#and it allows you to research something different from yourself if need be and allows you to learn :3

[hardware-sparks]

Uhhh your pinned post says tell me about things so… I wish we talked about Colon being Dutch more often, it isn’t an important part of his character but it means something to me. Like, Van Helsing (Dracula Famed Vampire Hunter) is ALSO Dutch, and there’s a lot we could do with them possibly being connected. There’s also a lot more cultural differences between the Netherlands and England/America, like, the Dutch swear with disease names and they’re way more comfortable with topics English and American people usually aren’t. Also, every European from a country known for its cheese I have ever met has something to say about American cheese and it’s never good ^^;

Idk, I know it isn’t that important to mention these things,, but it’s also a fun character aspect, and I think it’s neat and wanna do more things with it!

(Toast and Colon bickering during Eurovision…)

I think cultural background is also an important part of characterization! It affects how you speak, think, and dress. Also gives him more words to use because otherwise everyone sounds... too American.

[mrchoppedslefthand]

Homicipher Random Headcanons/Scenarios [NSFW]

Edit:11/07/2024

I desperately needed to post the random head canons and scenarios of our husbands that my brain kept cooking up (+ some from discord friends), so the list is not organized. Also, since we shape shift, I'm going to assume we can choose whenever we have a cock or pussy (because I want to be fucked and do the fucking) Anyways...enjoy the food thought.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped Mr. Silvair, Mr. Hood, Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Warnings: mentions of NSFW, mentions of some canon-typical violence, implications of dubcon, mentions of somnophilia, implied cuckold

Mr. Crawling

He can be submissive top. Constantly asking you if you love him during intimacy. He would ask if you enjoy playing with him as you pound yourself onto him. He would be a moaning mess and probably wouldn't know what to do about it as he clumsily places his hands around your waist.

He would definitely eat you out without you asking once intimacy had been initiated.

Afraid of hurting you, he wouldn't be too rough, instead he would be more tender and gentler when it comes to intimacy.

He definitely would love it when you play with his hair, allowing you to braid it or do whatever as long it doesn't involve cutting his precious hair.

He actually gets jealous easily, but he doesn't verbalize it, instead he shows it through his actions.

He is better with his hands, than his cock. So sometimes you prefer that over his cock. His cock is more on the average/smaller side and it's cute.

He definitely has a praise kink.

Mr. Chopped

He lacks a body, so to make up for it he is extremely expressive and open with his feelings. Which makes him a little fun to bully, to see all those cute expressions he could make.

He probably would be very good with his mouth and tongue, let him be your personal rose toy/fleshlight if you will. He can't fight back and have no choice but to whimper about it.

Imagine getting sick and fainting with him nearby, he can't move or do anything but helplessly cry for you to wake up and starts crying out help for Mr. Silvair to come help him and you.

Maybe one day, for a day of tricks and pranks. Mr. Stitch will allow Mr. Chopped a day in his body, so they swap places, stitching Mr. Chopped in place of Mr. Stitch's head. It had been a very long time since Mr. Chopped felt sensations beyond his head, so he happens to be very sensitive and clumsy with his hands. Everywhere you touch overwhelms him, he melts and becomes a moaning mess, but Mr. Chopped isn't the only one feeling all these sensations. Mr. Stitch can still feel it too. He is intrigued by today's type of play.

He definitely would be more on the whiny and needy side when it comes to pleasure, he lacks a body, but he can still feel lust. He can't do anything about it, which makes him extremely needy and extra pouty.

Mr. Silvair

Definitely would have had intimacy with other ghosts/humans before to research the body and performance during mid transformation if it differed.

Imagine one day he finds a mysterious liquid that fell from the 'other world' and feeds it to you, himself and the other ghosts in your crew. Only to find out it was an aphrodisiac. It was the first time he felt such a strong sensation of lust. At first, he mistakes this strong desire to be violence, so he starts to self-inflict wounds onto himself. You attempt to stop him, but soon find yourself to be underneath him as he bites into your neck, drawing blood. Surprised at seeing the often-composed man, turning into a ravage beast. You somehow manage to find something to tie him up and have your way with him.

He probably likes overstimulation on you...but also himself. He would love to research on how much his body can go and handle.

He would actually be a switch, for research purposes. To take and give he'd do anything for research. It had been long long ago since his body used to be human, and he often forgets about his own experiences if he doesn't write them down, but no worries, he has you by his side now to keep remembering.

Mr. Hood

He is quiet but speaks whenever he finds it suited for. But if you need him, he would be happy to talk with you.

He is a bit insecure about his body, he doesn't have arms or hands or even legs, he is an entity of nothing. The clothes are what shape his form, and well maybe he not entirely a entity of nothing. You had a glimpse before, a small glimpse and sensation of a squishy and somewhat slimy part that had belonged to him. You never mentioned though, but if it was you'd love him still anyways.

He realized that some words had been a bit harder for you to keep in mind and remember and so he thought of a special way to get you learning. Learning with what humans call pleasure. He fucks you and asks you what certain things are, and if you get it wrong, he denies you from coming. You have become determined to learn your words properly even more so now. Because if you remember you get rewarded with the most absolute fulfilling fuck of your life.

Since most of his body is invisible or nothing. If you mouth fucked him you would be able to see that real good, it is strangely erotic watching your cock move inside his mouth.

Mr. Gap

When you're sleeping, sometimes he might just cuddle against your leg or lower half. He loves the feeling of warmth, compared to his hollow darkness.

He definitely seems like the type of person to eat you out while you're asleep. Playing around and waiting for you to wake up to watch your reaction. Of course, he would only do this though if he knew you'd allow it. He values consent.

Imagine taking your backpack to school and you have to take out a pencil for a test. When you open your backpack, you realize it is just an empty void and hear a voice asking for your heart in exchange for the pencil. Yeah... you accepted your fate. You just failed your exam...

When you become a moaning mess under him, he can't understand but he knows that from your sweet voice, and moans, that it's a good thing. He knows to keep continuing.

One day Mr. Gap gathers his usual newspapers that fall from the rubble or somehow manages to grab one from the human realm. He notices a magazine that discusses about marriage and giving rings on the fourth finger. Intrigued about this idea, he asks you for your all four of your fingers, but you misunderstand and refuse to give him your fingers. He's sad but soon you later find out that he was asking for your hand in marriage, literally but also figuratively.

Mr. Machete

We would wonder aimlessly for an eternity together searching for his/your home. But eventually our subconscious would recognize each other as home instead.

He would definitely mock and laugh at how fast you would falter/melt under his touch. Calling you "weak" for coming so fast but would give kisses here and there after the mocking.

He'd probably be into throat fucking and laugh at you looking pathetic, he loves reactions that aren't boring, so seeing you choke on his cock seems like a great idea.

He definitely would come inside most of the time.

When he fucks you, his cock would probably bulge out a little from your stomach, fascinated by it he'd roughly press his hand down near that area.

He is our beefy dumb macho, perfect.

If you mouth/fucked him he would tell you he feels nothing, but his eyes would already be red and tearing. He's a pathetic coward.

Mr. Scarletella

He belongs to you, and you belong to him, together forever, in a hellish world. He loves the destruction you bring into his life and does the same for you.

Oh boy, he would absolutely devour you, his queen, in pleasure. Fuck you stupid to the point you're just a blabbering mess, hands on waist, and long fingers in your mouth, as he pounds deeply into you.

He seems like the type of guy to fuck you during your period.

Definitely gets jealous easily and he makes it know when he gets that way.

Imagine your fucked/fucking another ghost and you hear static within the distance, the sound slowly starts to come closer and closer until you hear the static in the room. Your crimson servant arrives and witnesses your fantastic display of intimacy. Jealous, he kills them and becomes extra possessive and quite terrifying, but you love it so much. How he seems so lost and pathetic without you.

You don't know his name, but neither does he know yours. Despite this disconnect, you still manage to give him some sort of other named to be called. It's connected to your name, but he knows it's not all of it, he can't fully whisk you away, but he's okay with that. You are still bound to him for an eternity anyway.

If Mr. Scarletella went back to the human world with you instead, he would appear to be the one most suited for fitting in. Just slack some foundation on his face, make him wear gloves and he would blend in quite well. Well...except for his odd habit of asking every stranger for their name and laughing and giggling crazily each time.

He would have a praise and degradation kink, he's not a whore. He's YOUR whore. He likes being YOURS.

[phantomrose96]

Tumblr can never be my main means of engaging in politics and it comes down almost entirely to Tumblr's pathological need to distill The Right Opinion:tm: from any complicated issue.

It's always the most important thing. Not because it helps solve the issue or helps the people impacted, but because The Right Opinion:tm: is a proxy for you, morally, as a person. And every issue needs to be broken into the language that sets the stances of Make You Good or Make You Bad.

And I don't mean this in any generic statement about echo chambers or virtue signaling. Those are separate but related concepts. What I'm talking about is how people are nervous about a topic until one doctrine is crafted which defines the Sports Team Color of our Sports Team, so we can be identified as being on the Us Sports Team, and absolutely not on the Them Sports Team. Because this issue is actually about you and the proxy for you as a person and how people should perceive you so, really, the sooner we figure out the Home Sports Team Colors the sooner you can stop feeling worried.

The moment something new happens is usually the first and last time you'll actually see a range of opinions on it. And some of that is fueled by misinformation! Some in bad faith! When dust settles and clarity is achieved, this helps combat those things, but it's also the moment when the Loudest and most Articulate voices craft the Zeitgeist Opinion and everyone comes to roost around it.

You get people on this site pissed off at AI models that can diagnose cancer from a research paper in 2019 because The Right Opinion is that AI is bad. If you even see a post trying to articulate good uses of AI, well that's someone wearing Packers colors at a Vikings home game, and if you wanna make a point in the "wrong" direction you better be damn articulate about it.

A well-defined set of actions are transphobic. Another set are actually not transphobic, and you'd be transphobic for thinking so. Are you trans and actually your lived experiences differ? Get articulate real fast or shut up. You might be able to eek an exception for yourself, but it's going to require a 10-paragraph post justifying your claim. If you're REALLY good at it though, you might be able to rewrite the Zeitgeist and now anyone who disagrees with you is transphobic. Teams switch uniform styles every now and then, after all.

And it's such a farce because so often it's not actually about the topic at hand. It's about why you should be allowed to be perceived as a good person while toeing outside the fringes of The Right Opinion, why you aren't actually quitting the faith or committing blasphemy or deserving of exile for going off the written word. Or if someone really IS trying to make it about the topic at hand, the ensuing slapfight in the comments needs to be about whether OP has sinned against the covenant.

It's not helpful.

[dollfacefantasy]

Baby Bunny

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: leon helps his sweet baby bunny through her heat.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, breeding kink, daddy kink

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i'm not sure how i feel about this one, but let's go with it. again, thank you everyone for reblogging and commenting, it means the world to me <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld

In his personal life, Leon never wanted to be depended on. That was his job. He didn’t want that stuff following him home. He didn’t want to be tied down, to be responsible for someone like that. People depended on him in Raccoon city and look how that turned out. Every mission he’s been on for the last few years, he’s responsible for someone. It’s exhausting.

But as he nears 30, he starts to look at it differently. An aching sense of isolation grows in his heart. He starts to think about what it would be like having someone, having a companion of some sort. Suddenly, he’s not looking at being relied on as a detriment. Being depended on means having someone to care for, someone to love. There would be someone at the end of long days and the starts of his currently lonesome nights.

That’s how he finds himself with you scampering around his house. The sweetest little thing he’d ever seen. Your long floppy ears, cute little cottontail, those big sweet eyes. From the moment he saw you, he was a sucker for all of it.

A while back he had briefly heard of human-animal hybrids, but he didn’t think much about it. It didn’t really apply to him. If anything, the idea weirded him out a bit.

That was until he started thinking more about his dilemma. It seemed like one of them might be a good solution. He talked to a few people and did some online research and decided to at least look into it. It couldn’t hurt to visit an adoption center right?

He visited the place and was still a little freaked by the whole concept. He walked through the rooms, watching different hybrids move about and mess around. The lady guiding him throughout asked him different questions, trying to decipher what type of hybrid would best fit his needs. But all of her questions were irrelevant as soon as he spotted you.

You were undoubtedly the one. His baby bunny. Not only did he not want any other hybrid, but he didn’t think he could physically leave that place without talking to you at the very least.

He walked over to you cautiously. You kept to yourself, and he could tell from your body language alone how timid you were. He spoke with the softest, most soothing tone he could manage, but you were still so shy.

You’d told him your name so quietly he could barely hear. He didn’t touch you at all, fearing you may cry at something that personal. But he kept talking to you because while others may have found it challenging, he could see you fitting right in with him.

You’d be dependent, sure, but clearly you wouldn’t be overly needy for affection. It would be a good way for him to transition from being alone into having someone.

He kept getting to know you and trying to get through some of your walls. He talked with you about all sorts of things and let you ask your own questions so you could get to know him. By the end of the day, you hesitantly allowed him to stroke your ears.

It was that exact day he told you that he was interested in you coming to live with him. You were still very reserved, but you seemed receptive. You did a little trial run over the course of a week, and just as Leon thought, you were a great fit.

You had grown more comfortable with him in the months since that week even though your core personality hadn’t changed. You were still generally quiet, never asking for much and being appreciative of whatever he gave you. You’d talk with him openly now, mostly responding to him rather than starting conversations but speaking nevertheless. You slept in your own room, but as soon as you woke up, you’d come find him to hang out. It was a nice balance with you.

