#sometimes public consensus is wrong

[eumenidaes]

Anyway several of the results of the people’s choice awards this year seems to indicate to me that the people are stupid

[goxjo]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ. 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝 ﾟ･｡･ﾟft. gojo, choso, sukuna, toji

♡ warnings. no reader pronouns, fem anatomy! reader, technically hate fucking, reader is initially very pissed, he is too but he wants to make up, no curse au (choso + sukuna), everything is consensual. gojo cw: some reckless driving, semi-public sex, doggy, getting caught, exhibitionism. choso cw: reader is in a bunny lingerie costume, slight! pet play, suddenly popping a boner, v! fingering. sukuna cw: petty arguments, jealousy, v! fingering. toji cw: jealousy, implied size difference, kabedon!!!, cunnilingus, wall sex. 18+ only, MDNI

♡ a/n. idk if you can already tell by now - I usually make these whenever I have new banners / formats to try out. I really love that heart bubble thingy on the title lol + idk, arguments like these feel a little endearing sometimes. this was very fun to write. enjoy!

♡ links. GEN. MASTERLIST ┆ JJK MASTERLIST

[ ❤︎ ] GOJO SATORU

The car ride home tonight is silent for the most part. It’s your car, your hands on the steering wheel, and therefore your rules. Maybe you haven’t been looking at your speedometer but in case you haven’t noticed, your anger adds more pressure to your foot on the pedal, and you’re a few kilometers past the highway speed limit.

All this because of some petty argument and you barely even remember what it’s about. All you know is, it’s one that made you miss an exit, and it’s another 20 minutes before the next one.

“Baby, slow down.” He sighs with a tinge of worry and slight irritation in his voice. He’s not really keen on the idea of having to watch you flirt with an officer to get out of a speeding ticket. He’ll throw puppy dog eyes to the officer himself if he has to, but he’s putting a pin on that thought for now. There must be something that could remedy the situation (you) for now.

“Don’t talk to me,” you deadpan, lips pursing in your annoyance, eyes dead fixed on the road.

“Fine. Then, I won’t,” he hums, an idea suddenly popping up in his head. “I won’t talk to you. I’ll just…” He fiddles with the hems of your skirt, knuckles lightly stroking your plump and exposed skin.

“What the hell are you doing?” You shift in your seat, quickly taking a glance at your boyfriend.

“Not talking.” It starts with just his fingers, now it’s a full hand, and it’s squeezing and massaging your thigh, reaching higher and higher up till it’s a hair away from your clothed sex.

“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Satoru.” You gulp, and he doesn’t fail to notice your breath has shifted, taking deeper inhales and longer exhales the closer he gets to your panties.

And he knows it’s a dangerous game. But hey, at least you’re not in danger of getting a ticket anymore. He’s glad you’re distracted. One finger hooking on the waistband of your panties is enough to make your breath hitch. Watching you chew on your bottom lip puts a strain in his pants knowing you’re trying your hardest not to be the first to break. You’re so cute when you’re angry, focus never breaking when you reach the woodsy outskirts of your exit, and he wonders if you took the wrong turn.

“Why are we here—”

“You fucking idiot.” You’re fuming as you unbuckle your belt, making your way to the backseat.

“I fucking love you.”

….

He’s never seen you cum so fast before, never seen you more vocal, fingers raking into the leather of your back seat, not a care in the world how expensive it’s going to be to have it replaced. He should piss you off more if it means he’ll have you on all fours again in your car in the middle of the woods, begging and screaming for him to fuck you deeper and deeper a nearby town could mistake your cries for a mating call.

He finds a neat little discovery too when a light shines on your window, practically blinding you, and your insides coil around his cock he’s almost sure he was locked in knots. You’re so fucking hot when you’re embarrassed, unable to help the moans that escape your lips even when a cop knocks on your window.

[ ❤︎ ] KAMO CHOSO

“I already told you I’m sorry!”

You won’t budge, half-sulking-half pissed with your back turned to him on the bed, sitting on your folded legs. You refuse to talk to him too so he settles with hugging you from behind, bunny tail pressing against his crotch. You feel his fingers fidgeting against your stomach, clearly remorseful for what he did. Your boyfriend is the last person on earth who could forget about special dates, let alone an anniversary — or so you thought.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please forgive me.” And you want to forgive him. But you had already spent the last few weeks finding the best anniversary costume present, only to be met with questioning heart eyes at the bunny ears and frilly lingerie, wondering what’s the occasion.

“It’s fine, forget it. Just leave me alone.” You try to wriggle out of his hold, only grinding against him kn the process.

“Won’t let go till I know you’ll allow me to make up for it.”

“Stop, it’s done okay — wait, are you…” At first, you thought it was your puffy tail pressing on your ass but you realize that’s definitely not the case when the thing behind you tripled in size.

“Yeah.” He buries his face deeper in your hair, taking in the sweet smell of you despite your little tantrum. His thumb tries to graze your underboob, fiddling with the frilly wires, popping in and out of the garment, obviously trying to restrain himself. “Sorry, you’re just… so soft.”

“Bunny, I know you’re mad and you can tell me all about it.” His hand reaches for your clothed pussy, fingernails scratching your slit behind the fabric. He finally puts the garment aside, spreading your wet, puffy folds with his pointer and ring fingers before sliding his middle into your slippery hole. “Go on, I’m listening.”

[ ❤︎ ] RYOUMEN SUKUNA

“Don’t ignore me, you.”

“He’s my childhood friend! Just a friend, okay?! Why can’t you understand that?”

“He could be the dog of your sister-in-law’s neighbor, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t want you fucking talking to that guy anymore.”

“It doesn’t mean anything!”

“So? I don’t like how he looks at you — hey, don’t leave! Don’t get mad — c’mon!” He catches up with you when your pace quickens as you bolt through the door. Tattooed arms coming from behind you lock tightly around your waist, his face burrowing into your neck.

“Let me go!”

“Fuck no.” He’s still as a rock the first few seconds as you try to wriggle out of his hold. When you realize it’s futile, he begins to pepper kisses on your exposed shoulder, trailing kisses along your neck up to your temple, as if he’a getting off that easy.

“Ryo, stop!”

“Uh-uh.” He runs his nose across your ear before leaving breathy kisses on your lobe. He’s a fucking menace for knowing exactly what makes you weak in the knees and using that against you.

“If you think that’s going to work, I-I — ohh, fuck.” Your head cranes backwards, leaning on his hard chest when his hand slides down your pants. Heat rises to your cheeks in embarrassment when you realize he found you wet despite all this. Or maybe it’s because of this?

“I don’t know? Seems to be working.” Because it fucking is. And you hate that it is. But his hand — black fingernails grazing your clit sloppy, wetting it with your juices — it feels so hot against your pussy at this stupid moment. His free hand reaches for your tit underneath your shirt around the same time as when he started pumping digits into your hole.

You’re not getting out of this alive.

“You still gonna talk to him?”

“Who?”

[ ❤︎ ] FUSHIGURO TOJI

“I fuckin’ swear, I don’t know how that girl got my number.”

“Don’t care. Go away, Toji.” Standing and towering in front of you, he tries to block you in every which direction. He doesn’t budge. Sneaking past him isn’t an option either as those freakishly long arms could easily prevent you from going anywhere.

You didn’t mean to read his messages. But when an unknown number pops out of your boyfriend’s notifications with kissy emojis followed by a steamy shot of her backside, you can’t help but be… curious.

You’re not sure what to think. On the one hand, you know Toji would never cheat on you or lie to you about these things. On the other hand, you also just found out this isn’t the first time this girl has sent him anything — nor the first time anyone’s sent him anything in the whole duration of your relationship.

“Believe me. I ignore every single one of these text messages, I don’t know how they keep finding me!”

“Yeah, well you could’ve told me.” Toji sighs realizing only now that he should’ve. He didn’t think it mattered or that you would be this bothered when you found out. Clearly, he was wrong.

You take his pause as your cue to walk past him, but a big hand slams to the wall next to you, preventing you from walking any further. His hand slides higher as he leans closer to the wall, forcing you to back up and hide in his shadow.

His lips are a breath away, eyes staring at yours through his lashes. His free hand cups your chin, gently forcing you to listen to him carefully. “I never told you because I didn’t care about any of them.”

His hand reaches for the skirt of your dress, balling the fabric into his fist as he raises the fabric till your thighs are exposed. “Why would I care about any of them when I have you,” he slides his hand into your panties, stroking stripes along your wet slit, “and this pussy.”

You all but melt into his touch, pussy squirming underneath his hold. Toji slowly kneels to the floor, taking your panties with him before throwing them aside. He pushes your knees aside, staring right at you as his hot breath fans your exposed cunt. “This pussy. Always so fucking ready for me.”

His wet muscle parts your folds, licking heavenly stripes on your throbbing clit. You lean on the wall for dear life, one hand above your head, the other on your partner’s head, shoving him closer to your pussy as you ride his mouth.

“I’m changing my number, I promise.”

♡ reblogs & comments are appreciated ♡

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Bokuto Koutarou x f!reader x Miya Atsumu ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

>fanart_credit (l->r): kurolah, __kiyomaru

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 1530

>contents: biting, brief sweat/armpit fetish, panty stealing/used panty fetish, bokuto and atsumu masturbate in the same room (gay tendencies), non-consensual photo/videography, sharing of said non-consensual images, voyeurism, masturbation (m! and f!receiving), mentions of squirting, non-explicit cunnilingus, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), double penetration in 2 holes, fingering, anal (f!receiving), creampies, mentions of bo and tsum sucking each other off 😋

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who are filthy little devils- not in measure of cleanliness (usually) but in depravity. they’re the textbook definition of perverted and you, their precious little roomie, are the main target of their lewd and lascivious behavior.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who are way too handsy- they poke and prod at you, they wrestle you down to the nearest surface and tickle you until you cry laughing. they aren’t above biting, either- quick to hold you down and bite the soft skin of your thighs, hips, and belly. not their faults you’re so much smaller and weaker than they are, not their faults you make it so easy. it doesn’t even stop in public; the last time you’d gone shopping atsumu took your bags in what you’d thought was a sweet gesture, only for bokuto to swoop in and pick you up, carrying you over his shoulder with his hand squeezing at your ass.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who practically live at the gym and not with you. and god, they’re so gross sometimes—they love to suffocate you between them as soon as they come home from a rigorous workout, your face pressed up into their sweaty, muscular pecs. it’s even worse when atsumu decides he wants to play a mean prank, wrapping himself around you with a wicked grin and sticking your face into his damp armpit, the smell of his sweat and deodorant co-mingling in your nostrils. you hate that you kind of like it, but you’d never tell them that.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who take up most of the space on the couch during movie nights. their thighs are huge—pounds of muscle that are definitely bigger than your head—so you usually end up on someone’s lap. they’ll fight over you and who you get to sit on; atsumu will get all mean and bokuto will get all pouty when they think you’ve been spending too much time with the other. you try to compromise by lying across both of their laps and they’re satisfied, smiling stupidly as atsumu pets your head and bokuto smooths his hands across your thigh.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who, despite fighting over you, love to get off with your panties. they work together like bandits, one—usually atsumu—keeping you in conversation with a story he pulled out of his ass while the other disappears to your room, grinning as he hits the x that marks the spot: your dirty laundry. he knows he’s struck gold when what he wants is right on top of the pile. it’s a thong, a real cute one with little cherries all over it- but that’s not important. what is important is that it’s the one you’d just worn to the gym.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who hide out in atsumu’s room late after you’ve gone to sleep. they’ll sit across from each other, atsumu on his bed and bokuto on the chair, tossing the soiled pair of panties back and forth as they jerk off together. they pant and hiss, wet slaps of their fists hitting their heavy balls and beefy thighs. they’re unabashed- eyes on each other as they lift the thong to their faces in tandem, cursing as they thumb at the drooling slits of their cocks. they both cum so hard that night- rippling abs painted with milky white lines as their chests heave; boyish, lustful and adrenaline-laced grins on their faces.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who trade upskirts and pics of your ass that they take throughout each day. they know it’s wrong and that they shouldn’t, but they can’t help it! seeing a photo of your perky little ass peeking out from under your big t-shirt (bokuto notices it’s actually his shirt; makes him tingle with possessiveness) as you nap on your bed just gets them so hard, they have to keep taking more for their collection. it’s not like they let anyone else see- it’s just that if atsumu walks past your room while your bent over trying to get something that rolled under your bed, he’s gonna quietly pull his phone out and snap a few photos. you’ve given him the perfect view of your panty-clad pussy and ass, who would he be to not take advantage of it? and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t share those delicious images with his best friend-slash-roommate?

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who take you to the gym with them so they can “teach” you how to use the equipment. they show you how to deadlift and how to work different muscles and how to engage your core- all too convenient excuses to press themselves up on you, broad and solid and hard against your back, and to get their hands all over you in your tight little workout outfit. and when they offer to help you stretch? well, they’re just being good friends, of course! bokuto’s got you on your back with your leg stretched so far up that your knee is touching your shoulder and he’s shushing your little whines of exertion, telling you he needs to “stretch ya nice ‘n deep, juuust like that.” it has you a little flustered and atsumu a lot jealous, eyes narrowed at the two of you and the compromising position his counterpart has you in. despite that feeling, he can’t deny the fact that his cock is stiffening up in his loose sweatpants.

roommate!atsumu, who has his ear against the wall when he hears what sounds like moaning coming from your room one late night when he can’t sleep. he’s right, it is moaning- it’s you moaning. he feels his cock stiffening up in his boxers, reaching down to palm and squeeze at himself as he imagines how you touch your own body. are you using your fingers, or a dildo? are you lying on your back, or humping into a pillow? he groans at the thought of you doing any of those things. on the other side of the hall in roommate!bokuto’s room, said man is in a similar situation. he’s got his lip between his teeth as he fucks into a fleshlight, eyes closed as he pretends it’s your hot little pussy that his cock is twitching inside of instead.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who would rather be dead than let some lowlife loser get into your pants. you don’t even bother trying to hookup with people anymore, deeming it a useless endeavor after the first several times that your roommates scared away the people you’d brought over. but they couldn’t care less. you’re theirs, whether you know it or not. you don’t need dick from some tinder guy who probably won’t even eat your pussy or make you cum until you’re sobbing. you need bokuto and atsumu. they can guarantee that they’ll have you in tears, screaming their names as you drench them and yourselves in yet another spray of squirt from your battered cunt.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who just cant wait any longer. they box you in after a movie, your back pressed into the wall as they murmur to you how bad they want you and how good they’ll treat you. it’s atsumu that can’t keep his hands to himself, pulling you against the hard plane of his chest as he holds your hips and does his best to convince you. he keeps you in place when bokuto kneels to yank your shorts down your thighs, pulling one of your legs out and throwing it over his shoulder. he wastes no time, tongue digging in like he’d just uncovered a 5-course meal. atsumu keeps you steady as you cry out for them, muttering “see? what’d we tell ya, baby? never gonna need those assholes again- not when ya got us” into your ear.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who bend and contort you into so many positions as they claim you. the strength and stamina of the two is overwhelming, staving off their own orgasms while they make you cum upwards of 4 times. they stretch your pussy so wide, and when they think they’ve fucked their shapes into you enough for now, they do the same to your asshole. it’s agonizing- how gentle they are, that is. they’re so slow and careful as they prep you, taking turns using their fingers to loosen the tight ring of muscle and when you’re finally ready, your cute little hole gaped and winking at them, they take you- one at a time, over and over.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who don’t fight over you anymore. they’re good at sharing you- they switch off on who gets to fuck your pussy and who gets to fuck your ass. and there’s nothing to be jealous about either, ‘cause whoever gets to fuck your pussy gets your cum sucked off of their cock by the other, so it’s a win-win for both of them. instead they focus their boundless energy into making you feel good every day—after all, if they keep your pussy wet and sore and stuffed full of cum then you won’t be looking for anyone else, right?

