell. Of you. Your cum. You felt practically hear your own heartbeats as you recalled how he’d cleaned you up with your own panties. You recalled that he stuffed the fabric in his pocket as you lied on your bed, pussy still pulsating from his handiwork, brain melted, and life changed forever.

You took another whiff of your panties, goosebumps raising the hairs on your body as you felt it. Your cum and something else. It was still damp.

Blood rushed back up to your face and you felt yourself getting tense.

This fucker. How dare he? You’d been embarrassed just a minute ago over your desires and he was doing this the whole time? Noticing you on the streets and running away for days. Running back to his home where he kept your fucking panties, apparently. Avoiding you for so long only to cum in your panties.

So he wanted you.

If not you, he at least wanted sex. Dirrty old man who liked attention from you, but you weren’t even disgusted. Just angry he was pretending to be better than that. He could’ve used any old rag, but he used your panties.

You brought your defiled panties back up and smelled them again. Strangely, it smelled something like bleach. Or you could be wrong. You’d never… You didn’t know what a man’s release was supposed to smell like. Was it different for each man or did they all smell the same?

Wetness pooled in your panties as you imagined him touching himself. Large rough hand wrapped around himself. Did he think of you when he did it? Think of you naked in your bedroom and taking his fingers? What did his penis look like? What would it feel like? Soft? Rough? You’d wondered about having one inside you, but never about a particular man’s anatomy. But this was Joel. Joel was the only one who’d gotten this far in your head.

He couldn’t deny it to you anymore. If nothing else, you could at least call him out for ignoring you when he was wiping his ejaculate off with your stolen panties.

“Joel!” you called out before your fears could talk you out of confronting him. Unsure if he would’ve heard you, you opened the bathroom door and yelled his name out again. “Joel!”

“What?”

“Come up here!”

“What happened?”

“Just come here.”

You heard him sigh, the sound followed by the typical grunts and groans he made when standing up. Fuckin’ old man, ruining your life. Ruining your self-confidence. Ruining your fucking panties. His heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs as he climbed up, the sound getting louder as he got closer to the bathroom.

“Why were you screaming my name like y–” he stopped mid scold, frozen in place by the door as he saw what you had in your hand. He opened and closed his mouth, as though attempting to explain but deciding otherwise. He licked his lips and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

“Do you not have rags, Joel?” you taunted, taking a step towards him and enjoying seeing him step back. You felt powerful, moving a large man with just your voice. It was very unlike how he made you feel all the days he ignored you. Weak, insignificant, undesirable.

“You weren’t meant to– Fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Which part are you apologizing for? For breaking into my house and touching me? For ignoring me ever since? For stealing my underwear? Or for doing whatever you did with it?”

You moved him out of the bathroom, making him walk backwards in the hallway you hoped led to his bedroom. Even if it didn’t, you’d be fine. You’d exact revenge in any place you can. As long as you got to make him feel the way he made you feel. Pleasure. Shame. Want.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve—”

You took your last step towards him, finally trapping him against a wall. You stood close enough to place your hand on his chest. You licked your lips, the rock hard muscles beneath your touch storing itself away in your mind for later use.

“Imagine what would happen if I told someone? You sister-in-law, perhaps… She hates you, doesn’t she?” You smirked, though you were screaming on the inside. You didn’t know where you got all this courage from. You didn’t know you had it in you to threaten a man as imposing as Joel.

He turned pale, his hands up against the wall in surrender. If you’d asked him, he wouldn’t tell you the truth that it was to keep himself from touching you. “Please don’t tell anyone. I won’t do this again, I swear.”

“Maybe I want you to do this again…”

“You don’t. Trust me.”

“Shh!” You said, placing your index finger on his lips. Pink, perfectly shaped, and so damn kissable. “Don’t tell me what I want. You ignored me ever since you walked into my house without my permission and shoved your fingers inside me. I was walking around town believing I wasn’t good enough for big old Joel Miller. What did you say? That you’ve been experiencing longer than I’ve been alive?”

You raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t answer. Then he nodded reluctantly.

“Why were you coming in my panties then if I didn't measure up? ”

“I won’t do it ag—” he groaned when you grabbed his cock through his pants. He let out a low grunt and his Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck as he swallowed. You replaced your index finger with your thumb, tracing his trembling lips as you lazily stroked his cock with your other thumb.

He filled your whole hand and there was still more. It took everything in you to not moan at the sheer size of him. To not grind your belly against it to feel it against you. You didn’t know how big it was supposed to be, but the romance novels you read always described the big ones as more desirable.

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I asked why. Why did you steal my panties, Joel Miller?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you come on it? Don’t fucking lie to me cause I can fucking smell you on it.”

“I did. I jerked off with it.” You had to choke back a moan at that. No, you had to be strong. Show him you could take the upper hand just like he did with you. You weren’t a little girl with a crush. You were a woman and you could have this effect on a grown man. You refused to be discounted with a pat on your pussy no matter how much you wanted him to touch you like that again.

“Mmm. And that’s enough to get you going. Just a pair of my panties.”

“Mhmm.”

“Show me how you did it.”

“What?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

“Show. Me. How you did it.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, his hand coming up to stroke the base of his neck. “Wh-What?”

You felt your heart thud against your ribs and if you didn’t know from experience and your textbooks, you’d have been afraid that he could hear it. You’d never done anything so daring. You were the timid girl when it came to this stuff. That the thought even occurred to you was a testament to how much you desired Joel. Not just to sleep with any guy, but to have Joel. Without a word, you reached under the skirt of your dress and tugged your panties down.

He inhaled sharply as you bent down and came back up with your panties. Undyed white fabric, a little green ribbon in the shape of a bow stitched to the front, gusset a light gray from your wetness.

“Show me. I want to see what you were doing in your bathroom with my panties after ignoring me everyday,” you said, taking his hand and forcing the fabric into it. His hand curled around it and you found yourself feeling lighter. You didn't know how long you could keep up the brave front if he continued to have no response.

“Take your clothes off.”

It was like something changed the moment you gave him the garment. His eyes were on you, his gaze unrelenting. He took a step ahead and you stepped backward. His lips curled up in a smirk. It seemed playtime was over… Like a lion letting the cubs play at predation before taking over to show how hunting was really done.

You didn’t know if you were ready for that… Sure it was nothing he’d never seen before, but it was different. The last time, you didn’t do it with the intention to have him see you. He just happened to see you bare and you didn’t cover up when you realized.

“I don’t have a box full of dirty magazines. I need to see somethin’,” he said, his eyes going down your frame like they had every right to be there. “Or you could leave these,” he said, holding your panties up in front of your eyes, “and run back home. What d’ya say?”

You swallowed, your hands shaking as you reached behind to find the zipper of your dress. You weren’t going to run off. Not when you’d been desperate for so long to do something, anything with him. Cold air kissed your back as you pulled the zipper down and the hairs on your body stood up in full attention. You pushed the sleeves off your shoulder and shimmied out of the dress, standing in just your dress in front of him.

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He looked you up and down. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down. He radiated superiority, putting you in some kind of a daze. “Your bra too. Show me your tits.”

The crudeness had more wetness pooling between your legs. You nodded wordlessly, afraid that pathetic whimpers would be the only sound you’d make under his gaze. You reached behind and felt around for the clasp of your bra. With his eyes piercing into you, you failed to find it quickly like you usually did. Your mouth dried up, your tongue sticking to the roof.

He made no effort to help. A mocking smile assumed its place on his lips as he watched you struggle in front of him.

When you finally managed your task and stood fully naked, he stood up straight. His tongue darted out and licked his lips. You felt like a piece of meat placed in front of a starving man. Just seconds ago, you were telling yourself you didn’t need his approval, that this would just be revenge. But as he evaluated your body, your pussy wept with the need for your body to be nothing but what he liked.

“Room’s that way.” He nodded in the direction of the room. You turned around and took small steps, your shoulders curling inward and your head bowed in submission. Every inch of your skin burned with the strength of his gaze.

“Kneel.”

You placed your knee on his bed, ready to climb up.

“On the floor.”

One knee still on his white sheets, you turned around to look at him. He was so large. Imposing. The kind of figure you would follow without question. So, you did.

“You look pretty on your knees.”

He took a few steps towards you, stopping when the distance had your neck straightening to look up at him. Large, powerful, imposing. Another step and you were face-to-face with his crotch. His bulge was right there.

“Go on, take it out. Since you wanted it so bad.”

Joel didn’t think you would do it. You looked even smaller kneeling at his feet. Meek little thing. He didn’t at all expect you to taunt him the way you did. Especially after you threatened to tell on him to Maria. He fully expected you to start crying. Guess he really underestimated you. Virgin didn’t necessarily mean innocent.

Yet you folded as soon as he took the reins. He saw the change in you right when he told you to take your clothes off. When your eyes went from determined to defeated. All that spunk evaporated to reveal the little girl underneath. He liked it like that. Made him feel like a real man. Not that there was any scarcity of masculinity in his life of taking out clickers and defending this town. But somethin’ about a beautiful woman accepting his authority did the trick faster than every other display of masculinity.

Your hands fiddled with his belt, trembling as you tried to take it off. He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. “Just undo the zip.”

No way he was going to get naked in front of a pretty little twenty something. It wasn’t anything great to look at even before he began a life of violence and traversing the wilderness. Sure he was well built from all the hard physical labor and constant fight for survival. It’d left several unappealing scars on his person. Time had done a number on him too. Especially his pudgy belly. It didn’t help that food flowed free in Jackson, fattening him up a little.

Thankfully, you listened. You looked up, as though you expected him to complete the task for him. He challenged you with a look. Wanna be a big girl so bad, act like one.

You reached inside his pants and took his cock out. Your lips parted and he heard you inhale through your mouth. His cock hung in front of him, hard from your teasing. He had to give it to you, you were daring for a meek little thing. No one in town would believe him if he told them all that you’d done. And he suspected he didn’t even know the half of it.

“Not too late to back out, you know?” he said, wrapping his hand around himself. It took everything in him to give you an out. As much as he wanted to grab your face, force your mouth open and make you gag around him, he was man enough to let you know you didn’t have to do anything. Young girl probably bit more than you could swallow. And seeing his cock and your mouth so close by showed that he was definitely nothing you could swallow.

“I’m not backing out.”

“First time seeing one?”

“Of course not. I work at the clinic. You think I haven’t seen a penis?”

“No anatomical terms. I ain’t your patient. Go on, touch my cock.”

You reached up for him, but he stepped back, delighting himself in the disappointment on your face. “Come on, you want a man so bad, work for it.”

You moved to stand up. “Did I say you could stand up?”

“No.”

“Then get back on your fucking knees.”

You dropped to your knees and he groaned in satisfaction. The euphoria of wielding power over someone rushed through his veins. And he wanted more. It was the same sick satisfaction he got when he beat men to death. When he broke bones and dressed animals he hunted in the wild. “Good girl. You’re going to listen to what I say. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Fuck! That fucking word again.

“Come on, come get it. Hands and knees. Crawl to me.”

He beckoned you forward with one hand, his other still on his cock. You bent over and god fucking damnit, you were a vision. You were an eager girl and he could see what you could become in the right hands. His hands. The things he could show you… Introduce you to your own body. Bring you pain and pleasure that were indistinguishable.

Your tits hung from your chest, swaying as you crawled towards him. Feverish, bright eyes followed him as he continued to refuse what you wanted. Too fucking late. He warned you. Told you men like him weren’t for pretty little things like you. But you didn’t fucking want to listen. Now you’d have to deal with the consequences. Maybe you’d stay away then.

“Please, Sir,” you whined so prettily he almost gave in.

“What are you begging for?”

“You. Y-your penis.”

“My cock,” he corrected. “Say it.”

“Your cock, Sir.”

“Good girl. C’mere,” he said, giving you a nod to come closer. You crawled to him and when he didn’t back away, sat up on your knees. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and gripped your hair, making you hiss. Holding you in place, he brought his cock to your face. You looked up at it, your eyes widening and your mouth slackening. You brought your hand up and touched his tip with just your thumb. The rest of your hand followed, wrapping around him. He gasped silently as you stroked his slit with your thumb, making him leak precum on you.

“Did…? Did you?”

“No. Gotta do more ‘n that to make me come. That’s precum.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t think you knew what precum was. Probably not the focus of your education here. Not the most important thing when townsfolk came in injured after patrols or suffering from a fever that was life threatening without the medicines of the past.

