#the rare time i draw simply for the pleasure of drawing

[daftpatience]

new oc poopcat

[osachiyo]

𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖈 𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗 · dazai, chuuya & fyodor .ೃ࿐

· 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𐙚 none, gn reader, sfw content, fluff, petnames, headcanons + little scenarios, not proofread

· 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 𐙚 sorry these are really short, im just trying to clear out as many requests as i can for now :') i was gonna add sigma n fukuzawa too but i wanted to get it out asap so i can work on my other wips. also ! i might focus a little more on fluff for the time being :) happy reading and hope you guys enjoyed !

𝖘𝖞𝖕𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖘... just some cute scenarios with some of the bsd men ᡣ𐭩

dazai.. was an interesting man. he never got flustered no matter how much you flirted with him, not even blushing when you did provocative actions like sitting on his lap, or whispering dirty words into his ear.

instead, he somehow counters your lines with his own — leaving you the one flustered.

but when you give him genuine compliments, or do something nice for him genuinely from the goodness of your heart, the same man who's seemingly unaffected by your advances, somehow turns into putty — melting in the clutch of your warm grasp.

in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bedroom, you hummed sweet words against dazai's dark locks, your lips finding solace on the crown of his head. "you're so pretty," you whispered, a genuine compliment that seemed to momentarily lift the weight of his rough day.

"darling, not as pretty as you," he chuckled, his voice muffled as he buried his face in your chest. the day had taken its toll on him, a tough mission leaving him with more than a fair share of injuries. but those details could wait for another time.

for dazai, these moments were treasures. lying in your arms or having you nestled in his, the simple pleasure of each other's company became a haven. the absence of distractions allowed him to savor the rare peace he found with you, a feeling that almost made him giddy.

your words, genuine and warm, were like a balm for his weary soul. in these moments, he set aside his usual snarky quips and jokes, content to bask in the embrace and scent that spoke of comfort and home. the sincerity in your praise quickened his heartbeat, and for once, dazai didn't need to hide behind humor.

though his face was hidden from your view, dazai couldn't conceal the flush of pink spreading across his cheeks. it was a secret shared only with the solitude of your embrace — a silent acknowledgment of the vulnerability and affection that blossomed in these stolen moments of peace.

considering chuuya's job, you two don't get to spend too much time together. but you had already known and accepted that when you started dating him.

though, when you two do get to spend some quality time together — it's all worth it. he makes sure to spoil you with his affection and attention when he has the chance — making up for all the time he's neglected you.

and after a whole day of getting spoiled by him — visiting fancy and expensive places, tasting amazing food, drinking the finest wine, you finally get to relax at home with your favorite person.

"quit scrunching that handsome face, babe," you sighed, smoothing the furrowed lines of his brows with your thumbs, delicately working the cleanser into his skin. chuuya simply hummed, surrendering to the soothing sensation and leaning into your touch.

"and what's the deal with this?" he asked, his arms enveloping your waist — right where they belonged. "it's just cleanser, does what it says — cleans your skin." chuuya hummed again, drawing small circles on your hips, "just make sure it stays out of my eyes, okay?" you rolled your eyes, adjusting yourself on his lap for better comfort, "obviously."

after rinsing off the cleanser and following through with the skincare routine you'd picked, chuuya stared at his reflection in the mirror — bunny headband adorning his head, bangs swept back and away from his face, which now felt surprisingly soft. "holy shit, my face feels so...smooth?" he blinked, gently squishing his own cheeks. you approached from behind, planting a tender kiss on his neck — "i did tell you my skincare routine works wonders."

"heh, yeah," he chuckled, turning to face you, playfully squishing your cheeks together before planting a soft kiss on your lips, "now it's your turn, love. your skin deserves some of that magic too."

fyodor was a busy man, you always catch him in that dimly lit room — typing away while staring at his monitors. with all the plotting, scheming and hacking — he never really has any time left to take real care of himself.

and that's exactly what you're here for — dragging him out of the dingy room, not paying any attention to his complaints or threats, you know he doesn't mean them.

taking off his ushanka, you wonder how much time had it actually been since he's properly washed his hair — but you didn't ask him that, knowing he'd be even more irritated.

fyodor's complaints ceased once you proposed a shared bath, both of you disrobing before slipping into the warm water. the temperature, meticulously adjusted to his liking, showcased your thoughtful consideration. though the usual positions were reversed, with him against your chest, it was necessary for you to tend to his hair.

"right there, love," fedya sighed in content, tilting his head back and savoring your touch. your fingers massaged the shampoo into his hair, focusing on his scalp. "feel good, huh?" you smiled, placing sweet kisses on the pale skin of his exposed neck before gently rinsing away the shampoo from his raven locks.

these tranquil moments held a special place in his heart. simple yet profound, they kindled a warmth within him. your loving gaze had the power to thaw even his typically cold heart. in those tender glances, he found a promise to himself — to craft the perfect world for both of you.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

[paegei]

PROPOSALS - 95ers

how the 95 liners would propose (fem!reader)

warnings: brief mention of past sex, use of y/n (once), mainly female centric compliments, but can be read with gender neutral reader in mind.

a/n: first attempt at writing fluff,,, why is it so much harder to write than smut ??

seungcheol:

traditional man. takes you to an expensive restaurant, and buys you the best wine you've ever tasted. your friends and family are scattered secretly around the nearby tables, ready to witness / capture the beautiful moment.

today was a very special day. yours and seungcheol's five year anniversary. the fact you had been with him for only five years shocks you, as you can't remember your life before him.

he had been able to get a week off from his crazy schedule, which resulted in the two of you hoping on a plane to head to Paris.

tonight, the night of your anniversary, cheol had purchased a particular dress for you to wear, one that compliments his outfit will, and took you to one of the top rated restaurants near your hotel.

the night started out as it usually would, nothing out of the ordinary. you hadn't gotten tipsy, but the wine had given you a fuzzy feeling in your head, making you much more giggly, to your lovers pleasure.

around about an hour had passed, the two of you now sharing a slice of chocolate cake. seungcheol was staring at you the way he always does, eyes full of nothing but love and admiration. the had been a break in the conversation, cheol and you simply bathing in each others presence.

you take a quick glance around the room, until a noise draws your attention back to your soulmate.

he was now standing, spoon and glass in hand, smirking at you.

"sorry to interrupt everyones lovely dinner, but i have a very special announcement to make." he placed the items down, before turning to address the other patrons.

"today is me and my gorgeous girlfriends five year anniversary !"

the room had erupted into applause.

"but thats not the announcement i wanted to make."

he turns back to you, chuckling slightly at your confused face. god, could you get any cuter ?

"y/n. my darling. my love. five years have passed since i've been able to call you mine. five years of my life spent holding you in my arms. i never want that to end."

he drops on one knee, chuckling at the gasp you let out. he pulls the ring out, and as he does, the first tear rolls down your cheek.

"will you do me the honor, and spent the rest of your life in my arms ?" he is peering up at you, a look of confidence that you know he is using to mask his nerves.

you immediately hop to the ground with him, nodding silently while you sob. the flash of cameras all around you, as well as many cheers of congradulations.

as the two of you stand, you see you are surrounded by your closest loved ones. what a perfect way to end a perfect night.

jeonghan:

private beach at sunset. proposes in a gazebo while you look over at the sea. no doubt in my mind he writes "marry me" in the sand. chuckles at your tears even though he definitely is ugly crying too. has a picnic prepared afterwards.

one thing about you and jeonghan's relationship; you were homebodies. the two of you rarely felt the need to go out and about to feel a connection, majority of the time choosing to stay huddle up and nap together.

today, however, was one of those rare dares where hannie would drag you out of bed for a date. although you tried your hardest to convince him to just do what you usually do for dates (read: sleep.), here you were, in a flowery sundress, walking towards yours and jeonghan's "secret" spot.

the spot in question was a little opening on the beach, far away enough for what most people consider to be a walk. the two of you had found it early on in your relationship, and tested it's level of privacy with some good ol' sex.

you could tell something was off with him today. he seemed... cautious ? hannie ? cautious ? yeah right. he was extra fidgety, and kept checking his appearance before your trek. he was rushing to leave the house too.

turning the corner to find the place the two of you were very familiar with, there was so many unfamiliar things catching your eye. fairy lights had been scattered around, dangling down from the roof of the gazebo. candles had been placed neatly around the edges. a picnic blanket had been laid down on the floor, with a bouquet of flowers resting atop it.

you turned around, ready to ask jeonghan what was going on, when you spotted him on one knee, a nervous smile on his lips as he gazed up at you. you gasped, knees buckling, and jeonghan instinctively held his hand out to ground you.

he giggled at your shocked face. "hey love"

"han i swear to god-" your words were cut off by a sob, your breath hitching.

"'ts okay love. don't cry." his hand holding yours began to rub back and forth on the back of your palm.

"knowing you, being with you, loving you. it has been a dream come true for me. i never thought i would be able to experience the love people craved. i was okay with that thought. until i met you. i want to be with you for the rest of my days... i want to grow old with you. will you let me ?"

without saying anything, you jumped into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder while nodding. you could feel his own tears beginning to hit your skin. you pulled back, looking into his eyes, full of nothing but love and admiration. you were sure yours were conveying the same emotion.

your lips met in a passionate kiss, one the two of you would deem to be the best one you had shared, until your wedding day.

joshua:

balcony while on vacation. planned on asking you during dinner but chickened out. you were slow dancing while it rained, before his love for you overtook his brain, making him spontaneously propose then and there.

the night had been perfect. you see yourself thinking that thought every day that you spend in joshua's arms. but it's true. he brightens up every day of your life.

you had been worried at first. he seemed as though he had something on your mind during dinner. you were petrified you had done something to upset you, but he had assured you it had just been a long week. after his reassurance, the rest of the meal passed as usual, him returning to his charming self.

now, the two of you were found on the balcony of your hotel suite. despite the freezing temperatures the rain had caused, neither of you could find it in yourself to care. you were holding onto each other tightly, your head buried in josh's chest, as his chin rests atop your head. even though there was no music to be heard, the two of you continued your gentle swaying, the rhythm of the rain being the tempo you moved to. the silence was calming.

you felt his chin move from your head, before he pushed you back slightly, just enough to look down into your eyes. his eyes were sparkling, glistening, as per usual, but you soon noticed something else swimming in them. he had tears resting on his lash line, ready to fall at any moment.

concerned you reached up to cradle his face, asking what had bothered him.