>authors_note: hey you attract what you fear right?

>ahhhh i’m so scared of bokuto and atsumu railing me while they kiss each other ahhhhh

>thank you for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

© loko4koko 2024

[celiastjamesoscar]

No Hard Feelings pt 3

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: Sam ran. But for the first time, someone chased after her.

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: light swearing, insecure Sam, extremely fluffy

AN: This is the last part of the series :( but I will probably continue it will small one-shots every now and again!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 3.59K (a little shorter than normal 😬)

“Oh! Ava, this is my-” You weren’t quite sure what Sam was to you at this point, “Yeah, this is my Sam,” you finished with a giant smile. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Ava announced as she stuck out her hand.

Sam gave the girl a tight-lipped smile as she climbed out of the truck and walked toward you. She felt sick to her stomach as she watched you talk to the girl; she knew she had to leave. “Sam? Is everything alright?” You asked with worry laced in your voice, and Sam couldn’t take it anymore. When Sam felt your hand grab her hand and turn her to you, she quietly whispered, “I’m fine,” before walking away from you.

You watched as Sam walked further away from you when you felt someone violently shove you. Your back collided with Sam’s truck, “what the fuck, Ava?”

The more petite girl pointed a finger at your face, “You are going to go after Sam right now, okay? Right now!” Ava exclaimed before pulling you off the truck and pushing you in the direction Sam walked off to. You gave Ava a confused look before you followed after Sam.

You weren’t quite sure why she would take off and leave, but you had a feeling her insecurities got the best of her. Sometimes, Sam would get quiet when you two were out in public together, and she saw someone take an interest in you. You would politely shut down their attempt to flirt with you, but Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling of being enough, and after thinking about it, you knew that was bothering her.

“Sam?” You called out as you entered the bathroom, and you rounded the corner and saw Sam leaning with her hands on the edge of the sink as she stared down at it. “Sam,” you whispered as you approached her and gently placed your hand on her back and rubbed small, comforting circles, “Talk to me, please.”

With a shuddering breath, Sam pushed off the sink and turned to face you as she crossed her arms over her chest, and you knew her defenses were up. “There’s nothing to talk about,” Sam muttered as her eyes stared down at the floor, refusing to meet your gaze. “Yes, there is. What’s wrong?” You questioned with a soft, caring voice, and Sam looked up to meet your worried gaze, and her heart couldn’t take it. She pushed past you and made for the door, but you got to the door before her and locked it. “No, you don’t get to leave until you talk to me,” you stated as you walked toward Sam, and she walked backward until her back hit the edge of the sink, “What is wrong?”

You stared at Sam in tension-filled silence while her eyes burned holes in the floor and her mind ran rampant with thoughts of insecurity. The sound of a toilet flushing pulled your attention away from the woman before you, and you watched as an older woman left the stall and washed her hands. The woman dried her hands off as you and Sam stayed in awkward silence, and only when she tried to open the door did you speak up. “Oh, sorry about that,” you said as you walked to the door and unlocked it for the lady, “This is a consensual kidnapping.”

A small, dry laugh left Sam’s lips when she saw the face the woman gave you before quickly leaving the bathroom. “You know, you always make me smile or laugh when I need some happiness,” Sam admitted with a small frown, and you reached out and carefully took her hands in yours, “You always cheer me up.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You questioned with an eyebrow raised as you interlaced your fingers with Sam's and pulled yourself closer to the woman. “It is,” Sam replied with a smile as her eyes quickly locked with yours before darting away again, “But it’s just hard. For me, at least.”

You were confused by what Sam meant, but you would wait a millennium for Sam to open up about her feelings. “What is?” You asked with a loving tone. Sam just shrugged her shoulders in response; she wasn’t ready to completely open up to you just yet, but she wanted to let you know that she was getting there.

“It’s nothing I want to talk about,” Sam admitted with a small frown, and you gave her hands a gentle squeeze before you let go and pulled her into a loving embrace. “It’s okay, Sam. Take as much time as you need,” you stated as you rubbed Sam’s back, and you physically felt the older woman melt into you, “But not too long! I have hoes wrapped around the block, waiting to get a piece of me!”

Sam chuckled at your words and felt the anxiety in her chest loosen up. You always had that effect on her, and she needed that in her life: someone who could make her forget about all her troubles and the skeletons in her closet. “Oh yeah? Like who?” Sam asked.

“It’s top secret. Names are extremely confidential when it comes to me.”

The older woman smiled at your response; then she took a deep breath before she finally asked the question that made her nauseous. “Are you talking about Ava?”

It was almost at lightning speed the way you pulled apart from San and stared into her eyes. The look on your face was mixed between bewilderment, shock, and a little bit of disgust. You pretended to fake-gag before you answered the question. “Oh my god, that street rat?! I’d rather die than give her a chance. And besides, she already has a girlfriend, and she wanted to introduce you to her. She thought we could go on a double date sometime,” you finished as you started to trail off toward the end, in fear that offering the double date was too much and it might scare Sam even more.

But to your surprise, a smile grew on Sam’s face as her eyes sparkled with a hint of hope. “That sounds nice,” she replied.

“Good. Good!” You excitedly said with a love-struck grin that made Sam’s heart flutter. She couldn’t believe it, but you had somehow made her fall for you. “But seriously though, Sam. We need to talk at some point about this, about us. But if you aren’t ready for that, then I will wait for you,” you explained, and even though Sam was terrified of this talk, she knew there were some things she needed to get off her chest.

“Okay. We can talk, just not in some sketchy ass bathroom,” Sam joked with a small laugh, and you quickly looked around. “Really? This place seems like it’d be the perfect place for a romantical date,” you remarked with a sly tone.

Sam pushed off the sink counter, grabbed your hand, and pulled you toward the door. “Come on, we have a movie to watch,” Sam said as she opened the door and held it for you, “And just so you know, I did not consent to that kidnapping.”

“Oh, whatever! It made you laugh!” You observed as gently bumped your shoulder against Sam’s while you two walked back to her truck. “I was laughing at the old woman’s face, not you!” She defended.

“Mhmmmm. If you say so,” you replied with a soft smile as you looked over your shoulder at Sam, and you couldn’t help it when your eyes drifted down to her lips. They seemed so soft despite being slightly chapped, and you wondered if they would fit perfectly with yours.

“Stop staring at me,” Sam said when she felt your gaze, and she bit back a laugh when she saw your pupil blown eyes staring at her lips as your mouth was slightly parted. If she were at home alone with you, she would have kissed that look off your face.

“Sorry,” you muttered while embarrassment crept up your neck, and you looked down at the ground. When you reached the trunk, Sam climbed into the bed and got comfortable while you gave Ava a thumbs up. Your best friend was with the truck in front of you and was with her girlfriend. You just hoped you would leave this night with a girlfriend of your own.

You sent Mindy a glance once Ava turned away, and the film geek made eye contact with you while she did the cutthroat motion. The look on your face was priceless as you gave Mindy a look of fear and disbelief before you quickly climbed into the truck bed to join Sam and sat down next to her.

The woman was sitting with her back against the rear panel, and you wanted to take things to the next level with her. Not in a sexual way, just a comforting way. You couldn’t help how your mind was filled with dirty thoughts as you stared at Sam’s veiny hands and the tight shirt that hugged her muscular arms so well. You wanted Sam to wrap her arms around you and never leave, and before you could even think, your lips spoke for you. “Can I sit between your legs?”

The question left your lips in record time, and you couldn’t even look up at Sam when you spoke. You were getting ready to apologize when Sam stretched out her legs and opened up her legs, silently telling you that it was okay. You gave Sam that soft smile you only reserved for her as you settled in between Sam’s legs with your back against her front, and to your surprise, Sam wrapped her arms around your torso and pulled you into her. She then kissed your clothed shoulder and placed her open hands on your leg, and you interlaced your hands with hers.

The movie began to play on the screen while you relaxed into Sam’s hold. She was glad you were here with her and no one else. You chose to spend your time with her, making her feel loved in a way she didn’t know existed.

Throughout the movie, there were times when Sam would run her hands up and down your thighs, place a kiss on your cheek or even your neck if she was feeling bold and you were soaking up the attention. You also noticed that Sam would pull you closer to her and kiss your neck only when Ava would walk by, and you could practically feel the anger radiating off of Sam. You had told her not to worry about Ava, but the poor woman couldn’t help the anger she felt rise in her chest whenever your best friend would walk by. However, Sam didn’t know that you had texted Ava and told her to walk by a few times, so that Sam would give you some more attention and love.

As the movie continued, you fully relaxed against Sam’s front and never felt safer. There was a feeling of comfort that no walls or defenses could ever give you, and it was all coming from the feeling of being in Sam’s arms. When she wrapped her muscular arms around your body and pulled you close, there were no words you could use to describe the comfort and love you felt. Even though you two weren’t official, Sam was your home, and you would never let her go.

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

“Thank you for inviting me to the movies. I had a perfect time. You know, apart from you freaking out and trying to leave me, of course,” you joked with a giant smile. Sam had taken you back to your apartment and helped you carry up the blankets you brought with you. You two were in your bedroom as you placed the blankets back in your closet.

“I didn’t freak out,” Sam grumbled while standing awkwardly in the doorway. She had never been inside your room before, and she felt like she was invading your privacy. “Um, the fuck you mean by ‘I didn’t freak out?’ If I recall correctly, you punched me in the face, and screamed ‘I’m married!’ And took off running,” you retorted.

“Okay, now you’re just being dramatic. And stop stealing lines from ‘Peal,’” Sam defended while crossing her arms and sulking.

“You’ve seen that movie? I didn’t know that you liked horror movies.”

“Have you met my sister? The little shit would probably combust if I didn’t watch a scary movie with her at least once a month.”

“Ohhhh, so you’ll watch a scary movie with Tara but not with me? I see how it is,” you snarked with sass in your voice. You had finished putting up the blankets and sat on the edge of your bed and stared up at Sam. Part of you was hoping that Sam would push you down onto the bed and take you right then and there, but you knew the woman wouldn’t. Damn her stupid morals.

“Don’t even pull that card. I just watched a movie with you tonight, so you should be grateful,” Sam reasoned with a playful smile. She loved the banter you two had, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“We watched ‘Corpse Bride!’ That’s not a scary movie!” You exclaimed. “All romantic movies are scary movies,” Sam mumbled her breath, and you scoffed at her words.

“Whatever,” you responded with a fake eye roll as you stood up from your bed and, walked to your door, and opened it. “Are you kicking me out already?” Sam playfully asked.

“Yes, because apparently, I’m not good enough for you to watch scary movies with,” you replied sternly as you went to your front door and opened it, “Now go on! Get!”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Sam stated with a smile, and that single smile made your knees weak and your chest fill up with butterflies. “Yeah, but I’m your asshole,” you replied with a love-struck grin.

“You better be. Can’t have you cheating on me already,” Sam joked with a smile, “So what are you going to do the rest of the night?”

“Why? So you can try and make a move on me? You disgusting pervert! But I’ll probably watch ‘X’ or something. Lorraine is so fine. God, the things I would let that woman do to me. She is,” You made a chef’s kiss motion with your hands, and Sam quickly grabbed that hand and forced it down to your side.

“Alright, that’s enough. She looks like my sister,” Sam coldly stated as she fought off the jealousy and insecurities in her chest. She already knew that she was not the best for you, and the fact that you were attracted to someone who looked like her sister didn’t help at all.

“Exactly! If I can’t have the Carpenter sister I want, I’ll just go after-” Sam couldn’t handle listening to you anymore, so she grabbed your cheeks and forced her lips into yours, shutting you up. The kiss wasn’t pretty, but you would be damned if it wasn’t perfect. It was rushed and sloppy as your lips continued clashing with each other, but that’s all Sam has ever known. She has never known what it’s like to be treated with gentleness, and you wanted to be the first to show her.

You reached up and gently cupped Sam’s cheeks and pulled her away from your lips, and you swore you heard the faintest whimper. The look on Sam’s face was something you would never forget: eyes that were completely black and filled with a mix between love and lust, her swollen lips that were slightly parted as she panting. Before Sam could question you, you pulled her into a loving and gentle kiss, and Sam sighed. Your lips danced together while you two would occasionally take in a breath whenever you could. The soft feeling of Sam’s lips against yours was heaven as you tasted them, and you were sure you could get drunk off them. Only when oxygen became a problem did you two separate.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” you mumbled against Sam’s lips and quickly pecked her lips, “I can’t believe all I had to do was hit on your sister.”

“Yeah, let’s not talk about that,” Sam replied before clearing her throat and opening your front door, but you quickly shut it. “Don’t leave. Please,” you pleaded with beady eyes, and Sam knew she could never say no to you.

You pulled Sam back into your room, and you dropped her hand while you went to brush your teeth. You gave Sam a spare one, and for the first time, you two brushed your teeth together. “We need to get a double sink,” you declared while rinsing your mouth out. “Why?” Sam asked while doing the same thing. “So we do normal things together. Obviously,” you dryly replied.

“Y/N, we kissed once, and you are already planning our future together,” Sam acknowledged as she leaned against the bathroom door frame, and you pushed past her and got in bed. “Are you saying you don’t want to be with me?” You weakly asked, and Sam felt her heart rip out of her chest at your words. You weren’t ordinarily insecure, but when it came to your Sammy, you wanted to be perfect for her.

She moved from the doorframe and sat down next to you. She took your hands into hers as she spoke, “Y/N, I would be the biggest liar on this planet if I said I didn’t want to be with you. You make me feel things I didn’t know existed, and all I want to do is wake up with you in my arms every morning. There’s just things I wish were different about me.”

“Like what?” You asked with a disbelief laugh. Sam was perfect in your eyes, and you wouldn’t change anything about her.

Sam took a deep breath before she finally admitted the insecurities that have been plaguing her since her first date with you. “I’m worried, Y/N. And I’m terrified that I’m not good enough for you. I mean, you are young, and you still have your entire life ahead of you; you can do so much better than me,” Sam admitted in a broken voice as tears welled in her eyes, and you felt your heart shatter at her confession.

“Oh, Sam,” you whispered as you pulled the older woman into a bone-crushing hug while you rubbed her back. Sam gripped your back and held you close to her body, afraid that if she let off just a little bit, you would disappear forever. “I wish I was better. For you,” Sam choked into your neck. She hated being this vulnerable, especially in front of you, but she needed some comfort from you. She needed to know that you would be with her and not give up on her, even though you two just got back from your second date.

You pulled back from the hug after a few moments, and your heart broke at the broken look on Sam’s face. You had never seen her this vulnerable before, and you planned to shower her with love and affection. “Sam, I don’t care about your past or who your father is. I only care about you and your well-being. I want to be there with you on all your bad days, whether you have a cold or saw your father. Hell, I’ll even be there for you when you murder someone,” you joked, and you felt your heart swell when you pulled a small laugh from Sam, “The point is, I’m always going to be here for you, whether you want me to or not.”

The only thing going through Sam’s mind was her thinking about what she did to deserve you. She wasn’t a saint by any means, but she didn’t deserve all this love.

As if you were reading her mind, you leaned in and kissed Sam again, and Sam sighed against your lips as she felt all her worries disappear.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” She mumbled against your lips. “You just had your tongue down my throat, and you’re seriously asking me that?” You joked with a small laugh while Sam refused to meet your gaze.

“I don’t know, I just thought it would be nice to ask you,” Sam embarrassedly stated, “But you don’t have to give me an answer just yet; you can think about it.”

A small laugh left your lips as you pulled Sam on top of you and into your bed. “Of course, I want to be your girlfriend,” you said before kissing her lips.

“Good,” Sam whispered as she kissed you again before getting off of you and laying down next to you. You were quick to move your head onto Sam’s chest, and you made yourself comfortable while Sam ran her fingers through your hair.