He pressed his cock against your cheek. The sight presented a visual of how you’d struggle if you took him in your mouth. He’d have you choking on him before you even took half. He twitched against your face at the mere thought. You were the picture of innocence, even with his cock on your face. Even with the stunt you pulled before he put you back in your place.

“Think I’ll just do this. Fuck your pretty face.”

You whimpered, spurring him on. He wanted to force himself inside you, punish your mouth for having the gall to speak to him the way you did. Make you cry from how full of him you were. Give you a sore throat so when you spoke to him again, you’d remember to speak with respect. But you wouldn’t be able to handle it. So he’d settle for defiling your sweet features, hold his cock against your cheek and rut like the animal he was.

“I ain’t gonna lay you out on my bed and take you nice and slow. I’m just gonna use you. ‘s what men like me do.”

He pulled away, giving you another opportunity to rethink this. “You can put your fucking clothes on and leave if you don’t like it.”

To his surprise, you stayed put on your knees. You shook your head before reaching up and rubbing your cheek against his cock. You let out a soft moan, eyes closed and your thighs pressed together tight. “No, no. I like it.”

“Fuckin’ slut,” he said, his hand back in your hair. He tugged at it and took his cock in his other hand. He tapped your lips with his tip, smearing the precum that leaked out of him. “You like an older man using your face like it’s a pussy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He snorted, amused. “Never met a virgin slut before. Getting your face fucked before your pussy. Bet you’re wet from this.”

There was the sweet little whimper from you again. He wanted to hear more of it. Trap you underneath him and make you weep and cry and whimper as he split you in half.

“Let me see. Touch your pussy, show me your slick.”

You obeyed, spread your knees and touched yourself. Your hand glistened under the light of his bedroom, your wetness stretching between your fingers in strings. “Goddamn, would you look at that…” he said in a low rumble. “Rub it on my cock.”

Your hand trembled slightly and you stared at him with a blank look in your eyes. He guided your hand to his cock, withdrawing his hand when he’d brought you close enough so you could decide whether you wanted to follow his command. You touched your slickened hand to his cock, covering him in the evidence that you wanted this. Wanted him. You reached between your legs and brought more of yourself, eyes soft yet glazed with lust as you smeared yourself all over his length.

“Ask me for it.”

“Please,” you whined.

“Please, what?”

“P-please fuck my face. Sir.”

He returned his cock to your cheek, your wetness lubricating your face. Hand cradling his cock, he began to thrust. It wasnt much different from fucking his own fist. It was just skin. Not the tight velvety wetness of a pussy or a throat that would gag with his thickness. But your face was softer than his gun callused hands. Even better was your pretty face, looking up at him so adoringly… So full of desire.

He didn’t have to let his imagination do the trick now. Not when you were right in front of him, lending yourself for his use. And no imagination, no memory did justice to you. Your body. Scarred, but beautiful. Tits that filled his large hands, clean and styled hair, a belly that showed you were well fed. He wanted to lay you out on his bed and consume you. Take your tits in his mouth, grab handfuls of your ass, spread your cunt lips and lodge himself inside you. Give it to you hard so your thigh jiggled and you felt them ache as they rubbed against each other when you walked around in your pretty little dresses.

But as depraved as he was, he knew he shouldn’t be the first to take you. He’d have you just this once. Store your image in his head to get off with for as long as his dick worked. You acted all brave, but he couldn’t shake off that you were still inexperienced. The first time was meant to be good. The world was no longer normal, but you could have normality within the insular walls of Jackson.

Even this was wrong. Using you like this instead of making sweet love to you. But he hadn’t been that man in a long time. He was selfish and cruel. If there was no town, no community where everyone knew everyone and you still threw yourself at him, he would’ve taken you in all your holes with no hesitation. Ruined you, kept you until your body wasn’t of use and tossed you aside. But being in this semi-normal place had gotten its claws into him. Softened him up.

He grew closer to the edge embarrassingly quickly, the haze of carnal pleasure beginning to muffle the voices screaming in his head to let you go. He only barely noticed that you were touching yourself. Enjoying this treatment of you. That spurred him on. There was no stopping now.

You let out soft moans, your eyes never once leaving him. He struggled to get himself to focus. To check for any signs you didn’t want this. But all he saw was you on the precipice of pleasure. The world disappeared. His house, Jackson, the darkness that lay beyond. It was all him now. He felt lighter, like he would float out through the window and everything he’d ever been through would disappear. Every ounce of goodness quietened down, the last shreds of his morality discarded with your dress. He grunted and moaned your name as he kept fucking you. Your features morphed into nothingness. No longer a face, no longer a human woman. All he knew was the ache in his body, the tightness that begged to be released.

He slapped a hand against the wall as his thighs stiffened and every muscle in the vicinity of his cock tightened. He took himself back in his hand and stroked himself over your face. Once, twice, and thr– mid stroke, he growled and spilled on your face, coating your innocent features in sticky white cum. You flinched as the first stream hit, screwing your eyes shut. He wanted to make you look, see how he could defile you, show you that he wasn’t for you. Force you to confront what you’d allowed into your life so you’d run and never look back.

But all he could do was keep stroking as he came down from his high. It was unlike anything he’d had in the recent past. Not his imagination, not just his hand. A real human woman who wasn’t just a convenience. One who sought him out, stripped for him, and let him use her face like a toy.

He took a minute to collect his breath and let his senses return to him. His cock hung semi-hard outta his jeans, like it could go again if he willed it. Like it wasn’t almost six decades old. But he wasn’t too surprised. He could go again for the utterly debauched girl in front of him. Innocence eclipsed by milky white ropes of his cum. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hair and pulled at it. You yelped, but let him pull you up from the ground and drag you to the other side of the room.

He stopped you in front of his mirror, and slapped your hand off your pussy before replacing it with his. “Look at yourself. I fucking told you,” he said, forcing two thick fingers inside your cunt. You sucked him in with little resistance, your cunt leaking enough for him to force a third finger inside you. You gasped and tried to wriggle away, but he wasn’t having it. He was a fucking monster, but he would never leave a woman unsatisfied. Especially a young thing who’d never had anyone else before.

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, his half hard cock begging him to go again when he felt the vibrations of your moans. “I warned you,” he whispered into your ear. “Fuckin’ warned you. Told you how starved I was. And you still taunted me. Look at you now!”

“Please… Please, Joel! Sir, please…”

“Fuckin’ slut. Maybe you ain’t really a virgin.”

“I am, I am, I promise. I wa–” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he pressed his thumb on your clit.

“What was that?”

You made some incoherent noises, too far gone to form words. Yet you managed to thrust onto his fingers and roll your hips like a real natural.

“Joel…”

“I know, pretty girl… I know,” he cooed, the softness in his voice contradicting how he’d used you just minutes prior. Contradicting the cum on your pretty little face.

“You gonna come for me? Give me another one after you came so sweetly on my fingers that day?”

There were no answers from you. Not even an acknowledgement that you heard him. Just whines and moans as you let him support your entire weight. Your head lolled back on his shoulder and your eyes rolled back into your skull as he fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Oh the things he could do with his cock… Reach deeper, take the virginity you’d held on to for so long. If he ever had you, he would never let go. He was too selfish a man to willingly lose a girl so precious after taking her cunt.

You gripped him like a vice, so tight he couldn't pry his fingers out. Something that vaguely sounded like his name spilled from your lips as you crumpled in his arms. Your pussy pulsated around you as he held you against him, unwilling to remove himself from you so quickly.

He withdrew your panties from his pocket– the fresh pair you took off in his fucking hallways like it was no big deal. He wiped your face with it the same way he cleaned up your cunt that day. Instead of tucking it in his pocket, he forced it into your hand.

“Put it on. Your fucking dress, too. Hope you learned you fucking lesson.”

As you put it on and scampered away naked into his hallways, he hoped it would be enough to scare you away. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he would always crave you like an addict craving a drink.

⌘

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month

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Imagine Megumi blushing because yuji and nobara along with gojo are teasing him about you...(The refrence when he pulled his uniform a bit to hide is blush in that ep pls he was looking so cute I just wanna squish him)

„Bye (y/n).“

„Please look out for yourself.”

His tender touch doesn’t leave you as well as his intense gaze. You are on your way to an important mission along with Toge, so ready to finally go out without having Gojo or multiple other comrades around you. This is your time to finally prove yourself, to show them what you can.

But oh, that look on Megumi’s face makes it so hard to leave.

“I will”, you reassure him with a gentle smile.

“Make sure to message me as soon as this mission is over. And if it’s getting too dangerous, call Gojo-sensei.”

“Megumi”, you chuckle, squeezing both of his hands tightly.

“I promise everything will go well. After all, I’m out with Toge.”

“Salmon!”

“I really need to get going now. See y’all.”

With one last glance behind you, you are gone. Hopefully everything goes well. If that curse bruises you…

“Now what do we have here? How did I miss you two lovebirds?”

The stinging voice of his sensei rips Megumi out of his daydreams immediately. Did Gojo…Did he mean him and you?

“What are you talking about?”, Megumi mumbles.

“What he’s talking about? That you’re head over heels for (y/n), dumbass”, Nobara interjects out of pure frustration.

“And I think she’s totally into you as well. Even though I’m not that good when it comes to that stuff…”, Yuji adds.

“Just imagine how their kids will look.”

“Eww, hopefully they won’t have his grumpy face.”

“Don’t be so harsh on him, my dear students. To have kids, they have to-“

“SHUT UP RIGHT NOW!”, all three of them shout at once to stop Gojo from talking any further.

“Why can’t you stop talking? You’re embarrassing me”, Megumi mutters into the collar of his uniform.

He hates the way heats starts to creep up his face. There is nothing to get red about, nothing about their words is true…

Do you like him like that, though?

“Yuji…”

“Yeah, what is it?”, the pink-haired boy replies visibly confused.

“Do you…do you really think (y/n) likes me?”

“AWW, LOVEBIRDS!”, Nobara and Gojo cry out in sync, forcing another wave of redness straight into Megumi’s cheeks.

“Megumi is in loooove, Megumi is in looooove, Megumi-“

“Stop it-“

“Megumi is in loooove, Megumi is in looooove, Megumi is in-“

“Who are you in love with, Megumi?”, your innocent voice questions from afar.

“(Y/N)!”

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swxxtsxcchxrine · 11 months

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Love that everyone agrees that Miguel is a munch and pussy whipped!! But I don’t think enough people talk about him liking when you squirt! He loves when he’s soo deep, feeling you clench around him and you push at hit stomach as you lift your hips and gush all over him. Loves when you’re so overwhelmed and cumming that he bullies his cock back in. Looooves the tears streaming down your face and the chants of his name as he asks you to do it one more time!!!

Also not enough people know that men can squirt too if the tip is stimulated enough and I think Miguel being overstimmed and squirting would be so🤤.

GIRL WOW i immediately got butterflies when i read this your mind is just 🤯 but you are 110% right. no way men can squirt 😭😭 thats so crazy, ill defo use that in my next whatever these things are muahhh!

