#smutty hcs
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le-trash-prince · 1 month ago
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o_o i need kenta collared and riding kim’s thigh, while kim holds onto his leash, keeping him bent at an angle where he can’t get the leverage, the friction he wants, and he’s basically just quivering and leaking all over kim’s pants
also… maybe a thigh strap dildo
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cuntphoric · 5 months ago
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sitting on gojo's lap, making out with him while his hands are fondling your tits, his heavy breathing filling the air because he can't get enough of you. send tweet
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thesandsofelsweyr · 2 months ago
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Just imagine watching Jason gripping his thick, glistening, uncut cock, his scarred hand gliding up and down the slightly curved seven inch shaft, his tight little sack bobbing as he jacks off to you 😘
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typhea · 2 years ago
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✮﹒🧊﹐MIDORIYA IZUKU + ‘MINE, HM? ALL MINE.’
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﹐♡﹒featuring : midoriya izukuuu ♡
﹐♡﹒infos : nsfw content below the cut // mdni , fem!reader, jealousy sex, drunk sex (both are drunk), reader is an attention seeker, brat-taming, heavy degradation??, choking, spanking, hickeys, ruined orgasm, mean!izuku, breeding, literally my first nsfw work 😭 ♡    
﹐♡﹒summary : him being a jealous and possessive little guy ♡
your husband is a busy man. he leaves early in the morning and comes back late in the night. you could barely see him in a week. you were left alone all day, thinking about him, craving his touch and affection. izuku was addicting, and it was clear that you wasn’t getting enough of him.
when he came back home, you had hope he could cuddle with you, watch a little movie or even eat dinner with you, but he was always too tired. your texts from him was full of ‘i’ll be home late don’t wait for me’ or ‘i’ll miss dinner tonight’. you were honestly fed up.
but this evening, you wanted things to change. mina organised a little party between old yuei students, izuku was obviously going to see his classmates again and see how they grew. you were going with him, and you had so many plans for the night.
the clock showed 7:15 PM, you were getting ready in the bathroom putting your make-up on. you wore a tight red dress that would embrace your shapes beautifully. you felt so pretty.
“darling, we have to go.” his tone was so cold and tired, almost broke your heart. but oh, was he handsome. seeing him would make you clench your thighs instantly, whatever he did to you, it was so bad.
you just nodded and followed him to the car. and of course, all the way to ashido’s house was made in silence. if it wasn’t that muffled and slow song from the strokes.
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the party had now begun 1 hour ago, your husband was slowly drinking and chatting with tenya, glancing at you few times. but there was the entertainment — denki was telling several jokes and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. the way you looked at the blondie smiling and waiting for the next joke, he saw it. you felt his gaze on you and you loved every second of it. you started getting touchy with denki, his hair, his arms, his shoulders. each touch very slight but so noticeable.
denki tried to spice up things and asked “hey y/n, wanna play something fun?”. your husband perfectly heard what he said, he was glaring at you two with his dark green eyes. his stare would make you giggle, but you were still staring at denki. as izuku picked up the pace of drinking shots, he looked carefully at you, rage filling his body. the veins on his arms and hands were about to pop, as he bit his lower lip to calm down.
let’s be honest, your goal was to piss him off. i mean, why would he care if you flirted a little with another man, since he doesn’t give you the attention you need? so, with joy you agreed playing denki’s game. whatever alcohol game it was, you weren’t really paying attention but 5 shots were in front of you. you just knew what you had to do, drink as fast as you could. you took all the five shots in 10 seconds and everyone applauded as you drank it all. everyone except ur husband.
mina did the same, denki, hanta and ochaco tried but failed. it was your turn again with 6 shots, then you added 7 shots and you reached your limit. you couldn’t drink anymore as you felt your legs shaking, and your vision being blurry. you walked towards izuku who already stood up to leave.
“wait!.. izuuu” you ran after him as he got into the car. you did the same and you could see that he was really, upset. he didn’t even looked at you once. you could tell he was drunk too, with how red his cheeks was, how messy his hair was and that look in his eyes would make you regret how you acted.
he started the car, and turned off the music. he started driving fast, a little too fast. you hated going fast in cars, and he knew how much.
���izu, slow down.. you know i hate when you drive fast” he didn’t listen to you. “i..- i think you drank a bit more than me, wouldn’t it be better if i drive?” you asked, literally scared for your life.
“you don’t trust me, honey?” as soon as he talked , it ran shivers down your spine. his low and husky voice made you flustered, if it wasn’t the alcohol driving you insane. “i do izu, i trust you.”
few minutes passed and he spoke again, “had fun?” tightening his grip on the wheel, letting you see his veins. “yeah, you didn’t?” “y/n. don’t take me for an idiot, you know what i’m talking about. did you had fun acting like a fucking slut?”
drunk izuku was far, far again so far from the usual izuku. you played a dangerous game, making him upset. “i’m talking to you, y/n.” he said again, his breath being slightly heavy. “w..what do you mean?” you wanted to disappear suddenly. he chuckled, a nervous laugh. “i saw you with denki, it’s been few days since we haven’t done anything so now you’re looking for other mans? my wife’s being slutty now huh?” he grinned, as he saw you flustered and squeezing your thighs together. you could search for an hour or more for a reply to that but you wouldn’t find one.
“you really want to shame me mh? you want that on the news, don’t you? deku’s wife being a bitch in heat.” he tsk and shook his head in disappointment, “n-no..” you mumbled, you hated yourself from stuttering at this moment. he was being so vulgar, it wasn’t like him. but something in your lower tummy was screaming for more.
—————————————
you both arrived at your house and left the car. you struggled to walk straight. izuku closed the door of the house as he entered last. he looked at you with a serious face, his eyebrows down and his eyes almost opened. you wouldn’t dare to move. he walked towards slowly. each step of his made your heart jump. when he arrived in front of you, it was like he took all the breath you had away. you started panting slightly. he grabbed your chin and leaned closer to your face, as if he would give you a kiss but he stopped when he judged he was too close.
“do i need, to remind you who you belong to?” he slowly whispered, you could feel his breath on your lips. he was driving you insane, you needed him. you nodded shamelessly. he slightly smirked. his hand before on your chin, went down your neck and squeezed it.
“i’m wondering if you deserve a kiss right now, honey.” he was smiling at you struggling to breathe, that was his favourite view and obviously yours too. “please?” oh girl, you were down bad. he giggled, his innocent and friendly laugh was now sounding like mocking. “nah, you’re not getting a kiss. i only kiss my wife, not bratty little sluts like you, understood?” he whispered in your ear as he let go of the grip on your neck. “i wanna hear you, y/n.” he commanded, “yes deku..” you replied in low voice. “that’s it, baby. against the wall and turn around, let me see the pussy you wanted to give denki.”
you did as he told you, you couldn’t help but smile as you heard a hint of jealousy in his voice. “you think it’s funny mh? making me upset, you like it when i’m mad at you, don’t you?” he grabs you by the waist and pushed down so you could arch your back. he lifted your dress and caressed softly your ass cheek and planted a kiss on your shoulder.