“I’m so fucking happy I have you,” Sam stated while she placed a kiss on your forehead, “You make me so happy.”

“You make me happy too, Sam. Thank you for letting me love you,” you mumbled into your girlfriend’s chest. “How could I not let you?” Sam responded as she placed a final kiss on your head, and sleep consumed the both of you.

You finally had your Sam, and there were no hard feelings left between you two.

[llyfrenfys]

Bad Takes in the Welsh tag vol. II- this reblog on a post about the number of Welsh speakers. (I have cropped out the username of OP and as ever, I only focus on the sentiment, not the person. If you know OP's url kindly do not send them anon hate etc.).

So I saw this take a few days ago in a reblog on a post in the Welsh tag and wanted to address this sentiment as well, since it does the opposite of that other bad take that I saw and made a post about the other day. To be clear, I don't disagree entirely with OP, but there's an element of wishful thinking that I sometimes see when it comes to Welsh / other minoritised languages which can end up doing more harm than good.

This screenshot was also discussed in the LGBTQIA+ Welsh Discord I run and the broad consensus from those of us in there who live in Wales is that OP is painting a very inaccurate picture of the status of Welsh, particularly of Welsh in North Wales. It is frustrating when you have people who value Welsh, but don't value Welsh enough to bother with accuracy in their promotion of the language. This post is intended as a gentle reminder that we can fight for the Welsh language without misrepresenting the situation on the ground so to speak.

The post itself has a 'fuck yeah, Welsh!' attitude which I personally love. But sadly this particular post is riddled with misinformation. First of all, we have "Welsh law is that all signs must have We[l]sh text on them but there is nothing in the law that says signs must also have English on them". Now the wording is kinda vague here- but I'm going out on a limb and saying that the OP is likely referencing The Welsh Language Standards Guidelines (which have been updated several times over the years). The guidance has a number of Standards relating to signs in the Welsh language, such as Standard 32, Standards 47-52, Standard 66 and Standards 111-113. The section of Interpreting the Standards also contains relevant text, such as in Part 3- Interpreting the Standards article 15:

Plain text: "For the purposes of the standards a requirement to publish, provide or display any written material in Welsh does not mean that material should be published, provided or, displayed in Welsh only, nor does it mean that the material should be produced in Welsh first (unless that is specifically stated in the standard)"

Of the Standards listed above, Standards 47-52 are specifically designated as Standards relating to signs and notices displayed or published by a body. Which state things like "... if the same text is displayed in Welsh and in English, you must not treat the Welsh language text less favourably than the English language text" - Standard 47 and "You must ensure that the Welsh language text on signs and notices is accurate in terms of meaning and expression" - Standard 49.

Anyway, back to the point. OP is incorrect in stating that there is a loophole by which the Welsh Law forgot to specify that the signs had to have English as well as Welsh and that public bodies can get away with monolingual Welsh signs. This just isn't true. Important to note is that the law is intended for public bodies- so big companies, road signage makers etc. This guidance isn't for random farms in North Wales which have signs that say "wyau <-" pointing up the lane with no English translation.

Now, the next sentence is a little loaded, well-meant, but a little loaded nonetheless. "The Welsh nationalist dominated rural authorities in the North"- it's loadedness comes down to its vagueness I think. While it isn't wrong per se that Welsh Nationalist parties like Plaid Cymru do well in the North West, it is a little skewed to ascribe Welsh speaking status to whichever party is doing the best in a given area. It isn't that clear cut, unfortunately. To get into this issue, we have to talk maps.

So those Welsh speaker maps that have nice gradients and have the West of Wales coloured in dark, gradually getting lighter as you move East? Unfortunately, these maps can be very misleading (especially if, like in the map OP was commenting on, the source of the data was left off). But the long and short of it is- these maps tend to imply that Welsh is exclusively spoken in the NW and that everywhere East of Bangor has had it. But the data presentation is very flawed, since it tends to erase Welsh language gains in places like Cardiff, Swansea and Monmouthshire.

You've all seen maps like this right? NW in the darkest colours and SE in the lightest?

Unfortunately when it comes to these kinds of maps, they can be very misleading from a language revitalisation point of view.

Here's some maps I actually studied at undergrad for this purpose

On the face of it, your eyes zip up to Gwynedd and Môn on the first map and then over to the second and- 'oh no!' you might say, there's been a -2.1 to -4.0 percent decline in Welsh speakers in those areas. And of course, this is something that language revitalisation wants to address. But look at the first map again. Look at, Monmouthshire, Caerphilly, Cardiff and Swansea. Then look at the second map.

Welsh speaking is actually being increased in these areas, between 2001 to 2011.

The misleading nature of a language map like this one is not its borders, its colour or key, but its omission of the sociopolitcal forces at play in language revitalisation. Large population centres like Cardiff, Caerphilly, Newport and Swansea are actively gaining more Welsh speakers. While Gwynedd and Môn are losing some. But Welsh speaking (despite a few wobbles) is on the increase. So where did those Welsh speakers from the North go?

South.

It isn't a hard-and-fast rule, but many rural Welsh speakers (especially those who live in areas with high amounts of holiday homes which drive up rent/cost of staying in villages in North Wales) actually end up moving to more urban areas in the South, meaning that some of the decline of Welsh speaking in North Wales is down to Welsh speakers just, moving to a different part of Wales- which in turn makes those areas see an increase in Welsh being spoken.

Of course, we actually have to address the cause of the exodus of Welsh speakers from rural areas holiday homes raising house prices making them unaffordable for locals and drives them away but the way that our data is represented is not as dire as it looks. Still not great, mind, but not apocalyptic either.

Then there's the other inaccuracies in this post. Small businesses like farm shops, high street businesses and houses can have Welsh-only signage because they are not local authorities and much of the guidance indirectly referenced by OP mostly only applies to local authorities. This is how you have farm shops advertising produce in Welsh only, or shop names in Welsh (such as Siop y Pethe and Broc-Môr in Aberystwyth) or the name of the house my flat is in. Businesses have different regulations for signage inside the shop in different situations. But the guidance indirectly referred to by OP in the screenshot mostly applies to road signage.

Big name brands such as Tesco are definitely not going to have monolingual Welsh stores and it is disinformation to suggest that they do- especially not when they've made gaffes such as "sboncen" to mean squash (the drink). "Sboncen" means squash (the sport), while they should have put "sgwash", meaning the drink.

Or my favourite instance of these "arwyddion gwael", in which instead of offering a free ATM service, this ATM on the Tesco Express in Aberystwyth offered "codiad am ddim" (free erections):

So I dread to think what a fully monolingual poorly translated Welsh Tesco would look like.

I don't disagree with OP on the final part, that we should celebrate Welsh's "punk ass attitude" in surviving despite attempts to eradicate it from existence. But spreading false information is definitely not the way we should be doing that.

Instead, we can celebrate things like the National Eisteddfod coming to places like Wrecsam in 2025, which aren't typically selected due to there being fewer speakers. But what bringing the National Eisteddfod to areas with low-speakers does is reestablish that yes, actually, Welsh deserves to be spoken all over Wales, not just in Y Fro Gymraeg (Welsh concept equivalent of the Gaeltacht in Ireland). It's an active, real reclamation of areas previously lost for Welsh and revitalising them by bringing the language back with the biggest Welsh language event anywhere.

[sebastianravkin]

A FUNERAL FOR NEIL-GAIMAN

My hyper fixated autistic mind keeps running the Neil-Gaiman allegations around and around in my head and I need to find a way to move past the hero in my mind. Even though I believed Neil-Gaiman when he said ‘you never want to meet your heroes’, even though I am old enough to know better, even though I assumed Neil-Gaiman probably had issues and hangups that didn’t come through in his friendly and wise public persona, I have still been hit hard by the extent that I was wrong. I need ritual, closure, a way to move on. So I WILL BE HOLDING A PRIVATE FUNERAL FOR MY HEAD-CANON NEIL-GAIMAN. Maybe others want to hold their own funerals, maybe it will help, and so I put this out there for you to consider.    

To be clear - and many may disagree and I am fine with that - I do not care in theory if Neil slept with younger women, I slept with older men and think of myself as better for it. I do not care that Neil practices BDSM as long as it is safe and consensual. I do not care if Neil had an open marriage if it was agreed upon by both parties. I believe Neil is autistic, and that can make intimate (or really any) communication difficult sometimes, but I do not think that is an excuse. I believe Neil suffers depression and suicidal ideation, but I do not think that gives him a pass for treating others poorly. 

I care that Neil took advantage of women who were at a disadvantage - financially, professionally, mentally, emotionally. I care that he was proposing sex with women after being married to his first wife for only a year and who was probably obliviously at home with their new baby. I care that Neil is no where near the man I thought he was, I hoped he was, I believed he was and that made the world a slightly better place. 

So, I will be holding a funeral for Neil-Gaiman. For the man who spoke of his own heroes - Terry Pratchett and Gene Wolfe - as polite and kind and wise and (I made the mistake of assuming) as role-models for his own behavior. For the man who appeared to be so kind and funny, with no ulterior motives, on Tumblr to so many fans. For the man who has written the books that I have read and reread to get through various crises in my life and so I assumed he had a deeper wisdom than I about life. For the man that I had a serious crush on since the 1990s. For the man who inspired various aspects of my own writing about, and understanding of, humanity. This man is fictionally dead, because this man was a fiction. His art lives on, and I will continue to love the art because I can not simply turn that off. 

What will this funeral be like? Probably some candles. Probably some tears. Probably burning a photo or two, but never never a book. Comfort food, definitely. Sad music. Maybe watch my favorite moments in Good Omens. Or read my favorite short story in Trigger Warnings. Or maybe just work my way through The Sandman again. I will grieve him like I grieve the end of a good book, or the death of a favorite character in a story, or the loss of a favorite place on the landscape.

The fact that there is some other dude out there that looks like Neil-Gaiman, who I think of as just Neil (because every ‘Neil’ I have known was an ass, which should have been a red flag really), is too bad. Maybe Neil is self-destructive, maybe Neil harms others to harm himself, maybe Neil will find help, find a way back from the depths he has thrown himself into. Or maybe Neil is just a dick; always has been, always will be. You can be autistic and self-loathing and depressive and suicidal and still be kind. But you can also be all of those things, and also just be a dick.

R.I.P. Neil-Gaiman.  I am done. I have no more to say on this.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Pairing: Kingpin Matt Murderdock x female reader

Tags/warnings: Earth-65 MM, Established relationship work fun, Matt is bad but hes cute with it, consensual non-consent, cunnilingus, possibly unprotected penetrative sex, a mention of future kids, possibly a future sexy revenge sequel?

|| Working Lunch ||

You realised that work today was going to be very different when the receptionist, bearing a very flushed face, came up to your desk to tell you that there was a very handsome man asking for you at reception. You knew it could only be one person, someone who would flirt shamelessly with anyone he pleased to, even though he was always entirely faithful to just one...

"Matt..?" You're more than slightly surprised at his presence in your workplace. Sometimes you let him send a car for you at his insistence when the weather was awful, but he would never normally come in to the building.

"...what are y-"

The Kingpin sweeps past the receptionist, his face suddenly stony as he approaches you and quickly guides you into the currently empty office of your boss.

"I'm so sorry my dear, it's something very urgent, I didn't call I simply had to see you in person as it really couldn't wait." Matt proclaims loudly as he swings the door closed behind you, hardly giving you a moment to think as he puts the fancy bag he's carrying down on the desk before lifting you up to sit next to it.

"Is that- did you bring lunch?!" You ask, eyeing the bag which bears the name of an extremely upmarket patisserie from downtown.

"What's going on?" You search his face for answers as he cups yours in his warm hands. "Matt, what are you doing here, what's so urgent?! Are you alright?"

Matt's brows knit together as his thumbs gently brush over your cheeks.

"No I'm not my love, I'm in agony-"

You frown, hurriedly looking Matt over, your eyes and hands searching for any signs of injury that you know he can hide so well.

"Matt please, tell me what's wrong!"

"I'm burning up, babycakes," he replies, leaning into your touch as you lay your palm over his forehead to check his temperature, his auburn locks curling over your fingers.

"You don't feel much warmer than usual..."

Matt takes your wrist, dramatically smashing it against his chest.

"No, here!" he wails, sliding your palm slowly down his body towards his stomach, and lower still...

"...and here, most of all. God, please, tell me you can feel it, sweetheart, feel just how much I've been suffering." He purrs low against your ear as he cups your hand over the firm bulge at his crotch giving it a squeeze.

"Matt!"

"And it's not lunch in the bag, it's dessert. You are lunch sweetpea... and I'm dying of hunger. I need you. Now."

Your eyes widen at his wicked grin as his nimble fingers are already fast unbuttoning your shirt, your brain frantically struggling to catch up with what the hell is going on.

"Matt! What are you doing?! No! And definitely not here! This is my boss's office!" You try to bat his hands away but once he's got his mind set on something, especially if it's you, most times there's no stopping him.

"You can't just show up here whenever you want to f-"

Matt's hand slips through your half open shirt, his thumb running circles over your hardening nipple as he cups your breast, the other skimming up your thigh and squeezing. "Hm, can't I? And why not?"

"Because- well, just... because!!" You fluster ineffectually, fully aware that your boyfriend's sneaky hands were quickly and expertly caressing you into a state of increasing horniness, regardless of your current semi-public location.

Matt chuckles, leaning in and lowering his voice to a husky whisper as he kisses the side of your neck, encouraging you to briefly stand up so he can ruck your skirt up to your hips, curl his fingers around the silky material of your panties and draw them down your legs, and now its too late, there's nothing you can do to stop him. Some would say its the Devil in him, but you knew it was just Matt - sassy, selfish, and insatiable to the point of near insanity. And you loved him for it.

"Oh. Because... it's naughty?" He teases, and you jerk your head in a nod, your breath hitching as his fingertips dance their way up your inner thigh.

"Matthew, please-"

He laughs again, this time more deeply, drawing light circles over your trembling skin. "Oh, 'Matthew' is it? Come on sweetheart, you only use my full name when I'm in trouble. You know I'm such a very bad boy. Say it."

He makes your heart pound like a jackhammer, every part of you warming up at his touch, his words. "I need you, my sweet, sweet dove" he repeats, your mouth dropping open as his fingers trail up, up, up, slipping so easily between the already slick wet folds of your cunt.

"Oh fuck-"

"Say it for me baby," Matt asks you again, sensing your eyes flutter shut while he gathers your arousal, gliding slippery fingertips over the swelling bud of your clit.

You shudder and bite back a moan causing Matt to shake his head disappointedly. Your hands grip the edge of the desk behind you, the whites of your knuckles flashing bright against the rest of your skin as he draws lazy circles. You almost squeal when he starts to tease your entrance with just the tip of his finger.

"Pretty please?" He mock whines against your ear, the soft brush of his lips driving you even more crazy than anything else he's doing.

"Y-youre a b-bad boy, Matty, " you falter and fumble for the right words and he hums approvingly, pushing in another inch and you're unable to fully stifle your moan this time.

"Yesss, there's my good girl."

"Ohh! We s-shouldnt be d-doing this!" You stammer, although your body is intent on betraying you, legs spreading wider inviting him further in.

"Because its just the worst, isn't it baby?" His tongue swipes over his annoyingly kissable lips as you watch his hand moving underneath your work clothes, trying your best to keep quiet as he takes you apart piece by pleasurable piece. Your first orgasm has you clenching around three of his hard pistoning fingers, whimpering as he barely lets you take a breath before he's sinking down to the floor and attacking you with his silver tongue.

It's overwhelming, and so dangerous, you could get fired but... it wouldn't matter.

You could say the word, ask him to stop at any point and he'd obey, no question. But when the Kingpin, the Western Sun of the Hand, your Matt, is kneeling between your legs in that immaculate scarlet suit he's wearing, worshipping you like this? There's no way.

