#High Side Power Switch

[wli2mdoz]

Line circle on/off, power supply supervisor high voltage, mosfet as a switch

AUIPS7091 Series 1 Channel 5.5 V 230 mOhm SMT High Side Power Switch - SOIC-8

[notmoreflippingelves]

Why is it that my rare pair tendencies are not limited strictly to my hyperfixations of the moment but in like 99% of media that I consume? It's not fair. I just get a tiny little urge for like a day to read a fic or see an art for a specific pairing before returning to my main interest. Only to find that particular pairing that my stewpid brain had convinced itself "must be huge in this fandom because how could it NOT BE?" barely exists--if it even exists at all and I have clowned on myself yet again.

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[ja3yun]

Out of My League | S.JY

footballer!jake x fem footballer!reader

warnings: smut (mdni) unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, cream pie, nipple play, slight overstim, not proof read, anything else lmk!

w.c: 5.5k

REQ: can't stop thinking about football teammate-slash-friend jaeyun whom you've had a secret crush and have never acted on it because you felt like he was out of your league... until that afternoon right after training when you and some of your teammates were at his place, fixing up and getting ready for a pool party. jake let you take a shower in his own bathroom, and when he saw you step out in a sundress for the first time, he knew he won't be able to contain his hidden desires for you much longer...

a/n: hi! first of all, this is european football and not american, soccer basically. i hope you like this anon! i ran to complete this request because i have been dying for an excuse to write footballer jake and imagine him in a strip (for me? it's ac milan or celtic personally). I changed tiny little aspects of it, hope you don't mind! enjoy and reblog, like, comment, etc etc.

You sprint down the pitch, heart pounding as the ball moves rapidly between your teammates. The opposing team is pressing hard, and you sense the danger building. You catch sight of Jake, your reliable defensive midfielder, positioned just ahead of the backline. With the opposition's attackers closing in, you know it's time to reinforce your defence.

"Jake! Drop back!" you shout, your voice cutting through the roar of the crowd. Immediately, Jake responds to your command, falling back to help the defenders. You watch as he expertly positions himself, ready to intercept any potential threats. His quick reaction provides the necessary buffer, allowing your team to regroup and cover any gaps.

With Jake now deeper, the opposition's forward hesitates. This split-second delay is all your defenders need to mark their men more tightly. With Jake in position, you feel a renewed sense of security. You move to close down the space in front of you, preparing to press any midfielder attempting to break through.

The ball is passed wide to the opposing winger, and your full-back engages, trying to force them towards the touchline. The winger tries to cut inside, but Jake is there, reading the play perfectly. He steps up, intercepts the pass intended for the striker, and quickly looks for an outlet. His composure under pressure is evident as he spots you making yourself available for a pass.

"Switch!" you call, ready to change the direction of play. Jake delivers a precise pass to your feet, and you immediately look upfield, spotting an opportunity. You send a long ball to your winger, who takes it in stride and charges down the flank. The crowd's anticipation grows as he crosses the ball into the box.

There are only seconds on the overtime clock and you know you need to do something, and fast. You sprint into the penalty area, arriving just in time to meet the cross with a powerful header. The ball flies past the goalkeeper and into the net. The crowd of amateur football fans and dragged-along parents erupt in cheers as you and your teammates celebrate.

Jake's face lights up with a beaming smile as he sprints towards you. Without missing a beat, he wraps his arms around you and lifts you high into the air. Laughter bubbles out of you as he spins you around, the world blurring into a whirl of colours and cheers. His joy is infectious, and you can’t help but throw your arms up in delight.

As Jake sets you back down, the two of you share a moment of pure happiness. He places his hands on each side of your face and brings your forehead to his. “You fucking did it,” he whispers, though the excitement in his chest makes the words sound much louder. His lips suddenly find their way to your sweaty forehead and your eyes widen, a faint tingle spreading over your body.

Although he does this every time you score a winning goal - or any goal at all, for that matter - it still makes your heart flutter like a captured bird, frantically beating against its cage. Perhaps that’s why you strive to always score at least one goal every game, just to feel his touch like this.

Jake Sim, your friend and right-hand man on your co-ed college football team, has always had that effect on you. It was quite pathetic really, and so cliché that you almost smack yourself in the face every time you think about him. Harbouring a crush on your best friend is so noughties rom-com it’s almost laughable.

Your infatuation with Jake began two years ago when you both started college. He was in every single one of your classes, a coincidence that felt like destiny. From the first day, his charisma and kindness drew you in, and before long, you found yourself gravitating towards him. When you both signed up for the football team, your bond solidified. Practices, matches, and late-night study sessions became the fabric of your shared routine. You became inseparable, your lives interwoven with a seamless blend of friendship and teamwork.

Jake’s presence was a constant source of solace. His laughter was infectious, his encouragement unwavering. On the field, he was your anchor, always ready to support you, celebrate your victories, and lift you up - both literally and figuratively. Off the field, he was your confidant, your late-night study partner, and your favourite person to unwind with after a gruelling day. He was the only person in this world that never drained your social battery.

Yet, despite the closeness, you never dare to confess your feelings. You convince yourself that someone as perfect and enchanting as Jake can’t possibly see you in a romantic light. It isn’t that you think poorly of yourself - you know you are far from unattractive - but Jake’s effortless charm and the way everyone seems to orbit around him makes you feel like just another face in the crowd. He is so out of your league that you can’t ever fathom him liking you any more than he already does as your friend.

Your heart aches with unspoken longing, each shared smile and inside joke adding fuel to the fire of your crush. You cherish every moment with him, even though it comes with a bittersweet pang. Watching him laugh, seeing his eyes light up during your conversations, feeling the warmth of his arm casually draped over your shoulders - it was all wonderful and agonising at the same time.

In those quiet moments when you are alone with your thoughts, you fantasise about what it might be like if he reciprocates your feelings. But then reality crashes in, reminding you that Jake is seemingly unattainable. So, you keep your feelings locked away, hidden behind the facade of friendship, hoping that someday you might find the courage to tell him how you really feel. Until then, you continue to play, to score, and to revel in the moments when Jake’s lips touch your skin, even platonically.

You don’t get the chance to breathe in this moment with him because suddenly, your team hoists you into the air, shouting congratulatory words. It’s not uncommon for your football team to win; in fact, you’re all some of the best players in the amateur league. But a tight game like this one, with the score coming in at 2-1 thanks to you, is a special cause for celebration.

Amidst the jubilant chaos, you search for Jake's face below you. His adoring smile stretches across his cheeks, his eyes gleaming with awe. He looks up at you as if you're a hero, and for a moment, the world feels perfect.

Jake has always valued you as a player, often confessing during training that he aspires to emulate your skill and dedication. His admiration is no secret, but sometimes you wonder if there is something deeper behind those lingering glances and encouraging words.

“Alright, celebratory party at mine! Bring your trunks,” Jay bellows as the team finally places your feet back on the ground, their energy still buzzing from the win.

Within a beat of being steady, Jake slings an arm over your shoulder, his touch warm and familiar. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he pulls you closer, his fingers casually brushing against your arm. “Hey,” he says softly, “why don’t you get ready at my place? We can pregame a bit before heading over to Jay’s.”

His eyes flick to your lips briefly, and your heart skips a beat. You wonder if you’re imagining it, but the lingering intensity in his gaze makes you question everything, but you quickly dismiss it as pure delusion. “Sure, that sounds fun,” you manage to reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you.

As you walk together, his arm still draped over you, you steal glances at him, wondering if he can hear your thoughts and, fuck, you really hope he can’t. You made the mistake of eyeing him up in his football strip - a black and red vertical striped, tight-fitted top that adorns your school’s logo on the chest, paired with loose black shorts that show off his naturally muscly thighs. You are wearing the same uniform yet it looks like you’re dressed as a bad Álvaro Morata cosplay compared to your friend.

It’s no wonder he never looked at you as a potential romantic partner.

Maybe you could change that with a certain purchase you made last month.

_____

Walking into Jake’s room, you don’t bother to knock, knowing that he’s in the shower as you hear the water running from his ensuite bathroom. You've already changed into your outfit despite telling Jake you would get ready at his place. It isn’t uncommon for you to do this; after all, it is a lot of effort to lug around your makeup and curlers. Plus, you want to surprise him when he sees you.

Jake is so used to seeing you in either your football uniform or casual outfits - a rotation of jeans, leggings, or cargo trousers paired with loose t-shirts or hoodies, sometimes even one of his. It’s very rare he sees you as dolled up as you are right now; maybe the only other time was for his mum and dad’s 25th wedding anniversary.

But today, you have on something much nicer than anything you’ve ever placed on your body before. Last month, you purchased a milkmaid sundress after seeing over 20 TikToks in a row talking about how it appeases the male gaze. Now, you aren’t one to buy into the trap of dressing for a man, making it quite clear to everyone around you that you would rather die than appeal to men in exchange for your own comfort. But this was not just any man - this was Jake after all - and you wanted to be seen by him. So, is it a crime to want to gain his attention?

The dress hugs your curves in all the right places, the soft fabric accentuating your figure while still feeling incredibly comfortable. You look at yourself in Jake’s full-length mirror, turning from side to side and admiring the way the dress flows. The pretty floral pattern makes you look delicate and the way the dress cinches at your waist makes you feel like a princess.

Even though you are trying to impress Jake, you are surely impressing yourself.

The sound of the shower stops, and your heart races. You quickly check your reflection one last time, smoothing down your dress and adjusting a stray piece of hair. The bathroom door opens, and Jake steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist, water still glistening on his skin.

The sight takes your breath away. His tanned skin glows warmly against the stark white of the towel, a striking contrast that only emphasises his natural allure. Water droplets cling to his sculpted chest, slowly trickling down the ridges of his abs and disappearing to an area you’ve been desperate to explore for years. The light filtering into the room catches the droplets, making them shimmer like tiny jewels on his bronzed skin.

Jake’s hair, damp and tousled from the shower, clings to his forehead in a mess of dark waves. The wet shag frames his face perfectly, his puppy-dog eyes peeking through the chaos with a boyish charm that makes your heart thump. His muscles ripple subtly with each movement as he ruffles the back of his hair with another towel, the play of light and shadow accentuating every defined line and curve. The towel rests low on his hips, teasingly hinting at the strong lines of his lower abdomen, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks at the sight.

He pauses in his tracks, hands falling to his sides as his mouth falls open, taking in your appearance. His eyes widen, darkening with an emotion you can’t quite place. The room feels charged with electricity as his gaze sweeps over you, slow and deliberate. You feel suddenly insecure, acutely aware of every inch of your body under his intense scrutiny.

His eyes trail from your face, lingering on your flushed cheeks and the way your hair frames your features. They travel down the graceful curve of your neck to the neckline of your dress, where the delicate lace trim accentuates your collarbones. His breath catches as his stare continues its descent, taking in the way the fabric hugs your waist and flares out over your hips.

When his eyes reach the slit in your dress, exposing a tantalising glimpse of your leg, he audibly gulps, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing in astonishment. His reaction sends a thrill through you, your insecurities momentarily forgotten as you realise just how deeply you’ve affected him.

“Fuck me,” he says in exasperation, his voice barely a whisper, filled with raw desire and admiration.

Jake’s eyes snap back up to meet yours, and the intensity in his gaze makes your heart pound in your chest. He takes a tentative step forward, closing the distance between you slightly, his movements slow and deliberate as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

“You look...unreal,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “When did you, uh, when did you get that dress?” He tries to play the question off as passive but the slight stutter in his voice betrays him.

You feel a surge of confidence mixed with nervous excitement. This is your chance, and you don’t want to let it slip away. “Oh, this?” you say, feigning nonchalance as you do a little twirl, the dress flares out beautifully. “I got it last month. I thought it might be fun to dress up for a change. I am the star of the party after all.” The giggle that escapes your lips makes you cringe but something about this dress is doing something to you, adding a strange allure to your character that you didn’t know was there before.

Or maybe it’s the way you see the boy in front of you physically melt at the sound.

Jake’s eyes follow the movement of your dress, his eyes lingering on the way it hugs your figure. “Fun is one way to describe it,” he says, his voice low. “I always thought you were beautiful but this? This is insane.”

You pause dead in your tracks, eyes widening for a split second as the words filter through your ears and register in your brain. He always thought you were beautiful. It takes everything inside you not to scream into the boy's face with sheer glee, jumping up and down on his bed like you just won the Euros.

You blink a few times, trying to process his words. “You think I’m beautiful?” you repeat, the question tumbling out before you can stop it.

Jake’s leer is steady, unwavering as he looks at you. “Yeah,” he says softly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You had to know that.”

You absolutely did not know that. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you force yourself to breathe evenly. Jake's casual demeanour around you has always been so effortless and unassuming that it's almost bizarre to think he ever considered you might know how he truly feels. The realisation is surreal, like stepping into a dream where every moment has been charged with unspoken longing.

“Honestly, no,” you manage, your voice a mere whisper in the quiet between you. “I was completely clueless, I guess.”

His brows knit together in genuine surprise. “Really?”

The reason Jake is so shocked is that for years he has pined after you like a lovesick fool. From the very first day he saw you walk into class, he knew he wanted to be around you all the time - morning and night, evenings and afternoons. If he could keep you close, he would. And by God, did he.

All those lingering touches on your waist as he passed by, the way he held your hand during crowded spaces that weren’t actually that crowded, and the tender kisses to your forehead at every game - those were all subtle hints about his affection towards you.

Jake had never shared this secret with you, but in his first year of college, he received an offer to play for a high-ranking football team, one that could have easily catapulted him into the professional leagues if he dedicated himself fully. But when he learned that you were a midfielder trying out for your own school’s team, his dreams took a backseat to his feelings for you. The chance to stay close to you, to be part of your daily life, meant more to him than any career advancement.

