#i should feel okay exploring what i feel not ashamed

[detectivestucks2]

Toji as an Affair Partner

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: F!Reader x Toji

Warnings: NSFW, cheating, public indecency, bondage, oral (male receiving), aggressive sex, yummy

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Okay, so this one I went a bit overboard but, I just see Toji as a huge perv who's also super bold.

Affair Partner Toji who spots you when you’re on a night out with your girl friends. He can’t miss the way you smile. It lights up the room and draws him in like a moth to a flame.

Affair Partner Toji whose eyes drag along your figure, raking over your curves. He finds his lip is caught between his teeth as he imagines the things he would do to you, if given the chance.

Affair Partner Toji who eyes your wedding ring but doesn't care. He loves a married woman. They don't get clingy cause they're always too ashamed to keep talking to him after just one night of erotic fantasies come to life.

Affair Partner Toji who isn't surprised by your rejection cause that’s what they all say. He simply sticks his business card in your cleavage and walks away, muttering a ‘text me when you change your mind.’ knowing full well all you women are the same.

Affair Partner Toji who flusters you with his bold move, leaving a crimson blush across the apples of your cheeks as you avoid eye contact with your friends, all of them slack-jawed as their eyes flash between you and the retreating mountainous figure.

Affair Partner Toji who you text later that night after another fight with your husband. The jerk made fun of your body, again, poking your lower gut and telling you to lay off the calories. You're not even heavy, he just likes to bring you down cause he knows you’re out of his league. Even so, you can't shake the anger you feel and if he doesn’t find you beautiful, you know someone who does. 

Affair Partner Toji who responds immediately, not at all surprised that you reached out. You're predictable, just like the others. He’s fully aware of his appearance and guarantees your husband can't compare. After all, what bored wife wouldn't want a night of sexual adventure with a god?

Affair Partner Toji who gives you very specific instructions for the dress code of your date. Yes, a date. He clearly details what you should wear, something tight that doesn't limit his access, and unless you want to be bare-bottomed in front of the entire restaurant, you will not dare wear a bra.

Affair Partner Toji who you squeezed into a black mini dress for. The front has a plunging neckline, displaying all of your cleavage, rouching along the left side seam and a glittering short skirt that drops a mere two inches below the flesh of your backside. You lie to your husband, telling him that your best friend is having a work event and she invited you to be her date. The man doesn’t suspect a thing, even when he sees you without a bra underneath but, does make sure to get in a dig about your age and the fact that your chest isn’t as perky anymore…as if it’s a crime to be 30.

Affair Partner Toji who sees you pull up in an Uber and rushes to open the door for you, helping you out of the car as his eyes shamelessly explore the nooks and crannies exposed by your dress, drinking in your appearance as if you are a fine wine.

Affair Partner Toji who knows the hostess inside the restaurant, tipping her before she leads you to a back corner table, showing you to a luxurious leather upholstered booth where Toji insists on sitting next to you rather than across from you.

Affair Partner Toji who makes you nervous as his hand immediately grips the inside of your thigh while he orders drinks for the both of you. An act that would normally annoy you but at this moment, your mind is too preoccupied to think straight so you are grateful for his assertive dominance. 

Affair Partner Toji who drapes his humongous arm over your shoulder, his middle finger mindlessly circling your areola, steadily stiffening the nub at its center. 

Affair Partner Toji who makes your breathing shallow without even trying but he can tell something is off so he asks you what’s wrong.

Affair Partner Toji who you confess to that you don’t always feel the prettiest because of the remarks your husband makes about your body. While Toji doesn’t necessarily care about trivial things such as insecurities, or marriage, he does recognize that you gave him an excellent opportunity for a little torment.

Affair Partner Toji who traps your peak through the fabric of your dress, tugging till he sees your face scrunch up in discomfort. “Do you think that I’d be here if you weren’t pretty?” He begins to roll the nub between his pointer and thumb causing you to squirm in your seat. “Do you think I’d be touching your tits if they weren’t perfect?” He punctuates his question with a harsh slap to your chest before recapturing your nipple. “Do you think I give a fuck what your husband believes?” His grip becomes so harsh that you cry out. Wetness between your legs begins to gush out, the intense teasing doing something to you that you just can’t explain.

Affair Partner Toji who didn’t actually bring you here on this date to have a date; he brought you here because he loves the thrill of public foreplay.

Affair Partner Toji who digs in his pocket and pulls out a chain with two clips. Your eyes nervously dart around the room, looking for the wandering glances of nearby strangers. Toji on the other hand pulls out your chest from your dress, one handful at a time, like it’s the most routine thing in the world. You turn to him in panic, pushing his hands away to which he casually grasps your neck applying pressure, your chest bare for the entire room to see. He silences your protest with a small squeeze of warning, his voice rumbling in your ear, “Resist and you’ll pay for it later. Do you understand?” You’re stunned by his audacity but it’s the most exhilarating thing you’ve ever done in your life, made even more exciting by the fact that this man isn't even your husband.

Affair Partner Toji who traps your sore buds in clamps before tucking them away in your dress, making you suddenly very aware of how the fabric rubs against them.

Affair Partner Toji who allows his hand to wander under your sparkling skirt, each touch driving you mad with lust, all of it pooling in the fabric of your thong. “Hands behind your back.” he orders, the tenor of his voice alone, adding to the attraction buzzing between your thighs. You obediently follow, wondering just how far he was going to take things.

Affair Partner Toji whose dexterous fingers slip your panties aside so that they may feel your sopping hole, sinking in to the third knuckle before withdrawing completely and feeding it to you. Your cheeks, already an impossible crimson, spread their flush all the way down your neck and to your sternum as you hollow your cheeks around the digit.

Affair Partner Toji who lightly slaps your face once his fingers are clean thanks to the thorough work of your tongue, before revisiting the paradise under your hem just as your waiter returns with your drinks.

Affair Partner Toji who denies you a sip until you have had your precourse, instructing you to get on your knees under the table and drink from his fountain. “It might take some sucking, Princess, but there’s plenty waiting to satisfy your thirst.”

Affair Partner Toji who has you freeing his sizeable manhood, letting the appendage thud against this pelvis before gripping it in your small hands. In awe, you glide your thumb over the engorged head, slick with pre, before licking your palms and running them up and down his length, the rush of excitement running up his shaft all the more obvious within your grasp.

Affair Partner Toji who has you bobbing up and down beneath the table, taking him down your windpipe like the good little slut he’s forcing you to be. You haven’t done anything like this in so long that you’re both out of practice and out of breath.

Affair Partner Toji whose hand pushes down on the back of your head, forcing all of himself down your throat to silence your slurping noises while the waitress drops off your food. She doesn’t take notice of your empty seat but does give a flirty smile, to which he winks as if you’re not below the table with his dick stuffing your face.

Affair Partner Toji who lets go and allows only a second of reprieve before he’s shoving you down again, ordering you to play with yourself till he cums. Your fingers travel between your legs, circling around your nerve bundle as you take every inch he gives you with your mouth. Your throat flutters with your excitement, each stroke building upon the last.

Affair Partner Toji who all out fucks your face, not caring how loud it is or how obvious he’s being. He chooses this back table for a reason and he’s not going to apologize for his motives. His hot ropes spring into your throat as you twist on the floor, bringing yourself over the edge from the sheer detached abuse. You aren’t a date, you’re a toy, and something about that satiated all the pent-up need that you didn’t realize was collecting in your body for years. 

Affair Partner Toji who looks down at you, viewing your slightly glazed-over eyes and wiping the drool spilling from your lips. “Swallow.” Your throat bobs as you obey. “Now you may come up and join me.” You slide back into the seat of the booth, fixing your hair made messy by Toji’s hands, praying that it’s not too obvious what you just did, however, the pesky chain connecting your breasts is rather obvious through the tight fabric and you long to take it off. “Don’t you dare.” he threatens as he catches your eyes wandering down.

Affair Partner Toji who allows you to finish your meal and orders dessert to-go but as the waitress boxes up the dish and returns with the staggering bill, pulls one last trick from his pocket, cuffing your hands behind your back and hiding the evidence by draping his coat over your shoulders. 

Affair Partner Toji who doesn’t give a fuck that you’re married. He walks you through the restaurant as if he owns you, guiding you to his car where he opens the door and buckles you in. He then pulls down your underwear and pulls out your breasts, clamps and all, for the ride home.

Affair Partner Toji whose member stiffens in his pants when you’re stopped at a red light. The men in the car next to you are staring at your chest through the window, your eyes staring straight ahead in shame. “Let them see, baby. Everyone deserves a peak.” he coos as you look to him with pleading eyes. His thumb casually grazes the sensitive skin causing you to flinch. The men in the car next to you laugh, their own pants tightening at your whorish display.

Affair Partner Toji who finally gets you home, the seams of his pants straining from how hard he is. He rounds the car and opens the door, leaning down to unbuckle you. “Time to open up.” he says, lifting the links between your chest and resting them in your mouth. “Close” he states as you bite down on the silver before he tosses you over his shoulder as like the spoils of war, your underwear slide down to your ankles, caught only by the straps of your heeled shoes. 

Affair Partner Toji who slaps the flesh of your behind on his way to the bed, the excitement overwhelming him. He is sooooo ready to bury himself in your gummy cavern, his member is practically pulsing from the anticipation.

Affair Partner Toji who lays you on the bed, instructing you to let your special little necklace go and use your dirty mouth to wet him. He bullies his way past your lips the second they open, once more cutting off your air supply and making you choke. 

Affair Partner Toji who plunges between your legs, watching how your face morphs into an expression of pure pleasure as your weeping little cunt is stuffed with his size. He begins to lightly stroke, taunting you as he admires how your essence glistens around his shaft. 

Affair Partner Toji who has you squirming beneath him, feeling crazed by his relentless teasing as his languid strokes don’t quite satisfy what you need from him. 

Affair Partner Toji who stills himself, earning a whine from you before he cruelly removes the clamps from your sore buds. The lift in pressure is painful, causing you to constrict around him as you yelp. His pointed tongue drags over the area, so sensitive from the prolonged abuse that your back snaps into a bow while you continue to close in around him.

Affair Partner Toji who is spurred on by how tight you are, clearly underused by your husband. He begins to pound into you with impressive speed as you lay on your back, helplessly restrained, while he steadily folds you in half, more and more.

Affair Partner Toji who flips you onto your knees, your face squishing into the mattress, nearly breaking your neck from the power of his thrusts. While he enjoys playing this little game with women, something about the way you wrap around him feels so good that it makes him painfully hard, even now as he fucks you into the mattress.

Affair Partner Toji whose strength makes for unimaginable stamina, the extreme pace and power of his thrusts continue for a relentless amount of time.

Affair Partner Toji who picks you up like you weigh nothing, and continues to drive in while supporting your entire weight. Your cuffed hands straining against the metal, desperate to steady yourself instead of being tossed around like a ragdoll.

Affair Partner Toji who throws you back on the bed, your ass high in the air as your knees come up to your ears, just to stuff you from above, jackrabbiting into you till your legs shake from compounding orgasms.

Affair Partner Toji who pushes you beyond your limits, overstimulating you and degrading you for being his little nympho, his fingers exploring your sensitive spots, whirling around your clit like it were a joystick, causing you to spasm within his grip.

Affair Partner Toji who lays you back down, his mouth wandering your neck, chest, and ribs, kissing each part of your skin with buttery soft lips that leave tingles in their wake and cause you center to flutter.

Affair Partner Toji who finishes with punctuated thrusts, dizzying your mind and causing you to see stars. Your breathing comes ragged and your cries are loud.

Affair Partner Toji who paints your chest with his spend before dipping his finger in it and feeding it to you for a second time.

Affair Partner Toji who cleans you up and releases your cuffs. He brings the dessert in the to-go container over to you, two forks in hand, so that you may share the treat in bed together.

Affair Partner Toji who pretends to be your Uber driver when he takes you home. He carries you to the door and hands you off to your husband because your legs are rendered useless and you both have to play it off like you got too drunk at the party.

Affair Partner Toji who smiles to himself when he sees that your husband looks nothing like him yet feels a pang of possessive jealousy that he’s never known before.

Affair Partner Toji who was your standard fuck boy but woke up praying you’d messaged him between last night and this morning. Something about you is setting up camp in his mind and he can't shake this feeling that you should belong to him.

Affair Partner Toji who wears a shit-eating grin when he sees that you’re already begging for more.  

[delirious-donna]

I Will Possess Your Heart [Nanami Kento]

an: I started thinking about Curse User!Higuruma and naturally that led to me writing... Curse User!Nanami (why am I like this?). I haven't explored this AU for him before so please be kind <3

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: dub-con (reader is willing but the warning is there so take it how you wish), Curse User AU, slight yandere behaviours, toxic traits, spanking (with open palm), unprotected sex, thoughts of baby trapping, breeding kink

Masterlist

For weeks you had been on edge. Conscious of the impossible presence that seemed to lurk in every shadowy recess, the malicious whisper of laughter on every breath of wind and the scent of someone who was long gone. Were you afraid? You should be, but you weren’t. 

In the back of your mind, if the faint traces of Cursed Energy that you sensed before disappearing as quickly as they emerged were real, it meant that he wasn’t dead, that he hadn’t been captured and executed as you had been informed.

Satoru swore he was dead, that you should put him out of your mind and move on. Especially after his betrayal, after his bloody rampage that took out more sorcerers from the three big families than any Curse User in the past twenty years. Yet, you loved him. Grew up standing right beside him until… 

Kento snapped.

You shook off the feeling of unease that had followed you around all day like a personal spectre, finally kindling the sense of security that came with approaching your apartment. It was new to you, decked out in the highest-grade security equipment that money—specifically Jujutsu High’s money—could buy.

Whilst it didn’t quite feel like home, at least you were protected. You waved at the guard posted in the entrance hall, smiling when they blushed and turned their eyes from you, a scowl creasing their brow. Shaking your head in humorous exasperation, you travelled the remaining distance to your front door with the tension of the day melting from your shoulders.

Little did you realise that the precious bubble of safety you believed yourself to be protected by was about to pop like a thorn piercing an overinflated balloon. 

Kento observed from the shadows, watching, seething. They’d moved you. Lied to you. Kept his name from caressing your tongue, and he had more than had enough. He hated the games played by the higher-ups of the Jujutsu world, hated the politics and strategic alliances of the big three families which were no more than thinly veiled facades to cover the knife in the back that was around every corner. Power play far worse than the corporate drudgery he had tried to escape to, though he was ashamed to admit how long it took for him to finally open his eyes to it all.

They deserved what had transpired. He would ensure that the pain he inflicted would only be the first taste of his retribution. Hate was too emotional a word to use for those he considered to be less than human, and it was his mission to be the one to eliminate them all. Perhaps, Suguru had been right all along.

You were the exception, the one and only person he wanted to protect from the white-hot fury that poured through his veins like magma spewing from an erupting volcano, its path steady and devastating. He was still furious, and rightly so. The second you turned your face from his, he felt the last shreds of his bruised heart wither in his chest. You turned to Satoru and Shoko instead of moving towards him. You chose to remain in a world that cast him out, that actively tried to hunt and bring him down. 

He refused to believe that you had picked them over him. No. You were bewitched by the six eyes, hoodwinked by a false narrative that they were the good ones, and he was the monster. Kento couldn’t blame you, he had believed the lies for just as long and it was only now that he stood on the outside, peering in, that he could recognise the lies for what they were. 

It would be okay. He would enlighten you. After he punished you.

The front door unlocked with a quiet snick; the interior bathed in cool darkness that held no hint of the impending situation. Your fingers instinctively found the light switch, flicking it once and then twice when the bulb didn’t flare to life as it should. Click click click. Had there been a power outage? No, the neighbouring apartments were as well-lit as normal. 

Something crunched underfoot when you stepped deeper into your apartment, and that was when you realised the trap you had fallen into. Only then did your nose inhale the warm scent which had plagued you for all these long weeks, the rich aroma of expensive coffee mixed with leather and spices you couldn’t name. Only now did it intertwine with coppery, bitter notes of blood and the unforgettable reek of death. An impossibly hard body slammed into your back, sending you tumbling forward and only just catching yourself before your knees slammed into what you now knew was the broken glass of the bulb above.

The bodily contact lasted all of one second before he disappeared again. Your eyes had yet to adjust to the pure darkness that no longer felt comforting, and fear kept you from bathing yourself in the brilliance of your Cursed Energy, certain it would only help him target you all the quicker. Instead, you slapped a hand over your mouth to silence the sound of your breathing, crouching into a defensive position and fumbling forward. You weren’t as intimately familiar with the layout of this apartment as you were with the one you had lived in prior. All you could do was control the pulse of fear thrumming through your body and ignore the competing reaction that spoke of hungry anticipation. 

