#❛ HEADCANON ( my fingers are tingling / my mouth is dry ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

winniethewife · 8 months ago

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Thank you for the headcanons winnie😭❤️

You just give the best and most accurate headcanons ever!

Congratulations on the 300 followers, btw😍 You deserve more!

For the second request, I wanna throw off the boys😌

I mean what's the point of requesting if there won't be anything smutty right?!

So, gimme gimme *grabby hands* the headcanons about how our moon boys would react when they are mad and the reader gets turned on by that😃

*looks at the camera breaking the 4th wall* Y'all...Lets do this. Give Mani what she wants.

Pissed/Cross/Enojado

Moon-Knight Smut head canons (Female reader)

Warnings: Smut under the cut, Angry sex, phone sex, degradation, mild violence, general toxicity,

Marc

Marc was pissed off. He had just had a pointless fight over the phone with some guy about something. You weren't paying attention to details.

you were a little more focused on the tingling between your legs

Marc doesn't get mad very often, if ever. So you had no idea what his angry raised voice would do to you.

When he comes into the room he continues to rant and rave, trying to release some of the built up tension That's when he notices your squirming

"Baby are you...are you turned on right now?"

After you hesitantly tell him that yes you are turned on by his behavior, he's taken a back. He doesn't really know how to respond.

It isn't until the next time he's pissed off at something that it comes into play.

You heard him growl intensely as he walked through the door and before you can even ask what's wrong, your back is against the wall and his lips are on yours. His hands grabbing you like you're the answer to all his problems

There's nothing that's going to stop him from taking what he needs

Your pants torn off, his weeping cock at your entrance, as he bites at your neck.

"God...Fuck...Need this...Need you"

Steven

Steven Hardly ever gets Cross. Unless its about work, and Donna.

He was going on and on over the phone to you about how much he was done with Donna and all the shite he had to do as a giftshopist.

you couldn't help but enjoy his irate rambling. a little too much even.

your hand drifting down your body as you listen to his voice, coating your fingers in your slick as you rub your fingers between your damp folds

"And I told her that she should shove it where the light don't shine, or at least I wanted to but...Love? are you alright? it sounds like your whimpering?"

you stop in you tracks and try to figure out how to answer his question. you decide honesty is the best policy and tell him that your touching yourself.

You can hear his breath hitch. he couldn't help it the thought of your fingers inside of you.

"I can be at yours in half an hour. Don't move"

the phone line clicks. and you follow his orders. When he comes rushing in the door you can see the outline of his cock in his pants as he looks at you desperately.

"So...you need me that badly love? well. Let me help with that."

Jake

Jake, knew he had fucked up the second he had thrown that plate. but he was so angry.

as the plate had whizzed past your head you knew you should have been scared, but instead you found your cunt clenching around nothing and your mouth going dry.

"Dios mío, Sstás bien? I'm so sorry, I don't know...what came over me." Oh, my God, are you okay?

He rushes to hold you and be sure you are alright but wasn't expecting this reaction, the way you melted in his arms, the soft moan that escaped your lips as his hands touched your hips. at first he gets more mad, you are turned on by this? of all things?

His grip tightens on you and the way he huffs in anger before quickly bending you over the nearby counter. yanking down your pants as he starts to mutter curses under his breath.

"Putita, just want to be fucked is that it? you like this? You like me like this? well lets see how you feel after this. eh?"

he pushes two fingers into you with frustration, not caring that your not wet enough, not caring as you cry out from the stretch of your walls.

you cry out, the feeling is so good, but almost too much. As he finger fucks you he lets out all his anger on your poor little pussy. bringing you to your climax again and again and again.

"Te gusta cuando estoy enojado? Te mostraré enojado!" Do you like it when I'm angry? I'll show you angry!

300 follower celebration

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theoneandonlysemla · 4 months ago

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New Chapter Alert:

Chapter 3 - Nocturnal Visits

The next chapter of Dealings with Daedra - The Curse of Molag Bal is online now! And we have *drumroll* SMUT 🥳 Plus, my particular headcanon of Teldryn being pierced in a special place.

I have a little excerpt for you (Of course I'm not giving you the smut here!):

Nevri tore her eyes open. Her heart was beating up to her throat, pounding relentlessly throughout her body. The palpitations shook her, sweat stood on her forehead and a salty taste lay on her lips. A whimper came from her mouth, sounding foreign and distant from herself. Her cramped fingers clutched at her blanket, her chest rose and fell in frantic movements. She had no feeling in her legs, just a sickening tingling sensation, as if thousands of ants were running under her skin. It was too hot and at the same time freezing cold. The blanket was too heavy and so she threw it from her body, down on the stone. Panting, she sat up, her arms clawing around her body, burying deep into the skin of her sides. Her nails dug into her flesh; the ache distracted her. A violent shiver vibrated through her torso and another pained wail escaped her. Thick drops fell from her chin in her lap, leaving dark spots on her nightgown. Her stomach cramped. Gods dammit, she hadn't even fallen asleep and yet the horrible memories had haunted her. It was a strange sensation, as soon as she closed her eyes and silence settled around her, her mind revved up and trapped her. Every evening she tried to think of pleasant things, the sound of the sea, an evening in a tavern by Canmal's side. But soon her thoughts drifted off and began to spiral in the darkness, clinging to the pain of the past. Again and again, she relived the worst experiences of her life and tonight it had once again been her confrontation in the abandoned house in Windhelm. It's over, she whispered, her voice trembling. It will never happen again. It's all over. She repeated her mantra over and over until her breathing gradually stabilised. But the fear remained and gripped her neck, her skin burned and her throat was dry as Solstheim’s ashy dust. Her thighs trembled and she realised that she would not be able to rest tonight. At least not on her own.

Want more? Here we go:

#tesblr #the elder scrolls #elder scrolls #fanfiction #ao3 writer #skyrim fanfiction #ao3 #dealings with daedra #my writing

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ristoranteivorykeys · 3 years ago

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your kisses with him 2 – headcanon

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭: more kisses ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ft. scarabia, pomefiore, ignihyde, and diasomnia

╰┈➤ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: finally reposting this because tumblr fixed the glitch with my blog =_= so anyway, belated happy twst anniversary everyone!! i want to say thank you for all the notes and comments on the first part to this set of hcs!! i didn’t think that it would get that popular to be honest!! i hope you enjoy this second part awawawa!! ╰┈➤ 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨: part 1

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐀𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦

It doesn’t matter if the sun glows golden or the rain comes pouring. He’ll hold your hands, all suns and smiles, before drawing close to you.

One. Two.

One, two, three.

His little pecks dance on your cheek, like little feet prancing on a stage. His laughter and yours do blend together, a harmony of happiness filling the hall. Then once he’s done with his solo dance, his lips take yours in a tango for two.

His kiss is no dive to the deep, but legs in shallow waters. It’s quick, it’s fleeting, it’s careless. But you taste his summer. The sun during twilight, the oasis in the desert. In his lips lays a promise. Of wealth and health, of song and dance, of now and forever. But all these he can grant but forever, for oases dry up and suns set.

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

High and bright, the moon shines its light. He steals a glance, then he glares at it.

His kiss is deep and rough tonight. His hands are tight around your waist. He’s taking your breath, every minute, every second, like he’s tired from the day.

And truly, he is tired, oh so tired from the day because once again, the moon can’t shine on its own, and it can only shine because of the sun, and it can never outshine the sun.

He thought his days of stealing were over, but it seems, as he holds you in his hands, that they aren’t over.

For as long as he serves the sun, his time is spent. For as long as his time is spent, his freedom fades from his grasp. For as long as his freedom fades from his grasp, he’ll struggle to steal a second. For as long as he struggles to steal a second, he’ll steals another. For as long as he’ll steals another, he’ll gain some freedom. For as long as he’ll gain some freedom, he can kiss you for a second longer.

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

You used to think that his kisses would taste of poison.

His lips would sting and tingle your skin with pleasure and pain, and you would cry as you hold him close. Intoxicating, addicting, invigorating. The comments would say as they wonder again the magic his kiss holds. Intoxicating, addicting, invigorating. Your mind would repeat in agreement with them.

Yet you were wrong.

Everyone was wrong.

Ah, he yelps after a kiss on your forehead. There’s a new sensation on your skin, and you could only guess what it is as you check the mirror. And the perfectly shaped pink lipstick mark provokes the laugh out of you, and he follows suit. I’m sorry, he’ll say before wiping it off, but why say sorry for a tiny mistake and a mirthful laugh? Why say sorry for the smile and the song flittering on his lips?

For it is in little moments like these, where perfection isn’t in grasp, doesn’t need to be grasped, that he is at his most beautiful, that he is at his most honest, that he is at his happiest. There are no lies nor hearts of pigs in treasure chests. There is only you and him, living a life that wishing wells could never grant.

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

His kiss gives taste to the concept of betrayal.

It’s pleasant, it’s perfect, it’s precise. He knows what motions make you shudder, he knows how to make you moan. Every inch of your mouth has been memorized, and every movement has its intent.

He touches your skin like he touches his bow. A brush of his fingers, and you quiver in his hold. Being wanted, being loved, the desires burn on your skin. And with every touch, those flames are ignited.

But when he pulls apart, when the space between you grows, you still can’t read the mysteries in his eyes. He knows you, but you don’t. He memorizes your wants, but you don’t know his. And even when you ask, he speaks in similes and synecdoches. And when he leaves, you can’t tell if he’s saying a truth or a lie.

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

When he grows closer to you, there is no cupping your cheek or leaning slowly to your lips, nor is there light raindrops or soft thunder. Instead, there is a sharp pain on your forehead and a seething sound from his lips. He leaned too fast and hit too hard.

Again, he says.

This time, he cups your face and leans more slowly, but before your lips, your noses touch. You part again, escaping more pain.

Again, he says, but now, he’s more annoyed.

He holds your face, but before he starts, his eyes clear up. Like the rising sun that peeks out of mountaintops, he understands now what to do.

So he cups your cheek and gazes at you. There’s still no rain or thunder, but his eyes are the skies you need. He leans towards you, slowly but surely, and finally, his lips touch yours, filling your mouth with the taste of apples.

𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝

His screens will say that people see fireworks when they kiss. His mangas would show their characters melting from a first kiss. He knows this pattern, he’s seen these tropes.

And that is exactly why, as you lean towards him, he pushes you away.

P-please leave now.

He stammers his words out like how Tantalus reaches for food. He feels its return, the ink coursing through him. A blessing from the gods, a curse that eats him up. The poison for mages, the reason he lives.

Leave me alone, he’ll repeat once again. He can’t stand to see you, or he’ll reach for you. He can’t have you in his arms, or he’ll yearn for more. He can’t let you kiss him, or he’ll melt from joy. An antidote for the poison, an antidote that kills him.

So even if he wants you close to him, even if he yearns for your company, even if he wishes to enjoy just one kiss with you... he can never have it. So it’s better for you to run from him, and it’s better for him to let him live.

𝐎𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝

Sometimes, you see him in the halls, floating around and about. Far too big to be five, eyes too big for sixteen. Still, you can’t help but think he’s a child, so you leave a little kiss on his little forehead.

Every time you meet those eyes – too big and too yellow – you get a little bluer. Every time you touch his forehead – too hard and too perfect – you feel a bit colder inside. For every time you see him, you can’t help but feel guilty, can’t help but wonder. What if he was a human boy, who never met tragedy long ago?

Perhaps hope is a futile thing, for this is no fairytale. There’s no true love’s kiss to restore his life or a hero's journey to restore his soul. But still, you can’t help but hope and hope, that a little love for this child can help him one day.

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚

He thinks it’s like magic and fighting. That when he plants his lips on yours, you’d be dazzled and flustered, smiling and giggling, asking him how does he kiss like that and where did he learn?

But as it turns out, it’s nothing like magic and fighting. For you’re pulling away, flustered but miffed, smiling but not, asking him to be gentler on the lips, cooler to the tongue. It surprises him, really, for power is elegance, strength is beauty, as his teachers say.

But if your words will better the experience, then he shall do as you say.

So he kisses you again, but without the dominance or the flame. There is no pushing or shoving, yet you’re humming in delight. And perhaps not everything needs strength to be beautiful nor power to be elegant. For as long as you’re happy, that to him is beautiful already.

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

You’re unsure of the hows and the whys, but he tastes like different places all at once.

The spices of the Scalding Sands settle in your tongue. His breath has the telltale signs of frozen mint. You could have sworn that you tasted the Savannah’s floral cacao and smelled the scent of tomato juice all at once. It’s wild, it’s different, and yet, he knows what pleases you. Even a slight tilt of the head adds magic to the kiss you share.

And yet, you feel a subtle wavering of his lips on yours. Like he wants to pull away, but he’s too drawn in. Like he has his doubts, but he wants to please you. It’s here that you remember that the lips on yours are not youthful. They’ve tasted different dishes, different times, different people. What has his long years done to his soul, you briefly wonder.