So, he turned down the prestigious offer and remained at college, using the chance to join the same football team as you. Every practice, every game, every moment spent on the pitch was an opportunity to be near you, to support you, and to be part of your world. It wasn’t just about playing the sport he loved - it was about being close to the girl he adored.

He had hoped his feelings would eventually become clear, that maybe the way he looked at you, the way he cheered for you a bit louder than anyone else, would convey what words could not. Yet here you were, completely unaware of the depth of his emotions.

“Yeah, really,” he says, his voice softening with a mix of relief and vulnerability. “I guess I’m not very good at showing it. I should have been a bit more obvious, huh?”

You can’t help but let out a scoff, both amused and touched. “Oh, you think?” you say, your voice tinged with playful exasperation. “The subtlety was impressive, but maybe a little too subtle.”

Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, he tilts his head, his pupils conveying everything he has failed to tell you the past few years, glistening with fondness. His hand lingers on your cheek and his eyes are back on your lips, the same way they were earlier after the game. So you didn’t imagine it after all. 

Your chest rises but refuses to deflate as you hold in your breath, anticipation running rampant through your body. Jake’s fingers gently caress your cheek, his touch both reassuring and electrifying. The proximity of his body, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creates a cocoon of intimacy that feels both exhilarating and calming. His eyes lock onto yours with a mixture of hope and desire, and you can’t help but feel a flush of lust hit your core and love punch your heart.

“Do you…feel similar? To me?” he asks, not sure the right way to phrase the question, the words stuck in his throat in fear that you’ll laugh in his face and ruin any potential opportunity he has right not to claim your lips with his own.

Inhaling, you nod. “Yeah, for a long time.” The admission throws Jake off balance, his brain unable to make sense of your words. You had wanted this as much as him?

His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, his intentions clear and unspoken. The air between you is charged, brimming with the promise of what could be. Your heart races, each second stretching into eternity as you wait for him to close the distance.

You’re almost overwhelmed by the urge to grab him and pull him into you, your mind screaming at him to stop teasing and make the move you’ve been craving. The tension is almost unbearable, the anticipation so thick it feels like it could be sliced with a knife. After years of feeling like you never stood a chance, the least he can do is bridge the gap between you two.

And finally, he does. Once he’s certain you won’t back away, Jake closes the space between you with a fervent urgency. His lips crash onto yours, the soft plumpness melding with yours in a symphonic harmony. The kiss is both tender and intense, a mingling of passion and longing that seems to erase all the doubts and fears of the past.

As his lips move against yours, you feel a surge of warmth, a thrilling confirmation of the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, the contact grounding you at the moment. Every touch, every caress, is electric as if he’s been waiting to show you just how much you mean to him.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your mouth, his voice a low, throaty whisper that sends shivers down your spine. His lips continue their relentless exploration, tilting his head to capture every corner of your mouth. He sweeps his tongue along your lips, his movements slow and deliberate, tracing the contours of your mouth with a possessive tenderness.

The kiss becomes intensified as his tongue glides into your mouth, dancing in a primal and captivating rhythm. He explores you with idle enthusiasm, each caress promising the depth of his affections. His hands slip from your waist to your lower back, pushing you close to him. You can feel the solid heat of his chest on yours, the hard planes of his body pushing into you, creating an internal fire that causes your heart to accelerate.

You respond eagerly, your own tongue meeting his in a passionate tango. Your fingers dig into his still-damp biceps, drawing him closer, your bodies melding together in a way that feels impossibly intimate. The outline of his arousal is unmistakable as it presses against your lower abdomen, the towel he’s wearing doing little to mask his growing need.

The sensation of his hardness against you adds a new layer of intensity to the moment, making your breath hitch and your skin flush with warmth. Every movement, every touch, heightens the urgency of your connection. His hands explore your back with a possessive hunger, his touch sending shivers up your spine. 

His hands move with deliberate slowness, tracing intricate patterns along your spine before dipping lower. As his fingers find the slit in your dress, they pause momentarily, teasing you with the promise of what’s to come. The anticipation builds, your breath catching in your throat, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.

With a subtle shift, he pushes the fabric aside, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your panties. The intimate contact sends a shockwave through your body, your knees weakening as you lean into him for support. His touch is confident yet gentle, exploring the slick heat between your thighs with eagerness.

Each movement is calculated, designed to elicit the most exquisite reactions from you. Jake’s fingers glide through your folds, finding the sensitive bud that makes your entire body tense with pleasure. He circles it slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp and arch against him.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against your ear, his voice husky with desire. "I wish I showed you just how gorgeous you are every day, even in your strip. You look like a fucking vision in those grass-stained shorts."

A guffaw of scepticism leaves your lips but is swiftly bitten back when he puts delightful pressure on your nub, robbing the breath from your lungs.

The sensation is overwhelming, your senses heightened to the point where every touch feels magnified. His other hand remains on your lower back, holding you close, ensuring you don’t escape his grasp. The heat of his body, the firmness of his muscles, the way he’s pressed so intimately against you - it all combines to create a heady cocktail of desire that leaves you dizzy and yearning for more.

His fingers dip lower, teasing your entrance before plunging inside with deliberate, agonising slowness. The invasion is both gentle and commanding, a silent declaration of his control over your pleasure. He moves with a skill that makes your breath hitch and your legs tremble, his thumb continuing to caress your clit in perfect synchrony.

Your own hands, now trembling with need, slide from his biceps to clutch at his shoulders. You pull him even closer, your bodies melding together in a desperate bid for more contact. The towel around his waist loosens, and with a determined tug, you discard it, letting it fall to the floor. His arousal, now unencumbered, presses more insistently against you, the barrier of your new dress between you feeling almost unbearable.

"God, I need you," you whisper, your voice a breathless plea.

He responds with a deep, throaty growl, his lips finding yours again in a searing kiss. Your hand moves between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his length. The heat and hardness of him in your grasp send a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. You start to pump him slowly, savouring the feel of him in your hand, the way he twitches and grows even stiffer under your touch.

“Fuck- faster, baby,” he moans into your mouth, relishing in your grip.

You obey his instructions and pump his cock as best as you could, considering your head is in the clouds thanks to his fingers stretching you open. Every stroke of his digits, every brush of his thumb, pushes you closer to the edge. Your moans are soft, breathy, filled with the urgency of your desire. His name slips from your lips in a whispered plea, and he responds by increasing the tempo, his touch becoming more insistent, more demanding as he matches the rhythm of your desperate strokes on his member.

"I can't get enough of you," he whispers against your lips, his breath hot and tantalising.

The universe narrows to the sensation of his fingers inside you, a visceral and intense dance. Your body responds eagerly, hips moving in sync with his touches, each thrust bringing you closer to that wonderful, unavoidable release. The pressure rises, your muscles tense, and you breathe in small, quick spurts. Your grasp on his cock is non-existent, and your foremost focus is now on your own high.

And then, with one final, perfectly timed movement of his pointer and middle fingers pressing up against your wall, you shatter. Pleasure washes over you in waves, your body convulsing in his arms, a keening cry escaping your lips. As you come down from the high, your breaths ragged and your body trembling, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling achingly empty.

"I'm going to make sure I'm never subtle again," Jake growls, his voice thick with craving.

Without hesitation, he pushes you onto the bed, the urgency in his movements undeniable. He stands over you, stroking himself with a mixture of need and appreciation, his eyes dark with lust. In one swift motion, he grabs your panties and tears them away, the sound of ripping fabric echoing the raw intensity between you.

To have you laying in front of him, your pretty new dress that only he has gotten to see you in now splayed across his bedsheets, the slit sitting on each side of you, exposing your wet cunt, it’s a dream come true.

Jake climbs on top of you, his body a solid, reassuring presence. He positions himself at your entrance, his hardness pressing against your slick folds, the tip of his member kissing your clit, causing you to jolt your back off the bed, the feeling overstimulating against the sensitive rosebud. 

His hands grip your hips possessively, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce determination. "All these years," he mutters, his voice a rough whisper, "I fucking held myself back. But I can't wait any longer, baby."

With a powerful thrust, he enters you, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. You gasp, your body arching up to meet him, the sudden invasion a perfect mix of pain and pleasure. He sets a relentless pace, each thrust deep and demanding, his pent-up desire driving him forward.

Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you buck up to match his rhythm, your bodies moving in perfect sync. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared passion, the bed creaking beneath you, the wet sounds of your joining, and the mingled cries of pleasure escaping both of your lips.

Jake's left hand moves from your hips, trailing up your body, slipping over the fabric of your sundress. He pulls down the top, exposing your perfect tits. His eyes darken with lust as he watches them bounce with each thrust, a look of sheer delight crossing his features. He hates to admit it, but during drill practices, he eyes the way they bounce under your t-shirt, only wishing to see them bare. This is much better than he could have ever imagined. He leans down, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling with a fervour that makes you moan loudly.

The sensation of his mouth on you, his tongue swirling around your sensitive peak, sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core, amplifying the feeling of his cock pounding into you, your walls tightening and drawing him in further. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, his teeth grazing lightly, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Jake," you moan, the intensity of the moment building once again. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

"Never," he growls, his voice a primal promise. "I’m going to make you mine, finally."

His hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit. He rubs it in tight, circular motions, perfectly in sync with his thrusts. The added stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, your entire body trembling with the force of your impending climax.

His movements become even more urgent, his hips snapping against yours with a force that drives you both to the brink. The friction, the heat, the overwhelming need—it all converges into a blinding wave of ecstasy. Your second climax crashes over you, your body convulsing around him, pulling him deeper into your core.

With a final, shuddering thrust, Jake finds his release, his moan mingling with yours as he empties himself inside you, hot spurts of his cum filling you up to the brim. The sensation of his warmth spreading through you, the feel of his body pressed so intimately against yours, sends you spiralling into a shared afterglow of satisfaction and exhaustion.

Breathless and trembling, Jake collapses on top of you, his weight a comforting presence. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting lazy kisses along your collarbone, his lips warm and tender against your flushed skin. His hands stroke your sides gently, tracing the curve of your waist, his touch soothing and affectionate.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. "You wouldn’t even believe how much."

Your arms wrap around him, kissing the top of his head adoringly. “I have a slight clue,” you titter, looking down at his exhausted frame. He looks so cute in this position. Ironically, you have been in this exact pose before; cradling him while he places his head on your chest, except typically you’re in matching pyjamas and watching one of his superhero movies.

How it took you both his long to realise you both liked one another is beyond bafflement. 

Glancing up at you with those shimmering eyes and bright smile, Jake pouts the way he always does, making your heart melt. “I really did find you beautiful, before you dolled yourself up like this,” he explains, hoping that you don’t think for a minute that it was the dress that caused this turn of events. It helped, for sure, but he would have fucked you in front of everyone on the first day he saw you if it was socially acceptable.

Kissing his forehead, much like he does to you, you reassure him. “I know. And I fancied you well before I saw you in that white towel,” you laugh, injecting some lightheartedness into the tender moment.

Sitting up and pulling out of you with a hiss, Jake’s eyes roam your body once again. “We should get you cleaned up before we go to the pool party,” he smiles, slightly sad that he has to share you with the team, rather than spend more alone time with you.

“Or…” you trail off, sitting on your elbows.

“Or?” he prompts, curiosity piqued.

“We could stay here? Order in and just relax the way we always do?” The suggestion is symbolic to you both, each of you scared to admit your feelings the past few years for fear that it would change your relationship dynamic. But nothing has to change, rather just adapt around your already established friendship.

Smiling widely, Jake nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.” He looks at your exposed breasts, a smirk etching on his face. “Can we add fucking some more to that list?”

You laugh, reaching up to pull him back down into a kiss. “Absolutely, but I was still VIP of the game today so I think I deserve something special,” you tease, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

He grins against your lips, his hand sliding back down your body to cup your breast. “Fuck yes, anything you want, baby. I’ll make sure it’s better than any trophy.”

His words send a thrill through you, your body responding eagerly to his touch. "Good," you murmur, your lips brushing against his. "Because I've got a few ideas in mind."

_____

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve @heeseungsbm @star-hoon

[strawb3rrystar]

Hazbin hotel with a bunny-like demon reader? Nsfw and sfw if possible. Love your writing btw!

Stop stealing my FUCKING CARROTS BUGS BUNNY.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Vox, Valentino x GN! Bunny-like demon! Reader

Warnings: Nsfw stuff, Mentions heat-cycles, Aroace Alastor

Word count: 1.1k

✰Masterlist

Charlie Morningstar - Rabbit species: Pygmy rabbit

Sfw:

✰ She'll 100% play with your ears if you have them! She'll have you lay your head in her lap while she runs her fingers over the backs of your ears and into/over your hair.

✰ Will probably ask you a bunch of rabbit related questions. Like, do you like carrots over lettuce? Or do you have a heightened sense of smell? Better hearing?

✰ She'll squeal every time she sees your nose twitch. She thinks it's the most adorable thing ever.

✰ Will give you bunny kisses while you are cuddling and trap you in a koala hug.

Nsfw:

✰ I headcanon her to be more bottom leaning

✰ She works so hard all day, so she needs you to take control in bed

✰ I don't think you guys do anything extreme, pretty vanilla and fluffy

✰ You guys probably take things slow and use sex as a way to relax

✰ She'll 100% help you with your heat-cycle if you let her

Vaggie - Rabbit species: European rabbit

Sfw:

✰ Will let you touch her wings if she can touch your ears

✰ She was so worried the first time she heard your high-pitch squeal of distress. Turns out, Niffty accidentally bumped into you while cleaning.