Miguel uses you squirting as a personal challenge to himself yk. at one point he makes it his goal to make you gush at least once every time ym have sex. you could say its his way on claiming you, because he knows he's the only one that can make you cum so hard. he's got you folded in half, his thick cock splitting your tight cunt, the line between pleasure and pain becoming blurred. your mind is mush and so are your insides. Miguel watches you as you mewl out his name. "you feel that, mama? that's me, that's all me..." he teases as he pushes on the bulge from your belly. a frothy ring of your cream rims his cock, as your gummy cunt oozes it's juices all over the sheets and drips all over his pelvis. fat tears slide down your hot cheeks while the fat tip of his dick hit the opening to your cervix. his large build easily overpowers you so he grabs the backs of your knees and brings them to your shoulders. you whined out loud pawing at his arms in an attempt to slow him down. "mphm, i'm gonna fuck a baby into you, pretty girl. fuck, you're gonna be such a good mama," he grunts. he can feel your hole clenching on him tight, basically milking his cock. he hisses before groaning as his roll back. "all round and swollen with our babies, fuck, i can't wait," his hips stutter for a moment before he finds his rhythm once more. his pelvis pounds into you harder than before, his dick going in deeper than before. "Miguel... t's too big...can't..." your hands run down his pecs, rubbing on his hard nipples. "awe, my poor baby doesn't know her potential," he coos. "yes you can, you can take it all f'me, yeah?" he smiles condescendingly. he is such a meanie. his sly hand reaches down to run tight circles on your clit. "Miguel!" you sob, your vision being blurred by stinging tears. your hands push and grab at his arms, his abdomen, anything you can grab as you gasp and squeal from the overwhelming pleasure. you try to run away from his dick and his fingers while chanting his name as a desperate plea, but he's faster and stronger than you. he holds your hips in place as the buck and tremble vigorously. your stomach flips and you suddenly feel like your about to pee as his cock hits your g spot every time. your slick pussy tightens around his dick as you gush around his fat dick. his cock pummels out from the force as his fingers play around with your clit, spraying your squirt everywhere. "there's a good girl," he says lifting your legs up and spreading your lips apart to watch your cunt clench around nothing. your pussy was sore and battered and you were completely worn, but he wasn't done with you. you squeal before trying to close your shaking legs from sensitivity but he holds them open by force. he rubs the tip of his angry cock through your folds, catching it on your clit as you shudder and move your hips away with a sob. "s'ok, mami. i know, i know. i'm gonna make you feel so good, yeah?" he whispers while slowing slipping his hard and pretty cock back into your gummy insides.

i need a man like miguel so bad, i like my men big, beefy and a lil mean. hes so so so so so so so hot. I wanna give this man the most tear jerking, fantastic, name yelling, toe curling, eye rolling, ass clenching, soul sucking, jaw locking, heart wrenching, leg cramping, award winning, sheet gripping, mouth drooling, sloppiest head ever, then i want him to dump his warm cum into my mouth, then he’s gonna flip me onto my hands and knees and eat me inside and out making my legs shake and shiver, and tremble before making me gush all over his pretty face before stuffing me with his long and thick cock, pounding me into the mattress, into oblivion, dumbing me down into nothing but a pretty pile of glitter, thrusting into me, hitting that same good spot and the spilling his hot seed into me making me gush all over his chest, his pelvis and abdomen. i'll be his little fountain. just for him. i want his children.🥺🥺

#smut #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x black reader #miguel x black reader smut #spidervere smut #spiderman smut #spiderman 2099

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nhlclover · 3 months

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sun to me | jamie drysdale

word count: 1.19k

summary: attempting long distance makes it clear to you and jamie that you need each other

warnings: loneliness, sad jamie, kissing, tiny bit of cursing

notes: loooove this one

Jamie was sprawled out on his bed in his cramped apartment in Philadelphia, staring blankly at the empty walls. He hadn’t decorated yet, let alone had the proper furniture. His bed was simply a mattress on the floor, his coffee table doubling as a kitchen table.

Jamie had been in Philly for about a month now. You’d think a month was enough to adjust to a new city, and while he had settled into a routine and gotten comfortable with all of the city’s quirks, something still felt off.

It was you. He missed you deeply. Your laughter, your presence, your comfort. You were his anchor. But you were tied to your job over 2,000 miles away in Anaheim. You guys had discussed this before he left, that 3 months wasn’t that long and you could withstand it. Then, at the season's end, you’d talk about your future together.

However, here you both were, on opposite sides of the country, distance putting a strain on the both of you.

Jamie did his normal pre-game routine with you on his mind. He thought of the fact that you were probably at work right now, wrapping up final tasks, before heading home and putting on the Flyers game. It was a miracle he found someone as supportive as you, willing to put up with the long days and stress that being a professional athlete could bring.

Each game he played knowing that when he got home he wouldn’t be coming home to you made them harder and harder. The facetimes and calls were not enough anymore and the strain on Jamie was starting to show in his gameplay. Today’s game was horrible. Jamie was benched for almost the entire third after he gave up 3 separate turnovers. Amidst the rowdy Philadelphia crowd, upset that their team was losing, his mind wandered to you. It was always you.

Jamie kept to himself while getting changed and showering, truly wanting to go home just to call you. After an unbearable 5 minutes with the media, Jamie trudged out of the locker room, shoulders slumped and spirits in the basement. Walking down the hall, Jamie feels an arm hook around his shoulders.

“Why the long face?” Cam asks.

Jamie shrugs off Cam's arm, his mind still reeling. "Just had a rough game, man. Ready to get out of here."

Cam flashes him a sly, knowing grin. “It’ll pick up soon, bud.” He says.

Jamie ignores his teammates' words, continuing down the halls of the Wells Fargo Centre. As he turned the bend, greeted by a myriad of voices, there you were.

Jamie could’ve sworn he was seeing things, maybe reaching a point of delusion. But there you were, standing with his teammates' girlfriends. Jamie’s heart lifted upon seeing you, the weight of a thousand worlds falling behind him as he headed straight for you. When he reached you, his arms enveloped you in a tight embrace.

The world around him fades away leaving only you two suspended in this moment. His touch is firm yet gentle, a silent declaration of his need for your presence, your comfort.

“Hi, James.” You say softly into his chest. Your delicate tone nearly sends Jamie over the edge, the reality of everything catching up to him, tears threatening to prick at his eyes.

“Hi, baby.” He says softly. You guys stay there for a few more moments before you force Jamie to walk to his car with you.

Deciding you had so much to talk about, Jamie drove you to a park to walk around while you guys spoke. You intertwined your fingers with Jamie's, drawing strength from the reassuring warmth of his touch. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the struggles you had endured during your time apart.

“So, what are you doing here?” Jamie asks, his grin having still not faded since first seeing you.

“I had to see you…” You tell him. “So I took two weeks off.”

“You did what?” Jamie asked.

“Jamie, I missed you so much, it was almost unbearable.” You confessed, your voice conveying the pain it had truly caused you. “With the time difference and our weird, conflicting schedules… I had to come and see you.”

Jamie's expression softened, his gaze filled with empathy as he listened to your words. He understood all too well the pain of separation, the relentless tug of loneliness that pulled at his heart with every passing day.

“Y/n, I missed you too. I’ve been fucking miserable.” Jamie said, a small chuckle escaping as he recounts the past couple of days. “It's like… no matter how many times we talk on the phone or text each other, it's never enough. I need you here with me, physically, emotionally… I just…”

Jamie suddenly stops walking, turning to face you.

“Marry me.”

The words were out of Jamie’s mouth before he knew it, the both of you sharing the same shocked reaction to his words. The unexpected proposal makes you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Despite them being blurted out, Jamie knew that they were real feelings.

“W-what?” You ask. It felt as though time stood still as you processed his words. Jamie takes both of your hands in his, his eyes glimmering.

“I’m serious. Marry me.” He says again. “These last couple of months have been…fucking hell on earth. I’ve been miserable. And for a while, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. At first, I thought it was the lack of sun… or maybe it was taking me a little longer than I thought to adjust to a new city. But it was you. I couldn’t bear not having you with me.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, jaw open slack as you were processing his words.

“I want you here in Philly, with me. And whatever it takes.” Jamie says. “You can get another job here, in Philly, I’m sure the guys of their wives have connections here and they could help. Or don’t work! I can support you, I don’t care. What I’m trying to say is-”

You cut off Jamie’s rambling, pressing your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. Your lips melded together, picking up as if you had never been separated. As you parted, a small smile graced your lips. Jamie’s eyes scanned your face, desperate to read what you were thinking.

"Yes," you said, your voice steady with resolve. "Yes, I will marry you. And yes, I will come live with you in Philadelphia. We can figure everything else out later.”

Jamie let out a huff of relief before scooping you up in his arms and spinning you above the ground. You squeal, your laughter ringing like a melody in Jamie’s ears.

“Oh my god, I have a wife!” Jamie cheered loudly.

He leans down pressing a kiss to your lips, holding you close once again. As you held each other close, the weight of loneliness lifted from Jamie's heart, replaced by the comforting certainty of your presence.

“I love you so much.” Jamie whispers against your lips.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #philadelphia flyers #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl #flyers hockey #hockey #hockey imagine

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simpjaes · 1 month

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i'm sorry this is just my intrusive thoughts speaking but what do you think about enha and shibari

hyung line + shibari [japanese rope bondage] there are images regarding what type of shibari position the members would want to use on you. [fem and male poses used but use ur imagination]

☆ jay:

likes when you sit nice and pretty for him. fixed posture, tits on display. though this is more of a position for him to look at rather than fuck you in, he has a lot of fun with it. probably learned how to do it because he saw you scroll a bit too quickly past the images of shibari on your phone. he likes the way your skin chubs and bulges out past the ropes at times because he does intentionally tie them too tight, and always loves to get head this way. or moreso, he likes to face fuck you and occasionally get his cock up against the ropes between your tits just to watch you stick your tongue out trying to reach the pre-cum dribbling out of him.

★ jake:

oh man, he loves using it on you and also loves when you use it on him. for this ask, im gonna include both. so, for you, this is what jake likes to see:

why? because he likes when your knees buckle and shake when he fucks your thighs. he likes pulling your head back by the hair just to see your back arch painfully with those cracked whines in your throat. looooves holding onto your hips and hitting it from the back. now for you to do it to him, he likes it to be more intimate and playful. tie him up like this and watch him beg:

jake will cry for you to free his hands, yanking and pulling the robes because he wants to touch so bad. he wants to hold your head as you slide his cock down his throat, wants to hold you while you bounce on him, but no. all he can do is feel what you do to him, giving it to him so good that he generally ends up crying because he can't hold you through it.

☆ sunghoon:

anything to look at your body in full with pretty bright ropes hugging it. he'd use shibari not to fuck you in but just to look at you like you're the prettiest doll he could ever own. for hours he'd have you stand for him while he does meaningless tasks. cleaning the house with you standing so pretty in the corner, working from home, cooking dinner, only to eventually carry you and place you in the bedroom, waiting for you to start crying when he spreads out on the bed and starts palming himself, dirty talking you with harsh and mocking words of "want me to untie you? wanna sit right on it, don't you?" and "just stand there and look pretty babe, it's what you're best at." until his cum is wasted, spurting out all over his chest and abs.

★ heeseung:

will always want you bound in a way where even eye contact is difficult to maintain. but he will force you to keep trying to look at him anyway. probably already knew how to tie the knots before he met you solely because it's something he's interested in. loves the act of being able to do anything he wants to you, loves being able to fuck any part of you, fucking adores the after math after untying you, with the rope burn and the pretty indents on your skin that they leave behind.

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #sim jaeyun smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen hard hours #ask #hardthots

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moonjxsung · 6 months

Note

Your opinion on who in StrayKids likes a bit more, Butt, Boobs or thighs and why. You can make it smutty as well 😉

If you have already can you link it? 😅

Have a good day! 🥰🧡

-🧡anon

Is this something anyone else thinks about as much as I do? I feel like I’m constantly going back and forth between my answers 🚶‍♀️ANYWAYS….

Chan: ass & boobs. Specifically likes when you ride him and he can either grip your thighs or grab your ass….. looooves when you wear short skirts he can just flip up for a quick fuck. And I KNOW I say it all the time….. but it’s like ten times more intensified with his daddy kink. Literally gripping your ass for dear life while you’re riding him and he’s forcing you to call him daddy. Also cums super fast if you wrap your legs around his crotch while you’re on top. Likes the idea of your cum dripping out of him onto your thighs and making a mess.

Minho: a little harder to read, but I want to say he’s an ass guy… he’s just not super obvious about it. He smacks everyone’s ass in a joking way but he won’t do it to you very much only because he doesn’t want you to think he’s being disrespectful. But when it comes to getting intimate, he loves taking you against a wall or a table and putting it in from behind. Loves intertwining his hands with yours and fucking you hard. And he’ll graze his hands along your ass and keep them there until he cums inside of you. Loves it to feel super primal but still respectful and gets turned on knowing you’re turned on.

Changbin: a traditional man… definitely boobs. He’s such a little shit constantly staring at your boobs while you’re talking and you have to remind him where your eyes are. But when it comes to intimacy he loves holding them while you’re riding him. Loves to watch them bounce and maybe take a video or two for his own personal use. Also very partial to lacy lingerie that’s practically see through so he can still get a good glimpse of your nipples & every curve. More casually he also won’t hesitate to get you in bed lying on top of him with your back faced to him and his hands on your boobs massaging them. Watches tv like that, uses his phone like that… just his favorite stress relievers.