But as if he sensed your thoughts, he bites your lip. A mixture of pain and pleasure into this pot of sensations that brushes all other thoughts. A depth to the taste of his kiss that leaves you wanting for more.

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫

Every time you kiss, he’s afraid to open his eyes.

He hates this sleeping curse that he carries all his life, for it not only serves as an inconvenience, but he can no longer tell what is real or not. Sometimes, he sees the lightning crash, the fires of hell, the towering thorns. He’d hear the screams of his father, the shouts of a friend, the roar of a dragon. He’d wake up to peace, but sometimes, he wonders if peace was the dream while the chaos was real.

So when you plant your lips on his, he prays to someone that it’s real. When you hum from contentment and delight, he hopes that it’s no illusion. Because the thing that he fears the most is waking up to what could be a horrible truth that he’s living a dream where family won’t separate and you love him, only to awaken to see that his family is divided and you’re not there.

So please tell him that you’re real, that this kiss is real, that your love is real. Even if he should fall to a deep sleep, let him wake up to the reality that you’re there for him.

𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐙𝐢𝐠𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭

Power is elegance, strength is beauty. Whatever words come out of his Master’s mouth, he takes every single syllable into heart. So when he’s alone with you, he’s rushing in, ready to show his power through his mouth.

It makes him panic as you’re reeling from pain. That’s not what the Master would do, that’s not a proper kiss! He’d come right back, determined to do it correctly, but you stop him before another collision.

That’s not how it’s done, it’s supposed to be gentle, you say. And he’ll doubt and argue with you, but if he wants a kiss, then he has to stay silent.

So with a daintiness of a rose, you cup his cheek and lean to his lips. He’s surprised at the gentleness of it all. This isn’t power or strength, this isn’t what his Master taught! He almost protests, but he couldn’t do so. It’s cozy like a campfire, comforting like soft thunder, it’s a kiss that melts the fieriest of beasts. And his shoulders relax, and he holds your face, relishing in this kiss you share.

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littlesniggy · 3 years ago

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can i have a shanks x male reader and it’s nsfw headcanons make it pure filth !!!!

Hey Anon! Thank you so much for the request! I love this man and I could've gone on and on and on but maybe next time. Hope you enjoy it!

Warning: 18+, nsfw

Pairing: Shanks x male! reader headcanons

Shanks

Well, we all know that Shanks is not a prude. He is a man with many facets in every aspect of his life so it’s no wonder that he’s had his fair share of sexual encounters in the bedroom. He knows what he wants and he will voice it if he wants to try something. So, be prepared when he suddenly comes around with something ‘wild’.

He loves it when his partner is as open about sex as he is; it makes things easier for the both of you, really. He won’t try and force you to do anything you don’t want to but he will at least encourage you to consider it at least. If you are mid-way through with something and you realize that you’re not really into it he’s not mad at you; he will be a little pissed, however, if you don’t voice it. He hates nothing more than someone who just goes along with whatever he suggests even if they don’t like it. It’s exhausting. Now, that this is out of the way, let’s get to the sexy part.

He is a sucker for giving blowjobs, literally. He loves it so much to feel you twitch in his mouth, the way he can drive you crazy just with his tongue and oh boy, is this man talented. The way his slick muscle can move up and down your length, how it twirls around your mushroom head, the way the tip of his tongue teases your slit – it’s mind-blowing. And he hasn’t even wrapped his sinful lips around you yet either!

When he starts to suck you off, you will get the feeling like he is trying to suck every drop out of you, to suck you completely dry. You always thought that deep-throating would be the ultimate blow-job experience but he doesn’t even need to do this to drive you to insanity. He only needs the first few inches and you’re already melting under his touch.

As much as he loves giving oral, he also loves receiving it. He likes to sit on the edge of the bed, upper body slightly bent down to have a better look at your face and his arm casually resting on his muscular thigh. From time to time he likes to brush his finger against your cheek, especially when his dick is bulging in your mouth, when he can feel his dick under your skin.

He also loves the little noises you make when you take him in a little too deep. He always tells you that you don’t have to take him in so deep but honestly, this man loves it to no end. And he really appreciates it that you always try so hard to please him, to return the favor he usually gives you by blowing you. When there are tears gathering in your eyes he has to hold back a groan. It’s just so erotic!

When it comes to positions, he has some go-tos but he’s flexible. He likes to just lay on his back, his arm under his head and just watch you move up and down his dick, your length joyfully moving along, pre-cum already coating your tip. He knows you want him to touch you but this man doesn’t do it until the very end. This way, he prolongs your orgasm as much as possible. The first time you two slept together you almost came instantly when he started rubbing your dick in his hand, so he wants to avoid this.

Another position he likes is you lying flat on your stomach, legs slightly spread and his form covering you completely while his dick is buried deep inside your tight ass, his hot breath tingling your neck. This is when he starts to whisper dirty little things into your ear, mostly somewhat embarrassing like “oh, look at you. Always miming the strong man but deep down you like to be taken like a bitch, isn’t that right?” or “So tight. Are you trying to crush my dick?”. This man is a dirty talk master. Even if you’re not that into it, he can’t help it. It just comes out of his mouth.

He is also a sucker for cockwarming. When he holds you in place with his hand while you ride him, making you squirm, desperately wanting to either move yourself of beg him to please move. The way you spasm around him the longer this goes on – it’s the best. When he’s feeling particularly teasing he will slowly start rubbing your dick, maybe squeeze it form time to time or just let his palm rub your tip – believe me, you will love and hate it at the same time.

#one piece #op #shanks #ns.fw #op headcanons #shanks headcanons #male reader #shanks x male reader #Akagami no shanks #headcanons #op x male reader #op x reader #x reader #x male reader #blow.job

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writing-wh0re · 3 years ago

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It’s friday!! My friend and i were having this conversation regarding the twins hahaha she isnt into but she provides me with scenarios 😭❤️

Mika.. this is an amazing idea oh my.

Headcanon time!! SMUT18+

Okay so,

You would of been alone in your dorm, reading when the twins burst through the door.

"We need to test something" they would say in unison, George would lock the door quickly mumbling a silencing spell.

"That can't be good.."

Your body would fill with nerves, never knowing what the twins could be up to.

"We need to fuck you"

"Figure out who is better."

Your mind would go cloudy.

Your mouth would dry.

And arousal would rush through you, pooling between your thighs.

You wouldn't trust your voice, simply nodding which causes the twins to smirk.

They would look at each other, trying to decide who gets you first.

You didn’t have a preference of which twin, just one of them to slip between your thighs.

Fred would step closer to you, his eyes wandering over you.

George would kneel on the floor beside the bed, his hands brushing stray hair out of your face.

“Be a good girl for Freddie.”

George’s lips would softly kiss the side of your head, your eyes locking together.

“Don’t look at him, look at me.”

Fred would palce his finger under your chin, making you look at him.

“Now, be my good girl.”

His lips would lock onto yours before you had time to comprehend his words.

The kiss would be needy and passionate.

Fighting each other’s tongues for dominance.

Fred’s hands would be all over your body, pulling each piece of clothing from you.

Fred would break the kiss to admire your body, looking over at his brother with a proud smirk.

“Gorgeous isn’t she Georgie.”

Your eyes would flick to George, his bottom lip between his teeth, puplis blown, simply nodding his head in response.

But good god, the sex.

It would be rough but slow.

Fred wants you to feel every inch of his cock.

He would encourage you to be loud for him.

God he would taunt George with your moans.

“Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You’re mine aren’t you baby?”

“Look at George when you cum.”

Fred’s words would cause tingles to cover your body, your head to fall fuzzy.

Fred would rub fast circles on your clit, feeling you cum around his cock.

Chanting his name loud, causing George to groan.

You wouldn’t have time to recover before George took over.

Your cum soaked pussy throbbing with sensitivity.

Kissing your breasts, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“You’re mine Y/n, time to let Fred know who you truly belong to.”

George would definately fuck you fast.

He’d forget about Fred being in the room, only focused on the sweet sounds you’re making for him.

“George, please, I’m close.”

George would cover your body with his, allowing for you to wrap your legs around him, needing him deeper to reach your release.

His lips would capture yours, his hand around your throat as you tremble under him.

Your high rocking through your body.

Your pussy sensitive once again.

“We aren’t finished darling.”

Fred would cradle your head, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip as you softly nod, answering his slient question.

You would take Fred in your mouth, gagging and moaning around his cock.

George’s head buried between your thighs, sucking your clit, fingers massaging your slick walls.

Halfway through they would swap.

Tears covering your cheeks, you jaw growing sore.

Your legs shaking with every nudge of your clit.

The over stimuation burning the coil inside of you.

“So, darling.” Fred would start.

“Who is better?” George would finish.

Your chest would rise and fall, your mind filling with the recent activities, your pussy clenching around nothing at the thought.

“I cannot decide.”

The smirk the twins would share would cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“Guess we continue to until you can.”

“But rest baby, you’ll need it.”

Hehe, hope you enjoyed this Mika x

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siriusmydeer · 4 years ago

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can you please do headcanons for young sirius black x reader fic where reader has really bad anixety attacks where sometimes she feels nauseous

breathe with me

sirius black x gender neutral!reader

summary: sirius helps you through an anxiety attack.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: MENTIONS OF VOMITING!!, mentions of gagging, anxiety/anxiety attack, over stress, mentions of digging nails into your palms (borderline indications), mentions of failing school/exams, migraines, mentions of pain killers, mentions of feeling gross, possible insecurity, sirius comforting reader

a/n: so i turned this into a fic rather than hc’s because i felt like i could portray it better through a fic. also dedicated to isa ( @acosmis-t ) my love bc i cant write so thank u baby for helping me !

“Argh.” You piercingly groaned with a hand lowered to your febrile forehead, a feverish burn arising to the skin. The day had steadily been cut close to the final bell. Your Transfiguration exam had finally been completed and not without weary, of course. The prior nights you had been found asleep with drool pooling down your tear-tainted cheek and your talons promptly sunken into your palms as a desperate endeavour to relieve your stress. (Although it had not been the best choice, and at some points rather painful)

The piling books glared fiercely at you in the library till Madam Pince undoubtedly had to beckon you away, so you could sufficiently rest. Indeed then, your unconscious mind was piled in dreadful dreams (More-so nightmares) regarding critical failure and your pleaded requests to Mcgonagall, so you could re-attempt your failed exams.

Your polished nails had been essentially glued to your pearly teeth, chomping at the rarebit till there was nothing left to bite. The strums of your heart steadily increased as the last final students had cautiously worked on their assessments. You had patiently waited, subtly noticing your brawny throat becoming excessively dry as well as well as your diaphragm contracting by the minor second, an indistinguishable bile substance threatening to overtake the taste buds on your parched tongue.

A small, minuscule tap in the nape of your skull had increased to small needles swimming around your brain while the time ticked.

Sirius had been sitting in Charms flipping away at ‘Quidditch Through the Ages’ anxiously as he had to withhold himself from darting nervously out of his class and inquire how you were feeling with a knowing sense of how the rest of the day would take place. He had been made quite aware of your particular issue in the Third Year when you had disgorged your lunch, Shepherd's Pie that you had previously eaten had been hurled onto his Oxford’s his noble family spent a pretty penny to purchase.

At McGonagall's constructive dismissal, you had collected your materials and begun to walk cautiously through the corridors with your books clutched eagerly to your chest.

A slight increase in your breaths began to inflate your lungs and the steadily increasing heart strums became an overwhelming palpitation deafening your ears. Your heart had battered in your chest; nearing closer, and closer to your dormitory. Your hands had begun to develop a slight tremor at the anxious vibrations poisoning your blood, whilst your vision began to mildly obscure. You needed a moment to recollect yourself, a minute to breathe.

You had murmured a small, ‘Fairy Lights’ to the portrait before trudging up the stairs and colliding into the dormitory. The hinges had creaked whilst you abruptly had shut the door, luckily nobody was present to allegedly witness your exertion. Your bedroom had frequently remained tidy, a typical symptom of your anxiety that had obsessively pursued you to attempt your very hardest, even better than your very hardest, at everything and anything.

You had stood center in your room venturing for the hostile seizing in your bones to cease for at least a moment. Your chest had felt tight, like a tensed muscle that had been pulled after an unusually hard sport.

You had walked toward your window and back Window, and back. Window, and back. Again, Again and Again.

Your nails are placed between the mild edges of your teeth. The cavern of your mouth almost feeling obstructed by the bile mingling around with your parched throat. At the incessant pacing of your feet, there had been a remaining thud in your thick skull adding to your misery.

The small gust of wind was the singular audible sound in the dormitory as one of your dorm mates had abandoned it open. Your brain had felt like it swelled beyond generating capacity now your mild dehydration was too obvious to ignore like you had planned to do. You had deliberated with your eyes closed and your face contorted into a frown, you would’ve had to trudge to the kitchens for a possible amount of comfort in your state. You had groaned again, your hand promptly placed over your face, as you traipsed across the room, attempting to comfort yourself, in a sense.