Matt moans deeply as he fully commits to devouring your pussy, the vibrations sending tingling little shocks up your spine.

"S-shit, Matty please!" You gasp as quietly as you can given the situation, your fingers raking through his hair as his wild tongue works you quickly to yet another soaring peak. He only pulls away for a second to mumble something about talking with his mouth full before his lips are locked around your throbbing clit and sending your eyes rolling back into your skull as you come hard with a silent scream, squeezing his head between your thighs and bucking your hips erratically against his sinfully good mouth.

Once you stop shaking, he leans back to let you recover, wiping the back of his hand across his shining lips with a satisfied smile. "Mm, now that was the most delicious appetiser, but it's time for the main course..."

In your post-orgasmic lustfilled haze you couldn't agree more, your body yearning for the unparallelled sensation of him inside of you.

"So good for me kitten," Matt growls as you unbutton and unzip his pants, taking his impressively hard cock in your hand and stroking him a few times before you're rubbing the tip against your needy clit. You embrace him as he pushes in slow, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs on either side of his hips before he draws back, your warm slick walls desperately clenching to pull him back in again.

"Fuck, you're perfect." Matt coos through gritted teeth, his cock twitching as you grab and handfull of his ass to urge him deeper.

"W-we have to be quick!" You warn as he starts fucking you over the desk, the various knickknacks on it shaking with every thrust.

"Sweetness, you don't have to worry about that..." he assures you, his voice thin and slightly strained.

"Matt, my boss might come any minute now!" You urge, his thrusts getting faster and shallower.

"That's okay sweetie, so will I! Think fast baby, where-?"

He acts as if you have any other choice than to feel his come sliding down your thighs for the rest of the afternoon. You squeeze your legs tightly around his waist. "Oh god- inside!"

"Yess" He hisses at your request, fucking you so good your third orgasm is fast approaching.

As you draw close you muse, letting your head loll back. "One of these days, Matthew Murdock, you're gonna get me pregnant..."

He grips hold of your hips, fingers pressing hard into your skin, curling into your body chanting your name over and cursing against your glowing skin as he fills you along with a moan so loud that if your coworkers hadn't already worked out what you were doing, there would be no doubt now.

"God... damn... fuuuuuuuckkkk!"

You finish along with him, unable to stop the smile from cracking your face and a laugh escaping as Matt clings to you, red tinted spectacles skewed and panting hard after a such an intense climax.

"You know how hot it is when you say things like that, sweetheart?" He asks, once he gathers his breath and senses again.

Of course you knew. You knew just how much he'd love to build a little empire of Murdocks, and perhaps sometime in the future you just might.

"Mm I could take a guess?"

He gingerly pulls out, grabbing a handful of tissues from the handy box on your boss's desk to hastily clean you both up and help you rearrange your clothes, but not before trying to kiss every available bare inch of skin as he does so.

"Well, I feel much better, don't you, kitten? A worthy use of a lunch break I'd say."

"Matty, you're incorrigible... you weren't 'in pain' you're just a pain in my ass."

He flashes that smile he does when he knows you'll forgive him.

"You love my ass. Did you mean what you said before?"

You reach forward to straighten his tie, running it through your fingers as he places a hand just below your navel to ensure you get what he's referring to.

"Well, that all depends on if you can be good... I'd prefer if any kid of ours grows up without too many bad influences..."

Matt expression rapidly morphs into one of faux shock. "But I'm a great influence!" He licks the remaining taste of you from his lips with a smirk. "Tell me I'm wrong."

You snort and push away from the desk.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot. Check out the bag, buttercup."

You pick up the paper bag to look inside, taking out one of the small boxes and peeking inside. The delicious smell of fresh sweet pastry filling your nose.

"Are they still your favourite?" Matt asks tentatively, cocking a sharp brow.

"They are!" You smile, taking one out and holding it in front of his mouth for him to take a bite before you do. The fact that he took the time to bring you your favourite treats fills you with a different kind of warmth, but you also can't let him get away with what he's done.

"So, you think you can buy your way out of this mess you've made with cake, Mr Murdock?"

Matt snaps his teeth together cheekily to take another bite, licking the cream from his lips along with the lingering taste of you.

"Actually, I was hoping you'd want to punish me when you get home."

"Oh now, that is a very tempting proposition..." Matt's eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp.

To turn the tables on the Kingpin, and have him whimpering and pleading for mercy in your bedroom, that was a gift you were definitely looking forward to indeed.

[bioticlaw]

Symbiosis

( yandere geto suguru x female reader )

It couldn’t be. He was a professional, someone like him wouldn’t make such an amateur mistake. He said it himself: he wanted to help you. Dr. Geto becomes your lifeline.

content: yandere Geto, drug misuse & non-consensual drugging, dependency, past familial trauma, mental health issues, introspection, mentioned past overdose, medical malpractice. contains sensitive content. not a love story. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT — 5.5k words

notes: please keep it mind that my intention is not to romanticise or glorify these experiences, it is a personal narrative, so it's based on my experiences and feelings at the time. otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story and please, be kind. <3

divider by cafekitsune | cross-posted on ao3

You coasted through your life.

You moved on autopilot, you never questioned or thought about anything, and you had a routine you followed without deviation. You’d been in a state like this for as long as you could remember. You used to wonder how it all began. You used to feel hurt as you were thrown into a deep spiral when you realised that the joyous child you were was now a puppet on its cruel maker’s strings.

You wished you could have saved her.

You knew it was illogical to think that way. You can’t change a story that has already been inked and carved into permanence. Still, it didn’t stop your mind from wandering. Sometimes you’d think of what would’ve been if you could go back in time and save her from her father. If you could have escaped from your captor who saw you as collateral and not his child. Your grandmother used to believe that men were meant to lead and protect their families, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. Was it protecting you when he’d forbidden you from reaching out to the outside world?

Was it protecting you when he’d lock you in his room, away from anything you could use to call for help?

You liked to insist that you didn’t care anymore. Maybe you were a liar. You’d been dishonest far too often in your life, after all. Maybe, in a fucked up spin on the story of Narcissus and his reflection, you fell for your own tricks. You liked to believe you didn’t care, but sometimes, you’d find yourself feeling like that child again—alone and afraid as he gave more love to his stepchildren than you.

You might not have known anything at six years old. He was still your father. But as much as you loved him, you needed to break out of the chains he placed on your life. When he fell asleep from all the drinking he did, you took your chance. Called the number you weren’t allowed to call, decided on where to meet her the next day. Pretended like everything was normal when he woke up. Your mother took you back to your real home from school, and just like that, you were finally free. He cared too much about his public image to start a fight in public. It was the luckiest you had ever been.

You ended up forgetting about it all. You were happy. You were home. You might have spent more time with another relative because your mother was always busy, but you were loved. You felt loved. At least, that was how you remembered it. You weren’t quite sure if your memory was truly failing or if passivity had just been present for all your life. Your memories were in vignettes, burnt and broken, a film reel that was cut and couldn’t be put together. You’d given up on trying to remember. You were fine with leaving yourself in the dark and you were fine with being oblivious. You wouldn’t know if your memories were real, but it didn’t matter anymore.

High school was a blur. You fell asleep, skipped class, and still managed to stay one of your class’ best students despite it all. It was all you could do, anyway. It was just another obstacle you had to get over. As soon as you left the graduation ceremony, you left everyone behind with your memories. The teachers, the staff, your ‘friends.’ You didn’t know them that well. You hadn’t been all too honest with them, just like you weren’t honest with your doctor. The pills he gave you helped—you knew they did. For once, you felt like you were back on earth. You needed the feeling to stay with you. You needed to feel alive, to be alive again.

You liked the moment of bliss you’d get when you came to, so much so that you’d taken it all to die with a smile, but death never came.

Instead, the white light you saw was from the fluorescence of the ceiling, and the angelic choir you wanted to hear was instead the slow beeps of your heart rate on the monitor. What the doctors were talking about over your half-unconscious form didn’t feel like words but nonsense. You couldn’t remember what the nurse said to you, either. All you knew was that in your trance, the state where you teetered on the line between life and death, you saw shadows in that hospital. You saw the ghost of your grandmother in the corner, watching as charcoal flowed down your throat and into your stomach. You felt your father’s indifferent gaze, the same one he had when you drifted too far from shore at the beach.

You heard your mother crying, felt her guilt as she went through the whirlwind you had inadvertently put her in. It was perhaps your biggest regret of all; not the taking of your happy pills, but letting her shed tears over you. Your grandmother used to tell you this was the greatest sin you could ever commit. That scared you enough to force yourself to be better. To be as normal as you could be, as normal as your mother would want you to be. You didn’t want her to cry anymore.

But strength was never your best suit.

Your regret turned into something worse—anger that you let them take your salvation away from you. You weren’t always an angry person. It was hard to get on your nerves that much, you thought. You’d like to think you were carefree (or careless?) and resilient, but the craving in your system and the need to feel something again was all you could think of. You wanted your control back.

You had to get it back. Now that you were on your own, thousands of miles away from home, you had more autonomy to do as you liked. There were no vigilant eyes on you, no more obstacles to overcome, and no more people you had to lie to.

Tempted as you were to resort to such tactics again, you did initially come to the medical centre for a harmless reason. You were running low, and going through another withdrawal episode wasn’t something you were particularly thrilled about. You only wanted—needed—to keep yourself functioning; this was just part of the conditions that came with it. You hated dealing with these things for too long, so begrudgingly, you booked an appointment just to get it over with. Then you could go back to whatever your life was this time.

That feeling of emptiness would continue to persist, fading from one day to another, but you would live. It wasn’t anything worth celebrating. It was just a duty you gave yourself. Even if you didn’t want to, you had to.

Your leg bounced up and down as you sat in the waiting room, idly watching the second hand of the clock tick little by little. It was quiet and surprisingly not too crowded like you assumed when you looked at the appointment times. Other students you didn’t recognise scrolled through their phones, waiting for their names to be called just like you were. You sighed into your face mask. You were bored out of your mind and nothing on your phone could fix that. You’d still zone out anyway.

You glanced down at the paper in your hand. The letters seemed to burn themselves into your eyes the more you read them. You didn’t have to print the appointment details, but you valued your routine and habits no matter how mundane they were. You liked doing things in order. It kept you sane, you thought.

You didn’t quite recognise the name Dr. Suguru Geto. You were to meet them in—you took a glance back at the clock—2 minutes but you were dreading it more than anything. It would be your first time meeting them and if things went well, they’d be someone you see regularly. Apprehension and annoyance simmered at the pit of your stomach. Sudden changes were something you hated, even more so the fact that you had to tell a stranger your history all over again. Suffocated couldn’t possibly be the only word to describe how you felt about it. It was their job to know and help you, you knew that, but you still hated having to muster up the words to talk about how you were mentally and physically.

You didn’t like how vulnerable and paranoid you felt every time you sat in a doctor’s office. Anyone could use your weaknesses against you at any moment. Walking on eggshells around everyone had become second nature to you, irritatingly. It wasn’t as if you wanted to; it was more of a reflex, an instinct. You learnt to hide behind a character you built for yourself and grew used to it. To break that down and expose yourself again wasn’t the easiest thing to do.

Your name was called. “Dr. Geto is ready to see you now. Please follow me.”

The nurse’s heels clicked against the polished floors and the low buzz of the air conditioning was all that accompanied you as you followed her down the hall. Even the air was dreary, and the anxiousness you were feeling only seemed to grow as you got closer to the doctor’s office. It was colder at the end of the hallway where you stood. The nurse gently opened the sliding door, catching the doctor’s attention with a soft lilt of their name.

“Thank you,” you muttered and shuffled past her, tentatively making your way to the chair that was across Dr. Geto’s desk. As the door slid shut, the doctor greeted you, his voice far too jovial for a situation that could be the worst thing to deal with.

“Good morning,” he said. “How can I help you today?”

You shifted in your seat, feeling oddly more uncomfortable under his gaze. “I need a new written prescription. The one I brought from home doesn’t work here.”

“Ah, you’re a foreign student?” He scanned over the paper you handed him, a low hum vibrating in the back of his throat. His lips tugged into a frown. “I don’t think we have this variation in our pharmacy. I’d have to prescribe you a different one entirely.”

“W-What do you mean?” The words came out of you before you could think. “It’s pretty common, isn’t it? I could just buy it from pharmacies at home. What do you mean you don’t have that here?”

Geto raised his eyebrows. It was only then did it occur that you’d spoken too much and might’ve just attracted some suspicion as to why you were here. You pretended not to see how his expression changed, staring down at the floor instead.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” you said quietly. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine. I understand your worries,” he replied, eyes crinkling as he smiled once again. “How do you feel about starting a different one?”

“But…” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You didn’t like how it felt being watched by him. It was like you were getting reprimanded for something, even if there was nothing in his visage that implied that at all.

“It won’t be that different. I can prescribe you something with a similar composition,” Dr. Geto explained. The way he spoke was soft and calm. It didn’t take too long for that to affect you, making the tension in your shoulders lift away and your fists unclench. “I assume you know enough about drugs, don’t you?”

You weren’t here for that reason. You just really needed a refill, you weren’t falling back, you weren’t—

“Yeah. Just enough,” you replied hesitantly. “I’ve been seeing psychiatrists and doctors for years, so I just picked it up from them. And I read a lot, so…”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. The answer seemed to placate the doctor enough for him to lean back and scribble something down on a piece of paper. The sound of the pen scratching against the surface felt more grating than usual. You thought it was all done, that he’d give you that damn paper and you could leave. But then he crossed his arms over his chest and stared you down, and you realised that wasn’t the case at all. Why was he holding this back from you? Why wasn’t he helping you? All he had to do was click a few buttons, hit print and send you on your way. Why wasn’t he doing any of it?

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything.”

“I have been telling you everything,” you argued, exasperated and flustered. You didn’t understand why he was being so pointed at you. You didn’t remember exactly what you just said to him either. It had always been that way. “Doctor, I just don’t want to go through withdrawals again. That’s it.”

He didn’t seem convinced. What made him change his mind so quickly?

“I want to help you,” he said, your name rolling off his tongue smoothly. “I can’t do that if you don’t help me, too.”

You didn’t like the way he was speaking to you. It reminded you of being back at that wooden house, hiding behind the door as you anticipated when your father’s patience would burst. You shook your head, trying to clear the thought away.

“I… would like it if we could wrap this up soon. I have another appointment in half an hour,” you lied, hoping it would strike some urgency in him and that he would just hurry up. “I’m already running late. I need to be on my way.”

Dr. Geto raised an eyebrow. “You’re avoiding my request.”

“I-I’m not!” you stammered. “Please, doctor, I only have two days left on that bottle. I’ll take whatever it was called that you talked about. I’ve always responded well to medication, it won’t be a danger to me.”

He didn’t respond, only continued to watch you as he absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the desk. The sound was overloading your senses—you felt cornered, you could hear the blood rush in your ears, you could hear ringing, and the taps of his fingers were making it worse.

Hunching over, dejected, you relented. “I was never really told what was wrong with me. They just gave me antidepressants and I never saw the psychiatrist again.”

“You said you met several, no?”

Did you?

“I won’t make assumptions about you,” he said, “but I’m not sure I can trust you with a month’s worth of pills. I’ll only give you a week’s worth of them, then we’ll have a follow-up next Saturday to see how you feel. ”

“I don’t know… Changing medications is scary.”

You cringed at how the confession came out of you so easily. Sometimes it felt like your mind and your body weren’t in tune with each other. There was a gap between the two and you could never manage to get it to close.

Suddenly, the stern demeanour melted away and the friendly doctor was back. His brows were no longer furrowed. His face relaxed as he leaned back against the chair and smiled at you.