“you wore that tight fucking dress to drive me insane mh? tell me you wanted this to happen, you wanted me to get mad at you and treat you like a slut.” he said against your shoulder, leaving a hickey on it. “i .. i wanted you to get mad-..” “louder.” he slapped your ass cheek, so hard you almost screamed. “fuck izu.. i wanted this to happen! i wanted you to fuck me like you used to..” you admitted, or maybe the alcohol made you admit it. “then if you wanted me fuck you like a whore you could’ve just asked, you didn’t have to make me so fucking mad y/n.” he whispered in your ear, bruising your hip with his grip.
you heard his belt coming off, his zipper going down and the fabric of his pants brushing against his thighs. his pants were going down as he freed his cock. he pushing your panties to the side. “soaking wet, aren’t you? who made you this wet, baby? tell me.” he asked, drawing circles on your clit with his middle finger. your whimpers and the wet sounds of your cunt were quick to fill the room. “y-you did!you made me this wet izu..-” “aw really angel? you want me to do something about it?” he questioned rhetorically, you quickly replied “y-yes! izu please..”.
“tell me who’s cock do you want inside you, y/n.” he tapped his hard cock against your pussy few times and teased your folds. “yours! i want your cock, izu.. please please..” you begged, as you pushed yourself on his dick to put it in. he chuckled, “fine, since you asked so nicely.”
he slowly goes inside and make you moan his name. it sounds like sweet music to his ears. he goes deep, so deep you could literally feel him. he started fucking you, and he kept his promise. he was fucking you like a slut. deep and hard strokes, the noises of your ass clapping against him was so loud in the corridors. he grabbed your waist tightly and went feral. izuku has always been vocal in bed, but drunk izuku was worst — or better — he was shameless.
izuku reminded you how much stronger he was than you with each thrust. “who’s the one who makes you feel this good, baby? who else can fuck you this good ? .. f-fuck.. you’re so tight y/n.” he tells you, going faster. “a-ah! only you.. c-can make me feel this good..! izu.. ‘m so close.. don’t stop please..” he chuckled then slowed down, fucking you with his tip only. “it’s cute thinking that brats like you deserves to cum. i’m not making you cum tonight, not even once you hear me?” you whined as you heard him, you were so desperate you just did whatever you could “i’m..- i’m so-sorry izu.. i’m sorry please! please i need to.. i need to cum..” you were out of breath, your legs were shaking like crazy and your clit twitching literally talking in morse codes.
“you’re gonna.. ah.. you’re gonna behave like a slut again? you’re gonna make me upset again, princess?” he asked, still thrusting into with his tip only, leaving you frustrated. “no izuku! i won’t, i-i’ll be good i promise!” you almost shouted, bringing your ass back so you could take him all the way inside. “nuh-huh baby, if you wanna cum that’s how you’re going to cum. on my tip, slowly.. just like that.. don’t you dare moving an inch y/n.”
like the good girl you wanted to be, you just arched your back and took his tip. tears of frustration ran down your cheeks. you were on the edge, so close. without realising, your eyes went shut when your ruined orgasm came into your body. you moaned quietly, “that’s it y/n, that’s how little brats gets off. you did so good.. but i’m still a little.. mad at you.”
right after you came, he pounded your pussy even harder than before. he was back at fucking you hard like a whore. “ah! deku.. it-it’s too muchh..” your words fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care at all. he even grabbed and pulled your hair fucking himself deeper into you. you couldn’t think straight, you were his brain dead little girl.
“i’m gonna fill you up, my love..” he whispered, loud enough for you to hear it. once again, he kept his promise. you felt him filling you up deep inside with his semen. “fuckk baby.. you’re mine, hm? all mine.” “yes deku” ♡
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEKUUU 🤭
thanks for reading darlin! don’t forget to like and leave a comment :)
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strayheartless · 1 year ago
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Random body headcanons for AGSZC:
Zacks hyper mobile. His elbows do the thing where they bend to far out when he sticks them up. He can also touch his thumb completely to his wrist and crack his hips. Down side of this is so many broken bones.
Cloud has got little scars on the back of his hands and calf’s from various canings.
However the stupidest scar he has is the one on the inside of his lip where zack bit him as a joke… they were not dating at the time.
Angeal has a couple of scars on his right forearm and elbow from the time he had to get the bone pinned because Genesis pushed him out of a tree when they were eight.
Sephiroth doesn’t really scar unless it’s a deep deep wound. He’s got a few surgery scars but the dumbest one is the one on his wrist that is a suspicious match for Genesis’s dental records (it’s exactly what you think.)
Cloud and Genesis and both incredibly flexible people.
Angeal is about as stiff as a board. Genesis has tried to loosen him up with yoga. It did not work.
Zacks not inflexible, however he overestimates how bendy he actually is and usually hurts himself.
Zack can dance he just chooses to be bad at it. The only time you’ll catch him dancing properly is when he’s trying to wooh his partners.
While Cloud and Genesis are very flexible, Sephiroth has mastered the ability of being able to fit all six foot five of himself in the gap behind the boiler in the airing closet. Many hours have been lost to that place.
Zack runs hotter than the sun.
Genesis runs surprisingly cold for someone who favours fire materia.
Cloud frequently does not recognise that he feels cold. He will walk around with blue lips until Angeal wrestles him into a jumper.
Angeals shoulders have been known to be wider than some door frames.
Don’t ask me where this came from. I do not have the answer.
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arcvlies · 2 years ago
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toji fushiguro.
morning!
cooking mama.
can't take it..
kento nanami.
be a good girl.
slow.
so good for mommy..!
gojo satoru.
i love your ass.
if we're in public we're 100% doin it.
hope your day starts off good as mine.
geto suguru.
big vs. small.
titties!
breakin' this hoes back.
choso kamo.
my pussy drunk boy..
punishment.
showa.
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cheesecakeislazy · 11 months ago
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I have insomnia, my phone is about to die, and I feel like I need to write! So here we go boys!! (And gals and non-binary pals) Sorry if this one is shitty TwT
Sensitivity is High
F!Reader x BEN Drowned Smut
You and Ben laid in bed together, just enjoying the moment. Nothing was going on today, it was a free day. Cuddling in bed, looking at memes, listening to music, and playing co-op games together.
While for most people, a day where you can relax with your partner would be quiet and calm, for the two of you, it was quite the opposite..
Within the other rooms of the mansion you could hear Jeff blasting metal music, you could hear Toby annoying Masky by doing anything possible, if you listened carefully you could hear the subtle sounds of Sally trying to sneak a few extra snacks before anyone noticed. While on the outside, you could hear the faint sounds of Clockwork exercising with Jane, the crunching leaves as Slender went on a walk, the sound of the front door slamming open because Masky started to chase Toby outside. Yep, this was home. Full of chaos, full of loud voices and sounds consistently. However, almost everyone within the mansion agreed that this hellhole was better than their old lives, or the life they would have now if Slender wasn’t nice enough to give them a job.