"i just love you so much. more than you could ever imagine."

you open your mouth to return the sentiment, but his movement stops you. he pulls something out from his pants pocket, before dropping to one knee. he attempts to say the words he had practiced many times before, but the tightness of his throat stops him.

"i- i love you, y/n, so so much. will... will you marry-"

before he can finish his sentence, your lips crash onto his, the two of you silently sobbing into each others mouths. he breaks off the kiss with a chuckle.

"is that a yes ?" god, his smile could blind you.

"yes, you idiot" yet there was no malice found in your words. his hand comes up to you cheek, to steer you into another passion-filled kiss.

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[joannasteez]

fall, for me

pairing: roman reigns x black reader

warnings: its smut written at two am, i was listening to pink floyd and was feeling a yearning vibe, sometimes you just want someone to be obsessed with you and vice versa yknow?

word count: 1k

could it be that you were falling, this fast slipping separation, where the earth moves, your feet staggering, the ground cleaving till the drop takes you. and the air here pulls from the lungs, draws up quick and terrible. the heat of your skin building till the fire from the friction of the air leaves you to burn. no, falling is easier than this, falling is simple, falling is old theory come to life. gravity and mass and so on and so forth. but this thing, this sweet aching in your chest, that which you cannot see, but feel all the same, is something else entirely, and to say that you were falling for him... 

that you were crashing with abandon for him...

breathless and hot and desperate...

his tongue tasted like everything, well like you and nothing much else really, but the feel of him, the slip of it through your lips, wet and lingering, controlling. it was everything. like when the sun breaks from off the horizon, a slow, sure, rise, burning into that rolling in of the dawn a warming sort of majesty. and your fingers, slipping through his hair till they took to the roots, pain turned pleasure pulsing in his skin as you pulled and formed to him. roughing into him things already understood, that did not have to be explained with great words and phrasings. he could simply feel the scorching in your skin, and know that you were his. that the clinging to him was not in vain. 

but you'll say it anyways. speak softly in your delirium. as his hips make no rush to slip into yours, but steady and exacting all the same. cock hard and heavy as it takes to the softness of you. your mouth parting from his, hesitantly so, growing small beneath him, beneath the weight of the ache in your chest.  

"would it be too much to-", your lips chasing the curve of his, each breath wanting and scared and needy. "to much to say that i-..."

but then the air about your words breaks, flattening to nothing as his hips dig in, taking purchase deeper. and you pull to take him, wet and hot and ill-controlled, moaning desperate and mindless. 

"say what?" 

and your nails nearly split into his back, hissing in time with your own pleasures and your pains, thighs burning as they spread wide, the muscles pulling, tired but working still to please the build of him. and you try, even in your failures to speak, to muster feelings into words, for an expression, even if broken, to say the burdening things he already knows. but everything falters, shatters to bits as you tremble beneath him, whimpering pretty nonsense. pleasepleaseplease, before the inevitable gratitude, thankyouthankyouthankyou, light like a feather, so good and so reverential and so needy. so weak and willing. 

"say it", he urges. feens to feel the slight of the words beneath his skin. like a cutting into the veins. a rushing in his blood. as you pulse and shake and curse. 

"'m a little...", a gasp and then a beat. gathering slowly the words despite the rocking in his hips. the way his hard body grinds and slips at your soft tender skin, at the swollen throb of your clit. and he can taste you still on his tongue, feel the slow sweet drip of arousal, patient in the way it'd met him, as if he'd been graced with something both beautiful and rare, only meant for the one worthy enough to receive it. and he'd taken it well, pushed his tongue in wet till he couldn't anymore, his face buried as he sought hard to please you. lips suckling till they released, teeth hissing, appetite greedy. sofuckingpretty, he'd moaned, rushed, lavishing your slit, his thumb caressing the wet pearl of your clit again, dazed in his own amazements. and the memory forced him to take you harder, to maybe abandon his methods, his steadiness, his temperament. maybe he'd just break you, knock you loose to form you back together again. maybe he'd- "...'m a little obsessed with you", you laugh amidst a moan. amidst the wet stroke he takes to your pussy. "...i think". 

"you think?", like mocking. his lips curving amused. it seemed to be a challenge, a call to action. but he would settle it ruthlessly, so that there was neither doubt nor hesitation. he would make up your mind, if you, amidst the delirium, could not yourself. "just a little bit?"

"...Mhmm...", feeling the twist and the burden of the ache. the slow to subside burning that only leads to some unrestrained bliss. "...fuck...maybe-maybe a lot", your body shivering as he shifts, thick fingers pushing into the bend of your knees to fold you in half, his own knees screwing into the bed as your lower lips spread further, splitting wet and messy to stretch perfect for him. and here, vulnerable to him like this, he takes you to the hilt with less consideration. 

"it ain't no maybes for me sweetheart", his hips rutting as he goes about fucking you with the deftness of a brute. his tongue pulling to lick over his lips quick as his eyes bare down on the beauty of you, fingers combing against the fall of his hair, his chest rising and falling with every breath, damp and red with heat, with lust and the purity of other things. and he grunts, rushes to chase the soft pull of you, pussy a soaked mess as it disgraces the sheets, tight and greedy as it works to keep him close. throbbing crazily to feel the fullness of him till it seemed impossible. 

and of course sooner or later, you'd have him at his knees, again, whether literal or metaphorical it did not matter, but if need be, he'd be the proof, of old theory's come to life. of mass and of gravity. he'd allow again, over and over like he does now, that fast slipping separation, where the earth moves from beneath his feet. he'd fall for you. 

"i can't live without you". 

[vampirebloodie]

Little Help | Mark Hoffman x Reader

Summary: John makes Hoffman help you and he almost kills you (with pleasure)

Warning: NSFW Smut, creampie, degradation kink, puller hair

After having survived one of Jigsaw's tests after making some bad choices in life, John Kramer saw enormous potential in you due to your willpower to survive being different from anyone else tested, you had the strength of an apprentice, as well as Amanda and Lawrence. As you didn't have many things to lose, you easily accepted John's invitation to become one of his apprentices and help him with the next games, even though it was almost like signing other people's death warrants, you saw it as a job, you just don't receive any payment for it.

Amanda wasn't with you today at the factory, so it was just you who was putting together a new trap and John who was drawing some new models in a notebook. You had been making some mistakes for a few days now, which made him start keeping an eye on you to look for some good solution.

“I called Hoffman to give a little help for you. I see that you are having a lot of difficulties.”

John said, still drawing. You felt your heart stop for a few seconds after hearing that. You hated Hoffman just as he hated you too and you knew that very well, he made a point of always making it clear when you saw each other, which fortunately was rare.

"You what? Hoffman? Are you kidding me? What about Lawrence?”

Unlike Mark, Lawrence liked you and you liked him too, you always got along well and always helped each other.

“Lawrence has a family, and he's traveling with them. Amanda is not available, you stay with Hoffman, the end.”

He closed the subject there and you huffed in frustration, the hours there with the detective would be terrible.

.........

It was almost dusk, John had gone home to rest in his room while you had stayed to wait for Hoffman, sleep had consumed you and you soon dozed off on the table, only to be woken up by a loud knock on the table that almost made you have a heart attack.

“Finally! I thought that besides being stupid you were also deaf.”

You rubbed your eyes and looked up to see the devil, aka Mark, staring at you.

“Fuck you.”

“You can curse me later, cutie. We have a lot of work to do.”

He went to the other table where there was the trap that you needed to assemble but there was something wrong with the pieces, since every time you tried to fit it to your body it simply came apart and you had to do it all over again.

"Do it"

He handed the materials into your hand, but you didn't take them.

“How am i going to fix it if i don't know where im going wrong damn? i've tried several times.”

Mark took a deep breath and placed the tools on the table again, carefully picking up the trap.

“Don't be a stupid girl, just open your fucking arms.”

You ignored his rude manner and looked at him suspiciously, opening your arms, then you felt the trap being placed around your waist and your neck.

“Hey hey, what are you doing?”

You despaired for a few seconds thinking he was going to fix it and use it on you.

“I'm not going to kill you with that ugly thing you did. I need a model to be able to see the error. Unfortunately, i only have you.”

You ignored the offense and stayed quiet, he bent down a little in front of you and looked at the pieces, you held your breath when he looked at the part of your neck and ran his hand over it. You could swear he squeezed your neck on purpose.

"Thats it."

He spoke and took one of the tools, where he placed it near his neck and fixed the error that was in the support of the equipment. After that he released the trap again and removed it from his body, placing it on the table. You felt your neck tingle.

Mark ran his long fingers along your neck, where the metal had left a mark due to his grip, you tried to control your breathing when you realized how close your two faces were to each other. You looked at him again.

“Don’t look at me like that…”

"Like what?"

You tried to hide the sexual tension, turning your head, only to feel his hand pulling your face back to look at him, at his blue eyes.

“I know you don’t really hate me, do you think i don’t see you staring at me every day?”

“I stare at you and imagine myself killing you in various traps.”

You tried to finish the subject there and he laughed sarcastically.

“Oh sure. Do you know what i imagine when i look at you, Y/n?”

He got close to her ear and whispered:

“I imagine myself every day fucking that tight pussy of yours right on this table and you screaming my name.”

You closed your legs on impulse as soon as you heard that, only to see a smile appear on his face, he grabbed your hair from behind, giving a light tug making you let out a moan.

“Why don’t you make it a reality then, detective?”

"I will”

You felt his tongue invade your mouth with precision while his arms pinned you against the table, Mark held your waist and placed you sitting on the table, where this time he attacked your neck leaving some marks, your hand pulled his tie. Hoffman took off your blouse, squeezing your breasts and then removed your underwear, he took off his blazer and threw it in a random corner of the room and pushed you against the table, opening your legs, you shivered when you felt his fingers pass through your intimacy.

“You don’t know how many times i've thought of you in this position just for me.”

He squatted in front of you and removed your panties, leaving you completely exposed to him, before you could say anything you felt his tongue invading your pussy making you scream in surprise, his tongue worked so well inside you that made you roll your eyes with so much pleasure, Hoffman stuck two fingers inside you and started moving them while sucking your clit, you pulled his hair, you felt your stomach tighten.