“It’s only a bit stronger than what you used to take. There shouldn’t be a drastic change.” The printer whirred to life as it ejected a small piece of paper with words you didn’t really recognise on it. Medical jargon was one of the things you could never memorise well. “Alright. Come, I’ll lead you to the pharmacy.”

You blinked. “You don’t have other appointments?”

“We’re understaffed. It’s only me and two other colleagues working here.”

It didn’t answer your question, but the hope blooming in your chest took your mind off of it. You could finally leave this creepy clinic—well, you were exaggerating, you thought. The clinic was actually well-maintained and populated, but there was just something that felt a little off about this place. You decided you’d blame it on your nerves.

“Please wait here.”

You watched him move between the shelves with an air of familiarity and grace as he murmured something you couldn’t hear. He came back with a small pouch that was labelled with your name and the general details (you knew the gist, you’d done this for years) and placed it on the counter between him and you.

“Like I said, this is a bit stronger than what you used to take, so I want you to start by taking half a pill every morning first.” The pills didn’t look anything out of the ordinary. It was a small, standard white tablet with a line etched in the middle for easier splitting. You gingerly tucked it into your bag, instead rummaging through the mess to look for your wallet. Before you could take out a bill or two, he stopped you. “The university has that covered, remember?”

You blinked. “Oh, right. Yes. Thank you.”

“Come see me if you have a bad reaction to it.” He gave you another friendly smile. It was starting to grow on you. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought he would be. You had a knack for being a bit paranoid, after all. It was just one of those days. You felt a bit bad for judging him so harshly before you even properly spoke to him. “That’s all. I’ll see you next week, same time.”

There was a sense of discomfort nagging you in the back of your mind, but you shook it off. You were prone to overthinking things; this was just one of them. Relieved, you thanked him again and left the clinic. The weather was nice today and you didn’t have overdue assignments. You could recharge for as long as you wanted to.

While you knew not to underestimate these little things, you also weren’t sure how effective taking only half of the pill would be. It wasn’t the first time being on a dosage that would gradually increase, but you were still guilty of constantly worrying if something would work out. You didn’t think you had anything left to turn to if it didn’t.

You’d just have to take Dr. Geto’s word for it.

—

You were never one to pay much attention to how you were doing.

It wasn’t that you didn’t care. Something like that was simply not on the forefront of your mind. You were more than accustomed to being in a perpetual state of lethargy. You didn’t think you ever had a time in your life when you weren’t tired. Despite that, you felt the changes in your behaviour and demeanour. It was hard not to.

In the first half of the week, you felt sluggish and ill, as if your immune system decided to go haywire with the hormones in your brain, but you quickly recovered. It was nothing a little caffeine couldn’t fix (or worsen, but you didn’t want to think about it). He wasn’t lying when he said the medicine was stronger. The side effects weren’t as bad as you assumed they’d be, which you were glad about. Your appetite died down a little, but that was fine. You didn’t eat regularly anyway. As the days passed, you felt less anxious. It was somewhat easier to concentrate and follow along with your professors, even if you remained easily distracted.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

You were never one to pay much attention to how you were doing, but you weren’t one to shy away from your impulses, either. A thought popped into your mind. If you could take only half of the pill well, surely it would be fine to take another for a minor boost? You had a presentation later in the afternoon. Embarrassing yourself in front of the whole class was not an option. Your mother was working overtime to keep you in this position. You couldn’t fail her.

But as you picked up the blister pack, you found that it was empty.

“What?” you breathed. He prescribed you enough for seven days. Where was the last one? Had you accidentally double-dosed without knowing it? You wouldn’t put it past yourself to do something like that. The presentation slipped out of your mind entirely as you seemed to move purely on instinct, tugging the drawers open to also find nothing. When you crouched, you couldn’t find anything under the bed. There wasn’t anything in your luggage. Not even the closet where you’d habitually keep your pills hidden.

Your breathing was getting faster. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, overwhelming you in white noise as you paced back and forth, shaky sobs leaving your lips as you clutched your hair in a firm grip. Just where was it?

Did Dr. Geto forget to give you enough?

No. It couldn’t be. He was a professional, someone like him wouldn’t make such an amateur mistake. He said it himself: he wanted to help you. It made no sense why he would screw you over like this. This was on you, you thought. You were responsible for keeping them and taking them per instruction. A doctor wouldn’t make a mistake like this. Dr. Geto wouldn’t make a mistake like this.

Your nails dug into your palms as a broken wail escaped you. You needed it. You had an important class later, it was almost exam season—you needed to do well. Your eyes scanned the room once again. Your old ones had already run out; the new pills were your only option, but both of them were gone.

You cursed and harshly wiped away your tears with your sleeve. You were going to be late. You’d just have to run to the clinic as soon as your next class ended. That’s right, you echoed in your head, nodding frantically. That was all you had to do. You could do this, you could. This has happened before. You just needed to try to keep yourself together.

“I can do this,” you repeated to yourself. “I can. I can.”

Tugging your hood over your head, you grabbed your bag and hurried your way to class, trying to ignore the dull ache at your temples. You could take a painkiller later. For now, there was no time—you had to go.

Your breathing was going back to normal by the time you stepped inside the room with a couple of minutes left to spare. Though you weren’t the only one late, humiliation still washed over you. It felt like an omen. You somehow lost or accidentally double-dosed on your pills, you arrived past your self-designated time, and all eyes were on you. Things were all going downhill from here, you just knew it.

You meekly shuffled to the back of the class instead of taking a seat at your usual spot. Maybe the professor would be less likely to call on you that way. The student beside you smiled in greeting and moved his bag for you. You didn’t know his name, but he was nothing but friendly to you the whole semester. It was embarrassing, being in front of someone who recognised you while in such a pitiful state, but there was nothing you could do.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. His brows furrowed, brown eyes looking at you in concern. “You wanna go to the infirmary? I mean, Fushiguro’s great at taking notes, we can just copy from him.”

You shook your head. “I’m fine. Just overslept.”

Thankfully, he seemed to buy it.

“Oh man, I totally get you. I actually ran here a bit before you did.” He patted your back, the action more awkward than it was comforting. Before he went back to chatting with his friends, he smiled at you. “Glad you’re okay.”

You returned the gesture. Though it didn’t quite reach your ears, he didn’t seem to notice or mind it that much. Luckily enough, the conversation ended there. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The last thing you needed was for anyone to see you in a state like this. It was better to stop it as soon as it happened.

“Today we’ll talk about transference…”

The voice of your professor eventually became muffled as the ringing in your ears grew louder. The headache was getting harder to ignore and you felt cold, your hands trembling under the desk as your mouth felt like it had just dried up. The world seemed like it was spinning and fading into a blur, and you swore you could hear the boy next to you call out in concern, but you felt heavy like you were falling—

You collapsed to the ground with a loud thud, raising gasps all around you as the boy next to you froze for a moment. You traversed between the light and the dark, barely registering the voices speaking over your weary body.

“—you’re the strongest out of all of us, Yuji, carry her!”

“Shit, yeah, okay—”

“—her friends? Take her to the doctor.”

Your bottom lip quivered, your hands loosely gripping the front of his shirt as he carried you in his arms, swiftly making his way across the campus. Tears sprung to your eyes as you blubbered, latching on to him to help keep you grounded. Nothing else was registering in your mind, only the cold and tremors that got worse the more you cried.

As your sniffles quietened down, you heard a familiar voice—the doctor—talking about something with someone while you felt yourself sink into a soft surface. Queasiness held you in its grasp, left your stomach churning. It dragged you deeper and deeper, distracting you from the sharp prick in the back of your hand before you fell into nothingness.

—

The fluorescent white light was unkind to your vision as you slowly blinked awake.

You felt… strange. Like you were floating. Like you weren’t in your own body. You felt weary, incredibly so, that just forcing yourself to sit up felt impossible. The world was coming back to clarity the longer you kept your eyes open. You were no longer in the lecture hall but in a doctor’s office. Your seatmate must have carried you here, you thought. You parted your lips to speak, tried to call out for anyone, but your voice wouldn’t come out.

You fell back against the pillow, your eyelids fluttering closed again. It wasn’t until the door slid open did you finally feel more alert, bottom lip quivering the moment Dr. Geto stepped in. How could he still smile at you after what you’d done? After you broke his trust?

He took a seat next to the bed you were on. You whimpered out his name, blindly reaching for him with what energy left you could muster. You wanted to apologise, to try to explain yourself, but instead—

“You didn’t give me enough,” you whispered, the rest of your words dissolving into soft and incoherent whines. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do or how you were supposed to feel. Anger? Regret? Ironically, emotions seemed like the least of your worries when he was right next to you. You stared at him, your eyes glazing over with tears. “‘m sorry.”

You barely felt a warm hand clasped on top of yours as he sighed deeply, taking a glance at the heart monitor by his side.

“It was my mistake,” he said. You shook your head weakly, a quiet no leaving your lips. “I’ve failed you as your doctor.”

“No,” you repeated in what you hoped was a more assertive tone. It felt useless to wish for something like that. Maybe you should just stop thinking overall and let whatever this was play out on its own. You were so tired, but slumber was falling out of your hands and replaced by a burden upon your shoulders, guilt. “No, doctor…”

You wanted to tell him it was your fault. That this was just another lapse of memory, just like the last time and the time before that. There was a sense of fear clouding your mind, a flash of a warning that disappeared as fast as it came. You felt like there was something you should tell him or even ask him, but you couldn’t think of what it was.

“You’ll be alright now,” Dr. Geto reassured you. “How are you feeling?”

You couldn’t answer.

Just why were you nervous? There was nothing wrong here. He took care of you while you were unconscious, made sure you’d survive. You mumbled something under your breath, tears building up at the corners of your eyes the more you tried to speak. Bringing your hands up to your face, you shake your head again, this time allowing yourself to cry freely.

He softly shushed you, gingerly urging you to look at him. You let out a choked sob as he pried your hands off your face, saying your name in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“You’re okay now,” he said, “Don’t cry.”

You weren’t sure how long he comforted you. All you could do was cry and cry until there was nothing left, until all your sobs became sniffles and exhaustion crawled into your bones, finding a home in your being. A rustle of fabric and you were being lifted in his arms, your head dropping as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

“I’m cold,” you exhaled shakily, nestling closer to him in an instinctive search for warmth and comfort. “I wanna go home.”

You couldn’t hear what he said as you succumbed to fatigue, further and further away until you came to again. You’re not in the clinic this time but in someone else’s room on a softer, warmer bed. The haze you’re trapped in overpowers the warning alarms in your head, replacing them with a sense of longing for the doctor who’s been taking care of you so well. Your wish is granted as the mattress dips with someone’s weight. Dr. Geto sits at the side, gently clasping his hand over your thigh as he says your name, soft as the wind.

“I don’t…” you trail off. What were you going to ask him? Were you just anxious that he was gone? “Something… Something’s wrong.”

“Are you still feeling sick?”

“I don’t know.”

You turn on your side, bringing your legs to your chest as you curl deeper into the blankets. You glance up at him. He’s not wearing his doctor’s coat anymore. Is he going somewhere?

He gently brushes stray hairs off your face before cupping the side of your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. When did you start crying? You don’t know why you still feel so tired, or why you keep forgetting things the moment you think of them. But maybe you don’t have to know. Maybe you just need to trust him and just fall.

There isn’t any strength left in your system. Briefly, you’re reminded of how this is just like when you were in the emergency room years ago, alone and confused and helpless. Still, you force yourself up and crawl to him before resting your head on his lap. Like he’s in tune with you, his fingers card through your hair, comforting and familiar. You don’t think you’ve felt that in years.

You’re in a daze and you’re starting to enjoy how it felt. You don’t have to think anymore. Don’t have to worry, don’t have to feel afraid. Still, you can’t help but call for him again, as if you were worried he’d disappear if you stopped looking at him.

“Doctor…”

“Suguru.”

“Suguru,” you echo. Something feels wrong. He’s your doctor. This isn’t the hospital or the clinic. You should get up and run, get away as far as you can, but it feels so good to be held by him. Your mother used to do the same thing until you fell asleep and got lost in a dream. Dr. Geto—no, Suguru—is warm. He loves you. He cares for you.

You don’t want it to end.

“I can’t do this without you.”

You stare into space, completely missing his smirk as he coos in reply, voice sweet like honey, “I know. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?”

He urges you to sit up properly before handing you two pills and a glass of water, comfortingly patting the top of your head when you take them from him. Your body moves on its own, far too used to this routine—take the pills, take a sip, swallow. Your limbs feel like jelly as you slump against him, resting your head on his chest. Strong arms wrap themselves around your frame and hold you close to a steady heartbeat.

Soft whines and whimpers leave your lips without you realising it. He’s so warm, a stark difference to how cold his office is, and the longer he holds you, the more you feel like you’re drifting away, sinking deeper, deeper…

“I do.”

And you let yourself fall into the ocean’s depths.

[woniechronicles]

RA

type: smut with afab reader, not gender specific

includes: penetration, squirting, mirror sex, semi-public (?) sex, choking, hair pulling, soft dom! jungwon, slight overstimulation, raw (wrap before you tap), spanking (kinda), aggressive/rough (consensual), pet name (slut), edging, creampie - i think that’s it

word count: 1.1k

a/n: my first enha smut! please be nice to me lmao

one thumb in your mouth as his other hand squeezed around your throat, your breath shortening every few seconds as he would loosen up his grip teasingly. drool escaped the sides of your mouth, moving down your chin to your jawline and slithering down your chest. the sight of you in the mirror caused the corner of jungwon’s lips to turn into a smirk, his ego increasing with each stifled moan that left your mouth. he knew he was the only person who could make you feel this good, the only person who could make you get on his knees and open wide; and you knew that too, all too well.

whenever you so much as tried to turn away, there was his free hand cupping your cheeks to force you to face straight ahead. “look in the mirror,” he growled, his lips grazing the tip of your ear. “look how pretty of a slut you are for me.” followed by a slap to your ass, earning a choked out yelp from you.

the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb made his mind hazy, getting flashbacks from when you would give him head in his dorm room. when you would come over just because you missed him filling up any of your holes, and as your RA how could he ever say no? especially to someone like you. after a long week of midterms, a party was just what he needed to release all of his stress. he just never imagined being gone from it the whole night to please you but, again, who is he to complain?

upon seeing how attractive your RA was at the beginning of your semester, you just knew you had to get with him somehow. but being quite reserved and not good at meeting new people, you weren’t sure about the first steps. but to your surprise, you didn’t have to do much to catch his attention. at the first meeting when he had to introduce himself to everyone in his assigned dorm hall, you would catch him looking directly at you with his small dimples making your heart flutter.

it wasn’t until one late night when you came back to the dorms after a late night class that you both finally spoke- a month after your first meeting. just as you were walking down the hall in your pajama shorts and oversized graphic tee, freshly washed and wet hair, did you see jungwon say goodnight to a crying student who was thanking jungwon for listening to her troubles. the sight made you think: wow, this jungwon guy is really sweet and caring. followed by, yet again, another heart flutter. you just watched the girl scurry down the hall in the opposite direction and turn the corner.

and truth be told: you weren’t wrong about jungwon at all. he was sweet and very caring, and he always made sure you and everyone else in his dorm hall were taken care of (especially you). but when it came to late nights in his solo dorm room, late night drives down to five guys, or even once in the janitor's closet on the third floor, he was someone else entirely. you never expected this embodiment of a sweetheart to be so consensually rough with you, marking up any part of your body where only he would be able to see. or sometimes on your neck or collarbone so he could pass by when your friends were asking so who did you have over last night? knowing damn well it was only him you had eyes for.

jungwon knew your body well at this point, he knew when you were almost there but not quite yet. wanting to fasten the pace, he brought his hand from your mouth to your clit. the warm sensation of your saliva dripping from his thumb to your nub made you gasp out in pleasure, earning a squeeze from the hand still wrapped around your throat as his hips crashed deeper into yours from behind. your moans became faster and higher in pitch, signaling a close release. as you clenched around jungwon, you felt the familiar sensation at the bottom of your stomach.

