#i looooove when he has the long hair and slicks it back

[chadleys]

the nasty things i’d let long haired Will do to me 🥵 he looks good all the time obvs but i just love his long hair, imagine pulling on it lightly

bruuuhhhh will with his long hair slicked back is a whole ass mood.

imagine tugging a little on those gorgeous locks, which earns you a hiss and a sly smile. will leans in, puts his lips at your ear even as you continue to pet your fingers through his hair. ❝ keep doing that and i can't be held responsible for what i do to you later, baby. ❞

[mxvladdy]

Hi! just finished reading your Tumblr request on AO3 and I just looooove your writing ;; if it's not a problem I wanted to ask how you imagine that Lucifer, Mammon and Beel would react to a MC who is usually very quiet and not very expressive, impossible to embarrass or make nervous, to suddenly, one day manage to make her blush for the first time (Also, English is not my first language, so I hope this is okey) I wish you a lovely week ❤

A/N: This is adorable! Sorry for the slow turn around, I hope you enjoy!❤

Lucifer

Stoicism is something he normally finds very attractive in a woman. To be able to keep such a level of calm outlook during even times that might even shake him. He loves the idea of a power couple, and the way you hold yourself. You definitely make one.

It does grate him that he can’t fluster you like you do him, especially during your time together in private. He tries multiple ways to even just draw some color to your cheeks. Flowers in the classroom, hand written invitations to private dining establishments and venues, he even went to the human realm just to find some kind of familiar comfort to give to you. You love them all he knows but he wants, craves to see an uninhibited reaction from you. He’ll get it one day, his pride depends on it at this point.

Luck graces him one evening after a hellish work day. A fight in the school yard leading to property damage he had to do extra paper work for. The only saving grace of that was it wasn’t one of his brothers, this time. Only followed soon after by a report of yet another racket engineered by Mammon. Then, to top off a horrible day one of Belphie and Satan’s little “pranks” blew up half his office.

All his loose or unprotected paperwork, gone. Nothing but smoldering bits of ash. He was now more than ever thankful to have you by his side. Before he could get his hands on the two you stepped in shooing him away to deal with the other fires that needed to be put out while you handled his office.

Things got done, in record time for once. He was able to rewrite his notes for the next council meeting, but at the cost of your weekday dinner together. A pity, but he knew you understood. Trudging up to his room he looked forward to perhaps a few hours of sleep before the next crisis struck. Then he found you.

He chuckles to himself quietly leaning against his door frame. You had beaten him to his favorite resting roost. You sat on his favorite armchair, rolled up tight in his comforter. All he could see was a tuft of hair and the very tip of your nose. Beautiful as always, but he wanted to rest. Well-two birds, one stone and all…

He scoops you up envious of how deeply you could slumber and places you on his lap. Kicking off his shoes he sighs blissfully before resting his head back on worn leather.

Mini fic

You didn’t expect to see Lucifer tonight. Today has been the absolute definition of a shit show, on nights like these it wasn’t uncommon for you not to see him at all. You would normally place your bets on him being unconscious at his desk. Though, he couldn’t really do that tonight. You pat yourself on the back mentally knowing that he would be pleased with the work you and the brothers did cleaning up his office. While you couldn’t get them to apologize to Lucifer you at least got them to clean up what was salvageable in his study.

After a few hours of cleaning his office was back in working order and your feet were screaming for a break. Bidding the two miscreants farewell and making them promise to hold off on the pranks for at least a week you let your body lead you to Lucifer’s room. The room was how you left it that morning. Your slippers next to his by the door and your robe tossed haphazardly on his linen sheets. You make a beeline for the only piece of furniture Lucifer loved dearly. How many nights had you snuck in only to see him melting into the old chain. His long legs sprawled out and tangled in his foot rest, while his body sinks into the imprints he has left from years of use like a lover's embrace.

Yanking the thin comforter from his bed you curl into the divots with a yawn. Before you know it your eyes close and the crackling of the fireplace lulls you to sleep. You awake with a jolt, confused and disoriented for a moment before your sleepy brain catches up. You fell asleep alone on the soft leather but woke to something unyielding beneath you now.

Lucifer sits underneath you snoring softly. His arms rest around your blanketed body. His head tilts down over you, his nose tickling your hairline. Like always he sports a mild look of annoyance. His lips were drawn in a scowl, brows crinkling in displease. You could tell his jaw was tense even while he slept.

Freeing your arms from your cocoon you reach up from him moving to cup his twitching jaw. With practiced ease you began to message the pin joints. You smile to yourself moving down to his tense neck and shoulders. This had become a nightly ritual for you when you shared a bed. When you knew he was asleep you would start trying to work away some of his tension from the previous day. You swear in the morning that he looks better on the nights you get the chance to.

This was your little secret though. You couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing you did this. Not that you thought he would disapprove. Lucifer appreciated acts of service, but just the thought of him knowing made your whole body heat in a flush. You push the thoughts away focusing instead on the extremely tight muscles underneath his brow line. It amazed you that he didn’t have any wrinkles after all this.

So engrossed in your perusal of his features you didn’t notice him stirring till his warm palm traps your hand to his cheek. Before you realize it his lips push a firm kiss into the flesh of your palm. Scarlet eyes meet yours crinkling around the edges. They were warm and radiant. “You’re blushing.” His voice was deep and husky from what little sleep he got.

“What?” You stammer.

Lucifer leans in tapping his forehead on yours. He studies your wide eyes and pink face for a moment before cracking a smug grin. “I’ve never seen you flustered before. Your blush looks good on you.”

“You caught me off guard.” He nods, kissing the tip of your nose tenderly taking impish glee in your squirming.

“Good-I will strive to do so more often. I wish to see you as undone as you make me.”

Mammon

Stoic MC? Rare pair? Rare pair. Mammon wears his heart on his sleeve. Nothing about him is slick. From week one everyone knew he had it bad for you. He is so open with his affections whether he likes it or not. Unlike you.

Honestly, how were you always so controlled. Ain’t the dame supposed to be all blushy and giggly too? It-it makes him think he isn’t doing something right. Is he not treating you right? Were you unhappy?

So he goes to do what he does best. Scheme. There has to be someway to crack that stoic disposition of yours. He gets clingy-well clingier now. He starts springing random vacations on you. Expect to skip class whenever he thinks he won’t get skinned alive for it.

He’ll take you anywhere all his internet research tells him to. Black sand beaches, crowded boardwalks to see the lights, deserted hiking trails late in the evening to watch the fireflies. He is sure it will work. But nope, nada. You love every moment of it and show him with a soul searing kiss and sweet words of praise. But damn you if you aren’t always so cool about it.

He is about to throw in the towel when he finally gets what he wants. At work no less. It was completely by accident but he isn’t one to complain. Perhaps he should go to work more often.

Mini Fic

“Pucker up!” Mammon’s make-up artist orders, squeezing his cheeks between her thumb and forefinger. “And for Diavolo’s sake put your phone down.”

“Shove off Cazzin.” Mammon sputters around the sour tasting lip stain and plumper. His eyes still glued to his screen. His freshly done nails swiping at picture after picture of fancy hotels and spas. Just thinking about taking you a private spring got his blood boiling in the best ways.

“Woooow.” Cazz whistles through her fangs looking at his screen. “Who is the lucky lady you are trying to impress this time?

“Mammon bristles, shooting her a murderous glance. The smaller demon blanches, purple skin turning ashy with fear. Her eyes drop to the floor immediately in submission, a sincere apology falling from her lips. “My girlfriend.” He says finally after cooling down. “I’m-I’m trying to impress her or something.”