Kento smirked, head canting sideways whilst he watched you flail pathetically. If you wanted him dead, then he would already be a corpse on the floor, but that would never be the case, would it? His eyes had long adjusted to the absence of light, gaze following you around the room as you bumped into furniture and flinched at every touch. He could smell the terror escaping your pores. He could almost taste the frantic beat of your pulse on his tongue. Patience wasn’t a new concept to him, but right now... he found his fingers flexed deep into his thighs.

He waited until the kitchen island was at your back, stepping with silent footsteps around you and leaning back against the granite. You moved in a slow, perfect circle with your arm outstretched. Your fingertips came within an inch of grazing his abdomen, but alas, his calculations were as perfect as ever. When your back was to him once more, both arms shot out to tug you with one forceful effort into his chest. You struggled; arms pinned by your sides, but his hold was impenetrable as it always had been.

“Kento?” 

Kento laughed and even to his ear it sounded cold and devoid of emotion. “A silly question,” he answered. His voice was rough, unused for many days and the effect resulted in a ripple of something unspeakable down your spine, dripping—dripping—until you swallowed harshly and tried to twist your head around to see him.

“I think not... that luxury will be earned. I didn’t take you for such a silly girl,” Kento mocked, tightening his hold on your biceps until you squirmed in painful discomfort. “But then again, I didn’t take you for someone who would abandon me, and I was proven wrong there.”

You felt the temperature of his body skyrocket. His essence crept into you in every imaginable way, tendrils of his fiery anger licked against your bones and whilst you wanted to sob at this unexpected reunion, the rational part of your brain roared to life. He left you! He abandoned his friends and colleagues. He broke the hearts of the students who looked up to him, and yours... your heart hadn’t even begun to mend. The relief you should have felt for knowing what that poor shell of a heart had done all along, that he wasn’t dead, was a secondary reaction.

“I didn’t abandon you. How dare you say that... I thought you were dead!” 

“Did you now? I guess I should add stupid to your list of transgressions, or perhaps gullible would be more fitting. Since when did you take everything the six eyes tells you as gospel?” Kento gripped your chin with finger and thumb, the scent of his skin so close to your nose that the salty tang invaded effortlessly. With one fluid movement, he wrenched your head around and pressed a hot kiss to your lips.

The action was so unexpected that you gasped into the depths of his mouth, lips parted in surprise and Kento refused to miss the opportunity to let his tongue curl past your teeth and stroke along the pink muscle he had long admired and desired above all else. He tasted like coffee, nothing to be surprised by, given his penchant for the most expensive French roast. What did blindside you, aside from the kiss itself, was the sweet caramel that chased those bitter notes. Even now, the mellow caramel burst upon your tastebuds and brought an abundance of saliva to your mouth. The kiss was heady, all teeth and tongues, until it ended abruptly, and you were shoved forward.

It was a well-aimed push to propel you over the seat of the kitchen stool, and he smiled when he heard the air knock loose from your lungs. Before you could brace your arms onto the plush leather padding and try to stand, he moved up and let his heavy palm rest at the back of your neck, squeezing firmly. “Hold onto the legs of the stool, let’s see if you can redeem yourself.”

Did you wish to redeem yourself? Did you even believe you had anything to atone for? Shockingly, your hands trailed lower until your fingers curled around the cool brushed metal. Your heart was in your throat. Tears threatened to sting your eyes but only the desire to grit your teeth and prove that you were still the woman he had once trusted above all others outweighed your loyalty to the people trying to protect you. Keeping you in the dark was no protection, it was no life to lead when the man at your back no longer looked upon you with that crinkle of warm hazel eyes that you loved.

“There’s a good girl. I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking with the right incentive,” he cooed whilst leaning over the curve of your spine and planting one wet kiss to the juncture between your neck and shoulder. With his lips so close to your ear, a rumble of laughter was followed by words you never dreamed of hearing from him. “Imagine how receptive you’ll be when I fit my cock in your pretty little cunt.” 

Happy with your position, and certain you weren’t going to go crashing to the floor, he let his hand loosen from your neck and traversed the path of your spine. His fingertips grazed over every bump and ridge beneath the thin material of your blouse until his palm found your backside. He pawed at you once, filling his broad hand with the meat of you and imagining himself doing this to you on both sides without the barrier of clothing in his way whilst his heavy cock sawed between the cleft of your cheeks. There would be time for that, all the time in the world if he had his way.

Your eyes had finally adjusted to the lack of light, the shapes of your apartment now visible and yet you chose to squeeze your eyes shut to it all. It heightened your remaining senses, the even breathing of your captor injected with muffled little noises of satisfaction when you complied without question. His hand rounded your hip, kneading you before searching for the button and zipper of your trousers. At that, your eyes flew open, and a startled squeak escaped your tight throat. It didn’t deter him—oh no—if anything he delighted in your reaction, slowing the descent of your zipper so that every scrape of metal against metal as the teeth released tore at your nerves until they were frayed.

“Lift,” he commanded, crouched low at your feet and tapping your ankle until you did as requested and your trousers were divested of you completely. The air-conditioning was conveniently not on, leaving your bare legs to feel prickly and clammy with the warm air permeating the room and worsened by the heat of Kento’s hands as they slid from heel to backside. 

He hummed when they reached the waistband of the black thong which did so very little to cover your modesty. You wriggled, experiencing the weight of his hungry stare and clenching your thighs together in the hopes of hiding the small yet very obvious damp spot on the cotton. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have said you were expecting my visit… you wouldn’t let anyone else see these, would you?”

Rough calluses scraped your soft derriere, toying with the fabric that disappeared between your cheeks and cupped your beautiful sex. You mewled out a ‘no’, readjusting your hold on the legs given how sweaty your palms had become and basked in the answering grunt of appreciation when your backside swayed in nothing but pure temptation. Kento wanted to rip apart the threads holding him back from you, to take out his cock that had been pulsing for release since before you even entered the apartment and force your walls to accommodate him. Fuck… he would envelop you in him—only him. 

Rub his scent right into your untainted soul until it was soiled just like he wanted. 

Paint your womb with his seed with the chance of it taking. His eyes rolled over at the thought alone.

Later.

He would see you ruined beneath him soon enough, he merely needed to get your punishment over. Kento needed to hear your apology—heartfelt and sobbed through a veil of tears. Without warning his palm reared back and with the sound of a whipcrack he brought it down against your right cheek. You struggled, bucked at the impact that forced your eyes to bulge and your throat to convulse. Only his palm at the middle of your back kept you in position.

The pain was not as immediate as you assumed it would be. It was more the startle of having it happen so unexpectedly that kicked you into action, on the heels was the warm tingle of your backside. Pulses of pain moved outwardly from the impact site like a stone causing ripples on a calm lake. “Ken—"

“Uh uh. This is not time for speaking,” he chided with a click of tongue against perfectly white teeth and a tone that silenced you instantly. “This is the least you could endure after you ripped my heart out of my chest and crushed it beneath your heel. Ten. That will suffice, and then we can converse like proper adults. Until then, the only words out of those pretty lips are going to be the number we are on.”

He didn’t even wait for your reply, knowing that you would take whatever he chose to gift you like a champ. You were strong, always had been, and this was nowhere near enough to break your spirit. Kento didn’t want that, he wanted the real you that he had fallen for all those years ago as an emotionally stunted young man. You would come to understand his point of view when presented enough evidence and he had stacks of that to show you. Not now. Later, he thought again. So much had to wait but patience was his forte. 

Standing to his impressive height, he skimmed his palm over your tender backside and let out a bark of laughter when you tensed, waiting for what was to come. He waited until you relaxed, listening to your breathing mellow before delivering a short, hard smack to your left side. “Good girl,” he murmured thickly when you hissed out a ‘two’ from between clenched teeth. 

Kento was painfully hard; the length of his cock pressed stubbornly down the leg of his trousers to lay trapped against his thigh. His every inhale was like a knife to his groin, every squeeze of the muscles in your backside was a torture that he was inflicting upon himself. He twitched, precum dribbling down his thigh and turning the golden hairs of his legs sticky and wet. He would see this through. It was for the greater good, of that, he was convinced.

The repetition was agony. A vicious cycle that felt like it would never end though you had a target so close yet so far. A wealth of salty tears sprung from your eyes, falling to the floor to gather as a pitiful little puddle given the gravity of your head and body. Blood rushed through your ears; the pounding of your pulse nearly loud enough to drown out the weight of the smacks levelled against your arse. The plump tissue ached endlessly, throbbing to its own beat and it left you trapped inside your head. 

This was Kento—your Kento—delivering a punishment he deemed necessary, and you poked at his earlier words. If you were honest with yourself, you had suspected that the attraction between you was a mutual one and that the feelings ran deeper than either of you was willing to admit. You pondered how you would have felt if he had been the one to turn from you, taking the morality of who was wrong and right out of the equation, you would have been devastated.

Noiselessly, you wept for the connection you had lost all those months ago. You should be repulsed by the blood that stained his hands, but you couldn’t find it in you when all you wished to do was pull those bloodied hands to your mouth and suck the fingers between your lips. How badly you wanted to hear him groan in pleasure, to cup your face and drag his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip until it bounced back into place. 

“Ten…” 

Kento’s harsh breathing became apparent, the sound building in your ears whilst you dared not move an inch. Sweat caked your skin—hot and uncomfortable—it slid over the natural dips and curves of your frame, and you knew your face was warm enough to cook eggs. Your fingers slid against the metal legs resulting in a loud squeak and you winced… waiting, suspended in a moment that couldn’t last forever, the spell would be broken but by whom?

The rustle of clothing popped the bubble you were both suspended in, the telltale jangle of a metal belt buckle and stammered curses brought your focus behind you, your head turning to find Kento with an expression you had never seen before and undressed from the waist down. He looked like he was ready to explode. A thick vein popped from his temple, throbbing against the etched scowl and snarled mouth. You moaned and his eyes snapped to you, lips curling back from teeth to show you the ferocity firing through his veins.

Without a word, Kento moved you, so you were bent over the kitchen island, and you sighed from the reprieve of the awkward position you had been forced to hold. The buttons of your blouse skittered across the kitchen tiles when two powerful hands fisted either side of them and ripped it open. His mouth and hands were everywhere and all at once.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he admitted. Wet kisses decorated the side of your neck, lips moulding over your pulse and humming happily at the frantic rhythm that mirrored his own. The brush of his bare thighs against yours elicited a guttural groan, taking the opportunity to reach back and scratch at the rough undercut at his nape, fingers delving into his hair and pressing him deeper into the crook of your neck whilst he marked you as his.

“…’m sorry, Kento. Please forgive me,” you sobbed brokenly, completely torn between burning joy and icy regret. An urgent hand pressed between your legs, thick fingers prodding and feeling the sopping fabric slick with arousal and sculpted to the molten heat of your swollen lips.

“Fuck. Save your apologies. I’ll hear them later, preferably whilst you’re gagging around my cock.”

Your backside rippled from the impact of his pelvis slamming into you, pulling a pained hiss from your lips. Kento chuckled darkly, the heat of your abused flesh warming that part of his soul that refused comfort until this very moment. He had no time to spare to remove your underwear, having used up all his patience in the measured delivery of his hand against your perfect behind. Ignoring the sharp prickling sensation radiating in his palm, he simply shoved them aside until he could push his heavy cock through. He wanted to ask if you were this wet because of the spanking or if you were merely pleased to see him, but the beastly part of his brain was firmly in the driver’s seat.

He was merciless; kicking your feet apart to widen your stance, tapping the fat head of his cock against your swollen clit and roaring in triumph when you pushed back against him. One second, he was teasing you, the next he was notched at your cunt and shunting himself forward. Kento gripped your hip, pulling you back whilst he worked inside, and the stretch was exactly what you expected. Every inch tickled your insides, thick veins stark and massaged by gummy walls made to take him.

“That’s it… there we go. God, look at you. Your pretty pussy is sucking me in… mm, more? All yours, sweetheart.” He crooned his lust-roughened rhetoric, and all you could do was hold onto the counter so your knees wouldn’t give out entirely. They shook with the force of his thrusts whilst he held you so tightly as if he worried you would slip through his fingers again. Not a fucking chance. You were his, and he wanted you to know that.

“Mine,” he growled, spittle flecking your shoulder as he bent over your body and bit into your tender skin. You howled, a mixture of pleasure and pain lighting up your insides. Stars winked in and out of your vision and you danced on your tippy toes as an orgasm near forced him out of you. If not for his determination to remain in the heart of your body, abusing the soft tissue near your belly, you would have expelled him with the force of your release.

Kento crowed like a maniacal king. Fucking you right through your high without a care for the overstimulation that left you whimpering and drooling onto the granite countertop. Your cheek pressed against the cool surface, eyes flickering between open and shut as you fought the desire to pass out. The pressure of your pulsing walls, the suction of your cunt drawing him back inside each time he pulled back was his undoing, and although he had planned to cum down your throat so he could see your tear-stained face, he couldn’t pull out. His balls drew close to his body, the familiar drip of impending release stirring at the small of his back but so much more intense than ever before. His head was thrown back at the first spurt of seed exploding outward to knock up against your fertile womb with only thoughts of what it might be like to have your soft stomach grow with his child on his mind.

Never had he produced so much, and he wondered if he had been saving it up for you. A ridiculous thought had he been in his right mind, but you both knew that wasn’t the case. His hands gentled, bruises forming the pattern of his fingertips marked your hips and waist. He smiled, the first true smile in what felt like forever. Soon he was laughing, and the jostle made you moan out, his softening cock twitching in your cunt and tickling you.

“I think I am more than ready to hear your apology, little dove.”

And you were more than ready to give it to him, after all… Kento possessed your heart.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

I have been thinking a lot about blood bending lately and why the writers decided to go with the storyline of it being banned. I personally do not think it should have been. Like any bending form it can be used for awful things or it could be used for great things (my first thought is always in a medical sense but I’m sure there are other uses). And then I started to wonder if part of why they did that is bc that storyline was connected to Katara more than anyone else, and maybe this was a way to sideline her/focus more on Korra and the new gang instead of exploring with the older characters along with the new ones. But I was wondering if you had any thoughts on it!

hi anon! Sorry for getting to your ask a little late. I was at music camp (okay it’s a professional development program for musicians but I think of it as music camp in an effort to remind myself to have fun) and it was a big challenge since I’m chronically ill and needed a whole apothecary of meds to get through it. (I’m fine now! But needed to pace very carefully before & after and therefore stayed away from Tumblr)

It’s absolutely weird to me that bloodbending is singled out in a world where people can literally steal breath from one’s lungs, but it’s even weirder to me that they had a whole “ban bloodbending” storyline and sidelined Katara, because like…in what world would Katara feel strongly enough about bloodbending to ban it, yet do nothing to enforce the ban? The only explanation that makes sense is that she banned it because she was so ashamed, and stayed away from all the stuff around Yakone et al because she couldn’t bear to be reminded of what she’d done. And like all interpretations of canon Katara in LOK, that is just horribly heartbreaking.

I don’t begrudge the creators for wanting LOK to be about the new generation and I don’t mind seeing the Gaang play second fiddle. But I do object to the creators putting Katara in these situations where she could something in her wheelhouse, that’s in-character with her skills and ambitions, that is in line with her cultural impact as a role model for girls…and then sidelining her. Yakone is a big example, obviously, but so is Katara’s lack of involvement in the Civil War, the Red Lotus kidnapping, etc.

Like you said, bloodbending is useful in terms of the medical implications, but I also think it’s a humane tool in battle as long as it’s only used to incapacitate and not control. I can’t think of many better ways of incapacitating an enemy without causing serious damage (it’s even more efficient than chi-blocking!). If a bloodbender can stop encroaching enemies in their tracks with a flick of their wrist — well, that actually seems more humane than freezing them into ice cubes, which is the go-to waterbender move. I mean, Katara stops Hama with bloodbending in The Puppetmaster; she doesn’t actually control Hama with it. It’s terrible to override people’s bodily autonomy and make them do things they don’t want to do, but that is a very specific use of bloodbending.

