#I sweat a lot more than the average person

[mischiefmanifold]

tmi or smt in the tags. just venting about my body again

[hunterrrs]

Bike rides, banana bread and being ‘a bullet’: How Sidney Crosby leads Penguins into a new era - SUCH A GOOD ARTICLE (also baby sid buying a car...)

Whether it was when Crosby baked banana bread for the Penguins two years ago or all the times he has recognized something was up with a teammate and checked in on them, everybody seems to have at least one Sid story to share.

Just as striking to these fledgling Penguins has been seeing how Crosby goes out of his way to make every one of them feel like part of the team.

“He’s so welcoming. It’s honestly crazy how he’s a better person than he is a player given how outstanding he is as a player,” prospect Jonathan Gruden said. “But he’s just an unbelievable person who makes you feel like you’ve been here 18, 20 years along with [Evgeni Malkin and Kris Letang]. It’s incredible.”

For Broz, it was that ride on the exercise bikes or sticking around after an informal skate in the middle of July to share pointers with a prospect. For Gruden, it was Crosby texting a young pro who had just gotten called up to the NHL and inviting him over to his house to watch football with the guys.

And for Rutger McGroarty, it started with the text message that Crosby sends many players when they join the organization and quickly evolved from there.

It had been a whirlwind week for McGroarty when the Penguins finalized a trade to acquire him in August. His phone would not stop buzzing as the congratulatory messages poured in. As McGroarty scrolled through them, he froze.

“Oh, it’s Sidney Crosby! Not a normal text you’d get on your average day,” he said. “I was actually sitting next to a couple of my buddies and I showed them.”

A month later, McGroarty was cracking up on the bench at a joke Crosby made.

“He’s a really funny guy,” the 20-year-old said. “It feels like there’s no age gap.”

Crosby sat back at his locker stall at the practice rink the other day, flecks of gray peeking through his black hair and sweat dripping off his chin, as he thoughtfully discussed his leadership style and getting through to Generation Z. For example, McGroarty was literally in diapers when Crosby made his debut.

“I try to put myself in their shoes, but obviously things change. They evolve,” Crosby said. “I think the biggest thing as a rookie is just all the unknowns. You’re in a new league, new team, new teammates, new city. Everything is new. The faster you feel comfortable, that’s a huge part of being able to be at your best.”

Crosby knows his first taste of the league was different, right down to living with Lemieux. He laughed while joking that all these kids won’t crash on his couch.

For the 20th straight season, Crosby is trying to get the Penguins on the same page. They will ice a veteran-heavy team in Wednesday’s season opener. But eventually, the kids are coming — sooner should the team struggle again this fall.

Crosby’s little gestures will help these prospects feel more at home when they arrive. They still may be a bit starstruck. But they will know they belong here.

“It may not seem like it,” Gruden said. “But to a young guy, it means a lot.”

[binniesbooks]

okay so here’s my request hehe.. i thought long and hard about this :>

alright so what about beomgyu (shocker) but he’s like your super rich (slightly older heh) boyfriend who loves loves loves to spoil you. so he buys the reader the most expensive and cutest piece of lingerie and has her try it on for him, ultimately leading to them fucking heh :>

soft dom beomgyu soft dom beomgyu soft dom beomgyu I BEG OF YOU 🙏

• LUXURY GIFTS

BG 001 .F23 2024

wc 3.6k

pairings richbf!beomgyu x spoiledgf!reader

warnings a lot of cursing, marking, unprotected sex, creampie. softdom!beomgyu (did i miss anything?)

faye's note this is my first ever fic in Tumblr and here's my 'lil reign with my first ever ask. Won't stop yapping abt her being my inspiration. I gave her the honor and I'm gladly dedicating this one to her with all my heart. I poured out my blood sweat and tears here. I even remember your tip that I must start light, AND FOR FUCK'S SAKE, THIS, IN WHATEVER SENSE, IS NO LIGHT AT ALL. FUCK. Enjoy I guess! ㅇㅅㅇ For so many times, I kept on rereading this, not wanting to disappoint anyone of my grammar. I think I still need to work on my writing style, my grammar and my mind itself. Goodness. I-i'm just gonna give it a shot, hehe-

Totally dedicated to the one and only, @beomiracles *bows down*

Beomgyu was a hard-working boyfriend. He had always been the most hard-working person you know. He was always busy working on something even at the premise of his very own house. You often teased him as a slave at work even though, he, basically owned the company where he was working at. He may be always busy but he always makes time when it comes to you. He never forgets every detail about you, your likes and dislikes, and does not even need to mark his calendar to remind himself about dates because he knows when. Beomgyu is not your average type of boyfriend. However, people mistook him as just a worker and not the owner. The humble aura he carried is what made people mistake him for one.

Being with him wasn’t easy. Because of his friendly and approachable attitude, girls tend to hit on him, and sometimes it gets on your nerves causing an argument between the two of you.

"What the hell was that?" You raise your voice as you harshly step down the stairs to the parking lot from the party you two are at.

"Baby, please, at least stop walking and listen to me, you might trip and hurt yourself". He tries to catch your hand as you swing it away from him.

"There were so many times, I've warned you not to get too close to people who are eye-fucking you", you faced him, brows meeting.

He sighed as he stepped closer and held your hand.

"Princess. I'm being extra careful, promise. I wasn't even expecting that she would do that, but I pushed her hands away, I swear" he genuinely apologized as he caressed your hand.

You close your eyes, about to speak again when he interrupts you. "I promise, that will never gonna happen again". He cupped your face as he looked at your eyes.

"One more time a girl tries to place their hand on whichever part of your body, I'm gonna cut their hands" you fumed as you tried to erase the memory of that girl trying to fix Beomgyu's necktie.

"Her actions were too unnecessary given the fact that you have a girlfriend" you muttered under your breath as he gave you a tight hug and kept on apologizing.

"Not my fault you're younger than me and they mistake you as my sibling instead" he teased.

You shove him as you glare at him saying, "Excuse me, a two-year difference is not that big?! Plus are you enjoying the fact that you are being touched by other girls?"

"Words, miss. We don't want you getting in trouble with you accusing me, yeah?" He holds your face closer to his with a smirk plastered on his face. "I'm not enjoying it. I just wanna tease you, pretty. You don't have a clue how many million times I explained to those people who are around us that we are a thing, not siblings." He sighed and kissed your forehead.

"Why don't we go do some shopping instead? What do you say? It's still early. We can buy everything you want." He smiled as he cupped your face once again coaxing you.

"Just because I am agreeing to this doesn't mean we are all good now", you glared at him. He chuckles at your actions as he opens the door of his car.

"Get in princess, I'm going to buy you lots of gifts," he gestured as you sat down in your seat. You watched him circle the car and enter the driver's seat. You sighed, it is never easy to have a good-looking, humble, and kind type of boyfriend.

He drove to the store where he always buys you gifts and luxuries. This was a normal occurrence between the two of you. Him being the target of every girl, you fuming, and Beomgyu spoiling you to make it up to you. It might sound like he is bribing you but he's not. He just really loves spoiling you. If possible, he won't allow you to spend a single cent. Claiming that he is the man and he must be responsible ever since the two of you started dating. But of course, you also sometimes stand your ground and 25% of the time, he accepts losing to you.

Another normal occurrence was that you would get a flower delivered to your place before you go to work, every single day. And of course, who did it come from other than your boyfriend who loves to spoil you? You even thought of planting a whole garden with how many flowers he kept sending you. If only you had cool hands that could keep the flowers alive after planting. From flowers to accessories, from dresses to footwear. Anything that your eyes laid upon, he buys it, with or without your permission.

One Saturday morning, you woke up with a ringing phone. You grabbed it and answered without checking the caller's ID.

"Hello? Who is this? The sun is barely up..." You talked with eyes still closed, voice becoming faint. You heard a chuckle on the other side of the line. The voice registered to your brain, it was Choi Beomgyu, your boyfriend.

"Good morning sleepy head, happy anniversary." He greeted with such joy in his voice. Your once sleepy mind and body were fully awake now as you scrambled to sit up face palming your face. Remember how you set your alarm the night before to wake up early and be the one to greet him first but you ended up switching your phone off every time the alarm rang.

"I'm sorry, love, I wanted to be the one who greeted you first-- my goodness." You exclaimed as you mentally punched your head.

He chuckles once again as he tried to cheer you up, "It's fine baby, I know you are tired from work, it's too early to be upset"

"Happy anniversary, Beomie, I love you." You smiled and tried to sound more positive.

"I love you, princess. Oh, by the way, can you come alone here later? I might not be able to pick you up, I still have a lot more to prepare. Plus I'm planning to cook."

"Mmm, will do, baby. Don't worry." You answered as you stood up from your bed and placed your phone between your shoulder and cheek to make your bed.

"Are you sure though? I can still pick you up, you know, plus it's still early. We're gonna meet at 6 in the evening. I can make time." He asked.

"Beomie, you don't have to worry, really. I'm gonna finish my chores first, might run to a store and buy something before going straight to your place". You assured back.

"Okay then. I'll see you this evening, love. I'll be at work. I love you, take care of yourself." You answered with a sweet hum and a smile as if he could see you before he dropped the call. Beomgyu has been calling you different pet names, which did not even bother you a single bit. His sweetness shows through the way he calls you. You were so used to it that whenever he did not call you any, you knew that he was angry.

After finishing all your tasks and chores, you had to clean yourself up. Standing in the middle of your dresser, deciding on what you will wear.

You've been pondering already for half an hour. Digging every corner of your cabinet to look for something special to wear. You can't disappoint Beomgyu, especially today. He loves to spoil you and you love to show it off especially when you are with him. Well, he tells you to dress pretty all the time. If you were his wife already, he would have considered you a trophy wife.

Within a few minutes, you decided to wear the silk red designer dress he had recently bought you. It hugged every corner of your curves the right way. Although he did spoil you with so many accessories and wardrobes, he was not a fan of heavy makeup. He likes it simple. After dabbing some face powder and a gloss on your lips, you were good to go.

You immediately get up, and grab your phone, the gift you ordered a few days ago, your purse, and your car key. You were still planning to drop by a store nearby to buy some wine for the special night.

It was 10 minutes before 6 when you arrived at his place. "Hi love, how are you?" You greeted him as you placed the wine on the table that you brought from the store before you rushed to his side.

"I'm good princess. Maybe a bit exhausted. I doubled my work for my pretty girl", he smiled as he removed the apron wrapped around his waist. Repositioning the folded sleeves of his dress shirt.

"I'm almost done here, why not take a seat?" He approached you and kissed you while giving you a tight hug. "You look pretty..." His fingers brushed along your cheeks when he pulled away to look at you. "Happy anniversary" he muttered once again. You smiled at him as you tiptoed and gave him a quick kiss. "Happy anniversary Beomie" you giggled.

He pulled the chair for you and made you sit down, "could you wait for a couple minutes more? I'm almost done. " You nod at him.

You shared the evening with sweet talks and love lingering between the two of you. Sharing the food he cooked and the wine you bought.

"I have a gift for you." You said joyfully as you placed the glass of wine carefully on the table. "It might not be much, since you have everything." You playfully roll your eyes as you push the small box in front of him.

"You can open it now." You said as you clasped your hands near your cheeks. Excitement can be easily heard from your voice.

He carefully unwrapped the gift as if almost scared to destroy it. His eyes widened at the gift you gave him.

"Love, you didn't have to." His eyes softened when he looked at you. It was a wristwatch. It was nothing compared to everything he bought you. But this particular one was hard to find. He couldn't find it in the stores you both often go to. He dislikes online shopping, saying it's too much of a hassle. So, you, as a loving girlfriend, patiently search every single online shop you know, just to find this watch.

"It's nothing compared to everything you have given me, Beom." You held his hand and looked at him lovingly. He smiled sweetly at you as he sighed in defeat.

Beomgyu has always been a big fan of extravagance and elegance, and tonight, he was eager to show it off again to you. He asked you to close your eyes as he stood up to grab the gift he bought. When you opened your eyes, a beautifully wrapped box sat invitingly on the table.

“Open it,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. You excitedly open the box. Inside, you found the most exquisite lingerie—a lingerie that shimmered softly, and you bet it wouldn't cover you fully.

Your eyes are wide as you stutter to talk to him.

"L-love, what...what is this?" This is the lingerie your eyes always laid upon whenever you go to that one place with Beomgyu. You just always smile at yourself every time you see this, shaking off the naughty ideas building in your mind. But to hold it with your own hands, to be gifted it to you as your own, it makes you so shy.

“Try it on for me,” he urged, his excitement palpable. He crossed his arms on his chest as he stared at you, a smirk, once again, plastered on his face. You felt a rush of anticipation as you headed to his bedroom, slipping into the lingerie. Staring at your reflection in the mirror. Unsure if you want to go out and face him. Your cheeks show a visible bright hue of pink, and your ears red.

Beomgyu was the one to follow you when you did not show. Beomgyu’s expression was one of pure admiration. “Wow,” he breathed, stepping closer. “You look breathtaking.” The red lingerie is barely covering your chest, you are thankful that there was a free mini skirt cut of the lingerie that can cover you below.

He circled you slowly, taking in every detail, before leaning in to whisper, “Fuck, it fits you perfectly." He tucks your hair on the back of your ear. Your ears burn hot with embarrassment and with the sensation. Yes, you've been with Beomgyu for a while but you haven't taken it to the next level, aside from heavy make-outs of course, that's why you feel so small and embarrassed in front of him.

He made you face the big mirror again, as he stood at your back. He gently placed his arms on your neck. You couldn't help but whimper at how you looked. You shut your eyes as you felt a shiver down your spine.

"Fuck." He cursed once more, almost unheard. "Don't make a sound like that, sweetheart. I might not be able to control myself." He places his other hand on your waist, taking a dip where your neck and shoulder blades meet as he inhales your scent. "You smell so sweet."

"Beomgyu, please..." You can feel yourself trembling in his hands. He pulls away, making you frown a little bit. He walked towards the bed as he sat down on the edge.

"C'mere." He taps on his lap as you walk towards him. You swear you heard him mutter 'fuck's' and 'shit's' under his breath. You sat on his lap as he held your waist, letting his lips crash on yours. You clawed on his chest for the sensation you are feeling. The kiss he's giving you is careful but needy, gentle but hot. You both pull away, lips swollen, and steam can be felt between the two of you.

"Please tell me to stop now. I can't afford to hurt you." He closed his eyes as he tried to ground himself. With mustered-up courage, you slowly got off of him and started to get down instead.

"Sweetheart, I'm warning you." He tried to warn you as he held your wrist. You shook your head. "I've been dying to do this to you, Beomie". You stared up at him as you slowly unbuckled his belt.

"Fuck, please..." He bit his lips. Still trying to control himself. You raise his dress shirt a bit, enough for his abdomen to show.

You slowly stroke him when he finally lets go of your wrist.

"Ah! Shit- love, fuck." You can see how his abdomen clenches at the sensation. You lowered your head, giving him kitten licks, testing the waters, tasting his pre-cum. He held your hair, not enough to hurt you but enough to take control. He tried to lower your head more, making his tip be fully shoved into your mouth.

"Fucking hell. You look so pretty." He loosens his grip on your hair and carefully caresses your face, as you lean on his hand. He voluntarily removed the buttons of his shirt discarding it at the bedside.

His hands moved back to your head once again as he pushed you down a bit more making you whimper. He cursed once again as he felt the vibrating sensation from your mouth. "Are you okay?" He checks you. Only for him to moan again as you hum on his cock in your mouth. Once he knows you got used to him, he controls the moment of your head, making you clench on nothing. You are guessing he is almost coming undone when his voice gets a bit higher in pitch.

"Fuck, stop right there." He commanded, making you stop your movement. He pulled you up to kiss you once again, this time a bit more aggressive than the first one. He pulled away, only to press his thumb on your lips. "Hot.." you muttered, before sucking on his thumb. The action got Beomgyu reeling as his remaining self-control slipped out.

He made you stand up and lay down on the bed as he discarded his pants. You were not expecting him to go down on you but he is Beomgyu. The guy who always puts you first. The guy who always took care of you first instead of himself. His fingers swiftly removed the newly bought lingerie,

You trembled when you felt his tongue lap onto your cunt. He gripped your waist to stop you from squirming away from him.

"Beomgyu! Ah fuck! Fuck it feels so good!" The voice came out strained. He hums and looks up at you as he rubs a circular motion on your sensitive nub.

"Please, please Beomgyu! I-i'm gonna cum!" Your eyes well up with tears. As you beg him, unsure of what, you chant him as many please as your mouth can say.