“Well, pretty sure with a price tag like that anyone would be impressed.” Mammon only grunts barely glancing at the excessive amount of zeros on the page. Any other girl he knew would be a blushing mess after getting a gift like this. Hells, even Cazz was eyeing the site with open envy and excitement. Yet, this wasn’t the first time he had done something like this with you. Every time he did all he got was a blisteringly radiant smile and kisses that probably could send him back to heaven if he didn’t have a life long ban there. Not that that was a bad thing...but he just wanted more.

“You would think so…” He trails off clicking his phone off to focus on the rest of his routine. No sooner had his hair and make-up artist finished then his director was stomping and shouting down the hall for him to get his ass on set. Grimacing Mammon slides off his seat stretching to spare himself a few more seconds of peace. He stops at the door taking one last look at his get up for this shoot.

Damn, he looks good. It was time for a new spring collection, but more importantly, his most popular season. The light spring colors always brought out his best features. The pastel cotton shirt they “fashionably” threw him in hung casually around his frame. Buttons “tastefully” undone to show the smooth planes of his freely waxed and oiled skin. The linen board shorts and finishing touch of leather sandals gave him the perfect beach vibe. At top dollar mind you.

Hmmm-perhaps he could borrow this outfit for your next beach outing.

Unable to tone out his bosses shouting anymore Mammon makes his way to set. He thinks hard on what else he can go or take you to impress you, ignoring the poking and prodding of his camera men and set designers. His partners today, two incubus twins stood sourly next to him. They had been at this for hours and even he was ready for a break from the sweltering heat of the lights.

“Alright! Alright!” The director broke an hour later tired of the twins whining. He throws his hands in the air in exasperation. “We’ll break for an hour for lunch- lost the light as is.” He huffs stumping off for a smoke break.

“Finally,” Mammon sighs from his pose on the ground. “Think I got sand in my ass.” He gets up from the ground grimacing as he tries to brush the grit off his legs. “Shit starts to burn when they get hot.” One of the twins nods looking down at their own arms. Tiny burn marks showing on their fair skin, they will heal by the time the shoot resumes, doesn’t mean they will be happy about it.

“Want to grab lunch?” The twins ask tossing him a towel to blot at his sweating brow. “New food truck is coming in today.” Mammon shakes his head. You had packed him something to eat this morning and he kind of wanted to enjoy it in peace for once.

Waving the two off he hurries back to his room already salivating at whatever tasty food you got him. Halfway to the door he stops, the fine hairs on his neck standing up. Someone was in his dressing room. Devil’s please don’t let it be another rabid fan. He pleads before creeping forward to check. Whoever it was left the door ajar, peaking in he stares enraptured.

When did you get here? It wasn’t abnormal for you to just drop by while he was working, but you usually waited for him on set behind the cameras. You sit humming to yourself reading something on your lap, feet kicking out innocently while you wait for him. Flipping a page he gets a glimpse of what you’re reading. His feathers ruffle in satisfaction. He had plans on showing you these shots before their release date. They still needed approval from his director but he knew they were great. You flip through shot after shot humming or nodding at some. One shot makes you stop fully, eyes growing wide.

Mammon snorts to himself, knowing exactly which photo you stopped on. The next issue was focusing on “Elegance in the work space”, whatever that means. His designer for the projects went a little overboard with the cuts and designs of the business suites he was to model. The sketches and drafts she had thrust at him had made his head spin. They were all amazing in his opinion, but one had been killer, everyone had agreed on that. If he didn’t know any better he was certain that it would put him on the cover. By the way you were looking at it, he was hoping it would.

That suit really complimented all of his features. It was form fitting accenting his slim waist but hid the slight sloping of his shoulders. The gold of the threading of his vest was done up in soft floral patterns that popped against the dark navy blue of the suit's fabric. The dark blue really brought out the lightness of his eyes. The look was topped off with a bright yellow silk pocket square, polished leather wingtips and gold cufflinks. He was about to interrupt you when he saw it, that one thing he wanted more than anything.

The pink starts at your ears swiping across the bridge of your nose before blooming on your round cheeks. It was breathtaking. Thinking he was being sneaky, Mammon whips out his phone for a quick picture, no one would believe him unless he had solid evidence. But the flash gives him away.

“Mammon!” You jump caught, hands flying to cover your warm face.

“Oi! None of that!” Mammon moves quickly snatching your hands away from your face beaming. “I’ve been waiting for ages to see this face on ya, an’ all it took was a picture of me?”

“You- you clean up really nicely, Mammon.” His hearts flutter at your soft admission.

“Huh,” Mammon scratches his neck, feeling his own blush coming forth. “Well- I mean I could do that more often, so long as you keep looking at me like this when I do.” He picks up the stack of photos from the floor where you dropped them in surprise. “Ya know- I still got that suit.”

Your face turns molten- oh he was going to have a field day with this.

Beelzebub

Doesn’t even notice at first. He is kind of the same way with expressing himself too- unless food is involved. So if you are content then he is content, so who cares if you don’t show it on your face?

Well- he didn’t care, until Belphie brought it up. His twin didn’t mean anything by it; he knew that, but it made him wonder. He trusts you when you say you are happy, you have no reason to lie to him. But date nights, game nights, and family dinners you were always so impassive.

It makes him wonder, not enough to ask you though. Truthfully, he is a little embarrassed that he can’t read you as you do him. He won’t force it like his brothers might. He is patient and hopes one day it will just come naturally like it does for him around you.

Mini Fic

Beel watches you over his lunch. You two were silent as you ate, but that was to be expected on days like these. The school cafe was packed with students all jockeying to get a place in line for today’s special. He had gotten there early for the both of you to gap a few of the specials and sides before they were gone. “Are you ok?” He puts his fork down leaning in close to speak to you across the small table. It creaks dangerously under the weight of his elbows on it. You look up from your tea mug. He smiles at your perpetually mild expression, your eyes were hard but your lips and brows were relaxed giving away nothing.

“Of course.” You smile up at him, face smooth and controlled. “Just excited about tonight.”

Hmph, could have fooled him. Beel leans back, studying you intently. He hopes you were as excited as he was for tonight. A new arcade had opened on the edge of town last week and he thought it would be a great date night for the two of you. He had expressed to you on several occasions how he was looking forward to the roller rink and the hoop games. You seemed eager, giving him a closed lip grin every time he brought it up. “Me too.” Beel says finally turning back to his food. “Think we will win any prizes?”

You snort dismissively. “Us? The dream team? I would be surprised if we didn’t win something. Have you seen the plushies?” You pull out your phone and show him their Devilgram. “I want to try and get the hydra one…” You prattle on and scroll through all the cute prizes on their site. He nods along taking a mental note of all the ones that you pointed at, determined to get each and every one for you.

School goes by quickly, far too quickly for him. Each tick of the clock caught him by surprise, jacking his nerves up more and more. It wasn’t like it was his first date with you, but it never stopped the butterflies from starting in his stomach. After school he changes quickly and waits for you by your bedroom door. He fiddles with the zipper of his jacket until you finally open your door.

“Ready?” The smile you throw up at him is breathtaking. “Hope you don’t mind my get up. You mentioned a roller ring so I figured something sporty and functional would be appropriate.” You kick out a leg waving a hand over your bright sport leggings.

Beel chuckles offering you his large hand. “You look adorable as always.”

Being with you was as easy as breathing to him now. After all your time together in the house getting to know you you became one of his closest friends, even before you started dating. You shared many of his interests and wasn’t afraid to argue your point if you saw fit. You fill the train ride to the arcade with idle chatter, goofy selfies to send to his siblings, and annoying the other passengers with your ill-contained chuckles.

The place itself was packed but well spread out to handle the massive throngs of demons and beasts coming for drinks and a good time. “Come on!” You shout over the other very drunk and very loud customers tugging at his sleeve. “Let’s get some coins and find an empty station.” He lets you lead. You take full advantage of his impressive frame to part the crowds around you as you hunt for a free spot. “See anything?”