“H-Hoffman, I...”

“No.”

He realized you were going to cum and pulled away, making you moan in frustration, he grabbed your neck and unzipped his pants, exposing his member, which made your eyes widen a little due to its large size, Mark positioned his member at your entrance and forced himself into you, the tip hitting your cervix, which made you squirm at the new sensation.

He placed both hands on your hips and began thrusting hard into you. Completely invading you with each blow. You grabbed his arms and moaned loudly. Hoffman pulled your hair and squeezed your neck, starting to choke you as the loud sound of your bodies crashing into each other filled the empty room. Your face started to turn red due to lack of air and he seemed to enjoy it.

“You look so perfect when im choking you, you fucking little slut!”

He said irritably and began to move even harder and released your neck, making you gasp for air quickly, Hoffman squeezed your waist tightly, which would probably leave marks later, the two of you moaned loudly and together. His fingers began to make quick movements on your clit, making you almost cry with pleasure.

“Be a good girl and cum for me while you scream my name, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck, Mark!!”

"Good girl!”

You screamed, cumming and feeling your legs weaken and shake, Mark grunted and soon you felt him coming apart inside you, you breathed for a few seconds before he came out inside you, watching the semen drip from your pussy, he licked his lips. Mark took you off the table and helped you get dressed again.

“It won’t change how much i hate you.”

You said and he laughed.

“Please remember to say this when i fuck you again .”

He gave two little slaps in your face and put his blazer back on.

“I'll give you a ride. Hurry up. Cmon"

You put on your boots and picked up your bag, walking alongside him, even though your legs still felt sticky to each other. God, what have you done?

[tulipsforvin]

Hello! You are one of the few authors who write something in this MTP fandom. And I really enjoy your fanfics💐 Can I request a smut with Mycroft?

I apologize...My English is a bit broken, I hope I wrote clearly😭

✧ your grammar's fine, don't worry! your request was a little vague so i added whatever i could think of, hope you don't mind :)

✧ p.s: thank you for the kind words ᥫ᭡ !! thnx for requesting, love <3

✧ mycroft x f!reader + getting head & fingering (f!receiving) + praising

mycroft had been more busy with his duties lately. he'd barely come home and even when he did, which was quite rare, he'd be too tired to properly even engage in a simple conversation with his love.

“..oh, right there.”

and this was his way for making up for his neglect.

your back arches off the bed by the slightest inch, fingers tangled into his dark hair, tugging and tugging at every new sensation, every new need of yours.

“hmhh..” he groans into your cunt, lips wrapped deliciously around your swollen, throbbing clit.

mycroft is on his knees on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around your thighs which he uses to pull you close. you're wet. so, so very wet—dripping down from your pussy to the expensive bedsheet below you, not that you cared right now anyway.

“mycroft..” you begin, but are immediately stopped when he licks a stripe down from your clit to your vulva. “hngh— fuck.” to add to the pleasure, his fingers walk up from your pelvis to your breasts and he uses his thumbs to draw circles over your nipples.

he's slow, but precise with his actions. some time in and you finally realize that he isn't just randomly lapping you up — he's circling his initials into your clit. you gasp every time he starts with the 'M' and shudder everytime he ends with the 'H', as if your body was his.

yet it only turned you on even more.

“a-ah..” you're practically humping yourself onto his face and the man willingly sticks out his tongue for you to relieve yourself.

“doing so well for me.” he murmurs, and although his words are slurry, his praise makes you even more determined to get yourself off on him, makes you ride his tongue even faster. his hands wrap around your breasts and he fondles them, gives them an occasional squeeze once in a while.

surely getting yourself off on him would be a piece of cake, right? but the time spent apart was so long and you couldn't even remember the last time you touched yourself so everytime you neared your high, your body suddenly couldn't handle it anymore and slowed down on it's pace, edging you.

“m-mycroft..” your eyes are pooled with unshed, desperate tears and you whine his name out softly. you're frustrated. and you want, no, need to cum.

the man wasn't dumb, he knew of your frustrations so he cooes to you. “shh, shh. it's okay. i'll get you there, sweetheart. trust me.”

so he took matters into his own hands and delved even deeper between your legs. his tongue laps at you faster, sucks and kisses your clit — even adds in a finger to help you—help his poor, sweet girl.

his fingers pump in out of you and his tongue is still unrelenting in it's pace. “fuck— please..! i'm going to cum, please-” and yet, your body didn't seem to listen to you. getting closer and closer to your high was making you overwhelmed, and the stimulation was simply too much.

“haa.. hngh, i-” you're tugging at his hair, back arched, toes curled, mouth agape. “p’ease—” and you've hit the edge. your moans grow louder, fill the room and your thighs shudder and try to close around his head but he keeps your legs spread apart with his big hands, caressing your legs.

mycroft only hums in response, rubbing and caressing his hands all over your body. “that's it, that's it.” he whispers. “let it out, that's my good girl.” you're gasping — unsteady, short breaths while he helps you come down from your high.

“good, good” his voice is raspy, deep, aroused.

that was beautiful, he thinks. the strain against his pants is obvious and you're sure he's almost leaking with the stain you see when you prop up on your elbows to look at him. “good job, dear.”

your eyes flick to the clock and so does his.

10:34 AM.

“now that i'm aware i'm late,” he murmurs close to you. “i might as well take the day off an indulge in you, instead.”

[blueeyedheizer]

hii can you do 6 for the cassie howard event? thank youu :>>

6 - "Guide me." | 18+, smut under the cut

"Aren't you worried it's going to make things awkward between us?" Cassie asks.

"It doesn't have to be awkward. This is for...strictly educational purposes." you shrug. "I just want to learn how to do it, for when I get a girlfriend. And I know you're a lot more experienced than I am, so..."

"Okay." Cassie agrees. "I'll help you out."

"Really?"

She laughs softly and nods, dragging her body to the end of the bed.

"What are friends for, am I right?”

-

You wipe your clammy hands against your knees, watching as Cassie drags her jeans down her legs and kicks them to the side. She spreads her legs and you move to position yourself between her thighs - suddenly making this whole thing a lot more real.

"Are you sure this is okay?"

Cassie nods again, looking directly at you as her fingers move to her underwear, pushing the fabric to the side and revealing her pussy to you.

For a moment you just stare, taking in the sight with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

"Like what you see?" she teases.

"Uh - sorry." you snap out of it, blinking rapidly before looking up at her expectantly. "Guide me, please?"

"There's no specific rule. Just focus on the clit and pay attention to how my body responds. You can start by licking or teasing me with your fingers, whatever feels right to you. Then you just let my reactions guide you." She explains. Then she nods, giving you the green light.

Hesitantly, you bring a hand between her legs and spread her labia, your middle and ring fingers slowly gliding up and down her folds, getting her nice and wet. You do this a few times, making sure to stimulate her clit in the process, trapping it between your fingers and rolling it gently between them, Cassie's body giving a surprised jerk at the feeling. Your eyes rarely ever leave her face as you touch her, studying her every reaction and waiting for her to tell you what to do next.

"That's..." she swallows, brows furrowing in pleasure. "Yeah, that's good. You can use your mouth now."

You oblige without a word, leaning forward and softly kissing her clit before circling it with the tip of your tongue, your movements slow and still a little unsure. Cassie exhales at the sensation, her breath hitching. She bites down on her lip, her fingers coming to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail. "That's it. Keep going."

You simply hum in acknowledgment and bury your face deeper between her thighs, making sure to hit her clit with every up-and-down motion of your tongue, your technique improving by the minute and confidence growing. Cassie's breathing starts to get heavier, her fingers tightening in your hair every time you hit just the right spot, the softest noises spilling from her mouth.

You continue to lap her up and stimulate her clit, paying attention to every noise and reaction her body has to your ministrations like she told you to do, experimenting with different pressures and places to see if you can draw out any more of those sounds.

"Oh my god." Cassie shivers as she tugs on your hair, pretty blue eyes eagerly watching the swipe of your tongue between her legs. There’s a flush of colour dashed across her cheeks, her hips lifting off the mattress every now and then. "Jesus, fuck. That's really good, Y/N. You're doing so good." she says, a little breathless.

You hold onto her gaze, any shred of self-restraint you have been holding onto completely dissolving as your lips seal around her clit and suck, your tongue flicking the sensitive nub simultaneously.

From then on every swipe and suck and flick is met with an involuntary jerk of Cassie's hips, her cries urging you on. Her chest rises and falls with deeper, heavier breaths and she falls back on the bed, her arm giving out.

"I'm gonna come—" she gasps. "Don't stop."

You wrap your arms around her thighs in response, locking her into place as you concentrate your efforts on her clit, working your tongue as steadily as you can. Her hips rock against your mouth with a mind of their own as her head digs into the mattress, gasping and moaning in pleasure.

“Oh yes. Yes, fuck, right there — i'm coming!“ She cries out, her legs clamping around your head as her orgasm washes over her, whole body shaking as one of her hands flies to your head to hold you in place, her hips rocking against your face as she rides it out. You let her use you as she pleases, your moans of satisfaction prolonging her pleasure.

Cassie eventually shivers with one last aftershock before relaxing, her chest heaving as she catches her breath.

"Your girlfriend's going to be really fucking lucky."

[leggerefiore]

Can I request sfw and nsfw romantic hcs for giovanni?? He gives off sugar daddy vibessss 😩

I'll do NSFW later💕 someone else requested it, too, and I want to keep the posts separated so it's easier for those uninterested in that part to avoid lol

cw: interesting dynamics at play here, fluff

🚀Giovanni General Romance HCs🐈

🟥 The Rocket Boss may allow himself many leisures, but a romantic partner had not been one. The idea of risking something like that seemed like too much of a gamble that he simply did not wish to account for in his goings-on. Few people could even catch his eye in such a meaningful way. Whatever small affair he may have had with his executive had never been done with any intention of actually initiating something more seriously. The child that resulted was simply to be his heir, even if said child seemed to only want to reject the offer. Yet, when some overly defiant trainer was apparently keen to attempt to interfere with his plans. Well, they certainly had his attention whether they wanted it or not.