I do think, though, that Katara is not the type of person to recognize all the other potential uses of bloodbending unless someone prompts her, and unfortunately that person is not going to be Aang. It doesn’t help that Katara’s first experience with bloodbending is being stripped of her own agency; similarly, it becomes her go-to weapon when she encounters (she thinks) the person who made her feel the most powerless in her life. To Katara, bloodbending is about taking power from someone else…and on her own, she’s not likely to see other applications. Katara is an excellent fighter with a lot of raw power, finesse, and creativity, but she’s not actually all that in-tune with her element, and I think that’s another reason she was never very interested in healing in canon (Katara and waterbending could be a whole other meta). Katara would’ve been an equally excellent bender no matter which element she wields, unlike Toph and Aang, who are uniquely suited to their elements. Katara borrows a lot from the more aggressive forms of bending (fire and earth): grabs people with water tentacles, hits them with ice disks, overwhelms them with big waves. For all that waterbending is about going with the flow and using the opponent’s strengths against them, Katara doesn’t exactly exemplify that philosophy (unlike Aang, btw, who is more intuitive as a waterbender than she is; that is why he picked it up more quickly at the beginning). She addresses all her problems head-on and is more likely to meet them with raw power than anything else. If I were to guess her astrological placements, she’d be an Aries Mars, minimum, if not an Aries Sun as well (she’d be a Cancer Moon though…I have Thoughts on ATLA astrology lmao).

Anyway, all this to say: I don’t think Katara would’ve thought of the healing implications of bloodbending on her own, when she’s already been traumatized by it, and that’s pretty tragic tbh. I like the Zutara interpretation of Zuko inspiring Katara to think there are other uses for bloodbending (as a wielder of a potentially destructive element), but I think Toph could’ve had a conversation with her about other uses for bloodbending as well, since Toph is really creative with earth. Actually, I think Zuko or Toph or Sokka could’ve all had a conversation with Katara about coming to terms about doing things that one is not proud of & moving past them, but I guess Katara can only follow the rigid moral code of her Do No Wrong boyfriend. Anyway, LOK’s despicable treatment of ATLA’s female characters is nothing new, but Katara’s is the most obvious and egregious because she’s actually there. We have no idea what happened to Suki or Azula or Mai or Ty Lee, and what we do see from Toph is not great either (in what world would she retire to be lonely in a swamp when having her friends meant the world to her…). All the boys got to have cool fulfilling lives and all the girls who aren’t lost to history are sad sacks, thanks Bryke! On a non-sarcastic note, thank you anon for such an interesting question!

[seraphimaa]

Give me Raphael who, under the endless bravado and cockiness, is deeply repressed and virginal.

Idk, maybe in devil culture he’s discouraged from exploring his sexual desires because nobody wants the shame that would be brought by his spawn and who would lower themselves to sleep with a half mortal/half fiend? Even if they did, why would he ever trust that their intentions were not to cause harm and chaos to him? That’s the belief he lives by and we see so many outlets for it in game. The kinky punishments for debtors, the obsession and torture of Hope, and even the Glug Glug 9000 that was gifted to him, because daddy knows that Raphael is being driven around by his cock. Raphael, I think, appears deeply uncomfortable and ashamed of his sexual needs and I think Haarlep’s comment of “he only loves himself” is true, but not just due to narcissism. He could fuck anyone, or anything, with Haarlep but I think, instead, he needs familiarity and the only thing he can be vulnerable in front of is himself. And not only that, he doesn’t see it as a time to exercise crazy desires but it needs to be methodical and controlled. Safe. Comfortable. Predictable.

So imagine, along comes this little mortal and like so many times before, he starts the dance he has done so many times. They blush when he says the right things, they hang on his every word, and they look at him with such longing. They are exactly where he needs them, and expects them to be. They’d fallen for the act and he was in complete control.

Until, all at once, he realises he isn’t.

Give me Raphael who has never known anyone’s tender touch but his own, but who can’t stop thinking about how yours would feel late at night or while playing with Haarlep. It haunts him and he hates himself for it.

Give me Raphael who starts to dare to imagine, as much as it tortures him, that someone could actually be his. He had caged the mortal parts of himself up so tightly but the need for someone who was made of the same wretched stuff as him, that could really see him and love him never goes away. Someone to share his empire with who would never betray him or disappoint him and who would would devote themselves completely to all that he was. It was lonely always being in top, he would come to admit.

Give me Raphael who for the first time in his life, starts to show himself to you bit by bit to you and you never shy away, despite all the parts of him, from the gentle to the downright depraved and animalistic. He has no clue what to do with this acceptance. It was a foreign thing. Something not meant for him. Give me Raphael who hates you for all of this. He knows your game. You’re trying to get to him and he will lot give you control. He starts feeding that depraved voice inside of him. All the things he would do to you. How he’d punish you and make you regret feeding the mortal inside of him, through the bars. You saw the him inside. Your understanding of his weaknesses is what you’d use to destroy him. He’d protected it all so well but this would be his undoing. His solution of denial and hate had never failed him, so far, so he’d revert to what he knows

Then…

Give me Raphael who, when you crawl unexpectedly up and onto his lap one evening, kissing and sucking at his neck, can do nothing other than pant and shake at your touch, blushing like a virgin. You’d be so soft and gentle and his ears would be filled with ringing, his own breathing, and your cruel voice, telling him to ‘just let go’. ‘It’s okay’. This moment would be devastatingly painful and euphoric. You’d finally done it. You’d ripped away the last of his control and power. You had finally reduced him to nothing - pathetic and whimpering. You’d bested him and he should have been drowning in the humiliation and shame but holy fuck it felt so good. For you, he’d slowly learn to share his control, sometimes. You were so gentle with him. Your soft hand would teach him a different way to tame the beast inside.

Look I’m an exclusive bottom, but shy and inexperienced Raphael who is putty in my hands? Bark bark bark bark

[bwabys-scenarios]

Anything for his mission

Camboy!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: consensually filming sex, handjob, mentions of pregnancy/breeding

A/N: Feel free to send camboy!Kurapika requests! Also, I posted this in my discord months ago. If you want to see more stuff like this, you should join! Here’s the link

taglist: @desiray562

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

Kurapika discovers that side of the internet one night when he’s researching a paper trail of some person different social media accounts.

He’s absolutely mortified at first. Immediately he’s shutting his laptop and glancing at a picture of you he keeps on his nightstand.

Kurapika hesitantly opens the laptop back up, sighing to himself. ‘I’ll just check out the information on that account then delete my search history.’

He doesn’t even know why he’s embarrassed and ashamed, it’s not like you and him are together. Why would you care if he’s visiting some adult website? He’s nearly 20 for gods sake!

He searches through the account, not finding anything to interesting… except that the person has a type.

Skinny blonde boys.

Kurapika blinks. The person he’d been researching had multiple pairs of the scarlet eyes, and so far he hadn’t been able to find any weaknesses in the persons defenses.

Maybe Kurapika would have to get creative…

You blink when Kurapika comes home with a box, not letting you look inside of. You become curious when he locks his door, leaving a “do not disturb” sign on the handle.

This curiosity peaks when you’re searching up some porn to get off to tonight. Despite your embarrassment, you look up people that look similar to your long term crush, Kurapika. He was just so pretty to you, after all, and you couldn’t get off if the person didn’t look like him :((

As you search one night, you come across an account with an awfully familiar username.

“Pika”

You stare at the name for a second, nearly laughing at yourself. “There’s no way, Kurapika would never-“

You click on the profile, and sure enough, from the lips down is YOUR Pika, sat shyly on his bed, jerking off.

He looked stiff, robotic almost. He couldn’t be enjoying himself, and you could see it in the uncomfortable grimace he was making.

The comments were telling him pretty much the same thing.

“Aww, come on pretty boy, give us a smile.”

“You look uncomfortable af”

You sigh, pulling your hands from your panties. Your poor, poor Pika. He had to be doing this for a reason, and it obviously wasn’t for his own pleasure.

You tiptoe to his room, thanking god that he had left his door unlocked. His back was turned from the door, and using In you were able to sneak up behind him.

“Pika, baby, let me help.”

He gasped when he felt your lips on his neck, the blondes face turning a dark shade of red. “(N-Name)!”

“I saw you were live. You know, if you asked I would have helped you out.”

He gasped when your hand wrapped around his length, thumb brushing against his tip. “Poor, poor Pika. Not used to jerking off, huh? Lemme help you feel good.”

The comments come pouring in, but neither of you cared. “Shh, just focus on how my hand feels, okay?”

He whimpered, and you kissed him, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth.

It didn’t take long for him to cum, painting his chest. You kissed his cheek, giggling at his spent expression.

You glanced at the comments, giggling.

“Oh god that was hot!”

“DOMINATE HIM!”

“I love blonde twinks”

“pretty cumshot 😩”

Kurapika cleared his throat, catching his breath. “Th-thank you all for coming.”

He ended the live stream, glancing back at you shyly. “I can explain.”

“You don’t have to, Pika. It’s none of my business what you do with your body.”

You kiss him again, this time the blonde realizes that you’re only wearing a pair on panties and a tanktop. His hands dip down to your waist. “I know, but I want to tell you.”

You sigh. “Sure, go ahead.”

As he shyly pulls down your panties, he continues. “Someone I’m trailing has… an interest in people that look like me.”

“Skinny, pale, blonde boys?”

Kurapika sighed at your words, pulling you into his lap. “Yes. And… I thought perhaps I could get closer to them through this… website.”

You hum, glancing back at his computer as you hover over his cock. “Why not livestream us having sex? That would get us a lot of views, possibly draw in the persons attention.”

He frowns. “I would prefer to keep love making with you intimate and in the bedroom…”

You cooed, kissing all over his face. “Aww, you’re such a cutie Pika. It’s just a suggestion, if you really don’t want to I understand.”

He held onto your hips, his cock twitching below you. “… if you think it’s a good idea, I won’t deny you.”

You laugh. “Alright. I’ll start the stream, okay?”

He nodded, barely holding himself back from pulling you onto his cock. The two of you had some sort of friends with benefits relationship that he wanted to take a step further, but was much too scared that you didn’t feel the same way he did.

“Hi everyone! As you can see, I’m about to get pounded by the lovely Pika!”

Kurapika turned red at your words, pulling you closer. “(Name)…”

He blinks, seeing the viewer count steadily rise. Kurapika does get a little pissed off at the comments, most of them talking about how much they wanted to fuck YOU.

“Ready, Pika?”

He growled, not giving you a second to think as he pushed your hips down. “Eep!”

Kurapika moved your hips up and down, moaning into your mouth. The chat was going WILD.

“YO don’t break her pussy bro 😭”

“twinks gone wild”

You gasp when you feel him pin you down onto the bed, glancing to the monitor to make sure you were still in view. Thankfully, Kurapika made sure neither of your faces would be visible, only your bodies.

“Love you… love you so so much…” he said as he pounded into your, occasionally dipping down to lock his lips with yours. You look up at him, face heating up.

“I-I love you too, Pika!”

Your words seem to affect him, making him go at an animalistic pace. Before long you can feel his cum filling you up, something he’d never done before. Kurapika had always pulled out, it was almost like he was telling you just how much he loved you by claiming your womb as his.

This continues for a while, Kurapika moving you into different positions, cooing soft praises into your ear and whispering ‘I love yous’.

Eventually the two of you collapse on the bed Kurapika reaching over to end the stream.

“Did… did you mean what you said earlier?”

He nods, pulling you into his chest. “Yes, every word.”

“Including the part where you were going to fuck me until I was pregnant?”

He stayed quiet, staring down at you with those pretty red eyes.

“Well… the thought of your stomach swelling with my seed, of you having my child…”

He kissed the top of your head. “It’s all I can think about.”

The two of you cuddle and fall asleep, forgetting about the whole reason you even started the stream earlier. Now, you were both ready to start a relationship, maybe even a family.

The next day, Kurapika is elated to see the person he’s tracking has followed his account.

“that livestream with the girl last night was hot! keep it up!”

‘It seems I’ll have to keep this up for a little while longer…’

If he kept streaming, maybe he could get closer to this person and get some valuable information…

He looks over to you, smiling as you make breakfast while he scrolls on his laptop.

“Angel, would you like to do another stream with me tonight?”

You turn, giving him a smile. “If it means I get to spend time with you, then yes!”

And he blushes, standing up to hug you from behind. “I love you…”

“I love you too!”

[thatpuppyboything]

[Part 1]

You've been my therapist for a few months now. As I got to trust you more, I started to talk in depth about my sexual traumas.

You've seen how vulnerable it made me feel to talk about it. You've been feeding of the details I gave you, how it happened, where, with who, and slowly you made a plan for how you were going to use it to your advantage.

At the beginning of one of our session, you ask me how all these traumatic experiences impact my sex life.

I tell you that I dissociate a lot during the act, that I feel out of my body.

“Do you ever touch yourself ?” You ask.

I look at you surprised and blush, nodding slowly.

“What do you think about when you masturbate ? What are the pictures that comes to your mind ?”

You see how I shift in my seat, how I become increasingly uneasy. You sweeten your voice and say, reassuringly:

“Don't worry, I ask that to help you. You can be honest with me, I won't judge.”

I stuttered and finally answer:

“You know, it's weird, sometimes I see myself going back to… these times… Like it turns me on.”

You smile. With a nod, you say:

“It's a fairly common reaction. It doesn't mean anything. It's a way of coping with these events.”

You look into my eyes, still smiling, and after a brief pause, you tell me:

“I want us to do a little exercise now. Tell me what turns you on in these experiences. Think of it as a positive reinforcement method.”

I blush more, my face burning hot. I feel so ashamed of this but I trust you, surely you ask me that to help me with healing from my traumas, right ?

“I-I don’t know… It’s the feeling of being posessed, the helplessness, it’s kind of… You know… If done in the right setting it can feel very good to just let go… Give up… And be used, in a way ? Gosh I can’t it’s so embarassing. Can we drop this ?”

I try to compose myself and hide my heavy breathing, but I’m bright red and a bit sweaty and look like I’m about to melt.

You say:

“That’s okay. How do you feel right now ?”

I swallow.

“I feel… Well, I’m a bit… Worked up, but I guess that’s normal because that’s not something you say to people and stuff… It’s weird…”

You smile at me.

“No, no, that’s not weird. As I said, that’s normal, that’s natural. Do not feel ashamed of that.”

Your smile disappear and it seems like you are choosing your words carefully.

“You know… I think that’s something you should explore, in a safe setting, it can really do wonders. A lot of people tend to reenact these traumatic experiences to take their power back, and to transform this memory of pain into pleasure. Maybe it’s something you could do ? Just like you touch yourself thinking about it ?”

I squeeze my legs together. I feel my cunt pulsating with everyword you say and my clit is erected and sensitive. It’s so hard not to pant. I look at you, handsome, so reassuring, so… safe ? But I know that’s a wrong thing to think about, you are my therapist, we have a client/professionnal relationship. Surely it would be a really bad idea.

[beastofburdenxo]

Just A Little Kiss

Reader is a bigger girl and self-conscious about a certain part of her body. Emmett, her new boyfriend, puts her fears at ease.

MINORS DNI one shot, 900 words. Tags: Language, pussy worship, oral sex F receiving, pubic hair. (Emmett is a fiend, and part of me is ashamed to have written this. But anyways...) @your-nanas-house @mrkdvidal1989

Emmett crawls up the bed towards you after you are all warm and dry from your shower. With your book to occupy you, you don’t expect to feel his hot mouth on your thighs. “What are you doing, Emmett?” you ask as he continues to pepper your legs with kisses. “Just giving my girl kisses is all.” he replies. You put the book down next to you, “Well come closer and I’ll give you kisses.” With your arms out to receive him, he shakes his head. “I’m not talking to you sweetheart, wrong girl.” As he moves closer and closer to your panties. It takes you a minute to get what he’s saying, and then it hits you as you quickly close your legs up tight. “No Emmett!” He chuckles at your sudden realization at what he wants. “But baby, she is just demanding me to kiss her, I can’t say no!” You pull your legs up closer to you. “I don’t care what she wants, I’m saying no!” You and Emmett have just started seeing each other and you are very uncomfortable with your body, at least a certain part of it anyways. Emmett moves up closer to you, whispering in your ear, “I think we should listen to her, eh? Just a peek? A small kiss to say hello?”  

