#i might actually be tweaking right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugawhaaa · 5 months ago

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ATEEZ'S HANDS

☆--------And how they use them on you

Warnings!! SMUT

Pairing:: ot8!ateez x fem/gn reader

Ateez h/c masterlist:: 💋

Hongjoongs hands aren't very big so how can he use them to assert some kind of dominance? Ah, perfect, torture the fuck out of you. His hands are like a torture device to you, gently grazing his fingertips along endogenous zones and inching right around your intimate parts but not quite making the commitment.

Also putting his fingers in your mouth 🥴 he wouldn't be too forceful with it but it's the principle of the matter.

Beautiful ass hands. Sleek, slender, ugh 😩 his touch is so so so gentle, feather-light. He'd use his hands similar to Hongjoong, hovering around those spots that make you squeal but never fully committing. When his fingers finally get inside he abuses that "come hither" motion so much 🥴

He loves to trace your lips with his thumb before kissing you and when he's flirting with you. Gang I'm tweaking out. He also loves to give you princess treatment which his gentle hands become handy, gently holding your ankle when helping you take off your heels, giving you back messages that may or may not turn sexual 🥰

We all know this man's hands are fine as hell so this might be a little short bc I don't like to repeat what everyone says but EVERYONE SAYS EVERYTHING because he's so fine. Just fingering. Fingering, fingering, fingering, with this man 😫 his fingers hit so deep and scoop up your pleasure so perfectly. Also stuffing his fingers in your mouth when he fucks you from behind, basically choking you out.

Pining your wrists 🥰 just holding you down in general when you're misbehaving. You're wiggling away in pleasure, he'll grab your thighs and pull you right back. Also when you're in a situation where the two of you have to be quiet he aggressively holds his hand over your mouth, like you cannot breathe 😁

...we do not talk about this enough as a society. I'm gonna be using the first photo for most of the inspo 😁 yeosang is hella strong all the way through his arms to his hands so fingering with him is hard go live through. A lot of squirting...a lot. Also, a lot of people don't picture Yeosang like this, but groping>>> your thighs, ass, tits, whatever makes you feel best. He loves to massage the plush skin between his fingers so deeply.

And he also abuses the "Come hither" motion as well, though he is more of a thrusting person. Like I said earlier he's so strong in his arms so doing things like holding you up in his arms and intertwining your fingers with his is a yes 😍 when he's being a lil subbie he grips everything like his life depends on it. Clawing the bedsheets, grabbing your wrist, pulling his or your hair...

Woo here we go 🥴 we have another torture device up in here. Tracing your jawline with his fingertips, gently inching to your neck before wrapping his fingers around your throat. He isn't always aggressive when he grabs your neck. Sometimes he's cutting off your blood circulation and other times he's very gentle, just holding his hand there to remind you who is in charge.

Another groper up in here, but ass. Lifting you up closer to him by your ass or just spreading your cheeks out before fingering you. Most of the time though he's very gentle with his hands, its his beefy arms you have to fear...

Lord have mercy. The third photo is an actual photo of his hands. Just imagine his hands sliding up your arm to meet your hand while he fucks you from behind, groaning and growling all kinds of dirty words into your ear. Another groper, like the groping trio, he loves anything meaty (you can't convince me this man wouldn't love sex with a chubby girl) tits, ass, thighs, anything thar jiggles is now in his fists.

He's an aggressive ass fingerer as well. He'd get right up in there and pound his fingers into you until you fold in half. Also another choker, except he's only ever aggressive or doesn't do it at all, all or nothing per se. He likes to put his fingers in your mouth as well, especially when fucking you from behind.

Deep breaths...based on the fourth photo he's one of those guys to hold your lower abdomen as he fingers you, maybe even applying a little weight to make you squirm and kick your feet. He's all about fingering, flicking your clit, "come hither" motion, pounding, squriting everything you can imagine. He likes to finger you from behind too, maybe having a little collar to lift your head back as he fingers you.

He likes to tease those sweet spots and hold your throat as well. When he's got you tied up in something he loves to yank on it, twisting the ropes or chains between his fingers and around his hands.

Groping...100%. I can see him hitting it from the back and bringing his hands around front to grope your tits 🥴 and bring his hand down a bit to finger your clit while he fucks you. He likes to hold your jaw up as well, helping you tilt your head back onto his shoulder...

Hand-holding during sex is a big thing for him too, holding your hand beside your head against the pillow while he pounds into you. Also tracing his fingers on your lips too, especially before actually diving into the fun...

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cosmicsimsi · 1 month ago

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Why You Shouldn’t Use GShade

Even after two years, I still see people using GShade and claiming it's a safe program, when it’s really not! There are already some older Tumblr posts about this, but I figured it’s worth refreshing the issue.

So please read this

Around two years ago, GShade’s developer added a code that could forcefully shut down your computer, not because of a bug or security measure, but on purpose. Why? Because he was mad that someone, specifically a 16-year-old made an alternative way to install GShade without using the official updater. Instead of handling it professionally, the dev decided to add a malicious code as "punishment" for anyone trying to modify GShade. That’s malware behavior.

(The first spark) ↓

At that time you also HAD to update Gshade to unistall it. ↓

(Developers "Apology") ↓

Now, you might be thinking, “Okay, but that was patched out, so it’s fine now, right?” Nope. Because the biggest issue isn’t just what he did, it’s the fact that he still thinks he did nothing wrong.

The Problem with Closed-Source Software Like GShade

GShade is closed-source, meaning no one except the developer can see or verify what’s actually in the code. This is a issue when dealing with someone who has already abused their control over the software.