🟥 You seemed to want to mock him. The small bruise to his ego might as well have been a brutal, bleeding claw mark to him, however. It starts off as some strange game of cat and mouse. The roles could vary between you both, but he truly respected your strength and confidence. Which is how you ended up baited into a nice dinner with Giovanni. Things naturally only built from there… Why keep opposing him – Justice? Perhaps morality? He could provide much better things than that. You seemed more than tempted by the offer, which he simply enjoyed. He was more than happy to have you at his side.

🟥 PDA depends on the situation with him. During a meeting? If he can use it as an intimidation tactic, absolutely? You can sit on his lap while he has an arm wrapped around your waist. You are free to do whatever as long as it does not distract him too much. Giovanni will not be so into it if it is a time he wishes to appear more menacing, though. Basically, just read the room and find out what he is doing first. In the general public, he does like to keep a hand on you in some way. His line of work has made him many enemies, and he would hate to see you pay for it. An arm seems to find its way around your shoulder or a hand grasps at your wrist tightly. Kissing is more limited, though.

🟥 In private, Giovanni still varies quite a bit. There is time he needs to focus on his planning and thoughts. In those moments, he would prefer to be left alone. Yet, the opposite is true. There are times he wants nothing more than to have you close to him. Arms will pull you into his lap as he buries his face in your nape. He finds it strange that your presence alone draws out such positive feelings. He almost finds it addicting. When he returns home, you usually get greeted with a kiss as well. There is something foreign about the domestic sentiment that is thoroughly enjoyable. Sporadically, he seems to scratch at your head like he does his Persian's own. The action is quickly stopped after he realises what he is doing. A chuckle is all you get in response to your question of why.

🟥 Naturally, you are free to do whatever to him, too. In fact, he laps up your affections. It is a bit of an ego trip to him. Every kiss you lay upon his skin and every embrace that you lock him into. The way you cuddle with him in bed… He finds it different from the nuisance that he used to find you as. The feeling of your body close to his is a rare comfort that he almost wishes that he allowed himself sooner. It was so different from the pleasures of the body that he had accustomed himself to.

🟥 Dates are lavish outings that come most often when he has a successful affair in his work. Fancy dinners are preferred alongside outings to certain lounges around Kanto. Though, he would be happy to indulge your wishes, too. As long as it was not directly to a police station, you can drag him to the most garish places in the region. There is a certain preference to stick to cities, yet there are a few times he has enjoyed a nature walk with you. A certain trip to Viridian forest showed a strange side to him when stopped to gaze at a passing Nidoran. He ultimately shook his head and continued on with you, though.

🟥 There is some sort of faux domesticity shared between you both. He is not anywhere near a traditional lover, nor is there any expectation for you to align yourself with any role. Coming home to you is a nice change from the empty home he was more than used to. Being greeted by you after a long day completely breaks the annoyance that would otherwise flood his mind, his feels something prideful when his arms lock around your waist. It also shows up in how you both understand the other's preferences. A nostalgic meal waiting for him at home meshes well with the gift he saw got you while he was out and knew you would enjoy. Though, these moments are exceedingly rare with how busy he can get.

🟥 He does have a jealous streak, surprisingly. As confident and sure of himself he is, his business does not make him an easy man to love. It would be far too simple for him to be gone away for work and return to you in the arms of a much more loving person. Any attempts by others in flirting with you in public gets met with his savage glare and possibly even a very subtle threat. Many around him know better than to try anything like that with you. The longer your relationship with him goes on; however, he cools off from it. There is no need for such behaviour when it is clear that you are not going anywhere.

🟥 Some strange part of him desires for you to meet his son. The logical part of his brain knows that it would not be received well, yet there is some urge to reconnect with the boy and show him that he has made changes to himself. Silver would likely despise you, though. His feelings towards Giovanni were plain to observe. It is mostly a fantasy, he knows.

🟥 A relationship with Giovanni has many ups and downs, mixed with highs and lows. His work will always be his main focus, but it is obvious that he does care for you. He almost treats you like a pet cat at times, though. There are many risks involved with a relationship to a man like him, too, and the looming threat that he may just vanish one day if something goes to awry. But, perhaps, in the situation that he does disappear from his position, he will bring you along with him. It is impossible to tell with him. At least, it is fun while it lasts.

[solart13]

For an art request can you please draw one of your headcanons?

I’m not entirely sure if this would be considered a headcanon or not but I like the thought that Aizawa is more emotionally open around Mic and that he values him a lot.

[Long wall of text of my thoughts and opinions incoming]

Like, I understand the comedy aspect of Aizawa being somewhat of a dick towards Mic seeing as that is how their dynamic is often portrayed as in the show, i.e. Aizawa being annoyed/putting up with Mic’s shenanigans. Their relationship does get more expanded upon in the Hospital raid arc but even then, Aizawa being more of a fan-favourite because, among other things, he’s part of the main cast gets more fleshed out than Mic despite Oboro having been both of their friend. In the hospital after the raid, Aizawa shows a certain degree of dismissiveness of Mic’s feelings, which yes, I can understand may be because he didn’t want to talk about it and that was his way of coping, but remember that they are alone and it has been shown that he is often more open with his feelings and opinions when it’s just the two of them, not to mention that Mic is now his only surviving friend from back in their days at U.A. At least maybe show the audience Aizawa having some kind of emotional reaction to the fact that Midnight, a close friend of theirs, who has impacted his life a lot, ex. with sending in an application to U.A, has just died.

And like I said, I do understand and actually like the more teasing side of their relationship but what I don’t like is when it’s just Aizawa treating Mic poorly and Mic is depicted as the stupid comic relief when his character is a lot more nuanced.

As previously mentioned, however, Mic is just a side character which means the show and the creator won’t bother making him more complex than necessary (often to further Aizawa’s story) which means that the fanbase who don’t think too much about him as a character will just staple him as the comic relief (which I want to make clear is totally fine because we all have characters we focus on more than others, be it a comfort character or simply just caring for one character more than another).

What I don’t like is when it’s clear that someone favours Aizawa more than Mic in the Erasermic relationship and portrays Mic as “inferior” to Aizawa and bases his character off of his stereotypes (ex. being loud all the time and acting immature) and won’t look past that. Fortunately, I rarely stumble upon this sort of interpretation and I want to once again make it clear that it’s fine if you like one character more in a ship, my point is that I personally dislike when the other character in the relationship isn’t given at least some of that focus and is more like an accessory than anything.

For me with the Erasermic dynamic, I like when a clear balance is shown. I personally am a big fan of Mic and I like breaking his character down to its bare bones and giving him more depth than the source material does…so basically making my own headcanons about him lol. But I also like Aizawa a lot and I guess my guilty pleasure is portraying them in a healthy and equal companionship where Mic isn’t the only one who openly shows his appreciation.

So, uh, yeah. That was a lot lol. Apologies for the long wait, I had an exam a few days ago and finally had some free time to work on the request. I hope the drawing is sufficient and correlates to the wall of text above.

On another note, here’s an extra little headcanon of these two being two of the smartest characters in the show, yet not hesitating to egg each other on when it comes to dumb ideas (I drew this in like 5 seconds and barely put any effort into it lol)

[shewassaying]

1000 DOWNLOAD CELELBRATION PT 3

The final iteration of our 1k Downloads celebration!

I'm sorry it's taken so long, it's been a wild month for me personally and professionally and that definitely got in the way of finishing this in the timing I'd hoped, but finally it's here!

Thank you all so much for your interest in our game!

Gorgeous art by @minthe-drawings!

FINALLY

by Cath

You pace, retracing your path across your studio over and over, and over. The sun is setting, the light cast across the walls shifting to an orangey-pink, and casting long shadows that cast the room in an eerie, comforting glow. 

Waiting sucks. It's never been your strong suit, but for some reason that's eluded you, it's worse today. You feel antsy down to your bones, like your blood is caffeine and your muscles electricity, pushing you to keep moving. But still, no matter how you comb through the tangles of your thoughts, you can't find the source of this damned anxiety, if that's even what you're feeling. 

Your pacing continues.

You've been dressed for an hour. When has that ever happened? 

You check the time, again. 6:31 PM. 

It's not unlike Aster to come and go, and it's rare you truly know where it is he's gone, but he is undeniably a creature of punctuality. If he says he'll be there at a specific time, without fail he would appear between the breaths marking one minute to the next. He was never late. But now... He said 6:30 pm, so where--

"Searching for me, Little Scorpion?"

His voice, always so calm and smooth and dark as a frozen laze, makes you spin on your heel. You set your eyes upon him then, leaning against the wall, a slight smile curving his pale lips. His eyebrow is arched in a way that makes you briefly question how long he's been standing there, if he's been watching you in that quiet way of his, and you simply hadn't noticed. 

But it isn't possible. You always notice him. You feel him, a prickle on the back of your neck, whenever he's near. 

Aster's smile held a shark-like edge, the glint before a true smirk. It was masking something else, though, a feeling you had not seen before, and could not identify. 

"I was." You return his smile and adjust the collar of your shirt. The way he looks at you, his eyes fixed on your face like he can see nothing else, makes you feel uncomfortably warm. 

"You look lovely. Are you ready to leave?" He asks, pulling himself from the wall in one languid motion. You look around yourself, trying to gather your thoughts. 

"Uh... yeah, yes. I'm ready." You smooth down your front, pressing the wrinkles out with your hand. 

Aster's eyebrow quirks once more, and his smile grows. He takes a step towards you, gliding forward as if his feet didn't even touch the floor.  

"You seem nervous, darling." His voice drops into the purr he knows flusters you, the one he likes to use to get your heart racing. 

"I'm-- I--" You sputter for a moment, wanting to deny it, and Aster's smile stretches into a grin. A laugh escapes you, a nervous sounding thing much higher than your voice normally is. "I guess... I am? I don't know why." 

Aster takes another long step towards you, and as if pulled by a magnet, you mirror the movement so you stand only an arm's length from each other. Aster's smile, the wickedness of it, softens to something gentler. Kinder. He often looks at you like this when you're writing, or when you're trying to work out some complex turn of plot. 

You smile back, and the action soothes your racing heart. Your thoughts clear a bit, and you notice, for the first time, Aster's outfit. He's wearing a proper, honest-to-goodness suit, with a golden yellow bowtie that makes his eyes appear to glow. 