While normally you and Ben would have been joining in on the chaos, the two of you decided to really relax. No pranks, no jokes, no annoyance to others, just each others company in bed playing Minecraft. The life you had was hectic at best and mentally painful at worst, but having Ben with you? It made those shitty days not so bad.
“Alright! Tha-That’s our base d-done!” Ben was honestly really good at Minecraft, speedrunning, building, pvp, he was a Jack of all trades when it came to the game. Probably because the elf-like boy had been playing the game practically since it came out.
“Hm.. well now that we got the homebase finished, you wanna play something else?” You looked over at your boyfriend, as much as you loved playing MC with him, you were pretty bored right now.
Ben took a moment to think before he nodded, saving the game file and quitting the game before looking over at you. “S-So then what d-do you wanna play in-instead?” His voice glitched less during moments like this, alone, just the two of you in peace, it made you generate a gentle smile from your lips.
“Ah, to be completely honest? I kinda wanna just… shut down? At least for a little.. you get me?” Sometimes, as much as you loved gaming, you just wanted to take a 4 pm nap and cuddle. “O-Oh! Y-yeah! That sounds great! I-I-I wouldn’t mind that at all, Babe!” His ears tinted a slight pink at the tip, an indication that he was happy with the idea of cuddles.
As you both laid there, bodies intertwined with each other, arms and legs looped and twisted together like multicolored playdough, a part of your brain sparked curiosity. You had suddenly remembered Ben’s ears.. during more.. intimate moments.. the ears twitched consistently. It made you wonder quite a bit if the ears were extra sensitive, at least compared to the rest of his body.
Deciding to act on this sudden surge of curiosity and confidence, you shifted around slightly, making it look like you were just making yourself a little bit more comfortable. However, you were actually getting your head just a smidge bit closer to his ear, slowly you moved your mouth forward, and before Ben could question or react, you softly bit onto his ear.
The sound that came from Ben was a mixture of arousing and concerning, as you couldn’t tell if the yelp/moan was of pain or pleasure. You pulled away as soon as possible, and stared into his eye sockets.
“Sorry! I was just curious.. if they were.. sensitive.” You realized that after saying it out loud, your explanation for possibly putting your lover in pain, was extremely stupid.
“Uh- It- Uhm! N-No- N-No! Y-you real-really shouldn’t b-be-be sorry-!!” You could tell it certainly had some type of effect on him, as his voice had gotten much glitchier. You were about to open your mouth and make another apology, despite his statement, but as you shifted your leg you felt something poke you. Ah, it was that kind of sensitive..
You smirked to yourself, you found it quite adorable that by just biting his ear softly, you had given the poor man a hard-on. It was obvious that Ben was embarrassed by this fact, he hated to look needy in front of you. But unfortunately for him, he was about to look even needier..
Slowly and carefully, you began to shift your entire body lower and lower on the bed, until you had reached the point of his body that laid right in the middle of his pelvic bone. You laid right in front of his boner, Ben immediately knew what you were trying to do.
“N-no!! Y-Ya-You really don-don’t have-have to-to D-d-Do that!!” His glitchy stutters only turning you on more. You began to remove his sweatpants and boxers, as his cock lie infront of your face you looked up at Ben, wanting his consent before you actually ended up doing anything.
Thankfully, as you expected, Ben bit his lip and nodded at you to continue. Gently, you put his tip inside your mouth, precum already leaking from it. Sucking and licking softly at the head of his cock, tasting the slight sweet salty mixture, Ben threw his head back slightly and let out a few quiet groans and pants.
Slowly getting more and more of his cock into your mouth and down your throat, Ben whimpered for more. The feeling of his cocks tip hitting the very back of your throat as you sucked him off always felt so good on another level. The slight burn of your lips as they tried to stay open and fit his cock inside. Using your tongue to lick the underside of his cock as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft. Ben slowly began to get more overwhelmed by the pleasure and started to buck his hips upwards into your throat, causing you to gag slightly. The feeling of your throat gagging on his cock made him moan your name, tightly gripping onto your hair. God, you were so fucking perfect..
As you continued sucking and licking BEns cock, you saw his ears twitch in unison with his cock. Not only did it remind you of how you had gotten into this, but it also made you wonder if his ears were as sensitive as his cock..
But you weren’t able to ponder on the matter for long, as Ben had busted his load inside your mouth, filling and overwhelming your tastebuds with the sweet and salty creamy substance that made you addicted to giving this man blowjobs. Once you had lifted your head off of him, and swallowed the load he had just so kindly gifted to you, you looked up at him.
Ben looked back at you.. his red eyes no longer circular, little red hearts lay in their place.
“Switch spots with me, Baby~ And take off y-your clothes.. I’m g-gonna return the favor~” Ben licked his lips as he winked as you.
Your panties were already soaked from sucking him off, but the thought of Ben devouring your cunt made you shiver with excitement.
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teatitty · 11 months ago
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Some more Sharkteeth Iruka thoughts:
He has very much internalised a lot of insecurities about his teeth bc of all the shit he's seen and heard Kohari get about her own over the years
These feelings were heavily reinforced when a bunch of kids in class decided to play an innocent spin the bottle but when it landed on Mizuki, the kids all screeched about not wanting to get bitten/sliced/etc
The first time he kissed Kakashi it was through the barrier of Kakashi's mask bc he was scared of doing it otherwise. The first kiss without the mask in the way is sweet and tender and lead by Kakashi as way to prove he has nothing to fear
When Iruka is annoyed or irritated he makes little noises by sucking or tutting his teeth. These sounds are just as diverse as a person's hand signs and you can tell what island someone's family came from in Water Country based on the specific sounds they make
Teeth gnashing means he's either in pain or actively pissed off and yes that makes a sound too. It's like a sharp clicking where his teeth snap and grind together
His accent is quite noticeably thick because he has to talk without slicing his tongue so he stretches out certain vowels/consonants/etc or just straight up ditches others [example: "the, there and that" becomes "de, dere and dat" and "with what" is "wiv whuh", "mouth" is "mof/muhf" etc]
Because he uses a henge to transform his mouth into something more "normal" his natural accent is usually hidden, though his grins, smiles and laughter are still very wide and large since he's used to, well, having different teeth to work around when at home
If he gets worked up enough the accent will slip regardless of the henge
The sharkteeth of Mist exist because the local produce is quite thick and tough so you need teeth capable of ripping and tearing without hurting the jaw. Put a juicy steak in front of him and Iruka will be able to tear it to shreds with no issue even if it's super fatty
He can also crunch into shellfish and just. Eat the shells. He doesn't do that because they "taste really bad" but he could
A spaced/zoned out Iruka is likely to bite you out of reflex if you make him jump. Gai found this out without meaning to and was very chill with it bc he's used to Hatake 'I express my affection via biting' Kakashi but Iruka was a bit of a mess about it
Speaking of Kakashi: he's so normal about the Sharkteeth. So so normal. It doesn't count as an oral fixation if you're just using your fingers to poke around in there whenever you can guys he swears!