Hyunjin: another tough one… gonna say boobs and thighs for him. Hyunjin gets super turned on any time you sit in his lap and literally winces at the feeling of your thighs grazing over his cock while you’re in just underwear or a short skirt. He really likes gripping your thighs and massaging them while you sit in his lap and then trailing up with his hands to where he can finger fuck you. But when you’re riding him, he gets veryyy subby and wants your nipples in his mouth like every waking second of it. Gets super whimpery and drools all over your boobs and sucks them like his life depends on it. Also very partial to leaving hickies on both your thighs and boobs. Just likes marking up his favorite places and making you all sore for him even if you’re just making out.

Jisung: thighs and ass!!!! Specifically when you ride his face! I feel like we’re all in mutual agreement that Jisung goes feral for you riding his face and just really loves to make you squirt on his pretty little face and clean you up like a starved animal. Loves the feeling of your thighs trembling over his tongue while he grips onto them for dear life. He also goes crazy to see you wearing long socks or hosiery and he wants your thighs on his face like instantly. And he’s crazy for your ass too in the most annoyingly cute way. Constantly squeezing, slapping, you name it and he’s doing it. Purposely passes by you and brushes his crotch against it and then likes to play all innocent like he wasn’t trying to cop a feel.

Felix: personality boobs. Someone submitted something yesterday about how Felix would looove having his face buried in your chest and I stand by this 10000%! He’s less sexual about it when he’s doing it regularly, just loves kissing them and massaging them with his skilled hands whenever he gets a chance. And he’s super polite about asking you to flash him or send a picture when he’s turned on. But when you guys are intimate, he’s allll over them with his tongue. I mean sucking, biting and licking them like they belong to him. Loves groaning with your nipples in his mouth while he fucks you and whispering about how much he loves them in his sexy deep voice. Of course after it’s done he’s back to gentle massages and randomly pulling up your shirt to kiss them. But he’s crazy for them either way.

Seungmin: ass guy for sure. But he’s not shy about it. Snacks your ass when you walk by, grips your ass when you bend over and won’t hesitate to ask to fuck you doggy style. He loves when you just wear one of his t-shirts and bend over and all he can see is your ass in your lacy panties. Will crack some joke about how you make it such easy access for him but you’re also not going to decline his proposal when he’s offering to fuck you roughly from behind. Also loves when you sit on his lap peppering his face in kisses and he can keep his hands on your ass. Such a sexy sight when he wears some expensive watch and gives you a little squeeze here and there, literally makes you horny all over again. Daddy Seungmin agenda perhaps…

Jeongin: hear me out on this one….. all 3. He’s just super into body worship and any one of the 3 get him turned on. You want to ride his face? He’s hard at the feeling of your thighs in his big hands. Doggy style? He loves to spank you with his big hands. Cowgirl?? Hands and tongue all over your boobs. Showers you in compliments about any one of the three because you guys have such high sex drives and every part of each other is a turn-on. And when you’re not intimate, he’s just the most loving boyfriend about it too because he’ll shower you with compliments anyway. Randomly tells you your thighs look good in a pair of old jeans, or that your boobs look particularly flattering in that shirt. Just worships every inch of you.

#skz smut #stray kids #skz #stray kids hard hours #🧡 anon #ask #skz scenarios

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commander-rahrah · 8 months

Text

Talking to the Moon

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~5000 (haha.. whoops) Warnings: slightly suggestive for a tiny moment but SFW, swearing, PTSD, trauma, past/implied abuse, fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

Summary: Set in early Act II. Reader/Tav's origin of their powers is revealed to the party and there is a negative reaction to it. Astarion attempts to comfort reader with his usual routine and provide a "distraction" but gets rejected. He begins to question their own reasoning and feelings, and realizing that he might be feeling something… different.

Note: This is still a GN!Reader/Tav in second perspective with no names or y/n. However, there is some backstory (noble background and a deity) and appearance descriptors (only freckles and hair colour) assigned to the reader/Tav. I really enjoy the dynamic of the moon/stars that I have with my own Tav named Olympia and Astarion and for this particular idea I wrote I felt the backstory was too important to leave out!

I am an avid D&D player and I loooove making OCs (its a problem I have like 30) but this particular backstory and character that this is based off of is very dear to me, so I really hope your enjoy!

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

You were all gathered on the grounds just outside of the Last Light Inn, heading back inside the main doors with Jaheira and Isobel. The safe haven protected from the forces of the Absolute — thanks to you and your companions quick action. The remaining Tieflings and the other inhabitants of the inn still shaken from the sudden attack, but resting safely inside. “I’m thankful you were all here to stop the attack.” The cleric of Selûne said softly.

Isobel then looked over her shoulder at you, stopping for a moment as she looked you over from head to toe. “And you... I recognize my goddess’s powers within you — but they are so different from mine. Your magic is not born out of devotion for her.”

“What is she talking about?” Shadowheart asked from your side, whipping her head to you so fast her black braid flung out behind her.

You swallowed. You had been dreading this conversation. Fearing the moment it came out. “Yes, I, uh—,” You stumbled over your words, your tongue suddenly heavy in your mouth. “I was blessed by Selûne as a babe.”

Isobel raised her eyebrows, her lips stretching into a slight smile. “A blessing indeed. A drop of Selûne's own powers lives within you. You use it well.”

You bowed your head, your cheeks flushing a bright shade. Embarrassment and chagrin flooding you as every single member of your party turned to face you — varying reactions on all of them.

You eyes were still on your boots as both Isobel and Jaheira bid you a goodnight, telling you of your own rooms upstairs before disappearing amongst the many doors of the inn. The rest of your party quiet — not even Astarion had opened his mouth to fill the silence with a comment or joke.

The voice who broke it was the one you had dreaded the most. Shadowheart’s voice was a harsh whisper, but it still cut you deeply. “I cannot believe you. You’ve been lying to me this whole time!”

You winced, your teeth biting into your cheek, “I wasn’t lying. I just… didn’t tell you.”

“You just didn’t tell me that you are blessed with divine magic from my goddess’ enemy.” The dark-haired cleric scoffed, her nose crinkling so much that the scar across her face shrank considerably.

You thought of all the nights around the campfire sharing soft laughs, the early mornings that you helped braid her hair. This was why you had been avoiding it. You didn't want to lose that. Shadowheart had become a friend, an ally. “I didn’t want to ruin anything, we’ve grown so close and… it’s not like I worship her. I don’t say my prayers to her every night, I was just a babe—“

“Well I do!” She raised her voice, a few passing Harper’s stirring in shock at the outburst before shuffling away. “In Shar’s name. This is unbelievable — I’ve been mere feet away from you this whole time.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But you kept your devotion to Shar a secret and when it did come out all of us have been nothing but accepting.” Your eyebrows were furrowed together in worry. This was going exactly as you had dreaded. You’d hope your friendship would be something she would consider however…

“Alsoooo,” Astarion drawled, “The last time you had a disagreement with one of us, we woke up to you holding a knife to Lae'zel’s neck. Can you really blame them for not bringing it up?” He wagged his fingers at her, a single white brow raised.

Her nostrils flared as she flashed a look to the vampire, before turning back to you. “This is no disagreement. This is wrong, this is against everything my lady stands for."

“Shadowheart, please. You are my friend—“ You began to beg, but the cleric cut you off.

“No. Not anymore. We will continue to travel together to reach Moonrise Towers. We will get rid of these tadpoles and then we are done.” She spat.

“I—,” You choked, unable to think of what else to say. How else to defend yourself. You realized that Shadowheart’s mind was made up, no matter what you said right now.

“Shadowheart,” Astarion cut in again, stepping in front of you almost protectively. “Enough.” His voice a low growl.

Gale and Wyll stepped forward too, concern etched on their face. Karlach’s own features were torn — her eyes flitting between you and Shadowheart with immense worry. Lae'zel remained in the back, her muscular arms crossed over her chest as she observed silently.

The dark haired cleric shook her head, a loud breath escaping her before she stormed off up the stairs. Her armor and weapons clanking loudly as she stormed away.

“Princess, come on!” Karlach shouted after her, starting up the stairs. But she paused for a moment, stretching out to grab your elbow gently. “It’ll be alright giggles, ok? Don’t worry about it.”

You could only nod as you watched the Tiefling chase after her, both of them disappearing upstairs.

“Well, that was hard to watch.“ Wyll murmered, offering you a pained smile.

You waited for the sound of a door slamming above, before turning to head up the stairs yourself. You felt your throat tighten as you fought to keep your tears at bay. "Today was a lot. I think I’m just going to find my room now.” You barely waved goodbye as you took the worn steps two at a time, disappearing from your group without a backwards glance as a few tears broke free.

“Wait, do you need—“ Gale began to trail behind you, his brows knitted together and face pained.

“Let them be, Gale.” Astarion waved a hand to stop him pursing you up the stairs. “Let them drop the mask for a while. If you go barging in there right away, they will paint a smile on their face and act like everything is fine.”

A look of surprise crossed his face before the wizard let his shoulders slump, “You’re right.”

A sound of delight escaped the vampire, before he cupped his pale fingers around his pointed ear, “I beg your pardon, could you say that again? I didn’t hear you.”

Gale let out a large huff, before he admitted “I said you’re right. I’ll let them be.”

“Oooh, Gale. If you’re trying to woo me, at least buy me dinner first.” Astarion pretended to twirl his hair, before flashing him a wicked grin.

Gale pushed his face into a palm, letting out another exasperated sound. “Gods, save me.”

• • •

You were sat on the bed, your back pressed into the back of the headboard with your knees pressed to your chest. It had been a few hours before the tears had finally stopped, leaving you feeling even more exhausted and drained. You weren’t sure when the news of what lived inside you would come out — but it went exactly as you feared it had. The betrayal and anger on Shadowheart’s face was repeating over and over in your mind. The rest of your party had seemed accepting… but it was hard to tell what exactly they were thinking.

A sudden knock at your door had you scrambling to right yourself, wiping at your damp cheeks and eyes with the back of your hands. You fixed your shirt, and stretched out your legs to look as if you were just relaxing on the bed before letting out, “Come in.”

Your voice sounded much more meek than intended.

Astarion poked his head through the door, a strange combination of both hesitation and curiosity painted across his pale face. “Hello pet,” He purred, lingering in the door way for a moment.

“Astarion, hi.” You sat up a little straighter, surprised to see him. “Come in.”

He shut the door softly behind him, “Feeling any better? Or did Shadowheart come find you for an encore?”

You shook your head, “No, she’s stayed in her room — thank the gods. I don’t think I could handle another moment like that tonight.”

His eyes betrayed him for a moment, glancing to the floor, “Yes, well usually I would say it’s entertaining watching someone else’s drama unfold… but I didn’t enjoy that.”

He swayed over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Not close enough to touch, but you couldn’t help the small fluttering that erupted in your belly as he sat next to you. How casual it seemed, how easy it had become.

You shoved the thought away, instead scrunching your mouth up as you spoke, “I was avoiding it for a reason. I feel terrible... I shouldn't have hidden it for so long.”

“Well, if you were looking for a distraction…” He stretched his hand over to you and drew lazy circles on your knee before dragging it up to your thigh. “I can be of some assistance.” A seductive smile curved his lips, his eyes darkening.

Your expression crumbled as the crack you had just soothed in your chest starting to form again. “That’s all you see me as, isn’t it?”

“What?” He asked, his hand freezing on your leg.

“Sex. That’s the only way you see me.”

“I—“ His eyes widened with bewilderment, before he blinked at you. “I don’t— I mean.” He continued to stammer, his fanged mouth hanging open in genuine shock.

You let out a sad sigh, your eyebrows furrowing like you were in pain. You were. The ache in your chest was growing tenfold, the familiar feeling of your heart crawling up your throat returning. “I’m not in the mood Astarion. If you want to feed, do it and go.”

He instantly pulled his hand away at your rejection, clutching it to his chest with the other one. He didn’t give an apology, nor did he seem interested in your offer to feed. His red eyes were blinking animatedly, as if confused. Before he bowed his head and got off the bed quickly. Then the sound of the door clicking softly behind him an instant later.

You couldn’t hear his steps in the hall even if you wanted to — so instead you rolled over onto your side, curling your limbs into yourself as you screwed your face up once more and cried.

• • •

Astarion didn’t know what to think. What to do.

No one had ever rejected him before. This is what he did, this is what he was built for. To manipulate. To seduce.

To play the dazzling, charming distraction. He used to target the lonely, the distressed and upset… it made the hunt so much easier. And Cazador used to praise him for it — he said the miserable and desperate tasted so much better.