But Leon still wanted a little more. He would never push it on you, knowing it would make you withdraw again, but he always cherished the moments of progress with you. You warmed up enough that you came around to enjoy cuddling. Leon couldn’t believe how soft he’d become when you curled up to his side and tucked yourself under his arm. The first time you fell asleep in his embrace, he loved it so much he felt chest pains. Once or twice, he’d gotten you to fully sit on his lap, and he couldn’t stop beaming.

He could give you little kisses on your face now, and you’d give him a sweet smile in return that he couldn’t get enough of. You’d never kissed him yourself, but you would nuzzle his cheek in return which was enough to make him happy.

You were just such a sweetheart, a perfect companion for him. You didn’t complain when he had to go to work, but it wasn’t like you didn’t miss him. He could see the way your ears would slump and your eyes would dim as he gathered his stuff and headed for the door. But you also got so happy when he came back. You tried to seem as subdued as possible, but the way you lit up again in his presence was obvious.

The only thing you were still completely closed off about was when you went into heat. Leon understood what it was, he had been nervous about it since bringing you home, but he had no clue about how you dealt with it at all. Every time it happened, you’d shut yourself up in your room for however many days it took, and then return to him as if nothing had happened.

For your sake, he played along. He got the sense it was a touchy subject after bringing up the possibility of getting you some more toys for it and having you immediately shut it down. Your voice had become higher pitched with defensiveness, and your eyes wouldn’t meet his for the next few hours.

He had only wanted to help, but he couldn’t tell you why. Couldn’t tell you that your desperate moans kept him up at night when they echoed down the hall. Those broken whimpers that made it sound like you were crying, so worked up and in need of release that it brought you to tears. 

He also couldn’t share how it made his cock rise to attention. How those pretty little noises had him fucking his fist, other palm covering his mouth to muffle his grunts, searching for relief of his own. His precious baby bunny didn’t need to know all of that.

Today had been a long day. He was tired after dealing with all the bullshit that came with his job. Although, unlike in months prior, he wasn’t all doom and gloom driving home. The thought of his sweet girl at home waiting for him by the door kept his spirits somewhat up as he made the commute back.

To his surprise, you weren’t in the living room like normal. He walked through the room cautiously, a little on edge from the disruption to his routine. He goes into the kitchen and still doesn’t find you. He starts to walk to the back of the home and that’s when he hears something. Those soft, needy sounds of pleasure.

His eyebrows raise, but he continues walking. As he gets closer, he realizes something that adds another level of shock to this situation. The noises were coming from his room.

At this point, he was more concerned than anything else. He makes his way down the hallway to his room and slowly opens the door, cracking it open to peek inside.

His eyes widen as he sees you on his bed. You’re kneeling, doubled over though so your face is in the blankets, his pillow between your legs, and your hips rocking back and forth violently. You’re nude from the waist down, only wearing a shirt of his. One of your fists is clutching the blankets while you keep your face shoved against them in a weak attempt to muffle those cute noises.

His jaw goes slack at the sight. He wills himself to remain calm and not succumb to some of his own primal urges. He carefully steps into the room, trying to be quiet even though he couldn’t see a way to not startle you with his presence.

“Baby…” he says, using the most gentle voice he could manage.

You shoot up in bed, now kneeling vertically. Your eyes are wide like you’ve had the fright of your life, your expression clearly horrified that he’d caught you like this. And even though he tries not to look, he can’t help but notice that despite your reaction, your hips don’t stop rutting against the pillow.

“Daddy!” you gasp.

That short circuits his brain. He pauses for a good five seconds to grapple with what you just said. You’d never called him that before. Not that he minded necessarily… but it still gave him whiplash.

His reaction seems to cause you to realize what you had just blurted out. In the blink of an eye, you go from visibly horrified to completely mortified. Your eyes fill with tears as you whimper out “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

Oh god, and now you’re crying. Leon was still silent as he tried to keep his composure, force the heat building inside of him to cool off before he approached you. Looking at you though, that sweet face with tears leaking down those round cheeks… It made him want to bounce you on his lap till you were crying for a whole other reason.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s alright,” he reassures you as he walks to the bed. He sits on the edge, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on your face. “Is it… Are you in heat?”

“Yes,” you say, tone dripping with shame. You bite your lip and try to restrain any further whimpers. Your hips were slowing down but still moving. After a few moments though, another wave of choked cries erupt from your throat and more hot tears of humiliation slide down your skin. Your hands fly up to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s ok,” he says softly. He cautiously takes your wrists and pulls them away from your face. He takes one of your hands in his, soothingly rubbing the back of your palm. You whimper at the touch, but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s ok, honey. I’m not mad. You can’t help it. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

You look into his eyes with your tearful gaze. Your breathing was a little ragged from crying, but it seemed like he was calming you down slowly. You nod with uncertainty, waiting for him to make the next move.

He was also unsure of what to do. This was so unlike you, he’d never seen you this emotional for one, but he’d also never expected to see you in this position. And the entire time your hips were still grinding on that pillow, back and forth like a pendulum.

“Is it more intense this time?” he asks, keeping his tone gentle to not upset you again.

“I guess,” you whimper, “I just… I wanted you.”

It pained him to see you so uncomfortable and stressed out. He wanted you to be able to come to him with these types of things, to trust him with yourself when you’re in your most vulnerable state. It was clear that you desired that too, to some degree. You were in his room, humping his pillow, wearing his shirt.

“Well… I’m right here, baby. I want to help if I can. If you want me to,” he says.

Your skepticism is written all over your face. But you needed this even if you were a little nervous. He pats his lap encouragingly, and that’s the final push you need to let go of the pillow and crawl into his lap.

“There’s my baby bunny. Sweet girl,” he says softly as he gets you situated. He peppers a few tender kisses on your head and strokes your back.

You had only been there for a few seconds, but your hips were already squirming.

“What do you need, baby? Just tell Daddy, and you can have it,” he whispers. The title rolls off his tongue as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It had caught him off guard when you said it, but after it rattled around in his head for a bit, it took root. Now, he just wanted to hear you say it again.

You whimper, looking at him through your lashes with those sweet eyes. At this point, you were all but riding his thigh. There’s a pause as you decide how to articulate your desire.

“I need… I need you,” you offer timidly.

“I know that, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “Try to be more specific for me. Daddy only wants to know so he can help you. Give you exactly what you need.”

He reaches up and cradles the back of your head, bringing you in to rest it on his shoulder. His other arm wraps around you and rubs your back. He holds  you as close as he can to give you that physical reassurance he knew you longed for in your condition.

You still hesitate, obviously working up your will to explicitly state your cravings.

“I want Daddy inside, wanna be bred,” you whimper, turning your face against his shoulder to hide your eyes. Your whole head felt hot with the weight of what you said. It was almost dizzying, but he swoops in with his cooing voice and gentle praises to keep you together.

“Poor baby,” he croons, “I don’t know how you handled this alone for so long, honey. That’s so unfair to you, all these big feelings you had to work through by yourself. So frustrating.”

You knew he was being excessively caring now, but you had no complaints. The loving cadence of his voice made your mind melt. All you could do is whimper and nod against his shoulder.

“You could’ve come to Daddy anytime you wanted. I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny, especially not about this,” he says, kissing your head and giving your ears a few loving strokes.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you say.

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweet girl. I’m here now. We’re gonna fix it. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he says.

He shifts you around a little so he can slide his pants down and free his hard cock. Your curious eyes dart back to his face after a quick look at the flushed tip and the veins spanning the shaft.

“You ready?” he asks softly.

“Mhm, need it,” you whimper in return, helping him get your hips into position.

He lowers you on to his cock. Both of you let out hushed noises of pleasure as the sensation strikes pleasure within you. His fingers are digging into the flesh of your hips as he slides further into you. Your arms tighten around him and your eyes already start to flutter at the snug fit.

You whine and babble out some nonsense when you’re finally flush against him. His cock twitches inside of you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. You could hear the tension in his own voice from exerting so much restraint. “You feeling any better?”

“Little bit, need more Daddy,” you mewl.

“Just give yourself a second to adjust, angel,” he grunts. You were pulsing around him, making it harder for him to not let go. 

But it seems you’re feeling the same way. You shake your head in response to his words and start haphazardly squirming around, trying to move up and down while still in his hold.

“Need it Daddy,” you whine, “Can’t wait. Pretty please.”

Like he’d said, he couldn’t say no.

“If you’re sure, honey,” he says and loosens his grip, “Be a good bunny and bounce for Daddy.”

That’s all you need to hear before you’re bouncing up and down. Wet noises fill the room as your slick pussy takes him in and out. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the embarrassment fade and just feeling the pleasure running through you.

Leon focuses on helping you keep your balance as you ride him. His own belly was twisting with ecstasy as your heat engulfs him over and over.

“That’s it, good baby,” he grunts, “Keep going, honey. Get it all out.”

You whine and continue on, up and down, up and down. More cute noises spill from your mouth as the head of his cock nudges all the right places. You ramble on, mumbling things like “love my daddy” over and over.

“Daddy loves you too, sweet girl,” he says softly.

He notices you starting to cling and whimper more. You were still riding, but your rhythm was becoming more awkward. You seemed more desperate even though you literally had him as close and as deep as physically possible.

He tries to help and do more of the work. He pulls you in close again and holds you against his body. Your face is pressed to his neck while he rubs the back of your head. His hips start to do the majority of the thrusting, bucking up into you fervently.

More incoherent strings of words escape you as you melt into his chest. You press a few sloppy kisses to the base of his neck. Despite him taking over, you were still being whiny and squirmy. He knew you were in discomfort, but it should be getting better, right?

“What is it, babydoll? What else do you need?” he coos.

Your head falls back and a sound of general pent up frustration escapes you. Your hips roll into his thrusts in large, needy movements.

“It’s not enough,” you cry, almost near tears from the ache between your thighs, “Need you more. Closer. Need it.”

You tug at his arms trying to get him to wrap them tighter. There wasn’t much Leon could do though. You were already as close as possible, any closer and you wouldn’t be able to move, which he was sure wouldn’t go over well with you. He felt so bad for you though. His sweet baby bunny suffering like this.

He watches you, your weak attempts at getting yourself off by rising and falling on his lap. He can’t take watching you struggle like this. Doing the only thing that could think of, he boosts you up and quickly flips you over.

You’re now pinned beneath him. His toned body is all over yours, heated skin pressed to you in every way. He spreads your arms out and holds your wrists down. His hips are against yours. He’s just grinding into you now, not even pulling out with his thrusts. He was as deep as possible. If this wasn’t enough, he didn’t know what else to do.

“How’s that, pretty girl? Is that how my baby bunny wants it? Wants Daddy nice and deep, ready to spill his cum and breed her cute pussy,” he breathes.

You nod eagerly, eyes rolling back at the relief you felt. This is what you needed. Feeling his weight on top of you, unable to move anywhere else.

“Mhm, this is what you need, sweet baby. You’re gonna take every last drop. Gonna keep it all in to make sure it takes too. If any leaks out, that just means I’ll have to fuck it back in. We’ll just have to go as many times as we need to,” he groans.

“Yes Daddy. Wanna take it all. Gonna be full of your cum for days,” you whimper.

“Yeah you will be. I think that’s what I’ll do from now on. Whenever my baby bunny goes into heat, I’ll have to stay home, make sure to keep you in bed, keep you plugged up full of Daddy at all times. That pretty little head won’t have to think about anything but being bred,” he says.

You just nod again, unable to get proper words out at the minute.

“I feel you squeezing, sweetheart. You getting ready to cum for Daddy?” he coos and reaches up to stroke your ears. He hikes your thighs up more, giving him a deeper angle to drive into you with. You gasp from the change, and your noises get higher as he rams in as much as he can without it being painful.

“Daddy!” you cry out. It’s all you can say. You had more, but it could only come out in the form of that one word right now. He’s all that was on your mind. Daddy daddy daddy.

“Yes, baby. Yes. Daddy’s here. Gonna fill you full of cum and then love on you for the rest of the night,” he purrs, “My baby was so brave, dealing with this all by yourself. But doesn’t it feel so much better when Daddy takes care of you?”

“Mhm, mhm,” you agree quickly.

Your hips start bucking while your body spasms. Leon knew this was it.

“Good girl, baby. Cum whenever you want. Let it feel good baby, get perfect and tight,” he says.

You do just that. You let the release wash over you. You shudder and dig your fingers into his muscles as the feelings bubble over.

“My perfect little bunny,” he praises softly while watching you let go.

It’s not much longer until his cock his pulsing violently within you. He thrusts as hard and as deep as possible before letting out a loud groan and burying his face in your neck.

“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” he mumbles.

He spills it all inside you, hips twitching and arms locking around you. In the end, you’re both panting. He pulls back a little to kiss your forehead again. He looks down into your eyes.

“How’re you feeling now, sweet girl?” he asks softly.

“Better for now,” you answer. Your head starts to clear and return to its normal state.

He nods and kisses your head again. He rolls over onto his back, scooping you up against his chest while staying inside you. He rubs your back gently.

“You did so good, baby,” he whispers, “Now you see you don’t have to do that alone. You can trust me, sweetheart. I only want to help you. Keep you happy.”

You nod and look up at him lovingly.

“If this is what you need, this is what you need. We can get through it together,” he says softly.

“Together,” you agree softly and scoot up slightly, kissing him gently on the lips.

He smiles big and holds you closer somehow. He leans in for another kiss and another. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough.