With open-source programs (like ReShade), anyone can look at the code, verify it’s safe, and contribute to improving it. If something shady is added, people can catch it immediately. But with GShade, you have to just trust that the dev isn’t hiding anything malicious. And considering his past actions, that’s a massive risk to take.

Even if GShade is "safe" right now, nothing is stopping the dev from adding another backdoor, data collection, or something even worse in the future. Since no one can see the code, you wouldn’t know until it was too late. And given that he still defends his actions, there’s every reason to believe he’d do something similar again.

“But I’ve Never Had Issues With GShade”

A lot of people say GShade runs better than ReShade or has better effects. That might be true, but no amount of quality or convenience is worth putting your computer at risk. Just because something hasn’t caused problems yet doesn’t mean it won’t in the future. Malicious code can be slipped in at any time, and because it’s closed-source, no one would be able to warn you.

And honestly? You shouldn’t be using software made by someone who has already proven they’re willing to mess with your computer. If a developer intentionally inserts harmful code once, they can do it again.

What Should You Use Instead?

There’s a safe and open-source alternative: ReShade

It’s free and open-source, meaning the community can review the code to ensure it’s safe.

It can do almost everything GShade does, and while it may take some tweaking, it’s worth the effort.

Most GShade presets can be converted to work with ReShade with a bit of adjustment.

There are guides available to help transition from GShade to ReShade Here is one: How To Move To ReShade From GShade

Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, it’s your computer, and you can do whatever you want with it. But if you choose to keep using GShade, just be aware of the risks you’re taking. The dev has already demonstrated that he’s willing to sabotage people’s computers when he feels like it. He still thinks he was justified. And because GShade is closed-source, he has complete control over what’s in the code without anyone being able to check.

So ask yourself: Is that really the kind of software you want to trust?

ReShade is a safer, open-source alternative that doesn’t put you at risk.

Thank you for reading

Here are some links that discusses the whole topic:

Twitter

The persons Blog the code was directed at

#thesims4 #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims

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hivemuthur · 2 months ago

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Request: something with sex pollen or accidental aphrodisiacs (science experiments?). And not like dubcon. More like Viktor/Reader have unconfessed feelings and apparently one or both of them needs to be drugged and desperate for sex to get them out. Idk if it’s your thing but I’d be interested to see your take on it.

I remember the evening I got this ask. I was like yesss and my friends gave me the look, you know?

Unknown Variable

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! sex pollen, but I've managed to plot it up a bit. From warnings: unsafe sex, rough sex, lots of fluids, brief mentions of experimenting on animals. The substance here is based on how fentanyl works, sort of :') I had to make myself a loop hole for something I wanted to write for the longest time :v

word count: 4,5K

author’s note: Freaktor Nation, how we feeling? Thank you for granting me another porn-writing fiddler milestone Anon :') beautiful artist behind the cover is @petitesieste 🖤

—

Your idle hand plays with the pendant of your necklace while the other scribbles down notes from the last test. Another miss. And life goes on in pain.

Finding a medication that alleviates pain without an endless list of side effects has been Sisyphean work, to say the least. Every time you think you’re close, something immune to compromise pokes its insistent head through the crack you’ve made in the never-fully-open door to the human pain receptor map.

To be honest, your ambitions to cure pain have long been tempered. Now, it’s merely about making it less relentless—offering people who struggle with it a brief reprieve, something to make it manageable. Not that Viktor was your inspiration, but he is a constant reminder of why you should keep going when every trial eventually turns to dust.

"Why do you insist on keeping such thorough documentation of the rejected ones?" The said reminder peeks over your shoulder, his hair tickling your cheek.

You huff, masking how startled you are, and mutter, "Of all people, you shouldn’t be asking stupid questions."

"There is no such thing. Only stupid answers," he counters, eyes still glued to your notes. "It’s a very noble goal, you know, but you might have to come to terms with the fact that a complete erasure of pain may simply be impossible."

"Again. Of all people, you should not speak of the impossible, Viktor," you smile under your nose and turn your head just enough to see that he’s smiling, too. A jest.

"I'm only teasing you," he hums, reaching out to point at something on the page. "This… is not bad. Persevere, you will get there."

His fingertip lands right next to where your hand has frozen mid-writing, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his palm. For a brief moment, you allow yourself the illusion that Viktor is doing it intentionally. But the thought vanishes as soon as he straightens and clears his throat.

"I'm not sure I will continue with this one," you admit, tapping your pen against the page. "It gets rid of skeletal pain but gave my rats a headache to die for."

"Oh, no, no." Viktor shakes his head, eyes still scanning your notes. "This one, you shouldn’t abandon. Perhaps just tweak it."

"Tweak it?" You scoff, slumping back in your chair. "Do you have any idea how many times I’ve tweaked it?"

"I can only imagine," he replies with a wry smile. Then, after a beat, he leans in again, tapping a precise point on the intricate web of chemical formulas—lines and hexagons scrawled across the page. "I am no chemist, but this… just tickles the wrong part of the brain. Make it tickle the right one, and it might actually work."

It’s hard for him to mask the undertone of hope lingering in his voice. Hope that you will find the answer. Hope that your relentless pursuit of relief for those who suffer will finally bear fruit. And, if he allows himself a moment of selfishness, hope that his own pain, the dull ache that never leaves him, might one day be eased.

But there is something else, something unspoken and far less rational. Viktor has always found himself drawn to you, not just in admiration for your intellect, but in the way you work—how you lean too close to your notes, muttering under your breath, the way your fingers absently play with whatever they can find when you are deep in thought.

Since the early years at the academy, he has enjoyed working by your side more than he would ever admit. When your paths eventually diverged—yours to chemistry, his to engineering—he felt the loss more acutely than he had expected. There was pride, of course, in seeing you forge your own path, and such a noble one at that. But the empty spaces where you used to be, the missing sound of your voice arguing a point over some formula or blueprint, left a quiet ache that he did not know how to soothe.