“i’m so close.” you spoke when he loosened his grip again, meeting his eyes in the mirror. they were dark, full of lust- not an ounce of innocence was seen like the one you had witnessed for the first time months ago.

“not yet.” his voice was deep as he trailed kisses on your neck, his fingers picking up the pace on your clit as the other moved from your throat to cup your right breast. “hold on a little longer for me.”

a deep groan vibrated against your neck, making you clench around him once more. jungwon was so close, too. but for some reason your moans were still so quiet, too quiet for his liking. “whyre you so quiet, baby? don’t want everyone to know who’s fucking you right?”

you shook your head slightly, letting out a little louder moan before responding “i don’t, want to, get caught.” the pauses between your words signaled you were trying your hardest to hold back your orgasm- and all for him, too.

jungwon pounded into you harder as his fingers continued their movements on your clit, his moans pouring out of him like a waterfall. “let everyone know who’s making you feel so good. don’t be shy, baby- fuck.”

the last word was nearly yelled as he felt you release onto him, your juices squirting all over his carpeted floor and dripping down his leg. just as you released, he did as well. his hot seed hit you in all the right places, causing a shiver to run down your spine and the overwhelming pleasure to make your mind fuzzy for a few moments. it wasn’t until you felt jungwon start pulling out of you that you had a realization.

big widened eyes, you turn around wobbling to face your friends with benefits. “i didn’t come when you told me to-“

you were shut up with a quick kiss, jungwon smiling against your lips as he felt your saliva still at the corner of your lips. pulling away, he slides his hand down your hips and stops at your inner thigh. “it’s okay, you can make it up to me next time.” he looks down to see you dripping with his cum, catching some on his fingers and pushing it back inside of you- earning a quiet moan.

smirking, you grab the back of his head and crash his lips on yours unexpectedly. the way his lips synced with yours so perfectly drove you crazy; you could never get enough of them and his taste. you just hoped that he stayed your RA for the rest of your college years, because this? you could never get sick of.

[h-harleybaby]

I’m starting to get so many drafts but no one’s asking for nsfw and I wanna write it sometimes ya know?

Anyways this is gonna be real short

I love creepy Butters and Cartman <3333

HAS NSFW CONTENT

Butters 💛

• Like I said- creepy/pervy Butters and Somnophilla? Match made in heaven. There’s just something about him waking up with an almost painful boner and knowing he could use you in any way (with your consent) gets him going a bit. He feels really embarrassed and like he needs to pray but shhhh- your body might as well be his temple

• That takes me to the my next point, body worship. He loves you sm and ofc he likes body worship. But specifically for you, he gets so embarrassed that he can’t really get the same treatment, even a little praise just might make him cum on the spot.

• DACRYPHILLA 👏👏👏👏

• When Butters is a sub he gets overstimulated so easily he just starts crying a bit, but part of him thinks it’s so hot you can do that to him. But also if he gets the chance to fuck you dumb til you’re crying??? He’s so proud of himself, doesn’t it mean he did really well?

• This sweet- sweet man loves praise and he often praises you without meaning to so I hope you have a praise kink, he probably couldn’t bring himself to degrade you

• UNLESS

• Y’all do some roleplay and he’s professor Chaos… It’s like he flips a switch but there’s still a pretty good amount of praise in there.

• Normally Butters is really gentle and likes going slowly with you but professor Chaos is rough and fast AND there’s a lot more dirty talk with Chaos

• Stay with me on this, it’s Butters guilty pleasure to sniff your panties… I DUNNO HE GIVES ME THAT VIBE

• Literally anything you’ve worn he just kinda steals because your smell just kinda- turns him on??? Sometimes it’s not even horny he just loves it (he’s probably stolen one of your bras from your dirty clothes and just kinda lays down with it on his face)

• He purposely gets you to bend down and stuff to see your cleavage and it gets him so horny but he’s also super embarrassed

• I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a humiliation kink, he just wants to be caught with your panties on his face 💀

Cartman ❤️

• Hear me out on this, dacryphilla with Cartman too but in a pretty different way from Butters. Where as Butters comes from a much better place, Eric comes from a sadistic place. He would lick your tears 😭

• Everything with Cartman is just a lil malicious tbh. Somnophilla with Eric?? He loves that shit and goes a lil farther than Butters. Butters thigh fucks you to not wake you up but Eric just flat out fucks you and gropes you (all consensually btw) kinda hoping he wakes you up. He usually does

• He feels almost no shame, he doesn’t get embarrassed like Butters. But he wants you to get embarrassed (cough slight humiliation kink but towards you cough)

• STAY WITH ME ON THIS- food play, and no I will not elaborate on that I’m right you’re wrong end of discussion

• Maybe just MAYBE- exhibitionism, like just to brag he would fuck you in front of his friends just to show what they could never have because you’re his. ITS A POWER MOVE

• He likes to do all that classics pervy shit, like look up your skirt and down your shirt all the time

• If y’all are in public and he gets hard he might just grab your hand under the table and guide it to his boner

• I’M SORRY HE WANTS TO FUCK IN PUBLIC AND YOU KNOW WHAT

• HE WOULD LOVE IF YOU GAVE HIM A BLOWJOB WHILE HE EATS

• Just you under the table sucking him off as he eats, occasionally eating with one hand to guide you/shove your head down a little more on his dick

• He loves that feeling when you almost gag around his dick, it makes him feel powerful

• Totally has a remote controlled vibrator he makes you wear on dates sometimes and puts it to the maximum setting while you’re talking. AND he says you can’t cum or you’ll get punished <333

I’m sorry I tried 😭

[alice-after-dark]

StaticMoth Thoughts

So disclaimer that I am a "ship what you want to ship as long as you don't force it on others" kind of person. If you really like StaticMoth and think they are genuinely in love, you do you boo. You'll get no hate from me. However this is not that kind of post, so if that's not your cup of tea, I do suggest skipping. You have been warned.

TW for abusive relationships, sexual abuse, and other canon-typical triggers. Discussion of homophobia (Vox is from the 1950s after all)

So I'm going to get right to the point. I see a lot of people pointing to that one split second clip of them making out and saying they're in love...and I wholly disagree. I see their relationship as a purely sexual one, with some potential romantic manipulation from Valentino's side of things (because we all know Vox is insecure as fuck).

Vox grew up during a time period where liking both women and men and being openly sexual was not accepted and his demon life is his first real chance at exploring that side of himself. So he is very vulnerable to someone like Valentino who is the complete opposite and solidly comfortable with his sexuality and desires. Valentino is everything that Vox couldn't even fathom being. Fuck, even in Hell, Vox still strives to maintain a spotless image. The idea of not only being in a relationship with a man, but being able to actively pursue his desires is absolutely foreign to him and Valentino knows this. Which is exactly why he loves playing with Vox.

I do also want to make it clear that I think they are mutually abusive to each other. Vox is a control freak and tries to force Valentino into the box he needs him to fit in for the V's image. He refuses to engage in PDA and frankly doesn't even like to touch Valentino in public view if he doesn't have to. However, we also see that Vox can't just tell Valentino "no" and expect him to listen. He needs to placate him, satisfy him in some capacity, or Valentino will go off and do something stupid that will wreck their image. He is always placating the other demon. Valentino needs to be kept happy and sated, in whatever way necessary. And sometimes that means Vox getting...personally involved when he may not want to.

Now, telling Valentino "no" for most things can be pretty easily placated, but telling Valentino "no" when sex is involved? That can get downright dangerous. A horny Valentino is not so easily swayed in another direction. One thing about Valentino is that he's picky. Once he has his dirty mind set on someone, convincing him to redirect to someone else is nigh impossible. The who matters just as much as the what to him. So if Valentino comes to Vox with sex on the brain, "no" isn't really an option. Vox might be able to swing a "later," but even that is tricky and delicate and usually requires some kind of...compensation for the wait. And for Vox, who is used to the scummy darker side of the TV industry, well, this is just what you do to get ahead in the world.

(This is not to say that they don't ever have consensual sex, they absolutely do...that's just not always the case)

Do I think Valentino is the worst offender out of the two? Yes. Do I think Vox is a completely innocent victim who did nothing wrong? No. I think they are in a mutually toxic, abusive, and fascinating relationship.

[ritchiepage2001newaccount]

WHY UNIVERSAL BACKGROUND CHECKS ARE JUST AS UNLIKELY AS EVER, UNFORTUNATELY

I'm a leftist (Libertarian-Socialist), who votes progressive, because I live under an "elected" government, and I had thought I had purged the MSNBC/CNN Nation from my friends list, but apparently not, as my timeline is just chock-full of media-driven hysteria over current events, so here's a primer:

"Liberals" who think their arguments are clever or relevant to the Second Amendment are exhausting.

They are not the left; they are just one half of the good cop/bad cop act of the corporate owned fire-hose of bullshit that is the corporate media, and corporate America's governing criminal cartel/duopoly.

Both cults "I like simple and ineffectual 'solutions', because they make me feel like I'm doing something, and I'm just stinky with fear."

There are over a hundred million legal gun owners, who some want to punish for somebody else's crime.

Well, there are some things to consider.

We've been a heavily armed country since 1621, and yet the epidemic of daily mass-shootings didn't begin until 20 April 1999 (Columbine), at a time when gun ownership was at an all-time low, and five years after Clinton's assault-weapons ban, so maybe guns aren't the variable.

Worth noting: One of the first things the "Pilgrims" did when they betrayed the Native Americans, was disarm "King Phillip" and his men.

Maybe, just maybe, dead school-children are the price of the neoliberalism practiced under the "Washington Consensus" of BOTH right-wing authoritarian parties since the 1980's? When your country offers you no prospects, and you become terrified of the future, what then? Fear can make unstable people do desperate things. Add to that a culture of celebrity, and what could possibly go wrong?

Another factor that goes completely unexamined, is the way Ronald Reagan and Tip O'Neill emptied our state hospitals onto our streets, and onto families ill-equipped to deal with the sometimes violent mentally ill.

Thank God, the "solution" is so simple…

Also, 84% of NRA members support universal background checks. The problem is, every time a bill comes up for a vote, Democrats add poison pill amendments guaranteeing defeat in the legislature (and the courts), and then they proceed to tell the TV cameras that "once again the GOP and the gun lobby have voted down background checks and defied the will of the people", or some such nonsense.

If you want to watch Dems sabotage universal background checks (while Republicans roll their eyes and face-palm) in real time, go here:

P.S. You can probably guess which one of these three groups I belong to (Hint: It's the one that's growing and actually decides elections):

LaborPartyNow!!!

P S The line, "You don't need 30 rounds to shoot a deer!" is not clever.

The Second Amendment has nothing to do with hunting tools, toys for hobbyists (target shooting), or even weapons for self-defense.

It's about ARMS!!!

It's about the individual citizen's right to arms, so they'll be prepared to join a militia, not the other way around. ‘Well regulated’ at that time, simply meant, ‘efficient.’ In other words, in order for a muster to be efficient, civilians needed to be already armed.

So the "collective rights" argument has a couple of problems that make it quite unhinged from history and reality.

1) As I've mentioned above, Americans have always been relatively heavily armed. How did that happen in a collective rights paradigm?

2) Contrary to what you were probably taught in school, by the time of the Confederate artillery barrage on Fort Sumter, the war over slavery had already been going on for over six years, and was fought entirely by independent volunteer militia's. Fort Sumter was just the beginning of official involvement by government troops. How did that happen in a collective rights paradigm?

3) In what universe do government forces need to have their right to arms protected?

4) Since when do National Guard members keep National Guard arms (Hint: they're kept at the armory, and have been since colonial times)?

5) Obviously, "Liberals" are stupid.

Again: #LaborPartyNow!!!

P P S That was ENTIRELY the point of the first fruits of dissent, the 10 Amendments we've come to call the BILL OF RIGHTS (which have become a beacon to aspiring democrats all over the world), to protect INDIVIDUALS from the government they had just created. #TrueStory

[hjnxx]

› › mascara — the debut single.

HIJINXX’s percussion driven first digital single, the song encourages the listener to avoid unhealthy relationships and know their own worth, letting them showcase their confidence and true talents. dropping officially on streaming platforms june 14th, 2021, MASCARA centers around an electronic hip-hop and dance-pop trap beat that creates a dynamic, upbeat pop song.

a formidable hit that made waves for all the wrong reasons domestically, MASCARA had the opposite effect internationally. nevertheless, HIJINXX would get the chance to perform the song on mnet’s m countdown, sparking the discourse surrounding their name. the official music video for MASCARA received 2.6 million views within the first week, highlighting how HIJINXX are quickly making their own statement around the world no matter what.

› PRODUCING & ARRANGING CREDITS : hongjoong, eden

› WRITING CREDITS : hongjoong, eden, ahyeon

› MUSIC SHOW WINS : 0

› CHART PLACEMENTS : #87 on bbHOT100

› MUSIC VIDEO : 1M views in 2 days, 2.6M for the first week

› STAGE OUTFITS, FROM LEFT TO RIGHT : AHYEON, MICHA, YUINA, EUNJI !

› ERA NOTES

wooo hijinxx first single! debut into the industry with fire and passion, this is what we like to see!

except comma,

the public reception to the single being mostly in english was genuine surprise. it’s not unheard of having english lyrics in k-pop songs, but the entire song? as a debut single? for a new group trying to find their own footing? yeah korean netizens were not having it at all. on a forum asking what people thought about the song, the top liked negative comment read: they should all move to america since they want to sing songs with no korean lyrics. they shouldn’t even call themselves a ‘korean pop’ group.

many were quick to come to the girls’ defenses though, saying that the song was meant to reach a wider audience since the survival show didn’t do as well as hoped. ratings for the show had tanked following the accusations of rigging and favoritism, so it wasn’t a long shot for the group to debut with such a song to appeal to a wider audience.

now on to the girls! yuina became a quick fan favorite with her expressions and stage presence, surprising viewers with her strong dance skills. it was then revealed that she spent many hours practicing the choreography over and over, sometimes well into the morning, even falling asleep in the practice rooms out of sheer exhaustion. hearing this, coupled with some tidbits of her life that she had revealed on the survival show, warmed her up to the public very quickly. her short rap in the song would also gain a bit of praise, especially for her lack of vocal wavering despite giving one hundred percent during performance.

despite this, kq would receive a lot of criticism for debuting the girls with ‘simple choreo’, the general consensus being that ( save for yuina who was really busting her ass on stage every time ) the other three girls would ‘walk instead of dance’ into each position.

micha received a ton of attention, some good, most of it bad. the main sore spot was that, as the main vocalist, she was given the most lines, but netizens would go on to complain that the company was favoring her through an unfair line distribution. hate comments would be left underneath the videos uploaded for the performances. she’s lucky she’s pretty, one commenter would write, otherwise i would really hate to hear the sound of her voice. when she dances she looks like she’s being electrocuted and it’s not like she tries to be likable.

eunji would go semi-viral for blankly staring at the screen during group introductions, the nerves getting to her so bad she would default to a semi panicked look. screenshots of the moments would go viral to be used as a reaction meme despite most not knowing where the pictures originated from.

mascara would be promoted for a month and a half, long enough for public performances / more busking, few idol interactions, and dance challenges—especially with their senior group, ateez. the ‘mascara challenge’ with yuina, wooyoung, and san would especially go viral due to atinys flooding the comments with love and poking fun at the notable height difference between san and yuina.

mascara did not gain any wins, but it would go on to chart and peak at number 87 on the billboard hot 100, marking their first entry on to a chart.

soon after the music video for mascara dropped, hijinxx would release a four episode behind the scenes series of filming, practices, and more for each member titled to their respective suit. ( ex : micha’s episode would be titled ‘HIJINXX - ‘MASCARA’ BTS : DIAMOND SUIT’ )

even though there wasn’t much to say about ahyeon’s performance, she would gain more traction for her persona off stage. atinys and aces would bond over hongjoong and ahyeon’s friendship, the bits and pieces of the two featured in her mascara bts episode showcasing just how close they were. considering she’s the one who actively pursued their friendship, their moments were received fondly as the two truly seemed comfortable together. the recording process especially showcased this, featuring a now infamous moment of the two poking fun at each other in the studio. one atiny would post on twitter, ‘new drinking game : take a shot each time ahyeon says ‘joong-ah!’ every time he acts like a little shit LMAOOO 😭 i love them together <3’, the tweet amassing enough attention for even the ateez members themselves to pick up on the teasing.