[dyaz-stories]

JUJUTSU BOYS + PDA

how the jjk boys are when you're in public with them

including: gojo, nanami, choso, yuuji, megumi, maki

word count: 3.6k (500-600 words for one character)

cw: intended as canon compliant, established relationships, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, public demonstrations of affection, can't think of anything else tbh

a/n: been reading some fics in this format so wanted to try my hand at it again. it's been years since I wrote short pieces like that, so I hope you'll enjoy them!

GOJO

Gojo has no concept of personal space, and that is something you had to get used to since you started dating — if anything, since before you started dating. Even when the two of you were at a more flirtatious stage, he’d always be leaning towards you to talk to you, face inches away from yours, hands on your hips if he needed to move past you, arm casually around you if you were sitting next to each other. It was all the better if it flustered you.

None of this has changed, except that he’s much more extra about it now. Holding your hand while walking? Nah, that’s boring. He’ll have his arm around your shoulders, even if it’s not convenient given the height difference. He’ll also try to put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, pout if you tell him not to do it. If you’re waiting in line with him, he has both of his arms around you, is resting his chin on top of your head, and wants nothing more than for you to lean back into his chest, relaxing into his embrace. You can both be doing totally unrelated things — you’re reading and he’s checking his phone — but you’re slotted against each other, and that’s how it is ideally for you.

You’re waiting for him to show up to your date when you feel yourself surrounded by familiar arms, and then his cheek is pressing against yours as he surveys the book you’re holding in your hands.

“Whatch’ya reading?” he asks, breath warm against your cheek.

“Just doing some research on emerging curses,” you say with a shrug as you close it and put it in your bag. “So, did you want to check out that new bakery?”

He hums in reply, and you wait for him to move so you can start walking.

He doesn’t.

“…do you plan on letting go of me?” you ask after a while, turning your head to look at him.

He pouts at you, inches away from your face.

“I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet…”

“We’re in public, Satoru,” you say, feeling your face heating up.

“So? Let ‘em stare. They might as well, if you ask me.”

You want to roll your eyes — one day, you’ll have to talk about that exhibitionist streak of his — but in the meantime, you just have to crane your neck a little to peck his lips. They’re soft, as always, and he follows greedily when you pull away, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up gently as he presses more kisses on the corner of your lips, then on your cheek.

“You’re impossible,” you say, badly hiding your laughter. “Let’s go, or we won’t make it to closing time. You’re late, by the way.”

He lets out a heartbroken sigh, but finally frees you, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you start walking towards the bakery. He keeps his strides short, so you don’t have to run to keep up with him, instead allowing you to keep a comfortable pace.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m just too good at my job, they can never get enough of me.”

“Aw, poor darling,” you say. You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and bring it to your lips to press a kiss on the back.

He lets out a cough that doesn’t do much to disguise the fact that he’s getting flustered, and you grin, satisfied. Two can play that game.

Fortunately, neither Satoru nor you have any intention of forfeiting any time soon.

NANAMI

Nanami is a private man. There is no reason for the whole world to know his business, and he doesn’t feel the need to put his relationship on display for everyone to see. His softness for you is still plain to see in how gentle his voice gets when he speaks to you, in how carefully he chooses his words, in how fond his eyes are when he listens to you tell him about your day. He knows you like him holding your hand, though, so he’ll indulge you, especially when you’re walking by his side through crowded streets.

That is for practical reasons, of course. First, it just wouldn’t do to lose sight of you. Second, people tend to steer clear of him, his serious expression and his broad frame, and that means they realize quickly to steer clear of you. It has nothing to do with how soft your hand is in his, or how the way you use your thumb to stroke his skin sends shivers down his back.

“That’s a lovely restaurant,” you comment, eyes drinking in the elegant decor while Nanami is examining the menu.

“It had excellent reviews,” he answers, not going into details as to the great lengths he’d gone to in order to ensure that this date was as perfect as humanly possible.

“I’ve been in the neighborhood so many times, and I had no idea this was here,” you say. The place is very small, only a handful of tables, all of them now filled. You’re sharing an alcove with Nanami, creating some distance with other customers.

“There aren’t many tables available, so they don’t advertise much,” he explains as he sets the menu down. “But they’re known for their excellent cuisine.”

You give him a smile, then lean closer to him to kiss him on the cheek. Your lips linger just a little too long, and then you move them close to his ear, which is already turning quite red.

“Thank you for planning all that,” you say sweetly. “It looks wonderful.”

He clears his throat when you pull away, avoiding your eyes.

“Of course,” he answers, voice wavering imperceptibly. “Anything for you.”

And you know he means it, too.

Under the table, his hand finds your leg, large palm easily covering your knee while calloused fingers carefully rub your calf. You bite your lip, welcome the warmth that spreads in your body. You know Kento well enough to be sure that that’s as far as he’ll go, that he wouldn’t dare to do anything more in such a public setting, and that makes you enjoy the intimacy of the gesture all the more.

Later that night, while the two of you are walking out, his jacket is around your shoulder at his insistence — “It’s cold outside” — and he’s getting ready to call a taxi.

“Kento?”

He lowers the phone to look at you, and you push yourself on your tiptoe, hand closing around his tie to pull him down towards you.

It’s late at night, he tells himself. There’s no one around, he tells himself. That’s why he closes his eyes and allows himself to melt into the kiss, regretting it when you pull away too soon and catching himself before he grabs you by the hips to get you closer to him.

“I had a great evening,” you say. “Should we take this to somewhere more private?”

How much more merciless can you get?

“Certainly,” he says. “Just give me a second.”

There is nothing he can deny you.

CHOSO

Choso cannot wrap his head around what he can and cannot do around you. The rules for what is proper, what is acceptable, have shifted so much since he was last around, and he would die before he embarrassed you — or worse, before he did something that would make you push him away. He knows that you wouldn’t, and yet the fear is like a weight that tugs on his heart every time he thinks about it. He walks by your side, glancing at your hand that’s freely hanging between the two of you, and though he brushes his knuckles against yours, he just cannot bring himself to do it. It’s to the point where it’s the only thing he’s thinking about — and he just can’t do it.

Then you see something that catches your eye and you grab his hand and pull him with you in that direction, and he thinks his heart could just fall out of his chest. You make it look so easy, so natural, being with him coming as easy to you as breathing, and he couldn’t possibly ask for more. It takes him many other tries, many other dates, before he can take your hand in his. When he does, you glance down in surprise, then grin at him, and kiss his knuckles softly — and he’s so happy he could die.

“So,” you say, sitting on the park bench, knee pressed against his while you’re leaning into him to show him your phone, your hair tickling his neck, “that’s the movies they have on tonight. Think we should call Yuuji to ask him what to watch?”

“Hm,” Choso says, not really focusing on anything you’re talking about, not when you’re this close to him, “isn’t— isn’t that the one franchise he’s always talking about?”

You burst out laughing, then rest your head on his shoulder.

“No offense, babe, but there is no one in the world I’d go see a Human Earthworm movie for. Even if this one is supposed to have romance in it,” you shudder at the thought, “I’d like to go see something actually. You know. Watchable.”

Choso’s mind is going in overdrive. You’re so close, and he knows he should have gotten used to this by now. He isn’t usually like this, but some passers-by are looking — not necessarily being judgmental, though there was an old lady earlier who scoffed and shook her head, but… looking.

“Then I don’t know if Yuuji is going to be much help,” he manages to say as you keep scrolling on the cinema’s website.

“That’s fair,” you sigh, standing up from the bench, and even if he can now think again, he misses your warmth and your smell right away. “Well, maybe we drop the movie and just go get something to eat, what do you say?

“Sounds good,” he answers, standing up after you.

Hesitantly, almost clumsily, he reaches for your hand, fingertips brushing against your thigh as he does, then tightens his grip around your palm, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip away from you. You give him a fond smile, then take a step to get closer to him, and kiss him gently. His breath hitches, and his eyes dart around the mostly empty park.

“T-there’s people around,” he says quietly, and he hates that you step back to look around.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”

He takes your hand to pull you with him, and you follow him through the grass as he finds a more secluded spot, behind a tree.

“There,” he says, and you chuckle at how satisfied with himself he sounds.

“Oh Choso,” you coo, leaning against the tree while you grab his shirt to pull him down towards you. His mouth is warm, eager, and his cheeks remain a fierce shade of red as he kisses you back insistently.

You would have missed the beginning of the movie anyway.

YUUJI

The thing about Yuuji is that any type of public demonstration of affection feels so natural coming from him. It’s almost never meant to be suggestive, it’s not something he thinks through, it’s just something he does. You’ll be sitting with Nobara when he appears, and he just puts his arm around you while talking to her, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You’re walking with him when he lifts his head up like he’s forgotten something, and what he forgot was to hold your hand, silly him.

If you walk by him while he’s sitting, he’ll grab your hips to pull you in his laps, fingers rubbing circles on the skin of your arms, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers as he holds your hand. After all, why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t even realize that it flusters you, and it just feels so natural for him to show his affection like that. He’ll look at you with stars in his eyes while you speak, not seeming to realize that his face is so close to him while you’re sitting in his lap.

No one pays attention to it anymore. You arrive just as Nobara is starting the movie — she’s putting on an action movie, thank you very much, even if Gojo just bought the collector edition of Human Earthworm 4 for Yuuji, with the director’s cut — and with all the students crammed in the room, including Panda, who’s taking most of the space on the couch, there’s nowhere left for you to sit.

“Come here,” Yuuji says cheerfully, waving you towards the armchair where he’s found his spot, “it’s about to start.”

You glance around the room for a reaction, but no one is paying you any mind. You walk over to him, perching yourself on one of the arms, legs over his. He doesn’t seem puzzled by it, just puts an arm around your waist casually.

Of course, you end up still sitting in his lap eventually, just slipping in it at some point in the movie. Can you be blamed? He’s warm and comfortable, and he wraps both arms around you so he can tuck his chin in the crook of your shoulder, nose brushing against your cheek when he turns his head. Not that he seems to notice how it makes your pulse quickens, eyes focused on the movie.

“What are the themes even supposed to be,” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance.

“’Military good’?” you suggest quietly as a guy gets blown up on screen.

“The first half of the movie was about military bad,” he protests. “They can’t just act like that never existed.”

“Would you two shut up,” Nobara shouts from her spot, “or Maki will come beat you up!”

The two of you pipe down, knowing the threat is very serious and not one to take lightly.

When the movie ends, everyone gets up, stretching, but you’ve gotten comfortable against Yuuji’s chest, and you don’t feel like doing that just yet.

“That was terrible,” Yuuji comments, and you let out a brief laugh. Gojo has somehow made a cinephile out of him, and you love how worked up he gets over that stuff.

“Yeah, we should have been watching Human Earthworm 4 instead,” you say.

“Exact— oh, you’re making fun of him.”

You giggle, then tilt your head to kiss him. For a second, he freezes, eyes going wide. Kissing is the one thing he rarely initiates — but when you do, you get to see his gaze soften, before his whole body goes soft. His hold on your waist tightens — and then a pillow thrown with impressive precision hits him, and only him, on the ear.

“Not in public,” Maki shouts from all the way into the kitchen.

“Hey,” your boyfriend protests, “I’m not the one who—”

“You’re such a traitor,” you gasp, struggling to pull yourself free from his arms — but it’s no use against his strength, and he refuses to let go.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Now, where were we?”

You might have been at fault for the first pillow, but that second one is all on him, as far as you’re concerned.

MEGUMI

Megumi is a private guy. He can be affectionate in public, but there is a side of him that he only wants you to see. He especially doesn’t want any of your nosy friends, or worse, his adoptive dad to see how he can be around you. They would never stop teasing him after, and he doesn’t think he could live with that.

Or that they could live with that. Because he’d kill them.

It does annoy him that he’s supposed to deny himself because of them. If it was up to him, he’d spend most of his time alone with you, preferably in a small house in the middle of a forest with no one around, no curses, no sorcerers, no nothing. That, sadly, isn’t an option though, so he has to find his own way to do things.

“Don’t move,” he says sternly. “You have something on your face.”

You roll your eyes, but tilt your head up towards him, as he carefully runs his thumb under your eye, then over your cheek, blowing on it once it’s done.

“What was it?” you ask.

“Just an eyelash,” he says with a shrug. “You’re good now.”

You study him, waiting for him to give something away, but he doesn’t, just staring at you with the same expression he always wears.

“Should we get going?” he asks. “I thought we were supposed to catch a movie.”

“Sure,” you relent. “We should get moving.”

The streets are quite full at this time of the day, and you have to step aside frequently to let people pass, sometimes losing sight of Megumi. Eventually, with a sigh, he grabs your hand, pulling you with him as he walks, sending murderous glares to anyone who stays in his path.

“You’re going to get lost at this rate,” he mutters as he pulls you with him.

“I mean, worst case scenario we meet back at the theater,” you say, and you grin at the offended look he gives you. He notices it, but doesn’t answer, a light pink dusting his cheek as he glances away.

He hates the idea of being away from you on a day that’s supposed to be about the two of you — but since he refuses to say the quiet part out loud, you get to tease him all you want.

To be fair to him, having Megumi as your scary guard dog does make it much easier and much faster to reach the theater. He gives you a pointed look when you get there, and, to your regret, lets go of your hand quickly, though his touch lingers there a second longer than necessary.

“Should we get a couple seat?” you ask innocently as you approach the register.

Megumi glares at you once more while you give him a sweet smile.

“It’s better that way, right?” he says, clearing his throat. “Otherwise strangers might have to share one.”

“Sure,” you nod, not even bothering to hide your grin. “It’s just more practical, right?”

“Right,” he says stiffly.