Beel peers over the heads of most of the demons and looks out. In the far corner sat a few jump rope games that were free. “Stay close.” He murmurs in your ear wrapping a protective arm your shoulders so you wouldn’t be swept away in the flow of the crowd. The games were...hard. Mentally Beel kicks himself. Of course an arcade in the Devildom wouldn’t be geared for humans. They were built for demons' fast reflexes and inhuman strength. You were a good sport about it though, cheering him on when the games began to move too fast for your senses. If a game broke in his zeal to get you tickets, well you were both fast walkers.

“Think we have enough?” Beelzebub asks hours later around a popsicle. His jacket pockets bulge with multicolored tickets screaming to be spent.

You hum around a scoop of ice cream. “Possibly-” Your eyes flick to the prize booth. “And extra, you want a plushie too?” He shrugs. No doubt the moment it got into his room Belphie will steal it to add to his horde.

You end up getting your stuffed hydra and a giant fuzzy minotaur to keep it “company”. You clutch them close to your chest, seemingly happy with your bounties. After that you spend a bit at the roller ring before you finally had to call it a night. Exhausted you lag behind Beel as you make your way back to the train station, feet dragging with each step.

Wordlessly, Beel stops just in front of you. “Here,” He squats, offering you his back, arms stretched out behind him. “I can take us the rest of the way to the stop.” He feels you hesitate for a moment before climbing on to his back.

“Thank you.” He thinks nothing of how soft your voice was, just barely a tickle at the base of his neck. Beel treks one once you are secure, stuffing his hands in his pockets to lock you in place. The rest of the walk was quiet but he didn’t mind it, your warm body and soft breathing in his ear was a comfort.

He stops at the benches with a few minutes to spare before your train. “We are here. Do you want-” He gasps quietly, cutting himself off before he could accidentally wake you. You sleep on unperturbed by his voice. Your hold on around his neck was tight, your head buried in his neck.

It seems only when you're sleeping do you let your guard down. A blush sweeps across your face, your lips pulled up into a serene smile. You looked-happy. Happy in a way he never saw before. He won’t say anything about it, he decides. He’ll cherish this tiny expression all the same. Perhaps one day he’ll see when you're awake too.

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

Shinsou NSFW Alphabet.

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

Laaaaazy, very very lazy and just wants to relax. At most, Shinsou will reach over to the paper towels he brought in advance so he can clean you both up quickly and get back to lounging around. Laying in cum is not ideal and he knows it. If you hold him close and stay quiet, he will drift off into sleep.

B = Body Parts (Which of their own body parts is their favorite? Which of s/o’s body parts is their favorite? Which of their body parts is s/o’s favorite?)

Shinsou likes his hands. They are big and calloused from training, which you have said feels really nice on your sensitive skin. Not to mention his fingers are thick, which is optimal for stretching out your tight pussy and stroking spots deep inside you that you could never hope to reach. 

His favorite part of your body is your neck. In combination with your clavicles, it’s very graceful and beautiful to him. He loves exploring all of your sensitive areas and making you giggle. And he won’t admit it, but Shinsou has a bit of a possessive streak, so he can’t help giving you a hickey once in a while, admiring the way it peeks out from the edge of your shirt collar. Sometimes he will keep his hand at the nape of your neck and stroke you like a kitten. 

Your favorite body part of his is whatever you want to imagine! He has lovely hands, as stated, and he is tall and lean and muscular, although not overly so. Got a very nice pert butt from training, too.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum.)

Shinsou has two particular favorite scenarios regarding his cum — one in which he finishes in your mouth and makes you open up to show him the milky substance coating your tongue, and one in which he comes inside you and pushes your pussy lips apart to see it run down your folds because there was simply too much to be contained. 

D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs.)

He wants to tie you up in his bandages and use his quirk on you. The former is something he is far more willing to admit. The latter makes him feel dirty and ashamed of himself. He has always prided himself on using his quirk strictly for good, but he thinks that using it in a sexual situation would be too self-serving. You would need to talk it out with him in advance and ease him into the idea. He thinks about it from time to time, when you have a blissed out expression on your face while he’s fucking you hard and deep. He imagines you so willing and pliant to his demands, like a cute little doll that he can use for his pleasure. Shinsou wants you to feel good, too, of course. That’s why you will have to work with him to figure out what your boundaries are before delving into this kink.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? How competent are they sexually?)

You are his first, and in his eyes, hopefully the only. He would never be intimate with someone he doesn’t care about. And because he is so hopelessly in love with you, he makes your pleasure a priority. Shinsou becomes very proficient in sex relatively quickly. It certainly helps that he is observant and patient in everything he does.

F = Favorite Position (What’s their favorite sexual position to be in, or to have s/o in?)

When he is dominant, he likes to see your face and feel as much of you as he can. He enjoys having your arms wrapped around him and raking your nails down his back as he fucks you, and he likes having your legs thrown over his shoulders so he can get deeper into you. When he is tired and easygoing, he very much enjoys you on top of him. He can let you set the pace and lay back while you bounce on his cock, and he likes the fact that he can grab your hips at any time and surprise you with an upward thrust that makes you let out the cutest sounds.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious or humorous during sex?)

Typically more serious, but he definitely intersperses flirty teasing in between all the seriousness. Sex always starts off with Shinsou flustering you in whatever way he can, and slowly progresses to him becoming undone by how good you feel wrapped around his cock. By the end of it, he is deep in his feelings (and in you) because he’s just so happy to have you and love you like this, and the teasing is typically replaced with either dirty talk or romantic confessions.

H = Hair (What’s their pubic hair like? How do they prefer s/o’s pubic hair? Do they have any specific fetishes or desires involving hair?)

Shinsou trims his bush and keeps himself looking nice and fresh. He prefers you to keep your area neat or shaved. Can’t see him as having a fetish for anything involving hair. 

I = Intimacy (How intimate and romantic are they during sex?)

Intimate and romantic, although not overtly so! Perhaps more so intimate, because even when he is being rough and dirty, you can always feel the undercurrent of love. He caresses you, strokes your hair, gives you slow, deep kisses, holds you close when he is about to cum, calls you all sorts of sweet nicknames.

J = Jacking Off (How do they masturbate? Do they like to watch s/o masturbate? How do they feel about s/o masturbating without them?)

Not really one to masturbate. His libido was on the low side before meeting you, and when he’s not around you then he doesn’t feel inclined to touch himself unless you keep sending him filthy texts and nudes. Even then, he will only masturbate to your messages or thoughts of you, fisting his hard cock in motions that mimic how you usually play with him.

He loooooves to watch you masturbate. Huge turn-on for Shinsou, especially if he catches you in the act. You are not allowed to touch yourself unless he watches, which is why he enjoys finding you disobeying his order so much. Perfect opportunity to make you continue, only to force you not to come unless he allows it. Shinsou will edge you for as long as he wants, running his hands along your inner thighs and watching with heavily lidded eyes as he makes you stop to show him your slick juices coating your fingers. He will lick those fingers clean and shove his face between your legs to lap at your wet pussy. He wants you to come so hard that you’ll drench his chin.

K = Kink (What are their kinks?)

As mentioned before, he loves to watch you masturbate. Edging, bondage, sensory deprivation, dirty talk and degradation, sexting, having you dress up for him in lingerie (he prefers sheer babydoll lingerie), using his quirk (and if you have a suitable quirk for the bedroom, then he enjoys you using yours on him), breeding, and somnophilia.

L = Location (What are their favorite places to have sex?)