But you weren’t like those easy targets. You weren’t simple, and he should have known better. You were complex and contradictory — not something he appreciated in a target. But something he could appreciate in a fellow person. Things were becoming to muddled, too confusing.

Gods dammit, he had been so foolish. His entire plan could be falling apart now — you sitting up in your room alone mulling everything over.

But what really bothered him wasn’t the idea of his plan falling apart. That his protection from his old master could be gone by morning, leaving him behind to suffer the consequences.

No, what really bothered him, what he was really afraid of was how upset you’d been. That he was the cause of that.

Astarion's skin felt hot and crawling as he realized he had treated you as others had treated him all these years. Trying to use your desire as a way to override any other feeling. To seduce you into acquiescence, to fool you into thinking you needed only him. It disgusted him, what he’d done. Shame coursed through him and his fingers clenched onto his leather clad knee.

He was grateful for the little dark attic he had found above the barn — grateful to be away from the prying eyes of the rest of the party. He couldn't explain this to them, he wouldn't.

A splash of wet splashed onto the back of his hand and he realized he was crying. He'd forgotten he could do that. He'd stopped so many years ago, numbing and willing himself so that none would come. So that despite the pain or hurt he was feeling, his tears would not be there to give Cazador anymore satisfaction. His master didn't need anymore physical evidence of his anguish — his screams and blood and broken body was enough. He had stopped crying years ago. Until tonight.

Wiping his face, he took a steadying breath he knew he didn't need. And then again for good measure. He wasn't really sure what he was doing, but he stood up with a slightly trembling body. He needed to fix this. For you. For himself.

Before he knew it he was back outside of your door, his fist hovering just above the painted wood. His other hand was picking at the seam of the side of his leather pants nervously. His red eyes stared at the little tray of food he'd brought up for you — resting on the hallway table as he waited to see if you would even let him in. A peace offering he'd thought. A way to get his foot in the door before he could… explain. Apologize.

Chewing his lip, he finally let his knuckles rap on the door. He lingered for a moment, before opening it slightly. The small crack in the door angled enough to reveal you still laid in the bed, your back to the door as you were curled up on the mattress. Guilt flooded through him all over again.

“Gale, I told you I’m fine—"

He pushed the door open a little more, just enough so that is creaked to get your attention. He only poked his head through, enough for you to see his pale face as you strained your neck to look over your shoulder.

“Oh. It’s you.”

Astarion swallowed at the sound of your disappointment. It was not something he ever wished to hear again if he could. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he looked down, unable to look you in the eye, “Will you let me try again?”

“What?”

He finally looked up, his red eyes round and soft, “Let me try again.”

You gave him a hard to read look, before nodding curtly.

Astarion grabbed the door, not closing it fully but just enough that the lock bounced softly back. His pale knuckles knocked again gently, before he heard you let out an exasperated breath. “Come in.”

A sheepish, tight lipped smile spread across his face as he stepped fully into the room and looked at you. You were sitting up in the bed now, your arms crossed over yourself with an unimpressed look on your face. He used his foot to close the door quietly as he held his peace offering behind him.

“I won’t bother you, if you don’t want company. But I noticed you hadn’t eaten. I brought you dinner.” He pulled the tray out from behind his back, showing it to you.

“Oh.”

“And a glass of wine.” He placed everything carefully onto the nightstand, before backing away towards the door. “It’s disgusting.”

A soft laugh escaped you, “Thank you." You took a small sip of the wine, before twisting your face. “Ugh — you are right, that is disgusting.”

“I’m almost certain I saw those Tiefling children your so fond of mixing it themselves. Pray this is a part time gig and they don’t become bartenders in the future.”

The two of you let snickers out through your noses, before the room turned quiet again. “Thank you for bringing this up. I mean it.”

“You’re very welcome.” He shuffled his feet, unsure if that was a dismissal or not. But he also found himself not wanting to leave. His hands were behind his back, his own fingers intertwining and squeezing tightly. “I’m… I’m sorry for how you were treated today. It wasn’t fair.”

Your eyes flashed down, your brow crinkling. “It’s okay—“

Astarion shook his head profusely, “No, it’s not. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t owe any of us anything — not your story, or … or anything else. What you decide to tell us, what you trust us with... that is your choice.”

“Thank you. It’s not that I don’t trust you all, I do… I just.”

He cut you off gently, “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I know.” Your finger was playing with the rim of the wine glass in mesmerizing circles, over and over. “I do, trust you though.”

His red eyes lifted from your hands, to give you a quizzical look, “Now, why in the heavens would you do that?”

Your laugh was music to his ears. Full and bright. You shrugged, putting the glass back onto the nightstand — abandoning it and the dinner for another moment. “I just do.”

The vampire couldn't stop the purr that escaped his lips, “Hmmm, other members of our merry party would disapprove.”

“Probably. I think they disapprove of most of my interactions with you.” You said quietly, picking at the blanket you were sat upon.

The room filled with silence for a moment as you thought. “I was just a baby… when it happened. I was born ill — so weak and tired, it was almost like I was a dead. My parents threw all of their power and wealth at every scholar and healer they knew to try and cure me.”

Astarion’s eyebrows shot up as you spoke, joining you carefully on the bed. Much further then his previous visit. His hands settled onto his own lap as he listened.

“Nothing would work. And with every failed attempt, father become more and more distant. And mother became more and more desperate, hoping for any miracle she could find. She began to pray to any God that would listen, traveling to their shrines and statues. One night, my mother had fallen asleep crying while kneeling next to me. She said she awoke to a breeze and silver light — and the most beautiful woman she had ever seen was standing over us. Her hair was set in long silver waves, a flowing dress cascading over her curves, and a small smile on her lips as she watched the scene of mother and child. 'Selûne?' My mother asked, and the ethereal woman merely smiled again. 'I heard your prayers and felt your tears as if they were mine own. No mother should know the loss of their child.' As I slept, she touched my hair lightly, telling my mother I was pure and good-hearted. Selûne told her that she would help me, but that I would have a calling that would lead me away from my normal life of nobility and comfort. After my mother agreed, a white light shone through the Goddess’ hand, spreading into my hair, into my body and creating an aura around me. My hair turned silvery white, and star-like freckles began to shine all over my skin.” Your fingertips danced across your face, touching the skin that showed the blessing.

Astarion was gobsmacked, his eyes lingering over your silver hair and the freckles that dusted your nose and cheeks. His mind struggling to keep up with the information. “So, what Isobel said is true… a drop of Selûne's power lives in you?”

You nodded your head weakly, avoiding his stare.

“Gods… Why tell me this?”

You only offered a soft smile, “I wanted you to know.”

A thousand thoughts were running through his mind — most of them selfish. He'd prayed to the Gods every night for years, asking, begging, willing them to save him. To give him a swift death. Anything. And never received an answer back. But Selûne had for you.

But now that he knew you, he could think of no one else who would deserve it. He couldn't bare to think what the world would have been like if you had been taken away so early. Where he would be now if he hadn't met you on the cliffside after that damn ship. “Well, it seems that you truly are walking poetry, darling. Our little moon shining a light on all of us.”

He swore he saw you bottom lip tremble at the name.

"Let me tell the others, when I'm ready?" You asked quietly.

"Of course."

The room fell into silence again, but it was more comfortable then before. Astarion found himself lost in his thoughts — a confusing melody of haunting memories, and wishful thoughts.

“You never answered my question before.”

“Hmm?” Your voice had him blinking back to reality, turning his body to look over at you.

“About… how you see me.” Your eyes were big and vulnerable. They tugged at his heart, at the knot in his stomach that formed with the thought of you.

“Oh," Was all he could get out.

“I—I just,” Your voice was feint and nervous, your eyes studying the features of his face intently.

“Don’t ask now.” He blurted, his fingers clenching into a tight fist on his lap.

“What?”

“Give me time. Please.” He begged gently.

Your eyes softened, before you nodded in silent understanding. “I can do that.”

Relief flooded him, his fingers relaxing and shoulders drooping.

You seemed content on letting it drop, instead grabbing the plate of food next to you and balancing it on your knee. “Where is my roommate for the evening?” You asked, before taking a bite.

“Lae'zel? Oh she deemed the lodgings unacceptable and that she would rather die than join us soft-skinned weaklings in a room. She set up a tent out front in the dirt.”

You finished chewing, before grinning. “That… checks out.”

“So you get a luxurious evening alone. At least one of us does." He feigned a frown, before waving his hands dramatically, "I get to spend the night listening to Gale and Wyll snore.” He rolled his eyes before speaking again. "I will say charming Wyll did volunteer to sleep on the floor so I could have half the bed, bless him.”

“You could stay here if you want. To sleep, I mean.” You offered easily, pushing the food around your plate with the fork as you waited for him to reply.

He blinked again, caught off guard by your proposal. “Oh, that’s not necessary—“

“Astarion, really? You’ll share with Gale, but not with me?” You teased, a single eyebrow arching.

He stared at you for a moment, dumbfounded before nodding, “Alright. Eat your dinner. I’ll get my things.”

• • •

Slinking into his room, Astarion left out a sigh of relief as he realized it was empty. He needed a moment to ground himself and stop his spinning head. He had no idea what today would bring, but this whirlwind of a night was not at all what he had expected. He started grabbing his night clothes he had laid out on the bed in his shared room with Wyll and Gale, stuffing them into his rucksack.

But he bristled as he heard steps approaching, looking over his shoulder to see his two fellow male companions enter the room.

“Ahhh, they you are Astarion. We wondered where you scurried off too.” The wizard spoke, tucking the book he had in his hands into the crook of his arm instead.

“Oh, I found better company than the likes of you.” He shot back sarcastically — earning an eye roll from Gale.

“Did you now?” The warlock asked with eyebrows raised, before bending down to his own pack to untie his bedroll from it.

“Don’t bother with the bed roll tonight, Wyll. You’ll have to keep Gale warm tonight.”

"Where are you off too?" Gale asked, his brows furrowed.

Wyll studied him carefully, before offering a little smirk to the vampire. “Off to sleep under the stars?”

“Amongst them actually.” Astarion replied, keeping his face perfectly neutral. As if to not give anything away.

Wyll gave him a knowing look. “You be a gentleman, yeah?”

“Aren’t I always?” He said with a little bow before grabbing his bag and slinking out of the room.

• • •

Your room was very quiet when he emerged back in it. Your empty dinner plate was sat on the edge of the nightstand, the glass of wine mostly untouched expect for that first single sip. The candles were starting to flicker with their last remaining life, the glow now a deep set orange instead of a bright yellow light.

You had stepped behind the privacy screen as you changed, only the outline of your figure could be seen through the sheer material stretched across the wood. He’d seen your naked body before, as you’d seen his — several times by now, actually. But he respected the privacy — appreciated it actually. There was something quite raw about getting undressed in front of someone like this. Something vulnerable.

Something he wasn’t quite ready for.

Realizing he had been staring at that screen and your outline, he sat his bag down on the dresser and began sorting through his things. He heard the soft pads of your feet across the worn floorboards, before the creak of the bed as you laid in it. He turned around with a fake cough, his own night clothes in his pale hands. “May I?” He jerked his head towards the screen.

You simply nodded, turning on your side away from the screen to face the ajar window instead.

He changed efficiently, tugging on the delicate breezy nightclothes before padding bare feet to place his folded clothes on top of his rucksack. He swallowed thickly as he turned to survey the room, to the large space you left in the double bed — intended for him.

"I don't bite." You muttered with your eyes still closed. Like you could sense him hesitating.

He barked a laugh, before moving to his side. "Cheeky pup." He slid into the bed, savoring the feeling of the soft sheets on his skin, the way the mattress hugged his tired and sore body. He hadn't slept in a real bed in ages, in well — he couldn't remember how long. He thought he had gotten used to the small comfort of his bed roll and tent these past weeks, especially when he compared it to the stone floor of Cazador's dungeon and kennels. But remembering the simple luxury of this room and bed would put his tent to shame once he returned to it. His pale fingertips rubbed the soft fabric covering his body, committing to memory.

You adjusted yourself next to him, moving your pillow in a way that wafted your scent throughout the room. It made his movements stop, frozen as his senses were overwhelmed by you. You smelled sweet and warm — inviting. And it had nothing to do with the scent of your bouquet that usually clouded his mind. Licking his lips, he forced himself to look away from you — instead looking up at the dark ceiling, as the last flickers of the surviving candle in the room began to fade away.

