#or does he just not understand how close languages work?

[michaelawinter]

Andre Nikto head canons

We have little information about Niko but here's what I've gathered..

((Also I'd like to kindly add, hi, hello, my name is Mika and I am a Bosnian. The chances of me adding some accurate slav head canons are always high but never low!!🙏🏻 ALSO IM TERRIBLY OBSESSED WITH NIKTO SO IF ENJOY THIS AND YOU WANT DATING NIKTO HEAD CANONS PLEASE LET ME KNOWWW))

Genuine head canons:

Andre Nikto (Никто) is a (scary) Russian military man, roughly 193/194 centimetres (when you compare him to Simon's height) He suffers with acute dissociative disorder (better said DID) yet is still serving the military cause of how he preforms during battle.., so the military still views him as a ideal soldier for combat despite his disorder..

No hate but from what I've seen in some art works claiming it's his "face reveal" you people have to understand that under his mask, his face is disfigured.. so, no he won't be an attractive super model under that mask of his..

I don't think you people are aware how badass Nikto is as a character, almost SIMILAR as Ghost who's in the military for the same reason as everybody else, to risk their life.

Although judging by Nikto's voice lines, he doesn't care who he's killing..if it were up to him, if his teammates serve him zero purpose he'd care less if they die..(after all, you're just a target..) but being a professional, he can't allow that to happen to his teammates

If you look up closely, Nikto wears a military uniform that is different from everyone else with MP-0 written on it. Now if you don't know, MP stands for Military Police (enforcement agencies connected with, or part of, the military of a state.) and zero next to it meaning "nothing" and this is important which is what Nikto refers himself as..

Yeah so about that..

I have a theory about Nikto's nickname

After being captured and brutally tortured with whatever sick tendency mister Z had in store for him. It was Mister Z that couldn't really get much Information about Andre.

They would start torturing him while repeating to Andre that he's nothing, he's no one, what he is is nothing but what he is is everything. Those words play in the back of his head and they never seen to go away.

(This is extremely relevant cause Mister Z tried to get to know a bit of Andre by looking through some research come to find his citizenship and language are censored making him a nobody. Keep in mind, if he found any information about Andre viewing from personal life etc. it will be used as blackmail..)

After recovering his scars and taken to therapy after 7 years he was diagnosed with DID

NOW moving on to the DID part

(What I said about the fact that people overlook Nikto's disorder, I mean it..

Some don't really write about his disorder which is fine but when someone does it gets messy. )

Alters aren't easy to deal with, it's actually gonna haunt you till the day that you die cause there's no cure for it. And in Nikto's case it's from PTSD and Nikto is very aware of his alters..

Let me tell you how Nikto's disorder affects him. Switching can be consensual, forced or triggered, Nikto values silence as much as the next person cause he's dealing with much inside his head already. The kind of guy that would "watch TV" while dissociating with a 100 yard glare with very slow blinking and a slight headache..

There are times where his personalities would correct him when hes referring to himself (example: I'm up..(his personality correctes him) WE'RE up..)

"He made us do this" (and other voice lines I can't recall..)

Maybe cut bits of an apple with a knife and eat it while watching TV..

He has medication prescribed for him but he didn't wanna depend on medications cause they're just drugs..they're nothing to him but just drugs..

He has dissociative amnesia too, sometimes he would wander around confused maybe even annoyed. The amnesia appears to be caused by traumatic or stressful experiences endured or witnessed..Although the forgotten information may be inaccessible to consciousness, it sometimes continues to influence behavior

Like I said he likes quiet people, someone who doesn't waste their air on small talk..

Example; don't really talk to him about the weather, unless you have something interesting to say but if the conversation is gonna go nowhere , don't talk..he finds that a waste of time

People assume just because he's Russian that he likes vodka, he doesn't like vodka...-He doesn't like any alcoholic beverage cause it makes his problems a lot worse,...maybe If you were lending him some as an offering, he'll take it but he has SOME self control, he's okay with coffee, though..

It's relevant cause he stays awake at late hours since he finds it difficult to sleep, he'll stay up late with no music, nothing, just a silent room. It doesn't matter if he tries the military tactic where you just close your eyes and turn off your thoughts, it's very different when you have voices screaming inside your head...

Despite everything he's still intelligent, so being smart + strength + sharp reflexes and you got yourself a criminal

Death doesn't phase him, but to him death is like sleeping, he's not scared of death considering that he's been through hell those past few months.

He likes the simple things, don't complicate anything..because he's quick with catching an attitude..be blunt and forward and stumble over your words..

Nikto shows confidence in the battlefield,just like König, except he has a high rush of adrenaline and will laugh at the enemies death.

Fun fact: in this one comic Price calls Nikto "psycho"

And it's without a doubt that he is one.., a sadistic, sociopathic, psychopath

After splitting, his alters can and will get more aggressive and do more harm and damage to others cause they're doing the most at protecting the host.. (depending on the alter, some wanna protect him while some wanna hurt him)

Oh by the way about the intelligence part, I mean he has a good good memory with remembering faces..

He doesn't like people looking at him funny, he'll get angry really fast and annoyed at the same time.., he won't show hesitation when it comes to approaching you and asking you what are you looking at (it's like trying to avoid eye contact with a homeless man Infront of a store, that's how scared you would be)

He's slow with jokes or any form of humor that you throw at him??? You'll be excited to tell him a joke, and when you do he just looks at you and tells you never to do that again..,or just straight up tell you he doesn't get it...??? and probably trying to explain it either he gets it or not he'll still tell you that it's not funny

He doesn't argue, or he does? Arguing with him will costs you avoiding getting objects thrown at you so you can get out of his sight..tragic, now you have a teammate that hates your guts and won't apologize for it.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 19 . It’s Only Responsibility

a/n: omg my fav chapter is finally here. i was so giddy when writing this lol

tags: low-key yandere behavior from Cale, implied torture, if Cale says what he feels is irritability then it's irritability goddammit

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Cale feels as though he can’t get a good grasp on his emotions these days. In particular, he feels as though he feels intense emotions when _____ is thrown into the mix.

Maybe it’s because he feels accountable as he willingly took in the healer.

He doesn’t know when it started, he only noticed he felt that when back at the Gyerre Territory. It was the afternoon after he had destroyed a human trafficker’s house, just before he talked with Antonio. Ron reported that he had finished investigating the Perduellios.

“Young master, this old man took a stroll there and I must say that it’s very filthy. It looks clean from a certain distance but there are rats everywhere once you look closely. No wonder healer-nim grew up with a weak body. Someone like them does not fit that place.”

The redhead didn’t say anything but the servant could tell his listening to every word. 

The young master’s eyes don’t lie after all. 

And right now those eyes are filled with anger. 

Unmeasurable Anger

To the point it made the servant do a double-take.

Despite Cale’s brewing anger he still does everything according to plan. He doesn’t let out a single ounce of that anger until later when his talking to Alberu.

“Your Highness, the future shining sun of the Roan Kingdom. No one is as bright as you. Just seeing your face, even through a communication device, brightens my night and brings me hope for tomorrow.”

“Just tell me what you want. Is it another golden plaque? But you still have some.”

“Not this time your highness.”

Alberu was taken aback at the serious expression on the redhead’s face.

“As you already know, the Perduellios were working with the Chryshis. I trust your highness to handle the Gyerres and the Chryshis. However…”

“You want to handle the Perduellios.”

“We really are alike your highness.”

Alberu already saw this coming so he instantly agreed.

“I’ll allow it on the condition that they must stay in Aunt Tasha’s dungeon. Speaking of Aunt Tasha, she said she also wants a piece.”

“Then I shall be generous enough to share.”

Cale himself isn’t sure how he had the time to meet that bastard family. Between the war against the Indomitable Alliance. Fighting Arm and the Empire, and teaching the nobles a lesson Cale still managed to find free time to visit the Perduellios.

Must be the power of unmeasurable anger.

“Beacrox, Raon prepare to move quietly tonight. We’ll be meeting Tasha.”

The two are confused as to why, but Cale did not explain. He doesn’t need to as they instantly understand after seeing who’s inside the cell they are visiting.

“Young master Cale shouldn’t _____-nim be here?”

Cale looked at Tasha as if she said the most outrageous thing ever. Meanwhile, in the background, Beacrox is preparing his tools as Raon supplies information as to what the healer went through.

“Why would they be here when I’m doing this to relieve stress? I’m here to act trash, that’s not something an unofficial holy maiden should see.”

The next morning Alberu regrets taking a peak before the cell was cleaned up. He doesn’t think he can light up any of his beloved candles for at least a week.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Succeeding that incident, the next time Cale was overtaken by his emotions was after Operation Reflection. Unlike the last time, Cale felt two conflicting emotions this time.

Skyrocketing Pride and Plumeting Disgust

_____ was a core player during the navy battle and that made the redhead proud. Of course, he was also proud of everyone else in their group.

…but perhaps his a bit more proud of the healer.

However, it was only because they had come a long way. As Cale’s responsibility, his proud that the healer is doing better under his guidance.

Nothing more, nothing less.

“Human, those useless noble bastards were also talking bad about our _____ when you left. Some of them even had the nerve to directly yell at them. I wanted to smack them, but you told me to not do anything to those people for now so I didn't."

But then Raon’s report came.

Pride had been washed over by disgust.

Good thing _____ had talked him out of doing anything rash.

“Cale it’s okay. People who only know how to leech off other people are not worth your time.”

Did he mention how proud he is of how far _____ has come? Because he really is.

However, rumours say that it was the night after that when Cale first ‘visited’ the Perduellios.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Cale’s next overwhelming emotion is something his already familiar with. He already felt it back when they were in the Whipper Kingdom.

In fact, he has already associated this feeling with the healer.

Heart Palpitating Distress

But this time it feels more intense. Cale feels as if his heart is going to crawl out of his chest and into his mouth.

Thump!!

Thump!!

The redhead had been acting as though nothing was wrong ever since they finished the battle at Castle Leona. Contrary to his calm exterior, the redhead is a mess on the inside.

A wound, a stab wound with a lot of blood gushing.

Just inches near _____ heart.

And Cale has a strong gut feeling that it was _____’s own doing.

Seeing the copious amount of blood they lost was already bad enough. Seeing the nasty wound itself when they had to change the bandages was worse.

Then as if that isn’t enough to send Cale into a coma, the healer had the audacity to stand up not even 12 hours after their injury.

It was at that moment the commander made a conscious choice of sticking the healer to him like velcro.

+~+~+~+~+~

Nowadays, Cale is not ping-ponging between his emotions like a madman. But he did notice that he tends to feel a particular emotion these days.

Jealo– Irritability

Cale isn’t sure why he feels irritated, but he does. He feels irritated as soon as _____ woke up and started talking to Bud.

What happened during the week he was gone that those two are all friendly now?

And what was that? Bud is going to teach _____ how to drink?

Not on Cale’s watch.

It’s one thing for him if _____ themself wants to try drinking, but he won’t let the healer be coerced by some fool.

“Ron, separate those two as much as possible. That drunkard is nothing but a nuisance to _____.”

For a moment Cale got the chills when he heard Ron chuckle. It doesn’t help that the kids are laughing too. Regardless, it looks like the servant will heed his request so he lets it be.

But his jea– irritability doesn’t end there.

The next victim of Cale’s so-called irritable mood was this poor servant in Mogoru.