[sanisme]

take a break

GIF & ayato divider made by me. credit @sanisme if you use anything please. credits to @kiyaedits for the divider at the end xo

summary – your boss calls you over to his office, quite unusual of him. why? word count – 3.1k

pairing – kamisato ayato x fem!reader content warnings - smut, softdom!ayato, virgin!reader with a perv mind, corruption kink, consensual sex, oral (m!receiving), slight mentions of deepthroating (tw gagging), facial, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, spanking, overstimulation, dumbification, semi public sex, ayato is your boss and long time crush, multiple rounds, pet names used

author's note – this is my first ever post. i'm still learning how tumblr works so please bear with me! lowercase is intended by the way. enjoy.

your duty as the kamisato clan head's assistant consisted of caring for cleanliness of the workplace and to keep things in order. as of the present moment, you were taking care of a pile of rather important documents and papers that fell over as you were taking care of another part of the house. picking up the scrambled papers on all fours on the floor was much more energy consuming than it seemed to you at first.

to help pass the time you would often let your mind drift and think of interesting scenarios as a way of making your job less unpleasant. these scenarios would often end up with you thinking of the one person you desired....doing things to you. it was not an uncommon occurrence, and though you felt uncomfortable with those thoughts at first, you had grown to enjoy them. they seemed to make time go faster.

as you were picking up the last few papers, imagining various things in that creative mind of yours, you heard a masculine voice call out your name. was that inside your head? god, you had gone so far with those thoughts you couldn't tell.

"am i bothering you? it's somewhat of an emergency."

you swiftly stood to your feet and straightened your clothes, turning around to see a tall blonde man smiling at you.

"hi, thoma. not at all. what is it?"

"boss asked to see you in his office. he told me to make it quick. it seems important."

giving thoma a confused look, you nodded and tried to catch your breath, and off you went. it was unusual of ayato to call you up to his office, though you weren't complaining. you took any opportunity you had to talk to him, given that he was the man you desired. a little anxious, you hesitantly walked up to the door and knocked.

"come in, dear."

you couldn't deny that you loved his flirtatious ways with you, how he was always physical whenever he interacted with you, with his little touches on your shoulder, your arm or even your back. but you'd rather die than publicly admit it. as you walked in you were greeted by ayato, sitting at his desk with his usual business documents neatly divided into two piles on his work surface. when you looked up at his face he was smiling warmly and looked at you straight in the eyes.

"take a seat, please."

and so you did. you were way reluctant to speak up, too nervous to get mixed up in your words and say a bunch of nonsense. why was he making you so nervous? you had known the guy for years. a little crush wasn't usually something that made you lose your self-assurance, perhaps his behavior around you was what made you fall for him harder.

"archons, calm down. you haven't done anything wrong, i promise." he giggled.

you smiled at him softly and loosened up, already less nervous being aware that his demand to see you wasn't for negative reasons. you finally spoke up and asked him how you could help.

"you should take a break from cleaning. this place is very well ordered. you're a very good maid, you know? sometimes i tell myself you deserve to be rewarded for it."

you felt heat rise up to your face and looked down, trying to cover the redness on your face. your jaw was starting to hurt a bit from the wide smile that took over your face. though not only a feeling of happiness took you over. you pressed your thighs together very tight at the sudden praise. if there was one thing that gave you butterflies, it was certainly praise. you were long aware of your praise kink and sometimes used it in your fantasies with ayato. it truly made your stomach do flips, now that praise was actually coming out of his mouth directly at you, the effect was much stronger. you felt a familiar feeling grow within your stomach.

"rewarded? how?" you stutter.

you watch silently as ayato examines your face with his amethyst-like eyes, seemingly boring holes straight into you, scanning your features so carefully. you felt the pressure rise up in you, your heartbeat increasing by the second.

"why don't you come help me with those papers? come here." he motions at you with his hand to approach him.

with a faint smile on your face you hesitantly get up from your seat, slowly and carefully walking towards him, very self-conscious of the way you looked and behaved. was your hair looking okay? were your clothes dirty from kneeling on the ground earlier? were you walking weird? too quiet?

as you stood still next to him, unsure of what to do with yourself, ayato stared at you through his lashes before backing up his chair by a few inches.

"you see, i've been having a little trouble concentrating today. too many thoughts running through my head. i feel like i need some assistance with this job...and the first person i've thought about for this kind of help was you." he spoke carefully.

"isn't thoma usually the one who helps you with those things?"

"thoma isn't fit for this job."

confused, you slightly tilted your head to the right, nervous to look at him. god, you hated eye contact. you searched for somewhere to look at so you wouldn't have to look at him, and doing that, you accidentally took a glance at this bulge between his legs. it was big. was he...hard? your eyebrows softened at the sight, unintentionally. hopefully he hadn't caught up to it.

"y/n, you've been loyal to the kamisato clan for years now. you're a very dear coworker...such a sweetheart..."

he sighed after that particular word that made your heart skip a beat, he sounded impatient.

"...i've desired you for a long time. i need you y/n, right now." he said in a sincere voice, grabbing your hand with his gloved one.

you finally looked up into his lustful eyes, lips parting, tightening your hold on his hand, finally catching up to what he so desperately wanted from you. without a word you kneeled down and slid under his desk, inbetween his spread legs. he was enjoying this and so were you, despite the tight knot in your stomach. he smiled at the feeling of you unbuckling his belt and freeing his cock from its confines. you tried to stay neutral at the sight of it. its prominent size made you wonder how much you could fit in your mouth.

you finally decided to wrap your hand around the base, opting to start delicately stroking him. he was so hard you thought he would cum any second now, but his face said otherwise. he was doing his job, scrambling through his papers like nothing was happening under there. if someone happened to walk in here, no one would be able to tell. it was like your dirty little secret.

you went up to the tip, rubbing it with your thumb, and applying pressure right under it, eliciting a hum from your boss. slowly inching your head forward, you started with little kitten licks on the head of his cock, and finally taking him fully inside your mouth. he was so big you could barely fit it all inside your warm, wet hole. bobbing your head up and down, you increased the pace and sucked in your cheeks to create more friction around him. noticing how much he was enjoying it, you went further by swirling your tongue around him, making him grab onto your hair with such force. he had clearly gotten louder and despite having relaxed now that there was some action, you quickly started to get nervous again at the thought that somebody would walk in, alarmed by the obvious sounds.

he swiftly moved your head up and down quickly, unintentionally hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a few times, tears invading the corners of your eyes. he thought it was sexy to see you crying from his big cock. you grabbed onto his clothed thighs to hold yourself up, knees hurting. you couldn't help but feel some sense of pride at how ayato, such a prominent, proper, formal man could so easily lose his composure to someone like you, and you loved it. you had never done this kind of thing before, the only base of knowledge you had was from those suggestive books you read sometimes to fantasize.

at this point it seemed like he was using your mouth as his personal fleshlight. you let yourself be guided until he let out the softest, most adorable moan and quickly pulled out of your mouth, stroking himself in right front of your face with the squelching sounds of your saliva mixed with his precum invading your ears. he came without warning, painting your face in his thick cum, and there was so much of it. you wanted a taste.

he tried to catch his breath, letting out soft little grunts and cut-off curses, caressing the back of your head where he had pulled so hard.

"i'm sorry...did i hurt you? he spoke up and you shook your head, smiling at him.

"you're so good at this...such a good girl. i wanna make you feel good too."

he moved his hand from the back of your head to your cheeks, grabbing them with both hands and softly caressing them. you felt like you were melting. his cum-stained thumb made its way towards your lips and you unhesitatingly took it in your mouth, sucking on it. he tasted warm and bitter, with a sweet aftertaste and you loved it. after getting rid of the rest, you stared up at the man who was now holding your chin up to stare at your face.

"why don't you get up here sweetheart? come sit on my lap."

and so you did as he said, feeling internally excited not only to tend to his sexual pleasure like a good girl, but also to be so physically close to the person you had been admiring for so long. your brain still hadn't processed what was happening, but you were about to. the chair was wide enough to allow you to straddle his lap, your legs laying comfortably on either side of his hips...but the friction between your legs did not go unnoticed by the both of you. you could feel his hot breath on you as well as his chest rising up and down, his heart beating at a steady rhythm. he seemed to know what he was doing. had he had many women? had he given others the same pleasure you so wished he inflicted on you for so long? your mind began to wander as you felt some sort of jealousy well up within your heart, but now wasn't the time. you had the man of your dreams sitting right under you. you snapped back into reality when you felt his big, gloved hands snake around your waist, rubbing up and down, to finally set up on your hips. the jealousy soon died out and turned into butterflies. you stared at him in awe, pupils wide, with a prominent blush on your face. he could tell you were nervous from your slight trembling.

"this is the first time you do something like this, isn't it?"

you shyly nodded, lips parting instinctively.

"i'll be gentle then, sweetheart. wouldn't want to hurt such a precious little thing, am i right?"

he sure knew how to make your stomach do flips. the bastard was doing it on purpose, and he was so damn good at it. if humans could melt, you'd be some sort of mush right now. right on his lap, his bare lap...

you couldn't help but slightly grind your hips against his cock, watching his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. with his hands, he guided your hips to increase your pace, until he put you to a stop.

"enough." he said sharply, but not in a rude manner.

with his hands, he picked up your hips, slowly lowering you onto him. being a virgin, you winced at the sudden and painful stretch, letting out little gasps but he did not stop, he was enjoying this too much. did he have a kink or something? he gave you a few minutes to adjust to him, of course he wouldn't want you to have a bad time.

"you're so t-tight baby, it's hard to focus. you feel amazing. such a cute, good, good girl."

he slowly started to move your hips at a steady rhythm, though it hurt at first, the pain soon started to turn into pleasure, his member hitting so deliciously against that special spot deep inside your pussy. you couldn't help but moan a little too loud – eyes rolling back. he placed a hand on your mouth a applied pressure to your jaw to keep you quiet.

"wouldn't wanna get caught in this position, sweet baby. you're a special girl, wouldn't wanna make the others jealous, right? hearing you getting fucked so well by my cock, only you get special treatment. nobody else is to know about it. you're my special girl aren't you?"

you nodded quickly as your noises turned into heavy, quick breaths – when you felt him thrust up into you you held your hips up, loving the pleasure he was giving you, wanting more and more of it, you soon became addicted to him. he began kissing your neck, your chest, fondling your breasts and playing with your nipples all the while picking up the pace on his loins when he felt your tight pussy closing up on him repeatedly, signalling your first orgasm. sure enough, your eyes rolled back and you couldn't help the scream of his name raging from your throat as he was sent over the edge at the same time as you, filling up your tight cunt to the brim with his juices, again gifting you with a huge load that flowed out of your pussy onto his balls, and spilling down your shaking thighs.

you felt drained, letting your body slump against his, drooling onto his shoulder, catching your breath. you felt satisfied yet sad that this special moment was over, hoping it would happen again in the future. picking yourself up you looked directly at him, focused on his figure, shaking, hands squeezing your plush ass, eyes looking tired as ever, breathing heavily. how did you manage to make him such a mess? it was a truly beautiful sight you'd keep in your memory forever. you longed for more in your mind, but didn't say a word. and at that moment you thought he had mind reading skills.

"bend over the desk, love."

the sentence itself gave you butterflies and you involuntarily tightened up on his cock, still buried inside of you. you slowly stood up, legs wobbly from the delightful orgasm he gifted you with and excitedly did as he said. he took a moment to grab onto your ass, spreading it and looking at the mess he made between your legs. it was sexy, yet you felt exposed and flustered by his actions.

when he got up, you felt impatient to have him inside you yet again. it was a feeling you'd grown addicted to. he wasted no time in plunging himself right inside your cunt, swiftly but carefully. he wanted to make ruins of your body. having that idea in his mind, he started right away with a quick pace which had you seeing starts, moans muffled by the drool-stained wooden desk against your mouth. he smoothed his palms against your behind and without warning he spanked you really hard, three times in a row, twice on the left, once on the right, making you let out little yelps each time.

"more! more! more! please, sir!"

"that's my good girl. so well mannered. you take me so well, you're doing such a good job for me. keep taking me like that, yeah...that's it. i'll make you feel so good."

another slap was felt on your ass and it only made you louder and louder, ayato's care for the noise was long gone, and so was his sanity. all he wanted was your pussy milking him, over and over again.

"perhaps i should call you in my office more often, what do you think? i think this job requires...two people...fuck-"

his consistent pounding made him seem like a feral beast claiming you in the wild, his dick was so big you thought he'd split you in half. hearing that this kind of thing would occur again made you want to scream his name over and over without a care in the world, wanting to let everyone know how good he made you feel, and then you were cumming again- legs shaking against him, hole creaming around him while he cursed over and over again, he loved the feeling of your pussy pulsating so hard.

"aren't you my sweet little toy? do you like when i talk to you like this? i'll make you feel like this everyday if you wish it, you're mine now."

you could only babble nonsense as he fucked your brains out, not being able to let a single coherent sentence out.

"have i fucked you stupid already? have you become my dumb little baby? so sweet. don't say anything, let me take good care of you."

he filled you up one last time. you felt warm and satisfied, holding onto the desk and giving ayato a personal memory of this special moment with the mark of your nails engraved onto it forever. your ass was on fire from the repeated spanking, your vision was blurry from the overstimulation and your eyes were tearing up from the pleasure inflicted on you. his hands ran up from your ass to wrap around your waist, pulling you onto his lap in a bridal-style embrace as he sat down. his heartbeat and his warmth were comforting, his eyes staring softly at your face before placing soft kisses all over it, leaving your lips for last. your first ever kiss, and certainly not the last.

ayato had made his mind up long ago that he wanted you as his partner for the rest of his life, and he had finally claimed you. you were his now. you could already tell he was your home.

you drifted off into a blissful sleep at the thought of your new lover.

© 2023 sanisme. do not repost my works on any platform.

[granulesofsand]

🗝️🏷️ CSA, SA, details about sexual functions, shame

To the person with the CSA ask from a few days ago; I wasn’t sure if you wanted it attached, I know sexuality can be a touchy subject for the public eye.

Not Remembering

Memories of sexual abuse are often hidden deeper down. There’s an air of secrecy and shame already heavy in many mainstream cultures, even with consensual sexual activity.

Some children have direct interactions that teach them to dissociate those events further, others learn just by their environment.

Similarly, instances of COCSA are treated as ‘lesser’ than CSA by adults, and may surface sooner than other types. Same goes for abuse unaffiliated with a group or beloved figure.

Symptomology

There is no one presentation of physical symptoms. Sexual disfunction is common overall, but it can be difficult to find specifics.

Oftentimes both extremes are possible— hyper sexuality and hypo sexuality, preoccupation with a trigger and avoidance of it, risky behavior and refusing all contact.

There are also some things that are frequently observed in survivors. Mixing up fear or pain with pleasure is normal. Worrying about predatory behaviors within yourself is normal. Lots of kinks stem from trauma, that’s normal.

Normal for CSA survivors is just different than normal for the general population.