Perhaps some painkillers spewed on the bathroom counter that you had previously taken before your exam could help you. Your neck had begun to sear in heat the hair that was almost clung to your nape, you raised your heavy eyelids halfway only for them to fall shut a twinging pain beginning to naturally arise behind your optics. You huffed with a minuscule gag, too much effort it would take to stroll around the school in the huffing state you were currently in, a migraine still revelling in your mind. Maybe later, you thought with a creased brow. You had heard the hinges creak again, incorrectly assuming one of your dorm mates had been back. Except your dorm mates didn’t possess the baritone of a burly male.

“Y/n” He whispered tenderly, attempting not to disturb your pacing.

“Not now.”

He had partaken notice to your mindful scratches against your neck, continuously pulling up the hair only for it to fall once more. You had paused for a moment with a tremor in your finger that was trapped between your teeth. A familiar distortion of torture wrapping around your throat like a snake that was threatening to suffocate you; your respires heavier and more frequent. He had begun speaking, a blubber of words escaping his trachea. Yet, all jumbled like alphabet soup in your brain between his dismembered sentences.

You suspired heavily in frustration, “Just— Shut up! Please.” You begged in exasperation. Still prying your hair from your neck, you stood frozen, discontentment building in your system.

He had noticed the black hair tie absentmindedly clung to his wrist whenever you had asked for one. Steadily walking towards your paused figure he had gathered your hair in the tie, your neck feeling the refreshing air against it; a slight relief applied against your skin. You promptly initiated to remove your robe, there was a warm discerning grip on your body overheating your arms as well as your midriff due to the uniform.

With a violent tremor in your fingers, you started grasping at the buttons, a mild frustration initiating at the fact you couldn’t pop them open due to the recurrent quiver in your digits. Sirius had removed your hands from your robe, hastily unbuttoning it before you hurled it aside.

“How 'bout we go to the bathroom, Hmm?” He cooed while beckoning you into the bathroom, noticing the tremor in your body as well as your fidgeting fingers that were twiddling between each other. He had turned the sink on, switching the handle left where a blue spot differentiated the colours. Delicately, he grasped your trembling wrists and ran them beneath the cooling water. “Just… Feel gross.”You murmured to yourself as he ran a few fingers under the downpour, placing his frigid fingers behind your neck.

Your shoulders faintly shrugged at the sensation while he turned off the water and let your hands air dry, helping you not feel solidified by anything. During his movement, you had grasped onto his fingers where a few heirloom rings had fit snugly on his fingers, “Tell me about them.” This was a technique he had created in an effort of distraction at the uprising feelings of disgust for yourself bound to erupt at any moment.

“There’s a B, I guess. Erm, engraving, swirls and stuff…” You trailed off while attempting to decipher the designs in the ring that was on his forefinger.“S’too much! Just wanna— Dunno, not feel like this anymore!”

He had partaken scrutiny to your physical tics as well as your body language, with a faint clutch on two of your fingers he had hauled you to the very center of your dormitory. Within a few inches of each other, he had mauled your hand over his sternum. You felt the heavy respires in his chest as well as the vibrations melding with your palm as he spoke, “Breathe with me.”

You had stood there, minutes, maybe almost an hour, time was now pushed to the very nooks and crannies of your mind. The surges of perturbation still prominently surging through your veins to the density of your bones, the recurrent tremble still foremost notable but the buckling of your knees had calmed down as well as the faint chatter of your teeth. Still copying his sluggish breathing, you looked deep into his pear irises, his optics having a settling effect, a tingling reassurance reflecting in them. In the sunlight state that had remained in your room due to the unclosed curtains, there had been cerulean hues caught in that state.

Sirius’ eyes had been crafted like delicate feathers that were used for quills, not the albino kind of dove feathers, but the ones with a hue so softly grey that they could have been pencil-drawn rather than used by a quill with smeared stygian ink. They had that look of birds flying on sunlit days, the shine and quick movement, yet relaxed, purposeful, at ease.

“Can we sit?” You questioned quietly after removing your hand from his chest, hesitantly grabbing onto two of his fingers as he had previously done with you. “Anything you want.” He replied in a murmur, craning his head left, then right, trying to figure out where to beckon you into a seated position.

You had sat upon the wooden floor. The flooring designs similar to a chorus of browns; they sang together, an acapella of baritone hues that rose into vibrant soprano notes. It was a fitting place for a dormitory where laughter could normally be discerned, a place for those new sounds to soak right in and join the spirit that was already there when you had first entered the dormitory your first year.

“Here?”

“Mhm.” You nodded your head scarcely as he sat next to you. You sighed for a moment, placing a minimal amount of your temple against his shoulder, feeling the similar respires soothe you. “Here.”

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koos-euphoria · 4 years ago

Note

what do u think making out with skz is like🥺? like fluff and also nsfw 😳

stray kids/reader | smut | 18+ | headcanon

wordcount: 2K

warnings: making out, dry humping, spanking, hair pulling, teasing, degradation.

notes: there is also sfw, soft versions for the ones who don’t like smut!!<3

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍ.ʟɪsᴛ | sᴋᴢ ᴍ.ʟɪsᴛ

Bang Chan:

SFW

soft and gentle kisser.

The rough pad of his thumb strokes your cheek with his thumb as your lips touch. His other other hand is placed around the back of your neck gently but secure.

Giggling against, he starts to get shy within the kiss, as his heart pounds inside his chest.

Pulling away, his ears turn red as he continues to giggle, before placing a soft peck on your temple.

He’s just really really soft and careful, the best boy🥺

NSFW

He’d be the complete opposite. Rough and dominant kisser.

Both of you sat next to one another he moves his face closer.

His hand grips onto your chin, keeping you where he wants you.

His tongue licks along your bottom lip, before slipping past them, the wet muscle exploring your mouth.

A moan leaves your throat as he swallows it down.

His free hand grips onto the soft flesh of the back of your thighs, pulling you up to straddle him. Sliding his fingers up by the fingertip, tickling you, he stops at your hips, encouraging you to grind on his lap.

Lee Minho:

SFW

A playful but slightly shy and soft kisser.

You’re both chilling on your bed cuddling, your head on his chest as his fingers gently play with your hair.

The movie you were watching plays a romantic kissing scene, and it makes you blush at the lovey dovey gooeyness of it.

Looking up at Minho, unable to hide the fact you’re staring at his pretty pink lips. Of course he notices as his lips pull into a smirk.

“Want a kiss baby? Hm” he whispers as he squishes your cheek. You whine, pushing his hand away and Minho laughs lightly. Placing a hand under your chin his own cheeks heat up, and you smile softly at the sight of him getting shy himself.

Leaning down he gently places his lips on yours as his eyes flutter shut.

Wrapping both arms around you he pulls you closer before breaking the kiss, rubbing the tip of your noses together.

NSFW

Playful for sure teases you a lot. A rough and possessive kisser.

Minho hovers over your frame, movie long forgotten about, as filthy words spill from his kiss swollen mouth.

“Hm, more kisses? You should beg first little kitten. Sound so pretty when you beg for me.” His hand takes both of your wrists in his palm, forcing you to arch your back pushing your chest into his as he holds them behind your back, then forcing a leg between your thighs.

“P-please Minho, want more.” You beg. And he chuckles. “My little kitty, is so cute.” He whispers before his lips are back onto yours. The kiss filled with tongue and teeth as he claims you.

You both groan as you begin to erratically grind on his thigh.

Seo Changbin:

SFW

So mfing shy, definitely a shy kisser.

Changbin looks at his shoes, unable to look you in the eyes after your first date. His cheeks dusted with a slight pink tint.

He shuffles from foot to foot as you both stand outside your front door. “Well goodnight y/n, I’ll text you.” Changbin says gently, and you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his sudden change, used to the out going loud changbin.

Stepping forward you slide your palms up his chest until you reach his neck. The movement making him finically look up and into your eyes.

His own sparkle as you smile at him. Leaning forward you brush your lips again this, waiting for him to close the gap, and he does.

Pushing his lips against yours gently, giggling as he begins to smile, because his hearts fluttering like crazy🥺

NSFW

Far from shy, a messy kisser.

Taking him into your house after the sweet kiss began to escalate, unable to keep your hands of one another, he pushes you against the front door as soon as it’s closed.

His eyes find yours, his pupils expanded as you almost drown in them, before his lips touch yours quickly.

Pulling away he takes the plump flesh of your bottom lip, playfully biting it, making you moan. His lips twitch as he smirks at you.

His hands move from your hips up to your breast cupping them in his palms he punches your nipple trough the Material of your thin top.

“No bra, dirty girl.” He groans, placing his mouth on your neck, licking and sucking purple hickeys, as he continues to play with your breasts.

Hwang Hyunjin:

SFW

A passionate and romantic kisser.

Hyunjin gently slides his hand on your cheek, while the other around your waist, pulling you closer under his chest touching.

You both begin to soak as the rain continues to pour down on you both. Smiling gently he leans down to place a light peck on your pink lips.

He giggles softly as he hears you gasp, Leaning back down he kisses you more deeply, just soft plump lips working against your own.

Pulling away, you both pant heavily, looking at one another as you both become shy, Hyunjin giggles gently as he ticks your wet hair behind your ear.

Taking advantage of the sweet moment, his hand that’s wrapped around you moves to tickle you, making you laugh with him.

NSFW

Still very passionate but is more rougher.

Laying in the back seat of Hyunjin’s car, with his palm on your face, thumb slightly under chin as he holds it in place.

Your mouths pressed together, as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, tongue dominating your own. His other hand is on your ass, playfully squeezing and spanking the flesh.

Your legs wraps around his torso as he grinds his clothed cock against your pussy, underwear sticking to your folds.

Little whimpers and moans escape from you as he swallows them down.

Your hands buried in his hair as you pull on the roots making hyunjin pull away with a groan. “You look so fucked out, baby, and all we’ve done is kiss.”

Han Jisung:

SFW

Man would be so flirty before the kiss, a secretly shy kisser.

“mm, baby, I know you wanna kiss me.” Jisung teases, his breath fanning over your face as your cheeks heat up.

Pushing a stray stand of hair out of your face, he giggles. “C’mon all you have to do is ask baby.” He tease further, and you whine slightly, before squeaking out a small. “Please.”

That was all it took for Jisung to blush himself, hoping you don’t notice as he places his lips gently against yours.

He can’t hold the small giggle as he feels you hands shakily reach up and into his hair. Pulling away, his fingers press against his now red lips, the flesh tingling slightly from the kiss.

“Wow.” He whispers, his eyes wide and sparkling. It’s your turn to giggle as you can’t help but find him adorable.

he’s just so soft🥺

NSFW

Still is very flirty, but of course also very filthy.

Hearing you giggle at him, making him pause. Almost like a switch his face becomes more darker.

His hand slides up to your neck, his hand laying the, not squeezing but that feeling of it placed there is enough to have your giggling stop and your body squirming slightly.

Your lips part, as your pupils expand. “Oh, you like that? What if I squeeze slightly?” He teases, his fingers tighten around your neck and you whine, hips moving on their own, grinding against Jisung’s crotch.

“P-please.” You whimper. Tongue coming out to wet your lips, and Jisung smirks. “Please what? Does my baby want another kiss?” Where?” He asks, his free hand moving to your lips running the tip of his finger along it.

“Here?” He questions, but before you could answer you moves his fingers away, placing them under you skirt and on your cunt.

His finger tip running up and down your slit, making you moan. “Or here.”

Lee Felix:

SFW

oh this boy is not shy when it comes to this, he will just kiss you outta no where. A confident kisser.

You were In the middle of baking together, but Felix couldn’t help it, he thought you were adorable with your tongue sticking slightly out in concentration as you measure out the sugar.

Forgetting - or actually not caring about the flower that’s on his hands as he places his palms on your cheeks, as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss, turning his head slightly making it slightly deeper.

You hum, and he pulls away your hand coming up on its own accord as you touch your lips, panting with wide eyes as you look at him in awe.

Felix couldn’t hold In his coo, heart stuttering in his chest as he thinks you’re the cutest.

“You’re cute, even with flower all over you.” He giggles as he grabs onto your waist pulling you into him.

NSFW

Still a very bold and confident kisser.

You both ended up forgetting about the baking altogether as Felix pins you between him and the counter.

His lips never breaking away from yours as his tongue explores your mouth. Your hand grip his shirt, making creases in it as he dominates you.

Whining into his mouth as one of his hands move under your shirt, pulling up your bra as he plays with you breast.

While the other pushing under the waistband on you underwear, waiting no time as he plays with you cunt.

Loving the way you melt like putty in his palms.