"You look gorgeous." Your words are more breath than voice, and although you feel a flash of embarrassment, it's immediately mitigated by the wash of pleasure you feel when pink colors Aster's cheeks. It's fantastically rare to see him blush, and you relish each moment. 

Aster schools his face into something controlled and predatory, his grin wide, but the blush doesn't fade. 

"Thank you, little Scorpion." He takes your hand and leads you in a slow, luxurious turn, so he can admire every angle of you. "I undeniably pale in comparison to you. You look..." 

"Delicious?" You ask as you come face to face with him once more, beaming. It's his favorite compliment for you, and his own expression morphs to something devilish as you finish his sentence. Sinful. Delighted. "Well, you asked me to dress up, so..." You gesture to your outfit, carefully selected to make your eyes stand out, although you can't hope to have the same illumination Aster manages. Not without his--

Aster's hand ghosts over your cheek before his thumb and forefinger latch onto your chin. He gives the slightest pull, and like a puppet on strings, you step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. 

"Indeed. Delicious." He murmurs. His other hand rests on the side of your neck, the fingers curling around to tickle against your nape. 

"Isn't our reservation soon?" Dammit, why did you say that? You don't want to go yet, you don't want him to let you go. You want him closer. 

"Not so soon that we can't spare just a few minutes." He leans in, bringing his mouth nearer to yours, so your senses are filled with the scent of him. Aster smells of an incoming summer thunderstorm, ether in the air and the promise of rain. His lips graze yours, and you step in further, folding your body against his, slipping your arms around his waist over his coat, your skin gliding against the smooth fabric. 

You press in closer to deepen the kiss and--

You freeze. You don't mean to, but you can't help it. Your mind stutters into silence, refusing to identify the source of your shock, refusing to seek further. Aster is frozen similarly,unmoving, not even breathing, his gaze locked firmly and unblinkingly on yours. His eyes mirror your surprise, which only serves to prolong your freeze response. 

The silence stretches, a rubber band over the moment. Then, just as quickly, your thoughts snap back into your mind, filling it with thoughts that all point to the same thing. 

The feeling of a box, small and square, perhaps the size of the palm, tucked into Aster's coat pocket. 

It couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be what you think it is...

But Aster's expression is shifting, narrowing, and his smile sliding to the left side of his face, crooked and daring you to say it. 

Go ahead, Little Scorpion. 

Say it.

You swallow, and your throat is dry, and you're trying your hardest not to look at the pocket to try and get a visual to confirm what you feel under your hand. And you know. You're certain. 

It's a ring box. 

"Do you wish to... discuss it? Or shall we go to dinner?" He asks. His voice has an odd warble to it, a cracking quality that sounds almost like... if it were anyone else, you would say it sounded like nerves. But this being before you has never shown signs of being anything close to uneasy before, let nervous. It gives you a thrill, to know you have that kind of effect on him. 

The power it gives you, however, disappears quickly when you try to speak again. 

"Y-yes. I mean. No. Um..." You clear your throat. Pull it together! You're already trembling, and although you have no idea how you'll possibly eat your dinner at this point, you shake your head. "Let's go to dinner."

He drops a feather light kiss on your lips, barely a brushing of skin, before pulling you into a hug. Your hand slides away from the ring box and fixes itself against his back. The embrace steadies you, ebbing the sharper edges of anxiety into a blooming excitement. He releases you sooner than you'd like, but it's always sooner than you'd like, and it leaves every point of contact feeling cold. Then he's taking your hand and tilting his head towards you, looking eager and mischievous.

"Then let's go. We wouldn't want to be late."

[mochiimiiki]

| Butler’s Pet |

A/N: oh yandere barbie has my heart, pls whisk me away to the demon lord’s castle and keep me hostage, i’ll b good i promise

Warnings: Yandere! Barb

- - -

To be fair to yourself, it wasn’t like you intended for your life to unfold as so. You hadn’t expected that on that day, as you tiptoed through the weaving streets of the Devildom, that you would fall prey to your beloved Butler’s charm. That with seductive phrases and whispers of wonder, you’d find yourself within his clasp. And by the time you came to your senses the ordeal had occurred and it was too far too late.

Your day had a routine. Far more structure in comparison to your previous life, which now felt like a fever dream of freedom. Barbatos would come to you in the morning, softly calling your name, and disturb your slumber. He’d pick out the outfit he expected suited you best, waiting for your hum of approval and he’d respectfully leave you to change. Instead, he’d busy himself with his duties. Upon his return he’d prepared only the finest dishes in the three realms, a range of choices that he always made sure sated your desires. You’d then be left for time of leisure, the time in which you hated the most as the separation from your dear demon was too much to bear. After he’d return with lunch, then to be followed by a visiting guest, to which they’d only be granted an hour, and he was to stay to observe. Afterwards the butler always made sure to set aside time in his day to spend one on one before he’d prepared dinner, in which Diavolo would dine with you two. During the night the butler would be by your side, drawing you a bath, trailing a lazy pattern into the skin of your back, reading to you, pleasing you in every thinkable way.

Today, you expected, would be no different. He returned from his duties with a smile curling on his lips, eyes slight in pleasure at merely being able to gaze at your face. “My dear.” He hummed, pushing in a cart of luxurious foods, he always made sure to be present for your meals. How else could he adequately ensure you had a balanced and proper diet? The last thing he’d ever want was for his pet to fall ill.

You lifted your head, nose buried in one of the many rare books he had acquired for you. “Oh! Barbatos, this book is simply fascinating. Is Satan coming over today? I’m certain he’d love to borrow this.”

Barbatos shook his head with a frown, softly clearing his throat. “My dear, please sit.” His gentle words were an undeniable command. Sliding off the silk sheets you tiptoed to his side, the stone floors of the ancient castle cool against your bare feet. “I have taken it upon myself to deem the brothers unfit to entertain you, it seems they pose a threat to you.” He gently strokes your head, brushing back the curls of your hair behind an ear. “It would not be right to put my lamb in such a perilous situation, do you not agree?”

Your face fell. You worried your lip between your teeth, if the brothers couldn’t see you how were you supposed to occupy your time? It was already unbearable having Barbatos away from your side too long, without the need for him to observe you you’d be left alone for an even longer period of time. “But Barbatos, you’re always here to oversee.” You whine out, slipping into the chair he so graciously pulled out for you.

Barbatos shakes his head, a deep sigh falling from his parted lips. “Whilst that may be true it is without a doubt that they are too unpredictable. A simple disagreement could put you in harms way.” He hums, leaning down to softly kiss your temple. A gentle reminder of your soft spots, you’re not a demon after all. With a sigh you had to agree; he was right. He was simply protecting you, so he insisted.

“Regardless, since that time was already designated towards your safety Lord Diavolo should have no issue with allowing me to remain by your side, as designated.” Your face immediately lit up. Being in a castle by yourself was lonely to say the least, there were only so many books you could consume before the feeling resettled in your heart. You were entirely dependent on the butler, he made sure of it. You craved his attention as much as he craved your being.

Your eyes drifted from his emerald ones down to his lips. “I just want to spend time with you.”

He softly chuckled, hooking a finger under your chin and directing your gaze to his once more. “Who are you talking to, my darling, me or my lips?” His laughter reverberated throughout the still room at your flustered exterior. Craning his neck downwards he met your lips with his own. They pressed against you, soft at first, luring you in for more. His free hand hooked the back of your head and his gloved fingers lightly tugged on your hair. At last he parted, granting you breath, as a string of saliva attached your mouths before he leant closer and chastely pressed his lips against you in order to break the string. He pulled back with an adoring smile.

He pulled his hand away from your hair and gently patted the top of your head. Adoring the way your flushed face lit up at the unspoken praise. “How about you eat something now, Okay pet?” He hummed, pulling his chair to sit beside you; his pet.

[ptn-imagines]

hello, can i have some domestic headcanons for Langley x chief. or just nsfw headcanon with top chief if you are comfortable.

I have many NSFW headcanons for Langley, but only some apply to this situation. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

NSFW content below the cut.

NSFW headcanons for Langley and top!Chief

Maybe with some Sinners, Chief could be a “pure” top.

Not with Langley. With Langley, the only top Chief’s going to be is a service top – Langley holds the reins still, at the end of the day.

Part of this is simply the fact that Langley needs to be in control. For anyone in the DisCity’s political scene, but particularly for a Paradeisian spymaster and convicted criminal, control can be the difference between life and death, so she’s not exactly willing to cede it. Chief can be on top of her all they like, but Langley is the one setting the tempo.

Sex with Langley is rarely, if ever, a soft and gentle affair. Rather, it’s rough, fierce and at times intertwines pleasure with pain – in part because their jobs leave little free time for anything slower, and in part simply because that’s the way Langley likes it, and Chief certainly isn’t complaining.

Langley is always the one to offer sex. When Chief accepts, it isn’t long before the spymaster is the only thing adorning the Chief’s desk, pinned beneath the other. Notably, the Chief always ends up fully undressed first.

Chief is allowed to tease Langley… technically. But if they do it a second longer than Langley permits, they’ll quickly be punished with sharp nails raking down their back or teeth biting harshly into their skin, both leaving behind prominent marks. Chief doesn’t mind, though it’s always an embarrassing affair to have to cover up any visible bruises or scratches the next day.

…Of course, Langley does often like to scratch and bite without being provoked, as well. Sometimes it even draws traces of blood to the surface. The first time it happened, Chief had several realizations about themself all in the span of a few seconds.

Surprisingly, Langley’s breasts aren’t much of an erotic zone for her. Occasionally, Chief will go for them anyway, sucking on her tits like their life depends on it. More often, though, they’ll run their hands along Langley’s sensitive sides and abdomens while making out with her. On days where Langley is feeling particularly relaxed, she’ll allow the Chief to touch her shoulder blades as well, which, while they’re an erotic zone for her, are also a location she doesn’t often trust others with.

As far as preferred sex acts go, Langley enjoys having the Chief eat her out and penetrate her in equal amounts. In the case of the former, she’ll always roughly tangle her hand in Chief’s hair and pull on it, cooing words that mix between praise and degradation.