✰ Her favorite thing that you do is when you thump your foot to get her attention

✰ She also finds that she's a lot more comfortable with you nuzzled into her side

Nsfw:

✰ I headcanon her to be a service switch

✰ She can lean both ways, but she always focuses on your pleasure

✰ Make sure you take care of her every once and a while though

✰ Again, I don't think you two would do anything too crazy

✰ I think sex with Vaggie would be sweet and loving

Angel Dust - Rabbit species: Mexican cottontail

Sfw:

✰ Do I think he likes to pick you up and spin you around? Yes, yes I do

✰ Will let you play with his chest fluff while he plays with your tail

✰ He'll tease you in a loving way, don't be afraid to tease him back

✰ Will constantly be giving you flirtatious winks across the room and cheek and forehead pecks.

Nsfw:

✰ I headcanon him being a power switch

✰ His work requires him to be the bottom in every situation, but I think he likes to be the one on top with his partner

✰ He likes to know he has complete control over his life outside of work and doesn't have to be treated like a toy all the time

✰ Since he's done every kink at least once, I think he'd be more than happy to guide you through whatever you want to explore

Husk - Rabbit species: Dice's cottontail

Sfw:

✰ You were a bit weary of him at first because cats are sometimes predators of rabbits. But you eventually warmed up to him.

✰ He was freaked out when he discovered you sometimes sleep with your eyes open

✰ You probably kick him in his sleep, but he doesn't mind

✰ He does not know how to deal with your zoomies. You guys are like the complete opposite when it comes to activity

Nsfw:

✰ I headcanon him to be a service switch

✰ He can also lean both ways and doesn't mind taking a less dominant role

✰ In his mind, as long as you're happy and getting pleasure he doesn't mind doing anything at all

✰ You guys help each other out during your heat cycle

Sir Pentious - Rabbit species: Volcano rabbit

Sfw:

✰ He likes to curl up in your lap and stay there for as long as he can

✰ Will tear up if he finds you taking care of his egg bois

✰ You guys have a garden together and he makes you mini bouquets of flowers

✰ He sleeps curled up next to you for warmth

Nsfw:

✰ I headcanon that he's a bottom

✰ Pentious does not have a dominant bone in his body

✰ He might be a little subconscious about having two dicks, so give him all the kisses in the world

✰ You'll definitely have to take the lead because he'll be too shy to

Alastor - Rabbit species: Swamp rabbit

✰ Imagine him owning your soul and treating you like a pet

✰ Dragging you around everywhere just because he can

✰ Giving you a pat on the head if you did a good job on something

✰ Feeding you treats for the most mundane, stupidest tasks

✰ Actually addressing you as bunny or pet

✰ Keeping you on a leash so you never get away

Lucifer - Rabbit species: Omilteme cottontail

Sfw:

✰ Will wrap his wings around you when you cuddle

✰ He'll boop your nose or play with your ears at random times of the day

✰ Gifts you rubber duckies with rabbit ears

✰ Does a TON of research about rabbit behaviors and your species

Nsfw:

✰ I see him as a service switch, who is more bottom leaning

✰ Like, he LIVES to pleasure you

✰ Literally can not get off if your not

✰ He whimpers (That's all I'm saying bc Lucifer fans scare me)

Vox - Rabbit species: Desert cottontail

Sfw:

✰ Will sneak up on you an rub your ears and then tease you when you have a reaction

✰ He'll play cartoons on his screen to get you to pay attention

✰ If you thump your foot at him, he'll do it back

✰ Teases your tail until it drives you crazy

Nsfw:

✰ I headcanon that he's a bratty switch

✰ He's a tease in every sense of the word

✰ Will help you with your heat-cycle though

✰ But then he'll purposefully tease you in a public setting to turn you on

Valentino - Rabbit species: Tres Marias cottontail

Sfw:

✰ Like Vox, he also likes to tease you

✰ Will use the disadvantages of your body against you, so do it right back

✰ If you like flopping when you're comfortable, he'll join you and nuzzle his face into your neck

✰ He'll find it odd at first when he notices you like rubbing your chin on him. So he'll ask Vox why you do that, once he explains Val will be very honored you do that.

Nsfw:

✰ This man can not top you

✰ Kiss your dreams of being dominant goodbye

✰ Will make you cum over and over again until he satisfied

✰ 100% will help you with your heat-cycle

Star's notes -> I did WAY too much research on rabbits for this

(Thank you, @lovely-dove69 for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @calalapatapola @budozone @sugarplumz100 @marenelili @myamythos @hazbinhappy | Join the taglist

[jns2amoto]

What is a mosfet, MosFet circuit, High side MosFet, MOSFET switching speed

N-Channel 20 V 1 A 0.45 Ω Surface Mount Enhancement Mode Power MosFet - SOT-323

[chazz-is-a-zelda-fan]

shortly after the celebi goes in front of the unown king.... the two stare at each other.... and then, another pokemon flies in.... its the latios that was gifted to me... and im riding on its back!!

it then makes a stop.... and i hop off its back... and look at bery....... some unowns form a sentence around me.... "ARE YOU OKAY?" and im... very VERY scared for bery... its clear by my expression.....

meanwhile... the unown king gets the message that this is friend? maybe? well.... my friend at least c: .... and takes a step back.... my celebi still looking at it...... -🖤

Beryllium hesitated on throwing out Latias. the cold, suffocating darkness crept back on them, that feeling of ice stabbing into his skin. before the paralysis could come back, though, the cry of a familiar Pokemon sounded out. Bery's head snapped up, eye still blackened, but the ones formed by his scars had decent enough eyesight to register. a spark of hope warmed them, and sure enough, Beryllium had been spot-on.

The blue and white pattern of the Latios that Beryllium had come to love flew in, arms by it's side. and if kyan was right, then the monochromatic figure riding atop it must be...

as Latios slowed down and lowered itself, you wasted no time hopping off and making your way to Bery. kyan was trying to process what had just happened... not even 10 minutes ago, they'd worried that you left him and Blaziken for dead. and now here you were, seemingly to rescue them. it was a lot to process, and the strain on his body from letting the corruption take over was proving too much. Latios flew over as Beryllium's legs gave out, catching them as he fell. you asked them if they were alright, but his eye was barely returning to normal, and all kyan could do was groan and shake their head.

Beryllium's body was shaking and cold. the overwhelming atmosphere of the void was so much worse than last time, but kyan barely managed to hold onto consciousness. you came by their side, Unowns spelling out "WHERES BLAZIKEN?" all Bery could do was gesture to the Pokeballs on their belt, hoping his message got across. kyan's eye was slowly returning to normal, scars on their face bleeding slightly less, but still more than usual. Latios let out a low whine in concern for their original trainer.

Beryllium's breathing was labored, and kyan's body was shaking, but they managed to tell you something. "can... get... can we... out... need to... get out..." they trembled again, before gently tossing out Latias' Pokeball, the red Pokemon catching her trainer before Bery collapsed. she cried out, and you knew what she was asking.

[bachissidehoe]

Blue Lock Men & Your First Time

featuring: Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Nagi, Reo, Rin

“I- before we go further I- just want to tell you it’s my first time…I definitely want to, I just thought you should know…”

Isagi: he smiles softly, pulling your shaky, nervous body into a soft, tender kiss. He goes slower than he normally would, his tip dancing against your tight little hole, pressing into you just centimeters at a time, ensuring your comfort the entire way. As soon as his entire cock plunges inside you, you gasp, letting out a moan from the unexpected pleasure. But as soon as Isagi gets a hint that you’re enjoying yourself, his switch flips, and his tender attitude washes away as he thrusts deep into you.

Bachira: he can’t hide his devilish smile, that little demonic look in his eyes. He can’t help it, to have that power over you is exciting. “Don’t worry pretty girl, might hurt a little at first but I’ll take care of ya.” He slides a finger inside you, then a second, playing around with your obvious arousal, scissoring his fingers to work on stretching you out. “Y’can take me. Promise. You’ll love it.” He smirks, replacing his fingers with the tip of his cock. He pushes it into you, attaching his lips to yours to drink up all your whimpers and winces from the pain. He can’t help it turns him on to see you just a little in pain, he can’t help that it makes him push harder and faster.

Chigiri: he’s surprised to hear that it’s your first time, you’re always so flirty and forward he expected you’d at least have a little experience. Regardless, he’s honored to be in this position, and makes sure you know that. “Why don’t you get on top and slide down, you know, gravity’ll do the work.” He suggests. “Lucky I have this hm.” He pulls out a bottle of lube, lathering it onto his perky cock and stuffing some of the gel into your pretty pussy. He holds your hips as you hover your hole over him, slowly sliding down. The lube makes it much easier, with you bottoming out in no time. “See look at you, fuck~ you’re so damn good at this. A natural. That’s it~” he praises.

Nagi: this is even better for him, he can just lay back lazily and let you ride his thick cock however you please. “You wanna just sit on it?” He asks, sharp pains radiating through your lower half as you sit halfway on his gorgeous, pulsing shaft. “Don’t worry ‘bout moving.” He loves the pleasure just from the tease, you slowly getting used to his size is like heaven for the snowy-haired boy. He’d let you sit on his cock all day, twitching inside your pretty cunt as the pain slowly washes away.

Reo: he smiles kindly, a plan instantly coming to mind. “Wow beautiful, and you trust me with this? Let me make you feel good first, it’ll make it easier to take, trust me.” He dips his head between your soft thighs, licking up your wetness and lapping circles around your throbbing clit. You can’t help but grab at his hair, the sensation of his perfect tongue sliding against your tight, wet pussy. In almost no time you find yourself releasing, cum soaking his eager tongue. Reo fucks you as you come down from your high, the pain of your first time nonexistent after he took care of you so damn good.

Rin: he tilts his head to the side. “You sure you want it to be me?” He asks. You nod eagerly, encouraging him to continue sucking dark hickeys into your neck, down to your tits, on your inner thighs. He loves how you whine for him, he can’t help but love it even more when there’s a bit of pain involved. He tries to go slow but he just can’t help it, your pretty little pussy takes him in too well. He loves how you dig your nails into his chest as you instinctually push against him, he loves how your whimpers echo in every corner of the room. He loves holding you close and telling you “just a little more, you can take it.”

[briarpatch-kids]

Let's talk mobility aids!

Canes

Canes are for when you need to take a little bit of weight off of one side of your body, need a little help with balance, or need a little extra stability when you walk. It's an easy mobility aid to find and get, and it's pretty easy to figure out how to use. Have the cane sized so the handle sits at wrist level, then hold it on the opposite side to the one that hurts. Match your cane strikes to the steps on the hurt side. It will hurt your arm, elbow, and shoulder sometimes, but having a properly sized cane will help.

Rollators

Rollators are kind of the "next step up" in support. They come with more restrictions, you get limited to ramps and stuff, but they're also the least restrictive wheeled mobility aid because they're light and easy to pick up and toss around. They also have a seat a lot of times and a basket so you don't need to carry stuff. They're for when you need a place to rest, something to lean on when you walk, better balance assistance than a cane, and less weight bearing than a cane. I also found that it helped me with fatigue quite a bit. There's two main kinds, euro style like the first, and regular like the second. There are other fancier ones but I'm covering the basics here.

Rollators are my favorite mobility aid and I've used everything from canes to a fancy high grade power chair. They're just the perfect balance of help and freedom. They provide so much support for how far they go.

Crutches

Arm crutches are pretty neat! They're a lot more ergonomic than a cane. In fact, some people use a single arm crutch as a cane. They distribute the weight a little better, so it's not all on your wrists, and they support you better than a rollator can. The major cons I found are that they take two hands to use so you can't carry much and I had a really hard time trying to learn to walk with them. A lot of people who use forearm crutches have other mobility aids and use the forearm crutches when they want to or need to walk.

Manual Wheelchairs

These are for when walking becomes more difficult than pushing a wheelchair. There's no weight being put on your legs and feet and depending on your needs, you can get really specific with your adaptations if you have a custom wheelchair verses a standard wheelchair. My first custom chair looked like a monster truck because i took in the woods and gravel, my second custom chair after I got sicker has a head rest, a backrest that holds me up, and a little electric box that I can attach that helps me push. The difference between getting a standard and custom wheelchair is dependent on how much money the user has, what kind of needs they have, and what kind of medical access they have. (One is not more "real" than the other.) I highly recommend getting a cushion for under your butt if you have a standard chair without a cushion, I used a standard full time for 6 months and a cushion made a huge difference.

Mobility scooters

Mobility scooters are for people who can't walk long distances, but can still walk with the help of a cane or unassisted. If you can walk around your house, but not really much else, a mobility scooter might be the aid for you! There's a lot of different styles and battery life lengths and handling abilities so try a few different scooters out if you can.

Powerchairs

Powerchairs come in a couple different types or "groups" depending on your needs. Group 1 is the kind of chair you're probably most familiar with. It's basically for someone who needs a powerchair to get around their house, the doctors, office, and grocery store. You can't do any custom seat cushions or anything, but it's for people who don't need it. Think of like... someone who can walk pretty okay still, it just hurts to walk or they're off balance or a little weak feeling. A lot of times more elderly people will use these, if you're more active look into group 2

Group two chairs are little more durable, a little more stable, sometimes you can switch the captains seats out for custom seating... They're what a full time powerchair user would use if they don't need specialty functions like tilt or recline. They also often have 6 wheels rather than 4 like the group 1 chairs have.

Group 3 powerchairs are reserved for specific diagnoses like muscular dystrophy, ALS, and other severe neurological and neuromuscular illnesses. These are also called "rehab" chairs because they're for making sure severely disabled people have quality of life. The tilt function is for pressure relief, though you can also get things like elevation so you can raise and lower your chair, and some of them can recline flat. There are other avenues of moving grade 3 power chairs beyond the joystick as well in case someone can't use their hands or doesn't have them. (Head controls, torso controls, and straw controls called sip and puff are alternatives.) They can go on a little worse terrain than group 1 and two chairs and go a little farther, but if they get stuck they weigh 350 lbs and it's awful.