He tasted a salty-sweet taste on his tongue as you come undone, fucking his tongue in and out of you as you ride your high.

"Give me one more, love, I know you can." He said as he once more made you cum on his tongue.

"You tasted so sweet. I might be addicted to your taste, damn."He mutters as he hovers over you, littering your neck with dark red and purplish marks. You tried to grind on him which he immediately felt and smiled.

"Never thought you'd be this eager. I should've bought that lingerie a long time ago if I only knew." He chuckled as he pressed a deep kiss on your still-swollen lips.

He supported his body up with his arms. Your eyes watched how his muscles flexed on both of his arms. You can't help but hold on to it knowing what is happening next.

"Should we stop, love? I have no condoms prepared. I really didn't know we were taking it up to-"

"Please take me raw." Your eyes pleading. You held his arms tighter. He stared at your love bites- littered body as he bit his lips.

"If you ask me like that, how can I even say no?". He held your cheeks for a while before totally discarding his boxers. "Tell me if it's too much and we'll stop. I want to ruin you but I don't wanna hurt you, darling." He sincerely said as he lined himself up at your entrance.

You never felt a sensation this good before. His raw flesh drags inside you slowly. "More. I can take it" you assured, shaking off the stretching pain you are feeling.

"Please tell me the truth. I think I'm hurting you, baby." He worries. You hug him closer as you ask him to fully push in. "Please push it in more, Beom. I need more.." you muttered, cock drunk, fucked out.

He can't help but to bit his lip and bottom out in you as he stared at your fucked out expression. "Fuckin' tight. You feel so good, wrapping around my cock, baby." He smirked at you. You avoided his gaze out of embarrassment as

"I'll start moving." He announced still staring at you as he slowly moved in and out. You are now a whimpering and a moaning mess in front of him. The pretty girl who once was pretty in his eyes when angry is now all fucked out. Unable to form coherent words as whimpers, whines, and moans are the only thing that comes out of your mouth.

"Ahh! Shit love, please stop clenching on me or I might cum inside you!" With a warning tone, he tries to stop you. But every time you hear him curse, you heard him moan as if on cue, as you were clenching on his cock. You can't help yourself but clench on him some more.

"I'm.. fuck.. fuck! Fuck Beomgyu! Oh god!" You were squirming under him, feeling every bit of his cock drag in your insides. It's giving you too much sensation you couldn't handle.

"Come on my cock then. Show me how much you love me, baby. Show me how much you can do for me." He himself can't help but move faster inside you with his high nearing.

You clawed on his arms making him wince as you come undone on his cock, body shaking, he held you closer as he fucks you more into your high, his white thick cum painting your walls. "Shit!" He exclaimed as his ears rang when he pushed more inside, making your lips quiver and your eyes shut close.

A few more seconds when he calmed down from his high he pulled out of you. Almost ran to the bathroom to grab a wet towel. In everything, he puts you first, cleaning you more than himself. He grabbed a shirt from his closet and made you slip it on to make you feel comfortable. He picked up his pants to wear them again as he laid beside you.

You mouthed 'Happy anniversary, love' before you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He chuckled as he pulled you closer and hugged you as he tucked you both under the blanket. Allowing you and himself to dive deep in sleep.

'This was a better gift than the watch, I guess', he thinks to himself.

@binniesbooks 2024

[xxxsaturnxx]

König head cannons

As requested on my most recent poll!! I did try to keep it very neutral and ‘fluffy’. Please let me know who else i should write for im always looking for new ideas!!

König keeps a little journal with him at all times when he’s deployed. Just something to vent at or doodle in. He’s not the best artist but he tries, he even has small doodles in almost every page that kind of look like you.

His journal is VERY private the only person thats allowed to take a peak in there every now and then is you. Sometimes when he’s busy somewhere else in the house and he leaves his journal unattended you put tiny love notes in the corners of the pages.

While he’s not deployed König has three moods. Couch potato, horn dog, and the biggest ball of energy anyones ever seen.

König in couch potato mode is just a giant weighted blanket. He’ll lay on the couch taking up the entire couch just watching a movie or show of his choosing. You can try to join him but only if you can lift a part of him up, and if you can’t the floor or his lap would do fine.

König while he’s all energetic can mean a couple things for you. He’ll either want you to join him on a run or hike, but his idea of a small hike or a short run might just kill you half way through.

NSFW MDNI

When könig is riled up he’s practically glued to you in someway. His hands would most likely fall on your chest or waist trying to feel every inch of skin he can reach. His mouth would be marking you all over your neck, chest, and legs are going to be covered with bite marks and hickes red and sore.

Sometimes when he’s particularly desperate humping is to be expected. In those times you can bring down this massive 6’10 hulking man into nothing more than a whiny mess, Begging for your touch. He’ll look up at you while on his knees with those beautiful ocean eyes begging for any kind of attention/friction.

If hes just gotten back from deployment best believe the first thing hes looking for is you. He’ll drop everything at the door slamming it with his foot. The second he spots you his hands and lips are all over you. He mumbles against your skin about how much hes missed you before taking your lips into his.

Later that day he makes sure that you feel every inch second hes missed you. Almost breaking the bed, couch, you and table throughout the night. He does make sure to slow down every once and a while to just love on you and to also give you a break.

Königs stamina is very well above average much like the rest of him. He understands that breaks are important so you don’t break. ( as euphoric as it would be)

His after care routine is just as much for you as it is for him. Back rubs, bathroom trips and head scratches are some favorites but just having him there still breathing heavy wiping the sweat from your brow and giving you soft kisses all over your face is definitely on the top of all favorites.

König rarely loses control when you’re together, always couscous of how you feel and react. But there are those moments when he just snaps in the best way possible.

Sometimes he snaps before hes even entered you and he just grips the base of your head and positions you like you’re nothing more than a rag doll. König just relentlessly thrusting in and out of you while hes holding you still with one hand pushing your head down by your neck and the other sinking into your hip.

Other times könig and you are mid stroke when he snaps. Positioning you under him almost being crushed by his weight. He mindlessly pounds into you like a wild animal, both times ending with him filling you over and over again till hes had his fill, leaving you dripping and cock drunk.

It is almost guaranteed that you wake up the next morning sore and bruised but very satisfied. He’ll apologize for losing control by pampering you the entire day, so expect a lot of cuddles, kisses, and being fed your favorite foods.

[kissatoru]

𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

content · NSFW MDNI, college au, dom/sub dynamics, bratty sub!eren, mean to soft dom!reader, gn!reader, dry humping, humiliation, nipple play, degradation, praise, edging, handjob, blowjob

wc · ~6.8k

notes · couldn’t help making it soft at the end! i’ve reread this so many times i genuinely have no idea if it’s good but i hope you enjoyed it<3

House parties aren’t really your thing. You’ve been to a few but you quickly discovered that they involve a lot more vomit and interpersonal drama than you have the tolerance for, so you tend to avoid them. You would’ve turned down the invitation for this one too, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was Eren Jaeger who offered it up to you. That’s why you’re here, at the house of someone who’s a friend of a friend’s friend, at sometime past midnight.

You’re leaning against the wall, sipping on a half-empty can of pop, when you finally spot Eren, making his way over to you with a grin much too wide for someone who’s late to a party he invited you to. He looks good, dressed in a white tank top that brings out the musculature of his arms and black skinny jeans you’ve only ever seen him wear to parties like this one, since he usually wears sweatpants everywhere else. His hair is half-down and half-up in a bun, not too different from the usual messy man bun he goes for.

Once he arrives at your side, beer can in hand, you exchange greetings and small talk, talking about nothing and everything. In the middle of a conversation, some drunk rando throws up by your feet, so you and eren migrate to a different room. On the way though, another person bumps into you and spills their drink down your shirt. It doesn’t help that you were already damp with sweat from how hot and stuffy it is, as well as nauseous from the lingering stench of vomit mixed with alcohol and BO. You meet their eyes with hellfire on your tongue and in any other situation, you would’ve let it loose, but the way they paw at your clothes and slur their apology reminds you that you’re in a house full of clumsy idiots just like them, so you just shrug it off and focus on finding a bathroom to clean up in.

That’s what Eren likes about you. You’re down-to-earth and keep to yourself, but don’t let people walk over you and speak out when you need to; you’re not exactly timid, but you’re soft-spoken in a way that suits your voice and nice to people without being overly nice. Oh and don’t get him started on your witty humour and the way you play off other people’s jokes so effortlessly; even when you shake your head or roll your eyes or just ignore him after he tells a joke that doesn’t land, he’s buzzing. That’s why he’s been ogling you during your shared lectures, the reason he keeps ‘losing’ his pens and asking to borrow from you, the reason he keeps ‘forgetting’ to give them back, the reason he asked you out to this party! Something about you just got Eren hooked, to the point that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, to the point he would wake up with a boner almost every morning and jerk off from what he remembered of his dreams about you; to the point those dreams turned into fantasies, imagining what your body looks like under your clothes, what your moans sound like, what faces you’d make.

You, on the other hand, didn’t have any strong feelings toward Eren until later. You thought of him as kind of average, if not a little loud and annoying at times, such as when he disrupted class, but in a word, tolerable, and definitely not the worst classmate you’ve ever had. Usually, you’d never give a guy like him the time of day unless he actually tried to pursue you (instead of just flirting and joking around aimlessly) but your interest was piqued after your friends passed on to you some rumours about him being a self-proclaimed ‘hardcore dom’. From that point on, you were just as hooked. You became less dismissive and a little more friendly, playing along with his game — long enough so that he’d never see it coming once you finally sunk your claws into him.

That’s why, when you finally find the bathroom, you stop in the doorway, turn to Eren in your stained shirt and say, “Do you mind helping me clean up?”

The excitement in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed as he answers a nonchalant, “Yeah, sure,” and follows you inside. The soft click of the lock has Eren’s pulse jumping because he knows exactly where this is going. He knew you had to feel something back, that you couldn’t resist his advances forever. His eyes scan you shamelessly while you pull your top over your head and start wiping your chest down with a towel. He leans against the door and comments, “Hey now, you might give a guy the wrong idea taking off your clothes like that,” and that’s what sets everything else into motion.

“Yeah?” you say as you step closer. Your voice is hushed, lowered, as if to whisper a dirty secret. “How do you know it’s the wrong idea?”

Eren falters at your forwardness, but runs a palm over his hair and regains his composure. “I guess I don’t,” he says, not even trying to hide the way he’s staring at your lips. “So, is it?” His dark gaze flicks back up to your eyes. “The wrong idea?”

You smile and make sure to bat your eyelashes extra prettily as you whisper, “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

His lips are on you as soon as you finish the question and his hands grasp at you while he backs you up against the door. He kisses you feverishly and as impatiently as you’ve been feeling this entire night. You let him kiss along your jaw, down your neck, across your collarbone, but before he can get too carried away, you guide him back to your lips. This time, you take over leadership in the kiss. Eren smirks, mistaking it for eagerness, until a skilled tongue slides into his mouth and your hands begin to touch him with confidence and ease. His breath hitches once, twice, and it only spirals from there. He’s gasping and panting in seconds, overwhelmed and barely managing to keep up. Slowly but surely, you’re pushing back, and he can feel himself giving in, involuntarily yielding to you like it’s a biological instinct. He doesn’t even realise how bad it is until it’s too late, until his back is pressed against the door and his centre of gravity becomes you, staring at him with a look he’s never seen on your face before.

“You’re real pretty, you know that, right?” you tell him as you tuck some of the loose hair from his bun behind his ear. Eren opens his mouth, presumably to bark out a retort at your (what he believes to be) demeaning choice of words, but all that comes out is a quiet moan as your knee rides up between his legs. You take advantage of that and slip your thumb inside, pressing down on his tongue and opening his mouth wider. “So pretty,” you add in a croon, but then he brings his teeth down and bites your thumb. You don’t give him the satisfaction of a pained reaction, settling for a disappointed glare and a tight grip of his jaw. “Don’t be a brat now, Jaeger. You don’t wanna know what I do to brats.” Interestingly, the lump against your knee twitches. You arch an eyebrow. “Oh? Or maybe you do?”

His eyes are on yours, seemingly stern and rebellious but you know it’s just a ruse; you know begging for mercy when you see it. Such eyes suit him, you’ll give him that, but you’d have to be a fool not to take this opportunity, to give him that final nudge, those final few centimetres he needs to be all yours. So you whisper into his ear, the kinds of things he’s used to saying and worse, until he’s flushed and speechless, stuttering over his breaths and holding back whines. It’s almost too easy when you lean down to his neck, and he just lifts his chin and gives it to you, without you even having to ask. You reward him with red kisses and purple lovebites that have the skin beneath your lips thrumming with suppressed moans. It’s such a treat too, how affected he is when you’ve barely even started.

Some part of Eren is still screaming at him to steal back his dignity and the role he’s made a reputation out of, but his pants are damp and so tight it hurts, it’s really not his fault when he starts grinding against your knee in search of relief. You find it adorable, really, and smirk against his neck as you press your knee forward in an act of pity. A whimper slips from him and he ruts against you faster, more desperately, so desperately. He almost sobs because he was sure your actions would be as cruel as your words, but he’s too caught up in chasing his high to feel relieved or thankful. He focuses only on moving his hips, back and forth, back and forth, and holy shit, is he really about to come already? In his pants, like some teenager?

He stops his movements, shaking with the effort of keeping still. With clammy hands, he hurries to undo his jeans, but you snatch them away and pin them to the wall. Your curled lips indicate that you understand the situation just fine without an explanation, yet you still have the audacity to say, “What’s the matter? Don’t you wanna come?” your tone all flowery and pure as you pick up where he left off, mercilessly rubbing his cock through the fabric.

“No, no, no, fuck,” Eren chokes out, even as he betrays himself by meeting your knee halfway, but he just can’t stop! His peak is drawing closer and closer and his downward motions just get harder and faster. It feels so good and he’s so, so–

“Don’t come yet.”

Eren’s first thought is: how the fuck is he supposed to do that? But then his second thought is: why would he listen to you anyway? What authority do you have over him? And yet what comes out of his mouth is, “Please–”

“Begging so soon?” you say against his lips. “That’s sweet, it really is.” You let go of his wrists and trail your hands down his arms to his chest, then over a nipple experimentally, grinning when you feel it pebble under your light touch. You give it some more attention, circling and rubbing it through the fabric until Eren’s hands are clutching your shoulders and he’s curling in on himself trying to escape the foreign sensation. He never thought that part of his body could feel... good?

You suddenly pinch and twist it and Eren whines. The pain is sharp, and yet that’s what has his orgasm returning. With only a few more grinds against your knee, it’s hitting him fast, from all angles, and the thing he’s been dreading finally comes true. He soaks his underwear with cum, hot and sticky and disgusting. He moans weakly, digging his blunt fingernails into your shoulders as his head raises up against the door.

You sigh, disappointed. “I didn’t say you could come.”

Eren is standing there, trying to catch his breath and too out of it to respond to you, when you suddenly grab him through his pants. His back arches at the overstimulation and you’re smiling because of course you are as your hand massages over his bulge and the horrid squelching sounds remind him of his shame. He tries to get away from the stimulation, gasping out, “Stop, stop, stop!” but when you don’t hear that lovely ‘please’ you only quicken your ministrations.

“You’re such a pervert, Eren,” you taunt, soft and sultry, as if you weren’t humiliating him with your words. “Coming in your pants from having your nipples played with? And it’s only been like, what, a minute?”

His cheeks turn pink, his eyebrows knit together, and all he can say is a shaky, “Shut up.”

You snicker. “Aw, don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute! You’re just like a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” he croaks out, and it’s true, but you pretend to be unconvinced so you can watch him rush to make you believe him while his face blooms a darker shade of pink and his cock hardens at your touch — or maybe your words? Either way, you continue palming him until his defiant expression fades, until it’s replaced by parted lips and hooded eyes.

Then you pull away, just as he’s starting to buck into your palm. You relish the way he looks at you, so questioning and betrayed. You wish you could see what other faces you can get him to make, but now that you’ve given him a taste, you intend to take it all away. It’s the funnest part of this all; leaving him wanting after planting the seed of what could be into his mind, letting him continue with his life of hook-ups and one-night-stands before he inevitably comes running back to you. It would be so easy now to lose your patience and ravage him like a starved man, sure, but that takes away the fun in taking him apart piece by piece. You’ve come all this way; it would be a shame not to savour it.

“Why did you stop?”

There it is, you think, and you can’t help smiling. “You told me to,” you answer as you take a step back. Eren stands there, the start of a protest falling from his lips. You don’t wait for him to finish, instead reaching for your shirt and putting it back on.