Sometimes, when the solitude stretches long enough, he allows himself the indulgence of believing he was your inspiration. That some part of your devotion to this research, to this particular pursuit, was born from those long nights spent together over textbooks and dimly lit workbenches. But the thought is always fleeting, because minutes later, you will wave a dismissive hand at him, shooing him away to his own lab with a teasing remark, and he will remind himself that he is a fool for entertaining such notions.

It is not as though there have been no opportunities. There have been moments—unguarded, lingering occasions where it might have been easy to reach, to say something, to step beyond the line of friendship. But somehow, the time was never right. And so, this one thing, he never felt like he could touch.

You blink a few times, scrunch your eyebrows, and hum. The pen gets trapped between your teeth as you pick up the sheet and bring it close to your face, as if looking at it from a smaller distance would somehow make it clearer.

“You know, you might be right,” you finally say in a tone that suggests Viktor is never right.

A chuckle rumbles out of him. “Unthinkable,” he snorts, leaning on his cane and offering you a smug, satisfied grin.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be so pleased with yourself,” you chide, but the corner of your mouth betrays a smirk. “Thank you. I must ask you to leave me to be a genius now.”

“Ah, there it is,” he sighs dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Served my purpose, and now I’m being unceremoniously chased away.”

“Don’t sulk,” you tease, waving him off as you set the paper back down. “I’ll even put your name in teeny-tiny little scribble on the leaflet.”

“You spoil me,” he deadpans, shaking his head as he turns to leave. He pauses by the door, glancing back at you with an affectionate smirk. “Fine. Let me know how it goes.”

Before you can say, “You’ll be the first one to know,” Viktor is already gone, the door swinging shut behind him. You give yourself a moment to rub the stupid feeling of light-headedness away from your temples before setting back to work.

What was meant to be a small tweak stretches into hours. Then days. Then, after two weeks, as you stand in front of the blackboard, the realisation you hadn't anticipated settles over you. Whatever you’ve created will inevitably end the already miserable lives of your test rats. Other than that, the medication looks as ready as it will ever be.

You could wait, of course—gather a group of willing human test subjects and conduct the trial properly. But let’s face it—you’ve waited long enough. And it’s right there.

Your jaw aches from hours of clenching, your sleep has been erratic at best, and now, to top it all off, a dull pain throbs in your tooth. You could just check. Worst case? You die. And if that happens—well, you won’t care anyway, will you?

As for the side effects? Manageable. Irrelevant in the grand scheme of the doctor-patient relationship. So yes—it seems you’ve very much done it.

The sun sets at some point while you debate with yourself—to drink or not to drink. When you finally do, all your hesitation, all your pain, the aches and nagging little pokes you hadn’t even realised were there—vanish. They melt into a feeling of softness and lightness, enveloping you in a warmth that feels almost like a gentle embrace.

Your fingers flex as if testing for any lingering pain, but there is none. Even the dull pressure behind your eyes from lack of sleep has dissolved. A laugh bubbles up, unbidden, and you press your palm over your mouth, giddy with disbelief. It worked. It actually worked.

Then, just as quickly, your thoughts snap to Viktor.

You scramble for your notes, knocking over an empty vial in your haste. Ink smears as you flip through your pages, but you hardly care. Grabbing one more vial—just in case—you cork it tight and shove it into your pocket. You need him to see this. Now.

Your heartbeat pounds as you rush out, barely remembering to lock the door behind you before taking off down the corridor. The lamps lining the halls have already been lit, casting flickering pools of gold onto the stone floor. You don’t stop to enjoy it.

Viktor’s dorm is far from your lab, but somehow the jog doesn’t get you tired. On the contrary, it feel great. You reach his door and rap your knuckles against the wood, shifting on the balls of your feet with barely contained excitement.

“Viktor! Open up—I’ve done it!”

The door swings open faster than you expect, and Viktor is already halfway through a hasty, "Shh!" before you shove the stack of notes into his chest. He stumbles back a step, catching them with one hand while bracing against the doorframe with the other. His hair is tousled, his vest unbuttoned—he must have been in the middle of something, though whatever it was is immediately forgotten as he frowns down at the crumpled pages.

"What—?" he starts, but you barely hear him.

With a triumphant little flourish, you hold up the test tube between you, the liquid inside gleaming under the candlelight. “I did it,” you whisper, grinning. “It works.”

Viktor’s gaze flickers from the vial to your face, eyes narrowing. "It? You mean—?"

“If this isn’t enough evidence—” you gesture to the notes he’s still sorting through, his confusion growing by the second—“I might have secretly tried it.”

His fingers still against the parchment. His head snaps up. “…You what?” Voice pitches embarrassingly, sharp with alarm. He glares at you as if he might physically shake the confession back into your mouth, but it’s too late.

You shift your weight between your feet, the initial rush of excitement dimming just a little under his scrutiny. “I tried it,” you admit again, slower this time, watching as his grip tightens around your notes. “And it works, Viktor. No pain, not even a little. I feel…” You hesitate, trying to find the right words, then settle on, “Light. Like I’m floating.”

“That is not reassuring,” he snaps, finally stepping back to let you inside. As soon as you cross the threshold, he shuts the door with a soft but urgent click and turns on you. “You—” He exhales, dragging a hand down his face, visibly forcing himself into something calmer. “You did not even hesitate?”

“I hesitated a lot,” you counter, but that does nothing to ease the storm in his eyes. He looks down at your notes again, scanning them, flipping through pages. His brow furrows deeper with every line.