When Cale got back to Mogoru he unfortunately had to leave _____ back in the castle. There are too many undercover missions they have to do. And while _____ is much better than Choi Han at undercover missions, that man is a lot of things but an actor is not one of them, Cale isn’t cruel enough to make them take on such a taxing mission after being sick.

So he leaves the healer in the Mogoru Castle with Rosalyn and the others. 

“Young master-nim what about assigning a dedicated servant for healer-nim?”

Was Rosalyn’s suggestion after Cale mentioned _____’s tendency to overwork themself.

It seemed like a good idea, therefore they arranged for the healer to have a servant. The servant’s job would consist of making sure the Medicus is eating and resting properly. That servant would also act as _____’s assistant, taking care of whatever the healer needs.

At that time, Cale was satisfied with that plan.

That satisfaction quickly changed when he visited Adin’s room, (well, it’s practically _____ and Cale’s room now) and saw how the healer kept calling the servant’s name. In the beginning, it was fine, Cale didn’t mind it. But then he noticed how _____ seems to call for that servant every 5 sentences they utter.

Honestly? Even Cale knows his acting irrationally this time.

Did he care though? Of course not. Since when did trash care for another person’s feelings?

So he stationed that servant far away.

“Raon make a call in the underground villa. I must talk to Hans”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Ignoring Hannah’s snickering that turned into full-blown laughter, Cale called Hans over to assist the healer.

Because if the healer is going to rely on someone who’s not Cale, then it might as well be one of his people.

This one is a totally logical decision on Cale’s end. It’s not because of his jea– irritability.

It’s definitely just part of him being responsible over _____.

[satorena]

༊*·˚ D!CK OFF LIMITS !?

bad ☆ summary. why won’t he let you suck his dīck?

warnings. explicit content. 18+. foul language. cunningulus. fīngerīng. premature ejacūlatīon. semi public sēx. usage of toys. facials. mirror sēx. dom/sub undertones. preestablished relationships. reader is a fiend for his dick. afab!reader. could be angsty at some point ? fwb to . . . lovers ? 7.4k words (kill me now).

rena's ☆ note. this idea came to me while i was drunk.

you wonder if gojo thinks you have gingivitis.

that thought was unlikely, as he was always eager to shove his tongue down your mouth, tongues sloshing and secreting saliva as his hands roamed between your thighs, knuckles deep into your cunt.

then maybe he assumed you were a biter— which would be highly hypocritical of him, as he’s known to get on his knees in the nearest bathroom stall and flip your skirt up, push your panties to the side and plunge his canines into the flesh of your ass before tongue fucking you.

well, maybe he simply didn’t get off on pleasing you— yeah you knew it wasn’t that one, if the way he thrusted his bulge in the air whenever your thighs wrapped around his head for relief every time he ate you out said anything.

you simply didn’t understand— what man would refuse receiving head after giving the nastiest of it?

your fingers clawed at a snowy pile of hair, back arched as you ground your hips into his mouth. he ate your pussy like a starved man, sloppy and coordinated, as his lips latched onto yours as if he’d die without your taste in his mouth

his tongue swiped up your juices as he lapped at your folds, dragging the top of his wet muscles against your core, nibbling at your puffy clit. gojo was on his knees, moaning like a slut in between your thighs as you used him to chase your orgasm.

“ngh, fuck— right there baby,” you mewled, toes curling as your back hit the cold wall of the bathroom stall. his hands gripped at your ass, caressing and squeezing the mounds to pull you in tighter than you’d already been. your mind felt hazy, so overcome with lust that you were ready to burst your dam down his throat. “oh m’ goddd, so fuckin’ close toruuu!”

“give it all t’me pretty baby,” his words come out muffled, only pulling away just slightly. his rosy lips are glossed your arousal and his saliva, a consistency so thick it connects a strand of fluid from your bottom lips to his own. his skin is blotched in lust, cerulean eyes dazed in awe. “cum in my mouth princess, needa taste you.”

your orgasm washes over you before you can even register it, a sensation so powerful you cry out as your dam erupts. splurges of your essence shoots from your cunt down to his mouth, and as you roll your eyes to the back of your skull, you notice so does he. his fingernails dig into the flesh of your skin, pinning you down as he humbly welcomes your cum.

“s’gooddd, shit toru!” you feel your bottom lip quivering, limbs twitching from overstimulation as he continues to ravish you. your groin tingles in heat, body weak as it succumbs to the pleasure gojo gives it. you feel weak, a feeling you’re never able to adapt to no matter how much he attempts to prepare you for it. “uhn uhn— too much, can’t take it!” your head shakes from side to side, nails clawing at his scalp as you attempt to push him away.

the pad of his fingers slip from your ass to snake in between your legs, spanking your wet pussy thrice to keep you in check, and your knees crumbles. gojo latches his lips at your clit once more, and you feel the world blackout. “stop that— fuckin’ take it baby. i know my good girl can take it.”

he leaves you no choice, eyes trailing upwards to land on your figure, the dip in your back so sinful that you feel as though both your bodies have merged into one. his tongue works so deep into you, it feels as though you’re both puzzle pieces that were made to connect to one another. your thighs are quivering around his head, and you feel your back slipping against the wall. shit.

“mmhm, nooo, ‘m gonna cum again!” you pout, tears built at your lash line now streaking down your cheeks. it’s all too much— the sensation so raw that you look for an escape. you want to push him off, to take a breather and regain your composure. but he’s looking at you with such expectations, eyes shimmering with eagerness as he lifts both your legs onto his shoulder for support.

he manhandles your body like it’s nothing— like you weigh nothing. your limp body now slides upwards, higher up in the air than you’d been a second ago. gojo rises to his full height and motorboats into your dripping cunt.

you wail out, head throw back against the stall as a desperate mouth gnaws at your folds. you’re sure he’s dripping from his mouth to his chin, a mixture of fluids so prominent that it dribbles down to the marble floor. “haaah, oh shit— baby, i can’t— fuck, y’eat my pussy sooo fuckin’ good!” the praises flow past your tongue so naturally, hands torn between pushing and pulling away from the painful pleasure. “nghhh, i— ‘m gonna— holy shit!”

your back hits the wall in waves of full body twitches, your cunt clamping down on his tongue as you weakly splurts drops of more cum. fat tears stain your cheeks, blood rushing hotly from head to toe, spraying gojo’s face in your essence.

“atta fuckin’ girl.” he groans into your pussy, almost more drunk on the taste of you than you are. he flicks his tongue up and down, dragging your orgasm as far as he can, completely enthralled by the desperate thrusts of your hips into his face. you’re smearing his face with your fluids, and from the fucked out look on your face— eyes crossed and tongue lolled out, he decides this might be the best way to go. “there we go— yeah baby, jus’ like that, mhmm.”

the timeline from your coming down to actually coming down to the floor is all blurry, but you’re barely able to stand on your two feet when you feel his hand cup at your chin tightly. his index finger raises your face to stare up at his, all moist from fluids and humidity but you don’t think he’s ever looked prettier.

his lips meet yours desperately, lips sloshing over one another as the taste of your cum now sits atop your taste pallets. his free hand snakes around your waist, holding you still as you lazily loop your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

he’s so good at it all— the nibbles of his teeth at your bottom lip making your legs go weak, stomach churning in more lust. he smells like a mixture of you and his expensive cologne— so satoru like, that you’re positive if this keeps going, you may blackout on the cold floor of this bathroom stall in the club.

he kisses you like he’s got something to prove, and eventually your lungs are filled with his provided oxygen, and you truly believe you’re going to pass out. you pull just slightly away, much to his disdain. he whines, tip of your noses just barely an inch away as you pant over his cupid’s bow. “fuck.”

“mmhm, that good?” gojo teases, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk you’re too familiar with. you don’t have it in you to flick his forehead.

instead, you opt with sighing. “that good.” your hands trail down his nape, nails grazing at the sensitive skin beneath his undercut, scratching and lightly pulling at his locks. he shudders at your touch, leaning forward to rest his sweat forehead against yours.

your touches lower from his shoulders down to his chest, grazing your fingers over his perky buds, teasing his nipples. he’s so touch starved, jaw slackened as he moans— breath warm as it fans your face. your hands begins to lower down to his hips, seductive touches that has him biting his lips, hips instinctively jerking to meet with your light grazing.

you keep steady eye contact with him as your hands finally land at his raging bulge. the material over his hard-on is damp in his pre cum, and it feels hot beneath your touch. with a slight tilt of your head, “lemme take care of you, toru.”

you can see him battling his own thoughts. his pupils widen in lust, orbs swimming in excitement as you palm his erection more precisely. he’s twitching beneath your cupped hand, humping against your palm as his throat erupts a desperate pant.

you wonder if today’s the day he’s finally going to let you see his dick— to let you swallow him whole and please him just as he does with you. you want to get on your knees and take him so far down your throat that tears build and you force gags back down. you’re sure he’s all pretty and pink, a length to match his abnormally tall height and girth ready to stretch your throat muscles.

but as always, just like the night before, he chuckles and shakes his head. he’s refusing you again, hands gripping at your waist to push you away from him.

“you know i can’t do that baby,” he sighs, a small smile appearing on his wet lips. you can tell he’s frustrated with himself, so unsure as the pad of his thumbs rub the bare skin of your waist. you jut your bottom lip in annoyance, although expecting his refusal. “maybe next time, yeah?”

you’re annoyed as you push him away, pushing your skirt back down so it falls down your ass. and you’re sure he notices too. you don’t object when he grabs the toilet paper from the stall to clean the left over mess between your thighs— though your arms do cross over the flimsy material of your tight top over your chest.

“mhm, sure.”

☆ ☆

about a week later, you’re on all fours on his annoyingly large king-sized bed, hands clawing at his sheets as you push your hips back into his fingers. he’s scissoring your cunt open, knuckles-deep in and every precise thrusts has you seeing stars.

“yesyesyes!” you nod your head feverishly, babbles slipping past your tongue and dribbling down the damp sheets beneath you. “oh m’god, feels sooo fuckin’ good, ngh!” there you sat naked and exposed, getting the life fucked out of you by his fingers alone, a length so impossible that you’re convinced his index and middle finger eventually bump your cervix with how deep he works himself into you.

gojo lands a few kisses at the back of your thighs, kneeled down at the edge of his bed as he twists his fingers into your cunt. he’s enamoured by the sloppiness of your tight pussy gripping at his digits so desperately, a squelching sound so harmonious it has him rubbing his own thighs against one another.

“face down, baby.” gojo commands, his free hand coming up to press at your lower back. you obey his order, pressing your cheek down against his sheets, arms silently thanking the man for the break of supporting your body up. you mewl when you feel him plunging his teeth into the soft skin of your ass, before running a wet tongue over the stinging pain. “there’s my good girl. heh, such an obedient lil’ thing.”

you lay pressed against his bed as you take his ruthless pounding, the tip of his fingers reaching the gummy spot that has stars dancing at the back of your eyelids. god, he always knew how to make a mess out of you— your body his temple, a book he’s dead over a million times and has learned to memorize.

“cute lil hole jus’ seems sooo enticing,” you feel the warmth of his breath fanning against your twitching rim, waves of warm air tickling the muscle. it doesn’t surprise you when you feel his wet tongue caressing your tight hole with light touches, just pushing slightly past unspoken boundaries. your stomach tightens the more relaxed he becomes, lapping from the bottom of your cunt up to your asshole, savouring you whole as he works himself into your clingy pussy.