Kim seungmin:

SFW

He’s a mix of bold and shy

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. There was something about the way you talk so passionately that just makes him want to kiss you.

Not being bold enough to just do it he, speaks over you, stopping you in the middle of your sentence as he burst out, “can I kiss you?”

Surprised you pause for a second letting the question sink in before nodding your head. And seungmin smiles, before he pulled you in for a kiss.

Internally - inside his head; he air punches, living for the feeling of you melting into him.

NSFW

Very bold, rough and messy kisser.

Pulling away his eyes are a lot darker, emotions swirling within them as they pin you in place.

Seungmin doesn’t ask this time, as he pulls you into him again, placing his mouth on your own. He begins Whispering naughty stuff onto your lips, while he continues to kiss you.

“I bet your little cunt is soaked right now, hm.” Unable to hold the smirk, on his at the way you shiver at his words.

His fingers trail up your bare thighs and under your skirt reaching until he reaches your bare cunt.

Hissing through his teeth he curses. “No panties? Dirty little slut.”

Yang Jeongin:

SFW

Shy gentle baby who still can’t help but tease you.

A mix of feelings run through Jeongin as he prepares himself to kiss you.

“I’m not sure you want this kiss, huh?” He asks a small smile playing on his lips as you desperately ask again, for the fifth time, “please, kiss me.”

He stares at your pretty pink lips, unable to look at you in the eyes before he finally places his lips on yours.

His fingers come up to you hair as he plays with the soft strands, as a distraction, because of his stupid heart flutters.

Pulling away he couldn’t hold back the little giggle, feeling as if he’s on cloud 9.

NSFW

Rough but a tease.

Leaning in again, he lets his eyes flutter shut as he feels you melt into him.

A small whimper falls from you, and the noise goes straight to Jeongin’s cock. The muscle twitching as he aims to hear that noice again.

His ones soft grip turns more rougher as he takes your hair between his fingers, lightly tugging at the roots as he kisses you more deeply, tongue pushing into your mouth.

And you moan into his mouth cussing Jeongin to groan deeply.

His hips move on their own as he grinds his hard cock against your hip driving you wild.

#stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids headcanons #chan smut #chan imagine #lee know smut #lee know imagine #changbin smut #changbin imagine #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagine #jisung smut #jisung imagjne #lee Felix smut #lee felix imagine #seungmin smut #seungmin imagjne #jeongin smut #jeongin imagine

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imo-chan-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

『 Their best sexual characteristic | Haikyuu!! Headcanons 』

Part 5/?

Characters: female!reader, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Sakusa Kiyoomi

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), 18+, explicit descriptions of sex, headcanons, imagines

Attention: All characters in this series are aged up to be at least 18+

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: These headcanons really are getting longer each time 😫 But I had a surprising amount of fun writing these ones. Hope you can tell that by reading them! Previous parts are linked at the bottom of the post. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy! ♡

Miya Atsumu

» His dirty talk

First off: that voice. I think y'all know what I'm talking about literally orgasmic

It's so deep, and smooth, and relaxing in a way that just gets you going. There's just something about it that makes you rub your thighs together if ya get me

And when he presses his lips close to your ear, his voice feels like he's caressing you all over yes all over

You basically get high off his voice. Cloud nine ☁️😍

He absolutely loves to talk dirty to you, telling you exactly what he's going to do to you, how pretty you look with your mouth around his cock, or how you're taking him inside you so well hnng

He's got a knack for choosing exactly the right words, and it gets your pussy dripping and aching for him

He always says about how your pussy feels like it was made for his cock

It fits so snug. Loose enough that he can fuck you whenever, but tight enough that he has to work for it

Astumu really loves teasing you – taking his time and priming you with his dirty talk, experimenting with just how close to the edge he can get you when he's hardly even touching you confident little shit, I love him

And it's pretty close

He's exactly the kind of guy to take over an hour making you desperate and horny for him, enjoying the view of your sensitive body squirming beneath him, craving some kind of release

Seeing you like that for him, all just with his words and the occasional well placed hands, boosts his ego to no end as well as making him literally rock hard, aye papi

And the sounds you make when you're a hot, horny mess~

Lord, he wants to record them on his phone and play them back full volume when he jacks off

Honestly, he just wants to record you in general. Take a video of you mewling for him. Maybe snap a pic from above of you with your top pulled up over your tits, nipples hard, thighs pressing together, and with the most desperate look on your face so he has it...you know...for later...

But he'd never actually do any of that without your consent, just to be clear

He'll do this until all you want – all your can think about – is having his cock inside you

And he can be ever so slightly mean and make you beg for it, with that cocky, lidded gaze and a faint smirk again – the little shit. But I love him

"What is it that you want, babygirl? I need to hear you say it. Don't be shy. Use those big words of yours."

But he'd never be so mean as to deny giving it to you. He always planned on fucking you until you can't walk please, oml

Besides, while he's been getting you all riled up, he's been getting just as flustered and desperate. He can just hide it pretty well because he relishes the process

And it's not all just talk, either. Astumu really delivers prime dick 🙌 let me tell you

But the dirty talk doesn't stop there

He uses that voice of his and those delicious words to drive you closer to your climax, his words getting cruder as his hips get sloppier, praising you to no end

He's not shy about what he thinks. He's incredibly straightforward about it

You're making him fucking horny? He'll tell you. Your pussy is the best he's ever fucked? He'll tell you flat out while he's pounding into you. He thinks you look beautiful stuffed with his cock? He won't even hesitate

Communication is key, ya know?

Astumu is a great sexter, too. He has you rushing home on a regular basis to get dicked down omw, lol

And he can't resist whispering dirty nothings in your ear in public, watching you twitch as you get flustered and needy he thinks it's really fucking adorable

The hottest shit since fire was discovered

But underneath that confident, teasing exterior, he's actually super soft for you

You mean the world to him, and his dirty talk is just a declaration of it. His little way of saying 'I love you'

And he's just as whipped for you and your pussy as you are for him and his cock

Awwww. Guys, true love is real 🥺

Miya Osamu

» He loves mutual masturbation

Is it a kink? A fetish? Yeah, pretty much

There's just something really fucking hot to Osamu about getting each other off/getting off in front of each each other

Like, stroke his cock while he's fingering you, and he's cumming in 2 minutes tops

Does it fully replace regular sex?

Nah. Osamu is still down to jump your bones, like, 80-90% of the time lmfao

But he's a pretty practical guy, you know?

He knows that people don't always have the time or the energy, or sometimes even the enthusiasm, to go ~all the way~ every single time

Even for a quickie which he is a fan of, tbh

So he sees mutual masturbation as a great alternative

You both get what you want, you get to do it together, and it really, really turns him on win-win, tbh

Plus, this way, he generally gets a better look at you while you two are going at it he loves a good view

He's a ~connoisseur~ if you will

Osamu is also really into thigh riding and dry humping not just for practicality, either

It's not uncommon for you to crawl onto his lap or thigh when he's busy at home and you're feeling needy, and slowly start grinding on him to get his attention

He might try and ignore you at first, play a little game of will-he-won't-he before he stops doing to whatever it was he was doing before and gives in to you

He'll never turn you away if you're desperate enough to start riding him like that. He's like, 'Damn, she really wants me, huh? 🥵'

Even if he wasn't horny before, he sure as hell is once you start rubbing yourself against him like that

He doesn't even really understand his fascination with all this stuff himself. Like, is it the fact that you're still wearing clothes? The extra friction? The intimacy? The neediness of it? Who knows 🤷‍♀️

All Osamu knows is that it makes his dick stand up faster and straighter than a patriot hearing the national anthem, lmfao, sooo....

He tries to let you do your thing when you're grinding against him like that, but his hands normally find their way to your hips and start firmly working you down into his crotch or thigh, harder and faster

He just can't help himself. The more he gets turned on, the more is hands wander they're kind of cold and it sometimes makes you jump or shiver

If he was being entirely honest, he'd admit how much he loves the feeling of your wet pussy sliding against him, or the feeling of your juices seeping through his trouser leg, making a beautiful, glistening mess but he's rarely that honest, unlike his brother, lol

Definitely the kind of guy to casually lick his fingers after making you cum around them 👅 he may or may not kiss you directly after

His face can be a little hard to read sometimes, but he gets this particularly hungry look in his eyes whenever he's turned on that sends a tingle up your inner thighs *eyebrow wiggle*

The proximity when you're getting each other off is a big win for him – the heat, the panting, the intensity, the little or not so little sounds that escape your lips~

It's all so steamy. It really gets his blood pumping to his diCK

When he's turned on, he gets a little blush across his cheeks that spreads to the tops of his ears you love seeing it from your vantage point when you're straddling him

One thing is certain, though, and that's that he wouldn't do this kind of thing with just anyone

There's something about mutual masturbation, thigh riding, etc. that's very intimate and personal to him, and he'd only do it with someone that he really loves and, perhaps even more importantly, trusts

It's an honour, my gal 😌 He doesnt open up to just anybody 🥺

Sakusa Kiyoomi

» His cum kink

So, a 'cum kink' is pretty vague, as it can mean literally almost anything to do with cum make sure you do you research, my peeps

But Sakusa has a pretty specific cum kink, and that's that his goes inside you

Doesn't really matter if it's your mouth or your pussy I'm not going to say ass, because I feel like that's a big no-no for him

He just likes it going inside you. Swallow it, hold it in by laying on your back with your legs up – whatever. All good to him

But!

It's not a breeding kink thing. It's actually surprise, surprise because it's cleaner. Less mess

Now, Sakusa holds great pride in being able to make you cum, and duh he likes the feeling of himself cumming. He just doesn't want it getting everywhere

Cum is a nightmare to clean out of stuff!! And he wears a lot of black, so it's not a good mix!!

Legit, don't get cum stains on black clothes, guys. 100% not a good time 😭😭

The reason for it isn't the hottest or most romantic thing in the world, but like I said before:

He loves cumming inside you

Just, for the love of God, don't let it all flow back out again please. If not for his sanity, then for your own, because he will fucking go off 😭😂

Condoms are normally a must again, for hygiene reasons

Wrap that shit up, my dudes

But if you get to the stage of your relationship where you're wanting to try going raw and maybe have a baby then~

Damn, this man is going to absolutely destroy your pussy 😩

And if you happen to have a little breeding kink yourself, then you're in for a treat, my gal~

He'll definitely play it up just for you, and will not shut up about how he's going to fill you up until you're fucked out and your pussy is stuffed to the brim with his cum

When you're done, he'll literally take a firm hold your legs and keep them up in the air to stop his cum escaping *sweats in breeding kink*

Rest in pieces if you have a bad gag reflex, because Sakusa enjoys deep-throating, and literally cumming straight into your stomach lmao, and he's a big boy, so prepare yourself

Again, no clean-up = ideal

He can normally be a little rough, but he is the GOD of hate/angry/frustration sex. Like, taking out his stress and frustration in bed just makes it even better

He can be a little iffy about giving you oral or fingering you, though. 'Tis a bit messy for his tastes

He doesn't like to make you do all the work, though. It makes him feel lousy

So one time he offered to finger you while wearing a pair of those latex gloves that doctors wear lmfao, gold star for Kiyoomi. He tried 😭

And I'm not even remotely exaggerating when I say he will outright refuse to have sex with you if you have a cold

Exchange of bodily fluids when you're ill is a big NOPE did you honestly expect anything else? 😭

This isn't even about his kink anymore. Whoops 🙃

♡°☆°♡°☆°♡

Part 1: Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo

Part 2: Ushijima, Suga, Bokuto

Part 3: Iwaizumi, Akaashi, Asahi

Part 4: Kageyama, Noya, Tendou

#imo chan imagines #haikyuu!!#hq!#headcanons #imagines #smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #sakusa kiyoomi #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader

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pinkiemme · 4 years ago

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Rex x Jedi!Reader

Headcanons for a prompt on this list

English is not my first language so I’m sorry for the mistakes!!

You’re a Jedi, you usually helped Master Obi-wan with his missions, so you had met with Captain Rex a few times, since Obi-wan and Anakin fought together a lot.

He liked you. You were a rare Jedi, you didn’t like the war one bit, although one time you had joked about how without it you wouldn’t have met all the amazing clones fighting on it.

You preferred to talk things out, in a peaceful way, so you usually stayed out of battle. Instead, you made strategies, contacts and more stealthy missions. Obi-wan really liked to listen to your point of view.

That wasn’t the case with Anakin. Rex had seen you fighting fiery with his general on more than one occasion. Your voice higher and your face flushed.

You would get really red if there were more troopers around, making you give up the more clones appeared, curious about your discussions with Anakin.

He actually liked seeing you getting flustered because you wanted them to be safe, and avoid the fight. You were kinda cute. Your hands in the air and your foot tapping the floor while you talked.

One day, your eyes met his while you were in a discussion with his general. And he was sure you got even more red, biting your lip and avoiding his glance before you answered Anakin.