The rustling of paper sounds unbearably loud in the silence, the only noise countering it the pounding of your own heart in your ears. He says nothing, eyes scanning the pages with intense focus. He’s not just skimming—he’s memorising, cataloguing every formula, every line of documentation. His lips part once, his expression shifting from concern to consideration.

Finally, he lifts his gaze, hopeful and searching. “And the side effects?”

“Very unlikely to make an appearance. Oh, hey!” Your sentence stutters to a halt as you catch Viktor tilting the vial at his lips—and swallowing. “Have you lost your mind?”

“You said it’s safe. I trust you.” He shrugs with a grin, then his eyes flutter shut. After a moment, a quiet, breathy laugh escapes him. “I’ll be damned,” he mutters. “It does work.” As if testing a theory, he exhales deeply, then sits on the sofa and stretches his legs out experimentally. “Please, continue.”

You blink, thrown off balance, but quickly shake it off. “Uh… very unlikely,” you repeat, resuming your pacing in front of him. “Whoever prescribes the medication would have to be attracted to their patient, and vice versa, for any additional effects to take place. And they would both have to ingest it. So, you see—”

Through your excited rambling, you don’t immediately notice Viktor clearing his throat uncomfortably. You frown briefly, a strange warmth blooming in your chest, but your mouth refuses to stop moving.

Viktor speaks your name softly, trying to halt your trot. Then, again. Then, once more—his voice lifting just a notch in urgency.

You finally pause, eyes locking onto his. “Chances are… very slim,” you finish the sentence, but your voice falters into something dangerously close to a whine.

Viktor stretches his legs out stiffly, his hips jerking once as his fingers clench into the fabric of his trousers. A flush creeps up his neck, blooming across the cheeks and he exhales sharply through his nose, shifting as if trying to find relief. His chest rises and falls fast, and when he swipes a hand over his face, his lips part, damp from where he must have licked them. Another small jolt runs through him, thighs pressing together, and his knuckles go white where they grip his knees.

But above all of this, he just looks… incredibly hot. And as if the sight alone isn’t enough to nearly undo you, he speaks.

“Aphrodisiac.” Comes a low mutter of disbelief. “Brilliant, really,” he chuckles weakly, though there’s little amusement in it—only breathlessness. Brilliant, how you connected the dots. So incredibly brilliant to tickle, as he advised you, the parts of the brain that entwine both—pain and pleasure.

“But, oh… f-fuck,” Viktor stutters, a sharp inhale cutting through his words as his body betrays him. His hand twitches towards his lap before he catches himself, fingers gripping his wrist in a desperate attempt to resist. A painful cramp of lust wrenches his stomach into a knot, his entire frame tensing. “You’ve missed a variable, I’m afraid—”

You stand frozen, staring at him, torn between bolting out the door and throwing yourself at his feet. But then the realisation crashes over you, scorching hot, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your pulse slams against your ribs, your skin suddenly feverish—damp forehead, shirt clinging to your back like a parasite.

“You…” your voice wavers as you step forward, heat curling low in your stomach. “It means—” Viktor swallows hard, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, pupils blown wide. “Oh, gods,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. “You like me,” the truth spills from your lips, the weight of it sending another sharp pang of want through you.

“Immensely,” he admits, voice strained, thighs pressing together as another tremor runs through him. His face is painted in apology, but his hands reach out for you.

You take another step, closing the space between you, and his breath stutters. “Since when?”

“Always, ah—” he gasps, struggling to keep control. His fingers tighten into fists against his knees again. “You?”

Your throat is dry. “Oh… s-same,” you choke out deciding the time for embarrassment is long gone.

His head tips back, jaw clenched, a strangled sound slipping out as he exhales. “Gods.”

And it just fucking hurts not to touch him. The pain you had so recklessly rid yourself of is back with unnatural force—aching, unrelenting—and gods help you, if you don’t rut into his lap any minute now, you’re going to die miserably.

When you get close enough, his fingers brush yours pleadingly, and the touch feels like a punch to the gut. The mere ghost of his skin against yours bends you in half, has you leaning over him, gripping the backrest of the sofa for support.

“Can I?” he asks, his hand hovering under your skirt. The sweetness of it—this man, asking permission to touch you when you’re so clearly drenched, when you’re convinced he can see the slick dripping down your thigh—makes you want to weep.

You nod desperately, breathing out a tearful, “Please.”

Viktor immediately comes to your aid, his palm swiping up the dampness on your leg before pressing flat against your cunt. The sound it makes—slick and obscene—has him gasping. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispers, bewildered.

His neglected cock aches, trapped painfully in his trousers. With the hand not already between your thighs, he fumbles with his belt, freeing himself—but to no avail. His left palm is even clumsier than the right, which now falters, frozen between your legs, his drunk mind unable to do more than one thing at a time.

Desperate for friction, you grab his wrist and rut against his palm, spreading slick all over his fingers. Viktor whines, overwhelmed by both having you and not having you where he needs you most. Then, with a sudden motion that makes you gasp, he moves your knickers aside, hooks two fingers into your cunt, and pulls you down onto his lap.

The moment you're there, you begin to slide your pussy up and down his cock, and Viktor moans—a filthy, slutty sound that has you threading your fingers through his hair, tugging his head to face you.

He looks so gorgeous you could eat him and clean your teeth with his bones. Possessed by greed, you sink your tongue into his mouth and nearly stop grinding from the sheer feeling of it. His hands—gentle, reverent—cup your cheeks, soft lips nipping at yours, his eyelashes tickle your skin when his eyes flutter shut in relief.

It had never crossed your mind to just kiss him. And oh, you’ve missed out on so much.