There's a few other types of mobility aid that I don't know enough about, like ankle foot orthotics and gait trainers, but these are the basic "mobility aid" most people will come across.

If you use another type of mobility aid and want to educate people, add it on!!

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC X DP fic idea: Phantom's number 1 fan

Danny is used to his classmates cheering for him. Well, he's used to them cheering on his ghost side, but it's the same thing.

He's a small time celebrity in the eyes of Amity Park youth. Almost everyone as Casper High adores Phantom- even the A-listers.

Ironically enough, the A-listers are some of the few who claim to be in love with Phantom. Even Dash, after the quarter back publicly came out.

Almost all of them still pick on Danny, even now as seniors. He never quite fit in even after all these years. Still pushed into lockers, mocked by classmates and deemed the number one loser again and again.

He stopped trying to fit in years ago when he became a halfa and focused on being a hero. He's gotten better now, as ghosts are less likely to challenge him. Apparently, being able to beat Pariah Dark in single combat spooked many spirits.

He instead focuses on worldwide natural disasters. With the new power to create portals to the Ghost zone as a shortcut to any part of the world, he could jump to emergencies as simplyas walking through a door.

He took some field medic lessons from Frost Bite and was on his way.

He started with search and rescue during a Tsunami. Then earthquakes, tornadoes, and even lightning storms. His parents knew and were proud of him every time Phantom appear on TV. His friends encouraged him to pressure a medical career. Danny was seriously considering it.

No one besides those he loved knew he and Phantom were one in the same.

Life was good.

That is until one stormy night when Tim Drake came knocking. The other 17-year-old stood on his porch drenched to his socks, clutching a really well taken photot of Phantom and a manic glint in his eye.

"Can I have your autograph, Danny? Im your number one fan!"

Before Danny could even think of a response, Drake tilted forward, smacking face first on the ground.

If you were to ask Tim what was he thinking ge would say " I wasn't"

See, Tim had been one of the first Phantom rescued from the giant Tsunami that Riddler had unleashed on Gotham all those years ago. His heart had been the ghost ever since. And much like all other puzzles and mysteries, it didn't take Tim long to connect Phantom and Fenton.

Seeing as Danny Fenton wanted nothing to do with the Justice League or to join any other hero team he left him alone, admiring him from afar.

Then the mission Ra al Gul happened.

He had been running on fumes, and in Tim's sleep-deprived mind, the thought of stopping in Amity Park on the way back from a mission to ask for his long-time hero and crushes autograph was the perfect idea.

So he landed the batplane, switched in civilians and knocked on the door with his heart in his hand. And the three stab wounds on his back, his broken rib and black eye.

Thankfully Danny was willing to drag him inside for medical aid.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Gyomei Himejima x Male Reader who's a demon who was rehabilitated by Tamayo and one day met Gyomei and it was like love at first sight? And M/N has like a rope/belt like power similar to Daki's? And they wanna experiment with that?🤭

Experiments~ (Gyomei Himijima x demon male reader)~ ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

WC:. 2.2k

Tags binding, praises riding, no protection, soft sex (firm believer in Gyomei being a gentle giant), anal sex, size differences, belly bulging, creampies ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

A/N I’ve never written for a blind character so please excuse any errors! Sorry it took so long to write I hope you enjoy though <33

────────────୨ৎ─────────────

You were a demon. You favored Nezuko and Tamayo in the fact you didn’t follow nor submit to Muzan’s cruel plans and you still kept contact with your human side. That was what led you to meeting lady Tamayo and by default she managed to rehabilitate you over time. You eventually make yourself known to the core, wanting to help the greater cause by fighting against muzan and his demons with them.

The demon slayer corp didn’t trust you at all at first, I mean why would a demon of high status, no- one of Muzan’s most loyal switch sides and come to them and offer himself over?…well you did and master thought the only person fit to handle and keep tabs on you was none other than the stone Hashira Gyomei.

You were forced to stay in the stone estate with Gyomei, and occasionally Genya when he stopped by. Genya was more accepting of you than Gyomei at first being that Genya’s fighting style was him temporarily turning into a demon he was understanding

Genya was more open to the thought not all demons were bad. Gyomei on the other hand was still skeptical keeping his senses strong listening to you at night walking around the estate.

Gyomei would sense your blood demon art at night, he’d expect you to sneak off maybe hunt for food or run back to your master but you never did. You would use your blood demon art to grab things doing the most laziest things with them like opening doors grabbing a pillow that was too far out of reach,

he could tell what you were doing by the sounds of your belts and pillows ruffling. The large man might not have any sight but his other senses were heightened in every way.

Slowly over the months he’d ease his guard and stop holding his body ready like you were about to betray the core, he’d even swoon for you almost when he first heard your voice it made him question if you were really a demon because you sounded just like an angel to him.

Sadly your scent betrayed you showing to him you really were the demon that did such horrific crimes. The rehabilitation brought you close to Gyomei, and you spent most of your days together in the empty estate.

Present day the two of you have been together going close to a month and shockingly you two do have sex, one might think a religious and traditional man like Gyomei would wait for sex until marriage but nothing about his relationship with you was traditional I mean you were a demon and the two of you were both men but he didn’t seem to care.

“I’m bored Gyo?” You’d grumble all sprawled around in his lap like you were a king on a tanned flesh throne “must you lay like that on me [name]?” He’d sigh just reaching one hand down firm on your hip, his voice holding no true disdain having you in his lap

“yes I must!…and you know we could always pass time in other ways Gyomei?” You’d lean close standing on your knees in his lap now leaning into his ear whispering using your thumb to wipe the tears running down his cheeks with his eyes open glossed over as always unblinking and pale white.

“Always insisting sinful things to me, you really can be a from [name] pulling me into temptations with your binds..”his slightly red beneath his skin tracing his hands to your waistband with you straddling his lap in his room of the stone estate.

“Speaking of my binds….wanna use mine on you when you’re stretching me out. Bind you against me skin to skin while I ride you” you speak shamelessly nearly confident in his lap but he was totally flabbergasted, his body tense you could see red on the tips of his ears with a few hot tears pricking back down his cheek right where your thumb pressed wiping his cheek off again.

His large hands felt your pants around tracing and guiding them to the zipper making due with his lack of sight while you on the other hand let go of his cheek taking your hand down to his pants undoing his fly as he sits under you. With your belts coming out of your back wrapping around his waistband pulling them off softly before turning to blades cutting his boxers up to get his cock out

“you are such an eager demon [name]” his voice rang in the cool night of the estate with his cock hard pressed to his shirt with a pearl like bead of pre cum sitting on his tip, clearly sensitive pulsing eager for touch— which you were happy to give.

“You’re eager too Gyomei, don’t bother telling me different I feel it” you murmur retracting your binds for a moment to Scoot closer lifting your shirt over your head with your cock springing free when he can finally get your boxers off.

You crawl further in his lap sitting down on his cock with it pressed between your cheeks reaching above your crack making a sticky mess in your laps

“always feel so good, boy” he groans grabbing your hips with his teary eyes white and wide as always grinding his cock between your cheeks easily lifting you around like a boy toy in his lap making your binds react wrapping around his back tearing through his haori leaving marks in his skin unintentionally.

“Shit- didn’t mean to Gyo—“ you let out a sharp gasp hushed by him taking one hand off your hip keeping you firmly pressed to his cock reaching his hand up to the back of your head and shoving your face upwards leaning down eagerly kissing you into silence “it’s fine, not worried about it [name]”

He murmurs his tongue pushing past your lips into your mouth running against your cheeks pressing to your tongue making you huff using your binds to fully get his haori and shirt off with the sound of his golden buttons hitting the floor with your chest pressed to his leaving your cock weeping between your thighs pressing all leaky between your stomachs.

“Prep me already gyo..” you muffle out guiding his hand off your hip pulling your mouth off of his panting trying to catch your breadth before shoving two of his fingers down your throat “so warm baby” he speaks his teary face all red and flushed at the lewdly of what was happening with him only being sad his prayer beads weren’t around we hike his cock throbs between your cheeks producing more precum.

“I’m going, be patient or you aren’t getting anything but your own fingers” he finally broke away with a string of saliva his voice booming making a shiver run down your spine pouting pressing more to him feeling his large hand snake out of your mouth using the hand on your hip to lift you off his lap enough to push one finger inside you.

“Hm, you can’t do that to me” you shriek a little panicking with your rim puckering staying still in attempt to adjust to the feeling looking up at the blind Hashira with your binds all sharp and from wrapped around his muscular back holding his larger body to yours while your jaw slacks a little feeling him thrusting his finger in and out massaging your walls curling against your prostate before trying to prod his second finger in you.

“I can, and I will if you don’t get it together in my lap” he hums now scissoring your rim open using the mix of spit on his fingers and precum from where his cock rested between your cheeks to open you up. His fingers rub against your bundle of nerves building up a hot pit in your stomach and you think he knew that too because right as your cock perked up against his stomach he pulled his fingers back out.

“Want you to cum from me, need to know my cock was what pushed you over” his hands trail lifting you up by your hips making your binds lose grip on his back with your hands holding his muscular shoulders while he nudges his cock head against your rim. “Feels like you’re ripping me in half Gyo~” your air fled your lungs leaving you exhaling harshly feeling a burn shoot through your body but any tears quickly heal from your regeneration sealing yourself around him bottoming out inside you leaving a outline in your stomach.

“I bet you look so beautiful sitting on me like this, wish I could see your body. I’d kiss it up in every way” his large arms move on your body grabbing around your waist holding you slowly starting to jerk his hips upwards from beneath you making your rim stretch further and engulf his full length feeling his balls pressed firmly to your cheeks while you dig your nails into his shoulders straddling his large lap.

“I- know you would gyo-mei~” you squeak out, your muscles tensing reaching forward kissing him nearly eating his face off moving your lips against his slipping your hand off his shoulder wrapping around the back of his neck with your binds all slithered around the two of you holding you two skin to skin. His hands hold onto hour hips bouncing you in time with his movements with your thighs on either sides of his hips filling the room with small plap’s of your asscheeks smushing to his balls getting stretched with your cock bobbing back and forth tapping your stomach with your tip an angry red.

“Mh- [name] you’re clenching me so tight, boy” a soft strained sigh leaves his lips starting to pick his pace up holding your hips down firmly groaning against your lips pulling back only to suck in air before smushing his lips back on yours rutting his hips upwards driving into you with his cock stretching you out, his veins dragging along your inner walls while you hold your arms around his neck pulling your mouth off his and shoving his face in your pecs gripping his black hair.

“Just suck em” you moan your Adam’s apple bobbing like your cock while your binds dig at the skin in his back leaving marks from how tight you hold him to you. Gyomei’s cock pushing and nudging into your sweet spot over and over practically bullying your prostate making you feel its pulse while his face buries into your pecs biting at one of your nipples rotating between sucking and biting with his tears dampening your s/c skin.

“I can tell you’re getting close [name], you’re clenching up more- cum for me baby” he murmurs pressing sloppy kisses over your perked up buds holding your hips tighter making the bulge in your tummy bigger feeling a burning pain build up inside you from being fucked and spread open on him so long. One hand in Gyomei’s hair and the other holding his shoulder firm rocking your hips downwards into his thrusts trying your hardest to feel him deeper and deeper inside you with your belts tightening even more erupting a moan from the larger man.

“Oh fuck-oh I’m gonna—! I’m cumming~!” You mewl out shoving his face in your pecs harder arching your back up straight with your hips rolling erratically clenching and clamping as tight as you can around him breaking his skin with your other hand digging nails in his shoulder with your cock stiffening nearly jumping forward shooting sperm in its own groaning dropping your head forward on top of his when your cock shots a final rope of cum onto his stomach.

“That’s a good boy, gonna make me cum won’t you?” His chin resting on your rib cage blowing on your sensitive peaks rocking his hips forwards into you slowing down going in deeper and longer thrusts trying to let your rim milk him while he hits his own climax, the muscles under your hand tensing up letting you know the fire in his loin is bursting hot feeling the first spurt enter you making you shiver your eyes half lidded getting filled up.

“So warm” you coo out in his lap feeling your bulging tummy bloat up some with your binds slowly loosing around him letting him go as they retract back inside your back with your regeneration healing up your once broken skin. “Did I go over board [name]?.. how are you feeling?” He’d murmur lifting his head from your chest with a serious expression on his face needing to hear your verbal words not being able to see your reaction.

His tears flow freely down his cheeks making you sigh in his lap reaching your hand up from his hair and off his shoulder wiping his cheeks mumbling “I’m great Gyo, you were great.” Leaning in with a kiss on his cheek sitting still on his cock letting out a little hiss when you lift yourself off his cock feeling his semen slipping from your now loosened rim leaving your cheeks all slick when he grabs your waist and lays back pulling you right on top of his chest holding you laying on his mat in his personal bedroom of the stone estate letting you pull a blanket up.

“In the morning I’ll make sure to draw you a bath inside the estate, I know your beautiful skin is sensitive to the sunlight” he spoke in a soft tone to you holding you to him in a comfortingly tight regard rubbing at the back of your head and if it wasn’t for you being a demon he’d personally take you to the saunas but he knew that wasn’t possible with your inability to stand in the sun, doesn’t mean he still won’t give you the great aftercare you deserve.