Even once you are in the couple seat, he keeps a thoroughly appropriate distance from you, one that you might find a little hurtful if, at the end of the commercials, he didn’t fake a yawn to put his arm around you, in the least smooth way known to man.

“You know you can just do it,” you say quietly as the lights turn off, resting your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go through all that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles.

Reaching for his face, you tilt his head towards you, and push yourself to meet his lips for a sweet, soft kiss. For the first time since you’ve stepped foot outside, his whole body relaxes into yours, and he stops trying to pretend.

“You had something on your lips,” you whisper when you pull away.

He snorts, then quickly goes back in to steal one more kiss from you before the movie starts.

“Liar,” he says.

As if he’s one to talk.

MAKI

Maki isn’t a demonstrative person as a general rule. She does compliment you without hesitation, words falling from her mouth so genuinely that it never fails to fluster you, but physical demonstrations of affection don’t come easy to her, maybe because she received so little of it as a kid. She does it sporadically, and she does very much enjoy teasing you, loves knowing that she can get those reactions out of you.

It’s the more spontaneous gestures that get to you though. She’ll kiss your forehead after a battle that left you bruised, a way of comforting you. She’ll pat your head after you managed to pull an impressive move during training. On one occasion, when you got injured, she carried you in your arms to Shoko, demanding that you be taken care of right this instant. She’d been the one to get flustered after that, hiding her face in her hand in embarrassment when it was brought up later on.

It might not come easy to her, but she does love it when you do it — when you show her your love in that way.

“You’re late,” she scolds you when you reach her for one of your dates, needing to take a second to catch your breath because you’ve been running since getting out of the subway.

“Sorry,” you say between deep breaths, “there was an emergency.”

Worry flashes on her face immediately.

“A curse? Were you hurt?”

She reaches for you, tilting your face towards her as she examines it, then study your body to make sure you weren’t injured. You let her, surprised at first, then endeared.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she frowns once she realizes how soft your gaze has become.

You grin, then push yourself closer to kiss her. You don’t care that you’re in public, and though it wouldn’t have occurred to her to do it, neither does she. The kiss is sweet, gentle. I’m alive, you’re alive, it says. No need for more.

“See?” you ask cheerfully. “All good. Now, I’m pretty sure you were going to buy me dinner…”

She clicks her tongue, but she’s grinning. It’s nice to see her so at ease, so relaxed. It’s a side of her you’d never see within the walls of Jujutsu High, nor on a mission. You’re the only one that can bring it out of her, and man do you love it.

“I’m buying? Again?”

“I did almost just die.”

“Nice try, but you told me you were fine.”

“I’m fine now,” you insist, “but…”

“Well, I was disowned by my family, so I don’t have money. You’re buying.”

The two of you keep bickering, but, as you walk, you reach for her hand. She pulls away at first, years and years of reflexes kicking in instinctively, and once she realizes what you were doing, she’s the one who takes your hand in hers. She holds it delicately, careful not to break it — to be fair, her strength would probably allow her that.

It’s so sweet and light, being out there with you like that. So normal. She hopes it never ends.

You squeeze her hand, and she lets you guide her across the street, content with just following, knowing that she can trust you to fill in her shortcomings in the relationship, like she does it for yours.

The sky is grey, the forecast said it might run later tonight — Maki’s planned an umbrella, she’s sure you didn’t think of it — but as far as she’s concerned, the day is as beautiful as it could possibly be.

this is my first time writing for... pretty much everyone here except gojo lol. i hope you enjoyed it and that the characterization wasn't too off, but any feedback is welcome! if you want to support me and my writing, please reblog/leave a comment or send me an ask, i'd love to chat! i'll see you later for some more jjk writing ^-^

you can find my gojo x reader work here

[covenofagatha]

Okay but hear me out…

Agatha and Reader meet at a BDSM club? Kink level as far as you’re comfortable writing (though it would me amazing if there was a strap-on and maybe a fucking machine but only if you’re comfortable with it)

Hope I did it justice!

There's something in here for everyone

What's your fantasy?

Word count: 4600

Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, fingering, strap on, sex toys, degradation, praise, gagging, spanking, blindfolds, restraints, fucking machine, mommy kink (hope this is all)

This is a bad idea. 

That is the only thing going through your mind as you walk up to the doors of “The Velvet Hex.” 

Westview’s only BDSM club can be found in an unassuming part of town, in a relatively plain building. 

Definitely not what you were expecting. 

You aren’t even sure what you’re doing here, but your best friend Wanda had told you that you desperately needed to get laid and to go out and have some fun. 

But her idea of “fun” had come when she had plopped down in the chair of the library next to you and told you to take the BDSM test, gleefully holding up her phone with her results.   

So you had taken the test right there, turning more and more red as the questions went on, and when you finally finished, Wanda had looked over and let out a low whistle. 

“Damn, girl, you are kinky,” she had said as you compared yours to hers and you felt your cheeks burn even more. 

And then she had whispered, in the Westview University campus library, that her girlfriend’s roommate knew a woman who owned her own club like that, and they were having an exclusive invite-only night where anything was on the table. 

You had looked at her with questioning eyes, wondering where she was going with that, and Wanda had smacked your knee for being oblivious. 

“Nat’s roommate told us she could get us in if we wanted. We said no, but I’m sure Rio could get you an invite. You should go and explore,” she explained, a smirk plastered to her face while she wiggled her eyebrows at you. You weren’t surprised that Natasha and Wanda hadn’t wanted to get involved in that world, but you couldn’t ignore how the offer piqued your interest. 

You hummed casually. “Oh yeah?” 

And Wanda had grinned, seeing the wheels turning in your head. You were curious, that’s all. Obviously you weren’t looking for anything.

The next day, she gave you a letter on purple cardstock with a date, time, location, and password. 

At the moment, it seemed like a good idea. 

But standing here now, outside alone the club with the paper clutched in your hand, your heart is racing. 

You should turn back now and go back to your dorm. You could lie to Wanda, tell her that it was just okay, and no one would ever have to know. 

But a small part of your brain nags at you and tells you to go inside. You’re not sure why, but it feels like something from the club is calling to you, drawing you in. 

So you take a deep breath and knock on the door. 

A slot slides open and you can see a man’s brown eyes. 

“Password?” He asks. 

You clear your throat and hold up the cardstock. “Katoptronophilia.” You’re not even sure if you’ve sounded it out correctly, but the slot closes and the door swings open. 

You step inside hesitantly and take in your surroundings. 

The room is dimly lit with different colored LED lights glowing in different corners over doors that lead to different rooms. There’s a good amount of people in here, just mingling at the moment. There’s people dressed in leather outfits, or tight, short dresses, or nothing at all. 

Anything is on the table, you remember Wanda saying. You had done some research, just to see what you were getting yourself into, and the website had said that it was a tame environment, normally no sex allowed. But the exclusive, invite-only event tonight must be cause for an exception. 

You move a bit further into the main room, eyes darting all over the place. A woman yanks on a leash that’s connected to a younger man’s neck, forcing him down on all fours and making him crawl after her. A waitress bends over in a man’s lap to pick up a napkin she dropped, exposing her naked ass to him and his friends. Two women 69 on a couch while a third woman watches, slowly fingering herself to the sight. 

Feeling a little overwhelmed, you head to the bar. You’re really not sure what you’re doing here. 

And of course, the bartender ignores you. You try several times to get their attention, but people come up next to you, order something, and they get their drink immediately. 

You’re about to give up, maybe even just call it a night, when an older woman saunters in next to you. You don’t even look at her, rolling your eyes at how she will inevitably get a drink before you do. 

“Your usual?” The bartender asks her, and that makes you glance over. She’s a bit taller than you, long dark hair, bright blue eyes. She’s wearing a black blazer and pants, but under the blazer is a see-through bra. 

Your mouth runs dry. This is the first person you’ve seen here tonight that you actually find attractive. 

“Yes, please,” the woman next to you says, and then she turns her head to look at you and it almost stops your heart. “And what do you want?” 

You’ve been ignored so many times you’ve almost forgotten. “Oh, um, a Dirty Shirley, please.” The woman nods at the bartender, who starts working. “Thanks,” you say. “Do you come here often?”

The moment you say it, you cringe. Is it weird to ask someone if they’re a regular at a BDSM club? But the woman just laughs and shakes her head. 

“I’m the owner, darling,” she says and your mouth drops open. “Agatha Harkness.” 

“Oh,” you reply, completely dumbfounded. You introduce yourself and she reaches out her hand. You take it, feeling a spark at the contact. 

“So,” she drawls, eyes raking over your body, taking in your short dress and the amount of skin on display appreciatively. Your body burns under the intensity. “What brings you here for the first time?”

You frown. “How did you know it was my first time?” You don’t know why you’re even asking, it’s got to be obvious based on your tense composure and general awkwardness at being in this environment.

But she just smirks. “I would’ve remembered seeing you around here.” Surely the owner of this club is not flirting with you. “So?” 

Your brows furrow. “So?” 

“What brings you here?” She reminds you of her earlier question and you inwardly smack yourself. 

What exactly should you say? Your best friend thinks you should get laid and that you’re kinky? “Just wanted to try something new,” is what you settle on. “Get out of my comfort zone.”

Her grin widens and you see a slight resemblance to a shark about to get its prey. “And now that you’re here, how do you feel? Are you good with sitting here, or–” She leans in closer until you can feel her warm breath on your lips. You shudder at the proximity. “–do you want more?” 

“What are you suggesting?” You whisper back, a playful lilt in your voice, and you see her eyes light up before dropping to your lips. You close the gap before you can think too hard about it, brushing your mouth against hers. Your boldness surprises both of you and she chuckles darkly. 

“Whatever you want. Surely you have some things you want to explore, or else you wouldn’t be here,” she says, thumb coming up to tug at your bottom lip. You flick your tongue out against it and her eyebrow raises, urging you on. 

You shrug noncommittally, suddenly feeling much more confident. “Just wanted to spice things up a bit. See if there was any trouble I could get in tonight.” 

Agatha rests her head on her hand, dark eyes drinking you in. “Do you really want trouble though? Or do you want to be a good girl?” A tiny gasp slips out at the praise. 

“I can be whatever you want me to be,” you answer honestly and she draws you back in for a real kiss this time, all tongue and teeth and lips, and you can taste a hint of cinnamon in her mouth. She devours you like she can’t get enough until you have to stop to breathe. 

Agatha steps back and tugs you away by the hand, leaving the drinks the bartender had just put down in front of you. 

Figures that when you finally get your drink, you don’t even get to have it. 

But you can’t complain, because Agatha is weaving you through the crowd of people on the main floor, giving you the grand tour of the place. You see groups experimenting with ropes and someone teaching how to tie safe knots, you see spanking and flogging, the list goes on. 

Your head is spinning. 

Agatha stops outside a door in the back and looks back at you. “You don’t have to do anything that you won’t want to do, okay? You can say no at any point.” 

You gulp at the serious tone in her voice and nod. She pushes the door open and turns on the lights so you can see. 

Stepping into the room, your breath catches. Three out of four walls, including the one that the door is on, is covered from ceiling to floor in mirrors. The fourth wall, the one to the right of the door, is glass, looking into an adjoining room with couches facing you. 

In the middle of the room, there’s something akin to a hospital cot, although more comfortable-looking, a machine of sorts with a dildo attached to it, and then a table in the corner with more sex toys than you've ever seen in your entire life combined. There’s a chest under it and you can only imagine what’s in there.

“Jesus,” you rasp, taking it all in. You know you should be terrified, but with Agatha standing next to you just carefully watching, you feel eerily calm. “Do you – uh, what do you want me to do?” 

She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and cups your chin. “What do you want, sweetheart? I can give you anything.” 

Your mind goes a hundred miles a minute to try and figure out what you want, eyes darting back and forth between all the things in the room. “What are my options?” 

“Well,” she says slowly. “The second I hit this button –” She motions to a circle on the wall. “The light above the door to the other room will turn green and unlock and people can come in. I can hit it or not, completely up to you. Or it could just be the two of us in here, and I could make you feel so good, baby. Fingers, mouth, strap-ons, the machine, any toy you’d like. Whatever you want to explore or try, we could do it.” 

Her clinical words have you dripping. Hearing her say all the things she could do to you only makes you want all of it more. 

One thing gives you pause though. “People…would watch?” You say, trying out the words. You’ve never thought about having an audience for sex before. 

Agatha’s eyes darken. “A pretty young thing like you? Honey, people would do more than just watch.” 

You let out a small gasp. You know you should feel dirty, but the way she says it, like people would be so turned on watching you and Agatha that they’d have to do something about it, makes you feel like you’re floating. 

“But the door can stay locked,” she reassures, taking your silence as a bad thing. Little does she know, heat is coursing through you at the thought. 

“No,” you peep. “It’s okay.” 

Before doing anything, she grasps onto your cheeks and pulls you in for a long kiss. You swoon, knees almost buckling when her tongue slides into your mouth, and she moans at your taste. 

You didn’t know having this affect on an older woman would be this addicting. 

“Fuck, baby,” she groans, tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth and making you whimper. “I think you’re the most delicious thing we’ve ever had in here.” 

“Agatha,” you pant and you don’t miss her sharp inhale at the way you say her name. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

“I want you,” you tell her, kissing her earnestly again, and you did not imagine this was how your night was going to go in your wildest dreams. 

She finally breaks the kiss for air, resting her forehead against yours. “Get on the bed,” she orders, and you see a hardened glint in her eye, like something has shifted inside her. 

There’s no way to ignore how much that turns you on. A small noise escapes from your lips and you scramble to obey, sitting upright on the cot. 