Because Viktor kisses like he’s been wanting you for the longest time—slow and deep, breathing in through his nose as he presses his face into yours. Close, so close you could melt into him, dissolve into liquid and flow down his throat, straight to his heart. His scent floods you, sweet on your senses and unmistakably him, nothing in particular yet everything at once.

Your hips move once more, but he doesn’t let you go. He groans into your mouth, biting down a moan when your pussy lips hug the underside of his cock, teasing the spot just beneath the head. You stay there, rubbing your clit in short, frantic movements, the sinful sounds falling between you, making you ache for more.

Desperation floods your veins, your slick coating every inch of him as you grind into the ridges of his groin, each drag of your clit sending ecstatic warmth down each of your limbs. Viktor is no better—his breath comes in ragged pants. He grips your hips unsteadily, trying and failing to guide you into something slower that he could endure.

“F-fuck… you are—” His voice trembles, his forehead falling against yours as if the weight of his pleasure is crushing. “So wet. You feel so—so good.”

You can barely reply, too lost in the heat of him, the feeling of his length dragging through your folds, the head catching just right where you swell, the sensation buzzing, building up. Still, you manage a breathy, “Your cock feels amazing,” and the whimper Viktor lets out is nothing short of wrecked.

His hands slip up your back, holding you close, his lips brushing yours as he mutters sweet, broken things—bits of words and phrases in his native tongue. You don’t understand them all, but the way he speaks them, ardent and needy, has your stomach tightening, your whole body scorched.

“Viktor, I’m—”

“I know. Please, cum. For me,” he pleads, his hands gripping you tighter as you begin to lose your rhythm. It’s there, you can already feel it creeping up your spine, twisting and prickling your skin where Viktor touches you, coaxing it out.

The heat in your belly snaps, and you cry out, trembling in his arms as your release gushes over him, soaking his cock, his thighs, pooling where your bodies meet. The wetness, the sheer warmth of you, sends him over the edge in turn.

Viktor shudders beneath you, his voice breaking on a guttural groan as his cock twitches and spills, ropes of hot cum streaking over his stomach, mixing with your slick into a sticky, messy heat between you.

Your mouth falls back to his, kissing away the sweat from his lips, your pelvis still rocking gently through the aftershocks—the slide so easy now that you feel like a whore doing it. Viktor hums when you pull his damp hair away from his forehead, his breath slowing down when he exhales a breathless chuckle. "You will kill me," he murmurs, voice hoarse and fucked-out.

"No," you whisper, nuzzling into his cheek, your body still moving against him, slow and unhurried. Like a cat rubbing against its keeper, needy and content all at once. "No, I would never. I need you."

Viktor groans softly at that, his hands tracing your sweat-slicked back before settling at your waist. "What do you need from me, sweet girl?" His voice is low, the tone suggesting that anything you ask for, he will give you.

"Please, fuck me," you breathe, pressing closer, your lips brushing against his jaw. "I feel so empty." Only now you begin to undo the buttons of your shirt and Viktor does the same, pressing your damp stomachs together. He inhales your scent from the crook of your shoulder and hums, eyes rolling back in his skull as if the words physically unravel him. His grip on you tightens briefly before he smacks your hips with both hands and says, “Get up. Please.”

Your legs nearly betray you, thighs shaking and knees weak as you try to rise from his lap, only to almost collapse back at the sight of the webs of your shared release stretching between you. It makes a sticky sound, gross and hot, and to your relief, Viktor must find it hot too—because he’s nearly fully hard again.

You don’t know if it’s the medicine or something else. You feel different now, though it definitely still holds, since Viktor gets up with ease, turns you to face the couch, and presses his fingers to the back of your neck, squeezing gently before bending you over. “Ass up, head down,” he says, a renewed lewdness in his tone.

You turn your head, catching him in the corner of your eye, and at the flicker of concern on your face, he smooths a hand along your spine and murmurs, “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” He peels the sweat-dampened shirt from your back, and you smile at your shared state of half-undress—the way no time is wasted getting fully bare, the discomfort of parting greater than the inconvenience of underwear pushed aside clumsily and trousers still pooled around his knees.

Only you know how many times you’ve pictured this exact scene. But your mind never drifted far enough to conjure exactly how wet and scorching everything would be, how your thighs would quiver in anticipation. The cushioned seat dips next to your knee as Viktor sinks down beside you, close enough that your legs touch. His cock hovers below your pussy, his hands undo your bra, then settle where your hips crease.

He rocks back and forth and tsks when you shift needily. “So impatient,” he hums, sickly sweet in your ear. “But I suppose I have your lack of restraint to thank for being here in the first place.”

A clever retort sits at the tip of your tongue, only to be punched back down when Viktor slides inside you with one smooth thrust, hitting deep. He groans, wide and loud, fingers digging into your flesh—but you don’t see his face. You barely see anything through the tears pricking your eyes, forcing you to squeeze your lids shut. Your nails bite into the couch, and your back arches to meet him, presenting your ass just as he asked.

Still tight from your last climax, you hug all of him snugly, yelping when his balls slap against your soaked lips. It’s slow, almost teasing—the way he stretches you out. He’s too busy gaping at his cock, appearing and disappearing inside you, to hear your little mewls of incoherent begging, the word please tumbling from your lips over and over with no meaning beyond desperation.

Finally, you’ve entered the realm of things he can touch. And it’s dishonourable, the way it happened—but he doesn’t care. The ability to touch you, to fuck you, quickly erases all shame as he slams into you, hard and measured, knocking moans and ragged pants from your throat. It feels better than anything he’s ever felt.