When it comes to penetration, she doesn’t particularly care if Chief is using a strap or simply what they were endowed with, as long as they’re rough about it. Soft sex holds no interest or true pleasure for Langley, and she’s more than happy to let them know if their performance is dissatisfactory. She won’t be nice about it, either.

Either way, Langley is not particularly vocal during sex – most of the noise will definitely be coming from Chief. The biggest indications that Langley is enjoying herself are physical – the quickening of her breath and, of course, the undeniable facts presented by her arousal.

Work doesn’t always allow time for proper aftercare after sex, so if they’re running short on time, Langley always focuses on Chief’s aftercare. She can be surprisingly tender during these moments, albeit in a very Langley way, as she’s well aware of how she can get during sex and wouldn’t want her adorable rookie to suffer any of the possible side-effects of a lack of aftercare. It always amazes Chief just how casual Langley is after sex.

If they do have more time, though, Langley herself is partial to sharing a bath and a glass of wine. Chief doesn’t usually drink during these moments, but it’s nevertheless a rather tranquil moment of a rare peace for the both of them.

[soursvgar]

Hi there! Was reading through your posts and im absolutely enchanted by the way you write the brothers :)

If its okay to put in a request, Could you write for an artistic MC asking to draw the brothers? Or if all of them is too much, just luci, satan and mayybe solomon?

Artistic MC asking to draw them ♡

A/N: first of all thank you so much!! ;v; I ended up only writing the three you asked so I hope that's okay! I wasn't sure where you wanted me to take it so I tried a couple different directions, I really hope you'd enjoy it! ♡

Lucifer, Satan, Solomon x gender neutral reader ; slightly suggestive but mostly fluff

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Lucifer ━ ෆ

Lucifer would most likely refuse to admit that it makes him not only flattered, but also secretly excited when you ask to draw him. Being your muse has a unique ring to it, and he gets giddy simply thinking about you receiving inspiration from him. He prides himself in his elegance, and as modest as he may present himself, you recognizing his beauty and charm serves as a mighty compliment to him, as well as a stroke to his ego.

Chances of rejection were slim in the first place, as Lucifer's guilty pleasure had always been to make you happy, in any way possible, but not at all costs; even he may sometimes refuse you, mostly due to his busy schedule and prior commitments to Diavolo. Therefore, you choose a quiet evening when he had some seemingly rare spare time to suggest the two of you use it for a bonding activity. You hesitate when he asks what's on your mind, but your worries promptly fade when you drop the question, noticing his amused expression. You can immediately tell he likes the idea, and you could just as much conclude of all the different directions his brain is taking it to.

"Use me as your model? Is that what your heart desires?" Lucifer smirks, holding a glass of demonus snug within his fingers. Swirling it, he watches as the liquid inside create stain marks along the rim before his lips inch closer to take a sip. "Very well. In that case, I shall do so." He sets down the glass, now focusing on you as he sprinkles in his own suggestion. "Should I stay clothed for this, though?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Satan ━ ෆ

Satan himself is a work of art. His perfectly sculpted face and chiseled body pale in comparison to his compelling nature━ it was things like the way his lips moved in perfect sync when he read to you out of a book, and the depth his sentences carried when he made a promise to you, fingers ghosting over yours ever so slightly━ that captured your heart. In the eyes of an artist, the word breath-taking does not do justice to describe his appeal.

It's early morning when you uncharacteristically wake up before Satan does. The dark silhouettes breaching through the window adjacent to the bed in his room fall perfectly on his sleeping features, creating a contour to his already impeccable face. You catch yourself staring, it's not often you get to witness Satan deep in slumber, seeming remarkably relaxed. You barely manage to avert his blonde locks away from his face when his eyes flutter open; lost in his gaze, the words rather slip out of your mouth.

"You want to draw me?" Satan cocks an eyebrow before his expression softens, a grin lifts the corners of his lips. "I've read about it in a novel once, but I didn't realize you find me so enticing to satisfy your artistic ventures." He props himself on his elbow, closing the distance between the two of you as he hushes a reply. "I'll do that, only because I have the most beautiful masterpiece to appreciate while I pose."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Solomon ━ ෆ

With Solomon, things just seem to flow like water, effortlessly. Perhaps it was your initial core that connected the both of you, being the two sole humans in the exchange program for a very long time. Or maybe it was the time spent as his apprentice that brought you closer, awarding you with some quality time and a chance to be more familiar with each other. You couldn't pinpoint the exact reason, but something about him just made you feel relaxed, cared for, and appreciated.

Chuckling, he was teasing different poses as you sat by the aisle, physically unable to contain your smile. When you asked to draw him, you hadn't a doubt that he will agree, but you couldn't fathom how enjoyable it would be for him. For the past hour, he eagerly suggested ideas - from the color palette, through different themes, and up to offering some magical tools to add life to the drawing, quite literally.

"You know, I can't really get any work done like this." Snickering, you sit him down in the location of your choice before sneaking a peck to the tip of his nose. "Let me do what I'm good at. You trust me, right?" Just before you turn on your heels and back to your aisle, you feel a tug on your arms.

"There is no one I trust more than you." And with that, Solomon pulls you to his level, capturing your lips in an amorous kiss.

[justcallmefox89]

Gnome Troubles - Chapter Nine (Astarion's POV)

Wicket is more perceptive than Astarion planned on.

Potential TW: brief mentions of Astarion's attitude/reluctance towards sex, but mainly a very fluffy and understanding Wicket.

Astarion tries to remain calm, forcing himself to relax against Wicket as the gnome whispers gentle words and showers him with soft touches and warm kisses.  This was not how Astarion had planned for their encounter to go, had needed their encounter to go in order to ensure Wicket’s loyalty and protection.

“Are you here with me, dearest?” Rough fingertips tenderly touch Astarion chin, turning his head until his eyes meet Wicket’s concerned gaze.  His colorless eyes, so often flat and detached, now burn with pale fire as he stares intently at Astarion.

The vampire forces a carefree smile onto his lips.  “Absolutely.”

“Hm.”  Wicket pulls away slightly, looking entirely unconvinced.

Damn this observant gnome.

Pushing down his reservations Astarion launches himself at Wicket, fusing his mouth to his in a passionate kiss.  He takes advantage of their size difference and Wicket’s momentary surprise, and nimbly rolls the other man onto his back.  Astarion kisses down the side of Wicket’s neck, ignoring the temptation to feed, and slides his hands under the rough fabric of his shirt.  He runs his hands up Wicket’s torso, relishing the sheer warmth of his skin and the way the muscles of his stomach shudder and tense beneath his fingertips.  This is his element, the medium in which he excels whether he enjoys it or not. 

Astarion pauses his exploration of Wicket’s body as his hands reach the gnome’s chest, tracing along a mass of raised scar tissue located directly over Wicket’s heart.

Wicket’s body stiffens and he gently, but firmly, slides Astarion’s hands out from beneath his shirt.  “Let’s leave some things to the imagination, hm?”

“But-” Astarion begins to protest, intrigued in spite of himself.

Wicket brushes his lips against Astarion’s in a fleeting caress.  “There are so many things we could be doing that are much more interesting than my old scars,” he purrs, urging Astarion onto his back.  “Let me show you…”

Astarion wants to object, to demand answers, but then Wicket flicks his tongue against the vampire’s pulse point, and suddenly whatever questions he may have don’t seem quite so important.  Wicket continues to kiss up his neck, pausing to nip at his earlobe before tracing the shell of his ear with the tip of his tongue.  Astarion shudders at the pleasurable feel of the gnome’s warm breath against the sensitive point of his ear, his skin breaking out in goosebumps.

Maybe this time it won’t be so bad… since it’s him.

Wicket kisses Astarion’s cheek, drawing the elf out of his negative thoughts.  Realizing this is his time to ensure the cleric’s protection, Astarion forces himself to focus on the task at hand.

“Darling, why don’t you -”

Wicket’s catches his hand as he reaches for him, tenderly kissing his palm.  “What did I say about your pleasure?”

Astarion takes a shuddering breath as Wicket kisses the tip of each of his fingers, then his palm again, ending with a warm, lingering kiss on his inner wrist.  “That… that…”

Wicket continues kissing up his forearm, pausing only to peek up at Astarion beneath his lashes with a wicked smirk.  “Mmm?”

“That my pleasure is your pleasure?” Astarion sighs out the last word as Wicket’s lips skim up his bicep to his shoulder.

“Then allow me to indulge in my desires, beautiful one,” Wicket murmurs, gently scraping his teeth against Astarion’s collarbone.

Brief panic flashes through the elf at Wicket’s words, accompanied by a rarely felt surge of lust.  Wicket somehow senses Astarion’s discomfort and instantly ceases his exploration of the other man’s body, simply resting his head against Astarion’s bicep and holding his hand, stroking his thumb across his knuckles.  Many quiet moments pass as Astarion’s breathing calms and he relaxes into Wicket’s warmth.

“I think we should stop for the night,” Wicket says softly.

“What? Why?” Astarion snaps, unwilling to miss out on this opportunity despite his discomfort.

Wicket tilts his back to meet Astarion’s angry gaze.  “I have done many terrible things in my life, but I have never, and will never, force myself on an unwilling partner.”

“I -”

“You may not be unwilling but you’re not entirely comfortable either,” Wicket says firmly.  “So for tonight, this ends here.”

Astarion glares at him, furious that his grand plan has been foiled by Wicket’s decency.  “Fine,” he snaps, sitting up and crossing his arms in irritation.

Wicket chuckles and sweeps his long hair back over his shoulders at his sits up.  “Have you fed today?”

“No,” the vampire answers testily.

Wicket huffs in quiet amusement.  “You do tend to be more petulant than usual when you’re hungry.”

“You pompous little - ” Astarion’s insults die in his throat as Wicket reclines back on the blanket, tugging down the collar of his shirt to bare his throat to the vampire’s hungry gaze.  He licks his lips uncertainly, his eyes darting from Wicket’s neck to his face and then back again. 

Wicket crooks a finger at him, beckoning him closer.  Astarion settles on the blanket next to him, slipping one hand beneath his head and the other around his waist to hold him close. 

“Are you sure?” he whispers uncertainly.

Wicket tenderly traces the sharp curve of Astarion’s cheekbone with the tip of one finger.  “Take what you need from me.”

Some long dead part of Astarion flickers to life in that moment, a withered flower stretching towards the pale light of a winter’s morning after years of darkness.