She starts to make her way over to you slowly, but you stop her. “Can you hit the button?” You ask, voice small and timid, but sure of yourself. 

You see desire flit over her face as she smirks knowingly. The moment her hand presses it, you let out a quiet groan and clench around nothing. 

There’s a clicking sound and the door to the other room opens. Five people file in and take a seat on the couches and your breathing becomes heavy. There’s a slight murmur from the other side of the glass, but it’s all incoherent. 

But by the way they’re all looking at you, you don’t have to try that hard to figure out what they’re talking about.

“First things first,” Agatha says, now walking over to you. She’s whispering so your audience can’t hear. “Do you know what a safeword is?” 

You nod. 

“What do you want yours to be?” 

Your heartbeat picks up. “Will I need one?” 

Agatha shrugs. “Better to be safe than sorry. I promise I’m not going to go hard on you. At least not for your first time.” She winks and you feel a visceral ache inside of you. 

“Purple,” you say after thinking about it for a minute. She smirks at your choice and runs a hand through her hair. 

She looks you up and down again, just to make sure there’s no sign of hesitation. “Do you want to take your dress off?” She asks and you feel a pang of longing inside you for her. 

You stand up, nodding, and turn around so she can help you with the zipper. You can hear her chuckle from behind you and you watch in the mirror on the wall as her eyes drop lower as she unzips you. 

She peels the dress down your body and you step out of it, the entire thing feeling a bit surreal. Watching the scene through your reflection makes you feel like an outsider, like it’s not actually you in the mirror. 

Same hair, same face, same body, same lacy lingerie you put on earlier, but not the same person.

But when you watch Agatha plant kisses on the person’s neck and you feel them, you’re reminded that it is you. 

Your head drops back as her teeth scrape against your taunt veins and she sucks harder, pulling more sounds from your mouth. 

It’s a sight to see, the marks on your neck, the darkness of Agatha’s eyes, the way it looks like when her teeth sink into your skin.

Your breathing is ragged now and you can feel your slick on your inner thighs. 

“Please,” you beg, although you’re not quite sure what you’re asking for. Just more. 

Her grin in the mirror shows you that she understands completely. “Get on the bed.” This time, her voice is sharp, all traces of the softness from earlier gone. 

The scene has started. 

You clamber onto the cot, hoping it looks more sexy than you feel, and lay down on your back. Agatha comes to the side of you and pries open your legs, baring your covered, dripping pussy to the audience. You notice that more people have come in, and they’re hanging onto every movement. 

“God, you’re soaked,” she remarks, hand roughly cupping you and your hips buck. “Really getting off on this, huh? What a slut.” Her tone is scathing, but her eyes are watching your face carefully, just to make sure she’s not crossing a line. 

She’s not. 

It only makes you wetter and she can feel it. She chuckles condescendingly and you squirm. 

“You want me to touch you?” She asks and you nod your head so hard that it hurts. “Want me to show all these people what a good whore you are for me?” 

“Yes, please,” you gasp out, trying to ride her hand to feel just a little more. The hard pressure against your clit already has you feeling the tension building up in your stomach. 

She smirks and slides your underwear down your legs and holds them to her nose, breathing in your scent. 

“How would you feel about using these as a gag?” She questions conversationally, like she just asked you about the weather instead of something that sears your stomach and turns your world upside down. 

“Yes,” you breathe, desire raw in your voice. You feel like you’re drunk off her and she’s barely done anything to you. 

She grins and nods approvingly. “If you need to stop at any time and you can’t speak, tap me twice. Got it?” 

“Yes,” you say again and open your mouth wide so she can ball up your underwear and shove them inside. You moan at the musky flavor and you had no idea it would be so hot to taste yourself like this. 

Her fingers clasp your throat and you look at her with wide eyes, chest heaving with anticipation of what she’s going to do next. She trails her hand down and pinches your nipples through your bra. You stutter out a curse as she bends down and nips at your skin, tearing the fabric off without removing her mouth. 

And then her tongue swirls at your nipple and you keen, back arching off the bed. You can see the dazed looks on all the voyeurs’ faces, how they shift their weight watching, and it makes you want to show off more so they know just how good Agatha is making you feel. 

You garble around your panties incoherently, fingers twitching against the bed to stop yourself from showing her exactly what you need. 

She chuckles against your skin. “What do you want, baby? What do you need from Mommy?” 

At the pet name for herself, you let out an embarrassing whimper and a flush spreads throughout your body. 

“I thought you’d like that one,” she says smugly and before you can react, she sucks hard on your nipple and shoves two fingers into your waiting and wet cunt. A noise rips its way out of your throat and you throw your head back, hips frantically meeting every thrust. 

She lazily fucks you like she’s barely even trying to make you feel good, but it’s enough for you to get closer to the edge. 

You can’t do anything except take it, matching her thrusts, and your sounds get louder and louder, her fingers twisting and hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, and you’re about to cum –

– and she yanks her fingers out of you, leaving your hips faltering against nothing. 

She sucks them into her mouth, eyes closing at the taste. “Sorry, baby. But you’re not allowed to cum yet.” She slaps your cunt with her open hand and laughs at the reverberating sound of your wetness.

You whine pathetically around the as she walks around to the table and picks up a dildo and harness. 

“Do you want me to fuck you with this?” She asks, showing it to you and then to the audience. You glance at them to find several bobbing their heads with even more enthusiasm than you have. “Sweetheart?” She says to get your attention. 

You jolt out of the stupor you were in watching them watch you with bated breath and nod breathlessly, babbling senselessly again around the gag.

She smirks and puts the harness on over her clothes. You’re not sure why, but being completely naked while she is still fully clothed only makes it feel dirtier, hotter.  

Agatha attaches the dildo, pours some lube onto her hand and strokes it, and then grabs two silk cloths back over to you. She fishes the underwear out of your mouth and trails of saliva connect it back to your mouth. 

“Get up,” she says roughly and you scramble out of the bed immediately. She turns the cot like it’s nothing, angling it so it’s parallel to the glass instead of perpendicular. 

So the audience will be able to see everything with Agatha fucking you with her strap. The realization makes you squeeze your thighs together, feeling the waterfall between them. 

She beckons you back over and each step you take puts pressure on your aching clit. It’s agonizing and yet, the most alive you’ve ever felt. 

You get back on the bed and she maneuvers you into a position where you’re on your knees near the edge, resting your ass on your heels. You watch yourself in the mirror as she takes both your arms and ties them behind your back with one of the silk cloths. And then she puts the other one around your eyes, so you can’t see anything. 

The change in your body is almost instantaneous. Goosebumps spread all down your skin, you can hear the rustling of Agatha’s clothes behind you, you can feel just how wet you are, you can even smell yourself; every sense has become so much more heightened. 

Her hand gently presses on your back and guides you down, positioning your face against the bed so your ass is up in the air with your hands behind your back. She rubs your cunt, smearing your wetness everywhere. 

“You like being watched don’t you?” She taunts, and while yes, you apparently do, you think it’s more because of her. “Dripping all over my club like a slut, just needing to be fucked.” 

You whimper and sway your hips because it’s all that you can do. And then there’s nothing. She removes her hand and you strain your ears to see if you can hear anything. 

And then without warning, there’s a loud smack on your ass and your body jolts forward, a surprised grunt coming out of your mouth. She soothes the pain with her hand and then the tip of her strap is sliding against your folds and you whine. She presses it against your clit which makes you shudder.

“Beg for it,” Agatha demands and you don’t hesitate. 

“Mommy, please, please I need it so bad, please fuck me,” you chant and are rewarded when she slowly enters you. 

Your mouth falls open but no sounds come out as she begins to thrust, gripping your hips so tightly you know you’ll have bruises. 

You want them.

“God, look at my baby girl taking my cock so well for me,” she coos but you can hear the exertion in her voice as she starts to pound harder. “Such a good slut, such a good pet.” You whine involuntarily and you can practically hear her smirking. You wish to god more than anything that she would take the blindfold off you so you could look in the mirror and see what you looked like. 

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak, after already being denied earlier, and you’re about to cum when she pulls out. 

“No,” you sob, convulsing uncontrollably, the feelings of your orgasm tamping down. 

She spanks you again. “What did I say earlier? You’re not allowed to cum yet. And stop pouting before I make you.” With another swat to your ass, she pushes back inside of you and sets the same bruising pace as before. 

It takes you even less time for your lower stomach to tighten, and she pulls out again right as you’re on the precipice. 

“Please, please, Mommy, let me cum,” you cry, your entire body shaking. 

She laughs cynically and starts fucking you again. You’re fully unable to move, just being rocked back and forth with her thrusts, nothing more than a glorified toy for her to use. 

And she does use you. She brings you to the edge and then stops at least five more times, and you’ve completely lost the ability to think. Words spill out of your mouth like you’re drunk on Agatha, which you think you might be. 

You’ve never felt this thoroughly ruined before. 

But this time, when she pulls out, she doesn’t push back in. You feel her hands untying the restraint on your wrist and then on your hips, flipping your pliable body over so you’re on your back. She bends your legs up on the edge and rips the blindfold off and the light, even though dim, hurts your eyes. 

“How are you doing?” She murmurs, scanning your blissed out face for any sense of discomfort. 

You babble something along the lines of “I’m good” or at least you try to. You’re not actually sure what she hears. 

But she smiles genuinely nonetheless and leans down to peck your forehead. “You’ve done so well for me, pet. I think it’s time for a reward.” 

“I get to cum?” You ask weakly and she chuckles. 

“Oh yes, baby. You’ll get to cum as many times as you want.” Your heart leaps at the promise and she drags over the machine with the dildo. Your breathing quickens and she angles it up so it’s positioned right at your stretched-out cunt. 

Before you can even breathe, she smiles wickedly and turns it on. Your head falls back and your back arches up violently when it begins fucking into you. The pace never falters and you cum almost instantly. 

Agatha leaves your side but comes back seconds later, holding a vibrator. You moan pornographically loud when she turns it on and positions it against your clit. 

You cum again shortly after. 

The machine keeps thrusting inside you, faster than you’ve ever been fucked, and the direct stimulation against the most sensitive part of your body has you practically sobbing at the pleasure. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re cumming again, and then another one weakly rolls over your body. 

But it’s too much now, all the edging and now the overstimulation is hurting so you start to squirm away from it. 

She instantly catches on and drops the vibrator before rushing to turn off the machine. 

You pant heavily on the bed, completely spent, and she lets you calm down, gently stroking your hair. 

Even though you know you have an entire audience, all you can see is her. 

“How was that?” She asks. “Too much?” 

You shake your head, feeling the slight sheen of sweat everywhere and all you can think about is needing to shake a shower. 

And when you can see Agatha again. 

“No, it was perfect,” you say truthfully, your voice hoarse. She smiles and kisses your lips. 

“We’re open Thursdays through Sundays,” she says and you laugh. “Come back anytime, baby. Although, keep coming back and putting on a performance like that, I might have to keep you all for myself.” 

Nothing has ever sounded so good. 

[waddleonmywaywardducks]

How to get back into your practice after a burnout

Alot of times in our practices, we often just straight up forget. Not going to lie to you I didn't practice much until I got out of my mom's home...which was one year ago. And I also have a theory that since paganism isnt dogmatic and is meant to be ran by a community we fall out really easy, it's natural, paganism is different now. But anyways here is chaos's master guide on how to put on your big girl panties and get back the work.

(disclaimer: just because these things worked for me doesn't mean it's going to work for everyone else, this post is completely upg. I'm just offering advice.)

Starting out small

What never stuck to me is those post that are like: "stir your intentions into your coffee, light incense, pray" because like yeah thats a good way to start off I really dont think itll set in our brains to do this everyday. Instead what I recommend is finding days to practice and sticking to that day. Find a day where you useally do nothing and dedicate it to getting back into your practice.

You could use this day to research on all the things you forgotten (been there)

Or you could just leave offerings out for your deities and call it a day

I think if you uphold a certain schedule your mind will get into the habit of "oh today's witch day, time to do witchcraft" this is basic psychology, and I promise it works 😭😭

Deity work and getting back into it

Little reminder: your gods are not mad at you. They do not hate you. They love you.

I have had so many falling outs with deities because I just couldn't uphold a schedule. Hekate being one of them. Hekate really showed me the way once I moved out of my mother's house, and after so many ins and outs of my worship to her, she still showed me love and compassion. I promise your gods will do the same. They understand our mortal lives more then you comprehend. After all, this is their earth.

Stuff you can do to get back into worship with your deities:

- offerings, big or small

- dedicate days to them, in my schedule Hekate is worshipped on Monday, and Aphrodite on Friday.

- research ways to connect with them more

- don't make big promises that you will get back into your practice and never fall out again, thats just putting yourself in more responsibility, your gods will now expect that responsibility. I've done this before and I definitely got side eyed by Hekate 😭😭

I recommend reading over these lovely post by @/khaire-traveler

Subtle deity worship

I honestly used this alot to get back into worship with my deities 😭😭 these posts go into worship you could do for deities while you are either hiding your practice or just want to do something for your gods. Really helpful post 10/10.

Getting back into witchcraft

I know I kind of went over this already, but I feel like there needs to be some small steps to getting back into witchcraft before we get to rituals, spells and stuff of that sort.

To get back into witchcraft, I recommend meditating, either by yourself or with your deities. Meditation allows you to just focus on the present and let go of all your stresses. I like to meditate with my deities because I get visions from them easily this way, it's easier for me to communicate.

From there you can do research on the basics of witchcraft and work your way up to rituals and spell work... hopefully all of this makes sense

Anyways yeah that's all the advice I have to getting back into your practice, if I have anything else to add I'll reblog this and add more. But yeah! I really hopes this helps at least someone lol.