He fucks you hard and rough. Each thrust is forceful, precise, driving deep until the sound of bodies slapping against each other is all you can hear. When enough pressure builds, and he feels your walls tightening, clenching closer and closer around his cock, he fists a hand in your hair and yanks you up. A sharp cry spills from your lips, your belly presses out, and you have to brace a hand against the couch's backrest. His arm comes around your shoulders, holding your back flush against his chest. The other hand—the death of you—slides between your legs, fingers pressing ruthlessly against your clit.

No restraint, no kindness—no nice boy left in him. His teeth graze your ear before sinking into the straining flesh of your neck, his voice a ragged whisper against your skin. “Take it. Where do you want it?”

Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open as you breathe out a tired, “Inside. Please.” He bottoms out and wrenches it from you—an orgasm so violent it has you screaming silently into the ceiling of his dorm room. It’s devastating, ripping away all muscle control as your cunt seizes tight around him, milking him without mercy. Your hands tremble, knuckles whiten as you struggle to hold yourself up, trying not to slump face-first into a pillow.

It’s all too much for Viktor. He falters, his hand slipping from between your thighs. He whispers your name distantly, voice raw, and ruts upward—once, twice—before spilling inside you. Hot cum floods every crevice, thick and unrelenting, leaking out even before he pulls free.

Everything melts into one—your shared breaths, the wet warmth between you, the sluggish rhythm of your heartbeats syncing. Viktor sits back on his heels and wraps his arms around you, nosing into your neck. Leaves soft, loving pecks there, trailing from your collarbone to your temple.

“You really didn’t know?” he asks quietly, his thumb stroking your lip.

You swallow against the dryness in your throat and chuckle. “Oh, gods, no. I’d like to think I have more decency than to drug you into this.” Your face tucks into his throat as you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I have never been more pleased about someone missing a variable,” he mutters, and he’s back—himself again. His hands are gentle as they cup your cheek, swiping away your worry. His lips are sweet on yours, licking the salt from your skin. What this little mistake has just opened up for you—you have no idea. But you can’t wait to find out.

#my writing #viktor arcane #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader #viktor x reader smut #viktor smut #viktor x f!reader #viktor x oc #arcane #arcane fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor nation #requests

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mocchiixxx · 2 months ago

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Unexpected Muse

(Woozi x Reader) Genre: Fluff, Humor, Accidental Genius AU

Summary: Woozi is struggling to compose a song, so he steps out for a break—only to return and find his girlfriend messing with his studio setup. What starts as harmless button-pressing turns into an accidental masterpiece, solving the problem he spent hours trying to fix. Now, he’s forced to admit that his completely untrained girlfriend might just be his greatest muse.

Woozi sighed as he stepped out of his studio, running a hand through his hair. He had been staring at the same melody for hours, tweaking every note, yet nothing sounded right. His usual creative spark felt dimmer than usual, so he decided to take a break— maybe a short walk would help clear his mind.

Meanwhile, you arrived at his studio, excited to surprise him with some snacks and moral support. However, when you walked in, the room was empty.

"Huh… where’d he go?" you mumbled, setting the food down on a nearby table.

Your eyes drifted to the massive setup in front of you— the soundboard, the computer, the keyboard, and… so many buttons.

Curiosity got the best of you.

Cautiously, you sat down in his chair, your fingers hovering over the controls. What is he working on? you wondered, pressing a random key. A low synth sound echoed through the room.

"Ooooh," you grinned. "This is fun."

One button turned into two. Two turned into five. Before you knew it, you were layering beats, adjusting volume levels, and even adding a random melody just because it sounded nice.

Was it good? Who knew.

Was it fun? Absolutely.

You bobbed your head to your accidental track, completely unaware of time passing—until a very familiar voice cut through your focus.

"...What are you doing?"

You froze.

Turning your head slowly, you found Woozi standing by the door, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. His usual unreadable expression was on full display, but his eyes were flickering with something unreadable.

"Uh…" You gulped. "Surprise?"

Woozi sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Please tell me you didn’t touch anything important."

"Define important," you said weakly.

He exhaled and walked over, taking your spot in the chair. His fingers moved quickly, clicking around the software. You braced yourself for a lecture, but then…

He stopped.

Frowned.

Replayed what you had done.

Again.

And again.

"...Wait." He leaned in closer to the screen, adjusting the headphones around his neck. His brows furrowed in deep concentration as he listened to your masterpiece for the fifth time.

You shifted awkwardly. "Sooo… is it bad?"

Woozi didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled out his keyboard and started playing along with your accidental melody. He added a few tweaks here and there, adjusting the tempo.

Then, out of nowhere, he grinned.

A real grin.

The kind he only got when inspiration struck.

"You just solved my problem," he muttered in disbelief, eyes locked onto the screen.

You blinked. "I—what?"

Woozi turned to you, his smile still lingering. "This. What you just made. It’s actually good."

Your jaw dropped. "Liar."

"I'm serious!" He laughed, shaking his head. "How did you even do this?"

You scratched your head sheepishly. "Uh… I just pressed buttons until it sounded nice?"

Woozi stared at you for a moment before letting out a deep sigh, amusement flickering in his eyes. "So, you’re telling me… I struggled for hours—and you, someone who has zero experience, just walked in and accidentally made something usable?"

You grinned. "Pretty much."

Woozi groaned, slumping in his chair. "I hate that this actually helps."

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Guess that means I’m your muse now, huh?"

He shot you a side glance, lips twitching into a small smirk. "You’ve always been."

Your heart did a little flip.

"Okay, producer-nim," you teased. "Let’s finish this masterpiece together."

Woozi chuckled, shaking his head before pulling you into his lap, handing you a pair of headphones. "Just… don’t touch anything without telling me first."

"No promises."

"You’re going to be the death of me."

"Yet you love me."