"Good night, Astarion." You mumbled into your pillow, your voice already sounding heavy with sleep.

"Sweet dreams darling." He whispered back.

You had fallen asleep next to each other before, of course — laid out in that forest or on the sands of a beach after wondering off away from the others to have your way with each other.

This... this was different.

He couldn’t will himself to fall into a trance. No matter how hard he tried. Instead he was still staring up at the grays and blacks of the dark ceiling, becoming more and more increasingly aware of your breaths and the thrum of your heartbeat.

Only once he had heard them slow down, only once he knew you were in a deep sleep, did he chance looking over to you.

Your face was peaceful, serene as you slept. He wasn’t sure if it was actual moonlight trickling in, or just the cleric Isobel’s protective aura that had cast the blueish white light into the room. But either way it was resulted in Selûne’s power, and even in your sleep you were basking in it. The freckles that marked your checks and nose were almost glittering in the light. The silvery white of your hair shimmering. Your soft lips slightly parted as you dreamed.

Gods, you were beautiful.

Astarion closed his eyes as he was suddenly reminded of his times stuck in those wretched dungeons in the palace. Not what torture or pain he had to endure there. No. For once, that was buried away.

No, instead he recalled what he stared at to get him through those never ending sessions of abuse and torment.

The night sky through those barred windows.

The stars, somehow still blinking and winking from him through the city smoke and light.

And the moon. That beacon of light in the black sky — constantly changing its shape and colour. But it was always there when he needed it to be. When he needed to look up, to be somewhere else, to think of something else — the moon was always there.

Shining. Listening. Understanding.

His eyes opened again, staring again at your tranquil face, your slumbering form curled into the soft bed and sheets.

You were so much more than he had bargained for. A companion blessed with a drop of an actual god’s power. He should have been thrilled — that his plans for protection and well-deserved justice on Cazador was even easier to achieve than he first thought.

No. Instead he realized he was feeling something else. Something… new.

That even though he had missed the sun, longed for it for two hundred years, delighted in the colours it cast the world in it. That even though he could finally enjoy the sun's beam, and bask in the it's warmth and golden glow. Despite all that, he knew that the sun would never understand him like the moon did.

Oh shit.

He had royally fucked up his plan.

Part II: here

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x gn reader #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 fanfic #astarion/reader #astarion/tav

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genderkoolaid · 1 year

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also whenever people talk about how "terfs loooove transmascs" they never bring up how terfs will talk about how men are sick subhumans that should be exterminated and are incapable of not oppressing women and women should be allowed to kill them en masse. and specifically saying shit like gay male sex is gross and dirty and patriarchal and lesbian sex is pure and good. and then they see a gay trans man and suddenly they are gay cis men's #1 defenders against the Evil Fujos who are gonna force them into Heterosexual Sex. almost like their main goal is hating trans people

#also when they call us troons and tell us we need to get fucked into being lesbians #bc they loooove women and transmascs so much #m.

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gabessquishytum · 3 months

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Arranged marriage idea!

Dream’s parents force him to marry Hob, an eligible omega whose family has money, which the endless family needs. Dream hugely resents it.

But hob is in love with Dream. He was actually happy to be marrying him. He admired Dream and thought he was so smart and beautiful and respectful—before the wedding hob is giddy with joy. Until he walks down to the altar and sees Dream, clearly displeased, his scent sour with annoyance.

And hob realizes the moment he says his vows that he is now effectively in a loveless marriage.

Their wedding night is…awful. Dream is impersonal and barely does the minimum to ensure hob enjoys himself and doesn’t meet his eye even once.

After, he tells hob that as soon as hob has given him an heir, hob is free to take a lover.

Hob doesn’t say anything but he does his best to not let dream see that he’s heartbroken. Dream doesn’t even stay the night. He goes back to his own quarters and leaves hob alone.

But this is hob. So he mourns for a while and then he decides to move on with life. Marrying dream catapulted him high in society and just because his husband doesn’t want him doesn’t mean he is worthless.

So hob starts attending events and throwing them himself. He starts making friends. He opens up Dream’s dreary house and redecorates and brings his sense of life and determination to everything he does.

Soon he’s kind of a darling of their society. He’s earned himself plenty of friends and tons of admirers.

Dream is…surprised to say the least. People compliment him all the time on hob and tell him how lucky he must feel. Meanwhile they only really see each other during hob’s heat or Dream’s rut or when Dream accompanies him to a party. Dream never dances with him.

They make stilted conversation. Or hob does. But he gets nothing from dream.

However dream is starting to admire hob.

By the time the twins, robin and Orpheus, are born, things are coming full circle. Hob has decided to stop waiting on his husband and he find a lover.

And Dream has become rather smitten with his husband. Maybe it’s watching him care for their sons, maybe it was the way hob held onto him when he first started contractions, maybe Dream always had the potential to feel this way. But years too late, he’s finally ready to court his omega.

I loooove this concept, and I also love that we definitely all have the same braincell because I know for a fact that @seiya-starsniper has a wip which follows a similar storyline - but with the secondary genders flipped! It's something I'm very excited about (while also putting no pressure on you seiya alsksjdhd <333). Anyway, I'm gonna talk a lil bit about this because I do love a good arranged marriage trope.

I just live for the idea of Dream courting the man hes been married to for years at this point. He realises that he doesn't know enough about Hob, so he start learning. His favourite foods, his habits, little treats that he indulges in, the bath salts that he likes best. Dream learns it all, and starts using his new knowledge. He sends Hob flowers. He buys him new outfits. He spends time with the boys so Hob can rest. He actually listens and responds when Hob nervously tries to engage him in conversation.

Meanwhile Hob is just so confused and lost as to why his husband is finally interacting with him. What changed? Did he realise that Hob was starting to look elsewhere and decided that he wanted Hob for himself after all? It's kind of frustrating. But because the boys like having both mama and papa around together, Hob makes an effort to respond to Dream. They take daytrips. They hold hands on the street. Dream asks him to dance at the first big garden party of the summer, and Hob accepts (after he's picked his jaw up off the floor).

So they're both in love with each other, but neither of them knows what to say or do to take the next step. It's easier during heats and ruts when they're not thinking so much, but the rest of the time they're both scared of shattering the uneasy happiness they've built. Especially Dream, who still feels guilty. He knows that Hob isn't totally done with being angry with him...

Then Hob gets pregnant again, which was unplanned for... and with hormones rolling around his body, Hob finally can't hold back anymore! He ends up standing with his hands on his hips, the picture of the perfect pregnant omega, scolding his alpha while Dream literally grovels on his knees. As he should!

The happy accident baby finally brings them together, and Robin and Orpheus are thrilled with the new addition to the family. Dream finally takes Hob on the long awaited honeymoon that they never had the first time around - and he never takes his omega for granted, ever again.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse #cw mpreg

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general-cyno · 5 months

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I really think that while Zoro is more jealous (and has more opportunities to show it because Luffy is more outgoing and has a more inviting personality), Luffy is more possessive. Funny enough, this aligns nicely with their zodiac signs. Scorpio is often described as the most jealous sign or one of the most jealous among all the others while Taurus, although not necessarily the jealous type, is more of a "what's mine is mine, stay away" type. I loooove your tags!

Hi anon, thank you! 🫶🏼

and yeah, I agree. tbh zoro's lowkey jealous streak is really funny to me bc he's weirdly selective about what sets it off and he's also aware there's no stopping luffy from doing whatever so. he just kinda has to bear with it. luffy though, now he's an interesting one.

thing is - luffy's never really had to fight for zoro's loyalty nor to keep him around. resort to a liiittle bit of blackmail to persuade him into joining the crew? yeah. demonstrate he can be a responsible/serious captain during certain circumstances? sure. there's the davy back fight where the entire crew was in danger of being snatched also but other than that, he's never had outsiders actively try to take zoro away from him, specifically. he likely doesn't know about the zoro who was asked to but refused to join baroque works unless he got to be the boss. the zoro he's known is the one who's content to be luffy's first mate/second in command and has reaffirmed luffy's position and authority as the captain before.

now imagine a scenario where someone who genuinely shares zoro's interests (in booze, swords, fighting for example) and whose attention zoro reciprocates bc of that. maybe they're a fellow swords fighter, a good one too, and zoro being zoro he's curious and eager to test his strength against them. while he's generally less extroverted than luffy, zoro usually gets along with other folks too y'know? and it's fine, zoro is cool and luffy likes it when others admire his friends.

the problem is when this person lets it slip or dares to suggest zoro should stop being a pirate. this conveniently (or purposefully) happens when zoro isn't present, of course. insists that being part of luffy's crew is what's stunting zoro's progress and that he'd be closer to achieving his dream on his own or at least if he were the one leading instead, which this person argues they can help with. not luffy or the crew, especially not luffy who's dragging him down...

...which is crazy, right. couldn't be. depending on the context, imo pre TS luffy would perhaps doubt himself a bit. zoro indeed has no interest in staying a pirate if not for luffy or the straw hats, he's said it before, not to mention how their fist meeting went. post TS luffy though - now that's vicious. imagine mixing up possessiveness with shit like conqueror's haki. either luffy's gonna end this person's career by forcing them to witness exactly how loyal zoro is to him (bc zoro is his, has been since the beginning) or directly gum gum their ass into oblivion.

under less threatening circumstances, I can see luffy being more chill though still pretty clingy and asserting his possessiveness more casually, maybe doing so kind of obliviously. ruining every single moment in which xy person tries to talk to zoro alone or while trying to initiate more physical contact, stuff like that. it'd be hilarious.

#man jealous luffy is so underrated #I need it so bad #sorry I ended up writing so much AJSJDJFJ brainrot incurable #tp #replies #zolu

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desire-mona · 28 days

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siiiigh. todd autism headcanons because im projecting.

(using they/he/she pronouns for todd in this post. will explain but also if u dont agree i dont care, tw for alcoholism. time period is vague but autism hasnt existed as a legitimate medical diagnosis for all that long, so keep it in mind i guess.)

- cannot for the life of him stand welton's blankets. so itchy, just thin enough to not warm you up enough but still make you sweat, not long enough to cover your entire body. yes im making the blanket line in their poem about actual blankets, a boy needs to vent somewhere.

- beyond terrible temperature regulation, ALWAYS just a little too hot which is made worse by her sensory issues when it comes to wet fabric. constant slight agony and it never really goes away. theyre about 5 minutes away from crying about how uncomfortable they are at all times.

- had god awful handwriting until high school, like his teachers could BARELY read his handwriting it was Bad. OOOOOH OH MY GOD THERES A TRAIN GOING BY I CAN HEAR IT HONKING this is a really ironic thing to be pointing out rn but its sooooo worth mentioning. its still honking this is fun. 🚂. anyway. her parents made her spend an entire summer fixing her handwriting bc that was like the One thing her teachers criticised. its Fine now but their motor function simply doesn't deliver in the handwriting department.

- had a VERY INTENSE special interest in aquatic life + marine biology growing up, like read every book about any ocean animal in any library intense. his parents eventually forced him to abandon it because its "not a good career focus" but he still perks up when anyone mentions fish. once talked neils ear off about the biodiversity of coral reefs for roughly 2 hours, neil took her to an aquarium for their first date. rip todd anderson you wouldve loved spongebob squarepants.

- looooves pets, namely cats, but they have Too Sweaty hands all the time so any animal fur sticks onto their hands and just feels. so awful.

- had a brief period in his 20s where he was definitely an alcoholic, started as a social drinker but got too addicted to the feeling of not having to adhere to social conventions quite as hard, especially around other drunk ppl. eventually went sober after they realised they just Cant Stand the feeling of a hangover anymore. autistic ppl r more likely to develop a dependency on alcohol if we do start drinking. just btw.

- gets a Pretty Expansive vocabulary after actually starting to pursue literature. sometimes his family lightly teases him about using big words but it confuses the hell out of him. its just a word she thought would apply best!!

- soooooo obsessed with what other ppls idea of them is, both in an anxious way and out of genuine curiosity. would never ask ppl what they think of her bc she thinks thats 1) very broad 2) seems compliment fish-y and 3) just gonna lead to "i think ur great/ nice/ whatever filler compliment." but the dream is to sit someone (neil) down and just ask him every single question possible about how he perceives him.