This time the 501st had been called to support Obi-wan on an assault from the Trade Federation to an outer rim planet. So Rex supposed he would find you there, and was actually excited about seeing you. Fives teasing him about it.

He did see you. You were in the battle field. With him. And damn, you were good with your lightsaber. It was a shiny green that made your eyes more bright if that was even possible.

The first time a droid attacked directly at you he felt his breath stop. But then you stopped the attack, igniting your saber quickly, cutting the clanker´s head off with a smooth movement. And his breath returned to him with an intense gasp. He felt his heart throbbing on his chest for a second, and he felt extremely thirsty. An almost animalistic growl leaving his lips. Kriff, watching you like this made him feel a longing for you he had never felt. He was aroused, and you looked hot fighting. Sweat shining on your skin, and your mouth parted, short of breath. He felt filthy with his eyes roaming you like that.

As he got distracted by you, a bunch of droids approached him, a Neimoidian from the Trade Federation shouting behind them and with a bizarre laugh leaving his throat. Rex whipped his head towards them and fired his blaster to the clankers, getting each one on the head with a neat shot.

But he didn’t see the Neimoidian drawing a gun on him, these despicables creatures typically stick behind and don't engage on the fight.

So when he heard the sudden gunfire next to him his body stiffened, his head looking beside him with a hurried movement.

You were holding a blaster. His eyes followed the direction of your gun to the Neimoidian’s corpse on the floor.

“You shot someone!” His voice was deep and cutting. Rex took to breathless steps towards you, your bodies almost colliding.

He could see distress in your eyes when you finally looked at him, and his muscles tensed, his mouth dry.

He clenched his jaw before talking again. “Where’s your lightsaber, Commander?” He took your hand, still holding the blaster, holding it between his own for a brief moment before taking the gun away from you.

You reached your arm to your side and your saber came flying to you. Rex understood, you hadn’t had time to get it back.

“You didn’t have to do it” He was craving to touch you, his fingers tingling with want. You had shot someone for him.

“I-“ Your voice was quivering, your eyes not leaving his. Your hand not clutching your lightsaber grabbed his upper arm. And Rex could swear he could feel the heat from your skin even though the plastoid. His skin heated behind his helmet.

With a sharp intake of air he reached his hand, the one yours was attached to his forearm, to your neck, and pushed your head towards him. Your face brushing his armour before you moved to nestle on the crook of his neck.

“Captain…” He could feel your breath drenching his blacks, where there wasn’t any armour. Your voice sending him a pleasant shiver.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He didn’t move his body, ignoring his own advice.

But you nodded against him and murmured softly before disentangling from him “I killed him.” You took a step back from him, putting some needed distance between your bodies. “For you, Rex.”

He almost whined at your words. He wanted to grab you again. He craved for you to stay flush against him. For you to spend the night with him, letting his hands roam you, comforting you.

He opened his mouth, not sure of what his next words were going to be, when a hurried Obi-wan ran towards you. “Are you okay? Are you injured? Come here.” The Master Jedi took your arm gently and took you with him, talking in a soothing voice, a tone the captain could never talk in.

“Don’t stay behind Rex! You will miss all the fun!”

And with that he returned to the fight while Obi-wan escorted you to a gunship

#captain rex x reader #rex x reader #i don’t even know if these are headcanons or not #but i feel comfortable writing like this #captain rex

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strfe · 10 months ago

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RE: IDENTITY.

after spending hours watching a video (source) @speedchasing sent me i'm going to make it everyone's problem cover a little regarding how i've always written cloud's personality and overall 'identity' from the happenings of crisis core (post-nibelheim) and note how i've always perceived it, as well as some new developments, some of which are unique to vii remake (meaning his personality will differ to an extent between his og / viir verse(s), etc).

i still believe that cloud has never really thought of himself as 'being zack'. the closest example of this being true is in the flashbacks cloud has, where he inserts himself where zack would be in reality, because zack had been the only SOLDIER present at that point in time (other than sephiroth, in most instances, and he at least knows he is not sephiroth) and it's reasonable for him to therefore have been that (other) SOLDIER, since if he knew anything of his past — it was that he was a 1st class SOLDIER. the identity that cloud takes on at the beginning of ffvii is one comprised of his memories and desires, as well as tifa, and also zack's memories. from the moment cloud regains consciousness at the end of crisis core, the jenova 'mimic' ability present within him begins to shape the personality that he will eventually take upon himself in ffvii. the idea of zack: the hero that cloud had always admired & wished to be ever since he was a child, as well as the legacy of memories that zack leaves with him upon passing the buster sword along, imprints itself onto his consciousness and begins to formulate when he meets tifa at the train station just prior to the beginning of ffvii.

the jenova cells rewrite his memories and come together to formulate the idea of all of cloud's memories (namely prior to the nibelheim incident), zack's ideals and behaviourisms, tifa's memories of him, and the dream of becoming a hero he clung to so desperately as a child (and even into adulthood).

the mimicry is intertwined with his very consciousness to project a reality to him that he wished to be true, and that protected him from the reality of zack's loss & his perception that he was a failure in every aspect of the word: he hadn't made SOLDIER / hadn't proven the kids that bullied him wrong / couldn't fulfil his promise to tifa to get her to notice him, and he was unable to do anything but watch as his closest friend (the one person who still embodied 'the hero' that he aspired to be but never was, and didn't believe he would ever become) laid down his life for him. he was 'too weak to save anyone': a sentiment sephiroth reminds him of in remake, but one he desperately tries to avoid.

something this video made me consider more-so (especially with regards to the events later in the game, then from 'on the way to a smile' onwards) is the idea that zack, aerith & sephiroth are all a fundamental part of cloud's consciousness. while zack and aerith guide him towards recovery and salvation (something it has been noted he couldn't otherwise do alone), sephiroth guides him towards destruction and embodies his pain and regret. in remake, sephiroth seems to purposefully be trying to disconnect cloud from that which makes up his consciousness, and / or become the domineering presence in his consciousness, and is shown on multiple occasions to have a stronger hold on him (cloud) than even in the original game. moments such as cloud stepping towards johnny to kill him, and not hesitating to strike down reno (even resulting in the whispers intervening) aren't entirely out of character for someone who has killed in the past, but they are moments that are definitively not present in the original game, and there is emphasis on cloud's behaviour scaring others and / or being especially violent, even for an 'ex-SOLDIER'. this is likely also due to his connection with sephiroth during remake being more prevalent. his consciousness is gravitating slightly more towards 'destruction' than it does in the og. while i can't say for certain, i do expect the disparity to grow as time passes and the story continues in remake, especially if the theory that zack has become detached from his consciousness in some way(s) is true, and increasingly more-so if sephiroth accomplishes this same feat for the other memories that shape cloud and his bond with others.

the main thing to note is: cloud in remake is not only an amalgamation of his past memories (among other things), but also of future memories that sephiroth has been feeding into his subconscious.

while this isn't a staggering change at the moment, it is a slight one, and i expect it may be key to certain elements of ffvii changing so i'm tentative to write too far into the vii:r verse outside of what story has already been revealed to us. for example, i would be reluctant to write as far as the north crater knowing that by that point in remake our expectations may have been completely subverted / characters may be acting differently or have taken different paths, etc. i think it has been long enough now to say quite confidently that vii: remake is not a remake, it is more of a convoluted sequel, and as such (while i'm happy to merge elements of remake/rebirth + with the og for fleshing out the world / its characters / character dynamics), i'd prefer not to write specifically in the remake verse too much further than is 'current'.

#❛ HEADCANON ( my fingers are tingling / my mouth is dry )#not sure why tumblr hates the indent feature but it wouldn't let me indent all my text. homophobic #anyway i have bad brainworms #if i have you in dms im sorry #this also isn't to say i Won't write remake threads outside of what we understand #just . i'm tentative to jump into it with everyone without any initial discussion #sometimes it can be fun to gauge how shit might go down even if it winds up being completely wrong / i'd just preferably like.#talk about doing that first LOL

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underfell-crystal · 4 years ago

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HAHA TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY. I'll most likely write a third one today. Make sure to check out the art I've done for this series with the hashtag #StoryGlitch: UnderFell or #SG: UF !