You playfully shove him away, wanting to hide under the covers. “She’s lying Emmett, leave her alone.” He makes a sound of displeasure, “What’s wrong Babygirl? I just want to explore your beautiful body and make you feel good. Why can’t I do that, hmm?” He rubs your knee with his thumb, genuinely concerned at your behavior. Emmett adores you and he just wants to show you how much. “I-I-I just don’t want you going down there, okay? It’s all ugly down there, just leave it alone!” Tears are trying to invade your eyes. Emmett gently holds your face with his hand, blue eyes soft with concern at how you feel about yourself. “You are not ugly, you hear me? You are not ugly, you are not too big, you are perfect to me. Did someone tell you that baby? That your pussy was ugly?” You bury your face in his shoulder, not wanting eye contact. “He did, he said that it was too big and gross looking.” He is her mean ex-boyfriend who refused to go down there after seeing it for the first time. It wasn’t what he wanted, so she thinks all men think that way. “Well, he is an asshole, and he is very much wrong, sweetheart. Every inch of you is thick and wonderful, and I'm going to show you.”  

Before you can digest what Emmett is telling you, He has ripped your panties off. You squeal in alarm at being exposed. “It’s okay, I've got you.” You start to flail around in fear, but Emmett quickly pulls your legs apart and stills you with a slap to your ass cheek. “Now you kick me, you’ll be in big trouble little girl!” he growls, his voice turned deep and gravelly. He softly rubs your sides and hips, keeping eye contact even though you're open to him now. “There she is, easy now, baby. Easy.” You decide to keep still, not wanting to be in “trouble” whatever that means. He takes his eyes downwards, finally viewing you fully for the first time. His strong hand follows, gently petting the thick hair you have down there. Time has stopped, the only thing you can hear is your heartbeat and Emmett’s panting. “Fuck.” He whispers to himself, spreading your lips apart with his fingers. “Just perfect. Better than I ever could have pictured.” Emmett finally makes eye contact with you, pupils blown like he’s high on drugs. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and you ask, “Are-Are you drooling, Emmett?” He smiles, “Fuck yeah, I am, it’s delectable down here. How could I not? Everything is so kissable and suck able, perfect size for my mouth.” 

You turn bashful at his words about your most intimate parts. “So, it’s not too big?” Emmett groans as he continues to run his fingers through your soft bush. “Fuck no, and this here,” He gently pulls on the hairs, making you gasp, “Is just the icing on the cake, baby. I love it natural.” Emmett is now face to face with your pussy, nuzzling your thighs with his beard. “Shit you smell so good baby,” he mumbles against your plump thigh, “I could have a terrible day and all you’d have to do is show her to me, and it would make it all better. Fuck, I gotta taste you. Just a small kiss. Oh. please.” He moves forward, giving your big clit a gentle kiss, and then another, and another. Both of you moaning as he pulls a lip into his mouth to suck on like candy. “Emmett.” you whimper, previous fears gone out of the window. He stays down there for what feels like eternity, making you come repeatedly into his mouth, making you bite your pillow. Finally, he comes up for air, the blue in his eyes completely gone. His hair is a mess from your fingers, both beard and shirt damp from your juices and sweat. All he can do is smile at you, as he goes down for seconds.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

idk if this is something you would answer but how do you unlearn shame of being horny 😵‍💫

hi anon,

this is a complex question. unlearning shame of any kind can take a long time to sort out, and will be driven more by internal work you do to challenge and shift your own thinking than by anything else.

a good place to start may be by doing some reflection as to what you find shameful about being horny in the first place and working back from there to recognize sexuality and desire as morally neutral things.

for instance, I get a fair number of people asking if it's okay to think about real people that they know when they're horny, or masturbate to fantasies about those people. they feel a lot of shame about this, as if they're causing harm to these people by imagining them in sexual scenarios. but making up funny little scenarios in your head to nut to is a harmless act that only you will ever know about. it's not like whipping out your dick (gender neutral) and masturbating at strangers on public transit; what you do to get off in your private time only impacts you.

a problem would only arise if you decided to start treating your real, actual acquaintance, not the imaginary sexy version of them, differently, for instance by making untoward comments about their body, treating them as if they are obligated to be interested in spending time together or having sex with you, or, god forbid, telling them in detail about your sexual fantasies. now you're doing sexual harassment, which is inappropriate because of the hurt and discomfort is causes the recipient. being horny isn't the problem here, it's how you're treating another person.

people also feel a lot of shame around many other types of fantasies, especially if they involve dynamics that are off-limits or illegal in real life. often, the worry seems to be that being aroused by these imagined scenarios is akin to expressing support for these things to happen in real life.

listen: sexual fantasies about rape are some of the most commonly reported among cis women, and that's not because tons and tons of cis women secretly think that rape is a cool thing that should happen more. the people playing Baldur's Gate 3 and fucking Halsin while he's wildshaped into a bear aren't all chomping at the bit to commit a sex crime against a real animal. noticing that "teenage" characters on TV played by actors in their 20s and 30s are hot does not make anyone a pedophile. fiction is a safe realm to explore and enjoy things that we would never in a million years want to see happen in real life. I love Batman, but I can assure you I would not be a happy camper if a real-life billionaire started running around doing vigilantism in a fursuit while endangering a gaggle of teenage sidekicks.

and if you want to explore some of the stuff you're into in real life, awesome! great! there are ways to go about negotiating a lot of different kinks safely and responsibly (although probably not the bear thing, sorry about that). the world is full of people who want the experience of being stalked, beat up, kidnapped, and sexually assaulted - all mediated through pre-negotiated arrangements with people that they have chosen to enact these fantasies with them. so what is there to be ashamed of in that situation? sure, the situation you're engaging in might sound scary without proper context, but so do a lot of things. a stranger cutting open my skin, very likely causing bleeding, and leaving me with a mark that I'll have for the rest of my life sounds scary, and it definitely would be if it wasn't a situation that I agreed to! but that's also what getting a tattoo is, and that's an experience that I love so much that I pay for the pleasure. nothing to feel bad about there as long as you're playing safely!

listen: there's nothing wrong with being horny. the human sex drive is a completely natural one born from biological need that makes getting off feel good. there's no more sense in feeling shame about being horny than there is in feeling shame about being hungry or needing rest, although people do of course manage to feel bad about those as well. regardless of what causes it, when you feel the shame well up you have to push back on it and ask yourself who actually directly benefits from you feeling badly about yourself in that moment, and who is actually tangibly hurt by the actions you're shaming. and if the answer is "no one," move it along!

[sixosix]

I DRIVE DOWN DIFFERENT ROADS | S. HEIZOU

“you look so pretty,” the stranger with twin moles murmurs, “like it’d be a crime not to want you.”

or, you met a detective once on an unexpected night; fate decides that it won’t be the last time

tags cw drunk character, POV meet-cute and he makes a fool out of himself but u want him anw, drunk heizou, pre-relationship, bff!kazuha

a/n wc 1500, wow this is the longest i’ve written this month!

next part

inazuma wasn’t your first region of destination in mind when listing down vacation ideas. going on vacation wasn’t even on your to-do list—it has been that way for the past three years. 

“don’t be ashamed to ask. you know i would say yes,” yelan, your distant relative who is somewhat of a mentor to you, had told you herself when you briefly mentioned your plans.

yet as you trek through the dewy grass of chinju forest, you mourn all those years when you could’ve taken in inazuma’s sights much earlier when you needed it the most.

chinju forest is completely different from liyue harbor. it’s dim; the sun mysteriously never rises, and it’s filled with flowers—the same ones that glimmer so brightly that everything about the forest looks blue, overpowering the lanterns and candles spread throughout. and although it doesn’t feel like home, you wouldn’t mind spending a few months or so in here.

liyue harbor is always bright with splashes of color: bustling with merchants and tourists, with storytellers and friends you see on occasion. friends who wanted you to see the beauty of other places, too.

kazuha had let you in on his plan to return to inazuma for a bit to visit old friends—and since the traveler had worked the traveler magic on inazuma, too, it became safe enough for kazuha to invite you along with it.

it took some convincing and some restless nights of you imagining yelan saying no, but it turns out she is more than happy to send you off to another region, oceans away. says she could use one herself. and now here you are, freely exploring, taking in new, breathtaking sights, meeting new people, fawning over their food, realizing the world is much bigger than you thought.

and also stumbling into a drunk man tipping side-to-side as he weaves through the forest.

cautiously, you sneak behind a tree, watching the inebriated stranger walk like he’s about to twirl around, catch his own feet over his ankle, and fall face-first.

he looks young. if he were next to you in liyue they’d assume he’s exactly your age, with unruly hair and a short height. in the soft, blue glow of the forest’s fluorescent flowers, this stranger looks like the type of handsome you’ve read in books. soft, striking.

“who’s there?”

your eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. for someone barely able to walk a straight line, he’s able to sense your presence the moment your breath hitched; a concealed disturbance in the air.

should you leave?

unfortunately, the thought that kazuha would want you to guide this vulnerable man back to the city torments your conscience. even if you’re oceans away, protecting people and keeping them safe is still your duty.

with a sigh, you step out from the shadows, catching the way the man takes your figure in with squinted eyes. you respond with an inquisitive expression, and he stumbles nearer.

“there…there are— are they still chasing…?” he asks, and you first notice how he has a mole under each eye.

“chasing you? are you a criminal?”

“what….” he looks around, head spinning so fast even you got a little dizzy. “criminal? where?” he garbles, looking as if he’s a second away from throwing up.

“no, i’m asking you— ugh, never mind. who’re you?” you hold him up by the arm, feeling merciful. his weight suddenly doubles as he leans over you, leaving you no choice but to pin him against the tree to keep him from falling.

“the name— i’m,” he manages to say, his words sticking together stubbornly. “shikanoin…sharpest, most successful—”

“okay, okay,” you exhale loudly, not understanding a thing, “let’s just go back.”

“who are… you?” he asks, spitting the last word out, trying to mimic your tone. it fails miserably. his eyes widen as if he sees you for the first time. “oh, wow… you’re pretty. wow. where did you come from? why are you holding me up like this? are you weird?”

baffled by the onslaught of questions, you can only blink at him incredulously. “i’m not a weirdo! i’m trying to help you. you’re drunk out of your mind. and alone!” how did he even get here?

“you look so pretty,” he murmurs instead, “like it’d be a crime not to want you.”

this is getting nowhere.

you pull away in favor of checking if the stranger has anything of use to you. all you can note is a sheathed jitte, a particularly revealing top, and an anemo vision. he wavers again with the loss of your support, resulting in you reflexively reaching out to hold onto the side of his torso. where it’s bare.

“you— you like what you see?” he slurs, and impressively strikes a million-dollar smile despite the droop of his eyes and flush on his face.

“not at all,” you lie. “let’s get back to the city.”

you are, to be frank, tired and ready to slack off for the rest of the day, finding kazuha be damned. staying too long in chinju forest messed with your sense of time; you were expecting sunrise by the time you returned to the city, yet it had only just set.

( not to mention, on the entire way back, the stranger kept talking your ear off, going on and on about how extraordinary and young he is—how pretty you are and how mystified he is. you can guess what his role is here in inazuma judging from his jitte, though you hardly care about how his superiors belittle him and how he laughs in their faces when he solves cases they rip their “receding” hair off dealing with. )

men dressed in various shades of purple saw you dragging him and rushed over to you, crowding over and filling up the small circle with more stench of alcohol. they were all varying levels of drunk, which explains a lot of what happened to the one you met. one of them apologized profusely, though you weren’t listening at all, gaze caught on the way they dragged your stranger away, verbally assaulted with berating left and right.

they were holding him by the arms, looking too much like an apprehended criminal. all that you could think back to was the way he was staring intently at you, too, as if he can’t take his eyes off.

“he’s not usually like this.” the man apologizing is still talking, you faintly realize, zoning back in—yet your eyes never strayed, even as your stranger is far enough to be out of earshot. “he got too competitive.”

“it’s fine,” you say, clipped. “did he win?”

he blinks. “did he— sorry, what?”

“did he win?”

“...yes.” the man’s brows furrow, looking confused.

you bow in respect, smiling politely when your head tilts back up. “i’ll take my leave now, thank you.”

two days later

kaedehara kazuha sits on a rock, watching the sun rise in silence that you quickly disrupt the moment you spot the mop of light hair. he turns his head curiously, having noticed you before you even spoke.

“kazuha!” you exclaim, picking up your pace. “kazuha, there you are. i couldn’t find you at all yesterday. you should’ve seen it—gorou showed me some good views of watatsumi island.”

“i apologize…” he says sheepishly, and to his credit, he does look guilty. “did you have fun? a friend caught wind of my return and whisked me away before i could warn you.”

you laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. “it’s alright. it’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

“how are you liking inazuma so far?” he asks, shifting to give you more space.

you try to think back to the beauty of watatsumi, gorou’s enthusiasm, and kokomi’s hospitality, but all you can think of is luminescent flowers and twin moles and your hands meeting a bare waist instead of fabric.

“i met this drunk guy in chinju forest. he was just really weird, though, no one worth worrying over,” you recount, pointedly leaving out other details. “i helped him get back in the city. reminds me of what i had to do to you and beidou.” 

“sounds eventful,” kazuha muses, hiding a smile behind a leaf he had snatched out of the air. “where did you leave him off?”

“some guys took him. his co-workers, maybe. hope he doesn’t get fired, poor guy.” you’re starting to not like kazuha’s stare, like he can see the images you’re getting in your head. swiftly, you change the topic back to him. “how about you? what were you doing yesterday?”

“well.” he clears his throat, straightening. hesitantly: “you see—and please, hear me out before you say anything—this friend of mine wants to meet you. urgently, in fact.”

“in a few hours, if possible, he said.”

kazuha should’ve started the conversation with that.

a/n no way heizou fic No way...... no way!!! anyway this was actually rlly fun to write i love heizou so much i can only hope i do him justice in the next part where i have to write him in all his heizou glory </3 title is from ts song guess which one

[suzukiblu]

i want to write and post kinky things, but i can’t get past this base level of… shame, i guess. or embarrassment. or anxiety over judgement. it feels weird to ask just another blog, but yet i still am… how do you do it? did you have to get over the same thing? if you did, how?? sorry. i love your writing

You're good, friend, don't sweat it! ❤️ Honestly I don't remember if I was ever particularly ashamed or embarrassed by the idea of doing smut or not, but I WAS once ashamed and embarrassed by the idea of writing and posting things that I thought were too id-driven or too self-indulgent or just Too Much.

And then I thought, "okay, but if I'm not having fun and not being authentic and not doing what I want, what's the point anyway?"

So I just slooooowly step-by-step stopped reflexively reining myself in, and then I found out that actually the world is full of people who are exactly as id-driven and buck-wild as I am and they are both delighted and GRATEFUL to see my hyper-specific opinions about gender and yes they WOULD like to read about this character being the exact kind of queer I am interpreting them as and no there is NOT any such thing as "too much" hurt/comfort or too many fix-it AUs or too much focusing on your favorite character and yes they DO wanna see those kinks explored too; actually, you should probably write all your fave things a few MORE times and commit even HARDER this time. Like, the more niche and self-indulgent I get, the more enthusiastic and involved the people who read my stuff seem to get, in my experience. People LIKE the stuff I thought I'd get judged over. Like, a lot of people! Not EVERYONE, but still, way more people than I ever would've expected when I was regularly thinking "no one will like my stuff if I get too carried away and do what I REALLY wanna do".

I realize you're asking about specifically porn here, but that was sort of an overlapping thing for me in terms of the KINDS of porn I wrote, and like . . . I really do think making the things you really WANT to make is always gonna resonate harder than just making the things you think you're SUPPOSED to make.

I don't know if any of that was sufficiently helpful, but personally I always say you should just do what you want, in situations like these. You're not gonna be eighty and going "gosh I wish I'd had LESS experiences and tried FEWER new things!", you know?

(also if all else fails, there's always the good ol' "make a throwaway NSFW account to test the waters on your own comfort level and go from there" option)

[goodluckclove]

Talking to My Younger Self

Hey man, I saw those photos you posted on Instagram where you climbed up an overpass and through a hole in the fence to take pictures on the side of the highway?

Yeah bud, I don't think it's an issue of that being cool or not cool as much as. Like. Why? Safety aside, did you even enjoy it? Because the photo just makes you look tired and bored.

Oh you didn't smile on purpose. You're "too constantly distressed to smile"? You seeing your therapist soon? You should tell him that.

Your smile is fine, by the way. It's nice! Maybe you don't like it because it makes you look to happy and you consider that vulnerable. I don't know, man, it's a thought. You wanna see a picture of my cat?

You think you need to repress any attraction you have to non-binary people because you're ashamed of "being drawn to them as a gender they don't identify as"? Yeah, I mean, that's certainly a worry based in consideration. Have you thought about if there's - like - another reason behind that, though?