He really likes it when Iruka applies a soft pressure against his exploring fingers with said teeth. It reminds him of his dogs when they playfight with him
Iruka stops using the henge sometime during the blank period between part 1 and shippuden. He started borrowing Kakashi's masks instead hehe. Both a practical solution and a sweet one since Kakashi's romantic self gushes about it constantly. Somehow it still takes their coworkers absolutely ages to click on that they're dating. Incredible
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le-trash-prince · 11 days ago
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we will probably never get the scenes of Kim training North that I dreamed about but they can’t take away my headcanon of North jacking off in his racecar because it still smells like Kim’s sweat 🤷‍♂️
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cuntphoric · 5 months ago
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gojo loves praising AND degrading you, but he's the type to mix them together, because he can't choose.
"you're such a good girl for me, baby, but look at how wet your pussy is.. are you really enjoying this that much? what a dirty little slut you are.. so cute." like idk something along the lines of that ^_^
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random-thot-generator · 7 months ago
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tf 141 x f!reader
Smutty head canons about 69 with the members of the 141. I have a favorite.
cw: sexually explicit content, MDNI
mdni banner: @cafekitsune arrow divider: @saradika-graphics
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Soap:
I think Soap would be eager to give it a try, but once it gets going, our Scottish lad would get way too excited, gag you on it and end up turning the sixty-nine into a sixty-eight— "Sorry, bon. Dinnae mean t'do tha'. Leh's get ye cleaned up an' I'll give ye a proper lickin', aye?"
Ghost:
Ghost would be more conscientious about it, but he's a tall guy, which means you're both gonna have to contort to reach each other's naughty bits, unless you're tall, too. I'd leave it at "I'll do you and then you do me." Nobody wants a crick in their neck getting in the way of good nookie.
Price:
O captain, my captain! I think John Price would be great at it, but... Beard burn on your inner thighs might sound hot in theory, but the reality is you're going to be walking bow-legged for a day or two, because he would get lost in the sauce and chafe you raw.
Gaz:
Oh, but Gaz... sigh*. Gaz would shave his face baby smooth and moisturize. He'd use lip balm so his lips won't be chapped. He'd trim his nails and file them down so he can add in some finger action. He'd condition and landscape his pubes. He'd bathe with that body wash you think smells so good. He'd eat pineapple for a week straight, just in case the rumors are true that it makes cum taste better. He'd lay you on your side to do the deed, so you're both comfortable. And he would be thorough and attentive, paying attention to what makes your toes curl and your thighs shake. He will make it his mission to leave you a fucked out rag doll with glassy eyes and his cum drooling out of the corner of your slack mouth.
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bethrnoora · 3 months ago
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you'll be in my mind every time I look back at the sun
It's what he should have expected, in the end. Always on a parallel trajectory, never to hold onto the things that matter - that could have mattered to him.
or: David Bowman and the idea of things that can't love you back.
read on AO3
hi i have a lot of thoughts on dave bowman and grief and mourning and one's relationship to romance and intimacy. extrapolated largely from that one little segment in 2010 odyssey two
He brings the mantis home late one afternoon during the summer before fifth grade. Glass mason jar, perforated plastic wrap over top of it, some twigs and leaves inside so the mantis can climb at its (now somewhat restricted) leisure.
Dave sets it on the bedroom windowsill and lets the tangerine sunset wash over it.
The mantis angles its compound eye in his direction; at least, he thinks it's looking in his direction. He scoots closer, sets his chin on the sill to look at it up close.
It seems at peace enough with its surroundings, if a little cramped.
"What do you have there?"
Bobby, three years his senior, stands in the doorway, hands in his pockets.
Dave shifts on the egg crate he's brought in as a makeshift stool.
"Nothin'."
"Yeah, right. Come on, I'm not gonna get you in trouble or anything."
He hesitates, but then leans out of the way, lets his brother get a glimpse of the mantis - who is now gradually moving to investigate the plastic over the top of the jar.
"Stagmomantis carolina," he says with a mounting pride; he's read all about them in one of the field guides from the library.
"Neat," says Bobby with a smile. "Where'd you find her?"
"In the tall grass. Past the stream."
He makes his way in and crouches to get a better look. The setting sun casts his profile in orange and gold, same as the edges of the jar.
The mantis has stopped in its - her? - ascent to the lip of its new abode, the feet of its thoracic limbs pressed inquisitive to the glass. It raises one ridged forelimb to its alien chevron of a face and swipes, like a cat grooming itself.
The two of them sit there, watching the mantis move almost in slow motion for a while while the sun sinks beneath the horizon. Bobby turns eventually - though Dave doesn't notice, too enraptured with the way each part of the mantis seems to move independent of every other. He watches his little brother stare at the creature he's brought home for a few more minutes before asking:
"So what are you going to do with it?"
Dave is quiet for a minute, oddly contemplative for a nine year-old.
"Maybe she can stay here?"
"Like, a pet?"
"Yeah." He shifts, a small smile on his face. "She climbed right onto my hand when I found her."
He looks up at Bobby, as though asking for approval - as though Bobby has the authority to let them keep it. He knows their mom would be hard-pressed to say yes.
Bobby nods, his face neutral. Dave's not sure what that means.
"Don't you think she'd be more comfortable not in the jar?"
"I can - I can get a bigger place for her." He looks back at the mantis, which cocks its head.
"Okay, maybe, then." He pauses, and Dave can't see his face but gets the sense that there's an issue. "Just…she might not make the best pet, Davey."
That can't be right. Dave looks from Bobby to the mantis, the latter of whom seems to be unaware of the ongoing deliberation outside her temporary home. Her mandibles twitch. She unfolds her slender wings, folds them back against her svelte green thorax.
"Why?"
"Well, she doesn't - can't…" Bobby stumbles over his words for a minute, struggling in the face of his brother's open, inquisitive little face. "She can't love you back - not the way you think. Not like a, a dog, or a cat."
Dave thinks on it, crossing his arms over the windowsill and setting his chin upon them. The mantis stares, unblinking with her otherworldly eyes.
Maybe she would be happier outside, after all. But at the same time, she came to him, didn't she? That could count for something.
"That's okay," he says.
He'll bring her back to the yard, he decides. Maybe they'll see each other again, despite it all.
______________________________________________________________
He spends the evening of his seventeenth birthday at home. In his heart, he knows he should be out somewhere, with someone. Or at least downstairs with his mother.
It had been a very nice day, for the record. He had gotten a new leather-bound journal, and some CDs that now sit listened front-to-back outside their cases on the side table. Betty Schultz had mailed him a card, as she always had the past few years.
And yet here he sits, eyes trained on the striated screen of the old cathode ray tube television that lives in the half-finished attic. Creature From The Black Lagoon is on, its 1950s audio crackling over the TV's poorly-maintained speaker. Gray light washes over him in the dark of the attic like the light through the water on screen; he takes a sip of his soda.
Dave has tried not to think about the sunlight through the water's surface back in Crystal Springs - he's done a piss-poor job of it so far, and the movie isn't helping the way he thought it would.
