#i have a lot of things in my head abt her

[bootycallin]

uhhhh i saw something and i. cw: fingering and that’s it. basically backshots but no dick or strap just her fingers. cursing?? idk. not proofread my clitoris did the thinking and i just put it on a spreadsheet.

a/n: ughhh i know that im supposed to write for jinx but i cant stop thinking abt this mf. wasian masc save me

just thinking about riding mizu’s fingers. so fucking long, slender, but reaching the deepest places inside you with such ease. it’s easy for her to slam her fingers in, width accommodating comfortably inside you while her fingertips nearly kiss your cervix.

mizu never did understand your fixation for her hands. frankly, you didn’t either. they’re just hands—something she thought was quite unattractive in herself, actually. scarred and calloused from years of sword fighting and working with metals, she believed you hated the rough texture on the pads of her palm, the slightly raspy feeling of her fingertips from so many years or wielding a katana, eating at the layers of skin.

though, you don’t even have to tell her—she knows you love her fingers. maybe even more than her strap no matter how big and how deep she reaches. her self-confidence has gone up significantly because of you, because of moments like this. and quickly, her favorite thing has become watching you bounce back against her hand as she fingers you.

blue eyes watch with laser-focus, fixated on the back of your head. you can practically hear her gears churning, every calculated curl of her fingers inside your heat, seeking to make you cry out and send your eyes rolling to the back of your head. like a dumb slut, and nothing else. her dumb slut.

you can feel her so deep. her fingers are longer than yours are, by a long shot—not even you can masturbate and make yourself feel this good. the way the pads of her fingers press into that little spongy spot you always seem to miss on yourself, forcing the slightest pressure on your bladder, whimpers snd cries filled from your throat like taking candy from a baby. slamming in restlessly, her hands don’t tire, skillful from hears of her craft like she’d studied exactly this.

in fact, she has. she has studied you. and she knows what makes you tick—read; cum.

“does that feel good?” it’s a rhetorical question from the woman behind you. you know she knows, and she knows you know she knows. she’s not expecting an answer, just the same strangled noise signaling your pleasure.

“mizu,” you moan, jaw hanging slack from the constant noise of ‘ah, aah’ and begging and whatever else comes from you, noises completely involuntary. she’s not even doing a lot of work. your hips move on their on as she just curls them in and out, thrusting cloyingly gently into you into you. in return, you thrust back against her, back arched similarly to a cat’s, seeking more of the stimulation she provided.

“easy,” she mutters. she can feel you getting desperate, clenching together against her fingers with each trust, each press into your g-spot. your shoulders are trembling, head hanging low, moans growing more and more whiny by the second. your bouncing on her fingers just gets more desperate, and she barely even does anything. just lets you ride her fingers like a toy.

“easy. there you go,” her free hand is on your waist, gently steadying you. she doesn’t try to control your movements or anything, as much as she aches to prolong your orgasm just to see you cry and beg. she’s mean, but she’s not cruel. and she can be nice.

“good. so good, that’s it,” praised mizu, tenderly, thumb brushing patterns against the soft flesh of your back. she was leaning forward so she almost hugged you from behind, peppering kissed down your spine between your shoulder blades.

“that’s it. good girl. go on.”

the words that spilled from her lips only urged you to continue, quicker, though your legs quivered and your lungs burned from panting. you were almost there, you could feel it, the edge of the cliff just waiting for you to fall off. but, the journey to said edge just grows more and more frustrating and overwhelming. you can feel it, but your body is giving out.

“no, no— please, shit, mizu—“ you begged.

“language.” a short smack sounds in the (mostly) quiet room, resulted from her softly spanking your ass at your words. it just makes you cry louder. big baby, she thinks. not that she’s complaining. it’s cute, seeing you get so desperate.

“don’t tell me you’re getting tired,” teasingly sweet, nearly condescending. the amusement’s tangible in her voice that reverberates down your spine and you know where else too.

“you haven’t even cum yet baby,” punctuated by a particularly mean curl of her fingers, your back arched, fingers desperately clawing at the bedsheets to try and stabilize yourself. desperately chasing the high that vets closer and closer, knot in your stomach tightening exponentially—but your thighs are trembling, body shaking.