“t-toru, oh yes baby— ‘m gonna cummm!” you whine, sobbing when your orgasm finally does catch up to you— as if he hadn’t already known. you walls clamp down on his fingers for dear life, folds twitching as they secrete your honeyed essence all over his hand and down to his sheets.

gojo never lets up, stringing along as he encourages you even further, “that’s it babyyyy, there we go.” drool slips past his kiss-bitten lips and down to your sopping wet cunt, tongue still working its way at the tightness of your forbidden hole. you look so fucking cute all shaken up, barely keeping yourself together as your moans echoes off his walls and fade into the stillness of the night.

he’s so fucking hard it hurts, but he’d take seeing you wrecked and ruined by his hands alone over the selfish tendencies of asking you to take care of him back. and he knew you’d known that already, if the way your body immediately lurches forward to melt into the sloth ess of silk sheets beneath you said anything.

you feel large hands grip at your thighs, trailing up before landing on your ass. he spreads apart your cheeks, sticky residue spreading your pussy lips with a sinful sound. you shiver, the cold breeze hitting your cunt a mix of overstimulated senses hitting at once.

he collects your liquids at the pad of his fingers, before wrapping his tongue around the digits. he nearly cums at your taste alone, “fuckkk, y’taste so fuckin’ sweet, princess.” and he pushes forward to drag his tongue along the evidence of your orgasm on your thighs, trailing up to the cleft of your ass and to your cunt, cleaning up after his mess.

you know better, and yet you still try anyway. with a shy tilt of your head, you look back to the starved man between your thighs and offer the prettiest smile you can, cheeks flushed in heat and lips glossed in saliva. “y’gonna let me take care of you yet?”

it doesn’t surprise you when he chuckles, releasing the fat of your cunt from his mouth with a nasty pop! to rise up to his full height, bending over your body to entrap yours within his arms. your back arches as you tilt your head backwards to meet his gaze, boobs pressed up together.

he stares at you with an unreadable expression, though the prominent dimple sitting in his cheek pops. “this was more than enough for me, ya little minx.”

☆ ☆

“if we get c-caught, i’ll fucking kill you.” you whisper, hands curling at the edge of his office desk. your eyes repeatedly darted towards the unlocked door, right before you, where anybody could walk into his office and see their boss on his knees for you during his lunch break, eating you out.

he pulls away with a dreamy sigh, a firm grip on your ass jiggling the cheek. “a man can’t enjoy his lunch in peace? not my fault ‘m starving.” there’s a filthy string of your essence and his saliva that connects from his lips to your lower ones.

“get real!” you hiss at him, despite the familiar feeling of heat licking at your limbs. “you asked me to bring your lunch and— ohhh!” your words soon die in your throat as your head rolls forward, and your bottom lip now tucked beneath your teeth. the warmth slide of his tongue at your clit has your nails scratching the surface of his desk, and your back curves into him.

“you worry too much,” gojo mumbles, before pressing a kiss to your pussy. he feels it throb against him, as he hums and runs the pad of his fingers against your messy folds. you shudder at the stimulation, your hips subconsciously grinding down on his fingers to follow his wavelength. with a smug smile, “see? at least yer pussy’s honest wimme— just lemme take care of her.”

“f-fucking bastard.” you grit through your teeth, though you make no objections. you could act high and mighty all you wanted, you never pushed him away whenever he offered to please you. it was almost like he solely got off on it— your pleasure alone. “i h-hate you.”

“love you too, princess.” he smirks, and you decide to brush off the tight squeeze at your heart at his words.

his tongue fucked into your hole yet again, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. you really couldn’t get enough of this— of him. you’d repay him your gratitudes if he’d let you. you’d push him back, lay him down and suck his dick eagerly if only he’d let you. you wonder the length of his cock, if it curves, how flushed his tip must get or how much pre leaks from his slit. you want it so bad, and fuck if only he’d let you. but,

he doesn’t.

he gives and gives but never takes. he’ll call you and tells you he’s in dire need of eating you out— of making you cum, and the minute you return the same energy, he finds an excuse to walk away. you’re slowly losing your mind— you crave the taste of him on your tongue, to hear how whiney he sounds once his tip hits the back of your throat, or how pretty he’d look with his eyes rolled to the back of his skull and hips thrusting uncontrollably into your mouth.

“toruuu,” you whine, tilting your head back. tears build in your eyes as they accumulate at your lash line. your bottom lip juts, a soft pout resting on your lips as you flutter your lashes at the man behind you. even with a mouth full of your pussy, his eyes never lie. “c’mon, lemme return the— ngh, favour,” you feel a beat of a pause at your words, and you egg it on further. “i know you’re rock hard. . . you c-can put it in, i won’t, mmhm—mind.”

he swears he cums. he swears he feels his balls tighten and release hot and thick strings of cum in his slacks, briefs tainted white with shame. you were going to be the death of him— you and your doe eyes, glossy lips and perky ass. it grows sticky between his thighs, but his hips twitch as his throat erupts a guttural groan.

“you can’t just fucking say that,” gojo whines, nuzzling his nose into the cleft of your ass. he’s whimpering against your skin, breath warm and moist as his panting grows heavier by the second. you shake your hips against his face, batting your full lashes, and he groans even louder. “you have no idea what you do to me—fucking hell.”

“enlighten me then.” you reach your hand out to fluff his pile of damp hair. he instinctively leans into your touch, peppering kisses all over your skin. you’d never thought you’d have the gojo satoru on his knees for you, demanding you let him please you. “let me suck your dick toru, ‘m real good at it.”

his breath hitches in his throat and you’re positive you’ve finally got him. he’s going to cave in and sit on his office chair, pull his pants down and let you handle his mess. he’s going to realize he’s wasted plenty of time pushing the idea away the second you swallow his length whole and—

“i’m sure you are,” gojo speaks, but you can tell there’s a but following. you sigh, and he offers a sheepish smile in return. “but you know ‘m good here. just wanna make you feel good— your pleasure is mine, i promise. trust me on that, yeah?”

all arguments are thrown out the window the instant his lips latch back onto your sloppy ones.

☆ ☆

“uhn uhn. . . ‘s too muchhh!” you whine, squirming in his lap in attempts to run away. your clit ached almost painfully, repeatedly abused by the vibrations of the toy gojo had stimulating. the soft hums of the vibrator echoed in the room in harmony with your pleads, but gojo was a sadist and unfortunately you might’ve been a masochist. “c-can’t cum anymore!”

“aweee, but of course you can!” he kisses the sensitive skin on your neck, before nuzzling his nose into the crook. his legs spread wider to further open your shaky ones, and his free hand cups at your breast. “you pussying out on me, baby?”

no, you were not. “of c-course not,” you muster to glare at him through the reflection of the mirror before you both. piercing blue eyes never left your body for a second, drinking up every reaction you had to offer him. you nearly felt . . . shy at his gaze. “just hurts a little, fuckkk, you mean b-bitch.”

“mmhm.” gojo nods, fingers tweaking at the buds of your stiff nipples. he rolls the bud between his knuckles, drawing out broken moans out of you as the consistent buzz of the vibrator at your pussy doesn’t let up. he presses another kiss, at your temple, “you’re my good girl, i don’t expect otherwise.”

you bite your lip, cheeks flushing in what feels like embarrassment. him and his damn praises. he knows what he’s doing to you, rosy lips tugging into that smirk as his facial expression scream smug. you wish you could punch the bastard right in the face, but that thought is quickly gone when he pinches hard at your tits.

“shittt,” you mewl, grinding your hips down on his. you feel his bulge poking at your ass— so hard and prominent, proof of his arousal. his lap is drenched in your juices, evidence of multiple rounds seeping into the material of his sweatpants. “so fuckin’ good, hnng, you’re sooo fuckin’ good to me.” you raise an arm to grab at the base of his neck, threading your fingers through his soft locks.

you ooze sex appeal, everything you do and say so erotic, and gojo is easily your slave. “yeah?” he mumbles into your skin, though he looks at your reflection through snowy lashes. your back arches sinfully, ass pressed so snuggly against his lap and your pussy leaking buckets worth of cum. “tell me, what else am i?”

the vibrator attacking your clit has your left leg shaking uncontrollably, the knot in your stomach quickly tightening. you chew on your bottom lip, eyelids resting shut as you focus on spewing your next words, carefully selecting them. you can’t help the chuckle that reaches your mouth instead of a moan, “a bitch.”

“oh?” gojo cocks an eyebrow, another chuckle now audible despite it not coming from you. he drags the vibrator down your slippery folds and all the way back up to your clit, and you tighten your hold on his hair. “those weren’t supposed to be your next words, sweetheart.”

“y-you’re a bitch,” you continue regardless, and gojo can’t deny he’s attracted to you for your sheer audacity. he’s always been a fiend for a good challenge. “won’t even let me give you head— ngh, thought i was the one with a pussy.”

“you’re wounding my ego here,” gojo slides his hand from your tits and trail it all the way up to your mouth. he spreads your lips with two fingers, before hooking them at the corner of your mouth. “callin’ me a pussy? that’s a low blow, baby.”

you squint at him through the foggy mirror, applying pressure to the bulge poking at your ass. you smile when he groans into your ear, “you got a small dick or somethin’? gotta say— fuck, s-sure doesn’t feel like you do.” you throw your head back onto his shoulder, lips grazing over the shell of his ear, “should i check for myself? hnng, see if satoru owns a pussy?”

there’s a click in the air and suddenly the humming of the vibrator stops. finally. had you finally blown his fuse? ironically, your clit secretes more liquid as the idea of him finally pulling his pants off and dicking you down comes to mind. once his pride deflates, he does whatever he can to prove otherwise.

you’re sure you’ve got him.

“heh, you’ve got some nerve.” gojo snorts, and you don’t register how he’s manhandle you to the floor, hands holding your entire upper body steady as your thighs now wrap around his shoulders. the position has your back arched like a cat, and you raise your head up to watch him confusedly through the glass mirror.

two firm hands grip at your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he licks his lips hungrily, “it’s lookin’ like you’ll never know.” he bares his fangs at you, and you sigh before he feasts again.

☆ ☆

it doesn’t feel right. none of it does. it’s nowhere remotely near cheating, and yet, as this man litters your neck and chest with loving kisses, you feel your stomach churning in guilt.

here he is, offering himself to you, willing to give you what you’d been deprived off since you’d started your arrangement with gojo— willing to rock your world, bump hips and coax an penetrative orgasm out of you— but all you could think about was how wrong this all felt.

though a pleasant smell, these sheets don’t smell like him. they don’t feel like him either. instead of wide cerulean eyes and untamed white hair is stern brown eyes and kept blonde hair. where should be blotches of red on flawless skin is stress lines infused skin.

you felt awful, burning touches trailing between your thighs instead of that electricity that had your stomach twisting with butterflies.

“is everything alright?” the man pulls away from your legs, and questions. he’s so kind, willing to ask how you’re feeling in the midst of it all, and all you can think about is gojo.

no, nothing’s fine. “yeah, i’m good.” you lie, offering a smile. you’re a good liar, and it seems he falls for your words as he proceeds, pushing your panties to the side and works his tongue into you.

his movements are calculated and measured, paying attention to all areas of your cunt. he eats you out good, there’s no denying so, has your toes curling and back arching off his mattress. you lower your hand to tighten his locks, but even that feels wrong— it’s not as fluffy as gojo’s. you think you feel hair gel between your knuckles.

your mind runs a mile an second, overwhelmed by the sole idea that you were offering your body to another man. gojo wasn’t yours— not in the slightest, and yet, as he sucked on your clit and gripped at your thighs, your chest felt unreasonably tight.

you couldn’t do this any longer.