“Hey,” Eren scoffs and grabs your arm. “You can’t just leave.” His tone is light-hearted, but you can tell he’s being serious, and that it’s more like a plea rather than the statement it’s phrased as.

“Oh, can’t I?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Eren looks at you, then his crotch. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this lost for words.

You just laugh through your nose, like he’s told a bad joke. “This is your punishment, Eren. You should remember it next time you think about disobeying me.” You wave your hand for him to move, but he lingers, so you give him a pointed look, a silent demand. He steps out of the way and you open the door. “See you in class on Monday,” you say over your shoulder before shutting the door behind you.

Standing there with his heart still pounding with adrenaline, Eren realises that he was right before; your actions are as cruel as your words, crueller even, he just guessed too soon. He should be livid — you’ve left him covered in hickeys, with an aching boner and cum that’s still warm in his pants — but all he can think about is two words: next time. Even after days have passed, he doesn’t stop thinking about them. He clings to them like a lifeline, every day and every class with you after that; turning those words over, listening to the echo of your voice in his mind, the way your lips moved around those two bittersweet syllables. He thinks about them for an entire three weeks before they finally come into existence thanks to a class assignment that gets the two of you paired up.

You avoid inviting him over too soon, purposely offering to meet up at cafés and the campus library. At first, they were nothing more than that: just doing actual work for the assignment. But soon enough, you start to tease and distract him; a foot skimming his inner calf one too many times to be an accident, a hand on his thigh that rubs up and down but never more. It’s torture, yet Eren feels giddy at the prospect of it leading up to something more, every single time, wondering if this will be the time you go further.

There’s one time he’s sure you will. It starts out innocent, you asking him to get a book that’s too high up for you. As he reaches for it, his shirt lifts up, revealing a strip of his v-line and the waistband of his boxers, how the edge of skin above it is slightly paler, where his tan didn’t reach...

It’s gone as soon as it appears and usually your thoughts would vanish with it — except the aisle happens to be dowsed in shadows from a broken light and the closest person around is on the other side of the library. Eo instead of your urges slipping away, it’s your self-restraint, and rather than taking the book, you take his wrist. Then you pin him to wall and use your other hand to push his lips into yours, all in one fell swoop. The intensity with which you kiss him and the way you have him pressed against the wall brings him back to that night. He kisses back just as passionately, all slippery saliva and clashing teeth. He’s sweating already, hot with the thrill of what else you’re willing to do, how far you’re willing to go in a public place like this. Would you touch him? make him come in his pants? Leave him hard?

A hand clutching onto your shirt brings you back to your senses. You pull away and Eren tries to chase your lips, but you catch his jaw before he can. He’s still panting from the residual excitement of earlier. His eyes stare at you, puppy-like in the way they speak a silent plea and twinkle with the reflection of the library ceiling lights behind you. You just smile and pet his spit-slick lips with a thumb, the gentle touch distracting him long enough for you to grab the book he’s still holding and step back. “Thanks,” you say, gesturing to the book before walking away.

Just seconds ago, Eren’s mind was racing with thoughts, but as he stares at your retreating back, his only thought is that you really are cruel — and yet it is that thought, and that moment, that replay in his head that very night as he’s roughly pumping his cock and coming in his underwear, if only to pretend you forced him to, just like back then. He’s pathetic, he knows that, but at the same time, it’s all he can do. He just feels so... he doesn’t even know what to call it, but it has him drooling after everything you do. He’s never felt this way about anyone. He’s only ever slept around with people, too afraid of committment for even friends with benefits or a situationship. He’s not even all that great with friendships, with only two friends he’s been lucky enough to have by his side since childhood, and a few guys he talks to and has lunch with at uni, but never actually hangs out with outside of class. But you? You have something that makes him want to stay, to keep going after you; you’re the reason he hasn’t slept with anyone since the party. He’s tried to, but it’s just not the same. He feels like you’ve ruined him for everyone else. That’s why he has no other choice but to fuck his fist after every meet-up with you, imagining it as your fist while the words you left him with loop in his head.

It isn’t until over halfway through the project that Eren’s pining finally reaches its peak with a single message:

let’s work at my place today, usual time

The way it’s not a question does something to him, which is when he realises how pent-up he is. He knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but by the time he reaches your dorm, he’s already half-hard. He wipes his sweaty hands off on his tee and adjusts himself in his sweatpants before knocking on your door. When you open it, you’re in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, legs bare and feet clad in slippers.

“You’re early,” you say as Eren strolls inside.

He scoffs. “Not on purpose,” he says, hoping you don’t see through his façade (you do). He slides his hands into his pockets and takes a look around your room. Various shelves and decoration on your walls, reflecting your interests; memorabilia and clutter on different surfaces and furniture. Some clothes thrown over your desk chair, a few plants and books. There’s a scent in the air too, not too strong but prominent and uniquely you.

“When you’re done snooping around my room like a creep,” you call out from your bed, “we should get on with the assignment.” Your fingers clack away on your laptop keyboard for a bit before looking at Eren. “I know the deadline’s next Friday but I’d rather get it done as soon as, y’know?”

Eren’s stomach drops. He completely forgot the real reason he was invited here; the innocent reason he was invited here. Your tone was casual, gave no indication that you knew, yet as he stands there in front of you, he feels like you’re in his head. Do you know the effect you had on him at the party? The effect you continue to have on him? Shit, Eren thinks, as he clenches and unclenches his fists. He wants to respond, play it off cool and act like he only agreed to come so enthusiastically because he cares about his grades, but his mind is blank.

“Cat got your tongue?” you tease, shifting into a position that has you face-on to Eren. Then you slide to the edge of the bed and lean forward. “Why so quiet, Jaeger? That’s not like you, your loud mouth usually always has something to say.” Those scrutinising eyes scan him from head to toe. Slowly. “And where are all the materials anyway? The ones you were meant to bring? For the assignment?”

He feels caught, trapped like prey, and with every few-second flick of your eyes, every purposely chosen word and perfectly timed pause, he feels himself get smaller and smaller.

“Don’t tell me,” you start, but with those three words alone, Eren already knows his fate has been sealed, “you thought we wouldn’t actually be doing the assignment?” You’re smiling now, the same smile you had in that bathroom three weeks ago as you palmed him through his cum-soaked pants. “What did you think we were going to do, huh? Please, tell me...” Your eyes narrow into slits and your lips stretch out in a smile, showing off teeth that flash like a predator’s. “I am so curious.”

You’re pushing his buttons, making him feel like the desperate one, and maybe he is, but could you blame him? Eren just wants another taste of what you gave him at the party, and most of all, he wants you. He realises that maybe you really did just send that text with the intention of working on the assignment, but there’s no denying that in this moment, that’s not what this is; in this moment, you’re nudging him forward after toying with his sexual frustration, and in this moment, Eren decides to put a stop to it.

He stomps forward until he’s looming over you, a sharp scowl twisting his features. “Stop playing dumb, [Name]. You know damn well what you were doing when you sent me that text,” he snarls, sea green eyes stormy and narrowed. “I’m done with these games, alright? If you’re not going to take responsibility for making me like this, then– then I will.” He almost falters from the weight of your eyes, the way they just sit there, waiting and unfazed, but he steels his composure. “You’re just a brat anyway,” he says, leaning in. “All you really want is for someone to put you back in your place.”

That smile hasn’t left; hasn’t so much as twitched. In the position you’re in, you’re looking up at him, but the way you’re doing it makes it feel as though Eren is the one looking up, the one being looked down on. “Well... you’re right about me knowing what i was doing,” you admit, “but the rest? Not so much. Not for me, anyway.” You trace the collar of Eren’s t-shirt with your fingertips, drag your palm down his chest...

You suddenly bunch up the fabric and yank it with a tight fist. Your other hand catches Eren’s shoulder and keeps him steady as his palms land on either side of you, knees bent and head in the crook of your neck. “Come now, Jaeger. Do you really think I’m the brat in this situation?” You say softly, your breath warm and your lips featherlight as they graze his ear lobe. “Put me back in my place?” you giggle quietly and it reverberates through eren’s skull like a thunder clap. “Does that really sound like something you want to do to me?” He can feel the way you smile against the shell of his ear, the wetness of your teeth. “Or is that just the only way you know how to ask for something to be done to you?”

Eren is hidden in your neck yet he feels completely exposed. He wants to mask the way your words make his breathing stutter, but when you’re this close, even he knows it’s no use. All he can do is stay right where he is, frozen in a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.

You shove Eren back and he crumbles to the floor on all fours. “That’s more like it.” You tilt your head at him as he sits up on his knees. “Doesn’t this feel so much better?”

Eren doesn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but it does feel better. His gaze drops to his lap in shame but that’s where he sees the even more shameful bulge that’s formed between his legs. he instinctually covers it up, but he’s too late, and his attempt at hiding it only confirms what you already know. You reach over and angle his head up by his chin. You have an unimpressed expression on your face, but your eyes contrast it with their fiery intrigue. “Wow, Eren,” you say through an amused sigh as you lean in close to his face. “Are you seriously hard right now?”

He swallows nervously and presses his thighs together. His breathing is already faltering in his chest, but he tries to keep it steady as he replies, “You can’t blame me. You’ve been teasing me ever since you left me at the party. Just like this.”

A hand yanks his head back by his hair and Eren is unable to stop the moan that escapes him. He chews on his lip as you sneer down at him. “Being left like that was exactly what you deserved,” you mutter, then you raise your eyebrows, feigning a contemplative expression, “but maybe another, harsher punishment is what you need to learn your lesson, hm?”

Eren’s dick twitches and he would’ve nodded too, if he didn’t register at the last minute that punishments aren’t meant to be enjoyed.

You catch it anyway, and scoff. “Of course, you’d like that, you fucking whore.” You let go of his hair and lean back. eren stares at you, confused, until you pat your lap. “Sit,” you tell him. Your posture is relaxed, in contrast to his, which tenses as he straddles your lap, resting his hands on your shoulders. Your eyes widen and you smile incredulously. “I guess leaving you like that wasn’t entirely useless, huh?” you laugh to yourself and massage along his hips and thighs before finally tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down, slowly, along with his underwear. A shudder runs down Eren’s spine at the touch of cool air on his skin. His hard cock bumps against his abdomen, leaving behind a shiny smudge of precum. You tap his wet tip and draw circles around it, making Eren hiss and briefly dig his nails into your shoulders.

“Don’t–” he stops himself when you glance up at him.

Your eyebrows raise. “What was that?” you ask, but he just swallows and remains silent. “Use your manners, baby. You’ve done it once before, so I know you can.” Your other hand snakes under his t-shirt and caresses his side. “Don’t get shy now. If you’re cute enough, I might give you a reward.”

Eren shifts in your lap. There’s a pause. then, “Please.”

You chuckle. “Come on, ‘Ren,” you say, “you can do better than that.”

He looks exasperated, but tries again anyway. “Please,” he repeats. “Please just– just touch me. Please.”

He makes it too easy to tease him, you think, as you grin wickedly. “But I’m touching you right now, aren’t I?”

Eren groans. “Yes but– you’re not–” He jumps as you dip your nail gently into his slit. “Fuck, just put your hand around my cock please.”

You surprise him by doing exactly that, a loud moan being torn out of him. Your grip is tight as you drag your fingers down his length, spreading his precum. With how pent up he’s been, Eren feels like he’s close already. His body tingles with pleasure and anticipation. It’s almost too much, yet not enough, the way you slide your hand up then down, up then down, steady and unrushed. Just as Eren is about to ask you to go faster, you rotate your hand over his leaking tip and he chokes on his words. You do it again, and again, before returning to your previous motions. You repeat this, changing your pace a few times, just to watch him squirm, before resuming your steady pumping. Eren begins to wonder if you’re waiting for him to beg more, if you’ll just keep doing this until he asks you to go faster, but the next time you change your pace, it’s fast and doesn’t stop, just goes even faster. Eren stumbles over his breaths. He’s relieved, but at the same time it’s too fast. “Fuck, slo– slow down,” he says in a strangled voice. He is hurtling toward his orgasm, he’s definitely not going to last. Shit, how were you able to go so fast and hard at the same time? It felt like he was on fire. He’s so–

You stop.

A single meek drop of precum trickles down Eren’s dick.

“No–” He groans. “What the fuck? Why did– why didn’t you–”

��Did you forget already?” you interrupt, grinning from ear to ear. Eren’s lips remain pursed in frustration. “This is your punishment, remember?”

A range of emotions pass over Eren’s face: realisation, horror, anger, desperation, self-pity. You watch his inner conflict set aflame, how he looks down at his aching dick, how his fingers twitch and one hand even goes as far as to dip down to try and touch himself, but you grab it and place it back around your neck. “Only I get to touch you, and only I will decide when you get to cum,” you tell him and Eren curses under his breath but stays put. From there, you go back to touching him. You bring him to the edge, over and over, abusing your knowledge of all his weak spots, squeezing and rubbing and pumping vigourously for what must be at least eight times; until his speech is slurred and his pleas are barely intelligible.

When you let go for the final time, you hear him sniffle against your neck.

“That bad, huh?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. You slip your hands beneath his shirt and trace the smooth plains of his torso, up and down, feeling the muscles ripple and writhe from the barely-there touch. “Okay,” you say, “you’ve been good, so I’ll reward you now.” His hips jut out violently and grind against your stomach. You grab his drenched cock and suck your teeth in disapproval. “Don’t ruin it by getting too greedy now, Eren.”

He stares at you, turquoise irises engulfed in black pupils, and licks his lips. “What’s my reward?”

You just smile. “You’ll find out soon enough,” you answer. You pull up his waistband and snap it against his sensitive cock, making him yelp. “First, I want you to get up and take off your clothes.”

Eren is eager and obeys quickly, making a show of it as he does; flexing his muscles a little more than necessary, his movements slow and sensual and tempting because that’s just how he’s done this every time before this. But the sooner that usual ego of his rises, the sooner it falls, because once he’s down to his last item of clothing — his boxers — he just stands there like he doesn’t know what to do next. He does, of course, but he’s feeling what seems like dread at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. Not because he’s insecure, but the fact that it’s you he’s showing it to; you with your fox grins and cruel, humiliating words, your rough treatment and watchful eyes... Fuck, just the thought is making him harder, and then even harder as he wonders if you can see it. Will you point it out? Will you make fun of him? Call him names?

Eren jumps when you graze his crotch with the end of your foot. “Having second thoughts?” you say, teasing but serious all the same.

“No,” he says without hesitating.

“Then go on.” You lift your foot and Eren tenses in anticipation, but you just grin wider and point to the head of his dick, peering out slightly from his boxers, without touching it. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

He slides the waistband down his thighs and lets it drop to his feet, then steps out and tosses the garment aside. You’re still fully clothed and relaxed while you look him up and down. Eren slides a hand over the top of his hair, pushing away the fallen strands. He thought he felt exposed earlier, but now it’s even worse. Your eyes are practically devouring him, but you can’t help it. The way he’s standing there, completely nude while you aren’t, waiting for your next command while staring at you with those dark aqua eyes from under pretty dark eyelashes. No number of late-night fantasising would do this sight justice, yet you wonder if you can make it even better. You wonder if you can push him just a little bit further, see how much more you can bend him before he breaks.

“You look nervous, Eren,” you say. “Are you sure you–”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sure,” he all but gasps out.

You arch an eyebrow at his interruption. “I was going to say are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me?” you clarify. “For all I know, you’re just a slut who’ll pounce on anyone. How do I know I’m not just a set of holes to you, hm?”

Eren frowns. “No, that’s not–” He steps closer to you and sinks to his knees in front of you. “I only want you, [Name]. No one...” His cheeks flush hot and he looks away from your eyes. “No one else could fuck me as good as you.”

It’s not the entire truth and you know that. You’ve always been good at reading people. Though Eren may be better than the average person at lying, around you? All of that depletes and he becomes an open book. “And how would you know that?” you say as you lean back on your palms.

“I don’t,” Eren says as he places his hands on your knees, “but maybe you can show me?”

It’s pathetic yet so beautiful to see a man like Eren Jaeger like this: on his knees and at your disposal. I5’s almost a shame you couldn’t get here sooner, but you’ve always believed in delayed gratification, in trusting the process and the like; that’s why you adore men like him, who’ve only ever been doms and have never even considered anything else. It’s so much fun to string them along, allow them to unknowingly fall into a false sense of security, to make them think you’re just another obedient little sub, and how once you’ve built that up enough, breaking them is all the sweeter.