At home! Shinsou is a private person, he doesn’t want to get caught having full-blown sex in public. That being said, he doesn’t mind secretly fingering you in a secluded area. But the best place for him is at home. When you are within the comfort of your own house, Shinsou will fuck you anywhere and everywhere. No surface is safe from you two.

M = Motivation (What turns them on?)

Watching you go about your daily activities in outfits that give him glimpses of your thighs, the tops of your breasts, your slender neck, etc. It teases him so much and you don’t even know it. You just look so relaxed and happy, and there’s something so sensual about it all. He’s also very much turned on when you act coy around him, wearing sexy lingerie and cupping the front of his pants while kissing his neck and encouraging him to ravage you. He plays hard to get when you do this, just to see you lavish him in attention to get him to break.

N = No (What are their turn-offs and hard limits?)

He doesn’t really like to inflict pain on you. Spanking and mild breathplay is okay, but he never wants to draw blood or see you suffering. Very big turn-off. He also doesn’t like cuckoldry, omorashi, or age play.

O = Oral (What are their typical behaviors and preferences in giving and receiving oral?)

Likes to give and receive. Shinsou usually either fingers you or licks you before even thinking of shoving his cock inside you. He enjoys getting blowjobs as well. Favorite scenarios include him lounging around after a long stressful day at work, and you drop to your knees to worship his cock, or he winds his fingers in your hair and rubs his crotch against your face until you open your mouth nice and wide for him.

P = Pace (What is their preferred sexual pace?)

Prefers to take his time and go slow, run through the whole process of flirting and foreplay, and savoring your delicious cries and gummy tight heat around his cock while he fucks you.

Q = Quickie (What are their opinions on quickies?)

Oh he’s totally into them. Shinsou is a busy guy with a raging hard-on, so he doesn’t always have time to thoroughly wreck you like he prefers. Even though he cherishes alone time with you to explore your body, he can just as easily have you pressed against the wall and bury his cock in you, stifling your cries as he fucks you fast and desperate. He gives you a loving kiss after quickies just to make sure you don’t feel used or gross. Not that you ever do, but he is a gentleman like that.

R = Risk (How risky are they sexually? Do they enjoy experimentation?)

He takes precautions when it comes to protection. There’s nothing sexy about an unplanned pregnancy (unless you are in a stable financial situation and mentally ready for this responsibility). That being said, he does not enjoy condoms that much, so if you can go on birth control then he is very appreciative of it. It’s not a requirement though, he will wear condoms if needed.

Regarding experimentation, Shinsou likes to dabble in light BDSM. Bondage and sensory deprivation are his preferred kinks. He likes to be in control but he can be a very good sub if you want him like this. Don’t expect him to be too obedient, he’s gotta give you a bit of a hard time just to see what kind of punishment you’ll inflict on him. It’s really satisfying to see his arrogant smirk whipped off his face and replaced with an open, drooling mouth as he succumbs to your delicious torture.

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

Shinsou has very good self-control, which lets him last for quite a while. Refractory period is decent but he can’t do too many multiple rounds. He prefers to take his time and make the first and/or second time really count. Foreplay is an important part of sex for Shinsou, he revels in making each other hot and horny and tingling with built-up tension that’s begging to be released. And because he puts so much effort in the beginning, that is why he feels spent after making love. For Shinsou, it’s quality over quantity.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Would they ever use them? On their s/o or on themselves?)

Usually relies on his hands, mouth, and cock to do the job, but let’s face it. Sometimes Shinsou just wants to lay beside you, hold a vibrator between your legs, and watch you with a playful smirk as he edges you to the brink of insanity. You will have to endure his deep voice rumbling filthy obscenities in your ear while the vibrator passes through your folds with slow, barely there strokes, and sometimes when you bite your lip and cant your hips for more, he will indulge you – only to take the vibrator away as soon as he senses you are about to come. When he decides you are sufficiently tortured, he will spoon you from behind, throw your leg over his hip, and shove his cock deep inside you. Toys are strictly for getting you wet and delirious with need. He wants you to cum on his cock.

U = Unfair (How much of a tease are they? Do they enjoy being teased?)

Shinsou is a huge tease and he is very good at it. His teasing takes on the form of unfiltered truths. He will tell you exactly how he wants to fuck you, how good you look with your legs spread out and your little hole all stretched out around his cock, how beautiful you look, how sweet your mewls of pleasure sound, he says it all and never dials down the filth. He doesn’t mind getting teased, but he usually won’t be that flustered by it. If he is, then that is a treat in of itself. Shinsou looks so cute when he gets thrown off his groove and blushes. You’ll pay for that, though. He likes to be in charge, which means he will amp up the teasing to bring you down a notch.

V = Volume (How loud are they during sex? What kinds of noises do they make? How loud do they want their s/o to be?)

He is usually silent. At most, he will let out a broken groan when he is close to coming. Otherwise, he prefers to listen to you. You can cover your mouth and act shy all you want. He actually enjoys it, because he loves making you flustered and forcing you to let out moans and whimpers. You sound like a cute kitten to him, and he will tell you as such.

W = Wild Card (A random sexual headcanon.)

Your first time with Shinsou is very memorable to him. He remembers that day perfectly and it makes him feel warm inside when he thinks about it. You were both still so awkward yet so desperate to finally have sex. He remembers avidly watching your face while he carefully eased his cock inside you, his body pressed up against yours as his arms caged your head and his hands caressed your hair.

X = X-Ray (Describe their genitalia.)

Long and decently girthy, although not too thick. Curves a bit upwards, which makes missionary feel particularly fantastic when the head of his cock strokes your upper walls. He trims his cute purple bush so everything is neat and tidy.

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

Shinsou is the type to keep his urges at bay because he has excellent self-control. But rest assured, he is usually always ready. It wouldn’t take much effort to entice him, seeing as how he is absolutely in love with you and wants to show it in every way possible. He is remarkably good at keeping his composure, and if he decides he needs you right then and there, he will lead you away under platonic pretenses while whispering in your ear all the things he plans to do to you.

Z = Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep after sex?)

Fairly quickly. He has just enough energy to clean up all the stickiness before exhaustion overcomes him. The warm, relaxing feeling after coming never fails to ease all of his tension. If you ever want Shinsou to fall asleep, sex is always the most effective option, and he will not complain.

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke smut: Body Say

Inspired by the eponymous song by Demi Lovato, which I looooove. 

~1810 words; read here on AO3 instead, AND TO SEE THE SOME GORGEOUS SMUTTY ART BY @schoute, which is too spicy for lame Tumbles.

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Hawke really likes to talk. 

Ever since Fenris met her, her sunny voice has been a nearly constant fixture in his ear. She teases and flirts and jokes, and she strikes up conversations with everyone who crosses her path. She skillfully cajoles the Hightown merchants into cutting deals for her whenever she visits the market, and she befriends servants and nobles with equal facility – often by gossiping about the nobles with the servants, but the nobles don’t need to know that part.

There are some people who would say that Hawke talks too much, and they aren’t wrong. She puts her foot in her mouth constantly when they’re at the Viscount’s Keep, and only her own charm – or Aveline’s intervention – has saved her from being fined or charged on more than one occasion. When they visit the Gallows… venhedis, Fenris wishes she wouldn’t talk so much when they go to the Gallows, but there’s no stopping that whip-sharp tongue of hers.

Fenris is the first person who will admit that Hawke talks a lot. But Fenris also knows her in ways that other people don’t. People hear her speaking and laughing, and they watch her while she bats her eyelashes and smiles. But they don’t see the subtext behind that pretty smile. 

And they don’t know just how exquisitely Hawke can communicate without saying anything at all. 