I just mean - you remember when you told me how wearing a binder and a makeshift packer "makes you feel like more of a woman"? Oh no, I'm sure that might be true for some people. But it might not be entirely true for - okay yeah we can change the subject. Sure, send me the new draft of your script. I'll read it tonight.

No, you had the right thought not doing that for your friend. I mean yeah, money is money. But accepting money in this particular case is absolutely a felony. So it's good you said no. Nice one, bud.

Oh yeah I got the picture of your new mini-fridge. It looks nice! I like the mural you painted on the door. You said you stocked it with food so you wouldn't have to get hungry when you're too scared to leave your bedroom? You said that really casually. Are you doing okay?

A four hour commute one way to get to a job is insane, Miranda. No, dude, that's entirely unreasonable. That's goofus shit. Don't do that.

Yeah I don't think using a newspaper you found at the bus station to roll a joint is cool. I think smoking ink fumes is probably really bad, actually. I also doubt you know how to roll a joint. Just a thought.

You got SALVIA? Who the fuck gave you SALVIA? I'm going to lose my mind you're fucking kidding me. Yeah, dude - it's legal, but you're on like six different meds you should not be recreationally doing a drug that makes people freak out and walk into traffic on the regular.

Your mom says it's fine and cool? That's - fucking hell. That's a crazy thing for a mom to say.

What? Your mom also says you only have to take your pet to the vet when they're sick? That's probably because she can't afford regular pet checkups but still wants to keep adopting dogs to neglect. Nope - too harsh on my part, ignore me. Uh, you have a job now, so maybe look into pet insurance. You should get your cat a checkup.

You're fucking kidding me. I'm sorry, uh - why do you think a doctor would get mad at you for going to get yourself a checkup? I get your mom said they'd claim you were "wasting their time", but explore this with me. They're doctors, dude. If they get mad at you asking them to do doctor-things during their designated doctor-ing time that is probably a person that shouldn't be a doctor.

Also have you told your therapist this? Or your dad - or even your grandma? It might actually be a good idea to start fact checking this shit because sometimes people are wrong and at this point I do think your mom has actual brain damage. I mean between the ECT and the eating disorder and the pretty rabid history of substance abuse - you're right. We'll change the subject. I'm sorry. Cat video.

Riley says hi. I saw a bird on my walk today he seemed kind. You're working really hard, maybe you should take a break.

I think you're pretty cool, actually. You're smarter and nicer than I think you think you are. I do think you're entirely too trusting and that seems to get you in a lot of trouble but - I don't know. It might not be the worst thing in the world. It's a bit of a relief that you never were entirely cynical. Opening on good faith isn't always - hey, bud?

Pal? You're doing a felony again.

No, it's not legal. Your friend was either wrong or she's lying to you. No, this is actually a worse felony than the felony you avoided doing before. You should stop immediately.

That friend of yours is absolutely like a legit criminal by the way and you should probably stop hanging out with her.

[madamtrashbat]

I was chatting with a friend recently about the ways antis operate and how damaging their ideology is and I wanted to organize my thoughts about it.

It's one thing to be like "I wish minors wouldn't interact with my work because it's got adult content" (which is not something you can 100% control short of paywalling) but it's another thing ENTIRELY to be like "minors should never look at anything sexual ever and people who think it's okay that they do are secret pedophiles."

Teenagers need to have the safe space to explore their sexuality and figure their shit out and sometimes that place is fandom. Sometimes teens are trying to deal with the fantasies they have about their hot history teacher so they consume teacher/student smut in order to work it out. Sometimes they're wondering what gives them their jollies and are just reading whatever they can to wank to, including incest and rape and other "unsavory" things just so they can get it all figured out.

Sometimes awful things have happened to teens and they're using the avenue of art and fiction to take the power back from their rapist and create a narrative they control where they are working through it safely.

And antis would see all of this and want it fucking destroyed.

I was brought up in fandom by a few of the sweetest older women (adult women!) who took me under their wings and showed me that what I was thinking and writing wasn't bad or wrong or shameful and it was all perfectly sane to have these sexual feelings because nothing makes sense when you're a kid and if you want to write Frerard where Gerard is the hot teacher to Frank's catholic schoolboy in order to deal with your feelings about the sexy sub you just got at your school then that's totally fine.

These trusted adults also comforted me when I was afraid, taught me what boundaries were (please do not actually pursue the sub!), told me what were normal interactions and what I should be wary of (do NOT let the sub pursue you), and they were proud of me as I made my way into the world as a reasonably well-adjusted adult.

(Hi, Gaja, can't wait for your Christmas card!)

Sexuality is weird and messy and whatever makes our pants tighter is all individual and equally weird. Telling teenagers to not seek out porn and to not even speak to adults is just a one-way ticket to growing fucked-up people who don't know how to operate without shame and then we have a resurgence in Catholicism and NOBODY needs that.

And the way that antis rally against this, like teenagers are Pure and Sweet Babies who are being corrupted by the Awful Adults Like Me (who are secretly child diddlers obviously) is just. So fucking damaging.

Imagine trying to handle the way your hormones are firing off at everything and you're just not sure what's going on and instead of a kind adult going "hey we were all freaks at 16 and it's totally normal to be like 'this strange thing is turning me on' I promise" you have some sniveling puritan asshole going "YOU ARE ACTUALLY A SEXUAL PREDATOR IF YOU LIKE THESE THINGS AND YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED AND PUNISHED BEFORE YOU ACTUALLY HARM PEOPLE."

Like. Y'all. I have seen antis claim that people who wrote about/drew rape in order to deal with their own assaults DESERVED IT because they chose to deal with it in this way. I have seen antis tell people they hope they get raped for the fiction they create. They wish death and harm against people who make fiction. Antis literally have a body count over this shit. And yet they want me to believe they're the good guys? Bye.

Antis will argue that it's not normal for people to think about gross and icky things. I argue that Holocaust survivors had sexual fantasies about actual fucking jackboot Nazis.

No one says you have to like everything everyone else does. We have a robust tagging system for a reason. But to behave as if what YOU like is the only thing that is acceptable and everything else is Bad and Wrong is not the business. Kink Tomato exists for a reason. We are all individuals who like different things. Get with it.

Teenagers are in a precarious time of development and if you want to shame them for whatever is going on in their heads then you are the problem, not the solution. Be the kind of adult you needed as a teenager, not some shaming, screaming Puritan trying to pin scarlet A's onto everything because it's sinful. Goody Proctor is just trying to rub one out in peace.

Get with the way fandom has always operated or go away. ACAB means fancop, too.

[cuntftmtf]

Not Kink!

Hi so i just wanted to say, it's totally okay if you don't post it or don't respond in anyway. I guess I'm just in my thoughts or feels rn. But I just wanted to ask if someone else experiences this.

So I come on Tumblr and look at all sorts of shit and try and get off, you know? As most of us on this side of Tumblr do. I'm into a lot of different kinks, ya know misgendering, noncon, orientation play, etc. The roster, ya know? And usually it's great and fun and whatever, but I've noticed that sometimes, after I get myself off, my mood suddenly changes. The best way I could describe it is somewhere between post-nut clarity and sub drop, but closer to sub drop. Like I get off and suddenly I feel almost empty and not like myself and sometimes feeling depressed and self loathing. And I'm sure I'm not crazy, and I'm not the only one who experiences this, but I never see it talked about anywhere so I guess I just wanted to see if that was something other people experienced. And if you or anybody had any tips on how to handle it ig, idk it's rough in here sometimes.

Again, it's totally okay and understandable if you don't post this or respond. It's not your responsibility to comfort a complete stranger on the Internet. I just figured it couldn't hurt to ask

hey, first off i hope its okay that i'm posting this publicly, i think you said something really important and i think other people would benefit from seeing this too!

to start off, those feelings are totally normal and i've been there plenty of times. especially after taking this kink out of fantasy i would sometimes get uncomfortable, regretful, moody, etc.. you're engaging in dark and personal kinks that sometimes come from a conflicting place. it can be hard to reconcile getting off to things that are also uncomfortable and even triggering sometimes, and when you're suddenly no longer horny that can hit pretty hard.

i guess what's important to figure out for yourself is what's making you feel like that. are you ashamed? did you trigger yourself? is confronting you with your identity in a way you find uncomfortable? sometimes that post nut depression is just a physical reaction too, plenty of people feel inexplicably down after they cum. it's not strange and you don't have to worry about it. but i do find it important to determine the reason for it, because you could be hurting yourself by getting off to these kinks if it's coming from a not so healthy place. remember that kink should be a rewarding exploration and not an actual punishment for yourself.

as for getting past the drop, look up aftercare guides for psychological bdsm scenes. my main ones are:

have something to drink and put some sugars in your body so you get some energy back

provide yourself any kind of self care you like. that could include wrapping up in a nice blanket, asking a friend about their day, maybe taking a nice bath or shower, but can also mean folding some laundry or any other mindless little task you would feel better about if it was finished!

remind yourself that your kinks are not indicative of your value or morality, dark kinks don't make you a bad (queer) person, they're just a way to get your rocks off

put on a show or a podcast to take your mind off things if you find your thoughts are running wild

i hope you feel a little less alone in this experience! lastly, if you're playing with a partner who's into this type of thing, let them know when you need some extra care after a scene. don't just let them drop you if you need to come down gently.

[twistafr]

Screwed The Brew

another tedxschlatt smut fic, this time it involves sex pollen

Rating: Excplicit Word Count: 10,464 Summary:

Schlatt groans, hanging his head low to hide the way he rolls his eyes with frustration. His patience is thin, after all, and he can feel himself becoming more and more embarrassingly needy by the second. And it's all because of some stupid accident, Ted says. "Fuck," Schlatt whispers.

"I, mean," Ted starts, shuffling around to retrieve something from his pockets, pulling out a small envelope about the length of a finger and a width of half of his palm as he holds it out, ashamed. "Okay. Okay," He steadies himself, gathering composure and tossing the envelope to Schlatt. "This is my fault."

Schlatt blinks, curious, and can momentarily ignore the aching hunger creeping up on him and he opens it, watching as two small and pink teardrop shaped seeds fall into his palm. "What the hell are these?"

Schlatt hovers around the brewing stand set up in the corner of his kitchen, watching the potion he's whipping up with interest. He examines it for a moment, the vibrant color of it, a flurry of pomegranate shades with a deep and rich swirl of red in between that isn't exactly mixing in with the rest of the substances, much like oil to water.

This specific potion is meant to energize his body for a while, give him stamina and such, and also squash out hydration. It's a perfect way to enhance his performance.

He's been looking at some recipes and trying to personalize them just a little bit more, like the bit of clementine juice he squeezed in to help with immune systems and such. There is, of course, mainly ingredients that hold magical elements. The usual tear of ghoul and eye of those really rare glowing frogs, the ones that shine a hazy blue at night, making them easy to see. Which is great for Schlatt- and also great for predators. It seems kinda like a reverse natural selection, as still they have yet to stop dragging attention to themselves as hungry birds, snakes, and other creatures in the area gather around.

It seems gross to have a bunch of stuff in the potions he makes, so of course Schlatt adds some real everyday flavors to make it feel a bit more natural when he drinks them.

He's even made some for his buddy Ted who is still standing behind Schlatt, five feet away, and blinking at him with an expression Schlatt can't quite place.

"Looks ready, don't ya think?" Schlatt asks, turning from the potion  to Ted who purses his lip as he thinks. He steps back with a shrug and has to duck from the cat that swoops from the rafters. Lot's of Schlatt's house is left exposed, and the kitchen ceiling is full of storage spaces and wooden planks that his cat loves to explore. The feline's made it his territory, as one time Schlatt was simply trying to retrieve some cinnamon and the cat pawed at him aggressively. Of course until he realized Schlatt would be out of his fur within a few seconds, only then was Schlatt able to grab what he needed. Right now, the cat's just toying with Ted, swatting his hair with a paw and backing up to cover with an almost teasing meow.

Schlatt laughs with amusement as Ted moves to fix up his hair. "He's playin with ya, you know?"

Ted glances at him for a few seconds, then sighs as he crosses his arms. "I know, Schlatt. Now what are we planning for dinner?"

Schlatt hums, not actually even thinking about it as he twists his body back around, watching as the potion pulses with a faint yellow all around the edges. He squints, it's probably that golden lemon he put in it. He faintly thinks about deigning Ted an answer as he gazes over the potion, distracted in his words. "Uh, dunno, just go through the cabinets and whatnot. But hey, this potion is a new one. You should try it with me."

Ted shuffles over to the farthest counter and quickly shakes his head, as if he must put some space between him and the concoction Schlatt's just brewed up. "Pft, sure, man. I'll try your strange magical liquid-but I won't. Man, it's all yours."

"Rude." Schlatt notes, but can't get another word out before Ted chimes back in, holding a hand up hesitantly.

"But, yknow, don't take that as a command to just chug it down, now." Ted tilts his head, lips stretching into an uncomfy smile like he's trying to make a joke but can't find any humor himself. It makes Schlatt move to fully face him, raising an eyebrow in growing confusion. There seems to be something he's missing here. It's just his luck Ted likes to be a cryptic son of a gun and only tell the whole truth once it's too late. "We should really eat first, don't ya think?"

Schlatt squints at Ted, trying to read his face but he fails as the man looks away too quickly.

"What is it?" He asks, hoping he can get a more straightforward answer some time soon. Now is not soon, sadly, as Ted waves his hand.

"Nothin, Schlatt. Nothin." He lies, Schlatt knows he's lying. So he glares as Ted swings open a cupboard and groans when he pulls out a glass jar of cherry reserves, setting it down on the counter below and making another noise when he pulls out a pouch of tree nuts.

"Do you have anything to make an actual meal with, man?" He complains and Schlatt rolls his eyes at the dramatically grossed-out face Ted makes at the container of honey and jasmine tea bags.

"Those were a gift," Schlatt says with a scowl, pointing at the jar he holds them in. "A gift from an elderly lady who- and this is true- was very pleased to have somebody living nearby. She loves me."

Ted snorts. "Yeah, yeah, and I bet you love her. You weirdo."

She is a nice lady, but dear heavens no. Schlatt makes a yakking noise, hanging his head for the act. "Puh, no, you freak. You wish."

"Schlatt." Ted makes a face and Schlatt just points at him.

"You wish I loved some old lady so you could make fun of me," Schlatt says confidently before whipping around, back faced to Ted. He plants a hand on his knee as he bends, holding the other out to the glass potion bottle as he taps it. "Now you can go to the stupid market and get some food while I test this baby out. Or you can stop complaining and wait for me to hand ya some food."

Ted's movement pauses behind Schlatt and he looks over his shoulder to see Ted abruptly divert his gaze, busying himself by placing all the jars and such he got out back into their respective spots in the kitchen.

He slams a hand down on the counter before quickly lifting it back up and shoving it into his pocket, pulling out some money. "Right, then, you ass, I'll go buy some food for us."

Schlatt huffs, sending him a look of disapproval and a childish stuck out tongue. He doesn't watch Ted return the immature move, but instead shifts his fingers to twist the potion loose from the stand. Ted pats down his pants, coming to a slow stop as he clears his throat.

"Just- uh, don't try the potion without me."

"Thought you didn't want nothin' to do with it." Schlatt shoots a glance at him, raising an eyebrow in suspicion, lips tugged into a slight frown. Ted of course, doesn't give a damn when it comes to making actual sense, so he just nods.

"Sure," He says, nonsensical, then waves. "I'll be back- wait for me."

Schlatt can't even respond before Ted is leaving the kitchen, crossing through the archway and out the living room, sneaking a hand into the dining room where an empty bag rests on the table. He grabs it then heads to the front door, which he slams behind, shouting out a careless sorry and carrying on his way.

Schlatt huffs, a little annoyed, and eyes his cat. "That guy sucks."

The cat meows back but not in agreement, so Schlatt dismisses him.

"Oh, you just like that he gives you way too many treats," Schlatt defends, watching the cat jump down to the tiled floor of the kitchen and stretch. "He's the reason you can't fit into your favorite hiding spot anymore, hope you know."

The cat doesn't particularly care of course, so Schlatt doesn't bother wasting anymore time now that Ted's gone and no longer able to waste his time.

He takes the potion from the stand, observing it before running his finger along the rim of the bottle. Its scent drifts up and he picks up some familiar aspects he remembered using to curate the whole thing. He swishes it a little, watching the pink pomegranate shades fuzz together. Strangely enough, white particles start forming, glowing and entracing, Schlatt doesn't exactly know which combined ingredients caused it, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't look both appetizing and remarkable.