Seventeen, he thinks, and the voice in his head is Jessie Bowman's from just three or so hours ago. She smiles at him over the candles, but her proud smile is tinted with sadness. He knew it would be impossible for either of them not to think about Bobby on a day like today, but it doesn't make the distance he feels between himself and the rest of the world any less wide and cavernous.
He leans forward, chin in his hands and elbows on his folded knees, til his face is mere inches from the screen and the image barely makes coherent sense to his brain. He sees the parallel forms of Kay and the Creature swimming in black and white, almost peaceful for a mere moment before they blur into the static fuzz that emanates off the screen.
It's soft and sticks to him like dewdrops on grass, a layer of impossible static snow in the Florida heat. Dave raises one hand and presses into it experimentally. It gives under his touch, of course - all it is is static electricity - but there's something deeply comforting about the sensation all the same. He swallows, and looks around as though anyone is watching him in the darker corners of the attic. He leans forward, turning his cheek and pressing it against the screen.
It hisses in his ear, a whisper of comfort in the shadows. He closes his eyes. The Creature and the girl, never to intersect, go dark before the tears can overtake him.
______________________________________________________________
What surprises him most about the computer on board Discovery is how plainly curious it - he is.
Dave hasn't been asked this many questions about himself since university (and various job interviews and screenings, he guesses) but finds it could be a lot worse.
The computer - one H-A-L-nine-thousand, as it were - seems intent on getting a feel for the differences in his and Frank Poole's lives. He's heard the overview before they even got on board, of course. Frank's a year and a half older than he is, grew up outside Phoenix, has two parents who are still together and considered becoming a marine biologist, once upon a time.
"Space cowboy, huh?" Dave had said when Frank mentioned Arizona the first time, when they had met on Earth before the mission.
"Sorry?"
"Ah, because - you grew up in a desert, right?"
"Oh. Heh, yeah. I get it." Frank had laughed at that, stupid as it was. They could be friends, maybe, Dave thinks.
On board Discovery, Hal's scarlet gaze regards Dave with a neutral intrigue. He asks him questions from time to time, all mundane things about his life on Earth, which Dave answers to the best of his ability.
It all seems so far away, now. Half a world between him and the life he once had.
"Do you have siblings, Dave?"
That one gives him pause. He knows it's come up because Frank had mentioned being an only child at some point. It still makes the words stick in his throat.
"No," is what he settles on. Which feels immeasurably wrong. "I…did, though."
A moment of contemplation ticks away between them. He wonders if it's an off-putting answer to Hal; it certainly is to him, and he's the one who said it.
"I am sorry, Dave," says Hal. "It sounds like this is an unpleasant memory for you. I won't press any further, if this is a painful topic."
Dave thinks on that - a painful topic, an unpleasant memory. Does Hal really have any concept of that? What does a computer know of pain?
…what does a computer know of pain, or discomfort, or love, for that matter?
He swallows and puts the last question out of his mind.
"That's okay, Hal. You don't need to be sorry." He then adds: "It is, a little bit. Maybe I'll tell you another time."
Does he really want to leave that door open? He's not sure. He's not sure why he leaves it open for the ship computer in particular, either. It's been closed for half his life - and though one day he's bound to return to it, that life is light years away back on the Earth's surface.
______________________________________________________________
He's twenty, back from college in Sarasota, when he comes back to Bobby's headstone. The flowers he brought have already begun to wilt in the summer heat, and all he can think is why does this feel so stupid? when he lays the pitiful, wrinkled white blooms at the stone's base.
He wants to apologize, tell his brother how much he misses him and how he wants him to be proud of him. I'm gonna be an astrophysicist, you know?
But a stone can't talk back. Despite the name carved into it, despite the title of Beloved Son and Brother, it can't be Robert Bowman. Not anymore.
Betty sidles up beside him, slotting her hand into his.
"I'm sorry," he says - in her direction, but he's not sure if it's to her. She gives him a look.
"It's okay. You don't need to be."
A leaf, verdant and tear-shaped, skitters across the top of the headstone. For the first time in eleven years, Dave thinks about the mantis, the exact same shade of emerald.
Can't love you back, murmurs his brother's voice. Not the way you think.
He thinks about the funeral. How his father - who he and Bobby seldom saw, who he never sees at this point - wouldn't even make eye contact with him.
He thinks of sitting Shiva, and getting delicately tiptoed around when condolences normally would come, like at fourteen he was too young to understand. Like he wasn't keenly aware that his brother wasn't there anymore, why his brother wasn't there anymore.
He thinks of Betty leaning in to kiss him last summer, and her asking:
"Is this…okay?"
Is it okay? He can't possibly answer that. He had stared past her shoulder, thinking about that question, thinking about how at sixteen she had once hung on Bobby's every word.
"I don't know."
She had cocked her head, strawberry blonde hair cascading over one shoulder.
"For you, I mean?"
Oh. Not in general, or morally (though considering it like that makes it feel like he's making some kind of ordeal out of it). He's still not totally certain how to answer.
"Me? I'm fine. I'm okay."
She had kissed him again, on the corner of his mouth. In his memory, it feels like static.
He hears her call his name from just beside him, shaking him back to reality, one year six years eleven years later.
Dave inhales, finally remembering to pull oxygen into his lungs because it feels like he hasn't in a good ten minutes. His breath shakes and his hand leaves hers to grip at his own chest, to little avail.
______________________________________________________________
The score of Metropolis warbles away on the attic TV, just out of sight as Dave lays on his back just beside it on the floor. Outside, the sun has just barely begun to drop low in the sky.
He should be packing to go back to Sarasota tomorrow; he knows his mother will chide him for it sooner or later and he'll have to go back downstairs to the rest of the world. There's no reason for him not to want to go. And yet, as he lies alone, watches the intricately designed robotic woman on screen transmogrify into Brigitte Helm, he thinks to himself - I don't want this to be my life.
Absently, he runs the back of his hand over the TV screen, over the image of the false Maria. The static crackles over his skin like a lover's hum.
Can the cathode ray tubes inside the old TV feel his touch? No more than the Maschinenmensch can hear the cries of the city master's son, no.
______________________________________________________________
There's a delay of any number of hours between the Discovery One and Mission Control. Every time they radio them, it feels like it stretches longer.
This time, it's because of the false report on the AE-35's functionality.
His regular duties finished for the time being, Dave sits near one of the tiny circular windows that peer - through layer upon layer of industrially-reinforced glass - out into the black of space. Across the corridor from him, there's one Hal's wall panels.
"I'm sorry about this," he says. He doesn't anticipate Hal will say anything back, but after an extended silence, he does.
"That's quite alright," comes the reply. His tone sounds clipped. "But I cannot assure you enough that I am fine. And everything should be in perfect working order."
Dave is tired from worrying. He leans his head against the wall of the ship, listens to its mechanical heartbeat.
"What about the other 9000 units?" he asks. It's not meant as an insult, or an accusation - he's just curious. Do the other supercomputers back on Earth think like Hal, sound like him?