- asks a billion clarifying questions about anything someone asks him to do, gets anxious about how many questions he's asking, tries to just figure it out, freaks out about the possibility of getting it wrong, ends up doing the thing perfectly. weekly occurrence.

- never fully grasped the appeal of religion (most definitely grew up catholic or christian or Something) just bc she could NOT let the lack of proof go. ALSO not an atheist bc the vastness of space scares them out of it. religious beliefs r a weird topic for them.

- suppresses a good chunk of his stims in public bc One total time someone looked at him weird while he was chewing on a sweatshirt string and he was like i gotta stop NOW. eventually develops tics and has to mask THOSE in public too. dear god someone let this girl unmask. also i started ticcing while writing that bc my body does this great thing where i only tic when im reminded of the concept of ticcing. its great and totally doesnt make me think im faking them (faking for who? dunno bc it usually happens when im alone)

- DOES in fact stim around neil bc NEIL STIMS TOO!!!!!!!! joyous day when they found THAT out! gets vocal stims of random lines from whatever play neil is practicing for. YEAA ART THOU THEEEEREE was a vocal stim for a solid week and a half which made neil VERY excited (autistic neil. how i love u autistic anderperry)

- velcro is The most evil vile disgusting material to ever grace this mortal realm. he hates it more than anything ever and i mean that fully. the feeling of BOTH sides, the noise, how easily it comes apart, she hates it all.

this is the gender part

never really viewed gender and gender roles as anything to adhere to beyond the fear of punishment if they dont. finds any social convention relating to gender to be Really dumb and meaningless, bc gender isn't (scientifically) real in any capacity, so why treat it like that? for the longest time just shrugged and said "eh, i guess im a boy" bc thats what she was used to being told, and didn't feel particularly drawn to agree OR disagree. eventually realised on a late night that Wait. i dont Actually care what i am. like yeah im a Male i guess but also im just me. my brain doesnt have a gender and i basically am my brain, right? and then never really thought about it again because that's genuinely how little he cares. adhering the most to canon with that mindset, she never really tells anyone (for obvious reasons on top of the overall apathy) and just lets the he/him happen to her but. in my dream world? agender they/he/she todd anderson. and this is MY blog so those are the pronouns im using from now on. i will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl very often view gender differently than allistic ppl, will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl are more likely to be trans. autism!!!

also yes that entire paragraph is just my view of gender, change the pronouns and the todd mentions and its just me. what of it.

#desire mona #YAYYYYYYYY TODD AUTISM POST #do yall want a seperate autistic anderperry hc post cuz i can do that #genderqueer todd i love you so much #dead poets society #todd anderson #anderperry #the todd spectrum #actually autistic #banger

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officialfoxsquadron · 2 months

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Luke Skywalker NSFW Alphabet

Writing exercise complete! Here's some headcanons revolving around this NSFW alphabet meme. Just smutty, horny thoughts under the cut. Generally throughout the Original Trilogy with a gender neutral reader!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

No matter the era, Luke is incredibly sweet after sex. He’s always happy to clean you up and prefers, if he can, spending lots of time kissing and cuddling afterwards. I honestly think the aftercare would be one of his favorite parts, just spending time with his loved one and falling asleep together.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is his eyes. I think he’s not really prone to much vanity, but sometimes he does look at himself in the mirror and think “Huh. They really ARE blue.” And you KNOW once he gets the ESB arms he is like wow…wish my dad didn’t cut off my hand…because my arms look so damn good right now…the true tragedy.

I have posted about Luke being attracted to thighs, but I also am firmly in the “Luke is a tits/chest man” camp. It’s just true! Sorry!

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

First of all shout out to the community for canonizing for me that Luke cums an absurd amount b/c…yes. His preference would be to cum inside of you, but he also loves to cum on your stomach and just see how much of it there is. He’d also be really into cumming in your mouth and tasting it afterwards.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is interested in exploring pain as pleasure, both giving and receiving. But he wouldn’t do it without a trusted partner and a lot of talk beforehand. Otherwise he’s pretty open about his fantasies.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I mean, oh my god. I think this depends on the timeline. A New Hope Luke has very little experience beyond making out, I think. But he would be very eager to learn. ESB Luke? Has at least fucked a few times and is just generally more knowledgeable. ROTJ Luke and beyond? It does not matter whether or not he is experienced, the man can read your thoughts so he’ll probably do fine.

F = Favorite Position

He likes anything really intimate. He loves missionary, but also really loves spooning you and the access it gives him to your body. He also looooves you on top - he’s able to really look at you, feel you, even change it into a sitting position and make out.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Again, this depends. He definitely can be, and I think he’d be able to laugh about any awkwardness or silly mishaps. He’s also really playful, and would love play fights or tickling that turns into more. But, I also think he can get pretty intense at times, especially during the act and right before he cums.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He tries to keep things neat, but he’s not too concerned with it. His hair is a little darker, and he has a small happy trail from his belly button.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Okay this is a big one. I think the intimacy of sex is the most important thing for him. Given his connection to the Force, sex is just as much of an intense mental experience as it is physical. So all this to say, he is very romantic, making sure his partner is happy, giving them as much pleasure as he can. He always, always, always would want to cum simultaneously or very close together.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

So I headcanon Luke as on the ace spectrum (demisexual), so this headcanon definitely relates to that.

I think he’d occasionally masturbate, but it’s not like he feels he NEEDS to. Especially in the Rebellion, if he ever gets a moment alone, I feel like he would just be thinking, “Oh, nice, I can jack off now! Great!” And then just...not think of it again for four more weeks because he’s so damn busy.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Man is never beating the praise kink allegations, sorry! He loves being told how amazing he’s doing and how well he’s pleasing you.

I think he’d be really into overstimulation? The idea of upping the intensity of pleasure, chasing multiple orgasms…yeah he’d love it.

I also headcanon him as a switch, and he’d love taking control sometimes. But he’d also love you in control, making him beg–especially during ROTJ and beyond. He is so in control of his feelings and finally started to work out this whole Jedi thing-he’d love a partner who can ease him into losing control for once.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

A little boring, but given his history, he would be so excited to make love in a big, plush bed. He’s so used to sleeping in bunks, on the literal ground, or on his ship, so he thinks it’s the most romantic thing ever. Any time he is near a body of water or has a real shower, he also wants to take some time there together-even if it’s just to make out or cuddle (but lbrh, it always ends in sex.) Also, despite the logistical nightmare, you definitely fuck in his X-Wing at least once.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Adrenaline is a huge one! Anytime he’s working out or fighting, he’d get turned on easily. He’d like sparring or training with his sexual partner. And as much as he likes to tease his partner, he loves being teased in return. Especially if you’re newly dating, he would get flustered very, very easily by the minimum amount of flirting.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Definitely not into choking for obvious reasons, same with being called daddy. I also don’t think he’d do something involving non-consent.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Luke loves giving oral! He could spend hours pleasing his partner, drawing multiple orgasms out of them. He loves to receive too-loves wrapping his hands in his hair, and especially loves if you let him fuck your mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He prefers to go slow and really take his time. Time is such a luxury to him, so pretty much any time he can draw things out he will. That being said, he doesn’t mind something more rough and passionate, especially if it’s been a while since he’s seen you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’d be down, especially if your schedules are busy and as a younger man, when his passion tends to run hot.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He definitely loves to experiment! He’s probably not super knowledgeable (personally I think Tatooine was pretty sexually conservative, as rural areas tend to be.) But as soon as he’s with someone he trusts, it’s like a flip switches.

Hmm. In terms of risks, I mean…this is the guy who took one look at the Death Star trench run and was like “oh this is easy.” So he’d definitely be down for a few risks (something semi-public or with the danger of getting caught) but I don’t think he’d go crazy.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

As a younger man, he can definitely go for a few rounds. During ANH/ESB he sometimes finishes a little faster than he intends (sorry Luke!) but eventually, his patience grows. ROTJ and beyond, though-it’s pretty much the exact opposite. He has a ton of patience that he uses to tease you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I think he’s willing to experiment! He might not immediately think of it but with a partner who’s interested, sure. I don’t think he owns any toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Luke is such a tease. He has so much fun drawing out the experience for his partner and getting them worked up. I have this headcanon of him just whispering the most insanely horny things to a partner in semi-public settings and..yeah he 100% would!

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Luke is also not beating the vocal heacanons, sorry! He will whine and beg, like he can get pathetic. But there’s also times where he’s surprisingly calm and quiet, just staring at you or panting softly, completely lost in the moment.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon)

LET’S TALK ABOUT INAPPROPRIATE USE OF THE FORCE.

Especially pre-Jedi Training, there will be some moments where he would accidentally use the Force during sex. It wouldn’t be conscious but like, let’s say he’s gripping a headboard and he’d accidentally grip it a little too hard? Or right after both of you finish, in the hazy afterglow, he’d reach for a towel and it would just..float into his hand.

ROTJ and beyond, he would be very very cool with using the Force for your pleasure, but only with explicit permission. (He’s a Consent King, what can I say.)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I still maintain Luke is packing, given some of the ahem EVIDENCE we have throughout Mark’s career. Also, he’s uncut. He’s long with some girth, but nothing disproportionate.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Hm. So I headcanon Luke as demisexual so I’d say it depends. If he doesn’t have a partner his sex drive is pretty low. But if he has a partner, oh LORD. I think he’d want to be having sex literally all the time. Especially if you just started sleeping together. You would need 3-5 business days of just fucking together before he’s satisfied. He’d be so excited to just explore with a new partner!

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Especially after an intense session, he can fall asleep pretty quickly! But he at least wants to clean you up and make sure you’re alright before he knocks out for the night. He just feels really pleasantly sleepy afterwards.

#eowyn speaks #my writing #luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker headcanons #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader

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mermmarie · 2 years

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DATING THE BAYVERSE BOYS The Good, The Bad, The Ugly, and The Sexy

Authors Note: In my TMNT phase hardcore right now and I thought... I wanna share my headcanons for dating the the Bayverse Ninja Turtles!! 😋 Mostly under the cut because of mature themes/ideas. Hope you like 'em! Also, small thanks to @seafoamtaffy for helping me out with a few of Leonardos! 💙

Disclaimer: All characters depicted are 20+

Warnings: Mature/sexual themes, NSFW mentions, mature language. MINORS DNI

MICHELANGELO

The good:

The master of positive encouragement/reinforcement. This boy builds you up like no other! It’s almost impossible to think bad of yourself around him.

Lots of physical affection, especially PDA. (As public as it can be living a life in the shadows) Loves kissing you, holding your hands, cuddling. No shame around his brothers, father, or April and Casey.

Would graffiti random buildings, subway cars, and trains in your name or with symbols that represent your love.

Food is his love language. Not a fantastic cook, but he can follow instructions and he’d try making your favorite meal for special events like your birthday, Valentines, anniversaries, or when you had a bad week. He’d also spoil you with your favorite snacks and sweets whenever he has the means to do so.

Would serenade you a lot, and makes playlists for you. They’d consist of songs he thinks you would like, and songs that reminded him of you and your relationship with him.

The bad:

Cliiiiiingy. Always has to have his hands on you and follows you everywhere. Even wants to be in the bathroom with you when you’re using the toilet.

Generally, not the jealous type, but absolutely needs your constant attention.

Texts and calls you a lot. (Almost too much) Like, goddamn. You know he has a lot of time on his hands cause he’s cooped down in the sewers until nighttime, but dude—chill.

The ugly:

Guilt trips you over having to return to your surface life and personal duties.

Straight up avoids and ignores if there’s problems with your relationship. He knows no relationship is perfect, but he doesn’t want to break the fantasy, So, if you’re upset and wanna talk things out, he’ll redirect the conversation a lot of the time. You’ll have to be pretty stern to get through to him.

Horny. All. The. TIME. He’d push boundaries to get you in the mood, even going as far to make unwanted advances. (Wouldn’t do anything against your will, or force himself upon you though.)

The sexy:

Can and will laugh during sex. And good, because it’s definitely interesting between a giant mutant turtle and normal human being. There’s a lot for both of you to learn, but he’s surprisingly patient and things are never awkward with him.

He is willing to do the horizontal tango any time you want it. You could literally spend thirty minutes shitting your guts out due to having indulged on your favorite, but forbidden dairy product, and he’d still be down to clown afterwards.

Looooves oral. (Both giving and receiving) He can’t get enough of the taste of you, and would work diligently to give you multiple orgasms through going down on you.