He thinks he really is mastering the craft of potion brewing, this might become the most effective one yet, as its physical appearance is enchanting to an all new level. He can't wait for the performance boost it'll be sure to grant him. 

He lifts it to his lips, watching the liquid rush down the bottle. It tastes like a delicious assortment of citrus fruits and a little bit of cocoa in the after taste that is joined by a more earthy flavor, making him furrow his brows at the new recipe he's trying.

Overall, it's a pleasurable way to gain an extra periodic boost to perform whatever tasks he needs handled.

He takes a swig of it before fetching a cork lid and shelving it with his collection of other potions. Healing potions, good luck ones, all the jazz.

Schlatt is walking out of the kitchen when he has to pause. He can feel a sudden warmth belonging to the potion as it settles in his stomach. He reaches for the bookshelf, hanging his head and trying to compensate for the surprise sensation, steadying himself.

"Weird," He comments. Then Schlatt moves on.

He wants to test out it's supposed effects, moving to an open space in his living room between the bookshelf and the couch, feet against the rug he recently bought. It's strange, though, how he can start to feel the imperfections and ridges within the fabric, like his awareness has been dialed up a smidge. It makes it a little odd as he attempts to test out his stamina, doing various exercises and then sitting down. He smiles when he realizes he isn't as worn out as he would be.

So he sinks back into the furniture of the couch, proud of his work. He blinks, looking out the window to his right, eyes latching onto a branch getting gently rattled by the wind. He watches the movement, distracted, and only snaps out of it when a sudden wetness hits the top of his hand. He snaps his head down and pauses, confused when he realizes it's a drop of water.

Or, well, sweat, he thinks, feeling a wave of heat wash over him quicker than he can react. He's actually very hot, he notices. His shirt sticks to him, incredibly uncomfortable as he reaches for the collar with his fingers and when they graze over skin he frowns at out excessively warm his skin is.

The hell is this?

The back of is neck is covered in sweat when he smooths his hand across it, instantly pulling his hand back and blowing out air to try and cool himself off. Schlatt's forehead is beaded with sweat, and when he goes to stand up for some water, his vision goes hazy and he slouches back into the couch, legs getting overtaken by a faint and foreign feeling.

Schlatt, confused, lifts his arm up, finding the action a little slowed down. Which is ridiculous, because the potion is supposed to enhance performance. Obviously. He squeezes his eyes shut as another wave of heat is dumped all over him, and this time it stays, looming, the intensity never dying out. The tips of his fingers buzz, a weird sensation that he tries to ignore as he pushes off the couch, wanting to stand up.

But his legs move as if he's stuck in a thick sludge, slow and inefficient. They're wobbly under his weight and he groans with frustration when he is forced to give up and sit back down. The sudden drop sticks a rock in his stomach, heavy and obnoxious. But of course, Schlatt has no idea what is going on, so he is thrown off guard when his stomach tightens into knots, exploding with a burning sensation, and he rolls into himself with a hiss of discomfort.

The temperature of his body is very concerning, he knows, but he can't seem to shake any heat off, like he's trapped in a furnace with no way out, flames pressing onto each side of him. His stomach, all tangled with a messy feeling he can't quite place, unravels itself and seemingly spreads to his whole body, making him sag against the couch with panic.

"What the fuck-"

He needs help, clearly, and he thinks about Ted, how far he possibly is, when will he be here. He invisions Ted walking through the door- his stomach stings suddenly, face flushed as he puffs out air, his insides overheating.

Thinking about Ted might have been a bad thing to do, he comes to realize, as everything increases and he picks up an ache in his chest. When he pays attention to it, he hurts, only noticing where when he glances down, going still at the sight of his erection.

"Shit," He mutters, then shuts his eyes tightly when his dick practically pusles, and he can feel along with it a deep yearning that stems from his chest. He needs. He has no idea what but he just knows he does.

It seems that now that he's acknowledged his dick, it demands more of Schlatt's mind to divert it's focus, as it essentially thrums, begging for any sort of contact.

He huffs out air, attempting a laugh while all to breathless for it to actually sound like one. "There's no way," He gasps, shook by the way his voice sounds, all weathered, raspy, and wanton.

There's no way this is the potion he made. One that... A potion that has him painfully fucking hard.

But he's popped a boner by doing absolutely nothing and his head is starting be swarmed with thoughts of a very obvious, very clear, very definite solution most men conclude to when they find themselves with a hard on.

He wants to deny all of it, wants to fight against whatever stupid shit this potion is doing to him. But it gets difficult, it gets gradually more hazy in his mind, ideas and thoughts blurring from tens to no more than three, all of it mixing in his head lazily.

Schlatt asks himself to name three vegetables and fucking fails, only managing to whisper an airy 'pepper'.

He probably would look insane if somebody was here right now.

But he doesn't care, can't care when he the thought of Ted resurfaces and his resolve snaps, hand rushing down to fumble with his pants, coordination slipping away each passing second. Ted's lips flash in his mind, Schlatt's jaw loosens, mouth parted slightly as he rests back into the cushions, messing up his hair. He can't tell whether his hand or his pelvis burns the other more. Ted's own fingers pop up, mind slowly absorbing the thought, drinking it in as his fingers drift, past the pubic hair until-

"Oh my...." Schlatt doesn't finish the sentence, breaking off with a weak moan. His palm grazes against the side of his cock, lighting any and all nerves on fire, sensors going haywire, mind crumbling under pleasure. He's hooked.

He moves to discard his pants, shoving them down sloppily, hands trembling and mind easing into mush, making him clumsy as his hand slips. He decides letting the clothes pile up around mid-thigh is plenty of enough room, biting his lip hard at when the cool air hits his dick, bare and baffling, Schlatt still hasn't come to terms with what exactly is happening, but he's accepted it enough to give in and wrap a hand around his cock. His head falls back, he glances up at the ceiling and tries to keep quiet, finding the desperation that seeps into his tone a little embarrassing.

But, of course, he is desperate and when he begins to flick his wrist and start with his ministrations, he can't stop a needy whine from slipping out of his mouth, lips curving around the sounds of a man full of promiscuous desires, silently begging for them to be fulfilled.

 Schlatt is losing himself little by little, stroking himself and letting moans tumble from him so openly. He knows it's shameful, knows it's absurd more than anything. All this, from a potion. He messed up. He royally fucked himself over and now he's dealing with it. He runs his own thumb over his tip, noticing the concerning amount of pre everywhere. This is not normal, he's reminded for a brief second, then forgoes all of his worries when he does it again, shooting a spike of satisfaction straight up his spine.

"Fuck," He chokes, panting as he ruts up into his hand, not bothering to control his movements as he acts on this crazed instinct, bucking up and tightening his grip ever so slightly. Every bit of warmth swallows him, head fuzzy as he carries on, eyes fluttering shut as a drop of sweat reaches his chin. His throat bobs, body swole with too much, every bit acutely aware of every bit of him that is touching anything else. It makes the touch of his own fingers tracing along a vein even more intense, even more consuming, and he moans loudly, composure tossed aside completely, not a sliver of concern about what would happen if somebody else caught him like this.

Except- he thinks about it as much as his starving self can manage, and blushes when he finds himself picturing Ted hovering over him, suffocating and all over. He imagines his own hand is Ted's and lifts his hips, rocking them forward into his hand with a groan. "Ted," He breathes out, flustering himself at the name, still managing to be bashful about thinking of his best friend in such a intemperate manner, brought upon his focus in a lascivious light.

But Schlatt can't help it, doesn't even think about stopping. He wants it too much, it's all too much. But somehow not enough as he can't get exactly what he needs, still overflowing with an ache he can't place yet, pressing the pad of his thumb to the head, scandalized by how much he's leaking already. He forces his eyes shut and gasps at the overwhelming pleasure.

"Shit," He whispers, and thinks about how Ted's fingers are just a little longer than his, how they'd wrap around him, and he moans, desperation clasping onto every inch of his body he has to offer. "Shi- Ted, Ted."

"Schlatt?"

For the first time since the potion kicked in, Schlatt feels a distant sense of coldness as a chill runs through him, and it nearly gives him a momentary feeling of relief. But when he opens his eyes he sees Ted and goes even more red, all the heat coming back as he stills, any potential vowel dying on his tongue and stringing into an awkwardness that emits from the back of his throat. He's been caught, there's absolutely no way to explain it some other way than what this is.

Ted's standing there, completely dumbstruck, a bag full of food in one hand, right in the doorway.

"Ted?" Schlatt manages, voice scratchy around the edges, inflection full of humiliation as he drags a hand up and waves at the door. "God, Ted, close the damn door!"

"You're-" Ted strangles his own sentence, not succeeding to complete anything comprehensible, his face growing flush with a dust of pink. "I- Schlatt-"

"The door!"

Ted kicks the door shut with the back of his foot, dropping the bag and looking away from the sight that Schlatt surely is. "What the fuck are you doing, man?"

Schlatt feels arousal rise up and he grimaces when his fingers twitch, wanting to return to their original position before Ted interrupted. But he's here and hell, he's cussing at Schlatt which should not be tempting if Schlatt was a sane person. But clearly he isn't and he covers his mouth when his throat flexes with a whine, and he shakes his head.

"Nothing," He stammers out, a total lie. He hates how much he likes how exposed he is, legs partially opened, dick still incredibly hard it hurts, and it's all on display yet Ted isn't looking this way. It makes that restless and horny part of him to beg that Ted would.

But Ted's brows are furrowed as he stares intently at the ground to his left, away from Schlatt, mouth dragged into a stern frown.

Schlatt ignores what he wants for a moment to cover himself decently, trying his best to stave away how his erection is still so obvious underneath his poorly pulled up pants and the pillow.

"I-" He wants Ted to turn to him, wants Ted to gaze at him and call him things, he wants Ted to touch him. But instead Schlatt clears his throat, putting in extra effort to sustain himself and act a little more professional. "Uh, sorry?"

Ted suspects he's covered up, sneaking a peek then facing him when he realizes he's right. His cheeks are colored, saturated with a pink, and he stumbles over his words as he glances at Schlatt cautiously,  eyes shifting all over the place even if Schlatt's still not showing off as much.

"I didn't mean to interrupt- hell, Schlatt," He clenches his fist, Schlatt notices, and he coughs, "Hell, man. What- Why?"

Ted slows down, his other hand numbly patting his pocket as Schlatt coils up into himself with his confession.

"The potion," He says, then instantly stills because...

Well, wait a damn minute- Ted said it at the same time as him. The potion.

"Yes," Schlatt hisses, wrapping an arm around himself, skin burning. "Something-" He breathes in, dick twitching because he's still caught up in the world where Ted is crowding him up on the damn couch. "Fuck- Ted, something's wrong with it."

Ted's eyes widen slightly. "You tried it?"

Schlat grimaces. "Of course, but you're the one who guessed it was the fucking potion, man! Like you knew!"

"I- what?"

"Did you know something was off?" Schlatt asks, wanting to scold himself for the way his hands grasp onto the pillow when Ted finally concentrates his gaze onto Schlatt, focused and pouting.

But silent, most of all. Ted doesn't say anything, not for a moment, and Schlatt raises a brow in suspicion. To which Ted folds, bringing his shoulders up in a tense position, stiff as he waves Schlatt away and glances to the side.

"No. No. I did not."

"Ted," Schlatt demands, but the weathered addition to his voice makes him sound more like he's pleading Ted for an answer, not commanding him. Which is fair, Schlatt supposes, that's what it feels like. Here, starved for touch from the man in front of him yet so conflicted because he's so annoyed and upset with Ted all the same. Screw the guy, Schlatt wants him, painfully so. "Ted, what did you do to my fuckin potion, man?"

Ted winces, full body caving under the pressure as he shrugs. "I didn't- look this was an accident."

Schlatt groans, hanging his head low to hide the way he rolls his eyes with frustration. His patience is thin, after all, and he can feel himself becoming more and more embarrassingly needy by the second. And it's all because of some stupid accident, Ted says. "Fuck," Schlatt whispers.

"I, mean," Ted starts, shuffling around to retrieve something from his pockets, pulling out a small envelope about the length of a finger and a width of half of his palm as he holds it out, ashamed. "Okay. Okay," He steadies himself, gathering composure and tossing the envelope to Schlatt. "This is my fault."

Schlatt blinks, curious, and can momentarily ignore the aching hunger creeping up on him and he opens it, watching as two small and pink teardrop shaped seeds fall into his palm. "What the hell are these?"

"Uh," Ted blanks for a moment, unable to recall the name as he attempts to curl in on himself like a turtle. But with no shell, he's still sitting like a duck underneath Schlatt's attentive gaze, and the weight seems to make him snap back to his memory as he shrugs. "Astro- no, Amorous seeds! Seeds, Schlatt. They're Amorous seeds."

Part of Schlatt wants to disappear, maybe even come back with the promise that everything would be fixed in this mess like it never happened. Another part, though, the larger part, wants to shout at Ted for fucking up his potion, then to ask Ted to do the same to him as well, of course, in the suggestive manner one would. God, he's so desperate it really is ridiculous.

But he's also very confused, blinking at Ted as he drops them back into the envelope. "Where the hell did you get these?"

"They're a gift," Ted groans, like he's complaining almost, but Schlatt's glare quickly makes him cut himself off as he glances to the side. "Supposed to be, anyways. Look, there was this man-"

"A stranger?"

"Yeah," Ted confesses and moves on to save himself from hearing what Schlatt has to say about that as he bites his lips in thought for a moment, catching hold of Schlatt's line of vision which then diverts to the way Ted clenches his fists for a moment.

He really shouldn't be doing that, Schlatt thinks.

He tries to stave away the arousal that wants to grab control of him, even if it's difficult. He thinks ignoring how his dick basically begs for attention is more professional in the way anyone could possibly manage to be in a situation of this sort of nature. It hurts, of course, as he ignores how crazy uncomfortable he is. He needs to stop thinking about his friend like this, he tells himself, but he knows it won't do anything as Ted carries on.

"He was selling stuff for potions in this wagon of his-"

"Shit." Schlatt presses the palm of his hand to his mouth with a whisper as realization settles in, picking up on where this is going.

"I know you like doing your whole potion thing," Ted says making Schlatt huff with a sarcastic expression before it shifts with the sight of Ted waving his hands around for a moment when he speaks, and Schlatt nearly gets whiplash when he remembers imaging those hands instead of his own. He looks away from Ted, hiding a frown with the way his dick starts to strain against his pants. He tries to look back at Ted again, wondering if he can handle it now, but his eyes are instantly lingering on Ted's mouth, watching as his tongue peaks through, noticing the faint smell of dewy grass he walked through and the diluted rosemary oil he uses for his hair. Schlatt closes his mouth, only now noticing it has opened, and he tries not to look over Ted so amorously. It makes it a little easier when Ted continues with his stupid story, reminding Schlatt that's he's upset with him. "I didn't know what the seeds were, but he was going out of business or something, so everything was super cheap."

"You dumbass!" Schlatt nearly throws the pillow at him, but the hint of cool air ices over his burning skin, lower stomach exposed, his v-line visible, the cold clashing with the heat of his body. He instantly presses the pillow back down as his control of his situation starts to slip, towers of composure tilting over as he feels a needy edge crawl up his spine.

"When did you put them in?" He rasps, noticing the way Ted subtly widens his eyes, still being a little caught of guard by the effects. But he clears his throat and offers a guilty smile.

"When you told me to add the pomegranate seeds."

"Oh, you suck," Schlatt says, regretting it when his thoughts counter back 'I wish he would' with promiscuous intent, makin his cock ache harder. It stings, it hurts, it's not enough. But he retracts his hand and denies himself from removing his pants.

"I didn't mean it." Ted defends quickly, voice wavering for a moment, hoping that Schlatt will believe him. "I poured the wrong packet in, okay. Total accident!" He throws his hands to the side dramatically, then crosses them as he tilts his head. "It was too late, it's not like I could take them out. They fucking dissolved- I didn't mean it. So I throwed in the pomegranate ones as well."

"And didn't say anything," Schlatt points out with a soft groan, pressing his hands down into the couch to try and resist touching himself, half listening as Ted nods.

"And didn't say anything."

"You're terrible," Schlatt breathes out, locking in on his eyes for a moment. Ted's glasses frame glints from the light pouring from the kitchen, his eyes shining, and dammit it looks good, it's gorgeous. He traces down Ted's jawline, fingers tingling at the sight of his throat. It's so stupidly desirable.

"Little bit," Ted agrees. He holds a hand out, which at first leaves Schlatt at a loss, unsure of what he wants. But then he remembers the envelope he placed to the side and huffs out hot air with effort when he moves to hand it back to him.