"please, mizu!" you cried. you couldn't anymore— overstimulated yet not enough to cum, tired and dumb and sensitive. you can practically feel the smile on her lips as she hums, kissing the back of your neck.

"what is it, baby?" the honeyed voice behind you asks, "you need some help, hm?"

"yes!"

your thighs give out under you before you can even finish. you're barely holding yourself up. hot tears running down your red cheeks, screwed shut while you clench uselessly around her.

"please, please, please— so close, please, mizu, fuck me, please—"

and, oh, how can she deny such a sweet thing?

mizu's calloused palm finds itself between your shoulder blades, pushing you down into the bed. she sits up on her haunces right behind you, hand in the same position her strap would be—as if she needed that. no warning, but precedented; because why wouldn't she? she slams her fingers into your cunt, barely even giving you time to adjust as she takes a relentless pace, fingertips pushing into your cervix with each thrust. she relishes in your needy moans and cries, the way you bury your face into the bed to try and quiet yourself. your poor, abused cunt clamping tightly around her digits, warm walls saturated with the evidence of the incoming wave of pleasure right about to hit.

"good girl," she praised, saccharine words bringing you closer and closer and closer to your orgasm. good girl. good girl. that's it, that's it, just let go for me, baby. that's it. good—

it's just one of those nights.

[hinamie]

10 years later

[2leggedshark]

I have so many thoughts that I genuinely cannot express with words. At least with my. Current ability of speaking and explaining stuff. It is impossible to say so many things.

[wilting-fl0wer]

The only correct form of caltam, as far as i am concerned

[randomminty]

Yippee

[arolesbianism]

May I offer some Siffrins on this fine day

[orokay]

everyone clap!!!!!!!!

[maraschinotopped]

ive been staring at the naqtube channel page just doing analysis thoughts in my head for like 15 minutes and ive just been hit with the realization that Damn this is not normal. normal people dont do this. either the mental illness or the mild sickness is doing something to me right now.

[gloriousmonsters]

sometimes i'm like. am i actually a narcissist? just for a moment. then i remember that from the ages of like 12-19 i eschewed all other photographs or more normal forms of decoration to keep a framed photo of myself on either my desk or my bedside table where i could look at it constantly. cuz i thought i looked cute and confident and no it did not occur to me i might like to have a photo of like, a family member or some cool trees or something i just took like 7 years to go huh wait other people don't keep a photograph of themselves on their desks? what do you do when you want to look at yourself go all the way to a mirror??? anyway it wasn't realizing this was unusual that made me stop the photo just got water damage

[billdenbrough]

caroljess + stardust

microfic monday

CAROL/JESS • marvel • STARDUST

saz sent in caroljess and i immediately started thinking about carol as a cosmic entity and jess, while super, as a largely grounded kinda hero. then i started thinking about carol’s memories and getting sad again and then i was just wailing over them in general and this happened lmao

[lawva-girl]

ppl talking about itazawa on tiktok are making me angry... but not that much

how can you be so mean abt ships... not to mention itazawa has barely any flesh to it, their chara developtment together is so minimal when you look at almost any other ship in the manga...

i am a hater, but not to the point where ill harass and generalize ppl..

lots of itazawa fans seem so homophobic tbh, and it sucks cause that episode with itadori and ozawa is so cute and i reall resonated with how ozawa felt, but i dont think they had chemistry or like feelings past high school for eachother.

it doesnt matter but i love to yap

[menlove]

every time i am around older queer people the more i am convinced i was meant to be an older queer person. not bc i have this fantasy of living in decades past that were much worse but bc i get along with and agree w them so much better. so much of modern queer discourse is painfully white, binary, and completely regressive while painting itself as revolutionary and i just want to crack jokes w some cool older butch lesbians every time i encounter discourse that makes me want to bash my head into the wall

[1hyunjae]

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

hang on are cougars like panthers

[vicontheinternet]

I’ve come to notice that we can’t have a show/movie that doesn’t center whiteness in some way mainstream or not because white ppl can’t picture themselves in characters that aren’t white while that’s all we had to do