Bad Enough

Any amount of maltreatment is enough for a person to develop these symptoms, and some will have them even if their experiences don’t align with what clinicians currently call trauma.

Symptoms can be programmed in. A particular event repeated or a staged occurrence could be used to create a desired response, and sometimes symptoms are noticed before memories come up.

It could go either way, and it’ll take time for both. You have the choice to wait for memories or to dig for them, to analyze what you find or leave it well alone.

Diving In

A good therapist is always recommended, but at least have backup plans in case things go awry. Internal and external supports, muscle-memory coping skills for when survival responses arise, comfort at the ready.

Take lots of breaks and do your best to notice distress inside. It’s quite alright to discover your memories paint a different picture. Be kind to yourself/selves, good internal relationships are more important than finding some absolute truth.

Stepping Back

It’s also not wrong to decide to close this door for now. Your safety should come first, and that might mean aiming for stability over answers.

Keep gentle track of symptoms and journal when it feels feasible. Take care of you, whatever that looks like. Maybe pick another goal to focus on for the time being.

I hope this helped, please reach out again if you still have questions.

[bowtiepastabitch]

The Inherent Queerness of Monsterfucking: Fifty Shades of Subversive

Or; The research paper I begrudgingly watched 50 shades for, with edits for smooth tumblr reading. Yes, this is a paper about porn. ~2400 words.

Like porn, politics, and football, people tend to have very strong opinions on BDSM and kink. Inherent to the nature of kink is the subversion and revolution of social norms and our sense of taboo, a transgression against the rules we've set as a society. The subversion of traditional ideas about sex is what makes kink kinky; it turns concepts of right and wrong, pain and pleasure, completely upside down. Normative gender roles, too, can sometimes be reserved, such as the case of the female dominatrix, but in practice things tend to trend in a heteronormative direction. One study (1) shows that most men tend to self-identify as dominant, with most women tending to identify as submissive, especially in heterosexual contexts. Likewise, in homosexual male spaces, masculine men are much more likely to be perceived as tops whilst more feminine/gnc men and "twinks" are more likely to be pegged as bottoms (2) Despite the focus on transgression and subversion within BDSM and kink, masculinity and phallocentrism still dominate norms both in the public eye and within many kink communities themselves, especially online. For queer women and those outside the gender binary, often neglected and forgotten in kink representations, this brings up an important question: What does kink look like outside that model? In fan communities online, many writers seek to answer that question. Between the boundaries of traditional gender and anatomical essentialism, queer kink stories both acknowledge and defy phallocentric, patriarchial ideas about sex, gender, and power.

The realm of fantasy holds a magnifying glass to this discord between queerness and phallocentrism, having the ability to take certain ideas to their erotic extremes beyond what's realistic within the consensus reality. Many kink acts themselves are rooted in fantasy and roleplay elements, acting on desires not otherwise appropriate or even possible. These fantasies take place in the imagination and become the foundations for erotic fiction. The 2015 film Fifty Shades of Grey is one such piece, with its immense popularity solidifying a specific heteronormative perception of BDSM relationship dynamics. The movie follows a dominant, controlling male's pursual of a sexual relationship with a bland, naive young college senior: quite the "big Dommy McDommerson"(3) as one reviews from the community puts it, Christian Grey is practically a caricature of the standard hyper-masculine archetype, full of snappy innuendos and brooding bad-boy backstory, not to mention fully inept at romance and consent. At its core, Fifty Shades is essentially a reiteration of the standard many-times-rinsed-and-repeated stereotypes and heteronormative ideas about kink and sex. The gay male kink fantasy, too, unsurprisingly centers the phallus. The works of Tom of Finland, for a prominent example, deal extensively with this imagery of masculine dominance and phallocentrism, sketching out big strapping men with disproportionately massive cocks that center a specific model of cis maleness tangential to dominant norms of sexualized masculinity. By contrast, the obscure fantasy world of kinky erotic fiction written by and for queers contains vast diversity of gender and sexual dynamics; the only real commonality is an aversion to the heteronorm. Here, queer kink stories are told in relative anonymity and can explore a variety of kinky and subversive ideas about sex, gender, pleasure, pain, and identity. One example, "A Taste of Hell," an Overwatch fic that provides an excellent example of this phenomena, illustrates many of the transgressive ideas explored by these communities including rape, free use, violence, and the trope known as monsterfucking. (3) The plot is simple, following a young woman who dies and goes to hell only to discover it to be essentially an eternity of sexual slavery to lesbian demons, whose lover comes in from the living world to argue for her resurrection. 

"A Taste of Hell" was published to AO3 in 2017 by user 'zieg', and the broader community it's a part of exists as a safe space for exploration of sexuality and social taboo without judgement or moral condemnation. In these online communities, primarily women and genderqueer people (only 1% surveyed identified as male) construct fictional worlds of erotic potential where boundaries of right and wrong are blurred and anything can be sexy. Zieg describes their writing as "an experiment of sorts," and "an elaborate, fantastical roleplay of sorts between writer and reader." They acknowledge the disturbing and "fucked up" nature of their material, citing the BDSM and kink tradition of taboo roleplay, in a disclaimer linked at the beginning of the piece; this idea of sexual transgression is widely regarded with little further comment in much of the community, with 48,000 posts tagged "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat" on AO3, a reference to the idea that the label ought to be warning enough. "This is hot and I'm going to hell," says one respondent to Kukka's research in Fandom's Pornographic Subset, "God please forgive me." A key factor in these writings is the unapolagetically "fleshy, hyperbolic descriptions of sex;" euphemisms and formal sex language are absent from the text, which instead tends to lean towards the crass and the colloquial, with an entire miniature dialect of fandom-specific vocabulary. Far from the clean cinematography of Fifty Shades, “A Taste of Hell'' features graphic descriptive imagery of “hot pussy” and “gaping fuck holes.” This forwardness lends itself to the overall openness of online kink communities, where arousal and sexuality are topics for unrestricted, frank discussion. The comments are full of readers praising the erotic sensuality and writing style of the fiction, openly expressing their arousal and enjoyment of the piece.

The lack of repression in these spaces contributes to the allure of these communities, with many respondents expressing a feeling that “belonging to an accepting community helped them to alleviate their feelings of shame.” (Kukka 64) Audre Lorde, in Uses of the Erotic describes the manner in which female eroticism is “vilified, abused, and devalued within western society” to the detriment of one’s personal power and the necessity for connection and acceptance of one’s inner self and desires in recouping it. The presence of communities for “exploration of sexuality and desire” where “neither is feared or forbidden” nurtures this self-acceptance, and it can be a powerful tool in vital identity formation through the “imagining and reimagining” (Kukka 64) of oneself through shared fantasy. By telling and reading stories, participants can learn more about their own tastes and desires and experiment with new fantasies and ideas.

Many of these fantasies and stories feature a direct dismantling of the gender binary: men can get pregnant (colloquially dubbed 'mpreg'), canonically heterosexual and hetero-presenting characters can be 'shipped' in gay pairings, and sexual activity can be engaged with supernatural creatures like aliens, werewolves, ghosts, and monsters. (i.e. monsterfucking) At its core, monsterfucking is a type of fantasy that subverts not only heteronormative ideas about gender and sexuality, but the human ideal of the gendered body itself. More than just giving a woman a penis or a man a vagina (though it’s certainly done, with and without the context of transness), this trope involves an entirely nonhuman character with its own unique genitalia to match its purpose in the story. For “A Taste of Hell,” this involves a vast host of dominating demon women, with the majority having vaguely human-esque vulvas lubricated with a cinnamon-scented liquid and a sharp, pointed clitoris. The one exception is a character referred to as Mistress Cyx, who has a “long purple horse cock expanding from her groin, a solid metre long and 20 cm thick.” It’s certainly a grotesque description. Similar to the kinky gender-bending roleplay that takes place in real life, these fictions “[provide] a safe space for people to fuck with their gender” (Bauer 234) and to explore the different ways in which sex can be engaged between parties through a subversion of human contexts for gendered sexuality. Tentacles, eggs, probes, tongues, cloacas, and even 'sex pollen' can all contribute in their own strange ways independent of the genders of the involved parties. Even objectively phallic objects, such as the aforementioned horsecock or other supernatural phallus, tend to defy accepted heteronormative standards in the way they're used and described. Combined especially with tropes like male prenancy, where cisgender male characters are able to become pregnant through penetrative sex, these stories "create a new genderqueer place outside of the gender dichotomy" (Kukka 57) where sexual dynamics dely on anything but the gender of those involved.

These strange sex encounters, naturally, draw their fair share of criticism from disturbed onlookers. Perhaps the most pressing, ignoring the undertones of bestiality, is the issue of consent. Elements of non-consent, popularly shortened to non-con, feature heavily in many female fantasies, both straight and queer. In Fifty Shades of Grey, for example, consent is often dubious at best; Christian Grey repeatedly makes inappropriate comments to Anastasia before they become romantically involved, and even tracks her down while she’s drunk (he doesn’t like her getting drunk) and forces her to come back to his hotel room where he undresses her and puts her to sleep. He frequently tries to push BDSM activities on her that she, a vanilla virgin, is not prepared for, and despite insisting that he won’t touch her without a signed contract, he repeatedly initiates sexual activity throughout the entire movie, with varying levels of enthusiasm on Anna’s part, even demanding that she “say yes… to being [his]”(4) while he has her in a vulnerable, powerless sexual position. “It really did frame BDSM as being abusive,” says Blaque in her review. “It just did.” Despite all this, the movie heavily romanticizes Grey’s controlling nature and never addresses the violations of appropriate consent. Conversely, queer kink pieces like “A Taste of Hell” are expected to openly acknowledge their problematic elements before the reader even opens the text. Zieg tags the piece “Rape/Non-Con Elements” as well as “Free Use,” “Sex Slave,” and more; the reader is responsible for reading the tags prior to opening in order to consent to any kinks or uncomfortable content present. Characters meanwhile hold to near nonexistent moral standards, allowable within the suspension of disbelief and judgment that’s critical to the existence of these fanfiction communities. This allows for a more complete and authentic exploration of subversive and transgressive sexual content, with one respondent to Kukka’s study reporting comfort with the questionable material due to a “bigger distance” between themself and scenarios they consider “triple fictional,” a phrase they use to describe the fictional (non-canon) interactions of fictional characters from an existing fiction franchise, all in all: fanfiction.

Despite all this, Fifty Shades of Grey and kinky monsterfucker fanfiction still have common elements. Both feature unequal power dynamics, a core facet of many kink roleplay genres, and both focus on non-male fantasies. Like Fifty Shades of Grey, queer kink practices in real life have even been accused of succumbing to patriarchal sexual models and being anti-feminist for that reason. As France points out in “Sadomasochism and Feminism,” this kind of logic “defines sadomasochism with reference to dominant norms,” reducing female and queer sexual perspectives to a mere reflection of that which oppresses. That’s not to say the world one lives in doesn’t impact sexual experiences and preferences, but allowing oppressive narratives to define queer and female sexuality really only allows those oppressive narratives to dominate the conversation of sexuality altogether, feeding back into their power. Even Fifty Shades of Grey, with its problematic representations of BDSM and reiteration of heteronormative relationship tropes, deserves a level of nuance as a female erotic fantasy in its own right. Furthermore, examining “A Taste of Hell” in the context of male power, when it contains not a single male or masculine character, seems absurd. The absence of male figures rejects the phallocentric idea that sex and sexuality revolves around male power and presence. “The largest category” of responses to Kukka’s study “highlights the importance of kink meme communities in catering to the erotic needs of women and other non cis-male people.” Both works fit that description, subverting the “male-dominated mainstream porn” model. 

Another commonality lies in culture of origin; the Fifty Shades of Grey novel in fact originated as a fanfiction of the popular Twilight series, though it’s largely been scrubbed of lexical evidence of its humble origins. Fandom culture online, especially in fanfiction communities, has evolved its own unique set of customs and, more importantly, linguistic quirks. Monsterfucking itself is a term presumably originating in kinky fanfiction circles online, describing the specific type of kink dynamic discussed here. As mentioned earlier, these specific colloquialisms for sexual activity, free of awkwardly formal terminology,  are a key part of the community’s open conversation. The unique language of these communities experiences constant transformation, as writers are free to create new tags at their leisure and new slang terms spring up organically from online interactions and memes. Furthermore, within queer and kinky sects of these communities, there’s plenty of overlap with real life queer and kinky vernacular, as well as a host of transformative and individualized language. It can be helpful for those “exploring and expanding gender concepts” to use transformative language to “rename or recode body parts and sexual practices according to the meaning they have for the participants involved as opposed to heteronormative perspectives” in kink practices, and that benefit is amplified through the written language of fiction. This “material-semiotic renaming” that Bauer describes can involve the invention of new language or incorporation of subversive ideas and community slang for genderfuckery, and the explicit description of genitalia and the body present in monsterfucking smut lends itself quite well to exploration and experimentation thereof. With many characters existing as mere projections for interpretation of real life experiences and confusions, it makes sense that their descriptions would be so varied and unique in a veritable playground of self-exploration. 

Despite mainstream perceptions of kink as a male-dominated practice, these online pockets of queer community continue to thrive and subvert expectations about sex and gender.  Sexually explicit queer kinky fanfictions can provide essential safe spaces for exploration of sexuality and unusual fantasies, allowing readers to learn more about themselves and others and to form community connections. These works incorporate intentionally taboo and disturbing elements, such as monsterfucking, to explore uncomfortable subjects and enjoy the erotic allure of kinky fantasies in a nonjudgmental, communal online space. Such spaces nurture identity building, mutual understanding, and a sense of belonging, as well as providing space for creative expression and validation, specially for those who are geographically isolated from real world lgbtq+ kink spaces or experience social, financial, or accessibility barriers to meeting with like-minded individuals in person.

Boyd-Rogers et al.

Pun unintended, unfortunately

We don't talk about how long I spent trying to find an example fic for this paper that met my needs. Authors who provide commentary on their own porn can be surprisingly difficult to find.

I need you to imagine for a moment me, an ace and very queer individual, pirating fifty shades of grey at my desk with a pad of paper out taking fucking notes so I can cite it in my paper. It was my prof's idea. Apparently I needed to be able to cite a juxtaposing source.

This paper has been adapted from a research paper that I wrote for my freshman writing seminar, with the bulkier explanation of basic fandom concepts having been removed or edited.

Works Cited

“About Tom of Finland.” Tom of Finland Foundation, 2 Nov. 2022, https://www.tomoffinland.org/about-tom-of-finland/.

Bauer, Robin. “Transgressive and Transformative Gendered Sexual Practices and White Privileges: The Case of the Dyke/Trans BDSM Communities.” Women's Studies Quarterly, 2008, pp. 233–253.

Blaque, Kat, director. Actual BDSMer Watches Fifty Shades of Grey | Kat Blaque, 13 Aug. 2020, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F93WHXewX5c. Accessed 24 Apr. 2023.

Boyd-Rogers, Caroline C., and Geoffrey B. Maddox. “LGBTQIA + and Heterosexual BDSM Practitioners: Discrimination, Stigma, Tabooness, Support, and Community Involvement.” Sexuality Research and Social Policy, vol. 19, no. 4, 2022, https://doi.org/10.1007/s13178-022-00759-y.

“Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.” Archive of Our Own, https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Dead%20Dove:%20Do%20Not%20Eat/works.

Fifty Shades of Grey. Universal, 2015.

Kukka, Silja. “‘Fandom's Pornographic Subset.’” Lambda Nordica, vol. 26, no. 1, 2021, pp. 53–79., https://doi.org/10.34041/ln.v26.721.

Lorde, Audre. “Uses of The Erotic: The Erotic as Power.” Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches by Audre Lorde, 1984, pp. 53–59.

Zieg. “A Taste of Hell.” Archive of Our Own, 3 Apr. 2017, https://archiveofourown.org/works/10536954?