[hoshifighting]

seventeen members using the safe word/asking to stop

— WARNINGS: smut, overwhelming, safeword.

seungcheol’s the type to push his limits just to prove something—to himself, to you. he loves the power, the dominance. but tonight, something’s different. it’s the way your nails dig into his back, your teeth grazing his neck, the way you’ve taken control this time. he's breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temples, and for once, he’s not sure he can keep up. you’re pushing him further, teasing, taunting, and he’s at the edge. then you hear it, breathless and shaky: it’s a phrase you both agreed on. it’s his way of saying he’s reached his limit, that he needs you to stop. it’s rare—seungcheol rarely backs down—but when he does, you know he’s serious. he’s not angry, just… overwhelmed. after he just wants to feel close to you, to remind himself that he’s safe, that you’re there for him. it’s a side of him not everyone gets to see, but you do—and that’s what makes it special.

jeonghan breathes out the word, falling from his lips like a prayer. it’s not loud, almost like he’s embarrassed to admit it, but you catch it. you know the moment he says it, he’s serious. jeonghan likes to push limits, but when he asks for mercy, it means he’s at his breaking point. you pull back, easing the pressure, and you can see the relief in his eyes. after that, he’d want you to cuddle up to him, stroke his hair, tell him how good he was. he thrives on your praise, your affection. that’s what he craves after using the safe word.

joshua when you’re feeling a bit more daring, pushing him a little further than usual. he’s tries to keep up, tries to match your pace, but you can tell it’s getting to be too much. his hands grip your hips, his breath coming in short gasps. he’s holding on, but just barely. you push him a little more, just to see how far he can go. and then, he says it. a signal that he needs you to slow down. joshua’s not one to use the safe word often—he’s got a high tolerance for pleasure, for pain, but when he does, it’s because he’s genuinely reached his limit. you stop immediately, your movements softening. his eyes flutter open, and there’s a small, grateful smile on his lips. he’s still a bit dazed, but you can tell he’s thankful you listened. after using the safe word, he’d want you to whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

junhui’s got this quiet strength about him, always calm. but there’s a point where even he can’t keep going, it’s in the middle of everything when he suddenly stiffens, his breath catching as he says the safe word. it’s not a word he uses lightly, and you can tell he’s been holding on as long as he could. he feels a wave of guilt, like he’s somehow weak for not being able to push through, but all he really wants is to feel safe, to know that you won’t judge him for needing a break. whants u to tell him that it’s okay, that you’re proud of him for knowing his limits.

hoshi sometimes, in the middle of everything—when you’ve got him on his back, thighs trembling, and his breath’s caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan—he’ll feel that edge creeping up on him. the pleasure starts to blur with something else, something overwhelming. that’s when he squeezes your wrist, voice strained and breathy as he says the safeword with a broken “please” it takes a lot for him to get there, to use it—he’s stubborn like that, always wanting to push through. but when he does, he needs you to ground him. he’d want you to slow down, whisper something soothing, until he’s back to himself.

wonwoo doesn't think that the safeword is = stop. he’ll murmur it, almost too quietly, wanting you only to slow down, not to stop. but sometimes you to pull back immediately, so he tells you to keep going, and you know you need to go calmly this time. he likes it when you switch gears, turning those intense moments into something slow, gentle. you can keep doing your think, but this time maybe holding his wide shoulders, running your fingers through his hair, it makes the tension drains out of him.

woozi’s got this focus that’s almost laser-like when you’re together. he feels all of the details, and sensations very easily. but sometimes, that sensations builds and builds, until it’s too much—like he’s being suffocated by his own drive. it’s subtle at first—the way his moans fades, how his responses get shorter. then, he whispers the safe word, almost like he’s embarrassed to admit he’s reached his limit, “red.” he hates feeling like he can’t handle it, like he’s somehow let you down, and the guilt gnaws at him. would like your fingers intertwined as he breathes through it. he’s not biiiiig on words, but that type of closeness helps him feel like he’s in control again.

minghao’s deeply in tune with himself, knowing exactly when that edge is coming up too fast. when it does, when he feels like he’s about to tip over, he’ll say, “no no no, i need a break baby,” his voice steady, but with an underlying tension. minghao’s not afraid to admit when it’s too much. once he uses it, he needs you to bring things back to earth, grounding him in the present. he likes it when you talk him down, your voice low and soothing, as you both come down from the high. maybe you’d sit together in silence, his head on your shoulder, as the storm inside him calms.

mingyu likes the control, thrives on it, but tonight something's off. maybe it's the stress he’s been under or the fact that his mind's been elsewhere. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens a bit too hard, his movements a bit too rough. when he finally chokes out the safe word, it's more like a plea than a command, “stop.” he’s breathing heavy, almost panicked, and it hits you that he’s been holding back for your sake. his tolerance is high, too high maybe, and he feels guilty—guilty that he let it go this far, guilty that he’s the one who had to stop it. he won’t say it, but what he needs now is to just hold you, to feel your warmth against him without the pressure of being the strongest one. like you because you don’t push him for answers; instead, you let him pull you close, wrapping yourself around him until his breathing steadies.

seokmin its like a window for you, you can see through him, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes, or when his mind its perturbed, the way his movements become slower, less sure. he’s trying to keep up, but there’s a moment when he finally says the safe word, and it’s almost like a weight lifted off his shoulders, but the shame quickly follows, like he should have been able to go further. but what he really wants is just to be with you, wants you to look at him with your concerned eyes, and kiss all of the pressure from him.

seungkwan always tries to give you what he thinks you want. so he holds back, not wanting to disappoint you. when he finally uses the safe word, it’s soft, almost like he’s afraid of it, “yellow.” he feels like he’s failed somehow, that he should have been able to keep going, and the regret is immediate. but more than anything, he needs your comfort, for you to show him that you still love him just as much, even when “he can’t be everything you need”. you take his hand, squeezing it gently, and spend the rest of the night reminding him of just how much he means to you, but what really grounds him, is to know that you love him endlessly.

vernon is another one who has a high tolerance, enjoying the slow build-up, the way you push him just enough to keep things interesting. but every once in a while, it catches up to him—his mind starts to spin, and everything feels like it’s moving too fast. that’s when he’ll quietly murmur for you to stop, almost like he’s in a trance. it’s not often he gets to that point, but when he does, he needs you to slow things down, to help him find his center again. vernon would want you to be gentle, maybe with some soft touches but not tight hugs/holds, something light, is what brings him back.

chan’s the type to keep his feelings close to his chest, rarely letting anyone see when he’s struggling. but now, he’s not as sure of himself as usual, and he hates when he’s not feeling confident during sex. when he finally says the safe word, it’s almost a relief, “blue.” his voice small. and it’s a rare admission from him, and you know he feels guilty, like he should’ve been able to handle more. he needs you to be patient with him, maybe help him stretch his arms would help him, a wet sloppy kiss, and he’s back to himself, ready to take on the world again.

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 5 - Meet The Adams Family

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

The first thing you’d done when you woke up, still somehow in the Wayne manor, was pull out not-your phone and check the date. When it tells you that you are not, in fact, in some weird version of a time loop, you feel some measure of relief. The second thing you do is look your own damn name up on Google. There were over 3 million results. You have a Wikipedia page. If that hadn’t made you want to gag, the press from last night had you bumbling your way into the ensuite bathroom and puking into the toilet.

It’s still sitting on the bathroom floor, nauseous and achy and sweaty, your mouth washed out but still tasting foul, that you continue your research.

It’s just as you had suspected, your family was dead. Still dead. Well, shit. In the light of day, you supposed that made more sense. That there was no real reason to assume otherwise. You hadn’t for most of yesterday, but as soon as you’d thought that maybe there was a chance, your hopes had been dashed. Which was good, rip the bandaid off and all.

It was good. Things were good. They were fine, you were fine. You really wish you were a better liar.

Again you wash your mouth out. Root around the cabinets for some medical-grade mouthwash, do it again, and then you throw yourself into the shower. Again. You notice the soap smells like whoever’s clothes you stole. Refreshing and awakening, that mint and earth again. You think you can detect something floral in it too. It’s still masculine, but…

Wow, you are such a freak! You put down the fucking soap and manage to resist the urge to slam your head into the tiles. Your headache was bad enough already.

When you leave the bathroom, you glance at the door, and then down at your towel. Guess you’re stealing some more apparel. You find a Superman shirt, give it a judging glance, and then pick out a black T-shirt with ‘The Beatles’ across the front, and some sweatpants. You have to roll up the pant legs so you don’t trip and fall flat on your face.

One hand scrolling through Twitter and TikTok and Reddit and every single piece of social media you could find, getting the people’s source of news and you get the high overlords’ one when you turn on the huge TV attached to the wall. The remote kind of confuses you at first, but you manage to find the good ol’ Gotham news channel.

Immediately, you’re greeted by your miserable mascara-streaked face. You turn the TV off. You take a deep breath. Turn it back on. Luckily it’s not just you getting your private moment of trauma blasted open in the media. Your party had been filled with Gotham’s elite, after all. You weren’t the only rich idiot left crying by the side of the road.

You weren’t the only one who had to suffer. There had been twenty-eight casualties, in total. A small amount, considering the man behind the deaths. The Joker wasn’t known for his cleanliness. You tell yourself that, and yet still, you can’t make them just numbers. They’d been standing right next to you, after all. All in the same boat, all waiting for the axe to swing, secretly hoping you’re the one who lives to the next day. Only one of the party guests had been shot, and that’s because you think they’d personally pissed off the Joker. That’s what Twitter says, anyway. There were multiple video recordings of the altercation, and it didn’t look like he’d been the smartest banana in the bunch. The TV is a lot sweeter on the dead soul.

You feel sorry for all the dead. You still don’t think this rich heir should be the face you see, though. When you check his name, you find several forgotten assault cases. Assault, rape, just like that disappearing bastard had tried to do to you. That female janitor you’d seen shot had done more for this city than that guy ever had.

Did her family know? Did she have a family? Someone to mourn her? You’d never thought about that before. How many people out there wouldn’t have anyone to even remember them?

It’s none of your business, in the end.

After a whiles more research, you switch the TV off and tuck your cracked phone into the sweatpants. You know where your mother’s grave is, on the west side of the estate. Wikipedia knew all, which was now kind of creepy to you as it knew all about you as well. Really, you couldn’t believe it. Your mother, buried with the Waynes? You’d always thought she should find someone new, someone who’d appreciate her, unlike your father who had dipped as soon as Sam was born.

You couldn’t even remember the guy. Still, you remembered that he’d smelled bad and made your Mum do everything, and was just generally all around the worst choice for a husband.

But, Jesus Christ, Bruce Wayne? Absolute insanity. You had no idea how the two of them would’ve even met. Let alone fall in love and get married. Your mother was one of the loveliest women on earth but… they had absolutely nothing in common, other than having troublesome kids. And you hadn’t seen her getting lovey-dovey with the other PTA mums.

You walk out of the room you’ve borrowed and into the hallway. In the light of day, the Wayne manor is much less creepy, and you can find it in yourself to appreciate the antique space. Warm sunlight falls over dark oak furniture, illuminating your bare feet as you walk along the Persian rug. Your fingers trail along all the tiny little decorations, some annoying part of you demanding you leave traces of yourself behind. Your fingerprints dirty an old clock, a golden candelabra, a lamp and a tiny spinning globe.

You might’ve gotten lost in a place this huge if you couldn’t hear people’s voices floating down the halls. They were too far away for you to be able to tell what they were saying, but you could still hear them. They’re to the west, so you’re definitely going to have to go past them.

You follow the voices and eventually come to a stop in a hallway. You can smell food. Good, real food. The type that makes your instant-ramen-powered body salivate. The people are in the kitchen, right around the corner. You duck your head and quickly sneak past the mostly closed doorway. On the other side, you pause, your curious self unable to leave just yet.

“She needs help,” Bruce says, and you mentally curse. Balls. You didn’t want to hear this. You guess this was instant karma for snooping. Maybe they weren’t talking about you?

Why did that sound very unlikely…

“She went through a lot last night,” he continues, which, well, yes, you did go through a lot, “And he said that she saw a woman get shot right in front of her. It makes sense if she doesn’t want to talk yet.”

He? Who’s he? Who ratted you out? Wait, dumb question, the four other witnesses who saw the janitor get shot. You were still pretty sure the Waynes weren’t supposed to know that, but everybody knew those GCPD pigs were always just a dollar away from whatever you wanted them to do. It’s not surprising that the Waynes know details only the police should know at the moment.

…It is a bit disappointing, though. You chose to have hope in them, that they’d gotten that information legally. Your fatal obsession with the Waynes wasn’t going to disappear after one miserable party. You wished it would.

“She was acting strange before that,” Timothy Jackson Drake’s smooth voice drifts from the kitchen. You were still a little starry-eyed over him, which was… bad, you think. It’d definitely make whatever relationship the two of you had been forced into a whole lot more difficult. It did not need to be any more difficult.

“Are you accusing her of something?” Bruce Thomas Wayne’s voice is gravelly in comparison, angry, maybe. Also, ‘accusing’? What could he even be accusing you of? It was pretty obvious you weren’t capable of anything nefarious, you were far too stupid for that. You were a plastic bag drifting along the Gotham river, barely able to affect which direction you flowed in.

“God no. And I definitely wouldn’t do it with her listening, that’d be rude.”

Your breath hitches, and you push off from the wall. Busted, damn. Your face feels unbelievably hot. As you leave, you can hear Mr Wayne scolding his adopted son. You walk until you can’t hear their voices anymore, and then a little further, finding an exit door.

You stumble out onto a stone staircase, probably a servants’ one in the olden days. You move down it, hand gripping the railing. You’re barely conscious of where you’re going. There’s a path that leads away from the stone manor and further into the estate, and you follow it. When you spot a small gated area, with stone obelisks and angel statues, you veer off the path and onto the grass.

Hissing out a breath, it’s only now you realise you went outside without any shoes on. Your toes curl in the cold, wet grass. It’s a miserable feeling, and you want to walk right back inside. And then you think about the awkward conversation waiting for you, take a breath and keep going. The gates swing open easily under your hand, the golden embossed ‘W’ glinting in the light.