"You're an awful-" He places it in Ted's palm, his fingers making skin to skin contact, and his heart pounds, loud in his ears, and he can't help but make a move to hold Ted's wrist. It happens within the blink of an eye, because Schlatt remembers to have a bit of sense, and snaps his hand back like Ted bit him. He groans sadly at the seperation, head low with shame, breathless. "Awful person."

Ted swallows, Schlatt watching the movement with hungry eyes as Ted picks up a small pinch of nervousness, unsure of how he should react. Schlatt doesn't blame him.

"Again, Schlatt, I'm sorry, this was accidental," He says, but any worry for his best friend turns sideways in Schlatt's brain and he starts thinking about that same voice whispering a whole bunch of sultry shit into his ear. So he half listens, half zones out trying to focus on getting rid of every horny thought. "I could..." Ted notices Schlatt's partially absent mind and clears his throat, trying his best to go in the route that he thinks is best for this strange situation they've both landed in. "I could try to find out a cure? I could leave and-"

"No." Schlatt cuts him off, not even meaning to say it. The plead just came out, he couldn't help it. But, well, he is starting to need Ted. Badly. And if the man leaves Schlatt has a feeling everything is just going to get worse for some reason. He can't explain it, but he just knows that Ted walking away is going to do the opposite of help. So the alternative is he stays here.

Ted seems rightfully confused, head running through any possible reason Schlatt wouldn't want him to head out and look for a cure. He doesn't seem to find one, Schlatt can tell my the look in his eyes, but he also thinks that's because Ted is blocking out one very obvious answer.

"Just-" Schlatt doesn't know how to put it into words without making his best friend so incredibly uncomfortable. He still goes at an attempt, holding his hand up like a beggar on the road, and gazes up at him. Ted looks down, mouth drawing into a thin line of uncertainty. "Don't go, Ted," He asks, "I need- just touch me, okay? It helps. It helps me, please."

Ted's whole body falters, biting his cheek as he tilts his head in suspicion. "Schlatt, you okay? Are you sure?"

Schlatt nods, making a grabbing motion with his hand. "Ted, come on."

Ted finally seems to cave, shoulders drooping and but his face all tense in expression as he moves to hold Schlatt's hand, long fingers wrapping around Schlatt, palm to palm, and it makes Schlatt feel exhilarated. This is it, this is what he needs, even if it's hardly even halfway to being enough. It actually does help, the touch makes part of his body stop tingling so incredibly much. Of course, it doesn't help with the main issue being his dick, but this is baby steps, he thinks.

He squeezes Ted's hand, insistent, and when he meets Ted's attentive gaze he can't help but squirm where he sits, feeling his whole body suddenly ache with want.

A mere hand won't do.

He breathes out, still embarrassed by how weathered his voice is. "More," He whispers, barely loud enough for the other man to hear. When Ted doesn't make a move instantly, Schlatt lightly tugs at his hand, encouraging him to move in while he reaches his other hand to request Ted's own.

"I-"

"Please?" Schlatt's fingers graze across Ted's knuckles, searching for contact, any at all, and he hides a frown when Ted's hand sways back. They're still holding hands of course, but Schlatt wants more. Needs it, even.

Which is why he feels a moment of straight betrayal when Ted reels his hand back, disconnecting them completely. A heavy rock drops to the bottom of Schlatt's stomach, he frowns, and holds his breath as he thinks of a new way to convince his friend.

That is until Ted moves to sit next to him on the couch, attempting to maintain a serious face to hide all the ways he's lacking confidence as of right now. Schlatt's heart spikes up, eagerness etched into his expression as he twists his torso around.

"Okay," Ted says quietly, accepting the role, offering to help, and it makes Schlatt's chest blossom with warmth, makes his dick twitch inappropriately as the potion swirls through him, making his thoughts hazy and highlighting the way a thick strand of hair still sticks out no matter what Ted does, or the wide bow of his lips which basically call Schlatt's name as they move around the man's vowels. "Tell me what to do in order to help, then."

Schlatt makes a noise of grateful relief, serving Ted with a glance of appreciation, face still flushed. He tries to wipe off the sweat on his face before leaning closer and gesturing to himself. "Could  you, like-" He purses his lips into a downwards shape of contemplation, slight humiliations weighing down the inner points of his eyebrows, leaving them furrowed before he waves a hand aimlessly. "God, I dunno, just hold me, man."

And so Ted does. He moves with too much caution, much to Schlatt's dismay. He needs a bit more directiveness up in here, but Ted is trying to be something close to careful as he reaches his hands out, not sure where to place them, and his lashes flutter when Schlatt darts to move them to his side.

"Oh, hell." Schlatt hangs his head in a whisper, Ted's palms pressing right up against the dumb material of his shirt is enough to soak a reaction out of him, of course. There's a beam of pleasure that shoots south, cock painfully hard, and he holds back a compromising noise as he focuses in on the touch. It's enlightening, it's wonderful, it's everything-

It's not enough, naturally.

His hands move to hold onto Ted's forearms, arching his chest towards Ted in a weird position, legs still facing forward while Ted is to his right. It's not an ideal set up, so he shifts around to fully face him, humming at the hold Ted has on him. "More," He repeats from earlier and this time he gets it. This is the time where Ted listens and follows through.

He pulls Schlatt closer, his knee grazing across the whole side of Schlatt's thigh and it's just enough to make him let out a breathy moan. His hands are holding Schlatt at his waist, eyeing him with a whole bag of concern for his friend. Meanwhile, Schlatt is just trying to figure out how to satisfy the ache in himself in order to end it for good.

He squirms, mouth parted with a pant, and squeezes Ted's arms when his movement causes their legs to brush up against each other even more. The contact makes his skin set on fire, a trail of warmth steadily climbing up to his dick, and he leans forward, not thinking, as his hands slide up to Ted's shoulders and bring him closer.

Their foreheads bump for a moment, the proximity is undoing, and he hangs his head with a flushed face and closed eyes. "Ted it's not enough," He whispers, and he can feel Ted's huff, he can feel Ted adjust his hold on him turn into more of a grip, almost like a warning, as if he knows where this is going. Schlatt doesn't care, because it's Ted's fault anyways. So he carries on, scooting himself closer, pillow nearly falling out of his lap until Ted quickly moves a hand to press it down, which makes Schlatt grunt, shaking his head. "Ted, seriously."

"Schlatt." His voice is gravelly, nearly, and it sends a slight shiver down Schlatt's spine, which could be corny, however, Schlatt can't help it as he's currently losing his mind and everything else he had, namely dignity as he peaks up at Ted and his lashes flutter.

"You did this," He spits out, and he's thankful that there's at least a pinch of anger within his words, otherwise who knows if it would have gotten Ted's attention, who knows if Ted would have even cared. He looks, though, and listens. "So help me."

Ted holds his breath, his hands faltering for a moment, pillow falling as Schlatt takes the opportunity bring himself even closer, thighs slotting as he groans.

"Come on, Ted," He prompts, so obnoxiously desperate but right now isn't the time to hate himself for how he's clinging onto Ted with all of his hope. Ted is silent for a second, shocked perhaps, and then his lips are pulled into a small frown.

"Oh my-"

"Ted."

"Fuck," Ted grumbles, looking away from Schlatt, yet his hands still stay wrapped around him. He blinks repeatedly for a moment, then scrunches his nose. "Schlatt, no, come on, no way."

"Dammit, why not?" Schlatt shoots back, hands falling from Ted's shoulder to cross his arms with frustration, brows knotted together and his dick peaking out, begging anybody for anything, but Schlatt has Ted right here, he wants it to be him. But Ted isn't buying it just yet as he scoffs.

"Why not? Schlatt, holy- what the hell man?" He grips Schlatt tighter for a second, eyes flashing when he realizes this, and brings his hand back and pointedly ignores looking down at where Schlatt needs the most attention. He runs a hand through his hair, attempting to calm himself, but his face is getting redder by the second as he bites his lower lip, trying to find his words, and glares at Schlatt. "I'm not- okay, look, I am not gonna touch your dick!" He throws a hand to the side for emphasis, then it lands on Schlatt's lower thigh, making Schlatt momentarily lose focus, but he does try to listen as Ted's shoulders sag. "You're basically fucking drugged, right? That's what this is?" He looks to the kitchen, attempting to remind Schlatt of his potions, because this is happening because of the potion. Ted does look guilty as he says it though, and Schlatt has a sliver of himself that renders it good that Ted can realize it is his damn fault. "You- shit, shit." He cuts himself off, worry bringing his brows to form a distressed expression to sit on his face as he shrugs twice, stress radiating off of him in waves. "Schlatt, you can't think, you're not in the right mind, so- so I can't, I won't. You don't want this."

There's a piece of Schlatt that actually leaves room for other stupid feelies other than just 'horny and oh my god I need' that allows Schlatt to seethe, his crossed arms coming undone to push at Ted's chest with irritation, lips forming around an ugly snarl as he shoves Ted, all of his bitterness being transformed into something way bigger than itself due to the stupid potion, because apparently it amplifies everything including his anger, not just his desperate need to be touched.

"You don't know that!" He shouts at him, full on, and watches as Ted's eyes widen, clearly not expecting the small outburst, the furrow of his brows written in with ink full of resentment. Ted can sense that the potion must be making his emotions even stronger, though, because he doesn't shout back, and doesn't quite take it to heart just yet as Schlatt takes his hands off of Ted. "Those stupid seeds may be doing numbers, Ted, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of recognizing my own fucking feelings, okay, I know whether or not I would have wanted this potion or no damn potion."

"I-" Ted swallows instead of finishing that thought, like he's bringing it down to drown, and he chokes for a second on it. "So what- I mean, what you're saying is?"

He doesn't bother to finish, like he thinks he'll get it wrong, like he doesn't believe it, and waits as Schlatt's upset frown lessens itself as he nods.

"Ted, listen, y'know, I was thinking about you coming here today, okay? It was this morning, and, well, yknow, I was sitting there for a moment thinking about this-"

Schlatt moves, hovering his lips incredibly close to Ted's own and watching the way surprise and poorly concealed arousal start to spread across Ted's features.  He doesn't make any move to inch closer, though, just stays there, the warmth of their breathes mingling as he gazes at him.

"I thought about it, I did, man," He confesses, the tips of his fingers tingling as he glides his hand up Ted's arm. "I went like this, yknow."

Ted hums along, attentively following the story as Schlatt moves his other hand up and up, curving around the back of Ted's neck, his skin boiling, stomach clenching with desire as he tilts his head ever so slightly, lips brushing. "Then this, and then..."

He pauses, the possibility to be flustered returning to him as Ted's eyes dampen with the loss of the rest of the story, so he presses on, morbid curiosity sinking into his soul.

"And then what?" He asks, voice low it has Schlatt biting his cheek before he answers, palm pressed flat against Ted's bicep and his other hand curling the hair at the nape of his neck gently.

"And then you kissed me," Schlatt reveals, breathless, anticipation swelling his heart and making it thump against his ribcage. Yes he needs Ted's touch and all of that because of the potion, but really, deep down, he's always kept it to himself that he wants Ted more than anything and needs Ted himself, needs his company and his smug chuckle and everything that makes him so terribly Ted. So he waits, hopeful in a way the potion couldn't have forced him to be, and beams when he feels Ted's lips meeting his own.

The sensation of it all rekindles that ache, desire sparking up ten times larger as his dick twitches and his whine is swallowed by the other, muffled noises dragged out of him as he rolls his hips forward, friction present although minimal. It can still evoke a reaction out of him, of course, as he grinds down onto Ted's thigh, hungry for more as it's not nearly enough despite the delicious sting of pleasure that it creates. He disregards any self preservations that could possibly have remained after basically climbing onto Ted, he throws out any left over when Ted's hand finally wraps around his dick after tugging his pants down.

He lets out this strangled noise, caught off guard by the way it makes his whole body jolt for a second, letting out a breathy "Shit" when his vocals are drawn out into a moan, soaking up the feeling of Ted's hand on him, thumb pressed flat against the side, nearly the tip- and Schlatt can look down to, such a ridiculously graphic sight, but then his vision starts to blur for just a faint second when Ted shifts his hands, actually jerking him off, and Schlatt has to glance away from the stupid amount of pre.

Schlatt doesn't feel quite sedated, though, not nearly there. He huffs a little bit with frustration, then whines with pleasure, the sound escaping his throat whether he ever wanted it to or not, and he drapes himself across Ted, arms thrown over his shoulders. It's wonderful, really, yet there's still this empty part of him that is raging around, demanding to be completed. Momentarily he forgets about it, Ted's lips suddenly grazing across the bare skin of his neck, making his back straighten quickly, the movement out of his control. But then- of course- because Schlatt should've guessed this within his fantasies- Ted starts kissing his neck, a gentle and affectionate thing at first that has him melting. Here is what he should have known though, as Ted presses his tongue flat against his neck, hot and suffocating his skin, before he pulls back onto to pierce his skin in the lightest way he can, making Schlatt gasp. Ted bit Schlatt, wiping the area with his tongue and Schlatt has half the mind to be grossed out by his tongue, but then remembers it was only just recently in his mouth, so it's whatever at this point, especially because there might be bigger fish to fry.

Despite how close he feels to the edge, like he could come at any second, there still remains that lingering shard, stuck in his skin and making him unable to decide whether his body wants to buck up into Ted's hand, or downwards like something's there for him. His breaths are laboured, his eyes have fallen shut, and his hands tighten around the fabric of Ted's shirt he's bunched up into his grip.

"Ted-" He loses himself for a moment, words floating away in the wave of bliss that is repeatedly washed over him. He resurfaces, pulling his face back from Ted's shoulder and feverishly moving his hips and in any other circumstances Schlatt might laugh at himself, saying he's like a dancer. But instead he squints, meeting Ted's gaze the best he can. He tries not to let out a moan when he opens his mouth, face tilted, aim slanted when he kisses Ted. "I'm close, I can- I fucking feel it, Ted."

Ted hums into the kiss, his other hand slithering around to Schlatt's lower back, and he encourages him further with a breathless chuckle. "Mkay, okay," He prompts him, coaxing him with the movement of his hand, engulfing his dick with a relentless warmth, and taking in a sharp breath when Schlatt moans in his ear. "Holy shit-" He cuts himself off, his under-the-breath whispers retreating as he blinks, captured in what just could be named appreciation as he watches Schlatt come undone, a choked groan as uncerminous as his ragdoll against Ted.

Schlatt's attempting to control his breathing again, of course, after realizing he's just ruined his pants, but can't quite seem to care when he notices a daunting fact- the damn potion- he chokes out a soft sob at the sight, head hung low. He's still hard and he still aches, which shouldn't be happening. It hurts, at least a little, how empty he feels, and the hands he had drifting down Ted's body clench as he feels a hint of rage boil within.

"Are you kidding me," He mumbles into Ted's shirt, pulling back, gasping for air. It looks like Ted is about to pull back, seemingly assuming he's done all that Schlatt needs, and he looked near dazed, in a dream. But the reality is making a bubble of panic lodge in Schlatt's throat because no matter how great it is to feel Ted's hands all over him, he needs this burning pain to stop, it drives him crazy. And perhaps the infected, potion drunk, sick part of him wanted to only prove that point, because he jumps at Ted when he makes a move to give Schlatt some space. It's like a hug but instead Schlatt feels like every inch of his sanity is being driven up the walls, and his lips are back on Ted's.

"Ted, don't go," He says, trying for casual, only landing on desperate. He laughs, at himself he thinks, the absurdity of it all, and it's not a pretty laugh either as his eyes prick with single tears, by themselves and waiting for the command to trickle down his flushed cheeks. This all insane, really, Schlatt thinks as he reaches for Ted's wrist. "I still fucking need you, man, I-" He hisses when Ted shifts around slightly, then a surprised noise follows when Ted's moving to quick for him to comprehend and next thing he knows his back slams into the couch, knees bent, facing the roof, and Ted hovering over him with swollen lips because Schlatt couldn't keep away from them.

"I won't go," He confirms, a comforting statement that extinguishes the small crack within Schlatt's chest that was starting to grow, praying Ted wouldn't leave, trying to convince him he would, a circle of self-imposed stress, a fire that Ted quickly kills, pinning him to the couch with his hands on Schlatt's arms.