“wait— wait, please stop.” you push his head away, bottom lip quivering. he pulls away instantly, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to your cunt. you feel sick at the confused look on his face. “i can’t— i can’t do this. i’m so sorry.”

the man stares at you for a moment, though never maliciously, and you feel like wanting to crawl into a hole. he nods his head, before pushing your panties back to where they belong, and pushes himself up. silence fills the air for a while, and you’re holding back tears. you’re not sure why, though.

“it’s gojo, isn’t it?” he asks, though he’s not posing a question. he knows, surely everybody knows that you belong to him in both body and soul, but this has only been a recently found discovery for you.

your silence speaks volumes, and the man nods once more.

“yeah, that’s what i thought too.”

☆ ☆

to say he was surprised was definitely an understatement. he wasn’t expecting you to show up at his place, despite already having given you a key to his apartment.

you barged through his bedroom door, a location you were already too familiar with and unknowingly had become so accustomed to. your chest is heaving as if you’d ran a marathon before showing up here, and he wants to kiss the pout off your lips. “pants off, now.”

gojo rises from his bed to stand at his full height, a surprised smile stretching onto his face. “woah, at least take me out on a date first! i’m not just some whore.” his hands comically rise up in surrender, and your frown deepens.

“why won’t you let me give you head?” you ask him before you can even process your choice of wording. when his brows jump to his hairline at your boldness, you feel your face warm in embarrassment. “i mean seriously— am i the problem?”

“what?” gojo blinks, taking quick strides towards your fuming self. he shakes his head feverishly, “no, that’s not it at all—”

“then why do you keep rejecting me?” you cut him off, crossing your arms over your chest. you probably look and sound desperate, but the truth is you were. the first few times could be deemed funny, but there’s so much rejection a girl can take before it starts to become an insecurity. “why do you keep pushing me away? am i that unattractive to you?”

you’d never seen him look so panicked in his life. had it been under any other circumstance, you woulda laughed at the way his pupils blew widely and how his hands started waving all over the place, “no! jesus, are you kidding me— have you seen yourself? what sane man would think that—”

“what sane man wouldn’t want sex?” you bite back, and he’s taken aback. you see it in the way the words in his mouth die down, the way his body stills just slightly, the way his arms drop to his sides. you continue, “what sane man wouldn’t want head? what sane man solely focuses on pleasing a woman and not himself—”

“hey,” gojo frowns. “any sane man would aim to please his partner first and foremost.”

“well usually sane men accept the favour when offered back to them!” you counter, and once more, gojo was cornered into the wall. he remained quiet, an ideaology uncharacteristic to a man like himself, and waited for you to get it off your chest.

“it’s just. . .” you sigh, licking your lips. and he watches you, intently. you’re almost too embarrassed to say it, but enough was enough. “i just don’t get it! i’m thinking it’s because i’m unattractive to you but—”

“i’ve literally came in my pants from eating you out.” he interrupts, raising an eyebrow. your face deadpans as does his. he’s dead serious too. oh that bastard, “multiple times, may i add. try again.”

“then it has to be you think i’m dirty.” you assume, and he tilts his head to the side with an expression that screams ‘seriously’. your annoyance builds up the more he looks at you like you’re crazy for him denying you of his pleasure. “i can assure you i’m clean— i’m not some fucking whore.”

“and i can assure you that thought has never once crossed my mind.” gojo snorts, body language now looser. his hands sit in the pockets of his sweats, a taunting smile on his lips. “what’s the next excuse?”

“oh that’s rich coming from you,” you sneer, poking your finger at his chest. he snorts again, and you feel like you’re about to lose your mind. “what else could it possibly be? you’re so fucking confusing, toru, i have no idea what goes on in your mind!”

“you, all the time.” gojo shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing. he says it as if you asked him if the sky was blue or if grass was green. “you go through my mind all the time. it’s that simple, really.”

“stop the bullshit, satoru.” you frown, pinching the bridge of your nose. your head was starting to ache, and you’d come for closure on this torment, but of course he had to stretch it out.

“but i’m being so serious?” he tilts his head. “it really is just you. you don’t think i want your lips wrapped around my cock? to feel how tight your pussy would be around me? seriously?”

“then why don’t you let me?!” you sigh exasperatedly, throwing your arms in the air. you didn’t understand this at all— you were both on the same page here, so why didn’t he let you? was he ashamed or something?

he goes quiet again, and you’re contemplating on storming out of his room. you give him a few seconds to collect his thoughts, to decide on whether he wants to finally tell you the truth or find another plausible excuse that would have you drive back home.

there’s this look of embarrassment all over his face, his eyes unable to look at you. he scratches the corner of his mouth, lips tugging into a sheepish smile. “i’m. . . scared. kinda.”

you blink at him. “wait— are you a virgin?”

“no!” he immediately defends himself, and you raise an eyebrow at his sudden eagerness. he waves his hands around again to affirm his statement, “i’m not!”

“so. . . you’re a slut?” you ask instead, and he face palms himself. the nerve he had, to face palm himself when he’s giving you the faintest of clues. what were you supposed to understand from that alone?

“y/nnnn!” he drags out your name childishly, the skin of his cheeks flushed a bright pink. he hides his face in the palms of his hands, as if to cower himself away from this discussion. you think the sight is cute actually— a grown man shy about his sex life. how ironic.

“just spit it out.” you tut and he peels his hands away from his face. your eyes narrow as you wait on his answer, watching him fidget with his fingers and shy his gaze away from you. the wall at your side had to be so damn interesting if he couldn’t hold eye contact with you.

you sigh, “i promise i won’t make fun of you.”

your word alone seems to offer some sort of comfort. his lips part to speak, but it feels like an eternity and a half before words finally come out. “i. . . i don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of you.”

now you’re confused. “whadya mean?”

he grumbles, lips falling into that pout he does whenever he doesn’t get something done his way. there’s a crease in his brows, a frown so deep you’re worried you said something wrong.

“i didn’t want to give you the ick, okay?” gojo finally sputters, the blush on his cheeks now spreading down the base of his neck. he can feel his heartbeat thudding excessively loud against his rib cage, and his hands are starting to get moist.

woah, he must be really embarrassed. but about what? was he insecure about his penis?

“why would you give me the ick, toru?” you speak slowly, not wanting to scare him off. you take a step closer to him when you notice he took one back, resting a gentle hand on his bicep. your thumb rubs at his skin in what you hope is a soothing manner.

his eyes shift from the wall to your gentle touch. his bottom lip quivers and he takes in a big breath, before redirecting his gaze on you.

“because you’re you and i’m me!” he starts off, as if ready to confess everything. you take it as a good sign however. “it’s you we’re talking about— god, you’re so pretty and sexy and kind, and so attractive it fucking hurts— i’ve literally busted to your taste alone! i’m so fucking whipped it’s embarrassing. i literally think about you all the time— in bed, in the car, in the shower— i think about how good you smell and how sweet you taste and how addictive your smile is! all i have to do is think about you and i’m instantly hard— i’m like a fucking dog you trained!”

for once today, you’re left speechless.

“and- and,” he continues, “i had to master self-control. me, satoru gojo, had to learn to hold myself back. do you know how many times i’ve nearly folded? hm? how many times i almost caved in and damn near ripped your clothes off with my teeth? you’ve turned me into an animal! i’ve wanted you for an eternity, but i know myself— i wouldn’t last a second with my dick in your mouth! that’s what i’m scared of, i’m scared of embarrassing myself to you and you’ll run off or something and i’ll end up rotting and dying alone from embarrassment and—”

“okay, okay.” you hold a hand up to cut off his rant. he was starting to babble, and soon he would flow into an inescapable hole of self-wallowing. “i think i get it now.”

he’s breathing heavy, pupils blown wide. his lips are quivering and you can tell he’s really anxious of your answer. you’d never seen him so shaken, as if your next words would make or break his entire world.

well, here goes nothing. “i hooked up with another man.” you think you heart his heart shatter in his chest. his face goes slack as does his body, and he immediately reverts his eyes away from yours.

“oh.”

you realize you could’ve started a bit differently. “it didn’t really go far, because i was so preoccupied thinking about you.” you sigh shakily. “everything felt wrong, even when i tried convincing myself it wasn’t, but i couldn’t help but think of you, even with another man around.”

gojo remains quiet, and you’re not even sure where you’re going with this. what are these feelings you’re feeling?

“listen, i don’t know what that guilt was but i know i never want to feel it again.” your hand proceeds to run at his skin. he hasn’t pushed you off yet, so you’re hoping it’s working. “this whole time i was thinking i was unappealing to you, and you’re afraid of flattering me?”

gojo shoots his head up at that, “flattering you?”

you snort, loving the dumb look on his face. he didn’t have a fucking clue, did he? “do you have any idea what that would do to my ego? knowing i was able to make you nut off of head alone?”

“heyyy, don’t go using it against me!” he whines, pouting. “’s your fault anyway— how is somebody that perfect? i don’t get it, you’re genuinely unreal. i almost don’t like it.”

well he surely knew a way around with his words. you giggle, sliding the hand around his bicep up to the back of his neck. your other arm mimics, as your fingers card through his undercut. you can feel him shuddering beneath your touch, and he instinctively cups at your waist.

“now that i know your reasoning, i’m not gonna pressure you into anything you don’t wanna do.” you stare him up through your lashes. you weren’t sure how you didn’t see it before, but now they everything is clear, you swear you see hearts swimming in his orbs. cute. “but, you wouldn’t scare me off, toru. i can’t believe i’m saying this but i might be stuck with you— you say you’re a trained dog, then what does that make me? thought about you while another man ate me out.”

he frowns at that. oops. “he wasn’t better than me. . . was he?”

“never.” you shake your head, and feel the way his shoulders sag in relief. “and if it makes you feel better, we didn’t kiss and i never gave him a blowjob.”

he’s still pouting, but his nose scrunches in the way he does when he wants you to drown him with attention. when had you start noticing these details? “it does. . . i guess.”

“toruuu, you have to forgive me.” it’s your turn to pout, nails scraping at his scalp as your lashes flutter. you rise to the tip of your toes to plant a soft kiss on his lips— lustless. there’s a soft smack that separates both your pair of mouths, and you see the corner of his mouth threaten to twitch into a smile. his hold on your waist tightens and pulls you in closer. “want me to show you just how sorry am i?”

“mhm,” he mumbles, eyes stuck on the plumpness of your lips. he wants them back on his, and that’s exactly what he does, leaning forward to seal another chaste kiss. when he does pull away, it’s just slightly, tips of your noses still grazing one another. he bumps noses with yours, “prove it t’me.”

your cheeks feel like they’ll split with how widely you’re smiling, but that ends as soon as it came, when he lunges forward to kiss you again.

his jaw slacks as he ravishes your lips, tongues sloshing as he releases pretty moans into your mouth. you fed him everywhere— his tongue dancing at the roof of your mouth, his hands caressing your ass, the rhythm of his heartbeat through his chest vibrating against your own.

you walk forwards, lips never leaving his, as his steps move backwards. he tastes as sweet as always, a faint cherry flavour resting on his taste buds. soon enough he’s laid on his back on his own bed with you hovering him, your thighs resting at his sides. his hands grip at the meat on your legs.