A guardian angel stands before you. Its stone face is disapproving, glaring down at you from above. ‘Interloper,’ it calls you, but you move past it without pausing. It’s pretty obvious which graves are the new ones and which are the old ones. They’re all clean and well-kept, but the ones to the left have dates going back hundreds of years, and the ones to the right only decades. Your eyes follow the rows of graves. Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne…

Your breath whistles out of you, nearly muffled by the grey morning wind.

And your mother. She has a different last name, now another Wayne. Your siblings don’t, which makes sense. You’re surprised to find many of your extended family also in this graveyard. Your grandmother. Your uncle and aunt. A few of your cousins.

It’s cold this morning, and you’re out here with only a thin T-shirt on. Shivering, you rub your palms against your bare arms. It doesn’t do much. Still, you don’t want to go inside yet. Instead, you crouch in front of Sam’s grave, eyes reading the tiny epitaph. It’s not the one you wrote.

‘Beloved Son and Brother.’

Simple, clean-cut, formal… unfamiliar, you suppose. Yours had been much more flowery, ‘All the colour in the world is gone without you’. It was a bit silly, but you’d never said you were a poet. You’d just known you’d wanted something that represented them, if poorly.

Sam was a beloved son and brother. But that wasn’t who he chose to be. He liked colours. He’d change his favourite every other day, so he liked everything rainbow. It made it easier to choose which one he’d like next, he said. You were always buying him more and more coloured pencils because he’d wear them all down to the tips, he dyed the cat a bright red headache, much to your mother’s horror, and considered it his personal job to make every single birthday, christmas, and easter card. He’d paint on the walls in washable markers, and you’d often been the one to volunteer to help him get it all down. In school, he always had the best art project out of the entire class, even if you were slightly biased.

He was a colourful kid. He wasn’t… a plain grey tombstone. Nothing to help remember him, because you were always losing more and more of their precious memories.

The others had similarly impersonal graves. Just what they were, not who. Mother, sister. Nothing that spoke of how they’d lived their lives, what the world had lost when they’d died. It was… you didn’t think it was right. It was a disaster, really. Even when you’d had to rely on the Wanye Foundation donations, you’d managed a better resting place than this.

You suppose you’d never gotten them into the Wayne family’s personal graveyard, though. That was a bit of an upgrade, you guess.

“You need to come back inside. You’re worrying my father.”

“Jesus Christ!” you shriek, leaping backward. Your foot catches on one of the cobblestones, and you end up tipping back farther than you mean to, your ass bruising against the ground. You bump another gravestone, and there’s a horrible moment where it gives a little and you think it’s going to knock over.

It doesn’t. A shining miracle on your day.

From your slightly wet seat on the ground, you look up, finding one such Damian Al Ghul-Wayne. His towering height is the first thing you notice, second his stunning emerald green eyes. Both were incredibly shocking in their own ways, but his height really was almost dizzying. Perfect brown skin and a stylish 'long on the top, short on the sides’ black haircut, paired with the sort of face some European model might have, all come together to make sure you feel as pathetic as possible. His posh-looking outfit doesn’t help.

Neither does the fact he just watches you. He doesn’t even pretend to bend over to help you up. Which you’re sort of grateful for, honestly. It’d just make you more embarrassed. You didn’t know if you could hold the hand of your celebrity crush and… well, be normal. Pretend to be normal. You weren’t doing a very good job of it anyway.

You have to wonder, which was the worst introduction? The drunk, the bloody, or the one where you fell on your ass? God, you really are screwing this all the way up. You wonder how you’re inevitably going to make it even worse. There’s a part of you that desperately doesn’t want to meet any of the other Waynes, even as another part of you is screaming that it needs to.

If they knew they had a fangirl in their graveyard, you’re sure they’d kick you out. That was why you were lying about everything, not because you had intimacy issues.

Stop thinking, you idiot! You’re only making things more difficult for yourself with all your worrying and fretting. And maybe you should get off the ground, you looked stupid. You push to your feet, wiping your dirtied hands on the sweats.

He still doesn’t say anything when you stand, still just staring at you. His open staring is far too intimidating, so you scrounge for something to say.

“Your father? You- Is he alright?” you stammer over your words, giving Damian Wayne an awkward smile. He doesn’t return it, instead canting his head towards one of the windows.

You look toward where Damian Wayne gestured to, find nothing but an empty window frame, and then back to the ridiculously tall man. You swear, the guy had grown like a bean pole. He had to be something ridiculous, like 6’5, or maybe more. You were fairly certain you’d been taller than him at twelve, or thirteen, whenever it was he was first introduced to the world as Damian Wayne. Now, now… not so much.

“There’s nobody in there?” you ask, like you’re questioning your sanity. You are.

“My father’s shy,” He says, coolly shrugging one shoulder.

What. Bruce Wayne? Shy? Was he joking or something?

Damian Wayne stares down at you with narrowed green eyes, and dark brows in a harsh frown. His arms are crossed over his rich kid sweater, shiny black shoes tapping against the cobbles. That’s not the face of someone who makes jokes, you think.

You swallow, mind whirring as you try desperately to fix this conversation, “Right. Okay. I’ll… I’ll come back inside, then. Sorry for bothering you guys.”

He keeps staring at you. He doesn’t seem bothered.

“Sorry for bothering him?” you correct.

Damian gives one slow, cat-like blink of his eyes, and then turns with a tsk and walks away. It takes you a moment to realise you’re meant to follow him. It takes you even longer to actually catch up with him because he’s so fucking tall.

On TV he didn’t look this tall. You feel kind of betrayed, which is weird.

As you’re walking along, getting closer back to the manor, a stick or something pokes you in the foot. You curse, grabbing your foot. Thankfully you don’t start bleeding or something. You’d already be tracking dirt all over the inside of the impeccable space, you didn’t want to bring blood in as well. It takes a moment for you to realise the sound of Damian’s footsteps crunching in the grass has stopped, and you glance up.

He’s staring right at you again. He looks even less impressed with you, raising an eyebrow and mouth ticking downward. You put your foot down and tuck your hands behind your back in a very obvious anxious display.

“You went outside not wearing any shoes?” Damian Wayne asks, incredulous.

“I was… yeah, I forgot to,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Not your best moment, but you weren’t really having any of those today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Maybe you should stop thinking about that, actually.

“That’s disgusting,” The young Wayne sneers, and then turns and gives you his shoulder.

You think your heart maybe cracks a little. Well, they do say to never meet your idols. Maybe whoever wrote that quote had you in mind specifically, because now you were in… this situation. Ex-step-sister. If that was a thing. Your Wikipedia page said that you said that a lot, very insistent that you had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes.

…It didn’t really look like you had nothing to do with the Waynes, from an outsider's perspective. Which obviously didn’t make any sense, since you were… you. You were not an outsider, not anymore.

This was too complicated. You needed a coffee. With like, so much sugar it’ll make you bounce from the walls.

Damian strides up the side entrance’s staircase and through the door, leaving it open for you to follow through. You hesitate at the doorway, looking over your shoulder to the graveyard. The statue calls you names in the distance, and although you feel like a stranger who doesn’t belong here, you manage to step back into the house.

You force yourself to walk through the hallway and into the kitchen, fists clenched tight at your side and your shoulders bunched up to your ears. Bruce Thomas Wayne, Timothy Jackson Drake, and the butler from earlier. Damian Al Ghul Wayne steps around the trio, picking some drink from the counter and moving to sit at the dining table at the edge of the room. There’s an open book on the table that he starts flicking through, and well, apparently that’s the end of your first conversation with the youngest Wayne.

You did… well, alright might be pushing it. You're still going to say you did alright.

Tim Drake gives you a sweet smile, catching your attention. The silky raven hair of his heart-shaped fringe falls over his beautiful, pale face, and for a moment there you totally forget that he’d called you out earlier like that. Which was just, such an odd thing to do. His hand lifts to scratch at the buzz cut under the floppy strands of hair. The movement mesmerises you. You look away from his sky blue eyes, very quickly realising they’re robbing you of the few remaining brain cells you have. And you need those, damn it. Especially because you’d already made the decision to hide from all your problems like a baby. Negative, negative…

“How’re you doing today?” Tim asks you, giving you a friendly greeting. It’s a welcome olive branch.

“I’m good,” you lie like you breathe, eyes glancing around the space. Bruce Wayne has his phone out and a mug of coffee in his hands. He sips from the cup, his focus swallowed by the tiny screen. You glance back over to Damian Wayne. Huh, it really does run in the family.

Your neck prickles, and you glance back at Tim again. You get a brief vision of his tired, unsmiling expression, and then it’s back to the angelic and gentle smile. You smile back at him, a wretched, awful twisting of the lips that you hope doesn’t look like a grimace.

Tim’s smile turns into a grin. It’s really too pretty and makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Damn it all, look away!

“Would you like some breakfast, young miss? I’m afraid we’ve run out of pancakes, but I’d be happy to make some more for you,” the butler says in an awfully familiar British accent. You think you know this person, but you can not remember from where. Shit. Your memory was bad on the best of days, much less after… after an event like last night.

Anyway, the food from earlier had been pancakes. Despite the delicious scent, you really didn’t want to make him make any more food for you. You felt like you were intruding as it was.

“Do you have any toast, or… cereal?” you suggest instead, wondering if rich people even bother with cereal. The butler chuckles, and you think, ‘Oh, yeah, probably not’.

“We have both, miss. Master Grayson has a particular fondness for cereal, in fact,” he informs you, which, oh, cool. You did in fact know that, you stalker you. You’d totally forgotten about that weird fact or the weird fact that you knew that weird fact. Dick Grayson has an Instagram where he posts reviews of different cereals, which of course you have notifications on for.

“It’s more of an obsession,” Tim says, resting his palm in his hand as he… continues to stare at you. Nobody else thinks his ogling is strange, so you try to ignore it as well. Try is the choice word.

“I like cereal too. It’s normal,” you say in defence of Dick, a natural and instinctual urge.

And apparently, the fact that you like cereal is fucking shocking, judging from the open-mouth looks the group gives you. Oh no, you’re supposed to hate him, right? You’re supposed to hate them all, actually. What had you called him on your phone? Something about being annoying and a dickhead?

Swallowing your inner scream, you move around the counter and towards the cupboards. Whatever, they’ll have to deal with this new and improved version of you, which didn’t despise everyone in the room. Along with being a terrible liar, you were also pretty bad at keeping secrets.

You don’t want to think about that, so instead you turn to Alfred.

“So,” you start, “Can I see your cereal collection?” you ask, like a totally normal person. Man, this cupboard’s looking pretty head-smashable right now.

This family has more tact than yours did, because they all manage to put their eyes back to what they were doing and pretend you weren’t acting really, really out of character. Rich people. They’re good at overlooking the crazy.

“Of course,” the butler clears his throat, “In here, you’ll find Master Dick’s collection-” score! Not another fan can claim this right, “-and in the fridge a carton of milk. Are you sure I couldn’t serve it for you, miss? I understand you might still be a little…”

His voice trails off. Little what?

He glances at the others and then leans in close like he’s going to tell you a secret. Behind a hand, he whispers, “Hungover.”

Ah. Well, yes, but you were a big girl who could make her cereal, even on hangover days. Kind of embarrassing it was that obvious, though. You were usually better at hiding how much of a mess you were.

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” you say, and the butler nods and backs off. You’re pretty sure at this point that he was the one who called you yesterday morning, but you still couldn’t quite recall his name. When you were out of sight, you’d check your phone for his contact information.

See? You could do this. Stealthy.

As you start perusing through the cereal options, Tim gets up from his spot by the counter and comes to stand next to you at the breakfast bar. He heads straight to the coffee machine, and you glance at it longingly.

It’s one of those cafe-quality fancy espresso makers, with an Italian name embossed in silver on the top. Tim manipulates the machine like a master, which you’re very jealous of because it might as well be alien technology to you. You miss your shitty drip coffee, at least that dingy little machine was loyal to you. Better than George.

“Coffee?” Tim Drake offers, glancing at you. Ah, the starry eyes are back. While Damian Wayne had been a mildly disappointing introduction, Mr. Drake was just reinforcing your celebrity worship. And of course, because your brain works against you, his offer reminds you of the daydreams you’d had on your first twenty-first birthday. Coffee shop au real person fiction- a new low, even for you.

Flustered, you look up at the ceiling. The old mansion is decorated in every single available corner, the plaster above spreading across the entire surface with delicate filigree and pretty curling patterns. It’s gorgeous, absolutely entrancing. That’s what you tell yourself at least.

“Please,” you say, your voice just the slightest bit too quiet. He hears you anyway.

It’s surprisingly domestic. Of course, you don’t know any of these people past face value and Wired YouTube interviews, but… it’s quite indulgent. This is sort of your dream, isn’t it? A full house of people enjoying their morning together. Peaceful bird song drifting in through open windows. The comfort of being around people you trust, not having to perform or put on a show. Well, you are very much putting on a show right now. It’s the thought that counts, or whatever.

“What would you like in it? We have sugar, milk, oat milk, and I like having a few syrups on hand,” Tim chatters excitedly, listing off the different ingredients he has on offer. Your poor ass stares at his rich one, and you are very rudely reminded these people live in different tax brackets than you.

Who the fuck had coffee syrups in their house? You could barely afford the little treats of caramel syrup you get every couple of months. The disappearance of the middle class was one you had witnessed personally.

You rattle off a very basic, bland order. Tim looks sort of disappointed in you which… well, you could be a coffee snob. You just didn’t have the time, usually. A flat white kept you going through the day, you didn’t need anything else. And so, Tim hands you a very bland coffee, and it is god sent. You can’t imagine how good it would be if you had mustered up your courage and asked for some caramel syrup.