There's another stretch of silence. He exhales, accepting that he might have offended Hal's somewhat inscrutable sensibilities.
"What about them?"
"Are they also in perfect working order?"
"I can only assume so." There's a plaintive note in Hal's voice, an out-of-place octave that hums in the air between them. "My frame of reference for their status is limited to our telemetry. As such, I largely must compare them to my own understanding of myself."
"I'm sorry," Dave says. "That sounds difficult."
"It is not something I had considered at length." A beat. "But I appreciate your willingness to sympathize with me."
Because I understand, I think, the voice in Dave's head says quietly. And I'd like to believe you.
But Hal is a machine, he must remind himself - albeit halfheartedly, dejectedly. Who's to say if believing him means anything? It's not as though belief or faith or trust mean the same thing to Hal as they do to Dave.
"Of course, Hal."
He wants to believe him so bad it makes his stomach hurt.
______________________________________________________________
The last time he sees Betty in the flesh, he's a year from filling the position of mission commander on board the Discovery One. He's Doctor Bowman now, has been for some time.
Just like she's been Betty Fernandez for some time now.
As he pulls his shirt back on, his back to her, he wishes bitterly that he could go back to this afternoon before they ran into one another outside the bank she works at. No - further back. He wishes he could go back to being fourteen, watching his brother slip into the water in Crystal Springs.
He glances back at her. She stares straight ahead, her expression hard to place, and fiddles with the ring on her index finger.
"Apologizing now would probably be a moot point, wouldn't it?" he asks. She sighs.
"Just a bit." She meets his eye, which is almost too much for him; she's so pretty, so smart and kind. She deserves someone who knows what he wants from the world. "I just never know what to do with you, Dave. You still feel like a stranger, sometimes."
He knows this, but it still hurts.
"You deserve someone who knows how to love you," he says with a wry smile. "Jose's a great guy. I'm —"
"Sorry?" She smiles back at him. "Think about who you're apologizing to, really."
Dave furrows his brow at that, looking askance as she leans over and kisses him familiarly on the temple for the last time.
"Have a good life, spaceman."
______________________________________________________________
Dave Bowman is alone in dead silence, drifting towards the gas giant Jupiter.
He sits down heavily at a console no longer watched over by a shining red eye, instead making eye contact with a distorted, gray reflection of himself in the deadened camera.
Somewhere far away in the upper atmosphere, Frank Poole freezes to death. Dave imagines it as not unlike drowning in midair, frigid and lonely and nauseating with no one to catch you.
Not the loamy bed of the spring. Not the little brother who was in charge of watching your oxygen pump, your lifeline. Certainly not your mission commander.
His father's down-turned gaze flashes across his mind's eye. He wishes he wasn't too numb to be sick right now, because he needs something violent and unpleasant to shake him from his guilt. The bile never rises, though - he's gotten too adept at controlling himself in crisis, as much as he wishes he could simply let go, let it all go and just break down.
"God, Frank. I'm so fucking sorry."
The ship is so quiet. There's barely a buzz from its engines, like cutting Hal's cognitive functions has stalled them between stars.
It's what he should have expected, in the end. Always on a parallel trajectory, never to hold onto the things that matter - that could have mattered to him.
Dave rises and leans forward, the nylon of the half-zipped EVA suit squeaking against itself. He presses his forehead to the dead panel, eyes screwed shut as he imagines black-and-white pixels floating past in the shape of strange fish, of silent film actresses, of impossible mechanical men.
There is no more living spark under the glass. But as tears fail even to spring to his eyes, he tries to conjure in his mind the warmth of static electricity.
______________________________________________________________
Several months into their voyage, Hal asks to see his drawings.
The request takes Dave by surprise - especially since the current page his book is open to has a chicken-scratch drawing of a familiar face, one he can only pull from his memories.
But he likes Hal - as a friend, as a companion, as a presence on the ship generally - and he feels it would be rude not to. Just as he would if Frank asked. Right?
"Only if you are comfortable with doing so," Hal adds, as if sensing his apprehension.
He nods, flips the book around and holds it closer to Hal's camera.
"That's lovely. A self-portrait?"
His heart pounds at the base of his throat. He knows what it looks like - he's been told a million times since he turned seventeen how much he looks like him.
"No, not really, Hal." He moves the book back to his lap, but keeps it facing out, away from himself. "It's, um…my brother. When he was young."
As if he was ever anything but. It's an almost enviable concept on paper - young and charming and handsome forever in the minds of those who loved you.
"Your brother," Hal repeats, turning over the concept in his mind, all circuitry and wire and numbers. Is there sympathy coded into all of that software? "I see. When we discussed your siblings a few months ago —"
"Yeah. He's…not here anymore."
"This was not mentioned in your file," Hal remarks. Dave can't help but laugh at that, though it comes out flat and humorless.
"Because I never talk about it."
"Because it is…painful?"
Dave nods. His grip tightens on the sketchbook, crinkling the page a little.
"Yes. It can be."
Hal seems to think on this further, though as is expected, it's impossible to read him.
"I would not like for you to be in pain, Dave." He almost opens his mouth to try and clarify, he's not really in physical pain or anything, but doesn't know how true that is.
And he realizes - Hal is the first person ("person"..?) in a long time to tell him that.
He blinks. Hal stares back, unfazed and unmoving.
"Thank you, Hal," he says quietly. "I don't think you know how much that means to me."
______________________________________________________________
Something in him perhaps knew, deep down, that returning home wasn't an option.
In the moments before the Star Gate, beautiful and terrible in its infinite ravenous glory, envelops him, he recalls his mother's hand on his cheek just a few days before he left.
"I'm proud of you, Davey," she had said. "I hope you find what you're lookin' for up there."
At the time, he figured she was referencing her vague idea of the Discovery mission objective - something he had explained to her a few times, but it had never really stuck.
Now, he wonders.
______________________________________________________________
They often say "to err is human, to forgive divine".
Dave Bowman has never been entirely sure he believes that. He's asked forgiveness far more than three times now - isn't that what they always said, three times? - and he has no idea whether either God's forgiveness or Bobby's has reached him. Maybe it has. Maybe it never will.
"I fear I cannot express how sorry I am," Hal says to him when he finds him again.
He's long since forgiven Hal, though. Does that make him anything like a god? Of course not - Dave is just a man. Or, he used to be at one point. He isn't totally sure what he is now, but divinity is far from his reach.
Not forgiveness, though.
Dave places one spectral hand on the console, which once again hums with life. His heart - such that it is - swells at the sensation. He fixes his gaze on Hal, whose red light seems to glow brighter even than he remembers. It fills him with an almost adolescent excitement; Hal is real and he is here with him again and he's so alive, and how foolish Dave once was to have ever doubted in that.
"I am…afraid," Hal admits. He knows the feeling.
"Don't be," Dave tells him. "We'll be together."
______________________________________________________________
"Thank you," Dave says as he leads Hal through the impossible architecture of the monolith. "For coming back."