I do not own any of the characters other than Crys, the girl with the white hair.

~~~Chapter Two: Meeting the Boss~~~

When Crys awoke, she was immediately assaulted by the smell of mustard. She blinked blearily at her surroundings, and heard a VERY loud snore from right next to her. She jumped, then looked to the side. She was greeted with Sans' sleeping face. Or, rather, she assumed he was sleeping. He still had a grin on his face, but his eyesockets were somehow closed. Fascinated, Crys squirmed into an upright position in his arms and pressed a small hand to his cheekbone. The bone was surprisingly warm, and tingled lightly under her touch. Sans grunted and snorted again, shifting at her touch. Crys touched the bone covering his eyesockets, and one opened, revealing a red light inside it.

Sans blinked at the small human child that was inches away from his face. "Uh.... kiddo? Whatcha doing?"

Crys tapped the bone above his eyesockets. "How?"

"Huh?"

"How do your eyes close? You're just bone."

Sans chuckled, the rumble shaking Crys' entire body. "Well, babybones, I'll tell ya a secret."

Crys looked at him with large, curious eyes. Sans continued as she hung on his every word. "Now, ya can't tell anyone about this, okay? The secret is..... It's.... magic."

He winked conspirationally, grinning as Crys frowned, disappointed with his lack of explanation.

"That's not a real answer!"

"'Course it is, babybones, ya just don't like it."

Sans stretched and yawned. Immediately, Crys reached out her tiny hands and touched the edge of one of his sharp teeth.

"Ah... kid?? Wha ar ya 'oin?"

Crys was too busy poking his shark teeth to answer. His large hands carefully took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away from his mouth. Crys huffed, and Sans chuckled nervously.

"Uh... don't go around pokin' into people's mouths, okay kiddo?"

Crys nodded and sat back on Sans' 'stomach'. Sans grinned at her.

"Want some food now?"

Crys nodded eagerly, and Sans picked her up again and shuffled into the kitchen, reheating a plate with two hot dogs on it. After they were done, Sans set her on the couch and gave her the plate. Upon further inspection, Crys noted that the hot dogs had tiny cat ears and a feline face carved into it, and solemnly ate the cute little thing. She was almost done with her first hot cat when a faint shout broke the silence. Sans jumped, then swore.

"Shit! I forgot Boss' shift is over!"

Sans scooped her up, looking down at her apologetically. "Sorry kid.. I'm gonna keep ya hidden, okay? Jus' don't move around too much."

Before she could protest or question him, Sans lifted up his red sweater and dispensed Crys into the cavity beneath his ribcage and above his pelvis. A moment later, his sweater went down, leaving Crys with very little light. The shouting was quite close now, and she heard the sound of a door being slammed open, a sharp, grating voice ringing through her ears.

"Sans! Why the fuck weren't you at your post earlier?!"

Sans coughed. "Well, Boss..... I uh.... jus' overslept is all."

The grating voice got shriller, and Crys winced, covering her ears. "Sans, you lazy ass, what if a human came through?! We must be on guard at all times! Do not let me catch you slacking off again, or I'll dust you!"

Loud, stomping footsteps made the stairs groan, and a door slammed somewhere. Sans let out a breath, his shoulders sagging. He lifted up his sweater and removed Crys from his ribcage.

"Sorry, kiddo... that was m' bro."

Crys blinked owlishly at him. "He didn't seem very nice."

Sans chuckled, though it seemed empty. "Yeah.... but he's a real softie."

Sans ascended the stairs, human child secure in his arms. He shuffled past the first door, entering the door with odd colorful flames coming out from under it. He closed the door and set Crys on the mattress on the floor. He sat down in front of her.

"Okay, babybones... we need to get ya a disguise."

Crys tilted her head. "What for?"

Sans looked nervous. He rubbed the back of his 'neck', looking away. "Listen, babybones, people.... aren't very nice down here."

"But you're nice," Crys pointed out. Sans let out an amused huff.

"Yeah, well.... everyone else isn't. And they'll likely want ta hurt ya and take yer Soul."

"My Soul?"

Sans gave her an odd look, before a look of understanding crossed his face. "Okay, babybones, don't panic, okay? I'm gonna show you yer Soul."

Crys nodded slowly, still confused. Sans leaned forward and pressed a large hand against the front of the red sweater, and when he drew it back, he was holding a blue heart. Sans sucked in a sharp breath, and Crys looked up at him. His gaze was locked on the heart in front of her. "Babybones.... what happened to yer Soul? Who hurt ya?"

His tone was low, almost a growl. Crys looked back at the blue heart and saw that it was cracked- a single white crack down to the center of the heart. Crys couldn't find it in herself to answer him. Sans cupped his hands around the blue heart gently, like he was holding a baby bird. Finally, his gaze lifted and met hers. "Babybones.... yer Soul is damaged... 's halfway through shatterin'... what happened to ya?"

Crys' throat was dry. She licked her lips and looked down, fidgeting with the hem of the sweater. She saw a couple white particles floating around her legs. "I.... I dunno... there was a man with blue strings... I kept going back, until I found a way to.... to escape... it hurt so much... I..... my momma..... I couldn't- I couldn't..."

Sans flinched as her eyes welled up with tears, his gaze darting down to the small blue Soul in his hands. He carefully moved closer and let the heart go back into Crys' chest. He picked her up and sat down on the bed, stroking her hair as she started to cry into his sweater, murmuring soothingly to her. More white particles appeared as she cried, the memories of the pain and the screaming resurfacing and hitting her like a tsunami. Finally, when she was all cried out, the particles slowly disappated. Sans rested his skull on top of her head, still running his bone-fingers through her hair. "Shh, babybones.... 's okay.... yer okay..."

Crys gulped and took a shaky breath, tilting her head back to look at him. "I-Is that why m-my.... Soul is broken...? 'Cuz of the man with the strings?"

Sans looked regretful as he nodded. "'Fraid so, babybones... and I dunno if ya can be healed... never seen a Soul halfway through shatterin'."

Crys sniffled, a couple white particles appearing around her arms. "So I'm gonna be broken forever?"

Sans shook his head, sensing her growing distress. "Yer not broken, babybones... yer strong. Ya lived through a huge amount of trauma. That's crazy!"

Crys looked up at him, tears slowing their waterfall down her face. Sans grinned at her. "Yer the strongest li'l human I know, babybones."

Crys smiled shakily at him, wiping away her tears. Sans nuzzled the top of her head, still cradling her protectively in his arms. "Let's get ya somethin' new to wear, yeah?"

Crys nodded, and he stood up, walking over to a messy closet. He began sorting through the clothes with one hand, holding her with his other arm. He grunted, pulling out a few articles of clothing and a pair of shoes that were far too large for her. He shuffled back to the bed and laid out his findings on the bed. There was another sweater- a black one-, a red hoodie that looked it could drown her in the amount of fabric, a pair of thick yellow socks, and a pair of black trousers. Sans turned away as she pulled off the tear-stained sweater and dressed in her new garments. She struggled to tie the shoes with the long sleeves covering her hands, but Sans came to her rescue, lacing them up tight enough so she wouldn't trip over her feet every time she took a step. He chuckled.

"Yer tiny, babybones... ya need some actual kid-sized clothes."

Crys nodded. She knew she looked ridiculous, with the huge shoes on her feet and the hoodie that was obviously meant for a person much bigger than her. Sans shuffled over to the closet again and came back with a white cloth mask with a cartoon smile printed onto it. Crys stared at it, then at Sans. "What's that for?"

Sans let out his rumbly laugh. "So ya won't be immediately recognized as a human, babybones."

He tied the mask around her nose and mouth. Some of her skin was still showing, and Sans moved her hair so most of her forehead was covered. He surveyed her with a 'this is good enough' look on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but an angry shout interrupted whatever he was going to say.

"SANS!! Get your lazy cocyx down here before I drag you out myself!!"

Sans turned towards the door, grumbling. "I'm comin', I'm comin'!"

Apparently he wasn't going fast enough, because as he was reaching for the door, it was slammed open, a very, VERY tall figure looming in the doorway. A pair of cold red lights locked onto Crys before turning to Sans.

"Sans..... what the fuck is that?"

Previous Next

~AHAHAHAHA NOW I AM THE WIELDER OF ANGST AND FLUFF. Feel free to ask questions about the story, share your thoughts, ask headcanons, or send fanart! Make sure to check out the cover art and other drawings I've done for the series with the story tags! Thanks for reading, my gems!~

#storyglitch: underfell #sg: uf #oooo Paps is MAD #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #fell sans #fell papyrus #sans #papyrus #some more fluff with papa red #y'all don't understand how much I love Sans and Crys' dynamic #oc #story

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davidlynchschreibner · 4 years ago

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A long while ago an anon asked me for Davenzi touch headcanons and as happened previously it spiraled out of control into a snapshot-style fic. I left it a long time but with other angsty projects in the works I think it is high time for a fluff break. I hope you enjoy!

A Love Song In The Language Of Hands

With a mother whose arms had always been open for him to crawl into, a boisterous extended family during summer holidays, and friends who drape limbs over each other with thoughtless ease, Matteo has never had any real cause to be touch-starved. Yet, he finds that he has become most spoiled by the ready availability. He asks for nothing but observes how his bones ache and muscles cramp if he goes too long without physical contact. It sates that twinging discomfort to feel a hand on his back, passing over his hair, flicking the round tip of his nose. As he submerges in the warmth he realizes how much he had missed letting it soak in. Readily he gives back, reaching with his hands as once his heart could not, and revels in the care he can exchange. But while the affections of his family both blood and chosen quench his thirst, David is a pitcher of water drawn from an abundant well and the shady cool of a shelter to drink it in. Matteo feels quickly parched for want of the warm press of his body and chapped lips sliding over any available skin. Where the hugs of his friends soothe an ache David’s touch is a euphoric pleasure. So he’s always groping around for it in daylight, artificial light, and darkness. They are teased for their relentless displays of affection but any potential embarrassment rebounds off him without even leaving a scuff mark. Matteo isn’t particular about the method or the mood of their touches but he always craves them. Even a playful slap is good if its David’s hand that’s connecting. He doesn’t have a reason to need like this. But every day he does.

They have equally restless hands. David is an artist and through his eyes Matteo is the first masterpiece he can touch. Not like the stylized saints or marble heroes which awe viewers in museums. Nor the beautiful street art that spills over high city walls and the crumbling innards of abandoned buildings. Matteo is low to the ground, spindly, undecorated when he peels off his many patterned layers. David finds him a perfect canvas that begs for sweeps of paint and ink. The smooth hills of Matteo’s shoulderblades and the sharp mountain range of his spine make a small world to populate with myriad creations. Matteo loves David’s art with oceanic depth and power; he is eager to be part of it. It begins with a bird, a question, and a pen. They both find David’s little portrait on Matteo’s shoulder immensely satisfying. Later, Matteo volunteers to trial a design David is debating for a character and all frustration evaporates as he works. David admires the design after, blows air across the non-toxic paint to dry it, and says only ‘perfect’. With this in mind, Matteo discovers an excellent way to vent stress. When the feelings inside make David feel his skin is stretched too thin Matteo offers for David to communicate in the way he does best--- with art. He works so delicately and diligently, unspooling all the tangled cares of his day and putting them where they are felt, acknowledged, and later washed away by the shower. Matteo lies still for however long it takes, occasionally humming a gentle query or a contented encouragement, until David is almost as relaxed as the puddle of boy beneath him. With an admiring eye the artist observes his work and the way Matteo shows through in the spaces between lines. He smoothes his hands over the fresh ink, uncaring of the way it smudges in places, and presses a kiss to the top of Matteo’s tawny head.

It didn’t take long for Matteo to learn he loves the springy curls of David’s hair beneath his fingers. In quiet moments he strokes tender touches over the pleasantly textured strands, meditating with abstract appreciation how beautiful his boyfriend is. David never lets anyone else touch his hair (would understandably bristle if they tried) but he allows even the most provocative of ruffles because this is Matteo’s love language. His hands are not mean when they tug, not dehumanizing when they reach, not careless when they accidentally get tangled. They can give in their turn the softest admiration and comfort that cards away all worry. The underlying love can be felt no matter what the particular delivery method is. It would be a lie to say that Matteo doesn’t take advantage of his unique permission. Whether it is a playful mussing, sliding his hands into the tight whorls in order to push away or bring closer the face he loves so well, or reverent strokes reserved for private moments, it’s a treasured indulgence. David has grown to enjoy lying pliant under gentle attentions. When they’re curled together in bed or on the living room sofa with a film playing on the television he becomes so relaxed beneath the steady passes over his scalp that he’s fallen asleep on more than one occasion. Matteo buries his fingers in the thickness of the top, rubs over the shaved sides, traces the fine wisps that frame David’s hairline. He loves every hair on David’s head and what he can say with the ways hands move over them.

It’s not a feature most people give thought to but David thinks Matteo’s forehead is particularly well suited to kisses. It’s one of his favourite spots made all the more attractive for being usually covered by tangled ribbons of hair. They tumble into his eyes and move across in unpredictable patterns that shift the slivers of skin between with every movement. Matteo’s forehead isn’t seen in full often but David never forgets the warm plane and the way it curves around his eyebrows. There is a variety of ways to kiss it, each one a silent message that David’s intuitive boyfriend is an expert at interpreting. A slow press still humid with the shared moisture of many kisses says a silent ‘I love you’. A hard smack planted while Matteo tries to dodge teases ‘you’re my favourite idiot’. A feathery brush is an acknowledgment of connection when it feels like there is not enough time in the world. The lingering kiss that rests long and is eventually replaced by David’s cheek murmurs ‘there’s nowhere and no one better than you’. There’s a short peck reserved for praise which makes Matteo’s cheeks dimple and glow more than any flattering words. Sometimes his brow is wrinkled with the swells of his stressors and David traces his lips over the lines until they relax back into smoothness. When David is otherwise occupied with the demands of school, work, and his activities for the student group he volunteers with he apologizes for not being his best self with a firm kiss to Matteo’s temple. They’re still discovering the endless vocabulary of forehead kisses. And they have all the time in the world.

For all that David once fashioned himself a vampire it’s really more Matteo that has an interest in necks. David’s pointedly and specifically. It has always been this way even in the swaddled months of winter, back when they were both hiding in too many layers of clothes and anxiety and David first stood in the WG’s kitchen stripped down to a low-necked shirt. Matteo is quite enthralled with the long lean line his boyfriend displays when he turns his head. His eyes trace the curve from a distance, track the way it bobs when David swallows, shine with contentment when they come indoors from the cold and he watches David unwind his scarf. It’s Matteo’s special place to lavish kisses of both the tender and excited variety. A butterfly-soft contact to reassure, a passionate mouthing in the heat of the moment, a slow press in place of those three precious words. It makes his skin tingle and tighten pleasantly when he runs his lips over David’s throat in the early morning and a patch of stubble pricks him. Sometimes he buries his face there, just presses into the curve of David’s throat and breathes him in. It presses safety into his nerves, the shape slim but solid like the trunk of a young tree, and fragrant with his favourite person’s scent. Despite the strength of it this is such a vulnerable location and they both know it. The skin is thin over blood and bone and he sometimes revels in the fact David is completely at ease beneath his touch. Never shies, never tenses, instead tilts his head in invitation and wraps Matteo up in the warmth of his arms and sunbeam smile.