Huh, you could be a coffee snob. You could be anything you wanted, really. And your first thought is being a coffee snob. Good God.

“Are you going to be staying?“ Bruce Wayne asks, immediately putting you on the spot. You weren’t ready for this, you were thinking about the coffees you could buy. Oh no, you really aren’t ready for this.

“At least for now, right?” Tim Drake says, just making it all the more stressful. You let out an awkward chuckle, fingers tight around your drink.

“Oh, I don’t want to be an inconvenience-”

Damian Wayne slams his mug down on the table, so hard a crack splinters up its side. He picks the cup up, strides across the kitchen, narrowed green eyes meeting yours for a second, and then he dumps the cup in a secret rubbish can. He murmurs an apology to the butler and then is out of the room.

Okay, well, you certainly feel like an inconvenience.

The butler clears his throat, and says, “Please forgive young master Damian. He’s been having a difficult time recently, I hope you can understand.”

And you think, ‘bitch, a difficult time?! He’s not the one who almost died last night!’ but what you say is, “Of course, I completely understand. I don’t want to bother him anymore so I’d really like to leave today.”

Mr. Wayne laces his fingers together, blue eyes giving you an assessing look.

“Stay for the day, and you can leave tonight. I want to make sure you’re truly alright,” he eventually says, and the mere presence of the man has you yielding to his commands. Didn’t really matter you were an adult who’d managed to survive this long on your own, you were listening to the big scary guy when he told you what to do.

Well, that’s that! You make your cereal and have a very quiet breakfast. You can’t tell if they’re being quiet because you’re here, or if mornings are usually like this. You hope they’re usually like this. Once you’ve finished your very nice cereal (one of the highest rated on Dick’s Instagram) you place the bowl by the sink. You want to wash it, but when you ask Alfred he gives you a look like you kicked his dog. Okay, you’ll just go then.

You’re about to sneak away, when you realise Tim’s staring at you… again…? But this time he seems quite focused on your clothing. His eyes follow the double lines on the side of your sweatpants, before settling on the Beatles logo on your shirt. He hums at it. Raises his brows.

“I’m sorry, I borrowed this because I didn’t have any other clothes. Is there something wrong with me wearing this?” you ask, and then experience a moment of horror, “This doesn’t belong to you, does it?”

“Hmm?” Tim chirps, “Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s not mine.”

And then he turns away from you in a very clear dismissal. Nice, you really wanted to go hide for an hour or two. With one last awkward wave to Bruce Thomas Wayne, you scurry out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom you’d started thinking of as yours. You need to figure out how you're going to handle all this, and you're going to do it alone. Maybe with some dessert, if you can find it. You wouldn't say you think better with sugar running in your veins, but it definitely makes you more willing to deal with the bullshit that is your life. Hopefully it'd work in your new one, too.

-

Tim listens to your retreating footsteps, waiting till you’re far enough away to begin talking to Bruce. Humans were creatures of habit, so you’d probably be going back to the same room you slept in last night. He thinks Damian and him were the only ones who noticed whose shirt you were wearing, B’s off his game today. You’ve really managed to mess him up, to Tim’s delight.

“See? Dames was totally fine with her being here,” Tim says, cheerily enjoying his youngest sibling’s suffering. Bruce sighs, witheringly, lifting his hand to rub against the headache he always has. He’s probably noticed the excited, slightly fanatic gleam that’s entered into Tim’s eyes.

It was sort of obvious. This was all so exciting! You’d come back, sporting absolutely none of the defensive vitriol you usually have, and ate breakfast together. You took a coffee out of Tim’s hands. You’d willingly spoken to the devil, who everybody in the family knew hated you as much as you hated him, and even more than that-

You’d spoken to Bruce. Tim was sporting the idea that you’d gotten head trauma, at this point in time.

“Okay, fine. You get the mission, but-” Tim has to resist the urge to clap his hands together like a gleeful child “-but no extra cameras. I’m serious, Tim, if I find out you’ve invaded her privacy just after she’s starting to warm up to us again-”

“She wouldn’t know,” Tim complains, cutting the Bat off with a roll of his eyes.

“She’s smarter than you’d think,” Bruce shakes his head. Tim has to disagree, after the catastrophe that was last night. Unless of course, you were just playing with them all. So many options, it’s dizzying.

“We’ll shelve that argument for later. So, I want full control of the case, and in turn, I’ll do another two weeks as CEO,” Tim waves off Bruce’s complaints, going straight into haggling. The CEO position was tossed between the two of them like a hot potato, and it was one of Tim’s favourite bargaining tools.

“I am absolutely not agreeing to that, a month and nothing less.”

“This is why half your children don’t talk to you, but sure, whatever. Chase away your last, loyal loving son-”

“My God, Tim. Three fucking weeks, and if I hear another word I will hand this matter over to Grayson,” Bruce sighs, sounding a bit defeated.

Tim gives an offended gasp, placing his hand against his chest. And then he realises Bruce might actually be serious, and freaks out a bit.

“He’d be bad for it. Far too personally involved. You definitely don’t want to do that,” he says, leg bouncing under the table. Of course, the Bat notices, but he doesn’t mention it. He wouldn’t take this from Tim, they both knew he was getting too frazzled around the edges. He needed something to focus on, to ground him.

You were the perfect project. He loved his projects.

“I am aware. But the girls are out of town, and uncontactable. And I think if I gave Damian this assignment the two of them would kill each other.”

“No Jason option, sir?” Tim says because he’s a shit-stirrer and wants to get to work.

Tim succeeds in chasing Bruce away. He’s left to have his coffee in peace as the old man quickly flees the room at the mention of the son he's on the worst terms with. For the next few hours, Tim taps away on his computer, enjoying his time.

And when the front doors open, his ears prick, and a decidedly evil grin spreads on his face.

“I’m home!” Dick calls out, words travelling through the grand manor.

Tim gets up from his seat and wanders leisurely to the main hall, where Dick stands. He’s got a suitcase by his side, filled with all the things he’s brought up from the Blud. When he spots Tim, Dick’s face spreads in a familiar sunny smile. He quickly rushes to Tim’s side, swallowing the younger brother in a hug. Tim groans at the tight squeezing.

Despite his clinginess, it was good to see him. His tanned skin glowed healthily, and his curly black hair was messy over his brow. Sapphire blue eyes sparkled. He was happy to be home, despite everything that was going on. Dick always looked like he’d just gotten back from a run because he usually had. It was hard to get the guy to sit still for even a minute, much less stop parkouring over every imaginable surface.

“Tim! How’s it been? Ah, it’s so good to be home,” Dick starts, and again, Tim groans. When Dick starts yammering he never stops.

“I’m good, man. We can talk later, you should go put your things away before Alfred does,” Tim reminds Dick, and Dick pouts. It was a general rule that unless it was cooking, the family wasn’t supposed to rely on Alfred for everything.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be down in a minute! I have so much to tell you,” Dick relents, hand lifting to mess with his hair. Tim pushes him off, glaring at the man, and Dick laughs.

Tim gives Dick a tired wave as the gymnast bounds up the stairs to his bedroom. Tim watches him disappear down the hallways, and thinks, ‘I wish I could see this happen.’ He sighs, guess he’ll just have to hear Dick retell the story later. The distant sound of your shrieking voice has him chuckling. Yeah, he’ll hear about it later, he’s sure.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[sundeathh]

Spicy Headcanons 🌶

MASTERLIST

Featuring: Shota Aizawa • Words: 1.3K+

CW: NSFW | 18+ only. MDNI. Kink description, explicit sex language, implied heterosexual dynamics.

Shota has a sensitive neck and ears. All it takes is a kiss on his neck or a lick on his ear to make him melt. He's also weak to nibbles or whispers - it turns him on a lot, and if you dare to do any of those things, you better not stop there.

Shota is a switch. He likes to take control in bed and enjoys being dominant, but he also likes to be on the bottom and be taken care of from time to time.

Shota can be quite the demanding one, but when he's not dominating, he likes to be gentle and sweet. He can act pretty much vanilla when he's stuck in a rough routine. (It doesn't mean it won't be good, though.)

On the other hand, he can engage in hard-core stuff as well. Gotta a rough, BDSM kink? Talk it out – he's in the game.

He likes to spank you and punish you when you're being a brat. (You're always a brat just so he has an excuse to punish you). 

Aizawa didn't have toys of his own aside from ropes he bought to use on you. He's not against using toys, though – if you have them and want to use them, he'll do so; if you'd like to acquire a new one, he'll buy it, too. It's just something he didn't have before you asked for it.

He sometimes lets (or explicitly asks) you to take the lead. Sometimes, he's just so tired and stressed out from work that all he wants to do is get home to have you ride or go down on him.

And how he loves your lips there! Don't get me wrong – he loves to give you oral, too. (In fact, he'll drive you mad and have you begging whenever he eats you out). But honestly, if he had to choose, he'd say he would rather receive it than give it. Your mouth is just too good. 

He has high stamina and can go on for hours, but oral is something that can bring him to climax and wear him out quite fast if you're not careful enough to let him last longer.

When he feels like himself, he usually goes for the second round. But when he's exhausted from work, he'll want to finish after the first. Sometimes, he goes for the third one, but it's rarer. He feels rather tired after the second one. Usually, when he goes for the third, it's way quicker than the other two.

Aizawa has a praise kink. He likes pet names, little compliments, and to be told about how good he is and how great he's making you feel. He wants to prove his worth, and hearing you praise him makes him feel good about himself. 

He loves your thighs. He'll squeeze them, nibble them, suck on the inner sides, and kiss all the way up to your core to have you squeeze his head between them.

Hair pulling is a must. Both yours and his. If you do it the right way (mild force but firm grip right above the nape), you might even yank a moan out of him. 

Shota likes to be marked and to mark you. He'll make sure to leave at least one hickey somewhere in your body every time you're intimate (usually, he leaves more than one). He doesn't like to show it around, of course. But he likes knowing he has a mark you left on his skin under his clothes. 

He didn't know this, but he has very sensitive nipples. Once you find out about this, it's a whole new world of pleasure you can unravel on his body for him. But be careful! It's a new sensation to him, and he can become easily overwhelmed at that spot.

He's not opposed to pegging. In fact, he likes it – but only if it's done with care and gently. He won't let you do that if he doesn't trust you enough for fear of getting hurt.

Shota LOVES to tease. To make you beg for mercy. To have you whimpering his name, hoping he'll grant you what you so desperately need. It makes him feel powerful to hold your pleasure like that. He'll let you reach your peak afterward, but not without a long road of pleading. 

However, when it's you who is teasing... God forbid the punishment you'll get once you're done with him. He is an absolute BRAT when he's getting teased and will misbehave a lot. (Still loves it in the end).

Aizawa doesn't care much about giving you anal – he'll probably never ask for it. He doesn't see much sense in putting unnecessary strain on your body, especially that you might not be comfortable with. So, if you actually like it, you'll have to ask him directly. (Maybe even talk to him beforehand, to let him know clearly that he won't hurt you).

Because, yes, he's terrified of hurting you unintentionally in that sense. He'll immediately stop if he senses that you're uncomfortable at any point.

And when he does inflict pain on you intentionally because he knows you like it, he'll always start gently and progress slowly to see your level of comfort. He will always check on you.

Talking is another must. Shota takes sex very seriously, and that's not something he does with just anyone. So, before you get to that point with him, you'll have to make things clear and set boundaries for the both of you to be comfortable.

Shota is not very vocal when he's on top since he gets too focused on pleasuring you. Usually, he only makes some low grunt sounds, depending on the intensity of the moment. When he gets closer to climaxing, he'll hold back his moans, but you'll still know he's getting close because his breathing gets a lot heavier and louder. And sometimes, he growls when he finally comes.

However, if you're the one on top, he can relax further and it becomes easier for you to get a moan out of him. Still, they're usually low and breathy. 

On the other hand, he LOVES to hear your voice. Whether you're moaning, whimpering, or whispering, it gets him really aroused and makes the whole experience a lot more enjoyable for him. He will also praise you for that quite often. 

Shota also has a breeding kink. The thought of getting you pregnant with his child makes him excited, but he'll never push it if you're not into the idea. Still, he likes to come inside you and will ask your permission for him to do so once you become regular with each other. He'll stop asking once you two get close (he tends to let you know when it's coming, though). If you don't like having him spreading his seeds inside you, he'll pull out and finish on your belly, back, or thighs. 

Shota is not open about which position he likes the most, but you can tell which ones he enjoys since he often goes with the missionary or horizontal cowgirl positions. He likes to have your bodies pressed together and to see your face when you're intimate. He loves the sense of intimacy and connection it gives him.

He's not very talkative during aftercare. However, he'll always ask you how you're feeling and if you need anything (like water, for example). He'll get up to provide you with whatever you ask him and will help you clean up, but afterward, all he wants to do is cuddle with you in silence and stroke your hair or rub your back. 

He also loves it when it's you the one caressing, but he might fall asleep pretty fast that way, so he doesn't always let you do that because he feels guilty for leaving you awake.

In general, Aizawa believes that sex is not something banal one does with just anyone but rather an activity to do passionately with someone he trusts and cares about.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

[bluerosefox]

Courting Chaos (to Balance)

A KlarionxDanny brain worm that has spawned

Tim Drake, aka Red Robin gets kidnapped suddenly and very randomly by Klarion in the middle of a JL and others meeting.

Leaving with a

"I'LL RETURN HIM WHEN HES NO LONGER USEFUL JUSTICE LOSERS!"

And fire and chaos in his wake.