“‘m gonna make you feel so good,” you pull away from his lips and trail your hand down his torso, all the way to his briefs’ waistband. “you’ve never had anything like it.” surely enough, he’s harder than he’s ever been, the outline of his cock seeping through the material of his pants. your hand slides lower to cup at the bulge, feeling up on his dick through your fingers, and he whines into your mouth, hips thrusting up into your touch.

“p-please, i’m— oh fuckkk,” he begs, moans croaking out of his throat as you slip your hand into his underwear. your touches are light, wanting to tease him as you collect endless beads of pre cum at the tip of your fingers. his hips never cease to buck into your palm, desperate for more.

“enough waiting, hm?” you tug down at his undergarments, and immediately get slapped in the face. his dick is nothing to scoff at— you’d only seen and felt it through the material of his pants, but now that it was bare and right before your eyes? his length had nothing on your imagination. with a pretty pink mushroom tip, vein throbbing on the underside, heavy balls and a cute curve to the left, his dick undoubtedly had your mouth watering.

he’s twitching sans cease, as if it had a mind of its own.

“can’t believe you were holding out me, toru,” you lick your lips, laying flat on your own stomach, between his legs. he’s pushed up on his elbows, watching as you stroke his cock languidly. “you’re so mean.” your fists tightens at the top of his cock, thumb rubbing at his oozing slit, before loosening your hold as you lower to the base.

he gulps, hands scrunching at the duvets beneath him. you’re giving him these eyes, and your fleeting touches on his dick will surely have him lose his mind. “stop teasing meee, i’ll—nghh!” you kiss the tip of his cock,

and in the blink of an eye, he cums. your eyes shut as ropes of hot, white cum shoot at your face, from all different kinds of directions. he cums, and it’s a lot. it almost feels never ending, as does his cries. his back arches and his hips hump the air, cock twitching uncontrollably as it erupts.

“oh nooo— shit, ngh, fuck— can’t help it!” veins bulge in his forearm with how intensely he’s gripping onto the covers. you think it’s rather adorable, how easily overwhelmed he gets.

it takes a lifetime for his high to come down. and through it all, you’re pumping at his cock, milking him for what he has to offer. silently of course, you’re not even sure he’d be able to hear anything you have to say with how vocal he is.

when it all becomes too much, he starts shivering from oversensitivity, and his cock jumps weakly. you pull your hand away, and his dick falls onto his lower stomach. he’s breathing heavily, head thrown back as you clean the cum off your face. you pop a finger in your mouth, he tastes sweet. “hm.”

“just,” gojo pauses, taking another deep breath in. the ceiling must be real interesting for him. “just go on with it. but don’t say i didn’t tell you so.”

you smirk, now popping the finger out of your mouth with a wet plop! “you really weren’t kidding.”

hmm can anybody guess who the “mystery man” you hooked up with is ? 🌚

[cold-kitty]

Due to very, very high demand for part two of my Yan!Mermaid (looks at my notifications and cries), here it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Contains: NSFW, dub-con, same warnings as the last one other than that

Yan!Mermaid who starts clinging to your leg as you sigh, so happy that you're giving him another chance.

Yan!Mermaid who watches your hand signals and listens to your foreign words, not understanding a thing but tries to listen for your sake.

Yan!Mermaid who forces himself not to straddle you when he sits next to you, his tail swaying slowly behind him.

Yan!Mermaid who watches you fish all day, just enjoying your presence.

Yan!Mermaid who pouts and whines and clings to you when you try to leave. no no no no no! don't leave! i don't wanna be alone! stay with me, i promise to keep you warm!

Yan!Mermaid who tries to climb into the trunk of your car, and somehow manages.

Yan!Mermaid who happily slides out of your truck when you arrive home, smiling wide.

Yan!Mermaid who's surprised when you don't seem happy too. you look mad, but you suck it up and groan.

Yan!Mermaid who doesn't like how you put him in a tank with the fish you caught, he wants to sleep in your bed!

Yan!Mermaid who climbs out of the tank when you're asleep and crawls across the floor to your room, curling up in bed with you.

Yan!Mermaid who lets his mind wander to when he was grinding against you, how good it felt. y-your skin is so w-warm and soft... a-ah...

Yan!Mermaid who is immediately worked up again, pressing himself against you tight.

Yan!Mermaid who lets his hands greedily trail over you, gently squeezing your thighs and watching the flesh bounce back into place.

Yan!Mermaid who hesitantly pulls down your pants. he promises himself that he's just looking, but he can't resist the temptation. s-so pretty...

Yan!Mermaid who starts by squishing the flesh of your ass, watching it jiggle. he continues to do that for a while, almost mesmerized. he loves watching you squirm in your sleep too.

Yan!Mermaid who sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them wet.

Yan!Mermaid who starts by pushing one finger into you, slowly so he doesn't hurt you. he watches how your unconscious body squirms and reacts to the intrusion.

Yan!Mermaid who slowly pushes another finger into you, but that wakes you up. you look behind you almost immediately, a horrified look on your face.

Yan!Mermaid who expects you to hurt him, staring at you with wide and fearful eyes. he starts moving his fingers nonetheless, hoping that it might calm you down, twisting and curling them with slight hesitation. oh please don't hate me! you're just so irresistible!

Yan!Mermaid who watches as your body starts to quiver softly, your head falling back into the pillow. you were giving up to the pleasure, even if reluctantly.

Yan!Mermaid who feels encouraged, his fingers thrusting fasted, twisting and curling them to his hearts content. he makes sure to get real close to you so he can hear all of your soft whimpers and moans. a-ah... keep making those sounds... so cute...

Yan!Mermaid who keeps this up until you cum, and oh my God is he so happy. he watches as you convulse softly, pulling his fingers out and licking them. he doesn't mind if it's nasty if it's you.

Yan!Mermaid who lowers himself down and starts licking up the cum that fell onto the bed.

Yan!Mermaid who pats your back reassuringly as he positions himself behind you, helping you out though the whole thing. stroking your hair, praising you in his language, kissing every inch of your body, going as slow as he can.

Yan!Mermaid who cuddles you the whole night after that, kissing you softly. he's so happy, so fucking happy. he finally got to mate with you like a real lover, even if it was only one short round.

(BONUS NSFW: Yan!Mermaid definitely does analingus, %100. Yan!Mermaid puts your needs and wants before his, if he wants to go fast and you want to go slow he goes slow. he hates seeing you in crying, so he refuses to overstimulate you, nothing rough or degrading, and he doesn't dare leave marks on you. Yan!Mermaid AFTERCARE, SO MUCH OF IT.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Does anyone know how mermaid dick works? Like honestly, how. Is it in the tail? Just hanging out there? HOW!?

~🐈‍⬛

[eternalsunrise]

shower talk.

deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader

wc: 750 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)

notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me

wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.

unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.

you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.

you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.

you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”

“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“

“i fucking hate men.”

you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”

you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.

“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”

you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.

you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”

you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”

your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“

a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.

“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”

when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)

you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.

[dcxdpdabbles]

For Danny, gravity is a suggestion, but when he's human he prefers to feel ground under his feet while he's thinking. This leads to him often not realising he's started walking on the wall or ceiling when he's lost in thought or otherwise distracted.

Tim's definitely normal human friend Danny, pacing on the ceiling during his third visit at Wayne manor: [ranting about something, probably defending his love of weird flavour combo milkshakes]

The Batfam, silently debating how they're gonna break it to Danny that he's a meta: ........

Tim's eyes follow Danny as he starts pacing around the table, his homework abandoned on the table. His voice is becoming sharper, and his words are strung together more as he continues. He noticed that he became less aware of his surroundings when his friend started going on his rants.

Watching Danny's body language become slightly less human was fascinating. It started with his eyes—if Danny felt angry, they would glow green. Tim always knew when to cut back on his teasing whenever he saw the flash of green, no matter how brief the green was.

When Danny rants about something that upsets or makes him sad, his voice gains a particular echo. It is almost as if he is slowly walking into a cave.

There were times when Danny got excited or happy; his hair would start to puff up slightly. This reminded Tim of when he would rub a balloon on his hair to study the positive and negative charges.

Danny's hair didn't flout straight up, but it was electric enough to be noticeable if you paid enough attention.

It was as if his emotions affected his physical form like a mood ring. Tim could always tell what Danny felt by watching for the little effects.

All these little things were easy to hide. Most people noticed less than Tim did, but there was one little quirk Danny did that was rather hard to miss.

"What if we talked about the effect of well-lit street lights on crime rates?" Danny asked, striding up to a wall and casually pacing on it. He continued to think out loud, with his eyes closed, as he made loops on the ceiling. Tim needed to pay more attention to the subject of their presentation, but he was somewhat distracted by how Danny's hair and shirt defied gravity.

They stayed perfectly in place as if his friend were still on the ground and not upside down. Tim wondered if his powers were less flying and more gravity-shifting.

It would also explain his lower degree of super strength if he could manipulate gravity. (Tim didn't care what Danny claimed in gym class. No regular human could lift two punching bags like nothing, especially for something as casual as cleaning up)

Or maybe he was able to move in a fifth direction. From his perspective, while Tim was stuck in 3D, Danny could move in the fourth and walk on the ground. It would explain why he didn't notice he had stepped on the walls or ceiling. To Danny, he never left the floor.

"No, that wouldn't work," Danny mutters, making loops around the chandelier. "What if we...but then that would mean...."

Tim couldn't make out most of his words, but that was fine. Danny also tended to mutter under his breath when he was deep in thought.

He cranks his neck back, eyes tracing the way Danny seemed to strut around as if he was out for a walk on a nice sunny day in the park. Carefully, making sure Danny was too distracted by his thoughts, Tim aimed his camera phone at him.

He takes a few photos and then opens the family group chat.

Tim: I need advice on gently telling a friend something that may change our friendship. I've tried to say it to him before but he doesn't seem to get it.

Jason: buy him some flowers and write him a poem. He'll love it.

Steph: That's terrible advice, Jay. No one does that anymore

Jason: No one has class anymore, you mean. Besides, boys deserve to be romanced, too.

Dick: Just tell him how you feel, Tim! Be direct and make sure you use the words "I like you romanticly." Sometimes people don't understand you're asking them out.

Damian: Do not bother me with your failed courtships.

Duke: Maybe don't go as far as Jay said, but Dick's right. You have to say, "Go on a date with me" or something.

Steph: Try the bend and snap! It's Elle Woods-approved!

Tim: No, that's not what this is about. I need help telling Danny he might be a metahuman with Superman-level Power.

There is a long pause before his phone vibrates again.

Damian: I beg your finest pardon?

Bruce is typing.....

Tim: He's friendly! He just has yet to notice that what he does isn't regular.

Jason: Wait, isn't Danny that kid we saw you at the ice ring with? The one that snuck up on Cass by accident?

Tim: Yes

Multiple people are typing.....

Tim briefly glances up to see what Danny is up to, and he is surprised that Frost has started developing in his footsteps. That's certainly new. He attached the photos to the chat, sending them off as Danny slowly floated back down.

He watches as his friend flips horizontally in mid-air so that he's standing upright when he lands. His hair is starting to puff up again, so he is not surprised when Danny's eyes snap open with a gleeful glint in them.

"I figured it out, Tim!"

"That's great," Tim tells him with a smile as Danny eagerly returns to his seat. He is babbling about the solution to their government class and how he knows he can get their proposed bill passed with the correct narrative.