He brushes an infinitely gentle kiss against Wicket’s slightly rough lips.  “This is a gift, you know,” he whispers hoarsely.  “I won’t forget it.”

[gh0ullie]

Lingerie!!

[ Kaeya + Childe + Venti ] x Chubby! Reader

18+, NSFW, Minors do not interact!

────────────────────────────────────────────

tags: fem! reader, chubby! reader, lingerie, fingering, riding, biting, cunnilingus

Kaeya

Kaeya just stares for a moment, taking in the sight of you. Clothed in nothing but some sheer lace, you fidget beneath his gaze, wishing he’d say something. 

“Wow,” he finally says, bemusement in his voice. His eye sparkles with excitement, and he gestures for you to step closer. When you do, he places a hand over the ruffles on your chest, letting his hand glide over the curves of your body to settle on your hip. “A rare treat indeed. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

You blush. “I just thought it would be cute,” you murmur, and he smiles. 

“It is. You’re adorable,” he tells you as he leans in to kiss your neck. His hands roam across the lace, cupping your breasts, lightly squeezing your belly, kneading your ass. Eventually his fingers wander between your legs, where he quickly finds your clit and starts rubbing circles into it. 

You melt beneath his touch, mewling and moaning as he guides your hand to his clothed erection. Unzipping him, you draw out his cock from its confines, stroking along its length. He lets out a soft hum of satisfaction as your fingers swirl around his tip, and the sound makes you swoon. 

Kaeya guides you to the sofa nearby, where he sits down, gesturing for you to straddle him. You take position, a bit hesitant, but he runs a soothing hand down along your curves and he leans in to kiss you. His silver tongue makes you melt, and a thin string of saliva runs down your chin. 

You roll your hips experimentally and an approving noise escapes his throat, encouraging you to grind down harder. You rub your pussy along the length of his erection, a hand squeezing your tits, your thighs, your belly as the kiss deepens to a panting fervor. Finally, you can’t take it anymore, and you reach down, pulling your panties aside, positioning him at your entrance, and sliding yourself down onto him. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you take him in, your walls shuddering around his girth. He hums a low moan into your kiss, and moves his hands to your ass, squeezing half moons into your flesh as he guides you up, then bounces you back down onto his cock. 

“My, my, I am truly the luckiest man in the world. A present all wrapped up nice and pretty, and one who serves herself to me to boot,” he purrs. You giggle, and kiss him again. 

The two of you continue like this for some time, his mouth eventually wandering down to your tits, his tongue swirling around your nipple, swollen from the attention. As you get close, your rhythm stutters, as he’s bottoming out with each thrust, and it’s just so much that you can’t take it anymore, and… You come in tandem, your hips spasming as he twitches inside of you. 

He strokes your cheek as you both come down from the high. 

“Thank you for the treat, it was truly a delight,” he says with a soft laugh. You smile wide, and wrap your arms around him tight. 

────────────────────────────────────────────

Childe

Childe looks shocked when he walks in to see you clothed in nothing but a frilly teddy, your wide hips hidden only by thin, sheer lace, your tummy peeking out between the folds of the fabric, your squishy thighs bubbling up over the elastic of the garter belt you wore. For several moments he simply stares, mouth agape, as you fiddle with the hem of the teddy. 

“Say something,” you urge. 

“Sorry, I… wow,” he replies, simply dumbstruck. With a couple of quick, long strides, he’s at your side, wrapping an arm around your waist. He gropes greedily at your chest, as he leans in to kiss your neck. 

“Archons, you’re so fucking hot,” he mutters into your ear, his voice low. A blush rises on your cheeks. 

Leading you over to the bed behind you, he tosses you down onto it, hungrily crawling on top of you, towering over your negligee-clad form like a predator. He wastes no time letting his hands wander across your body once more, his expression greedy yet reverent. 

He lowers his mouth to a nipple, biting down lightly on the bud, sending a shockwave through your body. With one hand, he moves to undo his pants, drawing his cock out. Childe seems in a rush to devour you, and sure enough, he next spreads your legs, letting his fingers sink into your soft thighs. 

“Can I?” he asks. You’re unsure if your response will change his course of action, but you nod your head. 

At the gesture he spreads you even further, and shoves himself deep inside of you. You both moan as he reaches deep, your walls warm and soft and swallowing him whole. He begins to move, and you can both immediately tell this will be a quick one. Your pussy clenching him tight, as if trying to keep him inside, trying to greedily swallow him whole. 

Childe runs his hands along your sides, down to your hips, gripping them to guide you back and forth onto his cock. 

“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” he says. 

“So you like it?” you ask with a giggle. 

“Like it?” he asks, “I love it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You wrap your arms around him as he bucks his hips into you, hot squelching noises echoing through the room. Soon, his thrusts become more and more fervent, until finally, he pulls out and shoots his load across your abdomen. 

You barely get a moment to catch your breath as he pulls you into a deep kiss. You mentally prepare yourself for a long night: now that you’ve got him going, you know you won’t get away easily. 

────────────────────────────────────────────

Venti

Venti doesn’t miss a step when he walks into the room to see you clothed in nothing but lacy negligee, immediately bounding over and wrapping his arms around you. 

“Wow, what’s this?” he asks, his voice jubilant. He takes your hands in his and looks you up and down. A lace chemise hugs your curves, hiding a tiny thong and a garter belt that holds up thigh high stockings. “You look amazing!” 

You blush, as he runs his hands down your sides, stopping at your stomach and jiggling it a little. 

“H-hey!” you say, and he laughs happily. 

“You are so so so adorable. So incredibly gorgeous. My sweet, soft lover…,” he reaches a hand forward, kneading one of your tits with his long, lithe fingers as he leans forward to press kisses onto your chest. “Nothing can compare to this, it’s truly heaven.” 

You reach down and stroke his head as he nuzzles into your breasts, and he chuckles a bit. Pulling back, he grabs your shoulders and spins you around, before bending down and grabbing your ass in both hands, again kneading his fingers into it. 

“V-Venti?” you say his name quizzically, unsure of what he has planned. 

“Can you bend over a little?” he asks, his tone light. You do, and he whistles. “Truly heaven,” he repeats. 

He keeps one hand on your ass as he snakes the other down between your legs, rubbing along your slick through the thin lace thong. You jerk a little at the touch, but his firm grip on your ass keeps you in place as he crouches down and replaces his hand with his tongue. He runs it up and down along the length of your entrance, thoroughly saturating it with both his saliva and the first of your own fluids. Peeling the damp fabric away, he shoves his tongue fully inside, moving his hands to your thighs and spreading them apart slightly to get better access. 

Venti skillfully uses his tongue to find just the right spots sliding a finger in for good measure, and curling it up against your hot spot. Moans and mewls drip from your lips as you try to keep your knees steady under his assault. 

When you’re dripping wet, and he seems satisfied, he finally pulls away, licking his lips loudly. 

“Now for the main event,” he laughs, pulling out his cock from its confines. His erection is long and lithe to match his fingers, and he wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance from behind. 

With a buck of his hips, Venti slides inside, his hands greedily pawing at your ass, your stomach, your tits. He’s not a quiet fuck – his moans echo through the room along with yours as he thrusts into you with wild abandon. 

He doesn’t waste any time either, and it’s not long before you can feel him on the verge of climax. A few more wild thrusts, and he pulls out, finishing across your ass. 

“Now, it’s your turn,” he says, “What sort of fantasies can I fulfill for you tonight, my love?” 

[talesfromdvalin]

WELT YANG AS YOUR THERAPIST

Please, be careful. Age difference, daddy issues. Translate or reblog is alright, but remember, that I may ask you to delete if I would not alright with your blog. Thank you. The place I will most of all.

How many clients does he have?

ㅤ Welt is popular in the private clinic as one of the best therapists that can be recommended. He has been in practice for over fifteen years, making him a one-stop pill for ailments, and all people who have come to see him at least once have stayed for several more appointments afterwards. The main problem was the price of the session. Not everyone could afford the expensive pleasure of brain therapy, but Welt , the damn empath, couldn't control the sincere sympathy inside him, and it turned out the same way every time: he made discounts or helped his clients outside of working hours, which greatly burdened the man and turned him into a walking dead man.

ㅤ He has a problem with sleep deprivation. It's a good thing that Welt learns to separate work and non-work time by drawing a clear and obvious line; it often takes him a long time to get into the "I'm not laboring" state.

ㅤ How quickly will you realize that this therapist is right for you?

ㅤ If your type is grown men who wear glasses and look extremely stern, empathic, and multi-faceted, then immediately. Perhaps simply because you won't have a particularly big choice - you'll find yourself in an emotionally tight space with a man who smells like vanilla and bitter coffee beans. Mr. Yang keeps eye contact at all times, sometimes oblivious to the fact that people might be uncomfortable with it, and there's a real understanding shining at the bottom of his glossy eyes. It's probably the reason people stay with him and sometimes even want to get an extracurricular contact, but Welt very rarely shares phone numbers. He wants to dedicate his life to people, but he can't leave himself out. Psychotherapists also have the right to get sick and prescribe medication for themselves, but it's not to say that Welt does it often - it's hard to figure out how to self-medicate. Plus, he's too tired, so he mostly takes sedatives or brain-activating substances when he's tired.

ㅤ Welt Yang is very good at hearing people's demands and distinguishing between urges. He prioritizes correctly, though he may pretend to follow a person's need to get rid of this or that sore first. In a sense, he enlightens illusions, making them believable by actually attending to more important things and prioritizing competently.

ㅤ Of course, like any therapist, your tolerance may not accrue to each other in tandem, and Mr. Yang may even come across as "stuffy" and "arrogant," in which case the most beneficial option for both of you is to simply walk away.

ㅤ Who will he become to you first - a friend or an object of affection?

At once a creature between the thin two edges. What is he to you? Unknown, but warm and close, surprising. Mr. Yang is the only man who shows care, and the emergence of tender feelings would not surprise him. This happens in practice quite often, and no matter how careful a man is, there are still unpleasant lapses in the course of which one has to balance his work and the health of a client or client in love.