The shift of you leaning forward makes Eren sit up. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but you gently petting his hair definitely isn’t it. He melts, dropping his head and resting his cheek against your knee, just like you thought he would. After all, you noticed that pushing back loose hair is a nervous tic of his, and so naturally this kind of touch comforts him. You smile fondly at that.

The tender moment is broken by Eren humping your leg. You’re not sure if he even realises he’s doing it. His eyes are shut and he’s whimpering like a dog. The grasp he has around your knees tightens. “Eren,” you say to him and he seems to regain some awareness, stopping his movement and looking up at you. “Would you like your reward?”

He breathes out like he’s been holding it. “Please.”

You pat the space behind you. “Come lay down.”

He does so and you wait for him to get comfortable before perching yourself on his lap. You begin by sliding your hands up his torso and back down again, tracing the dips and curves of his body. You litter kisses from his neck to his collarbone and chest. Your breath ghosts over a nipple and Eren shivers. You take a second to smile before flicking your tongue over the dark pink bud. His chest raises off the bed and into your mouth as you latch onto the nub and swirl your tongue around it. Your hand makes work of his other nipple and Eren’s hips buck into you. A string of spit forms and snaps as you pull away and resume your path down his torso, pecking down his belly, hip and finally, his inner thigh. You feel Eren squirm as your cool breaths hit his drooling cock. You flatten your tongue and lick up from the base, kissing the tip wetly before taking it into your mouth and sucking hard. Eren throws his head back and moans, fallen strands fanning out against the pillows. His hips are restless, so you hold them down while you slide down to the base, then back up to suck on the tip again. Your motions are smooth, aided by saliva and precum, as you begin to bob your head up and down his length.

Eren’s fingers find your hair and cling there. You break away to mutter a cautionary, “Easy,” then swallow down his cock again, moving quicker now. With how you’ve been teasing and edging him, you suspect that he’ll come soon. His sounds get higher and louder, more frequent, and every so often the hands on your head flinch or scratch or curl.

“I’m close, I’m close,” Eren warns through laboured breaths. His skin is damp with sweat, long strands sticking to his forehead in curled shapes. “Please le– let me come.”

You answer him by not stopping, by using your hand to pump the bottom half of his cock while continuing to suck on the rest with hollowed cheeks and wet lips.

“Fuck, m’gonna c– ah! Fuck, please let– please!” His back arches, sheets peeling off his skin before he collapses again, abdomen contracting. “Please say I can–” His nails dig into your scalp as he moans, drawn out and loud. Hot fluid fills up your mouth and throat. You swallow and don’t cease moving until eren is pawing at your face and mumbling about how it’s too much. Afterwards, unable to hold back your teasing nature, you give a few kitten licks to his reddened tip, enjoying how it makes him whine and jolt.

“I take it you liked your reward then?” you say, pushing away the stringy hair around his cheeks and forehead.

“Yeah,” Eren pants, and as he’s lying there, all blissed out and in the process of winding down from his high, you’re gazing down at him in a way he’s only been able to dream of until now and he realises that sure, blowjobs aren’t anything special or revolutionary, but everything leading up to it is what made it so amazing, you are what made it so amazing. You’re everything he didn’t know he wanted, the key that unlocked his hidden desires, and even if you were to leave him hard and aching for your touch again, even if you teased him to no end and laughed at him and called him names, he’d still come back if you gave him the chance because he loves it. He loves you.

You lean in and kiss Eren; delicately, kindly, with care and a gentle want, a peaceful want reserved for lovers, because somewhere along the way you started to develop feelings for him. Eren had only hoped for such a thing, thought that it was wishful thinking and delusion that gave him the impression you might feel the same way. Maybe you didn’t at the beginning; maybe it started out as just lust, but right now you love him and he loves you. The lust is still there, but it’s soft now, and so much more than it was.

[fatkish]

Request for the Pro Heroes x child reader

Character(s): Hawks and/or Endeavor (yes I'm giving this man a chance to be a good person)

Prompt: Abandoned nonbinary reader with a Phoenix quirk (wings and fire) and everyone thinks they'll be a Villain because of how hot the reader's fire can burn. Phoenixes in Japan are seen as goddesses. (Reader was originally abandoned for coming out at nonbinary but the deal was sealed when the reader accidentally burned a house down)

-🦦

Thank you so much for your request. I’m so excited since this is my first official request. I already had an idea for a phoenix quirk so I hope you don’t mind that I used it here. I hope you enjoy this story and that it helps you.

Hawks and Endeavor x Phoenix Quirk Child Reader

Reader was 13 when they were found by Hawks and Endeavor

The reader’s mother had an endurance and adaptability quirk that allowed her to change her body to better fit her environment. For example: if the reader’s mother was stuck in the desert, her body would change to allow her to store excess water similar to how a camel does. Or if bullets were fired at her, she could thicken her skin and produce osteoderms (these are the small bone like plates that cover the crocodilian species’s backs)

The reader’s father had a weak heat quirk and could grow sharp feathers from his arms and shoulders.

Their parents were very traditional and strict. Having been a late bloomer was already causing strain on their relationship with their parents.

The reader developed their quirk late at the age of 10. The reader has retractable wings that are covered in specialized feathers. The Primary and Secondary feathers are sharp and resemble blades, these feathers harden after they fully develop. The Primary and Secondary Coverts are hard and sharp at the tips. When the tips of the Coverts rub or strike each other it creates a spark.

Each feather has microscopic holes along the Calamus and a gland beneath the follicle that secretes an Ethanol based, oil-like substance that covers their skin protecting it from the flames but also acting as a fuel. This oil is similar to Bakugou’s nitroglycerin sweat as they both produce more, the hotter they get. (Ethanol burns at an extremely high temperature but is invisible to the naked eye, you won’t know its there until you’re right next to it) The holes allow for the oil to cover the feathers.

Due to their Mother’s endurance quirk, the reader’s body is unaffected by the flames they produce. The reader’s body sweat has a natural cooling effect as well as burn soothing and healing properties. This is how they are not burned by the flames. (The reader has to maintain a healthy hydration and drink lots of water because they are easily susceptible to dehydration)

Due to the reader’s quirk their body is naturally androgynous as they don’t have feminine curves or broad shoulders. The reader is short (5’2, sorry if you’re taller) and has a lighter than average body fat percentage to allow for easier flight. (Reader would most likely have a small penis like appendage to make urinating easier as well as a Cloaca. It’s also possible that reader could change their bodies physiology similar to how frogs can change their genders)

Due to the reader’s late development of a quirk as well as their androgynous appearance, they were seen as a freak and were bullied and shunned by their peers.

At age 12 the other kids around them began puberty and as their peers’s bodies began to change and developed they began to question themselves and eventually came to the conclusion that they were nonbinary.

One night their parents sat the reader down and began to discuss the reader’s appearance and how they needed to change in order to fit into society. Since the reader would have a harder time developing fat and couldn’t change the bone structure of their hips, their parents decided that the reader would be a male.

Their parents told them that they were to start working out and building up muscles to create a more masculine appearance. They began telling them about all the things they would have to change and even suggested drastic measures like surgery or hormone treatments to make them look more masculine.

The reader tried to explain to their parents how they felt and how they didn’t want to do all that stuff but they wouldn’t listen.

Eventually the stress became too much as the reader’s wings sprouted and their feathers naturally created a spark that ignited them. As the situation quickly became more complicated and stressful the reader accidentally bumped into a curtain, lighting it on fire, causing it to quickly grow and spread.

As their parents were shouting at them and their house went up in flames, they couldn’t deal with the stressful situation and flew off into the night sky, leaving their small town and flying far away to were they would discover in the morning to be Kyushu

After being ostracized and shunned for basically their entire life, the reader didn’t have much faith in society. Eventually they saw a news report about their hometown. Their parents claimed that their house was destroyed by a villain and blamed the reader for it, completely ignoring the fact of them being their child. The news showed a blurry picture of the reader that was taken by someone.

Due to the blurriness of the image as well as the reader having not really shown anyone their quirk, they weren’t easily identified. However, the news gave a short description of the reader and advised the public to keep an eye out for them and to alert the authorities should they spot the reader.

Realizing that they had no food, money, shelter or family and fearing being seen as a villain and being put in prison, should they ask for help, the reader decided that they had no other choice but to focus on survival.

2 months had gone by with the reader being homeless and barely scraping by. They had found an abandoned building in the less populated and more industrial area of the city and had created a small living space. They had gathered things that people had thrown away like tattered or stained clothes, old bedding, thrown out area rugs and other soft things that people had thrown away and wouldn’t realize were missing. They created a makeshift nest that made them feel safe

They had resorted to dumpster diving in order to find food and water and refused to pick pocket or steal purses. They didn’t want to do things that would make the accusations of them being a villain, true. This led to them being malnourished and having lost a lot of weight and having an emaciated and boney appearance

Hawks and Endeavor had been working together to capture a group of robbers who had been committing a string of robberies but kept getting away. Earlier in the day, the pair had apprehended and caught the group, but two of the seven had managed to escape and fled.

The robbers fled and hid in an abandoned building and planned to lay low and wait for the chance to escape the city, unaware of the red feather stuck and hidden in one of their hoods.

Hawks and Endeavor gathered the police and their sidekicks and had them surround the area near the building. The plan was to wait for the two villains to feel safe and let their guard down, then Hawks and Endeavor would storm the building, if they tried to flee, they would be caught by their sidekicks.

Using a few feathers to scope out the area and get an idea of the perpetrators positions, Hawks sent feathers into the building and relayed the information to Endeavor

Upon sensing a third body inside the building Hawks was going to tell Enji about it but felt someone grab his feather

Realizing that the element of surprise might no longer be on their side, Hawks alerted Endeavor. Inside the building, the robbers had finally noticed the reader and started to attack them when the reader summoned their wings and began to defend themselves

Since it was nighttime, the reader’s flames were emitting a blue glow similar to Dabi’s flames. Thinking that Dabi was in the building, Hawks and Endeavor rushed into the building only to quickly duck as one the robbers was sent flying over their heads from a strong wind

Using his feathers, Hawks was able to knock out the distracted robber and carry them both outside where the police quickly restrained and arrested them

Inside the building, Endeavor and Hawks had turned their attention to the reader. Upon realizing that the reader was just a kid, Hawks tried to tell them to stand down and stop their quirk. His feathers could sense the reader’s heartbeat, telling him that they were obviously scared.

When the reader tells them that they are unable to control the flames and that their wings secrete Ethanol to fuel them Endeavor is reminded of His first born son’s death

Having been living on the streets, the reader was unable to stay sufficiently hydrated and thus quickly ran out of protective sweat, causing the reader to begin being burnt

Hearing the kid’s screams of pain, Endeavor snapped out of his thoughts and quickly instructed Hawks to grab flame repressing foam from the the fire department and use his feathers to dump it on the reader

After following his instructions, the flames were quickly put out. Endeavor went over to the reader and carefully began to help them clean off the foam as he began to check the reader’s burns. Hawks took the moment to survey their surroundings and found the reader’s nest and realized that the reader was living here

Once the reader is calmed down and retracts their wings, Hawks asks about why the reader, a child, is living in an abandoned building

Fearing their situation but knowing that lying would only worsen their situation, the reader begins to explain their situation, telling the heroes what happened and why they are living here

As the police began to search the area and start to finish up their business there, Endeavor and Hawks both realize that the reader shouldn’t be returned to their parent’s custody but that placing them in the foster system would be bad due to their inability to control their relatively new quirk.

Due to developing their quirk later than others, the reader wasn’t given the same counseling and guidance that people normally get. Endeavor, having seen the reader’s potential as well as hoping to spare them the same fate that took his son, decided to become the reader’s legal guardian. Hawks, having plenty of experience with his wings and feeling a kinship with the reader, decides to become a mentor/older brother/fun uncle figure to the reader

Endeavor takes the reader to his home and has them get settled in.

Endeavor may seem grumpy and unapproachable but the reader quickly grows on him as Enji develops a soft spot for the reader.

Enji tries to teach the reader how to control their flames but is constantly reminded of how he trained his children and worries that the reader will hate him

Eventually Hawks is able to teach the reader to control their flames when he tries to have the reader cook chicken with them. Hawks originally intended it as a joke but Endeavor saw the accidental genius and decided that it was a good idea. Hawks just wanted some chicken

The reader has a tendency to build nests as a result of their father’s side of the family having mostly bird related quirks. One day Enji comes home from patrol to see the reader has built a giant nest in his living room. The reader is sitting in the nest in front of the TV. Hawks walks into the room with popcorn, snacks and drinks. After much convincing, Enji finally agrees to sit with them and watch a movie

Half way through the movie the reader falls asleep and snuggles up to Enji’s side. Wrapping an arm around them, Enji lets them sleep as he realizes how much he’s missed out on with his other kids. It’s at this moment that Enji promises himself and the reader that he’ll be better and that he’ll cherish these small moments

Hawks and Enji don’t care about the reader’s appearance, they understand that their quirk just makes their body different from others and they accept it.

Hawks will often visit the reader and they’ll preen each other’s wings. Hawks likes to make spa days out of this. He’ll take them to a bath house or bring bath salts to them. After relaxing in the bath he’ll either have a masseur give them both massages or they’ll massage each other. After that they’ll both take turns inspecting the other’s wings removing old or damaged feathers, combing the feathers, etc. after that Hawks will do face masks with the reader and basically anything that he can use as an excuse to relax

Overall, the reader is an irreplaceable part of Enji and Hawks’s lives now

I hope you enjoyed this.

[spadecentral]

🐑 Sheep in Wolf's Clothing | Yuu

>> requested: yes, by an anon >> a/n: anon i actually love you this promt got me out of a slump

>> masterlist: here!! >> summary: being tall is probably more scary than having magic to the average population >> reader prns: he/him (FOR ALL MY MALE!READERS!!!!) >> warning(s): TALL ; third person

When he first came to Twisted Wonderland, everyone was actually terrified. Downright distraught because they already have enough people with scary magic, but he's more terrifying because he could beat one of them up without any of it. Ace actually didn't ask him to stay the night when he was kicked out of the dorm, and instead slept outside. That's how terrifying Yuu is to other students.

Not a lot of people actually see Yuu fighting, which they would peg as odd, but no one really wants to cross him so they all steer clear.

The first time anyone sees him in any kind of confrontation, the crowd all starts sweating buckets. That was, at least, until they realized the calm composure Yuu had on his face. Which by that point people were running out of the halls screaming for their lives. When they saw the person Yuu was arguing with later without any bruises or cuts, that's when they start to become suspicious.

Leona, in some brilliant stroke of genius on the Seven's part, is actually one of Yuu's first friends in Twisted Wonderland. Yuu, a calm and gentle soul, found solace in the botanical gardens. He would visit often, and by chance, met with the Savanaclaw housewarden.

After that, there was a mixed opinion on the Ramshackle attendee. The two general sides were either a) he's got to be good if he's managed to become friends with Leona, or b) he's in cahoots with Leona, he's definitely a delinquent.

Deuce does manage to befriend him, though. Since he was a delinquent once himself, he thinks that he could change Yuus mind about being one if he was one. But even after realizing that Yuu is just misunderstood, he still stays friends with him because he felt bad about stereotyping him. He does tell Yuu though.

One day, about halfway through the school year, Yuu does finally have enough of the bubble that surrounds him wherever he walks and decides to ask Deuce about it.

"Deuce," Yuu starts, "I have a question for you." "Hm? Yeah, what's up homie?" Deuce asks, trying to steady the pile of papers and books he's holding. "What's up with people avoiding me? It's a little... annoying, to say the least." he queries, lips curled up in an awkward smile. "You mean you don't know? I'd think it'd be obvious." Deuce stops for just a second, a drop of sweat forming at his forhead. "Not that I'm saying you're dumb or any—" "Don't worry, I'm not offended," Yuu waves off Deuce's rambling. "I was just curious." "Your height makes you scary to them," Deuce admits. "They have a rumor going that you're a delinquent." Yuu pauses a moment before breaking out into a soft giggle. "Interesting."

Yuu doesn't mind the bubble as much as he once did, although it still does irritate him.

His choice of friends does feed into the rumors, though. Which probably isn't a good thing, but he enjoys spending time with his friends so there's not much he can do to stop it.