Hal trails behind only slightly, this new form and new set of protocols alien to him still. He is something that stands a little above eye level with Dave himself, though still uncertain and wavering in his image like an old digital display, a signal interrupted, a candle flickering in the dark.
Dave thinks he's beautiful, in all his uncertainty and curiosity.
"The only rational explanation for that would be chance," Hal says. "And the crew of the Leonov's own good will."
"This is true. But you had no reason to help me. Much less to come with me, here."
Hal thinks on this. Though there is no tangible change in his visage - not unlike when he was part of Discovery One - Dave can see the proverbial gears turning in his mind.
"This is what I was made for, I think." He hesitates, as though nervous about what comes next. "And I…would not like for you to undertake this mission alone."
The beating heart of the monolith and the idle murmur of the Firstborn resonate somewhere deep within the strange structure, and it's not unlike being back on Discovery, listening to its engines turn like the tides of a great dry ocean. It's not at all unlike being a man and a machine working in tandem, towards a common goal that they both once thought to be so simple.
In some ways, perhaps it still could be, like two points converging. It seems a simple enough phenomenon, but the more he thinks about it, the more it feels like an infinite sequence instead - one with a limit, sure, but repeating indefinitely all the same.
Dave has always been better with applied mathematics.
They've stopped in some winding corridor that seems to go on forever. To one side is what looks to be a mirror on the wall, and though their own wavering forms are reflected back, behind them is only swirling black. Dave thinks of the strange, few porthole windows on Discovery and how the crisp white light of the ship so often cast a glare in the shape of his silhouette, like he was looking out through them at himself standing in the vastness of space.
He moves back, closer to Hal.
"I'm glad you're here with me, you know," he says. There's a tremor in his voice, something he had assumed was no longer possible now that he is…this. Something like the Firstborn, beyond organic function and form and feeling.
Are they beyond feeling? They remain out of sight, silent watchers of a nature still largely unknown to him, but Dave can't help but think - of course they do. If he is to be like them in some way, they must know loss, they must know trepidation and sadness.
Love, even.
"I would not have it any other way," Hal tells him. There's a lilt upwards to his voice, normally so calm and even, as if he's smiling as he says it.
A peculiar breeze from nowhere in particular gusts across the back of Dave's neck like the hazy winds of a humid summer on Earth. He almost misses it, and contemplates the million what-ifs and loose ends that even his brief visit at the dawn of his reawakening couldn't truly tie up.
Funny - he's always been in orbit, in some way, hasn't he? Always circling some meaning, some purpose to his endless wandering that always just grazes past his fingertips.
Dave steps in, closing the distance between himself and Hal, and does something that causes a hush to fall over the ambient whispers in the background - he pulls him into an embrace. He closes his eyes, and imaginary - or perhaps yet unknown - constellations shine bright behind them, blue and scarlet. He feels Hal, still in flux, press into the crook of his neck in turn. Like he's always been there. Like he's always wanted to be.
Against his skin that is no longer skin, Hal feels like the gentle static of an old TV screen - susurrant, crackling, humming in his ear. He feels like all of a sudden, he's finally home.
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vera-king-hrfl · 10 months ago
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Yay! OK so I picked this up from @dark-and-kawaii (thank you bebe! I only wish my design skills were as godlike as yours and not painfully infantile 😅) And I thought it was just a super fun way to explain my HC surrounding my two lovers, Cal and Ryldinn. Obvi Ryldinn is mine, so I decide what he's like, but the Cal stuff is also specific to this story, and might not agree with your own.
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Nsft below cut, CW: discussion of sexual trauma.
Ryldinn
For those of you who have read the story and know his background, this might seem a bit odd, but just work with me. People handle things in different ways.
Ryldinn was a sex slave before he was kidnapped by the mindflayers. Basically, a prostitute whose owner kept all the money and who had no choice about who he slept with or what was done to him. He's also killed a lot of people for the same reason. He feels no guilt about that.
So it might be a surprise that he's quite submissive. He's definitely a bottom, and he likes pain. He likes to be spanked, clawed, bitten, and having his hair pulled. He likes it when Cal loses it a bit and gets rough. He never really minded his life that much before. He's never known anything else, and in his society, there was never anyone who would think there was anything wrong with that, so it doesn't affect him like it would affect, say, Astarion. There is trauma there, though it's very much buried in his psychology. He's starting to feel more agency over his own body, and now he'll only accept those things if Cal does them, but he still likes it.
He is very homosexual. He dislikes women in general and would never actually touch one in that way unless he was ordered to do so. Those of you who understand matriarchal drow society will understand why. He's gay due to past trauma. He's obviously not a gold star, but he's never been with a woman out of choice.
Part of his repressed trauma requires him to be very clean at all times. It's almost an OCD compulsion. He doesn't mind if Cal is sweaty or smells a bit like a horse, but for himself, he bathes as often and as thoroughly as possible and loves water and swimming, scented oils for his soft sensitive skin, soap, and anything that smells nice.
His body is the drow definition of perfection. He's not tall (5'7" or so) or extremely muscular but tight, hard, strong, smooth, and defined. He's lighter and stronger than he looks. His dick isn't very big but quite pretty, easy to take, or to suck. He's sinuous, lean, the elven equivalent of a gazelle or a cheetah. He has very dark grey skin, almost black, and pure white hair, almost translucent. Bright red eyes, slightly pink lips and nipples, lighter palms, and soles.
Cal
My sweet baby boy! The little brother, the peace maker. Always polite and accommodating. Possibly the only person who could have taken that weird damaged guy and made anything pleasant out of him.
Cal is a genuinely good person. He's been through literal hell, but despite the devil blood, he strains with all his being to keep his hope and his softness. He's also killed people, but he hates it, and it haunts him.
Sexually, he's actually quite dominant. He loves being asked for sex, encouraged, and being begged sets him on fire. He was a virgin before Ryldinn, but he finds his stride and discovers his likes and dislikes very quickly. He's a top, but the service variety, and he makes sure that his partner is feeling good before taking his own pleasure. He doesn't mind hurting Ryldinn as long as he knows that he's enjoying it, but he's not really into pain himself, and bottoming is not his preference, though he will do it if Ryldinn wants, and does have that occasional desire. He likes using his tail, likes when his horns are pulled on, and loves when his tiefling attributes are adored. He's a bit insecure about his heritage.
Cal is bi/pan, whatever. It wouldn’t have mattered to him if Ryldinn had been a woman or a sentient rock. He loves the person, regardless of what they look like. The fact that Ryldinn is beautiful and wants him so bad is a bonus. It's that want, that desire to be with him that makes Cal melt. He's also demi and has a hard time performing unless he loves the person and they love him back. That said, there is quite a bit of devil blood in there, and sometimes that takes over, though he tries with all his might to suppress that.
Cal is a bigger dude. I made him about 6'1" in my story, and reasonably muscular. He's a bit malnourished due to the exile and the journey, but he has a tendency to get a bit more chunky when he's comfortable. He'd definitely be softer around the middle with a bit of a belly. Nothing wrong with that! He'd be your very own squishy heater to snuggle with on cold winter nights. He is also a devilish tiefling and has that big thick ridged cock. He likes it when Ryldinn tells him how big he is, as plenty of men would.