It’s partly in her eyes. When Fenris and Hawke are alone, her whiskey-coloured irises are bright and feverish and focused on his chest as she lays it bare. She pulls his clothes away and pushes him back on the bed, and her sweeping gaze is intense enough to raise excited little goosebumps on his skin. She stares hungrily at his body, her eyes fixed shamelessly on the rise of his cock as she sheds her own clothes. She crawls onto the mattress to kneel between his knees, and when her keen gaze returns to his face, he understands what she’s feeling without her needing to speak at all: she adores what she sees, every inch of his tawny skin and every twisting line of lyrium and ink that Fenris never wanted. She adores it all, and the perfection that’s reflected in her eyes is enough to bring a lump to his throat.

It’s partly in her hands. They push his legs apart with a gentle kind of firmness, eager but tender all at once, and the way she curls her fingers around his cock is reverent and slow, as though she’s been waiting all day to feel his hardness in her hand. She leans over him and laps the drop of salt from his tip before opening her lips to take him deep, and Fenris presses his head back into the pillow and arches his spine in ecstasy. It’s not just the heat of her mouth and the softness of her throat as he slides between her lips inch by blissful inch; it’s her hands: the touch of Hawke’s firm and tender hands. They’re constantly stroking his skin while she suckles his cock, smoothing up his thighs and pressing into his hips, and the pad of her thumb rolls over his nipple in an exquisite tease while her lips slide up and down his length. She smoothes her fingers firmly over every inch of his skin that she can reach, and Fenris understands what her hands are saying: his body is more than a marred vessel meant for violence and abuse. It’s meant for pleasure too, for feeling the sweet and heated touch of her hands and for receiving that which he was previously only forced to give, and the steadily rising rapture in his abdomen is at war with the steady rise of emotion in his throat.

It’s partly in the sound of her breath. It’s a sharp inhale through her nose as her lips rise and fall along the rod of his cock, and when she releases him to grasp his shaft instead, the intake of air that enters her lungs is a lust-filled gasp. Hawke smoothes her fist along his saliva-slicked length, her eyes on his cock as she pumps pleasure through his body with every stroke of her palm, and Fenris stares at her breasts as they rise and fall with the desperate depth of her breathing. She’s panting for him, sharp little breaths that are punctuated with a moan, and her hips are shifting restlessly in time with her pretty little sounds. Hawke pants and whimpers and arches her spine, and Fenris understands the meaning behind the frantic rise and fall of her ribs: she wants him, wants him with an eagerness that she is unafraid to show, and the desperate way she drags the air into her lungs drives his own desperation and propels him to grab her arm, pulling her higher up his body until she is straddling his face.

It’s partly in the twisting of her hips. He guides her down to his mouth with his palms on her bottom, and her hips instantly start to roll in a smooth and sinuous rhythm against his tongue. Fenris laps hungrily at her dew-slicked folds, long smooth strokes with the flat of his tongue so he can taste every sweet-and-salty drop of her desire, and Hawke grips the headboard and lets out a pleasured little mewl. He strokes her clit with his tongue and lips in turn, and with every eager heartbeat, his attention is lured unerringly to the movement of Hawke’s perfectly curved hips. She flexes toward him eagerly, the muscles in her bottom tensing against his palms as she chases her pleasure, and the rolling grind of her body coaxes him to swirl his tongue over her clit until his mouth is moving in time with the rhythm of her hips. She gasps and moans and thrusts toward his face, and her unspoken message couldn’t be more clear: she is drawing near to her climax, drawing closer with every roll of her hips and every stroke of his tongue over the swollen bud of her clit, and when Hawke suddenly arches her back and lets out a wild cry, Fenris understands what she means: she wants him, his body and his hands and his love, and this is exactly what he is so desperate to give.

He kisses her folds one last time, then lifts her away from his face and shoves her down onto her back. Hawke arches her spine and opens her legs and lets out a needy little mewl, and Fenris stares gormlessly at her as he settles between her parted knees. Her fevered eyes, her clenching hands, her rapid breathing and her twisting hips: the language of her body tells him more than words. It tells him everything, a whole entire picture made clear of just how desperately she wants him and the immensity of her love, and as Fenris clasps her hands and rocks his steely length against her slickness, his only wish is to use his scarred but pleasured body to tell her everything in return. 

He grips her hands and slides into her tight and heated depths, and the breathy sound of their shared pleasure mingles in the air before melting away at the meeting of their lips. Fenris seals his mouth over hers as he fills her up, savouring the heated stroke of her tongue as he pumps down to meet the rising cradle of her hips. He slides in and out slowly, taking his time to really sink his focus into every thrust inside of her wet and welcoming depths, and when Hawke nips his tongue with her teeth, he understands what she means by that as well. 

He breaks their kiss to look at her. Her copper eyes are bright and blazing with lust, and her hands are clenching tensely beneath his own. Her breathing is coming so short now that it is more a sob than a breath, and when Fenris meets her gaze, she twists her spine and rolls her hips toward him in a way that clearly communicates her wants. 

He slams into her with a hard stroke, and she cries out and arches her spine. Fenris grips her hands and fucks her with a rhythm of fast and steady thrusts, his pulse rising along with the rise and fall of his hips, and all the while Hawke’s body is telling him everything, telling him exactly how she feels and precisely what she wants without saying a single word. Her eyes are tightly shut and her fingernails are digging into the backs of his hands. Her hips are rising to meet him in a frenetic rise and fall. The breaths that escape her lips are desperate mewling cries that he translates easily into an exquisite feeling of ecstasy, and he understands everything. 

Fenris understands everything. Everything her body says, everything she is communicating to him: he understands it all, every loving nuance and every lustful wish, and every bit of it simply feeds the climax that’s building and rising in the depths of his belly. He clenches his jaw and fucks her hard, and at the moment that his rapture rushes over him, he gasps and drops his forehead to her shoulder.

He shudders and groans into her sweat-dampened skin. She pulls her fingers from his grip to stroke his hair, and as he falls bonelessly still under the aftershocks of his orgasm, Hawke tilts her lips to his ear and tells him what he doesn’t need to be told. 

“I love you,” she whispers. “I love you so fucking much, Fenris.” 

His heart is still pounding in his ears, a frenzied underbeat to the smoothness of her tender words. He’s still trying to catch his breath, still trying to gather his wits in the wake of the rapture that she gave him, and he gulps in the sandalwood scent of her skin until he can find the air to speak. 

He finally lifts his face from her shoulder and stares into her guileless amber eyes. “My heart beats for you,” he tells her. “You are thoroughly under my skin, Hawke. And I welcome it.”

Her eyes grow brighter still, and a slow grin lifts her lips. She laughs and pinches his chin. “Smooth talker,” she purrs.

He smirks, then slides his hand around her neck to cradle her nape. He lowers his lips to hers for a slow and tender kiss, and for a time, he and Hawke don’t speak at all.

Hawke likes to talk, and she does it well: she charms and flirts and jokes, and she talks her way out of trouble the majority of the time. But when she and Fenris are alone in the sanctuary of her bedroom, she doesn’t need to talk; her body says it all.

When Fenris and Hawke are alone, her body says everything.

[wri0thesley]

Looooove your writing! Can I get nsfw Jotaro somnophilia pls?

warning for somnophilia! afab reader but neutral pronouns!

The blankets feel heavier than they usually do. 

You groan in your sleep, hips shifting just so, your hands moving to clutch at the sheets beneath you - only to encounter warm flesh. A solid wall of muscle above you. The softest brush of lips against your ear, and the murmur that you recognise as someone safe;

“Shh.”

Jotaro. 

Immediately, there’s a flare of heat low in your stomach and your throat goes dry, as you recall a conversation a few days ago. 

Jotaro had woken up with a little problem in the morning, and as you’d turned your mouth to ensuring that the problem was thoroughly vanquished before the two of you got down to your responsibilities for the day, Jotaro had sighed and put one of his big hands on the back of your head, fingers stroking through strands of your hair as he looked at you with those gorgeous ocean-blue eyes that haunted your daydreams even now. 