[prentissluvr]

OKAY HERE ARE SOME SAM THOUGHTS BEFORE I CLEAN MY ROOM (some platonic but mostly romantic)

loves getting his hair played with (romantically and platonically)

main love language is quality time

could have this giant on his knees if you compliment constantly (his looks or his personality) (mainly his personality) (he knows and is aware of how conventionally attractive he is but isn’t cocky about it) (like another winchester LOL)

runs warmer than the average human being so he’s your personal heater in the winter

but in the summer you make sure he stays far away from you bc man sweats A LOT in his sleep 😭😭

I HAVE MORE BUT I GOTTA CLEAN MY ROOM

ILL BE BACK LATER WITH DEAN AND MORE SAM 🤭🤭

djhJHFSKDJ SAMMMMM AAA okay okay bear with me while i go absolutely insane LMAO. like this is long LOL so i am gonna add a cw for anyone who stumbles upon our time of feeding each others delusions <3 i got carried away ahahahaha hehehehehe i'm normal about him tho!

wc: 1.6K. cw: kissing, a bit of swearing, brief mention of things trying to kill you bc that's the life lol, unedited

⟢ playing with his hair : do NOT get me started on sam's hair <3 it's always so pretty, and you have to make that known! sure, you do it out loud, but we'll get to the complimenting in a bit hehe. your favorite way of making it known (and definitely his) is by playing with it. constantly. and he can never get enough. sure, he gets embarrassed or picky about it around dean, like he does with just about anything romantic or sweet (mostly because dean won't ever let that sort of thing go un-teased). but he just loves so much to lay his head in your lap and let you thread your fingers through that pretty brown hair <33 it makes him feel so relaxed, and cared for in a way that doesn't feel overbearing or overly obvious.

and he loves it especially it because he knows that you do. he can feel you physically relax from under him when you sweetly run your hands through his hair, gently pulling apart any small knots and taking your time to take care of that gorgeous head of hair. he will also certainly melt and try to hide the pink tint to his cheeks when you reach for his hair unexpectedly, like when you lean in to fix a fly-away strand or full on card your hands through his hair when he's in the middle of research and didn't notice you approach.

also!! put your hands in his hair when he's kissing you!!! please!!! he's begging on his knees!!! god, he loves that so so much and he gets a secret ego boost because, once again, he can physically feel how much you love it too. he'll always kiss you harder when your hands move to tangle themselves in his hair.

gets embarrassed if you put little braids in his hair, especially as he grows older and it grows longer, but he can't resist how much it makes you smile, so he lets you get away with it if dean isn't around. and just imagine putting pretty clips in his hair LOL he pouts and asks you to take them out immediately, but not before kissing the smug grin off of your lips. will die and try his hardest to delete them if you ever get pictures of him like that, but you keep your blackmail well protected hehe.

as for platonically, that is facts! he thinks its very sweet if you're his best friend or sibling! it's not as big a thing as it would be in a romantic relationship, but he'll love to have his hair played with by anyone willing <33

⟢ love language; quality time : this is like almost sad and especially sweet at the same time because the poor boy has no time to spend much quality time with you. but again, this kind of makes this whole thing sweeter because that means each moment is just that much more precious. obviously, he'd love to be spending quality time with you by going on dates in the park, taking you to a nice restaurant that's not too stuffy, or something even as simple as taking you to the movies. but those things are hard to do, so to him, any time spent with you without the presence of something trying to kill you can be turned into that precious quality time.

for him, it's about sitting on the couch with your legs strewn over him or his head on your lap or yours on his shoulder (really any sort of thing keeping him connected to you) as you pour over lore books. it's about the seamless exchange when the two of you figure out how to kill your monster or save the world together. it's about posing as fbi to get answers and slipping his hand into yours when no one's looking or grabbing a decent breakfast together before the start of a busy day. all he cares about, the things he treasures, are you falling asleep on him in the back of the impala because he gave up shotgun to sit next to you, taking months, maybe longer to get through one season of a tv show together, and always taking even just a small moment out of a busy day to be together.

⟢ complimenting him : it's true that he needs less assurance about his looks because he certainly is aware that he is fine as fuck. but let's definitely establish that he adores to hear praise about his looks specifically from you because duh! he's in love with you and you're the only one he cares about!!

but yeah, when you compliment his personality, his sweet, loving, courageous hot sometimes completely idiotic and frustrating self?? oh he's done for. he's honestly far less used to that. when you're half asleep, and you murmur into his chest that you think he's so smart, kind, funny, loving, and brave and that you couldn't be more proud to be his? he's complete mush in your arms, he can't believe it.

"that's all you, baby," he'll refute, and you'll certainly grow bashful under his compliment, but you want him to accept it, at least a little bit. "i mean it, sammy, i really do." your voice is all soft and sleepy, and oh so earnest that he can't help the aching of his heart. "i know you do," he'll whisper, suddenly emotional and not wanting you to hear it. "i'm just glad you think so. i'll always do my best to be those things for you," and that's the kind of thing he only admits when the sole light in the room comes from a dim, clouded over moon and your head is tucked under his chin so you can't see his face. he means it, of course, but he's not used to such vulnerability and blatant adoration.

he'll clench his jaw when you tell him you know that, but that it's true that he's all those things and more for so many people, the few close ones, and all the ones he passes by and does his best to save. he doesn't fully believe you, he's got a lot of guilt built up in that sweet mind of his. and it's true he's not perfect, but you never said that. all you're trying to tell him is that you love who he is, so much, and he can never thank you enough for that.

bonus, he really really loves when you tell him you think he's funny. it's definitely an ego booster, plus he loves loves loves to know that he can always make you smile and laugh.

⟢ your personal heater : this is literally sooo true. he's so big with so much body mass that he'd have so much body heat to give off. but i so agree that on top of that, he'd also totally be on the warmer side. if you're naturally warm as well, then you two are an unstoppable force in the winter time (the both of you are lulled to sleep by the other's body heat in a matter of minutes). either way, he'll always envelope you in hugs when it gets cold because he knows it'll warm you up right away. he doesn't have to ask to know when you're cold, because you'll always press yourself to him, maybe grabbing his arm and pulling it around yourself before even saying a thing to him.

"you cold?" he'll ask sweetly, and after feeling your nod and hearing your muffled "mhmm," he's quick to wrap his other arm around you too and pull you closer.

for the folks with cold hands like me, he's always trying to warm them up with his own. whether you've slipped your hand in to his just to be near and they're particularly chilly, or he can see you trying to warm your hands up yourself, he's quick to take up both of your hands in his to warm them up. when he grabs up both of your hands, he'll pull them to his chest and hold them there until he's satisfied they're warm. he'll look into your eyes and talk about something completely unrelated, all casual as if he's not making you flustered. other times, he'll warm up one hand at a time, encasing it in both of his own, rubbing it and blowing warm air on it before gently slipping it into his warm, warm pockets and moving on to the other.

also, if he finds out your face is cold, he'll cup your cheeks with his large, furnace hands or full on just pull your face into his head or neck to warm you up that way.

but yeah😭😭 summer can be a lot less pleasant. if you manage to have cold hands even in the summer (i could never i wish), he'll try to steal the coolness from your hands and you'll be like oh my god please stop i'll die LOL.

and you're like nooo babe of course i want to sleep with you, you just have to stay as far away as possible and never touch me because it might burn me to death. if he's tired and touch-starved younger sam will pout at you and tell you he just wants to cuddle. later seasons sam just won't take no for an answer and will just pull you to him until he gets too hot himself lmao. he'll make sure there's a fan on you first and a glass of ice water on your bedside. basically he loves that he's warm in the winter because it brings you closer to him, then gets pissed about it in the summer because you don't want him too close unless there's sufficient a/c or some other form of ventilation to make it cooler lol.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Eggplant (The Surprise, Part 18)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: nightmares, mentions of Emily's fake death, mentions of past sexual trauma (nothing graphic though), discussions of birth/delivery times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.1k

Summary: You've always struggled with sleep and nightmares, but the third trimester is making it worse than ever. Thankfully, Emily is always there to calm you down and take your mind off the bad dreams.

Note: I know the gif is the man that we can't stand! But it was the most appropriate one! Just use your imagination! Replace him with reader!

Week 28: The Eggplant

You jerked awake, gasping and flailing, struggling to sit up against the weight of your baby bump. Sweat pooled in the dips of your collarbone and at the nape of your neck, dampening the soft strands of hair that rested there.

You blinked in the darkness, sucking in great gulps of air, feeling for Emily next to you. She was already up, already pressing her hand into yours and squeezing your palm, already drawing you into her chest, holding you protectively.

“Hey, hey,” she cooed, “it’s okay. You’re alright. It’s just a dream.”

Your heart raced, and you snaked your arms around Emily’s waist, burying yourself in her. You coughed, your breath still caught in your throat. She ran her thumb gently along the side of your face, wiping away the tears that lingered from the dream.

You’d always had more vivid dreams–and more often–than the average person. As a child, you’d even been diagnosed with a sleep disorder characterized by horrific nightmares. It had faded, but not gone away, as you grew up. After a lot of trial and error, you’d discovered that taking ashwagandha supplements before bed largely put a stop to the nightmares.

But you weren’t allowed to take ashwagandha while you were pregnant or breastfeeding. You’d been lucky until now–the nightmares had been few and far between, despite not being able to take your usual sleep aid. But when you hit the third trimester, they’d come back in full force. Almost every night, horrifically realistic, so terrifying that you were often scared to go back to sleep afterward for fear the dreams would resume. You’d tried melatonin, Benadryl, Tylenol PM, Unisom, and doxylamine. Tonight, you’d tried magnesium. The only thing it’d done was make you have to get up and take a shit in the middle of the night.

Your heart rate was slowing, but your body still shook. You grasped onto Emily’s t-shirt desperately, as if it was the only thing tethering you to the world. Sometimes the dreams involved your family. But most often these days they were about Emily.

“I guess that’s a no on the magnesium, huh?” Emilly whispered, her breath warm at the top of your head. “You want to talk about it?”

You let out a shaky breath, holding her just a bit tighter. “You died again,” you said, your voice so soft she almost couldn’t hear you. You were afraid to speak it into existence.

You could see Emily’s face without seeing it. Always wracked with guilt, always heartbroken. She always told you that going into WITSEC after Doyle, letting you and her team believe she was dead for nearly a year, was the worst thing she’d ever done. There had been no way around it; you knew it and she knew it. You didn’t like to bring it up, didn’t like to make her feel bad. She’d done what she had to do to protect herself, and as much as her fake death had devastated you–destroyed you, even–you couldn’t bring yourself to hold it against her.

“It was Doyle,” you whispered into her neck. “He made me watch.” You shuddered, and Emily grasped your face in both of her hands, turning you gently so she could look you in the eyes. She brushed a strand of hair out of your face and sighed.

“He’s dead, honey,” Emily said firmly. “I will never do that to you again.”

A tear ran down the side of your face, part of your brain still stuck in the dream, still watching Doyle hurt Emily again and again. Emily wiped it away, replacing it with a kiss.

“It’s okay, baby,” she reassured you, her heart aching to see you so scared. “I’m okay. I’m safe.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” you choked out, more tears coming now. It was three in the morning. You were on your second week of waking up terrified every night. Emily always got up with you. She had to be tired. You were exhausted. “You should go back to sleep.”

“Nope,” she protested lightly, drawing you down to the bed with her, pressing your face to her chest. “No crying, come on. It’s okay. You’re up, I’m up. Shh, just let me hold you, alright?”

You leaned into her touch, relishing the way her fingernails felt against your scalp, the weight of her arms around you, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, the up and down of her breath.

“What’ll help?” she asked. “You want to get your mind off it? Think about something else?”

You nodded, sniffling.

“Alright,” she yawned, stretching a bit to reach inside the drawer of her nightstand. She pulled out her tablet, the light from the screen making you blink.

“What are you doing?” you asked, blinking.

“We might as well get something done, if we’re up,” she said, cradling your head in the crook of her elbow, so that she could manage the tablet and keep you close at the same time.

She opened a Google doc that she’d titled Birth Plan.

“Birth plan?” There was a series of questions and fill-in-the-blanks on there, as if Emily had copy-pasted it from another website. “I thought the plan was to have the baby. That’s the birth plan.”

She pinched at your stomach, and you giggled, squirming. “No, you dork. There’s more to it than that. And I’d rather us make the decisions now, so when you’re in labor, freaking out, we don’t miss anything.”

“I think you mean when you’re freaking out during labor.”

You watched her roll her eyes and smiled. You loved teasing Emily.

“Okay, well, regardless of who's freaking out, we need a plan. So just… lay your pretty head down and answer my questions, okay?”

You kissed the inside of her arm and nestled yourself comfortably against her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright, let’s see…” Emily said, brows furrowed, biting at the corner of her lip. Her thinking face. She meant business. “Full name and pronouns, I already know that. Partner’s name and pronouns… Due date, provider… I can fill all this out without you.”

“So then, the birth plan really is just have the baby?”

“No!” Emily insisted, scrolling. “Here. Here’s some you can answer. Have you ever… had group B strep?”

“No.”

“Been previously diagnosed with genital herpes?”

Your face went beet red. “Jesus, Em! No!”

She smirked. “I know, I just wanted to see you blush. Uh… do you have Rh incompatibility with the baby?”

“I don’t think so? I feel like Dr. Delgado would have mentioned it by now.”

“I’m putting no. Gestational diabetes?”

“No.”

“Fear of needles?”

“No, not really.”

“Have experienced–” Emily stopped suddenly, her voice stuck in her throat.

“Experienced what?” you prompted. When she didn’t answer, you poked her leg with your foot. “Emily, experienced what?”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled. “I can answer that one for you.”

“Well, now I want to know…”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let’s just move on.”

“No, Em, I want to know!”

She sighed and bit at one of her nails. You furrowed your eyebrows and took her hand.

“Have you ever experienced birth trauma or prior sexual assault,” Emily read, her voice soft.

“Oh.”

You were both quiet for a moment, your thumb running over Emily’s knuckles. “Well, I guess you did know the answer for that one…” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “Let’s keep going.”

Emily shook her head a bit, as if clearing clouds. “Uh… delivery plan… I’m assuming vaginal?”

You nodded. “What are the other options?”

“C-section or water birth.”

You shivered. “Yeah, definitely vaginal. I think I’d cry if I had to give birth in a kiddie pool.”

Emily cracked a smile, and you were glad to see her getting back to herself. “Who do you want in the room with you?”

“You.”

“Well, yeah. Anyone else, though? Your mom?”

“Just you,” you confirmed, kissing her hand.

“Whatever you want,” Emily confirmed, continuing down the list. “Do you want any music played?”

“Screamo.”

Emily laughed. “Can you imagine?”

“Alright, I’ll settle for punk.”

“I’m putting TBD,” Emily decided. “Okay, this next part is a big, long checklist, so just say yes or no, I guess.”

“Okay,” you agreed. Your heart rate was almost back to normal, your breathing calm and even as you snuggled into Emily. You were starting to feel sleepy again, and were trying not to fight it, not to let yourself get scared again.

“Lights dimmed?” Emily asked, making her way down the list.

“Uh… I guess so?”

“Room as quiet as possible?”

“Minus the punk music, yes.”

Emily fought off a smile, running a hand absentmindedly through your hair. “As few interruptions as possible?”

“...Yes?”

“As few vaginal and cervical exams as possible? Yes.” Emily’s voice grew quiet again as she read this one, and you squeezed her hand to let her know you were okay. “Hospital staff limited to my doctors and nurses only? I’m putting yes for this one, too. I don’t want any fucking students in there watching.”

You yawned, closing your eyes as you pressed your cheek against Emily’s chest. You were having a harder and harder time staying awake.

“Do you want to wear your own clothes?”

“Yes,” you mumbled.

“Your glasses?”

You looked up at her, confused. “As opposed to what? Loaner glasses?”

Emily shrugged. “No glasses, I guess?”

“No. I can’t see shit without my glasses. The baby would just be a blob.”

“So yes to your glasses… Do you want me to take pictures?”

“Of me giving birth?!” you exclaimed. “No!”

“But you’ll look so beautiful!” Emily argued.

“I’ll look like a hot plate of shit,” you shot back. “In fact, I might actually shit myself during labor. I don’t want any photographic evidence of that, thank you.”

“Fine,” Emily grumbled. “Putting no. Would you like to stay hydrated with clear liquids and ice chips?”

“What kind of question is that?” you asked, fighting off another big yawn. “Of course I want to be hydrated.”

“Do you want to eat?”

“I don’t know. Depends on how long it takes, I guess.”

“There’s no box for maybe,” Emily observed.

“Make a box, then, Emily. Jesus. You work for the FBI.”

“Mean…” she mumbled.

“Sorry. I love you.” At this point, you were half-asleep, Emily’s voice far away, as if you were underwater.

“Do you want me to catch the baby?”

“Catch the baby? What are they tossing it?”

“No, like… as he’s born.”