[princesssascha]

Get all your desires within a week

Have you been having trouble manifesting? Are you sick and tired of waking up everyday in your current reality and it feels like you tried every single possible manifestation technique out there yet nothing seems to work? I have come up with a 7 day challenge for you.

How do I know this works?

The universe doesn't give you what you want, it gives you what you ARE. By doing this challenge you will be matching the frequency of your dr which will allow your cr to transform.

This is a very powerful technique. Please make sure you know exactly what you want.

So, here are some of the rules:

You identify your desired reality as your current reality

You do EVERYTHING you would do in your dr, even if uncomfortable (for example, if your desired self(ds) goes to the gym at 5am everyday that's exactly what you're gonna do. It's only a week.)

Your "Cr" is your past. It is not your reality, it's imagination. Your dr is your only "correct and real" reality. After all you're doing everything you would in your dr, so that makes it your current reality.

You do this for 7 days. No cheating!

Feel free to add your own rules for yourself!

Now for the process

1.Write down your goals

What does your desired reality actually look like? Think about it and write it down. Yes, WRITE it down. Don't just think about it. Whether you do it on your notes app or on a piece of paper, write down clear habits of your ds. Some examples:

Goes to sleep at _ and wakes up at _

Works out

Works on her business/skills

Etc. anything. It doesn't have to be something important. Anything you can think of that you desire.

2.Identify your blocks

Now it's time to be brutally honest with yourself. WHY do you think your desires aren't here yet? What is blocking you from receiving your manifestations. This is the part that most people fail at, which causes them to not get their desires. Releasing those blocks can be difficult, but without it you are literally blocking your manifestations. I suggest you really research this topic, but here are some of the most common ones:

You see your 3D as your REAL reality.

You keep stressing about getting your desire NOW.

You have a lack mindset.

You don't trust yourself.

You check your 3D for your results.

3.Find the difference

Now that you know what you want it's time to find the differences. Now it might seem obvious, but again, you need to write it down. Since you already have what your desired reality looks like, here's how I do it in the easiest way. You write down your desired reality on one side and compare your current reality to it on the other side. For example: (let's just act one is on the left side and one is on the right side).

Dr: Wake up at 7am.

Cr: Wake up at 10am.

This will make it easier to change your habits later.

4.Act like you're in your dr

Now that you know what your goal is and what the difference is you are going to switch. Your desired reality is your new reality. Your current reality does not exist. It's your past. You are now in your desired reality and you KNOW that. Do everything you would do in this reality. From waking up to going to sleep. The whole day. Does your ds wake up at 5am and goes to the gym? Good. That's exactly what you're gonna do because it's your current reality. You are your dream self and your dream self is you.

5.Ignore your reality.

Now it's time for you to decide that your current reality is just a mindset. And you need to switch that mindset. You want the best for yourself and you will get it. You just need to allow it, so, from now on your only right reality is the reality you created for yourself. All the outside noise doesn't change that, because it is your reality now.

Ok, when will I get my results?

Immediately. The moment you start doing this and actually believe and persist that's the moment it becomes your reality.

But when will I see it in my 3D?

Once you accept you really have it. You need to actually believe it, and when that happens, you won't be looking for your 3D to confirm that. That's exactly when it appears in your 3D. It can be the same day, same week, same month, same or next year. You decide when you trust the universe. This is just an exercise to help those who keep stressing about their 3D. And it works magic.

[writer-logbook]

How to get back into writing: a 5-steps guide

As someone who hasn't written anything in a decade, this is what I did to get back into writing seriously.

Identify which archetype of writer fits me better. You may have heard George R.R. Martin saying there are two types of writers: gardeners and architects. Whether you believe in that statement or not isn't relevant per se, but the actual meaning behind that point is that you need to get to know yourself as a writer, how you work, what you need, etc., so you can adapt your environment to achieve your goals. Speaking of which…Gentle reminder : you're a person not a robot. You are allowed to work the way you want to, and not to follow whatever pieces of advice that are linked to these archetypes.

Set a realistic word count/session I can stick to over the long term. When you're a 9-6 office employee, it's not always easy to find time to write and sometime our day at work got the very best of us. Having that in mind, I set my word count up to 200-500 words per session or 1 chapter per week (they're rather small in my case). Gentle reminder : babysteps are better than no-step at all.

If I'm not writing, fine, I'll do some research or anything else. Your story will always require something from you. When I'm not in the mood for writing, there are two options : forcing myself or doing what I call para-writing. For instance it's : reading articles or books about improving my writing style, improving my worldbuilding, drawing a map of my city etc. This are not things that would appear in the novel but it would guide me throughout the process the way a walking-stick would do for an injured man. Gentle reminder : you always find something useful to do but at the end of the day, you still have to write.

Have a general idea of what I want to tell. I won't lie, I've plotted my entire novel from the very beginning to the very end, which means I know exactly what to write and when. If you're against having a defined plot, I'm no one to judge, but having at least the key events or the major points will definitely help you. Like a lighthouse, it will help you navigate through the mists of confusion or hesitation. Gentle reminder : It's better to know where to go even if you end up losing yourself along the journey. Having the map doesn't mean you have to follow it, but rather when you can allow yourself to take a step to the side.

Write something I enjoy. A bit cliché I admit, but it's the best advice I could give. You'll spend hours, days, weeks - even years !- on that story so better buckle up to something you really want to write. Otherwise the risk is to abandon that hard-work you've done halfway through the process. No one needs that frustration and that self-doubting questionnings. No one. Not you. Not even me. Gentle reminder : it's okay to want readers and reviews but I promise you, your writing will be really different on something you trully want to share...Remember how pissful it was to write an essay for class you didn't want to ?

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm VII

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: A look back to when you were still 'divorced'

You panted as Alexia rolled of off you. "We can't do this," You said," We're divorced."

"Yes, we are..."

There was silence for a moment as you both caught your breath.

You'd only just moved away to London a few months ago. You'd only just gotten settled at the hospital and with your new contract for the Arsenal Women's Team.

You'd only just gotten settled but, still, you felt the need to return home for the week, to be able to speak Spanish again with people that didn't have to stumble over their words to communicate with you.

Somehow, somewhere along the line, you'd ended up in Alexia's bed again.

You wouldn't say it was unwelcome. You wouldn't say that it didn't feel like a piece of home, curled up in her arms as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

But, still, the pair of you were divorced.

"Your toothbrush is still in the bathroom," Alexia said as you pulled yourself out of her comforting embrace," And your skincare stuff is still there."

You nodded, making your way through your evening routine.

You hadn't planned on doing that though. You had planned to just pull on your clothes and return back to the hotel room you booked.

Instead, you showered and brushed your teeth and did your skincare and pull on an old pair of sleep shorts and one of Alexia's even older Spain jerseys.

You ended up in her bed again, propped up on the pillows as you read through a medical journal absentmindedly as Alexia typed something on her laptop.

"What is that one?" She asked and you hummed as you turned the page.

"A women's ACL study," You replied, turning another page, scanning through a table of statistics," What are you doing?"

"Brand stuff...I think...I'm not actually sure..."

"Well make sure you read the contract, Ale," You reminded her," You don't want to be stuck in something you can't get out of."

"Oh, right, yeah."

"You send it to Eli. You know she'll check for you."

"You're so right, amo-" Alexia cut herself off.

She was about to call you 'amor'. She didn't think she was allowed to call you that now you weren't together. But she's never really called you anything different.

Ever since your marriage at five years old under the slide, you'd always been 'amor' to her. It was strange to not be able to call you that now.

All of this was strange.

Having you in her bed but somehow not being together at the same time. This was all natural. All normal but not at the same time.

Because you weren't together anymore.

Alexia wasn't quite sure where the boundaries were anymore. You'd never been just friends, not truly anyway. Sure, your official relationship started when you were twelve and you were both married by eighteen but even as little kids, the signs were there.

But you smiled at her now and Alexia forgot all about the fact that you were divorced and your life was now in England and she surged forward to plant a kiss on your lips.

You kissed back without even a thought, letting Alexia slip her tongue into your mouth.

You laughed as she pulled away. "What was that for?"

"Nothing. I can't want to just kiss you?"

"You're so sweet, Ale."

You yawned then and Alexia pulled the research paper from your hands.

"Alexia...I was reading that!"

"You're tired," She said in answer," Go to sleep."

"You're not my wife anymore," You reminded her," You can't tell me what to do."

A deep pit formed in Alexia's stomach at your words.

You were right. She wasn't your wife anymore and she didn't get to tell you what to do.

She was so used to reminding you to do things like that, to put down your research papers and get a good night's sleep, to hop in the shower instead of spending hours pouring through articles and papers and ideas.

She'd forgotten that you didn't need her to do that anymore.

"But it's nice that you still care," You said, curling up on your side.

There was silence for a moment before you peaked your head over your shoulder.

"Do you not spoon anymore, Ale?" You asked, a pout on your beautiful lips," I've really missed my big spoon."

That's all it took for Alexia to throw her laptop to the side, switch off the light and pull you into her arms.

[macgyvermedical]

Moving vs Fleeing (and what you need to flee)

I was on a call last night with a very reputable LGBTQ+ organization in my state that discussed the difference between moving and fleeing.

Essentially, moving is planned. You get an apartment and a job in another city- hopefully you visit that city to scope it out. Then you move your life. It takes, at minimum, months.

Fleeing is unplanned. Something is happening that is so bad in your area that you have to cut and run. It may not be police at your door. But it might be legislation that prevents you from using restrooms without the risk of being killed or arrested. It might be lack of access to medications and something that makes it illegal to get those medications in a different state. It might be the classification of your life (as someone gay or tans) as a sex crime, and sex crimes being punishable by death (a goal of project 2025).

And, they recommended, get things together before it gets to that point, even if you aren't sure that it will happen, so fleeing is as easy as possible if you need to do it.

Here's what you can do:

Pick a location you can get to either by bus, train, or car that has a good track record for your needs and that you think you could live. Do your research- are there jobs there in your field? Housing?

Then get yourself a bag or large backpack.

Get a file folder and put your documents in it. I mean things like your passport, your birth certificate, your social security card, copies of any professional licenses you have, a checkbook, name change documentation, copies of financial documents like mortgages, copies of insurance cards and policies, copies of marriage licenses, and a copy of your driver's license. These are things you might need if you have to prove your identity or get a job or apartment. Then print out maps of several routes to your destination. Put the file folder in the bag.

Add to that: a couple of changes of clothes for each person including a hat and a cloth or disposable face covering (people don't question them as much since the pandemic, and they're convenient to hide your face). Lightweight, caloric foods for at least 3 days that don't require cooking (protein bars work great for this). A month of medications and an emergency script for each medication for each person (get a paper prescription from your doctor that is good for a year or the max allowed for each medication) if you can get it. Pay out of pocket with a coupon card if your insurance won't cover your refill early. 1-2 containers of baby wipes so you don't necessarily need to shower. An empty water bottle for each person. A phone charger.

Buy a gift card that can be used for anything. I won't say how much because I don't know your situation, but make it enough that you can pay for gas or bus/train/airline tickets to your destination and (if you can) temporary lodging/food once you get there. Gift cards are less traceable than debit/credit cards and aren't easy to cancel. An alternative is cash, but that can be an easier target for theft if people see you with it.

Finally, bring something of comfort, like a blanket or memento or stuffed animal.

[embrosegraves]

𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝔹𝕠𝕪

Paul Aron x Fem!Reader Paul is sometimes shy about asking to touch you. He just wants to make sure he never assumes consent.

Warning: One (1) word in Estonian idk I tried. Mentions (and innocent touching) of boobies *gasp*

1.1k words hihihi

“Kallis?” [Sweetheart?]

You lifted your head from the class notes in front of you to see your boyfriend, Paul, standing at the door of your home office. He looked nervous, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be in the room. 

“Paul? Did you need something?” You hoped that softening your voice would help him not be as nervous. Having been dating for just over half a year, you were quickly becoming aware of some of his ‘tells’. Things like how his nostrils would flare a little if he wanted to laugh but thought it’d be inappropriate. Or how he would be extra nervous when he wanted to ask you something because he didn’t want to worry you with things while you were doing your coursework for uni. 

“I uh, I can come back later if you’re busy. It wasn’t really important.” Paul stammered a little as he answered you. It intrigued you immensely when Paul got shy, because it was such a difference to his very outgoing personality when he’s around his friends and teammates. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong? I promise you’re not disturbing or interrupting me.” You held your hand out towards him, inviting him to walk further into the room. He was careful as he walked towards you, like he didn’t want to disturb the research papers you had on the desk. You stood up as he reached you and lifted a hand to caress his face. 

“What did you need of me, My Love?” You kept your voice soft and your touch gentle. 

Paul lifted a hand and gripped your hand that was cradling his face. “I just- I really missed you.” 

A smile found its way onto your face. You finally realised that he was nervous because he wanted to be around you but didn’t want to distract you from your studies. Gently, you guided him to sit in the chair you were just in. Paul tried to protest that it was your chair and that he could find another one to sit on but you were having none of it. You sat down on his lap and told him that this way you could get some of your work done while still being around him. He settled pretty quickly after that. 

Admittedly it did take you a while to notice that Paul hadn’t moved his arms from the armrests of your chair,. So when you did notice, you were just a little confused. 

“Are you alright Darling?” You asked over your shoulder. 

“Uh huh.” He replied. 

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t moved your arms from the chair once.” You turned as much as you could to look at him face to face. His face was flushed a light pink colour as you twisted around on his lap. 