While the JL, and others scramble to figure out what Klarion has planned this time, Tim manages to break free of whatever Klarion had used to kidnap him only to find himself on a couch and Klarion nervously petting Teekl on his lap while also sitting in a chair across from him.

When Tim goes to demand to know why Klarion kidnapped him Klarion finally speaks.

"Okay, I wanna strike a deal. I won't bug you or your little Young Just US buddies if you help me ask someone out..."

"...What the fuck Klarion?" Was Tim's only response.

-x-x-

So it turns out, every so often the three main entities and actual factions of Order, Chaos, and Balance get together to well discuss things happening in certain Realms, worlds, and timelines. Basicly to touch base, see where everyone was at. Etc etc.

Order was Order. Chaos was Chaos.

Very simple.

Both could be bad. To much order caused restraint and could snuff out growth. To much Chaos could get out of hand and cause ruin.

Both could be good. Order help stabilizes worlds and builds their future. Chaos allowed creativity to roam and brought forth wonderful things.

And Balance.

Well Balance was the very scales that kept both sides in check. They were neutral grounds. The ones that normally oversaw the meetings as well. And despite their low numbers they held powerful entities that more than made up for it.

Balance did their best to keep things in check, sure they do have their own preference sometimes and allowed the scales to tip a tiny bit but always corrected it later if it tips to much.

It was at this meeting, a meeting even Klarion knew better than to do anything too chaotic, pranks were fine but nothing too much, and had been chatting with a newcomer to the side of Chaos (Danielle, call me Ellie, Phantom. She did some heroing on the side but liked causing chaos in her wake to do so, he liked her so far though.) When the bells for the side of Balance to appear announced them.

Ellie had smiled brightly and said her brother was coming with his mentor, turns out her brother was apart of the Balance group which meant that he was strong, strong enough to need a mentor.

He watched as the members of Balance walked, teleported, flew, and other means into the meeting halls. And then froze when his eyes caught sight of him.

Floating next to a blue skined being that was switching ages was a beautiful otherworldly person.

Snow white hair that wisped upwards oh so softly. Glowing green eyes that were cat-like with their piercing glance. A galaxy cloak hanged around his shoulders and seemed to shift with each movement. Star like freckles decorated his face and seemed to glow a soft bluish white. A crown made of ice and aurora lights floated above his head as well.

All in all Klarion couldn't keep his eyes off of the being at all. He nearly spat his water out when Ellie commented that was her brother Danny, or rather.

High King of the Infinite Realms, Daniel 'Danny' Phantom. The Great One. Defeater of the Tyrant King. The Halfa. The Peaceful End. The Balance of the Undead. (And his mentor was the Ghost of Time itself. THE very Keeper of Time, Kronos original form himself.)

Klarion honestly didn't know what to think or rather what emotions he was feeling when he spotted Danny, nor why his face felt so hot and red when the young man looked over at them and smiled. (He was smiling at Ellie but Klarion for some reason hoped it was for him as well)

It wasn't until halfway in the meeting when a rather ingenious prank that Klarion, Ellie, and a few others had set up went off... thing was it strong enough that it had hit Danny's side of the meeting and had hit him.

Now, again pranks were okay but only after the meetings. It was one of the few rules many, even those in Chaos, took seriously because once it was done and over they could go do their things. So for it to happen in the middle of a meeting means someone set their time on the prank wrong and add the fact it hit a person on the Balance side...

Yeah not good.

Only...

Only instead of getting angry, even Clockwork who was seated next to Danny was chuckling, Danny threw his head back and laughed about it. And his laugh... was very cute.

And before he knew it, Klarion had already fallen.

-x-x-

"So yeah.... Since you have a boyfriend and know how to date in this modern age, I need your advice."

".... Klarion just because I'm dating Bernard doesn't mean I know how I did it..."

"Bernard? I thought you were dating that one Supes?"

[brairslair]

op monster trio x fem!reader nsfw headcanons

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors need to scram)

a/n: remember, these are hc’s and just my opinion!

don’t forget to like, reblog, and comment to support my work! mwah &lt;3

“just enjoy this”

luffy:

very talkative and vocal during sex

always just says whats on his mind

“wow, you’re so wet for me already”

“you look so pretty when your face scrunches up like that”

“that feels good. go faster”

not shy at all about moaning and can get really loud sometimes

like there will definitely be noise complaints

kinda a pleasure dom, but can also get really needy sometimes

wants to make sure you feel just as good as he does

“does that feel good?”

“how’s this?”

“you like it when i do that?”

loves bringing food into the bedroom (obviously)

aphrodisiacs? yes

licking whipped cream, hot fudge, caramel, etc, off your body? yuh huh

and his stamina is HIGH

he also gets really excited about trying new things, and will try pretty much anything once if it’s something you’re into

one of his favorites is mirror sex

spreading you out on his fingers or his dick and making sure you watch yourself

he just wants you to see the beautiful view that he gets to see

plus then he gets double of you, and more you is always good

loves when you get vocal, so if you’re on the shyer side he will definitely work overtime so he gets to hear you

will make it a game to see how loud he can get you

he also speaks portuguese bc it makes sense and also i said so !!!!

sometimes his language setting accidentally switches to portuguese when he’s fucked out

“vou meter em você ate você gritar meu nome”

goes crazy when you say his name

even crazier when you get so cockdrunk that you start babbling nonsense

honestly he can’t help but laugh

like full on belly laughing like a maniac while he’s breaking your brain

but he just thinks you’re the cutest and he can’t contain himself

sometimes he’ll have a conversation with you while you’re in that state, acting like he can understand anything you’re saying

“feels good huh?”

you’ll whine out something indecipherable in response

“yeah i know!”

he’s always happy if you tell him what you want and how you’re feeling

because he just loves you so much and he wants you to enjoy it too

because he thinks you deserve the world

can also get pretty dominant/demanding sometimes without even realizing it, just because he’s so blunt

he’s just a man who knows what he wants and goes for it

if he’s especially needy, he gets a little more rough with you

holding your hair as he fucks your mouth, because your eyes look so pretty when you look up at him like that

or fucking you hard and fast to chase his own release, leaving bruises on your hips from how tightly he’s gripping them

even then, he’ll always do frequent check ins to make sure you’re still enjoying it

messy kisser

loves kissing and licking and nibbling all over your body

definitely leaves marks

he’s also not shy about PDA, (mostly because he does not understand the social construct of what is and is not appropriate to do in public), so he loves when he gets to see his love marks on you the next day

thinks u look rly pretty with his love all on you

he’s really good with his mouth

could eat you out for hours, and wont stop until your whole body is shaking

big fan of face sitting

definitely more of a tits guy

always smiling into your kisses, wether he’s sweetly kissing your lips, leaving a trail down your body, or teasing your clit

loves to make you squirm, so edging you is definitely fun for him

he likes seeing you be all needy for him, especially since he’s usually the needier one (can you blame him)

definitely also challenges himself to see how many times he can make you cum in one day, and keeps track of his records

really enjoys using his devil fruit powers on you too, and laughs in excitement when it makes your eyes roll back

always gets you both water and plenty of snacks afterwards, falling into a comfortable conversation or putting on your favorite movie

zoro:

you’re the only person he feels comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with, and he trusts you with his life

you are always his number one priority, no matter what, and that naturally carries over into your sex life

he’s extremely attentive to you, in and out of the bedroom

knows your body better than he knows his own

always knows exactly what you need and just how to make your eyes roll back

he’s a “just relax and let me take care of you” kind of guy, and all he cares about is making you feel good

after all, you always make him feel good, even without doing a single thing

but of course he soaks in anything and everything you graciously give him

he quietly feels undeserving of your love, so he’s really big on being praised

your sweet words only spur him on to make you cum even harder

usually more of a soft dom

but if you ask nicely, sometimes he’ll let you take care of him when you know he needs to just relax

he’s gentle with his strength and careful not to hurt you

likes to fuck you hard but slow, wanting it to last as long as possible

he lives to hear your pretty noises of overstimulation as he makes sure to hit the right spots with every agonizing thrust

your legs held over his shoulders so you can feel every inch of him

doesn’t pick up his pace, even when you’re trembling and trying to move your hips against his

“i’ve got you. just enjoy this”

not super talkative, but definitely gets more vocal the more comfortable he gets being intimate with you

lots of grunts and groans against your neck

sometimes an occasional moan or curse will slip out

when he does talk, it’s soft and low, whispered for only your ears to hear

his voice gets a little deeper when he’s like this, and it grounds you and shakes you to your core somehow at the same time

he loves kissing you, and pouring every feeling he can’t put into words onto your lips

rly likes watching your face to see every pretty little expression you make

likes seeing how good he’s making you feel

also really big on eye contact

wether he’s fingering you, eating you out, fucking you, you’re giving him head, whatever, he wants to look into your eyes and watch them as they get all glassy

“hey, look at me. keep your eyes open”

a little bit into dacryphilia , because it feels so intimate to him

making you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure that it brings you to tears, then kissing all your tears away as you fall apart for him

he’s also really good with his fingers because of how much dexterity he’s built up in his hands from all those years of swordsmanship training

the reason he also has insane stamina ^

if you get bratty with him he’ll get bratty back (he’s a part of the sassy man apocalypse)

sometimes if you’re being particularly bratty, or when he gets cocky after a really good training session, he can get a little more riled up into being more talkative and commanding

but he still never loses that softness, because to him you’re angel on earth, and his love and adoration for you is overflowing

“if you’re that needy, just ask for it. don’t need to make a fuss”

“that’s it, keep going”

“go ahead, you can let go for me”

“tell me what you want me to do and i’ll do it, but you have to use your words”

if he’s feeling really confident, he might pin you against his surface of choice while he ruts into you, licking into your mouth to savor your taste

^ he feels guilty at first for being rough with you, but any fears of him being selfish fly out the window when he hears you moan his name all desperate and hoarse and fucked out

“you like it when im rough like this, huh?”

“what was that, honey? you gotta speak up”

“i know you’ve got one more in you, baby, don’t hold out on me”

no matter what, he always makes sure you cum at least twice before he does

he’s not super into pda, but he secretly loves when you leave marks on him

especially when you scratch up his back or his chest

they feel like battle scars and make him feel all proud and shit

he’ll “discreetly” show them off walking around topless, but he’ll still glare at anyone if they make a comment about it

he also joins the pda train anytime he sees you talking to another man that isn’t a part of the crew

or any time he’s drunk off his ass ^^

thigh/ass guy

he loves feeling your body shutter and twitch from his touch

he doesn’t smile too often, but you sometimes get lucky enough to see it

he’ll hold your jaw up and smile lazily into your sweet kisses while he fucks you deep with his fingers

constantly longs to show his devotion to you, and takes his time to make sure you feel it

lots of sleepy and lazy sex

also shower/bath sex

he lives to hear your sweet sounds

he will not stand for it if you try to hide your pretty little noises from him

“c’mon, don’t do that. let me hear you”

“don’t get all shy on me now”

“there’s my girl”

he’ll always put a pillow under your hips

he likes to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible

he also just finds it really hot when you arch your back

he’ll fuck you so good that you genuinely cannot stand after he’s finished with you

then he’ll run you both a warm bath, hold you to his chest, and wash off your body and your hair as you both relax into the comfortable silence

sanji:

worships the ground you walk on (seriously considered starting a religion)

loves to be romantic and set the mood

cooking you both a nice intimate dinner, lighting candles, peppering rose petals, giving you massages, etc etc

but once you guys actually start getting intimate, he cannot WAIT to get his hands on you

but he still respects you and treats you like a fucking queen, because to him you are

not an exaggeration by any means either, he will build you a throne

he asks permission before kissing you

won’t touch you unless you give him permissiom

will do or say genuinely anything you ask him to, no questions asked

but will also pathetically rut his hips against your clothed cunt while you make out and cum in his pants if you allow it

he can get rock hard just at the sight of you

not even in a pervy way, it’s just that you’re sooo sexy and everything you do is like his siren song

definitely a sub

loves receiving, and feels blessed with every ounce of pleasure you grant him

but making you feel good gives him just as much pleasure, because he worships you after all

knowing he’s the one making you feel good really gets him going

he’ll worship your body for HOURS with no expectations to receive anything in return

he can get off untouched just by knowing he’s making you feel good

loves eating you out, and is extremely talkative

more than willing to be on his knees for you at any time

loves praising you (of course) and is always eager to encourage you

“you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen”

“you taste so sweet, mon amour”

“want you to cum so badly, sweetheart”

“please let me help you come undone my love”

he loves when you praise him too

however, he also goes crazy when you get a little mean

likes it when you use him for your own pleasure after a restless night or a frustrating mission

or when you edge him for hours as punishment for making a flirtatious comment towards another woman (atp he only does it to get this result)

he is also not beneath begging !

sucker for romance during sex too

loves holding your hand while he makes you see stars or while you let him use your mouth

kissing all over you while you both fall apart

babbling and whining against your lips about how much he loves you

loves when you mark him up, and will proudly show them off

practically gets heart eyes every time he looks at you, but his eyes are BULGING when he sees your perfect tits

loves sucking on them while you ride him

very cheesy and dramatic lines and pet names, but they all come straight from his heart and he means every single word

really likes it when you pull his hair

definitely whimpers and whines and moans your name like a prayer

says “thank you” when you let him cum because he’s so polite

probably has a breeding kink

definitely has low stamina at the beginning of your relationship and doesn’t last very long, but builds it up over time

still makes sure you’re more than fully satisfied even if he’s already finished

would let you tie him up, blindfold him, gag him, whatever you want, and he would enjoy the fuck out of every second

he would still complain and whine about not being able to touch/see/praise you a bit though

super passionate kisser

also always extremely sensitive, because it’s you

lots of cuddles and kisses and sweet words after the two of you are done until you fall asleep with your limbs tangled

asks are open!