“As she falls out of my vagina?!”

“...Yeah.”

“Not really. I want you up with me so I can squeeze your hand and yell at you.”

Emily was quiet, and you grabbed for her hand, blinking your eyes open.

“Unless it’s important to you,” you told her. “If that’s something you want to do, then by all means.”

“No…” Emily thought out loud. “But I think I’d like to cut the umbilical cord, if that’s okay with you?”

You nodded, getting comfy again, sleep infringing on the edges of your consciousness.

“Do you want him placed on your chest right away?” When you didn’t answer, Emily prompted you again. “Y/N?”

She looked down to find you conked out, snoring softly, your arm wrapped around her stomach, legs entwined with hers. She smiled softly at you and kissed the top of your head, sneaking her hand under the fabric of your shirt to rub your back.

“I’m putting yes,” she whispered, typing quickly then turning off the tablet and setting it gently on the nightstand, careful not to shift too much and wake you.

Emily adjusted the covers so that you’d be nice and warm. She wasn’t a praying person, but she hoped against hope that you’d sleep through the rest of the night. You had huge circles under your eyes from so many nights of restless sleep. Emily was used to running on little sleep, but you weren’t. And you were growing a baby. You needed more sleep than usual, and you weren’t getting it.

She pressed her lips to your head again and again, making sure you were secure in her arms. She couldn’t go into your head and fight off the nightmares for you, but she could make sure that if and when you woke up, you felt safe right away. She could make sure she was there, make sure that the moment you gasped awake, you felt Emily next to you–real and alive and warm and very, very here.

[dreamskug]

[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: ÍVARR ]

NICKNAME:

NOT "Gramps". Not for you, anyway. Just my name.

GENDER:

Male.

STAR SIGN:

Why, checking if we’d match? Hah. Was told I’m a Scorpio. 'That check out?

HEIGHT:

With platforms or without?

ORIENTATION:

If we vibe, nothing else matters. An incubus with neat taste in personalities, I guess.

NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:

So, some Scandinavian blood in me - half, actually. Can speak the language, too - 'least something neat daddy gave me, not that the fucker's outdone himself in parenting. Mom’s an American, born in Badlands. Ever heard of her clan? Messed with witchcraft a lot, and summoning even more. Know what I’m getting at? A perfect fuckin' match, weren't they?

FAVE FRUIT:

- Yeah no. Don't even start with anything citrus. Especially don't peel this shit in front of me, alright? Nasty shit. [Interviewer]: - Just wondering, how do you feel about cardboard boxes? [Ívarr] : - Ain't purring for you, man. But nice one.

FAVE SEASON:

Fuck summer. You ever felt what's that like - the real winter nights? Pitch fuckin' dark - quiet so thick you hear the snow falling. First time I saw those snowflakes as a kid - can swear I thought they were bees.

FAVE FLOWER:

Cherry blossoms? The fuck I know, man. Ask my mainline, I grab whatever he likes.

FAVE SCENT:

Expecting me to be like - "Muahaha, the smell of fear"? Seriously, it's apparently a pheromone released in your sweat or some shit. C'mon I'm joking, it isn't my fav - keeps stinking up this damn city. Alright, a freshly baked cake is something I'd kill for.

COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:

Yeah coffee I guess? Rich, strong, black, with a splash of something fun, make it whiskey.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:

Woke up just yesterday 'cause my mainline was pulling back my eyelid, imagine? Scared the fuck out of him, no seriously, can sleep through a fuckin' bomb and I'm not joking. Average hours - a shitton honestly? That's how I got my very first cat - Dad got enough of me breaking down every single morning, cause fuck mornings. And he'd be like - this is Snowy, she's gonna live with us and she already had her breakfast, so get the fuck up. How'd I argue with Snowy? You don't mess with Snowy.

DOG OR CAT PERSON:

See? Check it out - cat fur. Here too. I'm claimed, man - gave up cleaning it up a long time ago. Not to be dramatic, but if there's anything human in me left - it's for them. Fur kids, all mine, what can I say. Two of them adopted - and you bet each of them has a bigger personality than an average gonk.

DREAM TRIP:

Dream trip, jeez... Somewhere not fucking hot?

FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:

Balrog has style, y'know? Gotta be honest, I feel for the dude. Imagine yourself sleeping deep within the mountains for thousands of years to get awoken by a bunch of motherfuckers? I'd go nuclear too. And this one too, ehh you know GoT? The Targaryen, her, yeah. Burn them all, girl. Boss move.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:

Man, your questions. I dunno, a half? With my ass covered, or not at all. Bed king sized, lights out, make it pitch black with the window open and you got me passed out.

RANDOM FACT:

One doesn't have to actually summon a demon to get them to come play, d'you know? There's one watching you through my eyes right fuckin' now. Should I introduce him?

Late to the party, but I remember many of y'all have more than one OC or just created new pixel babies that haven't participated yet, so I'm tagging (with no pressure):

@therealnightcity @wraithsoutlaws @sammysilverdyne @theviridianbunny @th3irin

@a-pirate @chessalein @halkuonn @luvwich @shimmer-like-agirl

@kdval @cybersteal @cyberholic77 @chevvy-yates @morganlefaye79

@anxious--ace @mhbcaps @wormskul @silver-samurai @androgymess

@winkyblinkyandstew @astarionhistears @valsilverhand @drunkchasind @themermaidriot

@pinkyjulien @skelior @medtech-mara @lokiina @timaeusterrored

@tokyofuturnoir @aggravateddurian @sifofasgard @elfjpeg @aurorartz

@lucky38-2077 @dustymagpie @gloryride @stannussy and anyone else who wants to! Also pls DM me if you don't wanna get tagged🖤

[marzipanandminutiae]

Hello!

I am an aspiring author who struggles with accurately portraying historical clothing, and I stumbled across your blog while searching for photographs and information on late 19th century/USA Gilded Age fashion. From the research I've seen compiled across books/the internet, the clothing of the upper class from that area is very well documented in paintings, garment catalogues, photographs, museums, etc....but finding information on what the day-to-day wear of normal people was like is proving much more difficult. Since you seem to be knowledgeable in the subject of historical clothing in this approximate time period, I was wondering if you knew about any good resources to learn more about what people who couldn't afford to follow upper class trends were wearing in the general era as well as any general information around these items.

If it helps, I'm focused on eastern and southeastern United States farming/small railroad town/mountain mining/gulf coast wetland communities, but even just more general resources about what sort of clothing that the average poor person during the Gilded Age wore would be greatly helpful. I've been able to find a few photographs here and there, but these probably aren't an accurate depiction of a persons' 'day-to-day' wear, and I also haven't found much on how women learned to sew homemade clothes, what garments if any would have been bought, where people in rural areas would have sourced their cloth, what undergarments were like, how work shoes were made & aquired, ect.

Please feel free to ignore this if it isn't something you're interested in answering as I'm sure you get a lot of asks, but I'd greatly appreciate it if you have any pointers!

So here's the thing about 19th-century clothing:

in many ways, it's the same all the way down

now, that's a serious generalization. is a farm wife in Colorado going to be wearing the same thing as a Vanderbilt re: materials, fit, and up-to-the-minute trendiness? obviously not. but because so much of what people wore back then has only survived to the present day in our formalwear- long skirts, suits, etc. -we tend to have difficulty recognizing ordinary or "casual" clothing from that period. I also sometimes call this Ballgownification, from the tendency to label literally every pretty Victorian dress a Ball Gown (even on museum websites, at times). Even work clothing can consist of things you wouldn't expect to be work clothing- yes, they sometimes worked in skirts that are long by modern standards, or starched shirts and suspenders. Occupational "crap job clothes" existed, but sometimes we can't recognize even that because of modern conventions.

A wealthy lady wore a lot of two-piece dresses. Her maid wore a lot of two-piece dresses. The trailblazing lady doctor working at the hospital down the road from her house wore a lot of two-piece dresses. The factory worker who made the machine lace the maid used to trim her church dress wore a lot of two-piece dresses. The teenage daughter of the farm family that raised the cows that supplied the city where all those people lived wore a lot of- you get the idea. The FORMAT was very similar across most of American and British society; the variations tended to come in fabrics, trims, fit precision, and how frequently styles would be updated.

Having fewer outfits would be common the further down the social ladder you went, but people still tried to have as much underwear as possible- undergarments wicked up sweat and having clean ones every day was considered crucial for cleanliness. You also would see things changing more slowly- not at a snail's pace, but it might end up being a few years behind the sort of thing you'd see at Newport in the summer, so to speak. Underwear was easier to make oneself than precisely cut and fitted outer garments for adults (usually professionally made for all but the poorest of the poor for a long time- dressmakers and tailors catering to working-class clientele did exist), but that also began to be mass-produced sooner than outer clothing. So depending on the specific location, social status, and era, you might see that sort of thing and children's clothing homemade more often than anything else. Around the 1890s it became more common to purchase dresses and suits ready-made from catalogues like Sears-Roebuck, in the States, though it still hadn't outpaced professional tailoring and dressmaking yet. Work shoes came from dedicated cobblers, and even if you lived in isolated areas, VERY few people in the US and UK wove their own fabric. Most got it from the nearest store on trips to town, or took apart older garments they already had to hand and reused the cloth for that.

I guess the biggest thing I want to emphasize is that, to modern eyes, it can be very hard to tell who is rich and who is anywhere from upper-working-class to middling in Gilded Age photographs. Because just like nowadays a custodial worker and Kim Kardashian might both wear jeans and a t-shirt, the outfit format was the same for much of society.

Candid photography can be great for this sort of thing:

Flower-sellers in London's Covent Garden, 1877. Note that the hat on the far right woman is only a few years out-of-date; she may have gotten it new at the time or from a secondhand clothing market, which were quite popular on both sides of the Atlantic.

Also London, turn of the 20th century.

A family in Denver, Colorado, c. early 1890s.

Train passengers, Atlanta, Georgia, probably 1890s.

Hope this helps!

[bigboysfalldeep]

who's in charge? - Body Swap

"On your knees." Dimitri grunts when he enters my apartment. Right away, I go down on my knees. A well-known position for me.

He would visit me nearly every day after work, after hitting the gym, or whenever he felt like it.

It all started when he caught me staring at his bare chest two months ago. As my neighbor for two years, I had seen him a lot. But I was able to hide my crush. Wearing shorts one day, which couldn't hide my erection, changed that, however.

Since then, he has entered my apartment whenever he wants, demanding a blow job. Oh, how much I enjoy this. But some part of me wants more. It wants to be like him or be him. I crave to be in control, to have a strong body and a deep, manly voice.

I searched the internet for any way to make it happen. And after weeks of desperation and a few posts on niche websites, I was approached by a man claiming to be a doctor. After talking for a while, he persuaded me to try out his latest recipe.

It's basically a smoothie-like drink that tastes disgusting and looks that way. But I didn't have to pay for it yet. The doctor told me there was one missing piece—the essential piece.

I need something from the person I want to become. In anticipation of me sucking his dick and swallowing his cum—he would always demand to cum into my mouth, some sort of power move—I drank it whole.

I can feel it inside my stomach as I steady myself against his big thighs. Dimitri won't let me touch him more than necessary, so when I let my hands run from his waistline down to his thighs, he angrily yanks my head back by my hair.

"You are not to touch me." He grunts angrily, and his accent comes through. As much as I love him being feisty, I am even more excited to see if this drink will help me. "Understood?" He pulls at my hair again, causing me to whimper.

"Yes sir." I growl, and for a second, he just watches me closely. "Good." He says and spits on my cheek before letting go of my hair.

My eyes land on his now-thick bulge forming inside his trousers. This always turns him on—so exciting.

"Now get to work." He presses my face against his bulge, and I feel his dick hit my face. Dimitri's cock is larger than average, just like his ego.

I can tell he went to the gym right before coming to me. His clothes are wet and stick to his skin; he reeks of sweat, alcohol, and smoke. His typical afternoon.

As he lets go of my head, he touches himself and his cock before pulling his pants down. To my surprise, he isn't even wearing underwear. His wet cock is dangling right in front of my face.

This is it. 

I open my mouth and move in slowly but steadily, but Dimitri is not as patient. 

"Come one." He grunts and forces me to take his entire length into my mouth. Instinctively, I start to move my mouth and tongue, enjoying his musky taste and smell.

"Fuck. Yeah. Thats right." Dimitri groans loudly and moves his hips rhythmically. 

I gag once in a while due to his cock demanding more and more space, and soon enough, I feel the first drops of pre-cum run down my throat.

It feels amazing, but I don't know what will happen next.

My stomach feels weird, bloated almost as I feel my whole body stiffening. I've never felt like this before. My body is so hard, all of me, and my dick is tenting against my pants.

"Fuuuck." Dimitri growls, and when I look up at him, I catch him stroking his chest, clawing at his drenched shirt. Does he feel the same?

His face twists in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and he looks at me and grunts like a wild animal.

"Dont fucking.." Dimitri moans loudly. "Dont stop." His accent is even more coming through, which turns me on even more.

I try to steady us and wrap my arms around his thighs, still sucking him off and edging him on.

"What is this?" He groans, his hands now underneath his shirt. I feel something similar. My entire chest is twisting and turning, but something keeps me from pulling away. I know I need more of him.

I never sucked so well before, as I use my tongue to encourage him to finally give me what I desire most.

Dimitri looks at me, and thrusts into my mouth, hard. That makes me gag, but he's reaching his limits.

He stops, and I can tell he's about to reach his limit. I look at his tortured face as I go in for the win. My tongue encompasses the tip of his delicious cock, and he can't take it anymore.

With a loud moan, he cums into my mouth again and again. His taste spreads across my mouth and slides down my throat.

Right away, the weird feeling wanders through my whole chest, engulfing me in a comforting warmth.

My mind is getting overwhelmed, but I keep sucking him dry. I need every single drop of him.

I feel myself growing bigger the more of his precious cream I swallow. At the same time, his thighs are seemingly shrinking. It gets easier to hold him in place.

"What is happening?" Dimitri panics; I can see it in his eyes. "Are you doing this?" He grabs me by my hair again, trying his best to pull me off of him, but it's futile.

Like a parasite, I'm attached to his cock, and I won't let go now. To my horror, I can see the effect on his body now.

His chest, his arms, his muscles—all of them are shrinking rapidly. He gets even tinier now.

I don't know why he keeps shooting load after load into my mouth, but I crave even more.

"GET OFF ME." His voice is pitched now, and to my horror, it has become my old voice. His whole appearance changes too.

The more I drink his cum, the more his body becomes mine. I can just tell that I grow bigger, much bigger. It doesn't hurt; instead, it feels like flying through empty space. I'm light as a feather now.

My eyes roll back into my skull, and for a moment, I lose consciousness.

When I wake up, I don't see a sign of Dimitri at first. But as I get up from the floor, I can feel something different. I look down at myself, and I am wearing his drenched clothes. They stick to my skin, and I run a hand across my now well-formed chest.

"Thats amazing." I say this using Dimitri's manly voice, including his Serbian accent. I pull out my phone and open the camera. 

It worked! I am Dimitri now.

I admire myself and start to explore my new body when I see him. Dimitri, or my old self, is standing in the corner of the room. He's scared; obviously, all of this must be surreal.

I approach him, and he acts like a coward. "Please. What have you done?" He says this with anger in his voice before he attacks me.

But my body is much stronger now. "I've taken what's mine." I grunt and block him easily.

Wrapping an arm around his neck, I start to choke him firmly.

"Please. Give it back." He cries breathlessly. This makes me chuckle. "Fuck you." I say and release him, pushing him to the floor.

"This is much better now." I say, and I start to explore my new body even more. 

It feels so good when my muscles get hard, just as my cock is already leaking again. Subconciously, I touch myself and stroke myself, making me moan deeply with Dimitris voice.

"Stop!" He says it weakly, but I proceed to smell the heavy scent of musk coming from my pits. "This is mine now." I grab my cock and walk toward the door. 

My old body cries out, but I don't care.

It's all I ever wanted.

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Edible Arrangements

fluff nation plot: your husband brings home some special brownies to share with you. content: use of marijuana, together since Jujutsu High, married (reader referred to as wife), little makeout but sfw, we are pretending geto never left gojo and is still in the picture as a sorcerer and gojo's best friend for my own mental state thank uuu word count: 4.1k satoru gojo x reader note: ahhhhhhhhh not everyone's cup of tea ik! but i thought this idea was fun since Gojo is practically on crack 99% of the time to begin with. warning i didnt proofread too thoroughly so be wary of that!

Gojo can be a lot to handle sometimes.