“I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me to touch you.” 

“Why would you think that?” You watched as his face slowly became more and more red. 

“I don’t think you ever said if you were okay with it and I didn't want to just assume that it would be alright to.” He moved his eyes away from yours. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

Barely stopping yourself from cooing at his adorably red cheeks, you twisted back around and leant back so you were resting on his torso. Grabbing both of his hands, you moved them to hug you around your midriff. Adjusting your head to look at his face, you whispered and peppered kisses to the underside of his jaw. 

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to be uncomfortable when you touch me. You're always so careful and gentle. If anything I want you to touch me more.” 

“But what if I accidentally overstep?” 

“I will tell you. But for now I want you to do something for me.” 

“Anything.” He left a shy, barely-even-there kiss behind your ear. 

“I want you to hold my boobs.” 

Paul was stunned into silence. Had he heard you correctly? You wanted him to do what? 

“You- Me- What?” He couldn’t get the words to exit his mouth. 

“I want you to hold my boobs. For two reasons. One, to prove that I trust you to touch me and be more casually intimate, and two, because believe it or not I actually find it very comforting. However, I need both my hands to finish typing up my class notes, which means I can’t hold them myself.” You placed a kiss on his jawline before sitting up a little so you could finish typing your notes. You felt as Paul also sat up a bit, presumably to keep the contact between your back and his chest. 

Just before you were about to set in and start on finishing your notes, Paul’s hands began playing with the hem of your shirt. 

“Can I lift it Kallis?” He whispered. 

“Of course you can My Love. You can do whatever you need, to make it easier if you’d like.” 

“Thank you.” He said, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck and leaving little feather-light kisses. His hands moved underneath your shirt and shyly travelled up your body before resting briefly at the apex of your breasts. Seeing as you had given him verbal permission, Paul decided he could easier grab hold of your breasts without your bra in the way. 

You hummed in acknowledgement when he mumbled that he was going to unhook the offending item of your clothing, focusing as much as you could on your notes. You knew that as much as the skin on skin contact was comforting for you, it was also incredibly important for Paul because it allowed him to test how far he was willing to go. He could set the pace knowing that if he accidentally took it too far, he could rely on you to tell him when to stop. 

You sat there on his lap for roughly 2 hours, Paul’s chin resting on your shoulder. Every now and then, Paul would give your breasts a gentle squeeze, making sure not to be too harsh. Occasionally, when you finished a paragraph of notes, you would give Paul a peck on the nose, his smile making your own smile grow with each kiss.  

Neither you nor Paul moved once you were done, except to lean a bit further back in the chair to be a little more comfortable. You were far too engrossed with the feeling of each other to even briefly entertain the idea of moving from where you sat. Too wrapped up in the love you had for each other. 

It was Paul who eventually whispered to you, breaking the silence. 

“Can I do this again tomorrow?” 

You huffed out a tiny laugh, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair as best you could. 

“Oh my sweet boy, you don’t even have to ask.”

I call this ✨ divine inspiration ✨

Aka the collective hivemind that is the discord server coming together to give the strength and inspiration to FINALLY advertise just how much I love Paul Aron.

anyways, started writing this at the end of F2 Quali, finished it at the end of F1 Academy Quali. Decided to gift while I was still delirious from lack of sleep (Aussie F1 fan struggles lmao)

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[etherealwitcherys-blog]

Understanding Deity Work vs. Deity Worship and Addressing Common Fears

Over the years of practicing witchcraft, many have come to me with questions and concerns about deity work and/or deity worship. It's completely natural to feel apprehensive, especially when starting something new. In this post I will get into the differences and address common fears to help you feel more confident in your practice!

Remember, working with or worshiping deities is a deeply personal journey. There is no one-size-fits-all approach. Trust your intuition, be respectful, and allow yourself the freedom to explore and grow. Deities are here to guide and support us, not to instill fear.

Feel free to reach out with any questions or share your experiences! We’re all here to learn and support each other on this spiritual path! Blessed be 🤍✨🕯️

-

-

Deity Work:

Deity work is more about forming a personal relationship or partnership with a deity. It can be less formal and more focused on mutual growth and learning. The aim is to collaborate with the deity for personal development, spiritual growth, or specific goals. Some common practices include:

meditation

journaling

divination

dreamwork

personalized offerings based on your interactions with the deity

Deity Worship:

Deity worship involves honoring and venerating a deity through rituals, offerings, prayers, and other acts of devotion. It's a more traditional and structured approach. The goal is to show respect, gratitude, and seek blessings or guidance from the deity. Common practices include:

creating altars

offering food, flowers, incense, etc.

reciting prayers

participating in festivals or holy days

Addressing Common Fears:

Fear of Doing Things Wrong:

Flexibility: Understand that deities are often more understanding than we think. Intentions matter more than rigid adherence to rituals. If you approach with respect and sincerity, minor mistakes are often forgiven.

Learning Process: It's okay to learn and grow. Many practitioners find their path through trial and error. Deities appreciate genuine effort and growth.

2. Fear of Negative Consequences:

Respect & Boundaries: As long as you approach deities with respect and maintain clear boundaries, negative consequences are rare. Communicate openly and honestly with the deity about your fears and intentions.

Protection Practices: Incorporate protection practices into your routine, such as grounding, shielding, or using protective crystals and herbs.

3. Choosing A Deity:

Research: Take your time to research and learn about different deities. Look for ones whose attributes and stories resonate with you.

Signs & Synchronicities: Pay attention to signs, dreams, and synchronicities that might indicate a deity is reaching out to you. Trust your intuition.

4. Fear of Commitment:

There's a misconception that once you start working with a deity, you're bound to them forever. In reality, relationships with deities can be fluid and adaptable. It's perfectly okay to take breaks, reassess your spiritual path, or even change directions entirely. Deities understand that your spiritual journey is personal and ever-evolving. They are there to support and guide you, not confine you. So, if you feel the need to step back or explore a different path, know that it's a natural part of your spiritual growth and development.

5. Fear of Judgement:

Many people fear being judged by others for their spiritual practices. It's important to remind them that their spiritual journey is deeply personal and unique to them. Everyone's path is different, and what feels right for one person may not resonate with another. Encouraging others to trust their intuition and follow what feels right for them, regardless of others' opinions, is crucial. Spirituality is about finding a connection that brings inner peace and fulfillment, and that can only be achieved by staying true to oneself. So, it's essential to prioritize personal beliefs and experiences over external judgement.

[m0chisenpai]

Hi, could you do a Louis x Fem!reader x Armand? Like something where they are both obsessed with her and maybe she a little oblivious even tho they give her what ever she wants. I love your others too by the way.🫶🏼

desires of the heart

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which she has two immortals wrapped around her little finger

Author note: this sounds similarish to a loumand fic I got previously so I’m gonna build onto that one

Time in the penthouse seems to move slower. The days and nights felt blurred from adjusting your schedule to the ‘vampires’ Daniel interviews. And with each passing day, more and more do the vampires find themselves falling deeper into your heart. It is your own fault for falling for a pair of supernatural fanatics, though now they have proved their inhumane nature.

You had their own dead ones in the palm of your hand yet you remained so oblivious to it.

You find yourself spending your time less in your room and more in their company as they begin to reach the end. Daniel mentions during one of your dinners together that he finds them to be stalling. Louis speaks slower, finds himself struggling to remember certain parts.

It irritates him, but as you sit across him barely touching your own meal Daniel ends his rushing.

“Those books, are the older ones right?” You watch Armand hover above in the collection looking for more pictures of Claudia for your personal “research”. In your spare time you’ve begun compiling information from her journals and diaries, looking for pictures to put a face to the voice of the woman trapped in a child’s body.

“Yes, some of these are beyond your time,” he looks down at you slowly allowing himself to settle in front of you. You push your frames back up the bridge of your nose so you can properly look at the elder vampire.

“Can I see them?”

Louis watches amused from his seat as Armand holds you close to show you the books. Slowly he glides back up with you in his arms following your direction till you pick a small stack to sit with Louis and look through.

These are older photographs from his years in New Orleans. Family pictures, pictures from his childhood.

"Aw what happened to the fro? That's the cutest baby afro I have seen!" you pout as Louis pulls a family picture out. And he rolls his eyes as you pull your phone to take a picture.

"Times were different," Louis rolls his eyes and you scoff at his vague response. You page through the album carefully with gloved hands as you look at the dearly cared aged photos.

"Is that him?" your eyes settle on a duo picture, him and his brother side by side. Louis can only nod, his lips pressed in a line as you stare. In the picture his brother stands behind him, hand on his shoulder. He remembers that day fondly. They bickered on what to wear and settle on a pair of their old father's suits. "He was handsome. Definitely a sweetheart, I can tell by how he's looking at you here in this one."

When you look up at you him, you smile "I see you take after him." Before Louis can respond one of the workers has entered. Interrupting your bubble of peace. "Mr.Molloy has requested you in his room ma'am."

Armand's face immediately ices over into a glare, his response fiery. "Tell Mr.Molloy if he wishes for his help to return he can come and get them himself. She is not a dog."

"It's alright, the old fart does this all the time in the office." You go to stand stretching your arms overhead and quickly rubbing your forearms for friction. You're cold, Louis observes the goosebumps across your freckled shoulders from the slouch neck sweater you wear.

When you are are out of ear shot Louis speaks to the worker.

"Have the shoppers come in tomorrow morning for Mr.Molloy's intern. The girl needs proper clothing. My companion will be there to assist further."

Much to Daniel's distaste. you are like a child in a candy shop pointing to sweaters from Ralph Lauren's upcoming fall collection. But he hides his distaste giving you a smile when you happily show him the sweater that was 'giving Rory Gilmore but I wear it better.' Armand sits watching as you soar through racks and picking your items of choice.

You hesitate when a woman approaches holding a cases of lenses, "we offer these in prescription of course."

"Oh no these are fine."

"Pick one." Armand finally speaks up. When you look at him he is now sitting up, but the way he sits with his legs crossed, an arm draped across the back while the other rests atop his knee. His eyes a show of dominance, as if daring you to say no to him.

You settle on a thick marbled brown pair. But he stands to move in front of you, picking up a few for you to try. You try on several till you are pushing his hands away.

"The jade green ones as well as the golden wired ones for her," you grumble watching as he picks up the two for the woman to box. "We will have your prescription sent as soon as possible."

"Thank you but, this a bit much for a few days stay."

"We have no issue providing you your comforts whilst you work on the novel."

"Ok but-"

He raises a brow that silences any opposition. When you offer no more pushback, Armand places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the women who begin to drape you in abayas and scarves for your hair.

Daniel can only huff and look back to his laptop.

'CLEARLY three idiots in love with one another. Female is too incompetent to discern vampires obsession, affections.' He underlines idiots smirking to himself as he scribbles more notes about the three of you down.

You're nearing the end of the interviews. You can tell cause they spend any bit of time of the days glued to your side. You don't bring it up, you accidentally mentioned it in passing to Louis and his entire demeanor once so warm and gentle became...rigid.

He didn’t speak to you that night, but Armand was there to placate your worries.

Louis sits beside you on the couch now. Watching you listen and take notes. One earbud while your hand stops and moves to write at the most random of moments.

He’s eerily still with the only movement behind his eyes watching and hearing every single thing.

These days he's more brazen in his affections. Sitting closer, allowing his hand to linger when he passes your chai, playing with the baby curls at the nape of your neck. But there is something even more intimate as he sits beside you, watching you.

"Gonna keep staring me down like a creep?"

His lips perk up, "sorry cher. Just memorizing your face."

Your fingers stop typing, your train of thought halts for a second till they both return at the steady pace you had going. You’ll give him that one, your heart did feel fuzzy. But you’ll be damned to cry.

"Can a vampire love?"

Louis shifts a bit in his seat tilting his head upward, you wonder if he is avoiding your gaze or truly in thought. "I believe we feel immensely. Everything feels...deeper. Almost too much if I am quite honest. I think that’s why so many of us choose the sleep. These feelings are magnified."

Now it’s your turn to look up. "But if your entire being is dead, what is it that allows you to feel again? Your heart no longer works, your brain must not function, or maybe it does. But you are dead. How can the dead feel?"

Ah, that mind of yours. Louis loved it deeply. His eyes flicker to his joined palms till they return on you.

"I've heard stories, seen elder vampires that lived many lifetimes take their life because of the loneliness. At times, I myself felt it. It’s the silence, but as I said before you feel it double, he’ll even triple than the loneliness you may feel at times. Had our feelings died with us, then I do not think they would put an end to themselves."

You nod, pausing for a moment again. To feel that much it’s scary. It must be even scarier to love. Falling in love now, heartbreak even feels like it takes over your whole body. But to feel that even more, how can anyone survive through that?

"I feel it too," you pause for a moment, "it's the worst." When Louis doesn’t respond, you blank your lack of sleep or the stress of work that leaves you open and vulnerable. “I don’t think I could survive it. Loving at least. It hurts and it’s always taking. Leaving you high and dry in the end. I don’t….i couldn’t handle that again.”

Though Louis respects your boundaries, he feels the buzz in your bones. He hears the tremor in your voice, sees the mist of tears sitting in your eyes. A desire sitting on your lips. “What do you need?” It comes out as a whisper, yet it feels so loud.

And your response is just as quiet, “can you…can you just hold me. Please, Louis.”

The laptop shut and atop the table, and he is holding you close. Your eyes slowly fall shut as you wrap your arms back around him. He pulls you atop him and you squeeze him back hiding your face in the nook of his shoulder.