It’s a very common occurrence to find Matteo lying against David in lazy cat-like fashion and this sight is the one which readily comes to mind. But this is not always the case. It’s fact that David takes immense pleasure in curling his arms around the relaxed borders of the person that embodies home. He would do so until they both surrender to inevitable eternity. But the times where he curls into Matteo and lays his head down are also plentiful. They instinctively relax each other and find the grooves where they can fit together. Sometimes David releases the mindful control with which he guides his life and lets himself dissolve. With a contented puff of air he rests the head so heavy with thoughts in all the dips and bends of Matteo’s body. They cradle him with wordless patience and support. Whether it’s the soft bellows of Matteo’s belly, the sinuous hammock of his shoulder, or the firm plate of his chest, David feels the weight of his skull absorbed as easily as an empty eggshell. Other times, he is thinking of nothing serious at all and feels anchored to the world by the grounding pressure against his head. He turns his cheek into the divots between ribs and listens to the metronome of Matteo’s breath. Or Matteo does something annoying and David lets his head lift and thump back in fond rebuke. Or gently, so as not to jostle their brains, David slots his head just beneath Matteo’s and feels them rest like stacked stones. David can always rest his head on Matteo and the same is true in reverse.

Matteo is fascinated by David’s hands. They are useful in ways he loves to count and he thrills at what they can do. Yet they are not big or heavy with those abilities. The slim lengths of his brown fingers slide between Matteo’s pale digits like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place. Their palms are exactly the same size as he idly measured the first time they pressed together. Beautiful hands, he thinks, capable of both labor and the softest of touches. Long ago Matteo’s hands felt cold with emptiness that longed for another to enfold. It seemed perhaps he would never have that--- especially not from a boy. But David is always eager. In bed or on the street his fingers spread invitingly and prove ready to hook around Matteo’s. He loves those generous hands and how well they care for him. David knows when Matteo is anxious by the way his fingers twitch with the urge to fidget. The calloused pad of David’s thumb rubs soothingly over the nearest knuckle. If Matteo’s hand clenches suddenly tight he’s reaching his snapping point and David quickly places himself between whatever the trigger is and his boyfriend. When Matteo is wilting with the exhaustion of prolonged social engagement he slots their fingers together like a seamless mechanism, squeezes weakly, and David squeezes back in agreement. Then the former gets towed by the hand to an available space where things are less hectic. He’s tugged to lying his weary body against the strong support of David’s with their hands still intertwined. Their palms and fingers speak to each other with a language no one else understands.

Love can be expressed with roughness, David has discovered. He grins when Matteo shoves him across the couch, glares without real ire when teeth nip him, enjoys the way he can’t properly pin his boyfriend down because he fights dirty. The burn in his muscles when they wrestle is like a joyful flush. No matter how tenderly he’s cared for Matteo is still untamed. But that’s perfect--- David wants to be challenged and played with. Matteo pokes him in the side when he’s trying to focus and he slaps at the offending finger to make it go away, but it’s already been retracted in favor of an expectant expression that’s difficult to resist. If he wants to linger in bed (as happens every now and then) but Matteo wants to make breakfast he will seize David by the ankle and try to drag him off the mattress and even across the room should it come to that. They race each other and Matteo cheats to get ahead, but then David tackles him to the ground and they’re both yelling and laughing too much to go on. One day they are talking about something tedious and Matteo starts hitting him repeatedly with a pillow. With a frustrated growl David rips it from him and squashes the soft stuffing into Matteo’s face until he signals that he needs a breath. Even when David swallows it back because really he is irritated there’s always a sound of delight vibrating inside him. The other boy is a complete menace but it’s invigorating, lights him up inside, and is somehow more charming than good manners. His stomach jumps and then explodes upwards into butterflies when he’s given that devilish grin presaging some mischief. It’s not a delicate declaration of ardor but they are not fragile.

Their feet tangle and press when they lie together. Sometimes in the heat of summer cuddling is too sticky and they sleep sole to sole like sets of palms in prayer. Matteo loves thick socks, the fluffier the better, so the bottoms of his feet are kept smooth as silk. David began life running barefoot outdoors and his feet are calloused with years of pounding the ground, jumping, twisting inside his trainers so that the soles of his feet scrape. Matteo traces the arch of David’s foot with his toes and marvels at how the other boy is not at all ticklish. In the slanting light of another afternoon David balances a book at an awkward angle because their legs are wound together like a trailing plant and Matteo is cuddled under his other arm. Sometimes when they wrestle David seizes his boyfriend’s leg between both of his and holds tight against the wriggling and kicking as Matteo struggles to gain the upper hand. Eventually they declare a stalemate and lie panting with their limbs still twined. As their breathing quiets into sleepy softness Matteo burrows his foot beneath the edge of David’s trouser leg and runs his toes up the curve of the calf inside it, shivering as rough hairs brush against his skin. In winter Matteo’s feet are consistently freezing but David’s are always warm. They snuggle into the pile of blankets like two birds in the nest. Without being asked David stretches across the cool bedsheets and folds Matteo’s icy feet between the pleasant heat of his own. Like their hands, their feet are often holding each other.

The ways in which they affirm their love through touch are many and ever expanding. It’s impossible to count every expression and location and occasion. There are, David thinks, as many types of touch as there are words in the dictionary. Every one is listened to and remembered. Some spoken sharply, softly, slow and slurred, a burst of sound, an entire speech, staccato. They whisper in the dreamy dark and shout so suddenly it’s startling. Matteo has always been slow to find his words but he writes David beautiful sonnets with his fingers. David sometimes doesn’t know how to say what he is thinking but he can explain with the way he fits his body to Matteo’s. This language is foreign to some. But it is complex, evolving, equal, and most importantly theirs. They’ve had to learn it but it feels as comfortable as a mother tongue. When Matteo can barely lift his exhausted head let alone open his mouth he knows David will listen with his arms. On days that David can’t explain the feelings that throb inside his skin Matteo hears those thoughts through the head tucked beneath his chin. Sometimes they use words, sometimes they use touch, but they tell each other how much the other is loved twenty times a day. With their bodies they can talk, and talk, and talk.

#druck #fic #druck og #og druck #davenzi #my content

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trashboatprince · 4 years ago

Text

Might as well write up my own version of what happened after Tentoo and Rose were left on the beach.

Summery: The TARDIS is gone, and with it the Doctor, leaving Rose and her new Doctor behind, with even more things to deal with that aren’t universe destroying, but seem to be reminders of times long ago.

Warning: this is very heavy with headcanons and such, but then again, aren’t all these fanfics with Tentoo always nothing but headcanons?

On with the fic!

An Empty Jar and a Cup of Tea

The straining sounds of the TARDIS distracted Rose from the Doctor before her, making her realize that the other one was taking his leave.

He was doing it again, there was no final words, no goodbyes, just a silence hanging in the air. Is this how it was with Sarah Jane? Other companions and friends in his past? Rose felt her heart ache for his actions, they were the acts of a distraught man, one who couldn’t bare to stay less his hearts shatter completely.

She wanted to hate him, for leaving her on the beach again, she wanted to jump onto that fading box and hang on for dear life, screaming at him to open up and face her like the brave man he pretended to be.

But she couldn’t do any of that.

Rose wasn’t stupid, she knew that he left her with the only option that made any sense, that worked. He left her with himself, a piece of him that was all for her, still the same man, just a little bit more.

While the Doctor in the blue box was left to wallow in his own depression for leaving her behind, the pink and yellow girl was given a chance to continue her life with him, in a different way.

“He’s so stupid.”

Blinking, Rose looked to the Doctor in blue at her side, seeing the concerned expression on his tired face. “Excuse me?” She asked, catching his attention.

The Doctor turned, looking down at her, his face still showing concern and even a little bit of reluctant acceptance. “How can someone so clever be so stupid? He knew that you at least wanted a proper goodbye.”

“You know why.” She offered him a tired smile that was returned in just a matter of seconds.

“Right, he doesn’t do goodbyes, he doesn’t like endings.”

“Do you?”

“Oh, I suppose I can learn to live with them.” The Doctor chuckled, giving her hand a squeeze. “Rose Tyler, at least you give me an ending to look forward to.”

Rose’s smile grew a little at this, but it dropped quickly when she watched the half-alien start twitching, his eyes wide as he covered his mouth. He started to cough harshly, and she saw just the slightest glimmer of gold escape between his fingers.

Something in her told her to grab at it, and she quickly grasped at the gold light. It was regenerative energy, warm in her hand with just the slightest tingle, like touching an old TV screen when it was on for a while.

The Doctor pulled away from her, digging into his pocket quickly, his eyes still wide, frantic.

“Doctor?” Rose asked, worry in her voice. “What’s happenin’? Are you alright?”

He shook his head before pulling something from his jacket pocket. It was a jar, filled with a few odds and ends. “Open this, quick!” He said from behind his hand and she took it, opening the jar before he snatched it back, dumping the contents onto the sand.

Quickly, he removed his hand from his mouth and slammed it down on the mouth of the jar. Rose watched as the energy fell into the jar, swirling around within it. Carefully, he removed his hand, taking the lid from her, before holding out the jar. “Put what you have in here.”

Blinking, she looked at the little bit that clung to her skin, before dragging the palm of her hand against the lip of the jar. The lid slapped down on it and he sealed it. “Sorry, I’m still cooking, it seems.” He tried to explain with a smile. “Guess all the adrenaline of everything that happened didn’t really wear down until now, body’s trying to release all the energy it kept built up in case anything happened.”

“Why… did you put it in the jar?” Rose asked, watching him bend down to pick up his little objects he dumped on the ground, putting them into his pockets.

“I can’t regenerate in this body, only one heart, ya know? So, I figure I’ll hold onto the energy.”

“To… regenerate?” A part of Rose didn’t want that, she didn’t want to lose this Doctor like she lost his previous incarnation or the one who just left.

“No, I doubt it will work, I’m saving it for the coral.”

Oh, right, the other Doctor had given him a piece of coral from the TARDIS, and the Doctor Donna had happily explained to him how to make it grow in record time. It was all Greek to Rose when Donna explained what to do, but this Doctor seemed to completely understand her. “You’ll use your own energy to power it up?”

“In a way, yes. I gave life to the TARDIS before, when we first came to this world. I gave her a few years of my life to get her run…” He swayed for a second. “To get her running… running again…” He was panting before he dropped to his side.

“Doctor!” The blonde gasped, dropping to her knees, hearing him groan. She was having flashbacks to a Christmas years ago, when he had first changed in front of her eyes.

“Mum!” She called out to her mother, who had been standing a distance away, calling for Pete to pick them up. Jackie was quick to run over, asking what happened. “He’s still regenerating, like what happened before!”

“Think we need to get ‘em to a bed?” Jackie asked. “There’s that nice hotel up the road, we can stay there until your father comes. Pete said that the weather’s a bit harsh in England right now, won’t be able to come pick us up for a while.”

“Sounds good.” Rose nodded, grabbing the Doctor’s jar, putting it into her pocket as she moved to grab him off the ground. Each Tyler woman had an arm of the unconscious man swung over their shoulders as they started to walk towards the road.

As soon as they got to the road, there was a loud crack of thunder over their heads, before rain began to fall in sheets, like something from a movie. Rose sighed loudly, great, lovely, just one more thing to deal with.

“He owes us when he wakes up, ya know.” Jackie said over the rain and Rose was sure her mother was gonna happily hold onto that fact.

The woman at the front desk of the hotel was very sweet, though she did ask why they had a passed-out man in their hold. Jackie informed her that he was a fool for not sleeping well and passed out from exhaustion and he was in need of a good nap!

Ten minutes later, Rose found herself sitting in a two-bed room, with the Doctor laying in the one closest to the sliding doors that led out to look over the shore. He was stripped of his jacket, shoes, and pants, down to his t-shirt and boxers, his poor clothes hanging from the shower rod to drip dry for now. Rose was still soaked, but a towel had helped a bit with that, same with turning up the heat in the room. She sat on the bed with him, gently petting his hair, keeping hold of his jar in case he released more energy from his mouth.

It has already happened once since he passed out, luckily in the room. Rose was sure he wouldn’t be happy if he lost any outside, especially since the last time that happened, it got the attention of a nasty set of aliens.

“Do you think a nice cuppa will get him up and goin’ again?” Jackie asked, looking down at the sleeping alien.

“It wouldn’t hurt.” Rose commented, brushing a few hairs from the Doctor’s forehead. “It worked before.”

Jackie watched them quietly for a moment, before excusing herself to go and get them something to eat and drink from the lobby. Rose was only half-paying attention, too focused on the man before her. Now that she was looking, he really looked exactly like her former Doctor.

Same hair style, same pattern of freckles and the little wrinkles he had around his eyes that revealed he was much older than he seemed. She did take note that there seemed to be a slight change in hair color, not quite the rich dark brown she knew, but with the slightest hints of red in the light from the hotel room.

“Finally ginger, I see.” She smiled. “Donna really was good to you, glad you got to spend time with her.”

There was no response, just the softest sounds as he slept away. That didn’t stop Rose from talking as she sat there with him. “I met her, Donna, but it was an alternate timeline version of her. I feel so bad for what happened in her timeline, I wish I could have helped, but I wasn’t allowed, I couldn’t, not until the time was right.”

She looked at the jar, at the beautiful golden energy inside. “You died in that world, and because you did… because you were alone, so many people died.” She remembered his screwdriver on the ground, she had tried to take it, but it was taken before she could grab it.