And by sometimes, that means most of the time.

Generally speaking, Jujutsu sorcerer Saturo Gojo is an acquired taste; his personality is one that could easily drain the average person's social battery. He is known for his unpredictable nature and impulsive ideas which are simultaneously (and somehow impressively) thought through. Knowing the sorcerer meant accepting the fact that you may never know what will happen next with him. He habitually leaves everyone around him on the edge of their toes, wondering what his next antic will be. One second he may be in an intense fight with a curse, overtaking them without a drop of sweat; the next, he might as well be spending hundreds on sweet treats he insists he needs in order to survive a second longer. While he is widely well respected for his powerful abilities and techniques, he is also commonly viewed as childish and immature. Upon first impression, one may incorrectly interpret his behavior into thinking he is on drugs - how else can he be so... out there? Yuuji once described his teacher as 'unseriously unserious' - a truly apt description.

So when Gojo struts into the door of your shared bedroom, an excited smile on his face with his hands hiding whatever he's holding behind him, you know something is up.

"Honey, I'm home!" Gojo cheesily announces his presence, entering your apartment in search of you.

""m in here," you lazily call out to him from the bedroom. You had been relaxing in your shared room after a long week, waiting for your husband to come home and alleviate all of your worries as only he can do.

You hear footsteps growing closer to the door, each step more excited than the last. The door swings open and reveals the white-haired man with an almost animatedly wide smile. His hands are behind his back, holding something, you presume. He looks more excited than he normally does coming home to you - and that is saying a lot for your Satoru. It is always his favorite thing to come home to your presence. You are sure of this, so why is he extra giddy today?

"Hi, pretty girl," he greets sheepishly. "Long day?"

"Toru," you remark, excitedly dragging the end of the name only you are allowed to call him. "Yeah, I'm exhausted. Feels like this is the first time I've had time to relax in forever. How was work for you?" You move to sit up from your position in bed as you spoke, resting your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow leaning on the pillow next to you to give you a better look at the handsome man in front of you.

The evening sun tickles you through the bright window next to you, granting you an angelic golden glow. Gojo feels every beat of his heart to the point he contemplates the likelihood of it to explode out of his chest - and, if anything, at least his cause of death would be from your beauty, because he doesn't think anything else could ever even kill him. The sight of you laying down in your bed, in the home you share, in the life you have built together, with the love you share so deeply, makes Gojo so excited. He just wants to dote on you all night, an eternity of worshipping you being all he dreams off. Satoru savors the moment he takes to admire you. How is it even possible that not even his six eyes can comprehend how beautiful you are?

Nonetheless, Gojo is on a mission and could not get too distracted this early on, or he would never get around to convincing you of participating in his plan for the two of you tonight. Even if you look so cuddly and cute wrapped in your blanket and all cozy in bed, or even if he wants to jump right in with you and snuggle the night away. He has plans he must stick to - urgent plans.

"It was like usual. Y'know, trained a little, threw the kids around some, yada yada. The boring stuff," he begins, walking toward you as he speaks. He sits on the edge of the bed with his hands lingering behind him in an attempt to keep them hidden from you. "But, now that I am home to my beautiful wife I love with my entire heart, soul, and all six of my eyes, I have something to share with you!"

You smile as you sense your cheeks warm, shaking your head and responding, "What are you scheming this time?" You were much used to his tendencies to act in the spur of the moment, like the one time he convinced you to teleport halfway across the world with him to be tourists in New York City on a random Tuesday work night. You reach your arm toward one of Satoru's to attempt to bring whatever he's hiding to light, or even, really, just feel his touch, but his infinity doesn't permit you to get as close as you wish. You frown and look up at him in curiosity; he usually never has his infinity on with you.

"Patience is a cashew, darling. Wait, and you shall receive, or whatever those sayings are," Gojo confidently speaks as you hold back giggles at his misspoken proverbs. His eyes anxiously scan your figure before he continues, "It doesn't matter what they actually say anyway because of what I have brought home to share with you!"

You try to cut in to ask what he means, but he continues speaking over you in a rush. to get his next words out. His hands quickly leave his back, coming back together and presenting a little white box to you, all while he is blurting, "Shokogavemesomeediblestotrywithyou!" Gojo tilts his head, a cute, toothy smile beaming in your direction and opens the box containing delicious brownies to display them for you.

You are taken aback - not because you were against the of edibles with Gojo, nor because of Shoko's part in this. This isn't the first time the topic of edibles or anything regarding that has arisen. Satoru and you had done your fair share of partaking in that realm, like your monthly "baked baking" nights with Shoko or Suguru's failed attempts at growing hemp in his dorm at Jujutsu High. This is a normal concept for the two of you; your confusion is caused by what the special occasion seems to be causing him to propose the brownies in such a way. It's not your anniversary, nor is it a holiday. Why does he look like he has something else up his sleeve?

"She did now?" you responded with a teasing smile. "What, did she get tired of waiting for me to be able to schedule a baking day?"

"Oh, no, don't worry, baby. She just knew you were exhausted and wanted to cheer you up if she could," your husband smiles at you. You smile back, but feel there is something else Satoru wants to say. He continues, "I mean, she only knew because I was worried about you and gave her the idea to make them for us as a way of telling you how proud I am of you."

Ah, there it is. You were waiting for him to take all of the credit for his act of kindness. You note to thank Shoko later and try to come up with a day that works for the two of you ASAP. You have missed her in your recent busy weeks.

"Tonight, we are going to eat these brownies, watch movies, and relax. And then, we are going to sleep in in the morning and get our beauty sleep. No ifs, ands, or buts. Is that alright with you, baby?" Gojo queries.

"Of course, Toru," you hum. Ever since he opened the box to show you what it held, it had been a yes, but he had been so excited that you wanted his adorableness in the moment to last a little longer. "How could I ever say no to you?"

"Easy question: you can't," he quips.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm aware. Now hand one over."

"Sweets, do you know how much I fucking love you?"

-----

A bit over an hour later, the two of you sit across from each other on the floor of your kitchen, music faintly playing in the background. While you may claim otherwise, the effects of the brownie from earlier were definitely making their appearance. Everything was now extremely funny and embarrassing memories from high school were being shared between the two of you.

You cross your legs over the tiles beneath you and the cold of the floor lightly tickles your thighs. "Do you remember," you begin, struggling to hold back your laughter, "the first time we met?"

"Of course I do. It was love at first sight," Satoru muses. He sighs dramatically, placing his arms behind him for support to lean back on. He crosses one of his insanely long legs over the other one, stretching them to be beside your figure. Gojo closes his eyes with a ruminative smile overtaking his features before "The second I saw you from across the courtyard, I fell deep. No going back."

"Not me," you confess, although he already knows your love story by heart. "You were so annoying! I remember at one point, I was so overwhelmed, I told Suguru to get you a leash to keep you away for at least an hour or two."

"You are hurting my heart," Gojo feigns sadness. He brings his hand to his chest as if to make sure his heart was still there. "I knew we had something real special from the moment I met you. Just couldn't get away from you"

You think back to Gojo sauntering over to you as you were listening to music, sitting peacefully alone against a tree. He oh-so arrogantly walked across the entire field, abandoning his friends mid-conversation in preference of getting to know you. He introduced himself and sent you with a flirty wink you could only awkwardly smile back at. He already was a lot, but bearable; that was true, at least, until he decided to invade your personal space you cherished so much and sat next to you against the tree.

"Yeah, is that why you ripped my earbud out of my ear and shamed my music taste?" you jest.

"Your fault for listening to Hollaback Girl so casually," Gojo quips in return.

"How else was I supposed to hype myself up for the first day at a new school?" you giggle as you speak. "Although, looking back, it was an interesting choice."

"So interesting, it made me go bananas for you," he teases. He taps your knee with his own as a laugh escapes you. His hand grabs yours, toying with the gemstone mounted on your finger; a proud symbol of your eternal promise of unity. "And now, you're my wife, so clearly, it was a foolproof way to make you fall in love with me!"

"And your humility really helped your case," you lightheartedly jab at him while typing on your phone to add a new song to the queue.

"Oh, yeah, that too. Y'know, I've always thought I have a good sense of humor," Gojo brags until he hears the background shift from a low-key vibe to the upbeat anthem that was currently bringing the two you so much nostalgia - Hollaback Girl.

"Dance with me!" you jump to your feet, grabbing your husband's hand and tugging him to follow you. You move to a more open space out of the kitchen and in the living room, pretending to do cheerleading moves to match the music. The two of you work together to queue more songs, being your own DJs for your two person dance party. You get lost in the music together, the other's presence being all you need.

Eventually, you both decide to grab some water.

"Missed you. Missed your cute lil' laugh," Gojo confesses as you grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Toru, you've seen me every day this week," you respond, tossing the water to him, grabbing another for yourself, and closing the fridge. Satoru swiftly catches the water and nears to you. A sigh escapes him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"And? We don't get us time as often as we used to," he whines into the embrace. Letting go so he can look at your face, he brushes hair out of your eyes. His rests his palm on your cheek, speaking, "You gotta take more time to yourself. I was getting worried."

"You're saying that as if you're not the Strongest,' you respond with a lighthearted giggle. You love how he worries about you - it is just another way he shows you how much he loves you. He is the Strongest, that much is true. It is not a light weight for him to have on his shoulders, yet, he still worries about how you - a Grade One sorcerer, less powerful than him by a landslide, nothing really "special" about you like how Gojo is - are doing. He bears the weight of the world, so much expected from him solely due to some unique traits he was born with. Still, somehow, he makes you feel like the only thing that matters in the history of the universe itself. How can one person live with a pressure such as the one he holds, yet still be so loving toward you?

"'m serious, baby. You've been doing so much. A break every now and then doesn't hurt," he smiles at you. Leaning in closer to you, he whispers, "Got it?"

"Got it," you whisper back. Gojo takes the opportunity to connect his lips to yours for a quick kiss. After several over-exaggerated kisses to your lips, he moves to kiss every inch of your phase. Not a spot goes untouched, as if this were the last time he would ever be this close to you. Every square inch of you, because there are not enough ways in the world to show just how much he loves you.

Laughing at his antics and him continuing , you giggle before you say, "Love you, Toru."

He kisses one of your cheeks, saying "And I," another kiss to your forehead, "totally," another one to the opposite cheek, "love," another to the tip of your nose, "you," one to your chin, "more." He gently places one last kiss to your lips, your face flushed from his smother of affection.

He pulls back, a small whimper leaving your mouth from the lack of his warmth. His lovesick smile is all you can see, and you wish nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.

But Satoru, once again, has other plans for the two of you.

"Raid the kitchen for some snacks with me?" he says as he poses slightly, a goofy look to his face as he waits for you to grab his now outstretched hand.

"I'd love to, kind sir," you say in a fake posh accent. After giving him a quick curtsy, Satoru uses raises both of your arms to spin you. He smoothly pulls you into his arms so that he is hugging you from behind.

"M'lady," he begins into your ear, "you must know that I have been struck by the most dangerous disease known to mankind."

"Oh dear! What has ailed you?" You gasp, turning to face Gojo. His arms embrace your waist lightly as he sways you back and forth to the music.

He leans down so his lips are right at your ear, his voice low as he answers, "I got a bad case of..." he takes a deep breath, "the munchies!" Gojo begins to tickle your sides and you squirm in his grasp.

"To-Toru! Stop!" you say between laughs. "It tickles!"

"That's the point, sweets!" he says, but stops anyway and moves to his main objective. Gojo is already halfway across the kitchen before he finishes saying, "C'mon, babe! I'm getting hungrier by the second and I got extra sweets at the market earlier when training Megumi that I am dying to eat right this second."

Not even ten minutes pass and the fridge is wide open, yelling at you and Satoru to shut it. The pantry is open and the freezer is starting to sweat from how long you have been searching through it already. You are starting to think that maybe, you have been infected with the munchies as well. Everything was looking delicious.

Satoru is eating from a bag of jumbo marshmallows he had in the pantry for s'mores with Shoko and Suguru next weekend, but he figures that he can just run to the store tomorrow, because these were so sweet it was addicting. You finally close the freezer, having found your favorite ice cream Gojo had picked up for you beneath all of the other pints. You shut the fridge as well, but only after grabbing the bowl of fruit you had cut for yourself for a snack earlier.

"Thank God. That thing was so annoying," Gojo says regarding the incessant beeping of the refrigerator, his words all muffled from the marshmallows in his mouth.

"Sorry, baby. Couldn't find where I put my fruit earlier. Can you pass me a spoon?" You request.

"Course," Satoru nods and uses his free hand to open the drawer beside him and slides the spoon across the counter. You move to grab it before it slides off of the counter, but you miss. The spoon plummets to the ground with a little ding when it connects to the tiles you were sitting on not too long ago.

That's when the laughter started.

You kneel over, hand covering your mouth as you begin to laugh. Gojo is doing the same from his side of the counter, about to fall to the ground. A little snort escapes you, causing Gojo to laugh even harder. You look like little kids with how much you are laughing over the tiniest thing.

"Whoops!," your husband eventually manages to wheeze out.

If you didn't know any better, you might think you have been laughing for hours before you can finally catch your breath again. Gojo keeps clumsily knocking things over, and every time you think you are about to calm down to a rational level, he does another thing that was just so funny. It's a neverending cycle.

You feel like you are having an out of body experience, with your skin tingling and your mind afloat. You have forgotten at this point what you are laughing at in preference of eating your ice cream. It tastes amazing and you do not think there is anything in the world you have had that compares to the pint you are digging from.

Your ice cream is so delicious that you have zoned out for who-know's-how-long. Between scooping ice cream from the container and staring brainlessly at the counter in front of you, you figure the brownie has made it's way through your system by now.

Gojo is quiet beside you, which is rather abnormal form him. When you finally find the strength to pull yourself out of your daze, you look over to see him floating around, practically bouncing off of the walls. His eyes are closed and he looks at peace, but he is bouncing like a TV logo after a movie has been paused for too long.

You place the lid back on your ice cream and put everything back where you got it before questioning, "Toru, baby? You good?" He smiles at your voice, pulling down his blindfold that has become such a part of his identity. His eyes glow, which almost distracts you from the way he looks so... thoughtless.

"Mhm, all good, lovie," he says happily.

"What you doin' over there?"

"Just hanging around," he says, flipping upside down midair, a cheesy smile on his face. You can tell he has recollected himself from whatever meditative trance he was only moments before now.

You start walking toward your bedroom, saying "Well, I'm gonna lay down if you wanna join!"

Immediately, you hear a thump indicating his feet hit the ground and the sound of steps rushing after you.

-----

"Mmmmmmmm," Gojo moans out. "They are so soft and squishy." He lays in bed with you, one arm resting behind his neck, and the other around you laying against his side. He uses the free hand not behind his neck in order to reache back into the bag of marshmallows and stuff more into his mouth. "Like fluffy clouds I can chew."

You lift your head from it's spot on his shirtless chest and smile up at him. A bowl of freshly popped popcorn sits on the bedside table (your husband cooked it up for you when you said you never watch a movie without some popcorn), easy access to quench your seemingly never-ending hunger. A rom-com plays, neither of you really paying attention to it, preferring each other's presence instead.

"You talk about all your sweets like that?" you tease.

"No..." Gojo says suspisciously. "Never. Mostly. Only sometimes."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure," you roll your eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"Don't worry, you're my favorite sweet," he reassures and leans in closer to you. "Always."

Satoru's lips are so close to your own. The ones that told you "I do", the ones that whisper sweet nothings after a long week like this past one, the ones that tease you relentlessly.

"Mhm, always," you repeat, but all you can think is how you want him.

His lips are the softest thing you have ever felt touch yours. You think about the first time you kissed back in high school; it truly is crazy how velvety his still feel against your own. His lips gently press onto yours, speaking a language only the two of you can comprehend. A sense of urgency increases the tempo of the song you create together. He nips at the bottom of your lip, and you let our a small whimper while his tongue takes the opportunity to enter your mouth.

He tastes like sugar.

He leaves one last lingering kiss on your lips, then separates to tell you, "You seem happy."

"A little," you agree, flustered and missing his lips on yours. "Thanks for helping me relax. Means a lot to me."

"Anytime, princess. Say the word, I will drop everything to help you out. Even if you don't say anything, I'll still try and help. I just love you too much," he responds.

"I love you, too."

"Aw, you're so cute, babe. So obsessed with me. I need to take a picture and show everyone how bad you're down for me," he coos, causing you to shy away.

"Toru, stop! You did you even hear yourself? If anyone is down bad, it's you!" you defend.

"I mean, you did marry me, so I'd say it's you," he teases back.