He’s confident in his abilities and open to anything. You want him to put on a sexy dance for you? You got it! Wanna try a new move? Say no more! Have a kink you’ve been reluctant to tell him about? Baby, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of!

Great with aftercare. Ya’ll would either fall asleep in each other’s arms, cuddle up watching your favorite streaming shows, or play some hand-held video games together afterwards.

DONATELLO

The good:

Thoroughly interested and supportive of your passions and hobbies. Loves listening to you speak on them and would try his best to get involved in some way.

Since he’s the tech guy, a good majority of your dates would consist of pirating your favorite shows, and movies. He’d take you out in the turtle van to some desolate underpass, and project the picture on a wide slab of concrete. Afterwards, he’d put the media on your favorite format so you could have it always; downloads, dvds, even the nearly nonfunctional vhs’s!

Also, since he’s the tech guy he would surprise you with deliveries to your work place from time to time. Flowers, edible arrangements, your favorite drinks, thoughtful cards (with some spending money~ bounces eyebrows. He’d love the idea of being your sugar daddy when he’s able to. 😩 )

Because he’s such a tall boy, forehead kisses are his thing. He peppers your cute little dome with small little pecks any chance he gets.

When he’s low on energy he drags you into power naps with him, which inevitably turns into a slumber because he’s so comfortable in your presence, and you find content in his warmth.

An added extra: Since Donatello is the tattoo artist of the group, free ink if you’re into that kind of thing! 👀

The bad:

This guy works off a schedule, and sometimes he just doesn’t have the time to fit you into it. With training, patrol, lair upkeep, creating new tech, and being the only one to have an actual job (because how else are they paying for food?), he’s unfortunately a very busy turtle.

Is the silent type when upset, and worst of all, he gets more upset if you don’t realize that something’s bothering him.

Double standards. He would insist that you properly take care of yourself. Drink lots of water, cut back on caffeine, shower and moisturize, eat three meals a day and snack in between, get eight hours of sleep, take a day off of work, etc… But Donnie doesn’t hold himself to the same expectations and good luck trying to get him to change. (Sometimes he shares his red-cladded brothers’ stubbornness.)

The ugly:

Internet stalks you, your family and your exes... He mostly does it as a means to gather useful information, and he’s clever enough to only use it in the appropriate situations, but it’ll take you aback when he mentions the name of an ex when you two fight. (He’ll never do it again after the first time however.)

Gets almost unreasonably upset when you have to cancel plans with him. To reference back to how busy he is, and double standards; he just expects you to be able to make time for him. After all, you’re not a defender of New York, nor are you confined to specific hours of the day like he is. How busy can you be?

Since you have a life on the surface, he sometimes gets into his head and assumes the worst. He’s stuck in the lair until nightfall, and his stupid brain likes to torture him with made up scenarios. He’ll make jokes of it, but you know there’s a hint of truth and insecurity behind the question, “So, who’d ya cheat on me with today?” It’s never funny…

The sexy:

Dandere in the streets, Kuudere in the sheets. (Yes, I’m a weeb. Look it up.) He’s not too big on the idea of PDA in front of his brothers, but as soon as it’s just the two of you, his hands will be all over your body and he’ll be macking on those plush lips of yours.

While he enjoys getting off himself, he’s all about pleasing you. A lot of the time, you cumming is more than suffice for him.

Because he is the most internet savvy, he’s done his research on your anatomy. So, unlike the other brothers, your first time together would be quite pleasurable. (Which is a feat considering Donatello has the biggest dick (fight me), so there would be a lot of work put into getting you prepared for it, but he enjoys the foreplay.)

Blindfolds. He can’t see during sex (if he removes his glasses of course) so why should you? It’s a fun little venture from time to time exploring each other’s bodies with your other senses.

He will fucking lap up the ground you walk on if you moan or scream his name during. For the love of god, just do it. It’ll make him absolutely wild.

RAPHAEL

The good:

You wouldn’t expect it of him before you started dating, but once you enter a relationship, he is the best listener. You’ll accidentally spend long amounts of time vent dumping on him, because he’s actually very attentive and empathetic of your feelings.

Since Raph leaves the lair the most (due to needing “fresh air”) he knows New York the best. Which means he takes you to all the cool and secret attractions of the city for date nights.

He includes you in his workouts, if you know what I’m saying? 😏😏😏 I mean, he asks for your assistance… Uses you as added weights, has you help him with certain stretches, asks you to time him on specific drills. He just wants you to be part of one of his favorite activities. (WHICH INCLUDES SEX! Duh. 😋)

You already knew this was coming but… He knits you clothes! Mainly stuff to keep you warm in the winter. So, sweaters, scarves, gloves, and socks. Buuut-- He also dabbles in jewelry in secret. None of his brothers know about it, but Donnie is always curious as to why he borrows/steals his pliers, wire cutters and soldering tools every once in a while. You get custom made bracelets, earrings, and necklaces out of this. (He wouldn’t make you rings until far long into your relationship. He’s a shy boy and doesn’t want to scare you off with the implications. Plus, they’re hard to make, lol.)

Playful teasing and showboating of you. Only to levels you’re comfortable with, but he’s proud to be your significant other, and you’re so attractive to him, he’s gotta show you off to his brothers a little bit. He’ll pinch/grab/smack your ass (gently, lol), caress your face, arms, thighs, and nuzzle his snout into the crook of your neck in front of them, just to get all of you flustered and worked up.

The bad:

Has the millennial phone fear. He doesn’t like talking on the phone much because he dislikes the way his voice sounds to him when you put him on speaker, and he isn’t good at texting you back in a timely matter either… He argues that your conversations are more meaningful in person.

Prone to fighting, duh. Verbal fights of course. Raphael would never lay a hand on you, but if upset enough, he would break things around you. Punch a wall, throw a chair, shatter a glass. He’s also quick to raise his voice and yell, so if that kind of thing makes you uncomfortable, expect tears. (Although, as soon as you start crying, he crumbles.)

Would avoid missionary position, or any position that gave you an angle on his face at first. He’s insecure about his physique and features, and wouldn’t want to scare you or turn your off with his looks. (Though, as soon as you cupped your hands against his cheeks and stared down his emerald eyes, lorrrddd!! It’d ignite a passionate fury in him!)

The ugly:

We all expect jealousy of Raphael, but it’s in the worst ways. He’ll get jealous of his brothers interacting with you and vice versa. He won’t act on his feelings, but he doesn’t like the others touching you or being too interested in conversation with you. He’s also jealous of you specifically. He hates it, but you’re beautiful and normal. You get so many opportunities being human that he couldn’t even possibly dream of. He’d try to keep those insecurities to himself, but they of course bubble up when you fight.

(Like his purple-coded brother) He stalks you. He tells himself he’s being a good boyfriend and he’s just watching over you; making sure nobody messes with ya, but in reality he wants to know what you’re up too at all times. If your residence has the view for it, he’ll become a peeping tom and watch you undress.

Raph always grows distant when your time together is coming to an end. He just checks out hours before you actually have to go. He must think it’s a way to protect himself mentally, but it’s just unfair to you and almost impossible to pull him back into the moment.

The sexy:

Raph just emits sexual tension into everything. The way he lifts weights, how his brows furrow when he looks at you, the way his tongue dances around the toothpick in his mouth, how he folds laundry… Like, how? WHY?? I mean you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but boy it’s almost troublesome how he can make you so hot and bothered so easily.

A double standard, but he wouldn’t let you be insecure about anything during sexy time, especially not your body. - You: I don’t want to do x,y,or z because I’m too heavy/too boney/have too much hair/don’t like my stretch marks/my bits are different from others/etc… - Raph: … If you don’t get your ass over here and sit on my face right now.

His tongue… is so long… 😳💦 Do I really need to say anything more??

Have you been interested in standing sex positions, but could never try them out because your past partners weren’t strong enough for them? Well, these are Raphy-boys specialty! Holding you up and pumping away in ya is a breeze for him, and good thing too! Because your legs are gonna be wet noodles afterwards~

He is actually okay with you egging him on during sex. As in: Saying things to purposely piss him off to make him fuck you raw. You would need to talk about what’s okay to say beforehand, and make non-verbal cues for safe words; but once that’s said and done, he’s game. It gets him riled up in the best ways possible.

LEONARDO

The good:

Leonardo will just pop in on you randomly during the DAY, just to say hi, and see how you’re doing, maybe even give you a few kisses. He’s so confident in his stealth abilities, and honestly… it’s justified. Still, it nearly gives you a heart attack every time and a playful fight breaks out as you urge him to leave so he won’t be seen by other surface dwellers.

If you need a task done, Leonardo is your #1 motivator. He won't do it for you, pfft! No. But he will absolutely help you stay on track. So, if there’s something you need a push to do, like finish a college essay you’ve been procrastinating on, doing an exercise routine after a long day of work, or making a stress inducing dentist appointment on your own; he’s your guy!

Massages. The guy actually knows what he’s doing and isn’t just pinching and pulling your skin. Knows what muscles to work on to relieve you of that headache, and what pressure points to hit to release the stress and tension you’ve been holding.

It’s a little silly, but he ‘bridal carries’ you a lot. He loves holding you in his arms, so when there’s an opportunity for it, he scoops you right up! It’s definitely unnecessary sometimes; like when he carries you from the living room area to his bedroom, but are you really gonna say no to those biceps, triceps and delts? 😩💦

All the turtles would teach you self-defense and CQC at some point in your relationship with them, but Leonardo would be adamant on it from the beginning. He would want you to be able to protect yourself when he’s not around. If you’re able to successfully to take him down, (which is gonna be hard because…he big 😳) he would instantly pop a hard one.

The bad:

Not so creative with date nights. He just likes spending time with you and figures you feel the same way. You’ll have to be the one to come up with fun ideas to do, or at least drop him hints on how to spice things up.

Needs you to be independent. He’s the leader, he’s got a whole city to defend and four brothers to take care of. So, you aren’t going to have his attention 100% of the time. Not to mention, he’s the kind of guy who likes his space. He’s got his things that he likes to do on his own, so you need some of your own.

Ironically, he also kind of… parents you. Especially when you don’t want it or ask. He thinks he knows best and will try to steer you in a certain direction. “You shouldn’t wear that article of clothing, it’s too revealing.” “If you want a raise, ask for it.” “Don’t stay up all night doing ____, it’s bad for your health.” “ _____ person is right, you were being ____” (Oooh, the last one. You definitely have to teach him the difference between wanting him to just listen and wanting him to respond.)

The ugly:

He doesn’t have the time for your interest. Don’t get it wrong, he likes to hear about them and supports you pursuing them it’s just… if they aren’t his specifically, or they don’t mix in some way, he just can’t be bothered to be involved.

When you get into major disagreements his tongue can be quite sharp. He’s only used to Raphael questioning his authority and opinions, so his temper is surprisingly short and his remarks are critical. If he’s losing the battle, he’ll sometimes resort to just straight up ignoring you by going silent or leaving the room.

Jealous of toys and the idea of you getting off by yourself. While he absolutely has no problem making you cum, he wants to be the only one to make you moan and scream. So, best to leave the solo sessions at home.

The sexy:

(Technically, this could be a ‘bad’ point but…) Don’t wear any clothes you really like when planning on getting down and dirty with Leo because has a bad habit of ripping them off of you.

Leo’s really good with foreplay, and not just with stimulating you. He’s good at setting the mood, and building tension, all while keeping a cool head himself. It’s a bit infuriating how hard it is to rile him up the same way, but at least it makes for a fun game you both enjoy.

(Being the weeb he is) Leo loves to practice Shibari on you. He loves seeing you restrained and completely submissive to him. He’s even gone out of his way to find/buy decorative rope to tie you up with, it’s gotta accentuate your beauty. If you’re lucky enough, he may let you try it out on him. (Although, you can only do a handful of knots and ties considering his shell gets in the way.)

He marks you with hickeys and bites. Most of the time, he is considerate enough to only leave them in spots where you can hide them, buuut--- Every once in a while he wants to remind his brothers, and surface dwellers that you are his.

Katoptronophilia babyyyy! You already know Leonardo is the type of guy who’d be into watching his performance in the mirror. (Not to mention taking in how good you look in the reflective glass. 😏)

If you liked these, check out my Dating the Rise Boys headcanons!!

#tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #michelangelo #donatello #raphael #leonardo #mermies #tmnt lit #Mermies Lit

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