Tim watches frost develop around his pencil and chair. Fascinating. Does that mean excitement? He almost forgets about the family group chat while attempting to figure out what emotion Danny is experiencing to connect to frost that he missed a few messages.

Bruce: Tim, where are you?

Bruce: he made Cass jump because she didn't hear or see him coming. That's worrisome.

Bruce: He could be dangerous

Bruce: Where are you

Bruce: Tim, answer me

Bruce: Timothy Jackson Drake, answer the phone right now

Dick: Oooooohhhh middle name

Damian: They are in the left-wing dining room, Father. I already have a visual on them.

Damian sent a photo of two teenage boys sitting at a table, bending over to look at a book together. Papers and pencils are scattered around the stranger while Tim's trusted laptop is in front of his part.

Bruce: Good. Keep them in sight at all times and report any suspicious behavior.

Damian: Naturally.

Steph: No DNA test is needed

Duke: Literally.

Cass: I am confused. I thought we all knew Tim's boyfriend was not human?

Jason: We did not, in fact, know that Cass.

Cass: It is obvious by the way he moves that Danny is not a meta-human. He is close to one, but he moves like a different being. He reminds me of Captain Marvel.

Multiple people are typing......

[alpaca-clouds]

Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

[mavigator]

i talked about it a little bit already but i have things to say about it. for context, i was born with amniotic band syndrome. the amniotic band wrapped around my left wrist in utero and stunted the growth of my hand. i was born with about half a palm, four nubs for fingers, and a twisted half of a thumb. i can open and close my thumb and pinkie joint like a claw.

yesterday at work i had a shift in the room with 5-10 year old kids. i had my left hand hidden in my sleeve (a bad habit of mine). a kid asked if he could see my hand, and even though internally i was debating running into traffic, i said “sure you can” and showed him my hands. he stared for a moment, looking disturbed, and then said “i don’t want to look at that anymore”. that hurt to hear, but i understand that kids are new to the world and he probably didn’t mean it out of malice. i put my hand away again, told him that it was okay, and that i was just born that way.

he then went on to talk about how he knows a kid with a similar hand to mine and called it “ugly”. i told him that wasn’t a very kind thing to say and that he wouldn’t feel good if someone said that to him, and he replied that no one would say that to him—because he has “normal hands”, and he’s glad he does because otherwise he’d be “ugly”. i tried to talk with him for a bit about how everybody is born differently, but he just started talking about a girl he knows with a “messed up face” and pulled on his face to make it look droopy. i went on some more about how it wasn’t very kind to talk about people that way, but the conversation moved on to something else.

i’ve told my supervisors about it and they’re going to have a talk with his mom. what i wanted to say is this: i’m genuinely not upset with the kid. kids are young and naturally curious, and he clearly simply hasn’t been taught about disabled people and kind ways to speak to/about others. which is why i am upset with his parent(s). i know he’s encountered visibly deformed/disabled people before (he said so himself!), yet his parent(s) clearly haven’t had any kind of discussion with him about proper language and behavior. i knew from birth that some people were just different than others, but my parents still made a point to assert to be kind to and accepting of others. i wonder if adults in his life are the type of people to hush him and usher him away when he points out someone in a wheelchair. that kind of thing doesn’t teach politeness. it tells children that disabled people are an Other than can’t be acknowledged or spoken about; which, to a child, means disability must be something bad.

i’m lucky enough that this was a relatively mild incident, and that i’m a grownup with thicker skin. i’m worried about the other kids he mentioned to me. has he been talking to them this way? when i was a kid, i had other kids scream, cry, and run away at the sight of my hand. or follow me around pointing at me and laughing at me. or tell me i couldn’t do something because i was ugly or incapable or whatever. one time a girl at an arcade climbed to the top of the skeeball machine, pointed at me, and screamed at me to put my hand away and wouldn’t stop crying until she couldn’t see me anymore. another time, a kid saw my hand, screamed at the top of her lungs, and ran into my friend’s arms, crying hysterically about how i was scaring her. that second incident made me cry so hard i threw up when i got home. i can kind of laugh it off now, but having people react to me that way as a child is something i’m still getting over. why do you think i have a habit of keeping my hand in my sleeve? it just irritates me to see children that have clearly not been taught basic manners and kindness—their parents Clearly missed something pretty important .

[mell0wjello]

𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓫𝓮?

How would the NRC boys fall for their beloved prefect?

! ���𝒸𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 !

~~~~~~

𝓐𝔃𝓾𝓵 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸

The poor boy. He was so confused

He had no idea what it was at first

It’s not like your grades were anything remarkable and you were completely magicless. Completely average, so why were you so alluring?

Even worse, you were completely throwing him off

Azul was incredibly skilled at concealing his intentions and emotions, but you seemed to be immune to it

His eye would twitch slightly, and the corners of his mouth would tug gently at his cheeks. His eyes wavered before you and his pupils dilated

The tweels are subjected to all his rants about you

That look you gave him in class, the thing you said to him in the hall, the way your eyes lifted when you smiled, and how your laugh lit up the room. How dare you?

Jade and Floyd gave each other a knowing look. They know.

Everyone does.

The prefect was the only one who was able to peel away Azul's composure, it didn't take long for people to realize Azul's predicament

Azul's favorite part about you is your thighs. He won't admit it, but he loves how squishy they look.

His main love language is physical touch. He really needs a hug, and he rarely gets physical affection due to his cold exterior (even though he really needs it)

You were almost always the one to initiate contact because most of them time he’d be too much of a fumbling mess to approach you

Azul didn’t completely understand the feeling. He thought it wasn’t anything beyond healthy rivalry between you two. But sometimes, he’d think about what it’d be like to hold your hand. To walk with you to class. He didn’t really understand it, but he knew it was there

Since Azul was not usually the one to approach you first, you were encouraged by the tweels to go up to him instead.

You approached him in Mostro Lounge, where you guys would usually talk. You chose a convenient time, when the lounge was almost completely empty, and Azul would be working in his study

If you decide to clear the air and express your disinterest, there will a flash of clear disappointment in Azul’s face before he does his best to cover it up. He’ll try to convince himself there is nothing to be too upset about because he hasn’t had time to process. He’d avert his gaze in the halls and act more passive towards you. Being too close will just undo everything he tried to cover.

If instead, you decide to plant a kiss on his cheek, Azul couldn't be happier. He'd be caught off guard by the sudden gesture unable to form a coherent sentence, although showing no sign of disagreement.

Behind the door, Jade and Floyd knew that they had succeeded in their wingman service

Azul would be quite shy at first, but as time went on, he'd become much more confident. This was all very new to him after all.

Expect him to take you out to NICE dinner. He knows all the best spots. Especially in his hometown.

It did take him more time to show you his merform, but he was always assured that you'd never judge him. He's grown way more used to it by now and lets you see it regularly

His favorite spot to kiss you in is the thighs (no surprise there). They are as squishy as they looked, and so very plush against his lips.

His favorite spot to be kissed is his jaw. It feels very intimate to him and this gives him a lot of security and comfort, knowing how close you two are

𝓙𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓱

Hmm, love?

Is it? Not quite

Although, Jade does admit to how much he enjoys teasing you during and outside of class

But it's purely because of your reactions! How entertaining they are

He could look at the puff of your cheeks and the quirk of your brow all day

All while giving you that condescending smirk

And yet, his demeanor flips when you two are alone

Out on hikes, he'd often catch himself spacing out on your profile

He'd stare for a while, but never long enough to let you catch him

Although the expressions you made when he teased you would always amuse him, he liked the natural ones that you made unconsciously best.

The concentrated look in your eyes as you do Crewel's homework, the small part of your lips when you're paying attention to Trein's lesson, and the light small that always creeps up to your lips when you see him

It's fascinating to see how telling your visage can be

You are so easy to read, yet you are always full of surprises for him

He catches himself wanting more. To spend more time with you, to go on further hikes with him. He'd love to take you around his hometown for the sake of hanging out with you.

Floyd noticed right away when Jade was acting a little more cheery than usual. Call it a Tweel 6th sense if you will

Jade wasn’t exactly too keen on hiding it. His usual teasing gradually leaning to flirting with you

There was also a change in his possessiveness. Jade would get a little bit touchy with you when he noticed other students staring. He’d pull you in closer to him, sometimes even lightly sling his arm over your waist

Jades favorite part of you are your lips. Besides how kissable they look, he really likes you dynamic they can be in telling him your mood

Jade needed to tell you, whether you felt the same way or not. After school, you'd usually come around Octavinelle to do complete homework or simply hang around. Jade took this as an opportunity to strike the conversation with you

If you held Jade's hand in consolation, his face would grow cold. He'd make an unreadable face disguising layers of disappointment even he was surprised by. He'd reassure you that nothing would change between you two, but that was not entirely incorrect. He'd continue to be around you, but half of the intent would be lost and a trace of sadness would be caught in his eyes. The feelings wouldn't quite go away, but now he knew they were unrequited

If you looked at Jade with wide eyes and an unmistakable smile on your face, he'd give you a light smile back, completely concealing the overwhelming joy and warmth he felt inside.

If only you could see the fanfare going on in his mind

Jade would excitedly take you out on various hiking dates and cook up all the mushrooms you guys found later in his dorm

Just because you guys are together now doesn't mean he'll lay off the teasing. AT ALL

He would so enjoy watching you drift off on days when you were tired, offering his shoulder as a headrest

He is very confident showing you his merform, even when you guys were just friends. He has no problem with it at all.

His favorite place to kiss you is along your legs. So long and so perfect for him to leave trails of marks and kisses

His favorite spot to be kissed on is his nape specifically. Its somewhat of a sensitive spot for him.

𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔂𝓭 𝓛𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓱

Floyd oh Floyd

Being honest, did he have a clue what it was?

All he knew was that Lil Shrimpy was much too fun to be around

He’d never get tired or bored around them. Even his mood didn’t fluctuate as much when he was with them.

Your spontaneousness and willingness to go along with everything were just few of the many things he unconsciously loved about you

Floyd would also unconsciously get jealous whenever he’d see Little Shrimpy talking to other guys. He wanted to join in the fun too

Floyd has been cooking lots of food for you lately as well, beginning to obstruct his job at Mostro Lounge, leaving Azul at his wit's end

Everyday after school he’d barge in to Ramshackle as if the dorm was his own and take you out to see what kind of things you’d do today

Floyd was always a touchy person, so nobody could really notice when he started to softly squeeze you (he learned it’s called a hug) more often, and find ways to feel and touch your hands

Jade, however, could. He was the first one to know, even before Floyd himself realized what it was. It’s the Tweel 6th sense !

Floyd has shown you his merform multiple times. He’s really proud of it, and loves seeing your reactions to it each time

Because Floyd was absolutely clueless, he would also say things that were horribly incriminating without giving it a thought

Like, for example, if he saw you wearing a new shirt to school that looked flattering on you, he’d comment on it without thinking about it because he genuinely just doesn’t know (or experience often) the concept of love beyond bonds shared between families and friends

He’d also just straight up tell you how much he likes you. It’s really obvious to everyone but him

Floyd’s love language is quality time, physical touch, and surprisingly, acts of service. Doing favors for you and other people around him are just one of the ways he shows he cares. Squeezing you gently feels so special to him since the majority of the physical contact he engages in isn’t usually affectionate

Although, he’s slowly starting to open his eyes.the more time he spends with you the more he realizes you valuable you’ve become to his daily routine. A day without you just isn’t the same.

His favorite part of your was your belly. Flat or round didn’t matter to him. He was perfectly content as long as he he could stuff it full of his cooking

Because of Floyd’s lack of understanding and experience on the matter, it was really up to you to decide if you wanted to warm up to him or not.

If you thought that letting him too close isn’t what you want, you’d have to make it really really clear because if Floyd hasn’t come to terms with his feelings, he won’t handle rejection as easily either. He’ll be really heartbroken that one day, Little Shrimpy decided that it’s time to distance themselves. Although it’ll take trial and error, he’ll understand the message eventually. Floyd can be really intense, and even downright terrifying, but he’ll understand if it’s about you. Do give him time to process

Otherwise, if your intentions align with his, expect Floyd to notice this slowly. However, when he gets the hint, he will reach a whole new level of comfort with you. Really touchy as well. Slowly, it’ll click to him what he’s been feeling. He’ll understand and he’ll really try to treat you the best he can

Expect lots of PDA. It’s become like a second nature to him. He’d stay attached to you all day if he could

He’d take you on the best dates too. It’s a new thing every week. Never ending supply of ideas

Floyd’s favorite place to kiss you is your chest. It’s at perfect height when he lifts you up in his arms

His favorite spot to be kissed on is his neck. It always sends shivers and butterflies. It never fails to surprise him.