"You married me, too!"

"Awwwwe! So cute all angry! Pose for the camera!"

Bonus

With a box of Shoko's favorite mochi in one hand, you use the other to open the door into her office.

"Shoko!" You exclaim as she says your name, running to hug you. She smells faintly of cigarette smoke, causing you to feel guilty for not checking in with her as much as you usually do. Her smoking tends to get more frequently depending on her stress level.

You hand her the box of mochi, saying, "Here, take these."

"Ugh, my favorite. Thank you," she says. "Did Gojo's special plan go well?"

"I'm assuming that was all your idea?" you laugh.

"Kinda. It was honestly more of a selfish thing on my end. Satoru had been visiting me every hour while you were on missions and I figured he could use them to chill out," Shoko groans. You smile at the though of your husband being so worried about you while you were gone, even though you were texting him updates the entire time. "You gotta stop leaving me to deal with him alone."

"He's such a big baby sometimes," you chuckle. "He did say something kinda smart the other night, though."

"Oh, no," Shoko says as she prepares herself for whatever is about to come out of your mouth.

"We should make a 'bakery' business and name it 'Edible Arrangements'!" you announce. You fan your hands out as if emphasizing the proposal - one that you definitely were not serious about, just trying to humor your husband.

"You two are helpless."

-----

i always struggle with how to wrap things up so im sorry it was kind of abrupt but i hope you like it !!!! thank u for readingggg. again im still learning and didnt really proofread so my apologies for mistakes or anything but yeah love uuu

[hellsslibrary]

✧･ﾟ:*NSFW Alphabet with Jack Howl*:･ﾟ✧

DNI : minors.

!!Warnings : sub!bottom!Jack, heats, oral, soft sex, size difference, animal instincts (?), shower sex, handjob, sweat(?), male reader.

Riddle <————«« Jack »»————> Ruggie

Sawanaclaw. Jack Howl.

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

He doesn't get particularly tired, he has a lot more exercise than a few rounds of sex, so he's pretty good. Although if you are tired, then he will do everything for you in fact. Water, shower, food, anything else? It will certainly be in your hands.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I do not think that he is one of those who will highlight something in his partner. It's like he loves you completely and doesn't highlight any parts of you, he just doesn't need to. He loves you all without a trace, completely, every part of you.

The same can be said about him. He will not love something more about himself than anything else. Although he is definitely proud of his muscles

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

His sperm is released in large enough quantities, I would say more than average. It is thicker than normal and less transparent than normal human.

As for your sperm, he absolutely does not care where you end up. Although he definitely prefers you to cum inside him because it satisfies his animal instincts a little, especially during his heats.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It finds you hot when you are tired after exercising/sports/etc. Like really, you're out of breath, soaked in sweat, and take off your shirt with a heavy sigh of relief that it's over... And if you also have muscles... Damn... The poor boy will have a boner on the spot, lol.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He is not. He is definitely a virgin. It's just, well, I doubt he's ever been interested in it to the point where he'd go and do it with anyone. Although he knows what he's doing, that's for sure.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Doggystyle lol. What did you expect? Any self-respecting person imagined themselves fucking someone from Sawanaclaw in this position. Although his tail can sometimes get in the way in this pose, as he begins to wag a lot.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Yes, he is definitely serious. Like... I'm not even going to discuss it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I don't know, I don't think he takes much care of his hair there, he just cuts it when it gets too long, but he doesn't do anything else. He has a normal pubis with hair, not too much nor too little. And the hair on the carpet is darker than on the drapes, very very darker.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He is a romantic but doesn't want to admit it. He's just shy about it though, but his tail always gives him away.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

No, he doesn't do it often. Or maybe not at all after your relationship has moved to an intimate level. Why does he need this if there is your dick? Hands? Mouth? Whatever else? You are much better at keeping him satisfied than he is.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Handjob? I really don't know why. I just like to think that he likes to jerk you off with his strong hands or boobs. Breeding kink. I think I don't have to explain it. Like he's literally a wolf, like a hybrid animal. It is clear that he has something similar. Oh, and of course a kink to the size difference! It doesn't matter which way it works, whether you are above or below it, less or more. It's just nice anyway.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Well... I think he likes sex against the wall. It doesn't matter how. You hold him, you press him or he lean on it. He just likes it when you are in the position of a predator, and he is prey from this point of view.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

In general, the usual degree of excitability, he is excited by things that he likes. Again, you're sweaty and tired, yes. Maybe you wearing tight clothes, he likes to look at your curves.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Of course he wouldn't hurt you, it's a clear no-no for him. Also, he would never share you with anyone in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves to give, of course. He loves to give you pleasure and loves to watch you enjoy the pleasure he gives you.

But he definitely loves when you give. Definitely, also, prefers a blowjob than anything else.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

A fan of something tender and loving, of course. He doesn't want to admit it though, hehe. But when he's in heat, he wants you to fuck him fast so you can be rough with him.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No, not a fan of this kind of activity. Although he doesn't mind since he has something in his head (you'll find out later in W). But still, he would prefer a long sex, rather than an act where you will fuck, as if in the last minutes of life.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Well... He... Yes? I guess yes. He's experimental and willing to try just about anything, within reason, if you want it or he wants it. And he is also willing to take some risks and try, although the risks are more difficult to explain, I think he is quite cautious.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He lasts a very long time! In the end, he goes in for sports, and every athlete should have endurance training (CrossFit, my love :b ). So... 7-15? Yes, somewhere in this segment.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Well, I doubt he'll have toys since he'd be embarrassed to buy them, which is funny. But he is absolutely not against them, almost everything that you want, he is ready to try.

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease)

He's not a fan of teasing. If he starts teasing you, then most likely his animal instincts will take over and he will immediately stop doing it and get down to business. This also applies to teasing on your part. He just might lose some control over himself.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Fairly quiet 3-4/10. Although still a pleasant, deep, low voice. But it is unlikely to ever become too high and loud. Quiet moans, sighs, maybe whining. No more.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

Well... He loves sex in the shower. The way water runs down your naked body while you fuck him/suck him off/finger him/etc gets him too turned on for no apparent reason. His hands instinctively grab at least something and in the end he breaks one of the shelves.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Very muscular, sculpted body! A few training scars, well, because he's a wolf after all. The penis is slightly larger than average, maybe 6-7 inches / 15-17 cm. But it is quite thick in girth due to its knot.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It is variable. When he's not in heat it's low, he doesn't want to do it too much, he's not some kind of nymphomaniac after all. He thinks it's too sensual to practice too often. But if he's in heat... I suggest you take a deep breath in and out, buddy.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fell asleep afterwards)

If the action was at night, then he will fall asleep almost immediately. Although, if it was in the daytime, he would not fall asleep. But if you want to take a nap with him for a while or just lie around, then he will gladly please you with this.

[mjart12699]

The M6’s hair and body care

Asra: has used a million different scents of body wash, and will use a million more. It’s not that they haven’t found the right one, it’s that they just want to try every single scent, but they tend to gravitate towards whatever scent the MC has complimented in the past if they’ve done so. Exfoliates when they remember to once they figure out what that is for, probably uses a basic face soap because they are one of those miraculous people with perfectly clear skin in adulthood (can’t say the same for their teen years though). Due to their hair type, which I headcanon as being high density (more hair strands per follicle) and rather thick, they probably don’t have to wash their hair super often, maybe every week or so for most of the year, every other week when it’s really cold out. They have the same mindset towards shampoos/conditioner when it comes to scent as their body wash with no distinct preference, but their main shampoo is hydrating and when they need to they’ll clarify their scalp with a homemade mask before shampooing. Conditioner is hydrating but mostly used to detangle, and while you wouldn’t know it their hair looks so good because of the oils they put in regularly and the hair masks they do with MC when they are home at the shop. I like to think that there was an oil that Aisha used to use in Asra’s hair before she and Salim were taken away, and that when Asra was able to find the oil again later in life they decided to try and do the same routine their mother had had originally in front of the fire in the hut, finger combing the smoky sweet oil through cotton white curls and massaging their scalp all while their eyes were closed, trying their best to remember the sound of their mother’s voice as she hummed while her fingers had combed through his hair all those years ago.

Nadia: She’s had an extensive routine for as long as she could remember, as you would expect of royalty. When she was young her and her sisters probably did their hair together as a form of bonding, a long train of siblings with the rainbow in their hair as they each oiled the strands of the siblings in front of them. In the current events of the game, Her hair is thick and high density, and she has to thin it out every once and a while because it gives her a headache, and while it’s not obvious because of the length, it is wavy, it’s just so weighed down most of the time. Nadia probably has a shampoo, conditioner, scalp scrub, deep conditioner, protein treatment, and oil for everything. Hydration? You got it. Hair is brittle and needs protein? She’s got it. Trying to grow it out? She has every oil and a ranking list of how well they work with rosemary oil at the top, she’s already putting the bottle into your hands. Even her body care routine is extensive. A body wash for getting rid of the oil and sweat of the day, a body wash for scent, dry brush to exfoliate, she’s probably even one of those people that does a full body mask for whatever she knows her skin currently needs. She doesn’t think her skincare routine is very excessive, but to the average person it’s a lot, she probably hasn’t had a pimple for more than ten minutes a day in her life.

Julian: As an adult he has a body wash and shampoo, and if he can he’ll find a two in one of those for the sake of time convenience. However, when he was a kid his honorary grandma’s in Nevivon probably taught him to wash his hair with nettle shampoo and how to make a mask out of eggs and olive oil, and how to use vinegar for extra shine. He and Portia probably had some of the best hair, or at least the most complimented, as kids. After meeting the MC he tries to remember how to do his hair like that again, and will even try to remember body lotion (I know damn well his elbows are dry as hell). Washes his face with water and sometimes soap if he’s awake enough to remember. His hair is thick and medium density, the curls tighter at the ends and looser at the scalp.

Lucio: As a kid his hair care wasn’t too fancy, but he did have nice hair, and Morga made sure of that. Despite being a violent tribe, I think they would have taken great pride in the care of their hair considering the history of Norse/Germanic tribes haircare. However as Count of Vesuvia he splurges, trying everything he possibly can as long as he thinks it smells nice. Without realizing it he might gravitate towards smells that were common in his childhood, but often times it’s fancy perfumes and colognes on top of his natural musk. Overall, he probably actually smells good, and while many other nobles smell like they bathed in over saturated perfumes for hours, Lucio has mastered the fine art of picking the right scents for himself so that he always smells wonderful. His hair is fine and medium density and it grows incredibly fast, but he cannot grow a descent beard to save his life.

Portia: Probably has a floral soap that she washes twice with since she works so hard, and she probably keeps to the same hair routine she had as a kid, with the addition of massaging her scalp with lavender oil before she washes her hair and finger combing a different hydrating oil through her mid lengths and ends. She likes to style her hair in any way she can on the days she has the time, trying out elaborate braids on herself if she really likes them. Her hair is thick and high density, much like Asra and Nadia’s, and it might be something the three of them could bond over.

Muriel: At the docks you were lucky if you had the time to wash your face with clean water in peace, much less having actual soap if you were able to nab some from a vendor. Muriel doesn’t remember much about the Steppes, or his parents. It’s just images flashing by, but sometimes he’d smell a specific oil or plant and retract from the memories it would bring, quick flashes of gentle hands brushing his hair smooth long after it was already detangled, at that point it was just so he would fall asleep. At the docks Muriel remembers eventually letting Asra do his hair with what the both of them had, including the time they tried to cut each other’s hair. It was a disaster, and both of their haircuts were awful, but his hair didn’t stick to his neck uncomfortably that summer. When they escaped to the woods Muriel learned to make soap at one point, and while it was simple it got the job done. At the coliseum Lucio made sure that while his champion looked ragged and wild for the next fight, he would remain at least relatively clean. He couldn’t lose his prized gladiator to an infected wound of all things, could he? Muriel was expected to be mostly clean shaven, a razor used to shave the hair that always grew back before the sun set off of his face and chest, but he never cut the hair growing from his head. He never had the time or energy, much less cared what length it was. When he escaped the coliseum with Inanna he chopped off as much as he could, using the nearest sharp object at the hut, an ax used to chop wood, to shear off the brittle inky strands, and once again his hair didn’t cling to his neck for that summer. If anyone saw him they would see that the ex gladiator’s hair had gone from an even waist length sheet of black to choppy strands near his head, and if his hood was down you might even see some of the patches where his ax had gotten a little too close to his scalp. He doesn’t allow himself the luxury of anything beyond soap that he uses as both shampoo and body wash, but he will allow for Asra to leave newer shaving tools in the hut when Asra notices the scabs from Muriel trying to shave with a dull razor and nothing to soften the hair on his face. After meeting the MC, he might get better at taking care of his hair and body besides what he had deemed necessary, even researching what the Khokuri used and testing it out if he has the time. I think he would have more interest in protective styles, braiding his hair away from his face or tying it back in the ways he’s seen the other Khokuri do it if he can figure it out, but he won’t do it often, his favorite way to tie his hair back something he’s just used to doing. If the MC wants to he’ll allow them to play with his hair, apply oil through the strands and massage his scalp. He’ll fall asleep in their lap and as they hum and comb their fingers through the coarse strands he allows the familiar safe feeling to wash over him as he falls asleep. His hair is coarse, thick and medium density, and might be a little wavy if he lets the MC test out a routine on him.

[chocolate-floof]

So while I'm literally punching air over my menstrual pain I thought up a Vought reader scenario with a little real life inspo and would love to see other expand on this idea if they also find it interesting or funny. So, reader ofc works for Vought, they don't really ever work with supes in person as their still climbing the corporate ladder but they do their job well. The only time they've ever spoke to anybody even remotely close to the seven was when Ashley had come to them to ask for an update on homelanders points, as they work on the social media team at Vought, their job in the team was to basically scrub the internet for the publics opinion on vought. They've seen some SHIT from it, including the more... Vulgar displays of the publics opinion from homelander, but they have have to persevere to get that sweet paycheck every Thursday. Growing up in a area where people are normally on the more 'family friendly' with the way they speak had left them severely underprepared for the confidence that the anonymity of the Internet gave people, which allowed them to say basically anything, and they certainly did. Sometimes leading them to go to the bathroom to try and stave of the nausea. They themselves are more of a loner, staying to themselves often time felling awkward and scared of talking their everyday coworker. Sleep deprivation and overworking themselves to try and run from the imposter syndrome constantly eating at them. Your average corporate wage slave one might say. But one day, waking up with a rare dose of confidence that lasted through out the day, they decided they were going to go to a small office party they were going to be having later on that night. They decided to wear a very ~complimenting~ outfit/dress when they go. Homelander is there, he doesn't have anything better to do and he's bored so he sits in on the party, watching. No one comes to him, everybody knows how he can be to those he deems lesser than him. They don't really think about this as they look at him sitting alone in the corner with a far off look in his eyes, their sympathy genuinely clouding their better judgement. They walk up to him unannounced, nearly startling him as they said "hi." in a quiet tone with a small smile. He looks over, suddenly hearing them next to him, further away than he had thought, it sounded like you had spoken directly into his ear. "Hello?" He said, genuinely confused at why you had just walked up to him. "A-are you enjoying the party?" They ask, trying to start a small conversation. He almost immediately snaps into his 'work face' "oh yeah, it's nice that you guys have these... Little.. get-togethers. I, uh.. I like the work you guys do here, you guys do... alot for Vought, we'd be NOWHERE without.. you guys!" He gives a little chuckle afterwards. They, immediately felt like the entire sentence was nearly.. rehearsed? Fake? It just wasn't right but they tried not to let their anxiety and paranoia get the best of them and respond with a "thank you, that definitely means a lot coming from you." They were fighting their nerves suddenly feeling cold all over. "I'm glad that I can help Mister.homelander, sir" they imagine slamming their face against every surface possible as they they choke, suddenly feeling like a golf ball was in their throat, sweat collecting in their hair. Before they can manage to squeeze anything out another man walk up to them, tapping them on the shoulder. They turn to him and he asks them out. They immediately feel the ball in their throat get even bigger, thinking of a way to get out, to just go before they suddenly burst into tears. "N-No..." They say before just turning and walking out as fast as they could straight to the elevators and back home. homelander was very confused at what had just happened, how quick their emotions had just rose and fallen in quick succession suddenly feeling his curiosity peaked. The next day he comes to visit the office area, asking for you describing your appearance.

"Oh you mean y/n? Their fucking tweaking in the bathroom right now" answer one of them

"what?"

"Their freaking out." They supply

"Why?"

"read this."

"WHAT THE FUCK"