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that whenever I woke up,” he’d grunted, his cheeks flushing, as you’d hollowed your own and bobbed your head on his cock. Jotaro’s mouth, swollen from biting down so as not to make a noise - there was nobody but you to hear it, but Jotaro has never liked drawing attention to himself - fell open as your tongue drew a slow line across his cockhead and his hips thrust upward. 

You’d delicately wiped your mouth, swallowing his release and smiling at your boyfriend, who was gorgeous even with sleep-tousled hair and half-lidded eyes. 

“I’ll wake you up doing it next time, then,” you’d said, and you’d seen a brief flash in Jotaro’s eyes. Nothing that had worried you . . . but, something that had made heat creep up the back of your neck. You’d bit your lip before deciding to get it out of you and say it - you hoped that the relationship you and Jotaro had meant that if you’d misread him, he’d tell you. He’s always been blunt. “Unless you’d rather wake me up like it?”

The flush on his face had deepened, and he’d broken the eye contact. His voice is a mumble when he says; 

“M-maybe I’d like that.”

A thrill had gone through you at the thought of it. You couldn’t help it - something about the thought of Jotaro needing you so much that he’d want to touch you whilst you were still asleep, needing the feel of your body in his hands so desperately he couldn’t wait - well, that was appealing. Your boyfriend is ordinarily so stoic, although in bed he’s a bit more likely to speak and let you know what he wants. 

“I--I wouldn’t mind it either,” you’d breathed. “S-so . . . if one day, you want to--” You bit back the whimper, the fear that what you’re saying is too forward, the worry that’s constant that you’re simply not good enough for Jotaro. “Well . . . you have my permission.”

You hadn’t expected the conversation to come to fruition, really. Jotaro is just as shy as you sometimes, and in the morning he can be forgetful. You’d assumed that maybe he’d been embarrassed, and that you’d never hear anything about intimacy whilst you were sleeping again--

Until this morning. 

You let yourself relax into the pillows, as one of Jotaro’s hands gently slides up your thigh. Taking your lack of reply to his murmur as assent to do what he will - which it most certainly was - Jotaro’s fingers draw a slow line over the crotch of your underwear, his movements practised. You can already feel heat and slickness pooling between your thighs from the very idea of what he’s doing to you, but you can’t deny that Jotaro knows how to touch you. You let your breathing slow, sleep-darkened thoughts coming to cloud your mind-- and though you are present, and you know it’s Jotaro touching you and easing your underwear down over your bare legs, you enter into that strange state of not-quite-sleeping where you feel heavy and comfortable and not really there. 

A warm hand pushes up your shirt to past your breasts. A mouth trails hot kisses over your bare skin. A tongue draws a slow line over your nipple until it hardens under the ministration, your back arching, your body clenching. 

Your half-asleep dream state conjures up a picture of Jotaro as he touches you; a little unsure, his face red, his hair a mess as his hands ghost over your hips and spread your thighs. The way his breath stutters as you feel something warm brush against your skin, leaving something wet against your thigh. The huff of breath as you feel something hard pressing against where your body is wet and needy.

You can’t tell what exactly is the truth and what your dreamy brain is telling you, but you can tell that - as Jotaro presses inside you with hot, stiff heat - your boyfriend is really enjoying having your body at his mercy. 

“Fuck,” Jotaro groans out, as your body willingly allows him entrance. Your eyes flutter open. Well, you can’t maintain your composure - as much as you want to - with Jotaro like that. 

“Next time,” you murmur, your words still heavy with sleep, as you tip your hips up towards him as welcome. “Maybe try when I’m deeper asleep--”

“Next time?” Jotaro gasps out, his cock sheathing itself as deep inside you as it can go. You flush under his enquiring gaze. 

“I-if you want--” You say, and Jotaro practically groans, his hips beginning to move, pulling out of you and pushing in - it’s downright embarrassing, how loud and how lewd the wet noises of him entering are. How turned on you are by the idea of him playing with your helpless body. 

“I do want,” Jotaro says, and he presses a kiss to your forehead that makes you sigh deeply. You are still tired, despite the fact that Jotaro’s swearing has woken you out of not being properly awake - so you let yourself relax further. You let Jotaro’s hips, driving in and out of you, decide the rhythm. 

“Good,” you say, but Jotaro can hear the yawn in your voice. Your hands clench and unclench on the bedsheets, like the twitch of someone about to fall asleep again. He’s ashamed of himself how much the idea of fucking you when you’re so sleepy and malleable turns him on--

It doesn’t take long for the wet heat of you around his cock and the soft sighs and the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks to all mix together in his brain and for him to feel his body let go completely, hot pumps of his come filling you with every one of his final stuttering thrusts. He’s about to pull out of you when your arms move forward slowly, locking around his neck. 

“Stay inside me,” you murmur, and Jotaro swallows as a ricochet of heat goes through him. His cock is already stirring. “I’m sleepy. And . . . and I wouldn’t mind being woken up again like that--” 

[saintheartwing]

Invader Zim: The Pigshit Troll, Part One

Dib didn't like Zim's creative writing stories, and he made that clear to everyone. Now everyone is sure he's the troll going around blasting other people's work and writing horrible, awful things. With his reputation cratered and people despising him...what's to be done? 

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Creative writing! One of the best, easiest ways to express yourself in the school setting. It would be a nice and simple way to boost one's grade point average, too.

But it also told people a lot about the sort of person you were, and that was as clear as could be when it came to the "student" called Zim. Dib was very well aware of that. He scowled a bit as he looked through some of the stories Zim had written, all of them were made available on the school's website just like his was or Zita or Sara or his own sister Gaz's, and there were distinct personalities shining through. Dib had spent a long time reading them in his room, his black, scythe-like hair slicked back a little, adjusting his glasses, wearing his usual black jacket as he looked the stories over.

Gretchen had a lot in common with him. She too liked to write mysteries or science fiction tales. Stories of the fantastic. One particular story had a distinct "Carrie" esque influence, a rather homely-looking girl finding out she had psychic powers and was trying to learn "how to blow shit up with my MIND" as she kept saying to her friends and family around her. It actually ended up working, a Poop cola can shaking about on the table to a pineapple and a watermelon getting blown apart to, at long last, the principal's car going up in a glorious bang right before his eyes, thereby ensuring that she would never, ever again get sent to detention or his office for anything.

Sara's stories showed her strict Catholic upbringing, there was much emphasis on guilt, forgiveness, redemption and religion. She had, however, also shown a clear talent in action schlock, FUN action schlock. Dib was surprised to find himself enjoying her tales of the Saints that she'd adapted into stories for others to read, Saint Sebastian taking more arrows than Boromir in Lord of the Rings, Peter racing for his life to escape a hostile city that wanted to kill him, ducking down every grimy alley he could find, and, of course, her magnum opus was on Saint George, the famous "dragon slayer". Not only did she detail a fantastic fight, but George's refusal to renounce his faith, terrible torture sessions, being sliced and diced on a wheel of swords that STILL didn't kill him before finally being decapitated on a city wall. Sara had clear talent for gripping your attention.

Gaz however, loooooved to write horror stories. One particular story stood out. He was in it. Investigating a haunted house, Gaz had written that Dib had heard a grandfather clock chime when the house had been abandoned for over a hundred years, and the clock couldn't still be working. All of the parts were long since rusted and broken down. Then, he was chased by an axe wielding ghost, cracking through the floor, down into a big dungeon…where even more axe wielding ghosts laid in wait! The ending was a horrible twist one too. He woke up in his bed, all of it had clearly been a dream…until you saw the "OR HAD IT?" at the end, with a special illustration she'd made of Dib holding his own severed head up above his body.