"Good," Schlatt sighs, shoulders loosening up while the majority of him still stays restless, like his fingers that itch to crawl over more skin, and that stupid fucking hole in him that's making him crumble from the inside out all because he needs a way to be filled. Here, though, when Ted's eyes rake over him, it's pretty clear how he'll get that. Ted seems to be making a similar connection as he lets out a breathy sound, maybe it's supposed to be a laugh? Like he's in disbelief.

"This is insane."

"I know," Schlatt admits, he bends his hand awkwardly, hoping he could meet Ted's, but he's too restrained, and lets his head fall back with a grunt. "Just go with it, please."

"I want to," Ted quickly confesses, then lowering his head, gaze no longer pointed at Schatt, and his hair falls down, blocking his expression. "I want to, Schlatt, but what do I do-"

"Fuck me, Ted."

Schlatt's holding his whole entire life on the line, it feels, breath held up in his legs, chest seized with anxious anticipation as he wraps his legs around Ted. It's almost delicate how he does so, like even after everything that's happened since Ted said yes to this, that Schlatt still needs to be aware off one wrong step, one move in the wrong direction before it all comes crashing down. Because, well, this, and actually for real this time this right here is big. It isn't a handjob to help a friend out, now it's that and Schlatt's stupid confession about already being attracted to him, it's all his thoughts about wanting Ted as something more than a friend-

And now it's asking to have full blown sex. Ted's right, this is insane.

"Fuck," Ted cusses, and Schlatt can easily see the light in his eyes, the excitement to jump at the chance given, Ted's own less wild-like desire creeping up on him. It's tame in the way he craves it, he isn't starved unlike Schlatt, he isn't falling apart, seams ripping, just for the slightest skin to skin contact. But he definitely wants this, nonetheless, and that makes Schlatt swell up with various positive feelings. "For real?"

Schlatt nods, eager. "Really."

"I'll go get-"

"No," Schlatt argues, legs tightening around Ted desperately, flexing with his arms halfway above his head, like losing Ted's grip to hold him down was a loss and he's trying to regain. "I don't need any of that, just fuck me, please."

Ted is a little baffled, but he nods, even his ears pink, and he makes quick work to fully tug off Schlatt's pants, looking back up at him for permission. Schlatt lets his legs drop and soon his whole bottom half is bare naked, the potion's effects grab a hold of Schlatt again, blossoming when Ted's fully naked, like a gift from above maybe. His whole world is tilted when Ted is closing in on him again, crowding him on the couch, and taking hint of the way Schlatt squirms, arms lazily reaching up towards the arm of the couch.

It all lands with Ted's hands pressing Schlatt's wrist down into the couch as he slides into him, hot air tumbling from his parted lips in slow pants as he bottoms out, Schlatt's lower body lifted upwards for better leverage, legs once again wrapped around the man above him.

"Fucking shit," He rushes out, all short-winded already, lifting his head to gaze at the sight where Ted becomes Schlatt, or the other way around, who knows. He moans, looking back up at the ceiling, and arches his back towards it.

He's fucking finally being feed it seems, throwing fuel into the roaring engine that burns him from the inside, that makes him spill out moan after moan, something so whorish but he can't help it when Ted is inside him, dick filling in perfectly. It sedates him the same time it makes him fully lose his mind, going slack while his mouth spits out mantras that bed Ted for more.

He has no idea if he'll be embarrassed after this, he can't think, not when Ted fucks into him, and his brain walks out the door.

"Shit!" He rears his head to the side, meeting his arm, and squeezes his eyes shut with a pleasured hiss, Ted daring to slow down. "Please, Ted, don't you fuckin stop. Don't, I swear, I might fuckin- please."

"God," Ted mumbles, breathy and spent, dragging out the way he sinks into Schlatt, making him impatient, and he offers a small smile in the mix. "This is the most I've ever heard you say please."

"You're crazy," Schlatt spits out, not really knowing what to say. His words sound half-assed, loopy even, and he feels it as the rise and fall of his chest is left alone without Ted's paced thrusts, without any of it, just this slow and tantalizing shift of his hips.

"Aren't you?" Ted counters and Schlatt can't even think of a simple 'no' or any other way to deny him before he picks back up again, shameless with how he rams into Schlatt, actually, and Schlatt's short-lived pillars of composure are striked down again, keening as he balls his hands into fists.

The actual sex sort of feels like living within a heartbeat's pulse, a methodic rhythm surging through, on a timed cycle, continuous and counted on. It's in sync with the messy, needy, and enraptured melodie that supposedly forms with Schlatt's whines and muttered out rambles, paired with Ted's moan when Schlatt dares to try and meet him there, hips bucking. It's the sort of elated flow where Schlatt has just let go, happy with nothing in his head, content with the blurry edges all around because he feels good, so he's perfectly okay when he can't even try to form a proper sentence anymore, rants turning into babbling nonsense as he twists in Ted's hold, back once again lifting from the couch, a perfect crescent bent arc, words failing him as he reaches an orgasm for a second time, this without any warning beforehand, choking on a pleasantly spent groan before sinking into the couch like it could take his body, suck him in fully. But Ted's dick is still in him, he starts to register, and he can feel little prickly tingles of overstimulation start to sparkle.

Ted, thankfully, isn't far behind Schlatt, actually, and quickly moves to kiss Schlatt's neck when he finishes, a strange sort of sentiment, one that melts Schlatt who at least feels like he's passed the solid stage and deformed into a liquid, all loose and so easy to move as Ted pulls out, breathing heavy, gazing at the way Schlatt's still catching his own breath. It's easy for Ted to just lift Schlatt up, like he's boneless, and settle the other into the closet sitting position they'll get as Schlatt closes his eyes, spent like a bitch, he'll admit.

He doesn't yet hold the capacity in his brain to fully realize that his cock isn't no longer painfully hard, but somehow he's able to feel relief about it nonetheless, no matter how little he comprehends it yet. The ache in him is fading away, he can feel it, and his senses slowly trudge back to him through thick mud and fog, leaving Schlatt to gaze thoughtlessly for a while, exhaling loudly as all of the hot air and overwhelming warmth finally starts to float out of his body, no longer trapping him, and he feels lighter in that sense.

Ted is cautious for a second, watching him intently as he runs a hand through his hair. "So did it work?" He asks, he refers to the sex as it, and Schlatt has half the mind to snort at that. Partially because he finds it funny, and a little bit because he doesn't like it.

He takes a moment, making sure he'll be able to speak in a competent manner, and shoots a glare at Ted. "Uh, yeah, the sex we had worked, Ted."

Chips of bliss slowly fall off of his shoulders, clarity approaching Schlatt slowly, his headspace gradually returning to the ground from over the moon, somewhere out there, but it's making its way back, and he groans, exhausted and a fucking mess as Ted huffs.

"That's good," Ted states and Schlatt isn't committed enough to reality yet to throw in a 'no shit', doesn't have train of thought,  so he just focuses on getting the train tracks down as Ted's eyes slide to the ground, meeting their tossed clothes, and oh, that's right, Ted is entirely naked. "It- the sex was good too- as well."

Schlatt pauses, sneaking a glance at Ted and biting his lip, an internal debate rising to storm on what Ted even means by any of it. Is it a simple statement, he should take it at face value, as it is, and leave it there, or is Ted leading up to the point where he says it's never happening again though, or that it will be- Schlatt has no fucking clue, and he thinks it's not even because he got his brains fucked just moments ago.

So he sighs, risking it, and smiles a little. "Yeah, it was. Even if there wasn't any potion involved, yknow, I think it could've been fun?"

And, well, maybe the potions effects haven't worn off just yet, because he's been repeatedly throwing himself out there ever since Ted walked through the door, waiting for Ted to catch him, hoping he'll be reeled in. And he has no idea if he would've been so bold without it, to be honest, he isn't sure. He's thought about handing out some sort of confession, if it had to have a name, in hopes of seeking out whether Ted would return what Schlatt feels here, hand against his chest as he leans back, looking upwards as he swallows nervously.

 "You think so, huh?" Ted eventually asks, a secret plea for confirmation, perhaps, a check for his ears, an offer to Schlatt to take it all back.

Schlatt stands his guard and nods. "I do."

Ted makes a soft and flustered noise, covering it as he aggressively clears his throat, turning away with the blush on his cheeks, and he waves a hand in an attempt to be nonchalant.  "Well, Schlatt, I think I'll just toss it out there," He starts, looking out at the rest of the living room like it's suddenly gotten more entertaining than all the other times he's been here. "Toss out a sort of proposal, I guess."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

Schlatt hums and Ted finally looks at Schlatt. "Sometime in the future we could see, yknow?"

"We could see," Schlatt mumbles, lost for a second, mind circling back, and he gets giddy, leaning towards Ted.

"Yes, Schlatt, we could see how it plays out with no potion, if you want."

Schlatt lets out a short chuckle, amused and delighted, and kisses Ted, near tender. "Sounds like a date, pal, but first we gotta get clean."

Ted seems to only now register the fact that Schlatt's correct, as he glances down at both of their lower halves, and the couch, and scrunches his nose with a distasteful sigh. "Alright," He groans in defeat, ever so dramatic about responsibility, and Schlatt snickers when Ted bends over the couch to retrieve some of the disregarded clothes.

"Oh, of course, and you can make dinner," Schlatt chimes in, watching with a grin from where he sits and Ted huffs, possible disagreement on the tip of his tongue, but holds it down and kisses Schlatt instead.

"Don't complain if it's bad, then, you're now asking for it."

Schlatt rolls his eyes, not deigning him with a response, eyes falling shut. He can't keep them closed for long, though, when he feels a jolt of something cold against his stomach and snaps up only to see Ted pressing a towel to his skin.

"Fuck you," He grumbles, shaking off his alarmed state. Ted, meanwhile, just titles his head with a floppy smile.

"Eh, let's try the other way, maybe?" He suggests and Schlatt, tired enough to be dumb for it, falls straight into the trap as he rubs an eye, grimacing when it doesn't stave away his urge to pass out.

"Fuck me?"

"Oh, dude, maybe later."

Schlatt comes to a halt, seeing the way he's been played, and whacks Ted with the little energy still wavering around in his body. "You're the worst."

Ted only smiles and Schlatt only watches, silently admitting how much he likes the sight, and maybe- possibly- Ted isn't actually the worst.

Schlatt quickly tells himself, though, that Ted is banned from dealing with potions, of course.

Of course.

[rosesradio]

THAT LUKABETH DDLG SHIT WAS SO ACCURATE. I'd think of it in a more fucked up way, like since she was little Annabeth has only ever trusted Luke to take care of her and no one else. This morphs into a weird, unusual, to some people disgusting arrangement as they both get older and Annabeth knows she could, should, feel ashamed of wanting Luke to take care of her this way, this is how it's always been between them. He's still the only one who can take care of her. I WILL have what that anon is having

okay, now i'll have some of what you're having 👀 i was honestly thinking along a similar path but i wanted to keep things tame (😭), but i can fully see this

*please take this post with a grain of salt, this is not at all meaning to be offensive towards the ddlg and/or age regression communities (yes ik those are two different communities with only occasional overlap). although i know those lifestyles can & often are explored in a healthy way, this post is simply an exploration into an unhealthy version*

i think the like. devolution of annabeth chase would be really interesting to explore.

like you put her through two wars, the first of which she fought against her older brother figure/years-long crush, the second of which her best friend/bf was missing for several months + the tartarus of it all, & ofc she has an insurmountable amount of trauma. i'd be curious to see an AU in which luke lives, he & annabeth manage to rekindle their relationship, & it causes the both of them to collide into each other & relapse into something...bizzare.

(this would be a post-HoO AU, annabeth is probably college aged & staying at the camp as an older counselor with luke while they figure out their next steps)

luke finds himself inclined to help her. he's just being nice, right? he's just being nice when he carries her things for her, sure...and gets her plate ready for her at dinner...and kneels down in front of her to tie her shoes instead of just telling annabeth her shoe is untied.

(ever since she was young, annabeth remembered liking the sight of luke kneeling before her to do something for her)

annabeth protests at first. she protested when she was a kid, too, always insisting that she could do everything herself to impress him. and luke just laughs & tells her that he knows she can, & that he just likes to take care of her. & part of her just melts

annabeth begins to give in more & more. annabeth lets him hold her in his lap during the campfires—she lets him read to her at night—she lets him help her dress in the older counselor's cabin, and she feels so vulnerable under his gaze, like his little doll. she loves the feeling. it makes her stomach coil with molten heat, like nausea & shame & arousal meeting in some sick, elaborate dance.

she's falling apart. she knows she's falling apart every time she looks at up the ceiling when luke "checks her for bugs" (there are never any bugs). she knows it when he tucks her in for the night and she asks him to stay with her. it only ends up with him looming over her, his cock buried to the hilt because he insists it'll feel so good (it does) & she'll sleep so much better (she does).

annabeth can sense it in the stares of the other campers. they know she's with him, they know their history. they should also know, she thinks, that she's an adult & can do what she likes. even if she falls back into acting like a child more often than not.

annabeth overhears it one day, from a younger camper watching as luke once again kneels down to tie annabeth's shoes (it's almost intentional, how often they're untied, though annabeth swears she forgets). annabeth thanks him when he comes up with a kiss—a kiss that luke tries to deepen, though annabeth pulls away as they're in public. the younger camper, a girl around ten, asks her older camper friend, a boy of around sixteen, if that will be them when she's old enough. the boy becomes awkward, stuttering out a "no" that's filled with contempt & digust.

annabeth's stomach churns with nausea. panic fills her lungs. she stumbles towards the bathroom before she can think to tell luke where she's going (luke hates it when she leaves unnanounced).

she throws up in the toilet, fighting through heaving breaths and sobs as the bubble begins to break around her mind, one agonizing crack against the glass after the next. she's fighting, fighting, fighting to be herself again, to reclaim her life.

if this was what she had become, she should have died in tartarus. she should have died under luke's blade in kronos's hands.

luke finds her before the bubble can crack beyond recognition. he rubs her back with a warm hand, his words soft and calming as piper's charmspeak.

annabeth knows he has fallen apart as much as she has. luke was made to care for her, nothing more. if he can't fufill her every desire, what was the point in him living at all?

he offers to hold her in his lap while she draws him a picture with her crayons, just like they used to when she was a kid.

annabeth nods, leaning into him as the tears dry and the bile becomes an aftertaste. she's tired, she's too tired to grapple with any of this now or ever.

luke is here now, and he's gonna make sure everything is okay.

[sheinthatfandom]

I feel like with god games it does make sense for Zeus to go off on Athena. One it wasn’t the first time, other people have put up stories and passages of him beating her tf up (favorite child or not those hands was rated E for electrocute everyone) but also certain lines just stick out to me okay like Imma ramble but hopefully it makes sense

To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?

You are playing with thunder for a man full of shame

But if he's worth the risk of going under,

Apollo, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Ares, Hera, or me

What do you say?

So like first up it sounds like he was telling her this isn’t just bad luck for ody this was the gods involvements. Like you’re asking me to wipe my hands on punishing the guy we been fucking up for over a decade now. Like even the threat of thunder is like oh was he personally involved with sending him to calypso no clue but he’s certainly keen on keeping him there. And then he specifically throws odys character in to question like you’re gonna step up to me to all of us for this man full of shame and shame was a very telling word here but I’ll touch more on that later. Okay but then at the end he says this god this one this one OR me. Like you have a chance to straight up ask me even though im obviously biased af but I the king of the gods your father the thunder bringer am an option all on my own. And she chose to try her luck with everyone else instead.

Never once has he cheated on his wife

You dare to defy me?!

To make me feel shame?!

No one beats me, NO ONE WINS MY GAME!

Okay so this I feel is kinda self explanatory but like Hera famously hates his fucking guts like the guy is a shit husband who will fuck anything like anything so for her to use ody being better than Zeus to hold up ody this mortal man and say he’s a better husband than Zeus and Hera going yeah release him that’s shameful to Zeus. He’s not ashamed of his actions cause it’s not like he’ll stop but he doesn’t want to hear it or face it. He’s Teflon consequences do not touch him. So the fact that Athena beat him at his game not by begging him directly but going through each god and having his own scorned wife go yeah let him go he’s pissed. To him the only one who should feel shame is ody and now Zeus is having some big feelings and instead of having a pre-k pause to discuss and explore these big feelings in a healthy way he lashes out on the person who held up the mirror on this particular day.

I don’t think Athena is dead but I do think she got a hell of a thrashing and it would excuse her for being gone for a few songs leaving Hermes to need to save ody and Telemachus to be on his own or find another friend he can confide and trust in.

God this was ramble I hope something in this makes sense it’s late I should be asleep but my head is pounding