~~~~~~

[seventeenpins]

bad girl

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+

warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)

a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh

you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.

he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.

you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.

there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.

"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"

"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."

there's another silence.

"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"

you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."

joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.

not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."

you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.

you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.

it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.

sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.

you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.

place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.

you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).

you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.

"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.

and then you register it, a couple of moments later.

you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.

you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.

"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.

you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"

"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."

you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"

he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.

"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.

"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"

he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.

"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."

there's a long pause.

"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."

your eyes widen.

"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."

you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.

"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."

there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.

he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.

you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.

you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.

his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.

you want him to say something. you need him to say something.

he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"

it's only then that he looks at you.

"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."

it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.

"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".

joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.

"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"

"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"

it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end

"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"

"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.

"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."

"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.

"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.

"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."

he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.

"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"

you swallow and click back to another tab.

"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.

you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.

"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.

he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.

he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.

'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.

he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.

"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"

you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.

"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."

you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.

"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.

he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"

you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.

as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.

as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"

you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.

he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.

"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."

he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.

"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.

"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."

"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"

he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"

"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.

as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."

you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.

he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.

"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."

you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.

you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.

"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.

"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.

"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.

he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."

"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."

"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."

you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.

that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?

you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.

"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.

"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"

he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly

he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.

"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"

"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"

you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."

"now beg."

two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-

"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"

he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.

"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.

good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.

you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"

his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-

"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"

that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.

he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.

after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.

"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.

"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.

"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"

he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.

before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"

he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.

"good." you say, and joel smiles.

"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."

"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.

that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.

[comatosebunny09]

warning(s): period talk, innuendos, pet names, mild language, silliness, drabble, sylus being a sweetheart and also a perv notes: something quick and silly i wrote after my friend drove 30 minutes just to get me cookies. might continue this. thank you so much for reading, sug!

“Sylus!” you alert through the quiet static of his cell.

Despite the sleep in his eyes, he sits up, alarmed by the urgency of your voice. “What’s up, sweetheart?” he husks, voice croaky as his sheets slide down his naked torso.

“I need a favor.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Groans low and throaty, knowing no good will come from this.

“What kind of favor?” He almost regrets asking when there’s a pause on your end. He lifts a brow, awaiting your response with bated breath.

You chuckle nervously. Sylus pictures you sheepishly rubbing the nape of your neck. “My period just came on a couple days ago.”

“Yeah?” he croaks, pitching himself back onto his pillows, scrubbing a hand over his face.

He’s thrilled you’ve grown so comfortable with him. Really, he is. But he has yet to see where this is going. Doesn’t understand why it requires you to wake him up before his alarm.

“Yeah. It’s kicking my ass.”

He envisions you making a retching face, holding your stomach dramatically, and the thought of it makes his lips crook with a smile.

“You sound like you’re managing just fine, kitten.”

You scoff.

Sylus’ shoulders shake with a quiet laugh.

“How can I help?” He doesn’t need an answer, already scrolling through the catalog of his mind for ways to assuage your discomfort. Heating pads. Pamprin. Cinnamon tea. An orgasm or two. Maybe some choco—

“I need chocolate.” There it is! The ulterior motive he’s been waiting for.

Sylus groans again, squinting at the bright, blue light emitted by his phone as he draws it away from his ear to scroll through his food delivery apps. The things he does for you…

“What kind?” Never mind the fact that you could easily acquire chocolate yourself. He’s the most considerate boyfriend; he swears it.

You chuckle again, its anxious undertones making his thumb freeze over his screen and his eyes narrow. “Sweetie—”

“Don’t be mad.”

Sylus sighs, sitting up in his bed once more. He contemplates being upset just to spite you. Doesn’t like it when you beat around the bush. He swings his legs over the edge of his bed, mentally preparing to be up earlier than expected. “What. Kind?” he pressures.

“Ya know those chocolate chip cookies you bought me that one time? From that bakery near the—”

“Docks, yes. What about them?” His blood suddenly turns to ice in his veins. God dammit. Now he’s catching on.

“Well, I know they’re about to close. And you’re closer to them than I am. It'll be too late by the time I make it over there, so—”

“Already on it,” Sylus reveals over the rustling of fabric.

He pours himself into something casual, his motorcycle keys already jangling in his hand. You could’ve just asked outright from the beginning. The man would give you the world in a hand-basket if he could.

A shaky, relieved sound leaves your lips. “Thanks, Sy. Sorry if I’m inconveniencing you.”

His chest pulls. He would flick you if he could. You’re never an inconvenience despite the hour or day.

“Not at all, sweetheart. I was about to get up, anyway. But remember,” Sylus drawls all smug, disappearing into his underground garage. “I don’t work for free.”

He could swear he heard your butthole clench at the implication.

He chuckles gutturally, shoving his cell into his jacket. Throws his leg over his bike, the engine rattling to life. He tightens the chinstrap of his helmet after sliding it on, a smirk tugging the corner of his lips skyward whilst the garage door slowly yawns open.

And as he zips through the barren streets in pursuit of that bakery at the edge of town, he contemplates all the ways you can repay him for his altruism.

When you’re off your period, of course.

[simpxxstan]

seventeen and their love languages!!

maknae line version (read the hyung line version here!)

dokyeom

to him: physical touch (he's a softboy. he just needs some recharge-time cuddling with you. and naturally touchy as he is, a mere hand on his arm or your hands interlinked with his makes him feel so much better.)

from him: words of affirmation (if he's making you smile, his day is made. he needs nothing else.)

mingyu

to him: physical touch (he's so naturally physically affectionate. BIG on pda. it would mean the world to him if you accept and reciprocate his need for physical contact as a primary source of strength.)

from him: acts of service (is a giver. he will give and give and give- his time, his energy, his efforts, his love. will not let you do anything if he can do it. what does he spend so many hours in the gym for, after all?)

minghao

to him: quality time (that lover who respects your personal space, but would truly be overjoyed if you spent time with him. it can be just reading a movie together, listening to a podcast together, or even travelling to work together. if you're with him without any distractions, he's happy.)

from him: words of affirmation (so good with his words. he's a poet, and he will wax poetry for you incessantly. no matter what your mood is, he will know exactly how to uplift it.)

seungkwan

to him: words of affirmation (by nature, he's an overthinker. hence, he loves it when you reassure him that he's doing the right things and isn't hurting anyone through his actions. also loves it when you reassure him about his insecurities.)

from him: words of affirmation (seungkwan has a way with his words. he won't sugarcoat his words for you. nor will he speak lies. but he'll deliver the truth straightforwardly and make you feel infinitely healed.)

vernon

to him: quality time (as someone who enjoys being in his comfort zone and within his close circle, he'd really appreciate it if you could make time for him to indulge your common interests.)

from him: gifts (yeah no, he's ordering everything he sees online for you. at least this way, someone will be able to open parcels of things he orders, is what he tells you when you protest.)

chan

to him: acts of service (he thinks he falls for you even more whenever you try to put in some effort to help him out in any way possible. it's the thought that counts- but also as a persistent perfectionist, he appreciates any little help you give him in making his daily life easier.)

from him: quality time (chan understands the value of spending time together doing things you both enjoy. as a chronically offline person, he prefers to distance himself from distractions and give his entire focus to you.)

[pomefioredove]

Hey Dove~

I was reading through the different headcannons and the mute reader really caught my attention. Could you possibly do the Vice Wardens (including Ruggie cuz he's basically second in command anyway) with Yuu that has a speech impediment? Basically they stutter/stumble on words, get them mixed up, pronounces them wrong, and maybe forgets certain words. And obviously with new arcana and magical words (and the weird ahh names some of these characters have) they can get pretty frusterated or embarressed.

You always have such good headcannons!! Feel free to throw in any other characters that you like to the mix as well!!

OH this hits close to home too. I stutter and mispronounce things when I do speak, so I'm using that for reference

twst x mute reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ reader with a speech impediment

summary: as described type of post: headcanons characters: trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

see, I don't think Trey would say anything about it

he's not one to criticize strangeness

that would be rude, first of all

second of all, there's no such thing as "normal" at NRC

(even so, some people may point it out, but he's not one of them)

he doesn't have any trouble understanding you, either

he grew up with younger siblings who pronounced owl as "awa" and kitty as "shishi" until they were six

he's certainly patient

and he knows how to use context

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

honestly? Ruggie didn't even... notice?

for a while, he just thought you talked fast

he knows how it goes; you get excited or nervous or whatever, and you end up stumbling all over yourself

no biggie

then one day you come up to him all sad and teary, apologizing for a speech impediment he didn't even know you had, and he's like...

...oh! no!

of course he's not annoyed!

Ruggie's an adaptive guy, after all. when he wants something, he'll bend backwards for it

you think a little stuttering is gonna stop him from being friends with you?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

much like Trey, Jade doesn't say anything

he just watches you talk

and smiles

like this -> :)

it's not that he's particularly concerned about being rude, he's just...

observing

humans are such fascinating creatures, he thinks

he learns all of your quirks just by listening to you

which words you have trouble with, which ones you mix up and forget, which consonants you stumble over...

he teaches himself your language

and he becomes a sort of translator for you

any time someone is rude to you, he'll come out of nowhere and tell them everything you said in the exact order you said it

weird, but nice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

to put it plainly, Jamil has bigger problems

whether or not he can understand you doesn't really matter to him

it's not his job to worry over you

then, you come to him asking for help, and...

...well, he's flattered

he can't deny he likes that you come to him for guidance before anyone else

because of this, (and because he had to learn how to control his own tongue when he was little), he takes pity on you

whether your goal is to work on your speech, or to simply feel less anxiety about it, he's there

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

is it cliche to say that Rook already knows exactly what you're thinking?

perhaps, but it's true

he's mastered the art of observation

he can read your thoughts in your expression, your body language, even the slightest twitch in your lips gives you away

he just knows

you don't have to be a good speaker, or a speaker at all, to communicate with Rook

(and he can do all the talking for you if you'd like, he'd probably enjoy that)

and, of course, he is of the opinion that there is beauty in everything

you don't need to be perfectly clear and concise for him to like you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, I can't guarantee that Lilia won't tease a little

only in good fun, of course

and only if you respond in kind

but he does find it rather cute when you mispronounce something, or mix up your words

he won't correct you or interrupt you, either

he'll step in to help if you're really struggling, of course, but he thinks of you as capable

he does remind you to take breathers when you're getting too anxious about it, though

he cares <3

[ladyrijus]

Skyward Sword Zelda is such a tragic figure in my opinion. Just put yourself in her shoes and imagine this.