But then it came time to Zim's stories. And were he not wearing that black fake hair and fake contacts, Dib knew the little alien invader would be grinning his zipper-toothed grin with a dark, smug light in his ruby/maroon eyes. That little green-skinned piece of crap.

Zim's stories had serious grammatical errors. Zim's stories had him winning all the time. Zim's stories had him doing disgusting, horrible things to humans and especially to Dib, and to his family. Zim seemed to relish in getting to write all of this down and he LOOOOVED seeing the look on Dib's face when Dib was looking at his smartphone, because he knew, he could tell when Dib was reading one of HIS tales. Dib had a unique mixture of disgust, anger, irritation and revulsion that blended together like a bad smoothie, and Zim was drinking it aaaaaaall in…and loving every second of it.

"This doesn't even begin to make sense!" Dib proclaimed, reading the latest story Zim had written. "Why would I ever, EVER help you…YOU…conquer the galaxy? I've spent my whole life trying to keep you from conquering Earth! Literally, years of my life! You expect me to just do a personality 180 and be like "Irken tyranny is fine"!?" He remarked aloud at Zim, giving him a dark glower. "Oh, and then there's this one, this one here…" He pointed at his smartphone screen. "This one just comes off like a torture porn. How did the teacher let you get away with it? It's just you torturing me for no good reason and rubbing your face in winning. And THIS one expects me to be HAPPY that you're conquering the universe using demonic artifacts so the Irken empire reigns supreme! And then you...kidnap my sister? And you murder people in front of her yet expect us to overlook all that awful stuff because you had a sad past? My childhood has sucked, I didn't grow up to be a megalomaniacal sociopath like you!"

"Bully for you." Gaz remarked with a grunt. "Dib, it's just some fanfics and stories, it ain't a big deal."

"Yeah well maybe not, but it's still gross to me, okay? And if he wants to write about it, I get to complain about it. That's my freedom of speech." He grunted back as Zim smirked and stuck his tongue out at Dib. He had a nice, easy way to get under the human's skin and there wasn't anything he could do.

Nobody had any idea how bad it was going to get.

The next day, their English teacher Nick called the students to pay attention at the front of his class as he walked in, his expression solemn, quiet and disturbed. "I found some…very insulting, horrible reviews put up on the school website, reviewing the stories. I would like whoever wrote them to come forward." He intoned, the rather hairy-armed and hairy-chested young man sighing as he folded his arms over his green t-shirt, Dib looking from him to Zim, then to the rest of the class as they immediately took out their phones to check.

Sure enough, the reviews were astoundingly cruel. They weren't even competently put together.

"THIS STORY IS PIG SHIT! THIS STORY IS PIGSHIT!"

"PIGSHIT FUCK YOUR PIGSHIT NARDS YOU DERPIN PAN!"

"THIS STORY IS PIGSHIT!"

"REVIEW MY STORIEZ! u/3211346 REVIEW MY STORIES OR I WILL FIND YOU IN REAL LIFE AND FORCE YOU!"

"Sheesh." Dib frowned. What the heck was all this? It was all in caps. And it had been left not only on stories done by his classmates, but on other classes too. It was odd…nothing linked them at all. After all, the classmates in the grade older than him were super focused on that silly show "Moon Sailor". And Gaz's class, except for her, had all written tales about "Nakuro the Ninja", they were reeeeaaally into anime and manga lately.

"I don't want to believe anyone in my class wrote these reviews but all of the English teachers are asking their students. So…whomever may be behind these? Step forward."

And that's when some of the kids looked right at Dib, murmuring and muttering amongst themselves as Dib glanced back.

"Why are you all looking at me?" He wanted to know, frowning.

"Your stories didn't get that many bad reviews." Sara remarked.

"I still got some, though!" Dib protested. "Besides, that's not a good enough reason to think I did it!"

"But you're always complaining about ZIM'S stories really furiously and being all pissy." Said Zita.

"Why would I leave an anonymous review complaining about his stories when I've always been open about the fact I hate him?" Dib inquired. "I'm gonna all of a sudden decide after years of complaining about him to hide my complaining behind a mask because…why?" He wanted to know. "Furthermore, all of the "pig shit" reviews are advertising someone ELSE'S stories, not mine! That's not my account he linked! And I'm not even interested at all in those ninja stories or those silly Moon Sailor tales, look at the ones I favorited or left signed reviews on, none of them are in those fandoms. I'm not interested in them, so why would I leave any kind of review, even a raging, hateful one on them? Wouldn't I leave one on something I actually care about enough to get angry or furious over?"

"Yeaaaah, but there's a LOT of hatred in these reviews, and you're the only one in class who gets THAT mad about Zim stories." Gretchen confessed. "It does look kinda bad."

"But whenever I complained about Zim's stories, it was because they were so mean and cruel and misanthropic and Zim was just getting away with being a jerk! I laid out all my points well. And I sure didn't just write in all caps and with bad grammar!" Dib added. "You can't just assume I did it!"

But the kids murmured and muttered amongst themselves as Dib frowned, turning away, Zim sniggering at his misfortune. "Yeah, real funny, Zim. Real funny."

The rumor spread through the school. Poor Dib kept getting really insulting messages left for him on all of his work. Even when none of it even MENTIONED Zim, he got the horrible reviews, accusing him of being a troll, of being "Pig Shit".

"Look at this!" He told the guidance counselor, Mr. Thildari….before he remembered the man with soft white hair and a soft yet dark voice was literally blind and couldn't see it. He wore a white long-sleeve shirt and white pants and sat next to Dib on bean bag chairs in the nice "safe space" he'd set up in his office.

"Could you read it aloud?" The man softly inquired.

"Yeah…sure." Dib sighed. "Heh-hem. "you bash stories all time about Zim, tbh and you bully authors here. you are just as bad as any villain you're bitching about so get the fuck over yoself you preachy hypocrite. if i see more writers quit their storys because you a sneaky, evil person karma will come for you. i hope you believe in Jesus because yo gnna need him and the good Lord to save your sorry ass from going to hell".

"My, my, how very rude of them."

"It gets worse. Some garbled nonsense here too. "nvkdfjsl:Derpin pig shittin h*** humpin nards suckin pan!" And THEN there's " You big fat white nasty smelling fat b*** why you took me off the m*** schedule with your trifling dirty white racist a** you big fat b*** oompa loompa body a** b*** I'm coming outside and I'm going to beat the f*** out of you b***". I mean really?! Oompa Loompa body?! Racist?! Where's all this coming from? And then this guy calls me the q word! What is WRONG with these people?!"

"There has to be some way to stop it." Mr. Thildari remarked softly.

"I don't know HOW. How am I supposed to convince them it isn't me?" Dib groaned, burying his face in his hands as Mr. Thildari gently stroked over his back, and quietly sighed. "What could possibly be good enough for them?"

"I wish I could tell you." The guidance counselor told him. "All I can do is promise you, I'll be here to talk to you. To be as a shoulder to cry on."

"I'm glad you're so good at it." Dib confessed softly as he wiped his eyes on his sleeve, sniffling a bit, trying to fight back tears. "People don't realize how…how fuckin' SHITTY it is. It's this daily grind, waking up every day to see nothing but shit flung at you just for having an opinion they don't like, for trying to make the world a better place, for trying to hold people accountable for the awful things they say and do."

"Well Dib, remember, Zim has the right to write stories, even if you think they're awful or dark or cruel."