He sighed dramatically, but his smile gave him away. "Unfortunately."

You grinned. "Fortunately."

A/N: Woozi would absolutely be both impressed and so done if his girlfriend accidentally made a hit song. My mind just keep flooding with ideas so I have to craft them down.

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #svt #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt fluff #woozi #woozi x reader #svt woozi #seventeen woozi #lee jihoon #jihoon x reader #kpop #Woozi

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keferon · 6 months ago

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I just saw the post about Jazz not taking care of himself and all that, and with the doodle provided on that, i for some reason, have the mental imagine of Prowl now just holding Jazz on one hand while the tiny human sleeps there, and he's just working on whatever it is that he needs to work on with one hand

Because he got scared and now does not want to let go until he's sure he's ok.

There is no context, i just saw Prowl holding tiny Jazz and now my brain itches for more of that i guess.

THO SPEAKING OF WHICH (please excuse the rambling), but like when Prowl first finds out about Jazz actually not being a mech and just this tiny soft squishy human, who, in tfp Ratchet's words, can go squish under their pedes like, now constantly panics about Jazz possibly being hurt

And under no circumstances allows him to walk on the floors in fear he might, in fact, go squish. So everytime he leaves his suit Prowl has him sit by on the tabls or straight out just carries him (bring out that meme of Finn having a pocket for Jake)

Idk, the amount of funny scenarios of Prowl having to learn about how to be careful around a human is endless and i love it, and dammit your au has been stuck in my head i can't stop looking at content for it, it's making me go insane!!

Oh and to hopefully finish my rambling off, but add huamn adrenaline to the mix. Jazz getting severally hurt, but the adrenaline keeps him kicking for a bit longer, like bleeding out and a broken arm but he pushes through as if it were nothing....until they are out of danger and the pain kicks in. Prowl is none the wiser to his partner's injuries until the mecha suit starts to tweak as Jazz starts to let out pained screams, or small gasps of pain depending how much hurt you want him to be in, and then he pops out the chest compartment to reveal how much actual damage he took.

Ok this was supposed be a small "haha Prowl holding a sleeping Jazz" and it turned in to a full on yap session about very different ideas, hope you dont mind ^^;;

Just really love your au man...

YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ACTUALLY PREDICTED THE THING I WAS PLANNING TO INCLUDE IN MY THREAD :D

Like. Y E AH. Think of it. Fuckinb imaginb. Jazz falling asleep right where he was standing and Prowl is like. Okay I need to find some safe place to put this tiny guy because I don’t want him to get squashed right?? But he doesn’t really have a lot of options so he ends up just sitting and reading something from his datapad with one hand. And holding Jazz in the other. And it works perfectly because Jazz is small enough to fit in Prowls palm.

ALSO. A L S O

I imagine Jazz has magnets in the gloves of his suit. So! Not only Prowl can carry him around but also Jazz can just stick himself to Prowls plates haha

Prowl: Where tf are you

Jazz, crawling on Prowls back: I’m Spider man

Another Cybertonians react to this the same way people do when they see a spider on someone’s shoulder btw~

#mecha pilot jazz au #maccadam

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shimmershifts · 2 months ago

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how to shift:

method 3: lack of awareness

sleep method gang, rise up. i'm serious. these methods involves reducing your awareness of this reality (or any other) to zero, or as close to zero as possible. This is a potentially prime state to trigger a shift. and by sleep method, i don't mean lucid dreams or SATS, or other partially aware states. i mean having a period of complete unawareness, like totally dreamless sleep, and then waking up in your DR.

this is completely different from the state of pure awareness by the way, because in the state of pure awareness you are aware. like, in pure awareness you have a full train of thought and total control. the absence of awareness is the opposite. it feels sort of like a "blip" where reality, time, and space passed you by and you were not aware of it. this absence of awareness during sleep is (in my experience) the most common cause of accidental or unintentional shifts, but you might be one of those who can trigger a shift to desired realities with this too.

sleeping is not the only way to get to the state of the lack of awareness. i'll cover a sleep method below, and a few other methods with tips and tools for how you might be able to use the state of lack of awareness to trigger a shift.

method 3(a):

sleep method

now, there are lots of sleep methods out there, some with complex routines and rituals, and some as simple as "go to sleep and hope to wake up in your DR." the sleep method here will be shimmer's sleep method, ie, if i want to use sleep as a shifting method, this is what i do! feel free to tweak or adjust the steps to suit yourself. i think of my method a lot like setting up dominoes, and then knocking the first one down right before i fall asleep. if all goes well, the dominoes will fall just so to trigger a shift to my DR while im totally asleep, and i'll simply wake up there.

step one: repetition

throughout the day, i want you to think about two things, a dozen times. 1) shifting, and 2) your DR. now, you probably already do this. you're a shifter, you're on shiftblr, you probably already think about shifting and your DR daily, so maybe try to change up the way you do it to increase the chances your brain is triggered to process that in your sleep. this step is also not necessarily about imagining shifting or daydreaming about your DR, though you can do that if you want to. it's about deliberately thinking about shifting, and your DR, at regular intervals. you don't need to do it constantly, but i'd recommend around a dozen times. this number is often recommended to those hoping to trigger a lucid dream, and the concept is the same: the more regularly you think about something while awake, the more likely you'll think about it while asleep too, as your brain processes those memories and thoughts while you sleep.

step two: saturation

do your usual bedtime routine, whatever it is. now, before you go to sleep, i want you to saturate your awareness (which is currently in your CR) with your DR. do this however you want, i do it in different ways each time, it's really best to pick something that feels natural to you. if it feels like homework or boring or stress, you're naturally averse to that, so pick a way you like. scroll your pinterest board, review your script, rewatch your show, imagine your DR, etc etc. the goal here is just to get your CR brain, and your awareness, to soak up thoughts and visuals and words about your DR.