It's the best day of your life. Your dearest friend, dork that he is, has finally become a knight. It's what every kid on Skyloft works towards and he finally did it. You're so proud of him. When you fly together, you muster up the courage to tell him you love him.

You never get the chance.

Instead you're whisked away into a world you believed was left behind, and saved by a woman who declares that she is your guardian, chosen by you. You have never met her before. You didn't even know there were people like you who lived down here, in the Surface.

"You must purify yourself if you are to transcend time and hold the seal," the mysterious woman with the painted tear remarks as she shepherds you through strange destinations unlike anything your books have ever taught you, "it was your will." No matter how many times she tells you this, in every iteration the language could allow, it doesn't make sense. Why would a goddess need to turn human? What could you do, that she could not?

Where does divinity and humanity diverge?

Connection.

A goddess is revered by her people who pray, in spite of her silence, for her benevolence and guidance. She is their unwavering stone, a higher power to rely on. But a girl? A girl is loved. She is someone tangible, a figure who people will see, and know, and care about, and fight for.

And that's when it clicks. Your friend isn't really your friend at all, but a hero, a pawn, who was intended to be used against an enemy of yours you no longer recognize.

You're using him. You've been using him all this time. It's sickening.

With each prayer, with each goddess damned spring you rush to, you are faced with your own marbled reflection, a testament to the fact your humanity is only a pretense, carefully timed to ensnare your friend into a hero's fate.

He doesn't seem to understand that though. He keeps running after you like the fool he is, hoping to save Zelda, his precious Zelda, that you no longer are. The smile you wear becomes harder to hold. You were Hylia first, and that is all you will ever be.

You play into the charade anyways. After all, Zelda was the reason why he went through his trials. To tell him now that she was gone would mean to destroy everything you had worked for. So you tell him everything he wants to hear: that you're your father's daughter, that you're his friend, that you're his Zelda.

And when you close your eyes, smiling from within the amber and ignoring the dull thuds of his fist against its surface, you wonder if you look anything like the statue you and your love had stood upon on the best day of your life.

"Maybe all of this is a dream," you wonder while drifting in between millennia. Time passes like the waterfalls in Skyloft, rapid, yet everlasting. Maybe you'd wake up in your bed in the Academy again. Your love would have been sleeping in (again) and everything would be how it used to be. You could be Zelda once more. And most importantly, Hylia would be nothing beyond a giant statue for you to ignore for the rest of your days.

... There's something to be said about how you fall again once you wake up.

"What kind of goddess am I," you think crudely, "to sever my own wings?"

But this time, your love is there to catch you. And he does. In that moment you pray, in your own name, he doesn't let you go.

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Veritas Ratio Affection hc's

Will not leave you alone...

He's like a tall, very vocal shadow

It's basically just become common place for him to immediately follow you whenever you're heading, without saying a single word, continuing the focus on his activity of writing or reading or whatever as he follows a step behind you

Occasionally he'll look up and be sort of surprised about where exactly you've unconsciously led him, but won't actively admit he was just following you mindlessly

It's very common for him to be constantly solving your minor problems, too

He doesn't want to encourage you relying on him for everything, of course, but any small way he can make your life easier is an action of second nature

Obviously, he has a drink you like all set out and ready for you after an exhausting day, of course the bills, taxes, and other horrible legalities are already taken care of, and yes there's a bath drawn for you, don't look so surprised

He's basically constantly anticipating potential problems or dangers you might face, and takes preemptive steps to keep things safe and pleasant, you can be pretty much positive any action you take has been preemptively thought over thoroughly on your behalf

He's not necessarily going to tell you what to do, but if there is a 'right answer', he will be making it known

Despite his schedule, he is almost borderline devoted to taking some time out of the day to more thoroughly learn about your hobbies and current interests

If you are going to be engaging in stimulating conversation, it wouldn't be fair to make it only about his interests, and all knowledge is beneficial knowledge

Really, engaging in thoughtful conversations and taking real initiative to show he values your interest is his love language

Pretty much any hobby you love, he'll be making an attempt at, if only to spend more time together

If you go searching, you might occasionally find little sticky notes written around his working area, a lot of which are simply fleeting thoughts to be explored in greater depth later (including design plans for a little gadgets he thinks you might get use out of), but a good handful mention your name specifically and different things he wants to bring up with you, or even gift ideas for down the line

Once he realizes that you've been digging around there, he'll probably start writing them in code, giving you just enough time to crack exactly what the conversion is before switching to another, making it into a sort of puzzle

Due to his connections, note taking, and overall general perceptiveness, he is utterly fantastic at giving gifts

If he realizes you two are growing sort of disconnected, or even drifting, because of your need for emotional support, he begrudgingly takes a course or reads extensively on emotional intelligence to better understand and respond, without directly telling you of course

On days when you two aren't able to see each other because of his traveling, he writes stupid long texts filled with his usual style of difficult to read sophisticated language detailing everything you're missing out on and a good handful of check ins for what exactly you're doing and if you're fairing ok

Definitely won't admit to it, but he gets a little paranoid sometimes

His physical affection is usually subtle, that's not his specialty after all... But it's common to find a hand resting somewhere on you keeping you close, or a subtle small kiss on your hand or cheek as a reminder that he does really love you, even if it's done with a rather stoic face

Genuinely doesn't get embarrassed over PDA

Why on earth would he care what anybody else thinks? It's not their business, he's certainly not going to hold back making you feel better over something as stupid as how other people think of him

His compliments tend to feel a bit blunt, as with the rest of his speaking, lacking any sort of nuance or emotional flair, but they all feel incredibly genuine too, like a real testament to your character and accomplishments, always catching you off guard when they do happen

At the very least, you can be thoroughly sure any sort of compliment is given genuinely and with plenty of thought put into it, as he isn't known to hold back on telling his real feelings about somebody to their face...

[cornchrunchie]

After rewatching the Final Fifteen over and over again, I don't think Crowley wanted to kiss Aziraphale.

Look. I know we’ve all read a lot of different readings of ✨the kiss✨ and why it happened the way it did. It’s just that none of the posts I’ve seen so far captured exactly the feeling I was reading into the scene, so I thought I might as well share my interpretation. Because I don’t think Crowley wanted to kiss Aziraphale, actually. I mean of course he wanted to, but– let me explain.

I brought gifs and a little more heartbreak :)

First of all, I do agree with most of the interpretations going around. Crowley wanting to change Aziraphale's mind? Totally plausible. Wanting to show him what he’s losing? Probably. Taking the last chance he might get to finally kiss him? Yes, please!

What I mean when I say I don’t believe Crowley wanted to kiss Aziraphale are essentially two things, one of them being that Crowley didn’t plan on kissing him. He planned on leaving.

We know this because it’s exactly what he does.

The moment I come back to over and over again is when Crowley puts on his sunglasses and heads for the door.

Look how close they are to each other. Usually, you would expect the kiss to happen in a moment like this. All it would take Crowley is to lean forward. If he wanted to kiss Aziraphale and change his mind, he would do it right there. But he doesn’t. He nods in a way that screams: Right. This is a losing game.

Aziraphale had just told him that nothing lasted forever (so why should he stay) and he already put back his wall of defense (the sunglasses). Of course, we can't tell for sure but everything in his appearance tells us that for him, the moment between them is gone. The only chance he had decided to take had slipped through his fingers. It is time to leave. So he does.

Crowley does not stop until Aziraphale cries out his name and wants him to come back. He is not held back by his own desire but by his incapability to resist Aziraphale’s cry for help. Not that these things can’t be connected – but look at his body language, look how reluctant it seems, annoyed almost.

It looks like he really doesn't want to stay. At the same time, he doesn’t want to hurt Aziraphale. He wants him to know that he cares. It’s not easy for him either. So he stays. Listens to what Aziraphale has to say.

But it hurts even more. Crowley doesn't even bear to look at him. Aziraphale just doesn’t understand him, doesn’t understand the way Heaven works, even after all these years. At least, that’s what Crowley thinks. Everything that made the air around them vibrate, every nightingale that ever sang, is now dead silent. Crowley says so himself.

This is not him pathing the way for a kiss. This is him saying goodbye.

And then he says: “You idiot. We could have been –“

Maybe he doesn’t quite know what exactly he wants to say or maybe he does but he doesn’t know how.

“– us.”

His voice is trembling. He lets the words linger in the room between them. Note how he is already speaking in the past tense. We could have been. But we’re not.

However, Crowley admits that the possibility of them being an Us was there, hence the possibility of everything that being an Us means to him. It drips from his toungue, every moment and every feeling he connects to the sense of being an Us. You have to remember the feeling to voice it, even when you do it to say goodbye.

And I think – we’re getting to the essence of this post – I think what happens is that Crowley gets overwhelmed by his own words, or rather: by grabbing his feelings and putting them into words, by the implication of them as an Us and everything he imagined it would have been for them. And what it means to lose it.

And I don’t think he consciously decides to kiss Aziraphale. I don’t think he wanted to kiss him in the sense that he didn’t want to take this step and actually do it. He had already lost.

(We could have been us but we’re not.)

They are still too far away from each other.

(We’re not. But we could have been.)

Eventually, Aziraphale averts his gaze, and turns his head to the side.

And this! This is the moment Crowley steps forward! Let me emphasize it once again because I do believe it’s crucial to Crowley's change of heart.

Aziraphale looks away. And Crowley snaps.

He snaps like a rubber band you pull at for too long, like the clip of a ballpoint pen cap you push too hard upside. It’s not a conscious decision. It’s a reflex. Like closing an app on your phone and opening it again directly after. Like someone calling your name and you turn your head in the direction of the voice. You don’t think about it. It just happens.

And I think Aziraphale looking away was the last straw that held the rubber band in place. The last thing that kept Crowley from falling once again. I genuinely don’t believe he would have kissed Aziraphale if the latter had continued to look at him. Too scary, right? Too real. Too close.

So this is the second thing I mean when I say that Crowley didn’t want to kiss Aziraphale. Of course, he wanted to but he didn’t make a deliberate decision. He just … gave in.

And when he pulls away, he knows that everything between them has changed. He waits for Aziraphale’s reaction, everything about him is tense.

And if he dared to hope for anything at all, it surely wasn’t this.

Forgiveness.

"I forgive you."

I forgive you for giving in.

Don't bother.

So Crowley does what he wanted to do in the first place – and leaves.

He didn’t plan on kissing Aziraphale. He wanted to leave, maybe even to prevent this from happening. And when it happened, I don’t think it’s because of ulterior motives like changing Aziraphale’s mind or grabbing the opportunity as it presented itself to him.

I’m not saying these motives aren’t there – in fact, I pretty much believe so! I'm just saying that maybe he didn’t think about them when kissing Aziraphale and that he didn’t decide to kiss him because of that.

Maybe this is more than obvious to everyone else already and I'm stupidly rambling to myself. Also, I'm truly sorry if I overlooked another analysis of this.

I just don’t think there was time in Crowley’s head to reflect on any of his feelings.

I think he was just not holding back anymore.