"Yeah…sure. Doesn't mean I don't get to complain about them!" Dib muttered. "Everyone forgets that. They just want to be free to post anything up with no critique. But this? This isn't critique I'm getting, this isn't like me pointing out character inconsistencies or how meanspirited a story feels, this is just bashing, this is just trolling, this is just swears and vulgar crap and yelling. That's not free speech, that's like…HATE speech. So what am I gonna do…" He murmured, burying his face in his hands. "…what am I gonna do…"

…what indeed.

Author's Note: Every single review you see from "Pig Shit" and quoted by Dib is literally word for word either what I've received, or what I've been accused of writing. And Dib's views are my own. And that's all I will say for now.

[taeminstark]

Wake Up Call - jongtae / pg-13 / 1,389 words

Jonghyun wakes up earlier than Taemin on a calm Sunday morning. He makes breakfast in bed for him as he sleeps, brings it to their room, cooing Taemin’s name as he walks in. He's about to wake him up but- when he sees Taemin's sleeping so soundly beneath the thin white sheet, small patches of skin exposed due to his revealing singlet- he decides to set down the food on their dresser and hop back into bed with him for just a bit.

Taemin is an unbothered rock when Jonghyun curls up close, his chest going flush with Taemin's back, arms sliding around his small waist and his head fitting nicely in Taemin's nape. He shuts his eyes and just breathes the maknae in, because fuck, Taemin always smells so good. Jonghyun isn't surprised by himself when his lips finally meet the warm skin of Taemin's nape, isn't surprised when he continues to his softly down his neck, because god, he loves kissing Taemin. Taemin shifts a little but this doesn't deter Jonghyun at all, if anything, it just eggs him on to press even more kisses to all that toasty skin. As his lips continue to kiss paths up and down Taemin's neck, his gentle grip on Taemin's waist tightens, but only for a moment, instead he decides to slip a cool hand under Taemin's thin singlet, palming at his oh-so-warm belly. Taemin stirs a bit at the touch but doesn't wake, so Jonghyun continues. As Jonghyun's loving mouth trails up higher, he finally meets Taemin's ear- perfect. He kisses the small and sweet lobe, not minding the feel of Taemin's piercings on his lips- they add interest anyways. he hums as he pulls the warm, pink flesh into his mouth, ever so softly nibbling at the skin. All the while working his hands under Taemin's shirt, running smooth circles into his skin. When he gets tired of simply rubbing though, he trails his hands upwards, humming adoringly when he feels the soft nubs of Taemin's nipples. This is how he continues, his fingers circling over Taemin’s sensitive nubs, or as he likes to call them oftentimes- chocolate chips. He continues his sweet ministrations on his boyfriend, not really caring at this point, just continuing because it's just feels so good to kiss taemin, to touch his soft skin, appreciate him for all that he is. Jonghyun goes a little dizzy when he really gets into it. His head goes fuzzy at the edges and suddenly he can't b r e a t h e, all because of his beautiful boyfriend. Honestly, it shocks Jonghyun on a daily basis how someone so utterly perfect could exist, more so how lucky he is to have him right within arms reach. Taemin is all his. Finally things become a bit more heated. Now Jonghyun is breathing hot against the shell of Taemin's ear, almost suckling and moaning because it'd be ridiculous of him not to become aroused when kissing and touching his boyfriend this way for so long, and if the way he touches Taemin mixed with his babely body against him doesn't send paths of tingles straight past his navel, the damn oral fixation will get him hard in no time.

It's 1:42pm and Jonghyun is moaning into Taemin's ear as he sleeps like a rock- which is kind convenient if it weren't for the fact that he kind of wanted Taemin to wake up now, but he doesn't force him, he takes what he can get, not disturbing taemin, not when their days off are solemn and spaced so far between. He knows his baby needs his rest so he doesn't pester, even if it is after noon.

He continues unadulteratedly kissing Taemin's neck until he shifts his position a bit. Now his plush mouth is at Taemin's jaw, his chin, warm cheek, fluttered and fanning eyelashes, temple half-covered by pale blue hair, then on taemin's soft nose, he places a sweet kiss to that single mole he adores so much. He nuzzles his nose against Taemin’s, blushing hard and huffing out air because Taemin usually shies away to such intense shows of affection- which Jonghyun doesn't mind per se, but wishes could happen more often, simply because he loves him and wants to shower him in love every day.

Taemin is shy, and while that on its own is more than adorable and endearing to jonghyun, there are times when he longs for Taemin to be a bit more intimate or romantic, at least when they aren't having sex, because when Taemin simply states it as “fucking” Jonghyun pouts, insists he says “~~making looooove~~” and to that Taemin rolls his eyes and meets him halfway and either says “having sex “or “love fucking”. “Someone’s ding dong goes in someone’s hole, so does it really matter what we call it?” Jonghyun left the room when Taemin said that once. 

Before Jonghyun can realize, his mouth is wet, and pliant against Taemin's lips, the younger is still asleep, but suddenly Jonghyun can't find it in him to stop kissing him. It's as if Jonghyun's drowning and he finds the air to survive in the plump skin of taemin's lips. Softly, he's panting, flushing hard and a little embarrassed that he's /this/ hot and bothered and his boyfriend isn't even awake, but at least when Taemin finds out that Jonghyun is like this, all previous doubts of Jonghyun ever leaving him for someone else will be thrown out the window, because fuck, he's obsessed with him when he's not even responding- but he'd probably never admit to Jonghyun how freaking good that makes him feel, how much it boosts his ego, because he’d never hear the end of it.

 Suddenly plush lips are moving against Jonghyun's and he pulls back with a wet sound, not in shock nor guilt, only happiness to see that Taemin is finally awake. 

“Mmor...nning..” Taemin slurs, eyes still closed. 

“Morning baby,” Jonghyun says shyly, lowering his lips to kiss Taemin's jaw.

“Ssuch a nnice way..t-to wake uhhhp..” the younger hums, shifting slightly in the elder’s embrace. 

“I'd wake you like this every day if you didn't mind.” Jonghyun whispers, kissing his cheek repeatedly in a slow, tender fashion.

 “Nnooo, I'm- I'm all sweaty, don't kiss, nnn,” Taemin protests, trying to turn his head away from Jonghyun which only results in the elder’s lips on his ear again. 

“And what's wrong with sweat huh? I didn't get a single complaint from you the other night, the other night when I...licked at your hot chest, your wet and slick neck,” Jonghyun says in a half-assed sultry voice. He's trying to be hard, but even though he's aroused, he's a ball of mush.

“Mmm...sex sweat is different than sleep sweat...one’s gross, one’s sweet,” Taemin says, opening his eyes to find a flushing boy above him. He smiles so widely he thinks his face might break. Jonghyun has paused his kisses to just stare at his lover. He caresses Taemin's warm cheek with a hand, bringing himself closer. He kisses his nose, his eyes again. The corner of Taemin's mouth (that kiss makes Taemin hum sweetly, which sends an ache into Jonghyun’s heart, and a throb downstairs). Then, they're kissing, it's all soft lips meshing together lazily, faint hums of approval and enjoyment, and damn, sex is good, but if Taemin had to pick, he'd probably pick kissing over sex in terms of what he'd rather do with Jonghyun for the rest of his life, because honestly, whether Jonghyun knows it or not, he's gotten off just from their heated make out sessions in the past, and it’s always been more than enough for him.

 Jonghyun pulls back momentarily, panting hot against Taemin's pinking lips. “Sorry but..all of you is sweet to me,” Jonghyun says, lips finding the younger’s again.

“Mm, I’d love to continue, but I really need to shower,” Taemin says when they part, feeling a little dizzy as he inhales Jonghyun's lusty breath.

“If you want..I can join you,” Jonghyun asks, somehow back to shy again. “I already took a quick one but another isn’t gonna hurt anybody.”

“Join me, yeah?” Taemin asks. Jonghyun nods and kisses Taemin once more before sitting up and pulling Taemin with him.