step three: visualize

now you're laying in bed, about to go to sleep. i want you to create a short visualization sequence (remember, visualization does not just mean actually seeing images with your mind. think about it, pick other senses to visualize, monologue it in your mind, tell yourself about it, imagine it.) so, anyway, visualize yourself falling asleep in your CR, and then waking up in your DR. it should be a fairly short sequence, like you're visualizing about 10-30 seconds of time passing. think about how it feels to fall sleep here, and then how it feels to wake up there. pick one or two things about each moment to focus on. once you have this short sequence, repeat it about a dozen times. repeating this single, short sequence is key.

step four: domino

you decide what your domino is. as you're going to sleep, do something to trigger that "domino effect", and remember your goal is to fall asleep in your CR. so don't pick something that keeps you up. maybe get into a light meditative state (that's my preference,) maybe you like to repeat a mantra, maybe you want to get into hypnogogia for awhile, maybe you're a sleep paralysis enjoyer (i fear you, tbh). maybe you just roll over and fall asleep. whatever it is, remember your goal is to fall asleep, not to shift from that state, so don't stress yourself out or keep yourself up. everything you've done so far has been to prime your brain to trigger a shift during sleep, while you're not aware, so don't lay there waiting for the shift to happen or for signs of a shift. don't strain or agitate. the point is to not be aware of the shift when it happens!

step five: wake up in your DR.

if it didn't work, try again, or try a different method!

method 3(b):

meditation: "blipping out"

now, most of the time i see people talking about "blips" or "blinking out" or losing awareness or time when meditating, they see this as a mistake or mishap because it's happening while they are trying to get into a different meditative state, like pure awareness or focus 10 or something else. this method is ideal for anyone who this happens to, and it's a way you can use it instead of trying to work against it.

step one: visualize

before you meditate, i want you to create a short visualization sequence (remember, visualization does not just mean actually seeing images with your mind. think about it, pick other senses to visualize, monologue it in your mind, tell yourself about it, imagine it.) so, anyway, visualize yourself "blipping out" while meditating. how does it usually feel to come back to awareness? visualize that "coming back" moment happening as your DR self in your DR, instead of here. visualize "blipping out" here, and coming to awareness there. it should be a fairly short sequence, like you're visualizing about 10-30 seconds of time passing. pick one or two things about each moment to focus on. once you have this short sequence, repeat it about a dozen times. repeating this single, short sequence is key.

step two: blip out

whatever meditation or method you've used in the past that cause you to experience a "blip" in awareness, use that again. if it's never happened, try a few different ones until you find one that works for you. the last step was about priming your awareness to come "back" to your DR, so hopefully you do!

method 3(c):

severance method

the name is tongue-in-cheek, this could just as easily be called the adhd method, the trigger method, etc etc. this method doesn't require any meditation, or reaching a different state of awareness. the goal of this method is to hopefully catch your CR brain unawares, and trigger you (awareness) to shift when you (CR self) has forgotten to resist. if this method works for you, then you will shift while totally awake, and doing something entirely mundane in your CR, and potentially when you've forgotten entirely that it was even supposed to make you shift.

i think the severance show is a good way to humorously exemplify the goal of this method: to set a specific "trigger" (place, action, etc) to signal your awareness to shift. if you haven't seen it, in the show the characters awareness is triggered to switch to another identity when they descend or ascend the elevator into work. you can pick anything as your trigger, but personally i recommend picking something you do several times a day, up to a dozen times per day. you could pink something you do all the time, like blinking, but i think that could be strenuous to commit to or you'd end up forgetting to actually do the method each time.

step one: pick your "trigger"

this could be anything, but i'll list a few recommendations: every time you plug your phone in to charge, ever time you open the bathroom door, every time you sit down, every time you go up a set of stairs, every time you turn a light off, etc, etc. pick one that works for you.

step two: repetitive visualization

now, pick a time period. it could be a day, i'd recommend several days or a week. every single time you're about to do your trigger (ie, before you sit down, before you flip the light switch, etc) visualize yourself doing the trigger, and then becoming aware in your DR. create a short visualization sequence (remember, visualization does not just mean actually seeing images with your mind. think about it, pick other senses to visualize, monologue it in your mind, tell yourself about it, imagine it.) like you're visualizing about 10-30 seconds of time passing. pick one or two things about each moment to focus on. repeat it right before every time you do your trigger action.

step three: stop

now, hypothetically there's the chance you get triggered to shift just from step 2, but you don't necessarily go into it expecting that. as this is a lack of awareness method, the goal is to prime your brain and awareness, and then stop. after you pass your time window you set before (a day, a week, whatever) you don't have to visualize every time before you do your trigger action. hopefully, when you're not thinking about it, your awareness will be triggered to shift out of habit. if after a few days, a week, or whatever time period feels right to you you're never triggered to shift, then either try again, or try a different method!

troubleshooting:

similar methods: as you'll likely notice, the above methods have a lot of similarities. honestly, most shifting methods are very similar, and they are often quite similar to lucid dream methods, which are often quite similar to study methods, which are often quite similar to- you get the picture. the point is, the things we can do to trigger our brains to remember and do something we're not consciously fully aware of are often quite similar.

not working? try adding some of your own tweaks, mix up a few methods, or add some other tools. check out this post on what triggers a shift for ideas for what to add, and how.

#reality shifting #shifting community #shiftblr #reality shifter #shifting #desired reality #shifting motivation #how to shift #shifting methods #shifting guide #lack of awareness #sleep method #shifting meditation #meditation

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