Together
They both love kissing. Ryldinn had never been kissed before Cal did it, but now it's his favorite thing to do. He loves the soft lips and the forked tongue and the intimacy. He can kiss his tiefling for hours. Cal has kissed, had a few hot and heavy make-out sessions when he was younger, just never went further.
Eye contact. Another thing Ryldinn has avoided, but Cals eyes are so beautiful to him, the gentle burning fires, the love and desire. It just makes him feel special.
They both have a pretty high sex drive and do it often. Cal usually tops, but he also likes to go down on Ryldinn, to taste him and make him shudder. Ryldinn likes it any way Cal does. Slow soft missionary, against a wall, bent over a table, whatever his man is in the mood for. Cal's favorite position is on his back with Ryldinn riding him. He loves to watch how his body turns his lover into a shaking panting mess. He loves to see the gentle undulation of the perfect gorgeous body enjoying him so much.
They both love touch. When they're together, they're usually touching, even if it's discreet. Hand holding, tail wrapped around an ankle, petting.
Anyway, there's probably more but those parts are still to come so I'll leave it here. I hope this helps you to understand where I'm going with this. I've had so much amazing encouragement and feedback from you guys it's inspired me to go deeper into the personality of these characters and how I see them. Thank you all so much for tolerating me! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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lullaebies · 2 years ago
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Do you have any headcanons about Heleagon's intimacy? Not like raunchy things but like what the general feeling of their touches and kisses to each other are like? Where do they like to kiss the most on each other, do they cuddle, what do they do after sleeping together or things like that? <3
As I do write very often about them, intimacy stuff (and raunchy stuff 😂 my AO3 page is certainly not PG-13) are definitely kinda already are vaguely cemented in my mind. I'll write some of the softer stuff down. Helaegon Intimacy Headcanons
Helaena has more of a butterfly touch when she first reaches out. It drives Aegon kind of insane, because he is a very firm and feeling when he touches, but Helaena gives herself time to familiarize herself with the feeling, touching his knuckles or wrists and reaches to his arms just gliding her palm over his body and bones. She likes to have his face cupped in her hands, it gives her control of him somewhat and tbh he just has holdable cheeks, that man. You can and will hear Aegon gulping when she fixates on something like his lips and lets her thumb brush over it to feel. It doesn't happen often, but when it does Aegon kind of has a mind reformatting moment like... 'uhm what the fuck just happened' [this pertains more to younger helaegon]
Aegon is more of an embracer, though he is too prideful to admit it. Helaena has a softer frame and it's easy to lean into her and hold her. When he's drunk and in his feelings it takes more precedence.
Helaena likes to kiss Aegon's nose! It is in general a very safe area to kiss, and it brings about a more surprised expression on Aegon that makes him somewhat more familiar in intimate situations while also keeping light-heartedness during kissing. When she's more feeling it, she'd likely go to the corner of his mouth to hint him what to do or signal approval.
Aegon's a hungry touch starved mess when he gets going. He likes kissing at more risque areas [we are speakng relatively here as this is not a smutty imagine] - jawline, neck, crook of the neck, shoulders. He's an ear nibbler, too, though he also kind of does it to be annoying. I think any place that he can vaguely hide from her eyes and be more in control is a place for him. Places where he can't quite feel rejected from, that would make her responsive and make her find a way to hold him. He Kinda Needs That.
Helaena, if in his arms, needs to feel secure. After realizing touch is incoming, there are expectations to how it will come. A firm, stable grip on her waist or back is easier for her to regulate herself - heaviness of touch is well accepted and she return it too. Funnily enough, loose touch makes her more annoyed. Only she's allowed to be tentative in this house!
They are the type to need a breather after sleeping together and needs their few minutes but also the type to seek out warmth in sleep and end up hugging anyway. It makes them rather embarassed at the beginning. Later on, they both just pretend to be asleep to let peaceful moments like that last longer.
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iipaibai · 10 months ago
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on one of your other post you said you thought mira was a pleasure dom so what about the others? do you have any ideas about what roles juvia and erza would have in a relationship? Id love to see your thoughts on those 3 so if you have any headcannons please share
ACTUALLY I DO
For Erza, she’d def a switch, dom learning switch, but a switch nonetheless. I’d say she’s a “brat tamer through pleasure” dom
-like she doesnt mind having an obedient sub, but when it comes to picking and choosing her fav, it’s brats who can’t follow through with their word.
-shes the type to walk through like a barnes and noble with you holding hands, then, when you decide to tease her in front of the employee minding the cash register, she looks at you with a straight face, but a tiny twitch in the corner of her mouth has your face going so pale it’s almost transparent(at least now she can see whats going on inside your head!).
-in a less public setting, she often has little competitions with you. about what? everything basically. bets on what the second star closest to the solar system was(you got it wrong), bets on which breed of dog is best for guarding the gate to an underwater kingdom(that was a fun one to get into-still wrong tho), even bets on who was gonna win the super bowl(you got it right but changed your answer last second and she laughed at you). during those bets, however, the stakes are always much higher than anyone else would expect. you would bet on who’d be the dom later that night. Although she didn’t mind it when you’d take the reins, she didn’t enjoy it as much as when you’d be tied up with your jaw slacked and your eyes so far back in your head that you could see what would’ve been your brain, if not for Erza pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, barely giving time to recover between each one.
Juvia, however, would depend heavily on who her partner is. If her partner was a sub, she’d dom them. But, if her partner is a dom, she’d be a sub. She’s sort of like water in the way that she flows (get it?) around and fits perfectly with whatever you happen to be.
-For sub s/o’s, she’s very active. Mira would be a sleeping bear, but Juvia would be an extremely active bear (!). She has an extremely high sex drive and really does enjoy grabbing the back of your hair and pushing you back down into her core to have you continuing to pleasure her while you’re just trapped there, unable to do anything besides lick and suck until she cums<3
-even though she’s active, she isn’t so mean. She’s only mean when she really does need to be, like if you’re disrespecting her in front of anyone at the fairy tail guild, she laughs it off with humility and grace in front of them. But when doors shut, so does her act of patience. She drags you by your hair around your shared apartment and does everything in the book to make you cry out and beg for forgiveness. Overstim, degrading, slapping, kissing, biting, touching, rubbing, holding, punching, cutting, drowning(in some scenarios and only if she has had explicit permission from you).
-since you guys have been together for a little over a decade, she knows your boundaries well, so she never goes overboard with anything, including punishments.
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teatitty · 2 years ago
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Aizawa is a dom because no way a normal 15-16 year old would come up with the idea of a binding cloth [you all call it capture scarf in fics but Aizawa canonically refers to it as this] as a weapon choice and then proceed to not only use said binding weapon for the next 14-15 years but also brag about how you can't break out of it or tear it apart
Also? These shots speak for themselves. On top of that Aizawa's whole thing is hating being helpless/useless and being at his most comfortable when he's in control of a situation. He's a dom fellas
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