He must be shushing you or speaking but you can’t hear it, all you can do is soak this in.

You feel complete again, so whole.

[dissapointu]

You write so fast omg 🫣 So I'm back with more ideas

Reader who has a terminal illness(Anguish??👀) , she is a doctor who tests herself and is responsible for finding several cures for people with diseases

She loves helping people since she can't help herself, a scenario with Viktor(come back home my love), Jayce, Silco and haimerdingers would be amazing <3

terminally ill doctor who helps others but struggles with her own illness. The characters Viktor, Jayce, Silco, and Heimerdinger

Viktor

Viktor had always admired your brilliance, your unyielding desire to save others despite your own condition. But lately, the look in your eyes had changed. There was a weight in your gaze, something that betrayed your struggle. He noticed the slight tremor in your hands when you reached for a vial of medicine or the way you would pause in the middle of a conversation, your breath catching, as if the Anguish was threatening to pull you under.

His heart ached for you, knowing you’d dedicated your life to saving others, finding cures, and yet the very thing you couldn’t cure was yourself. The guilt he felt for not being able to fix this—despite all his work in the field of science and technology—was unbearable.

One evening, as you sat hunched over your desk, surrounded by papers and vials, he entered the room quietly. “Come back to bed, my love,” Viktor whispered softly, his voice a balm to the storm in your chest. His words weren’t just an invitation to rest—they were a plea for you to let him take care of you for once.

He carefully approached, kneeling beside you and gently brushing a lock of hair from your forehead. “I know you don’t like to stop, but you’ve done so much. Let me help. Please, rest.” He reached for your hand, bringing it to his chest where his heart beat just a little faster than usual. “We’ll find a way to cure you, together. I promise.”

Jayce

Jayce had never been one to let anyone shoulder the burden alone. He admired your intelligence and dedication, but seeing you slowly fade, despite all your efforts, was a painful reminder of his own helplessness. He’d watched you push through your illness, continuing your research as if nothing had changed, always putting others before yourself.

“Why?” Jayce asked one day, his voice thick with frustration. “Why do you keep pushing yourself so hard when you know how much it’s costing you?”

You glanced at him, your tired eyes soft but filled with quiet resolve. “Because I can’t help myself,” you whispered. “But I can help them. And that’s enough.”

Jayce stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek gently. “It’s not enough, not if it means losing you. Please… we need you here with us.”

With a heavy sigh, Jayce wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his words muffled in your hair. “Come back to me, okay? Let me take care of you. Let me share your burden.” He held you like that, as if he could shield you from the world’s cruelty, even though he knew the weight of the situation.

Silco

Silco was a man of control, of power. He didn’t let weakness show, and he certainly didn’t allow himself to rely on anyone. But when it came to you, he was different. He could see the toll your illness was taking on you, and though he would never admit it outright, it terrified him. He couldn’t afford to lose you, not when you had become such an integral part of his life. Your brilliance had helped him in ways no one else could—fixing things, offering him solutions he could only dream of. But it hurt him to see the woman he cared for slipping away, even though you would never ask for his help.

One evening, when you collapsed into a chair, too weak to continue your work, Silco’s voice was low but intense as he approached. “You can’t keep doing this. Your research won’t matter if you’re gone.”

You looked up, and his piercing gaze softened, though only for a brief moment. “I’ll find a cure for myself, just as I’ve done for others,” you said, a determined yet fragile smile on your face.

“Let me help you,” Silco’s voice was quiet, almost as if the words pained him to say. He rarely asked for help, but for you, he’d make an exception. “You don’t have to carry this burden alone. It’s killing you, and I won’t let it take you from me.”

His usual coldness was replaced by something raw—vulnerable—and for a moment, you saw the man he truly was. You didn’t have to do this alone. Silco would ensure that.

Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger’s heart broke for you. He had always seen the potential in you, admired your intellect, but seeing you slowly weaken because of your condition was more than he could bear. He knew there was nothing he could do with his current knowledge to help you, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to try.

He often stayed up late with you, pouring over research, working through theories, hoping that somehow, together, you could find a way to fix this. But he knew the truth: even his vast knowledge of science couldn’t change the fact that you were slipping away. It was a cruel irony that someone so devoted to saving others was unable to save themselves.

One night, after a long day of research, he found you sitting quietly in your office, gazing out the window, exhausted and defeated. He quietly approached, his small hands trembling as he placed them on your shoulder.

“You’ve done so much for this world,” he said, his voice gentle and full of emotion. “I only wish I could do more for you. You’ve worked so hard, and I fear it has cost you everything. But there is still hope, as long as you’re with us. We will continue looking for a solution. Together.”

Heimerdinger paused, glancing at the papers on the desk before returning his gaze to you. “You don’t have to fight this alone.”

[endlessthxxghts]

Hungry

Frankie Morales x afab!reader | W/C: 1.7k

Summary: You decide to go home on your lunch break. You call to see if your boyfriend can join you.

Content/Warnings: No physical descriptions of reader. No “y/n”. Implied that Frankie and you live together. Porn with a sprinkle of plot. 18+ MDNI!! Oral sex (both receiving). Face riding turned 69…Cumming untouched (kind of?). Cum eating. Please do let me know if I missed anything!!!

A/N: HI GUYS I’VE MISSED YOU. I’m on my university campus from 9-5, and I had a particularly rough day, so I went home on my lunch break (which I normally don’t do), and instead of lunch, I did something else. This was that something else. I hope you enjoy.👹

MASTERLIST || NOTIFS BLOG

He picks up after one ring. “Baby? What’s wrong?” 

You don’t usually call him during your work day—the lab being too hectic even on your lunch break to enjoy anything other than the lunch you packed yourself. 

“Nothing, I just- I miss you,” you tell him softly. 

Today, though…Today is different. You’re exhausted and your other team members are also having a slow day, so you decide to call your boyfriend. You also decide that you deserve lunch off-site: in the comfort of your own home. 

“I miss you, querida,” Frankie says, returning your warmth and gentleness tenfold. 

Gods, his voice. The deep, softness of his voice never fails to make the butterflies flutter in your belly. And also… further below. You can’t help the next words that fall from your mouth. 

“I want you.”

Only then does he realize—you’re not at the lab. He doesn’t hear the hustle and bustle of research going on in the background, he doesn’t even hear the air conditioning that’s always blasting in the break room. He’s called you once while you were on site, and he learned his lesson then. So, seeing you call today prompted him to think there was an emergency. And in his realization—yes, this is very much an emergency, but not the one he was expecting. 

“You’re home, aren’t you?” He asks, really not needing the confirmation but obliges anyway. 

“Yeah,” you say breathily. 

“Do not go anywhere. Be there in ten, baby.”

“Make it five,” you whimper, ending the call, not wanting the formalities of a goodbye, too hung up on your dire need for him to handle hearing his voice without being able to touch him. 

Frankie does make it home in five—taking my forty-five! he calls out to his boss as he walks out with no time for extra conversation. Professionally, that really wouldn’t do, but luckily, he’s always been on the good side of his superior. 

“Querida!” He calls out as he enters the front door. 

As soon as he’s through the door, you’re on him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he drops the keys in his hands to fully engulf you. The kiss is needy, desperate. You can’t help the moans already falling from your lips, and he’s just as eager to swallow them up. You do a mini jump, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he walks you two to your shared bedroom.

As he nears the edge of the bed, you untangle your legs from around him so he can sit down. But as soon as he’s hitting the bed, you’re straddling him once again, licking into his mouth as you grasp at the nape of his neck, your needy center grinding into his hard length. 

Frankie’s lips break from yours, trailing kisses down your jaw, passing your chin, and settling on your neck, nipping and sucking the sweet spots that always have your hips bucking wildly into him, begging for more. He can feel the heat radiating from your center, his cock leaking at the sensation.

However, neither of you really have much time before you need to return to your respective jobs, and Frankie simply needs to eat. 

His fingers meet the hem of your bottoms, pulling them down as you move your body around, allowing them to come down with ease. 

Frankie starts leaning back, his hands trailing back to the meat of your thighs, grabbing them tightly and nudging you up his torso. 

“F-Frankie, what-” you stutter, breathless and mind hazy from your makeout session. 

You’re on your knees now, situated above his shoulders, your gaze looking down into his. “Sit,” is all he tells you. 

“Frankie… we’re both on a clock here,” your voice waivers. Hesitant. When Frankie eats you out, he eats, and most of the time, he’ll continue out of his own pleasure well after however many orgasms he pulls out of you in this way.

“Just gonna make you cum, querida, promise,” he smirks, mischief written all over his face.

Without another word, he grabs your thighs, and forces your entire weight onto him, your thighs immediately clenching in the feeling as his tongue glides through your soaked folds. “Oh- Fuck,” you gasp, the pleasure hitting you all at once. 

You can feel his smirk as your breathing grows heavier and your hips start to move on their own. Realizing what your body’s asking for, Frankie lifts you off of him and urges you to turn around. You don’t understand what for until his hands are guiding yours to grip onto his waist—your torso leaning forward at the movement. 

Oh. 

Oh, you like this. A lot. 

In this angle, your pelvis opens up more for him, and you have more support to be able to freely grind against his face. This was Frankie’s main reason for repositioning you, but he didn’t realize what he just did. You now have complete access to the part of him that’s been throbbing for your attention. 

Slowly, you let one of your hands glide upwards to his belt, the twang of his belt buckle making your mouth drool in response. Frankie pulls away momentarily. “What- what are you doing?” He asks, voice hoarse and utterly aroused at what you’re about to do. 

You smile to yourself at his question. “Just keep eating, baby,” you say, pushing your sex back into his face, his nose nudging a particularly sensitive spot making you moan at the contact. You can feel the way he groans into you, the vibrations sending more slick for him to greedily drink up. 

You finally get his cock free from the restraining khakis, and your pussy flutters at the view. He’s painfully hard, his tip red and precum all over. You put him into your mouth, swirling the head with your tongue to collect everything he’s giving you. You lift off him with a pop, a moan and a so fucking good leaving your mouth before you spit on him—watching his cock twitch as your drool drips down his length. 

You pump his cock a few times to spread the mixture of your spit and his precum down his length. Satisfied, you take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue, pushing him as far back as you possibly can. Your gag reflex triggers then, your throat constricting around where he’s most sensitive, and he whimpers at the feeling, momentarily pausing his attention on you.

Using your gag to your advantage, you don’t stop bobbing up and down on his length, the sloppiness of it all sending him into a horny spiral. He loves having his mouth on you, but the feel of your mouth on him has his eyes rolling back to his head, his tongue slowing in his strokes as his body buzzes in the pleasure you’re giving him. His hips start fucking up into your mouth, and you moan around him, getting spurred on at his desperation. 

“F-fuck-” he grunts. “Taking me- fuck- taking me so fucking good,” Frankie sighs, head falling back into the mattress. You almost made him forget his task at hand—which you genuinely wouldn’t mind because he’s always putting your pleasure first—but as soon as the fact hits him, oh, he’s going in. 

Frankie grabs onto your waist, forcing your entire center flush against his face as he brings your clit to his mouth, sucking and nipping at it with a calculated intensity—the feeling radiating up your spine and down into your toes—hurtling you towards your orgasm within seconds. His cock slips from your mouth at his action, but right now, you really can’t think about anything else. 

“Oh, yes, Frankie-” you gasp, “fuck, I’m gon- I’m gonna cum, please,” you whine, your cunt grinding wildly into his face. 

“Mmmm,” he grunts. Cum for me, querida, you know he’s telling you. 

Your orgasm is blinding, eyes clamped shut as your mouth mindlessly babbles praises to the man underneath you. “Oh my- oh fuck, you’re so-” you pant, unable to catch your breath at the intensity. “Good God, Frankie,” you whine.

Although you stopped paying attention to his thick member, the way your body convulses above him sends him to his own edge, cum shooting out and landing across his lower tummy, nearly half a centimeter away from splashing your face. You don’t realize this until after your breathing has slowed, your eyes finally peeling open and peering at the pooling milky liquid near his belly button. 

As much as you can in your exhausted state, you pull your head up and dart your tongue out, coating every part of your tongue with his cum, a squeaky little sigh escaping you at the taste of his salty musk. 

“Christ, baby,” you hear him mutter when he feels your tongue tickling across his surface. 

You untangle yourself from his body, repositioning so your head is in alignment with his. “That was fun,” you say casually before pressing a lengthy kiss to his lips, tongue sneaking into his mouth, exchanging each other’s flavor. 

“Yeah? Wanna go for round two?” Frankie asks, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Frankie!” You scold, slapping his chest. “We’re on a lunch break—no, we can’t go for round two!” 

He pouts at you, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you into one more kiss before you both have to leave again. As if your colleagues are watching you, both yours and his phone ring right as your lips begin to touch. 

Jumping off the bed, you ignore your bottoms on the floor and run straight to your phone, answering it with your last name. 

“Hey. No rush, but when do you think you’ll be back? Dr. Mowak is ready for your report if you are,” your lab assistant tells you. 

Oh, fuck. 

“Hey, yeah, I’m on my way back now, I accidentally caught up with a last minute… emergency,” you say, a little awkwardly. 

You hear a soft chuckle behind you. You turn around to see Frankie with a boyish grin, winking at you. 

You roll your eyes at him, but the butterflies flutter all the same. 

Or maybe it’s your stomach growling. 

Shit, you’re hungry. 

If you’d like to see more, check out my masterlist or follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to be updated on my new stories!! Much love to you all, thank you so much for reading and interacting with my silly little delusional self. 🫶🏼🫶🏼

@pedrostories