“He’ll be okay, the other you, I’m sure of it. He’s not alone. He’s got Donna. He’s got Mickey and Martha, Jack and Sarah Jane, he’s not alone.” Rose smiled sadly. “He’ll be sad for a while, it’s gonna hurt, it hurt me to be alone, but I had my family, I had Mickey. I made some new friends here, I hope you’ll like them, I’m sure they can’t wait to meet the mysterious Doctor I told them so much about.”

There was still no response, the energy in the jar was warming the glass. The human decided to keep talking, just to avoid the silence. “I have weird dreams, you know, about you wanting to die alone on Satellite 5, when you sent me away. I came back, looked into the TARDIS, I saw everything and nothing. I saw you in so many ways, but I can’t remember them, just you, just you in that leather jacket with the big ears, and you with the pinstripes and the sandshoes.

I saw the golden light of the TARDIS, and it looked just like this, and you kissed it away from me, cause I was dyin’. Do I need to kiss you? To keep you from leaving me again?” Rose leaned down, gently kissing him on the lips. She felt that strange static from before, against her lips, and felt him respond to the kiss.

He was still sleeping, but the Doctor kissed her back, so gentle and sweet, and tasting of something Rose could only remember the phantom taste on her tongue from so long ago.

She pulled away, just before he opened his mouth, and she caught this golden swirl like before.

Rose sighed, leaning back against the headboard. “You better wake up soon, Doctor. I don’t want to worry about you during another invasion. Mum’ll kick your butt if you sleep through that again, she was not happy about the Christmas tree that destroyed the house.”

Reaching over, she took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. There was an unconscious squeeze in return. She ran her thumb over the back of the hand that she had seen sliced off on Christmas Day a few years back, now it was the hand that belonged to the man who promised to stay with her. And Rose believed that promise, she had never seen him more serious in that moment when he told her that he had one life and he wanted to spend it with her.

Her thoughts were stopped when Jackie came into the room, carefully carrying a full tray with her towards the little table near the television. “How’s he doin’? Still snoozin’ away the day?”

“Yeah,” Rose nodded, reluctantly letting go of his hand to get up from the bed to help her mother out, “I think he’ll be out for a while, he’s still spitting out regenerative energy.”

“That stuff in the jar?” Jackie made a face. “Why’s he keeping that?”

“For the TARDIS coral the other Doctor gave him.” Rose looked at the jar on the bed, then at the Doctor. He seemed to be mumbling something quietly in his sleep, turning onto his side, facing the window. His face scrunched up, like he was uncomfortable, or annoyed. Rose picked up a blue mug of tea, walking over to the side table the Doctor was facing, placing it close to him.

He took a deep inhale of the strong tea that even Rose could smell from where she stood, and she watched him visibly relax. The energy escaped him again and Rose was quick to capture it, sealing the lip once again. “Hope he doesn’t do this all night, don’t want to have to be awake after the day I’ve had.”

And what a day it’s been, Rose just wanted to sleep for the next few years at this point.

“Well, have somethin’ to eat, love, then shower and get yourself comfortable. I spoke with your dad again, seems that he won’t be able to get here until morning with all this rain.” The older Tyler gestured to the window, the rain was still coming down hard and the storm was still raging.

“I guess you’re right.” Rose nodded, moving to sit at the table with her, digging into the food her mother brought up for them. She took another look at the Doctor, who seemed to have returned to his inaudible conversation.

She never took him for a sleep talker, but then again, he was known for his gob.

Even as a part-human Time Lord, the Doctor’s sense of time was not damaged. It was weaker here, in a universe he wasn’t use to, but he was sure that in a month or two he’d have a handle on it.

As of this moment, he knew that it was about 4 hours in the morning, thirty-nine minutes, give or take six seconds.

And he also knew that he was awake, and the faint scent of tea was in his nose, he could taste it on his tongue. It was a local tea, had a bit of spiced orange rind mixed in, lovely blend. The Doctor was surprised to find that his nose and tongue still worked, though that might be connected to his Time Lord brain that stored these sorts of things to memory very well.

His sense of touch was a little off, that, or this blanket that covered him was washed with a dreadful laundry soap. His sense of hearing picked up breathing next to him, and a loud snort and shuffle of someone else in the room.

Opening his eyes, the Doctor found himself in a dark room, but he knew that already. He could make out the faintest of object shapes in the room. The only sources of light were from the alarm clock near his head, telling him the time, and of his jar.

It was full of his energy, still intact and swirling about. It wasn’t as much as there would have been from a full regeneration, like when he had become some of his previous selves. His counterpart had used a good chunk of it to heal himself and threw the rest into the hand that became the Doctor in this room.

It hadn’t been a lot of energy left, but this was still plenty to help feed the TARDIS coral, along with some other objects he had sneaked off the ship.

Carefully, the half-Time Lord picked it up off the bed, before realizing that it had been resting between him and someone. Pausing, he looked at the other occupant of the bed, seeing blonde hair in the glow of the jar, and a face he had seen in dreams for so long. The Doctor smiled softly, remembering what had happened, and who he was with.

Another snort was heard across the room.

Oh, apparently Jackie was here as well, okay.

Carefully, the Doctor got himself out of bed and made his way to the bedroom, stumbling on tired legs. Uhg, a side-effect of being human, probably. He got himself inside and turned on the lights, wincing at the brightness before adjusting to it.

There, he could see himself for the first time in the mirror, he hadn’t even bothered with the one in his wardrobe room back on the TARDIS-

He swallowed thickly, no, that wasn’t his anymore, it belonged to one person, a very sad person who needed time to heal.

The Doctor looked at the man in the reflection, seeing that he looked just like his counterpart, crazy hair, brown eyes, which was still strange cause he had never had brown eyes before, and yet still not a ginger. Can’t win them all. Freckles still there, though the mole had moved on his back, in fact, there were more freckles on his back and shoulders.

A side effect from Donna, probably.

He looked just like the other Doctor, but he also picked up a few things from Donna.

Could be worse, he could have done this with Jack. That thought alone made the Doctor shudder violently.

“Bleh.” He shook his head and continued to examine himself. He hadn’t really gotten a chance to see how different things were, especially because he really couldn’t look at his naked self with Donna right there!

Oh, Donna, she didn’t deserve what happened, but it’s better than her dying. He would rather she forgot him completely than to die because of him.

A little part of the Doctor hoped his other self could accidentally run into her after he’s changed his face sometime in the future, just to get a little closure. He’d need it.

The Doctor distracted himself from feeling upset with figuring things out about this new self he was given. For one thing, he seemed to be mostly Time Lord, which was a saving grace for his mind. However, the need to go back to sleep was strong, and the Doctor never really enjoyed sleep to begin with, so this was gonna be trouble.

His eyesight wasn’t the best, might have to upgrade the brainy specs, they could actually serve a true purpose now. His other senses seemed almost normal, just a little muted in some areas, but that’s alright, might be better for him with this form.

His right hand was more sensitive to touch, he noticed, his left was duller, much more human-based. This was gonna take some getting used to.

With a yawn, he turned off the light and made his way back into the room, where Rose and Jackie continued to sleep. He grabbed the cold mug of tea from the nightstand and found the microwave, activating it and hoping the women in the room were heavy sleepers. Once his drink was hot to his liking, he took a seat on the bed and took a drink.

Oh, that’s brilliant, made him feel a bit more normal. Heh, even this body needed a good cuppa to get itself back into shape.

Guess that’s why it was left by his side of the bed, a little wake up attempt. He took another drink and relaxed as he looked out the large windows. Getting up, he went to the sliding door and stepped outside.

The Doctor could smell the rain, it had stormed, there was still a slight feel of static in the air, but the rain was just a drizzle now. He stepped on the damp balcony, protected from the drizzle by an awning above his head. It was surreal to him, standing here at nearly five in the morning in a parallel Norway.

Not too long ago, he had been a hand in a jar, resting in the TARDIS and before that, in Torchwood. Now? Now he was the Doctor, a new version of him, part human, part Time Lord, still the same Doctor.

He was here in Pete’s World, left with no TARDIS or way back to his universe. But he had Rose, he had her, a new chance at life, even after everything he had done, he could start over. It’ll be tough, but the Doctor always loved a challenge.

He glanced over his shoulder when he heard something, seeing a tired Rose standing in the doorway to the balcony. “Doctor..?” She asked in a sleepy voice.

The Doctor turned and smiled. “Hello Rose Tyler, you should be sleeping.”

“So should you…” She shuffled towards him, leaning against his chest. The Doctor couldn’t help but to blush at this, she just did it like it was perfectly normal for them. “Come back to bed, ‘s cold.”

“I-I’ve got tea.”

Rose glanced at the mug, blinking slowly. “Oh. Oh!” Something seemed to click in her head, waking her up. “Did it work? Mum and I figured that tea might get you up and runnin’ again, like it had before.”

“Ah, it worked brilliantly.” He gave her his signature grin, taking another drink. “Not your mum’s tea like before, but it tastes and smells pretty good, so I can’t judge.”

Rose seemed to smile at that, lazily wrapping her arms around him. “So, you’re good then? No need for us to worry?”

“I’m perfectly fine, I think I’m good.” He replied, looking at his pink and yellow girl. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her forehead. “Should go to bed, this body wants more sleep and it’s not part of the regenerative cycle.”

She laughed a little into his chest and walked with him back into the room, closing the door behind them. Rose got into bed and waited for him to lay down under the covers before moving close to him, hugging onto him tightly. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re real.” She whispered.

“And so are you.” He replied quietly, holding her tight in return. “We’re both here, we’re both together, and in due time, we’ll be off having adventures together.”

“I’d like that.” She said with a smile in her voice. “Can’t wait for your jar to make that true.”

“Well, with that cup of tea, things are just getting started.”

END

That was fun! And long, eight pages, been a while since I’ve written that much for a one-shot!

Yeah, as I said, this is pretty much headcanon based. I’m all for Rose being all ‘is he or is he not the Doctor’ in fics, but I rather like the idea that Rose also doesn’t care. This is *her* Doctor, and she’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth!

Also, I got to put in a pretty good reference in here, so that’s a plus. Can you guess what it was?

Thanks for reading!

#doctor who #tentoo #rose tyler #tentoo x rose #tenrose #jackie tyler #john's drabbles

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ayyyez · 5 years ago

Note

(I really love your writing style and your blog is also amazing!! You really nail the characters’ personality! I look forward to seeing you write both headcanons and scenarios! Keep up your good work💕💕) Can I please have an NSFW scenario of Deidara and his female s/o first time?

a/n: Thank you, I really appreciate comments like this! And I’m glad you like my writing! Thank you so much!

warning: sxual content

-Deidara is a little clueless his first time. There’s just so much going on he’s like okay what do I do first, so many choices, wants to make you squirm. He’s very enthusiastic once the hesitation wears off though. Pls stop him from acting like a rabbit in heat, he can get a little carried away if you don’t reign him in.

-Hand mouths galore. You think he’s just using his fingers then bam tongue and finger combo. He has the perfect view of your face too so he can tease you about your facial reactions and the sounds coming from those sweet lips. All you have to do to take over and get him for it is grabbing him and slamming him onto his back while you take the lead. He’ll smirk but it’ll soon be gone the instant you touch him.

-Low-key loves grinding. If it wasn’t the first time you two were doing the do then he could happily do it for hours until it burned lol. Still there’s a very heavy makeout session where he just continuously grinds into you. Doesn’t even care how much he’s moaning he feels too good.

-Grips you a little too hard at times. He gets overwhelmed. Everything is just so stimulating. His hands squeeze your hips, bury into your hair and tug without realising and just mould against your body. He needs to feel you, grope you, caress you. Barely leaves a gap between you too. Can accidentally crush you while he’s on top because he just has to be so close.

-He started out really cocky but god he melts and gets so vulnerable as time you get into it. His kisses are less ferocious and filled more with longing and passion. It leaves you breathless. His kisses communicate more than his cocky remarks ever could. And oh wow you’ve never seen soft Dei until now. It’s his most intimate and vulnerable. Don’t tease him too much.

-His dominance wanes the closer to the act you two get. He won’t deny you dominance should you take it and honestly at this point he prefers it. Needs reassurance that this is what you both want. So you climb on top and his hands are still clutching firmly to your sides. His touch almost burns.

-You grab his erection that’s leaking precum and he’s guiding you onto it. He no longer has control of his handmouths and they nibble and lick your sides. Grits his teeth the second his head penetrates you. Throws his head back into the pillow as you ease down completely. There’s a noticeable shudder, his grip harder and you can all but shiver yourself.

-It takes a moment but then he looks up at you like you’re the finest piece of art he’s ever seen. His eyes tell you he’s going to make you explode. Not if you make him first. It’s a playful challenge. To give yourself and edge you roll your hips and he hisses. On the second roll he bucks up against you wearing that smile. It’s not a smirk exactly but oh does he want to play again.

-After you two find a rhythm he pushes himself up and guides you to an angle. Takes the pace slow but hard. His eyes burn as they find your gaze. His lips come to your breast and he grazes his teeth around your nipple. It’s not hard but it makes you tingle. For that your hands find his hair and fingertips bury in the roots pulling him closer. Asking him for more. And he complies by sucking and swirling his tongue. Your fingertips dig against his scalp and his handmouths nip your sides.

-In turn your roll you hips decisively. You notice the more drawn out and harder they are the more unfocused he gets. The moans become more. You add as much force as you can and he moans so loud he has to throw his head back. Your turn to smirk and he can’t have that. With more aggression than he realised he rolls you over and begins thrusting fast and hard into you.

-you would have laughed but the feeling was overwhelming. Your throats dry and the moans hearty. He buries his face in your neck, nibbling, sucking and biting. It stings but your completely overcome. All you can do is wrap you limbs around him while he completely fcks you. Deidara rabbit has taken over but you meet his hips with every thrust.

-He tries to hold out but he’s blinded by the lust. Comes first and hard. Needs a moment to come down. You’re still wrapped around him. He’s still inside you. You’re sweaty and panting. Wanting to come. He pulls out without a word and replaces his erection with his hand. It’s sucking, his fingers working and he’s kissing your neck again. Works fast and hard until you come.

-Deidara will gladly just fall asleep on top of you like this. It’s up to you to clean the two of you up. Depending on how tired he is will fall asleep rather quickly. If he’s still got energy he’s up for a little pillow talk. He’s honestly still so overwhelmed so don’t get too deep yet. The deep stuff comes in the morning.

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