ㅤ Welt is attentive and always beautiful. His delicate hands take notes, focusing on the voice of the person he's talking to - you - time after time. All the beautiful things he does while paying attention to you sink into your very heart. No one has ever treated you with such sensitivity and care, and it makes your heart flutter. Wrong feelings, the nastiest - you were well aware that they had no place, so you kept the fire of unfair attention craving burning in the walls of the office, in the chair you were sitting in. You tried to forget about them for a month, separating them from the next meeting, but it didn't work well. Though sometimes you could even forget that Mr. Yang was waiting for you.

ㅤ "You seem troubled," Welt's address was friendly as usual, "I can help.

ㅤ "You can," you reply wistfully, "but you can't.

ㅤ Yes, that's right. All it takes to quiet a frantically pounding heart is a hug from Mr. Yang, which is unacceptable given that it's a breach of etiquette and the discipline of keeping one's distance. Just one hug will heal your soul and put a nasty hope in your mouth that you'll get a hug again, and then again, and maybe you'll come to Mr. Yang to sleep in his arms, because that was the best medicine he had to offer.

ㅤ The words you spoke already faintly hinted to Welt that something already familiar and quite familiar was happening. Something that Welt wanted less than anything else in the world, and couldn't put it forward as a cure. So the man took a deep breath and admitted to himself: this was a curse that God himself had sent him.

ㅤ How will Welt really feel about you?

ㅤ There's no hiding that disdain and compassion. He'd like to work with happy people, but there's nothing better than watching people walk away from him with a sincere grateful smile. He doesn't count money, he doesn't think about keeping more people for a high income, never no. Seeing your crush means initially noticing the modesty, the avoidance of a direct look, the desire to hear more from himself than stories about himself. The mechanics of the process are perfectly familiar to Mr. Yang, and frankly, he doesn't understand at what point he's doing something wrong. Why do young girls feel almost physical excitement watching his hands, his gait? Maybe he should change his strict clothes for something more primitive and unattractive? But then it would look… tasteless.

ㅤ Welt feels a heaviness in his stomach every time he sees you, as if a heavy stone has been thrown to the bottom of his stomach, pressing him back against the chair. He tries to move less, but sighs more often, and a new feeling slides into his eyes that you haven't yet been able to recognize. Mr. Yang doesn't really feel reciprocated for you, and that would be foolish if it weren't true. Velt has met all sorts of different and unique people in his extensive career experience, and if he could "fall in love" with someone, he'd probably have had time to do so by now. You're still just a teenager in search of yourself, and apparently you have father figure issues since you're clinging to a working adult male.

ㅤ As Welt has said before, this is the bane of his position. He doesn't consider himself particularly handsome or old, though the years are slowly taking their toll, nor does he think about the distant future. He simply has nothing to talk to naive souls about. It's hard to say what qualities you must have to make Welt suddenly want to push the rules aside and be interested in you as an individual, not a patient. And yet if you allow this option, Welt is quite skillful at "extinguishing" the wrong feeling in you.

ㅤ What if it's… the right one? Who but a man to love a man? Mr. Yang will get lost in ideas and thoughts. He won't be able to trust the real him or the false reflection, and the only way out will be the most primitive continuation of the work. Throw the whole thing aside, put a lid on it and throw it down the garbage chute.

ㅤWhat's going on in his family relationships, if any?

ㅤ Welt doesn't have a woman he loves as much as he could, perhaps simply because he doesn't want to commit to a relationship so "recklessly". Things have to go slow and curious, turning interest into romance, and for Mr. Yang, that doesn't mean dating or showing attention at all. Romance is a much broader and more difficult concept; romance is steeped in facial expressions, in rich airs, in subtle touches, in withdrawal. All of this makes the possibility of a therapist-patient relationship closer to reality, because he doesn't need close and constricting contact as a catalyst for falling in love and touching. Welt prefers to touch consciousnesses.

ㅤ Canonical Welt has an adopted son. In the current circumstances, this may be a son he raised long ago and set free to sail, helping both financially and emotionally. Mr. Yang's treasures truly close people, and let's face it, he only has one such person - his son.

ㅤ He has lived a long life, but has never truly learned what it means to love person to person, touching the boundaries of romantic love. Welt loves life in all its manifestations, which is not hard to see.

ㅤ In the evenings, Welt comes home from work to spend time in intoxicating solitude. He doesn't want the opposite outcome. He's not interested in people. After socializing enough at work, sometimes even discussing more fun and curious topics with talkative optimists, his social battery starts to replenish from scratch. Welt sins of watching simple series or programs, choosing them for a long time on the TV. The most primitive timekillers, which he notices in the process of sudden advertisements on his phone, also help him relax. His brain has been working very hard during the day, and all Welt needs is a lack of attention from people.

ㅤHow would he react to your behavior?

ㅤ How would you want him to react? And how do you act yourself? If you openly confess your warm feelings, Welt will listen and nod. He doesn't know how to react. All a man has to do is use a technique he's personally developed - discussion. Why do these feelings arise? What can be done about them? Where to put your energy, how to distract yourself, how to get past the negative experience of rejection…. you will discuss unrequited love with the object of your affection. Veldt may not look worried, but that's only because it's not the first time he's worked under these conditions. My soul's a little twitchy. No, seriously, he's too focused on "right" and "wrong" to recognize spiritual change, so you'd better drop the idea of a long-term relationship.

ㅤ However, if you keep going to him for a year and those feelings persist, Welt will consider… cutting them off. The meetings, I mean. It's going too far, he's getting worse from your presence, from looking at this sad existence. My heart. is torn with sympathy. Shame and even guilt that he can't take these feelings and make you happy, as a therapist is required to do. Mr. Yang may be sick. But he can't take this torture any longer.

ㅤ What is the most poignant moment within your relationship and how will it develop further?

ㅤ The moment when Welt goes to get the prescriptions to sign them. He has yet to leave the office, just touching the doorknob, before you grab his sleeve and hug him from behind. It doesn't have to be like this. No. Your warm touch burns cold into his soul and rubs his ribs with ice; Mr. Yang freezes for a few seconds, afraid to even move. How long had it been since anyone had hugged him like this? How long had it been since he had touched anyone? All the usual emptiness of society suddenly presses in, making Welt think as if he's losing something special and unknown, and remains standing for a while longer, letting you warm your hands against his ironed black shirt.

ㅤ Maybe human touch isn't as indifferent to Welt as he thought.

No, when you pull away, everything will go back to normal. He'll continue to exist and return to the empty house adorned with the coziness of a deserted space to play silly time-killers and relax. This is really the only truly enjoyable version of Welt's life. He doesn't feel like discussing the hard days.

ㅤ Although. now you're standing flush against each other and not talking about anything, but Welt gets an unfamiliar feeling of companionship, the truest of conversations. No one could give him non-verbal contact but you, and it triggered adrenaline, fear, desire. Mr. Yang thought about how maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to give you a chance to bond, but not necessarily the one you wanted - just the one that interested you both. Time.

ㅤ Will Welt stop practicing with you when he finds out where this is going?

ㅤ How would you like him to react? And what do you do yourself? If you openly confess your warm feelings, Welt will listen and nod. He doesn't know how to react. All a man has to do is use a technique he's personally developed - discussion. Why do these feelings arise? What can be done about them? Where to put your energy, how to distract yourself, how to get past the negative experience of rejection…. you will discuss unrequited love with the object of your affection. Veldt may not look worried, but that's only because it's not the first time he's worked under these conditions. My soul's a little twitchy. No, seriously, he's too focused on "right" and "wrong" to recognize spiritual change, so you'd better drop the idea of a long-term relationship.

ㅤ However, if you keep going to him for a year and those feelings persist, Welt will consider… cutting them off. The meetings, I mean. It's going too far, he's getting worse from your presence, from looking at this sad existence. My heart. is torn with sympathy. Shame and even guilt that he can't take these feelings and make you happy, as a therapist is required to do. Mr. Yang may be sick. But he can't take this torture any longer.

ㅤ What is the most poignant moment within your relationship and how will it develop further?

ㅤ The moment when Welt goes to get the prescriptions to sign them. He has yet to leave the office, just touching the doorknob, before you grab his sleeve and hug him from behind. It doesn't have to be like this. No. Your warm touch burns cold into his soul and rubs his ribs with ice; Mr. Yang freezes for a few seconds, afraid to even move. How long had it been since anyone had hugged him like this? How long had it been since he had touched anyone? All the usual emptiness of society suddenly presses in, making Welt think as if he's losing something special and unknown, and remains standing for a while longer, letting you warm your hands against his ironed black shirt.

ㅤ Maybe human touch isn't as indifferent to Welt as he thought.

No, when you pull away, everything will go back to normal. He'll continue to exist and return to the empty house adorned with the coziness of a deserted space to play silly time-killers and relax. This is really the only truly enjoyable version of Welt's life. He doesn't feel like discussing the hard days.

ㅤ Although. now you're standing flush against each other and not talking about anything, but Welt gets an unfamiliar feeling of companionship, the truest of conversations. No one could give him non-verbal contact but you, and it triggered adrenaline, fear, desire. Mr. Yang thought about how maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to give you a chance to bond, but not necessarily the one you wanted - just the one that interested you both. Time.

ㅤ Will Welt stop practicing with you when he finds out where this is going?

ㅤ That's a tough question. He'll really want to, but he just can't. Welt is empathic, and at some point will think it's a little wrong to lose you from his life. Welt is interested in what you have going on, he likes it when you share your joys and experiences. And if this is all over, Welt will stop waiting for the second of every month. It's embarrassing, but it's true.

ㅤ How will he feel behind the walls of his office? Will Welt love you?

ㅤ Humanity. He will feel love for a human being. It won't become a romantic feeling, but it will go deep into the bowels of the mind, and if there is a brain to dig into, Welt will willingly do so and train you. The time you spend together is romantic, tender, but it is still a way of acknowledging each other's respect and importance. Silence means that Welt hears your soul.

ㅤ Learning to love the way Welt loves is very difficult. But his feelings are contagious; gradually you will realize and accept that the love you experience is not as comfortable, interesting, and significant as the love Welt offers. You become friends first and foremost. There is no vulgarity or lust between you, at least not for the first few years, because it requires him to recognize you as part of the family.

ㅤ He will be introducing you to his world and way of thinking. Oh, Yang can hear you and everything about you just fine - so you don't have to worry about being misunderstood.