#im changing the pronouns on purpose

[mramur]

fuck i can fix him, i can give her the affection she deserves the thing it needs and they can love me in return. And we both can have each other.

[lovedtogekiss]

sniperspy

[skuaclan]

Moon 2.

[fischlcatgirl]

My least evidence based headcanon rn... trans girl childe

[vanweezer]

why is everyone who makes videos abt ******* transphobic like

[readngandweepng]

ftm!könig x top male reader

note: könig has a pussy and reader has a dick. implied that könig is a virgin and this is his first time. no pronouns for reader. also i'm not writing daily or anything im just really horny. kind of short and not proofread

ftm!könig is so pretty when he’s being fucked. the way he puts his arm over his face or a hand over his mouth to muffle himself is almost as addicting as the taste of his pussy and the feeling of it clenching around your cock or your fingers. and he always gets so embarrassed when you ask that he sits on your face, worried that his weight will crush you, but his mind goes completely blank the minute your tongue dives between his folds. he perversely chants a blur between german and english, his brain completely short-circuiting when he feels you pull his thighs down to keep him from squirming away. your tongue plummets into the depths of his cunt, but even a man as strong as him can’t fight against the overwhelming pleasure he feels that has his thighs shaking in your grasp. 

könig is riding you, gentle as ever. he towers over you, his arms shaking as he balances himself, strong hands on your shoulders. his shy bounces make the bed creak, and out of embarrassment he has to stop and whisper out a saccharine-laced apology.

you encourage him, praising him for being so considerate. with the help of you guiding him, könig rolls his hips onto your cock again. he’s not doing it on purpose, but the slow pace is torture for you—as he speeds up, his fingers slide down your chest, his back arching as he moans.

“you’re so beautiful, könig.” you mutter out, watching intently the way your glistening cock is swallowed up by his desperate pussy. his hands go behind him to your legs, pushing himself off and back onto your cock. the sound of squelching alongside his hushed moans makes your dick twitch inside of him, causing your name to roll off of his tongue. 

you grin at the thought of you being the first to see this—a colonel with blood on his hands, completely debauched and weeping on your cock, whimpering at the feeling of your hips teasingly rolling into his as his breath catches in his throat. he sounds like he’s about to cry, and sickeningly enough that makes you thrust again, and again. könig desperately claws at your skin as he bounces in rhythm with your thrusts with not a care in the world left. he can barely breathe, his back in a permanent arch as his pussy squeezes around your cock with an unbeknownst power he didn’t know he had.

every time he lifts off your dick, his cunt practically sucks it back in. he bends forward, hands on your shoulders again. a moan rips out of him when the change of position causes your cock to hit that sweet spot inside of him. he didn’t realize how deep you were, or that his body could make such lewd sounds—it makes his face feel hot every time he hears the obscene sounds of his own sopping pussy. the feeling of you filling him has him reeling and, much to his chagrin, his hips rock to drive your cock even further into him.

he’s overwhelmed, his eyes rolling back in his head as he feels your thumb rub at his swollen clit. his voice is completely caught in his throat, unable to produce any sounds other than moans and whines every time he drops onto your dick. with one stroke of his clit and a sway of your hips, his entire body tenses. he tightens around you and könig sighs dreamily at the feeling of your cum spilling inside of his walls.

he slumps on top of you, surprisingly out of energy. he whines your name when he tries to move, gasping at the unfamiliar sensation of being filled with cum. you shush him, leaning up as slowly as you can to kiss his flushed face without overstimulating him. (you'll of course save that for another time.) right now, you rub circles into his thigh, dishing out words of praise and affirmation.

you kiss him once more, and into his lips you tell him that you love him. wiping his tears away, he says he loves you too.

[candieduranium]

my intro post

i guess it’s about time i made one of these

(why does this have so many notes???😭/genuine)

long ass intro oml

last updated august 21, 2024

•my name is micah but i also respond to furcata and rover

•i use any pronouns. i genuinely do not care what you use for me

•im a minor

•i am a christian. i do not force it onto other people. please respect my religion.

•i make mistakes on my blog (accidentally deleting things, unbalanced polls, etc.) from time to time so please excuse if i make some errors. trying my best.

•my tag for my original posts and reblogs that add to is “micah’s owlposting” even for stuff that isn’t owlkin-related. i have to retroactively tag my old posts with this tag so keep in mind that not all of them are tagged! i will update this post when i finish tagging.

•i am an american barn owl therian, vernid othermidst, machinehearted, and pigeonhearted.

• i am a quadrobist. i started in april of 2024.

•usually the things i post are about my alterhumanity but i also post golden texts my friends and i send each other along with some other stuff. sometimes in my posts there are mentions of sex and (mild?) sexual themes

•im also a furry. furry ≠ z00phil3

•my favorite music is by greta van fleet and umbrabyte. i also just enjoy vocaloid in general, too. in fact, the original purpose i had for my blog was just to keep up with umbrabyte and her content better. here’s umbrabyte’s spotify:

•my favorite aesthetics are cybercore, mizuiro/ tenshi kaiwai, vaporwave, and rococo

•my only definite dni is if your blog is focused on nsfw, has sexually explicit images, or unsafe for minors in general. we can interact if you are in a basic dni (zoophile, radqueers, etc) but i probably won’t interact with you as much as those who arent in the dni.

•haters will be blocked unless i find them especially funny.

•im up for chatting about whatever whenever so just shoot me a dm if you feel like it (sfw, obviously)

•my hobbies and special interests are drums, classical latin, fursuit making, cosplay, and illustrating

•i’m very interested in learning how to make vtuber models and customizing ball-jointed dolls

•my main fandoms are umbrabyte, tloz, pjsk, and tadc (i know some these fandoms are known for having CRAZY and problematic fans. im not one of them)

•i have a 4 year old black cat named dumpling (i post pics of him sometimes) and a 16 year old dog named stella. i hope to get a couple of oranda goldfish someday

•i dont have a set posting schedule. i post when i post. but i generally like to stay pretty active and try to post at least once per day.

•i follow anyone who interacts with my posts positively when im not in their dni and theyre not in mine and their blog isn’t completely default/blank this is now false. i have just learned that the maximum follow count is 5k and i am already above 4k. there are too many of you for me to follow you all😭

•some random and useless stuff about me: i have mild-moderate trypophobia and a deviated septum, i’m 5’7”, my favorite color is orange, i LOVE creme brulee, and my mbti is antp-t (a for ambivert)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

mild eyestrain warning ⚠️

how the fuck does this have so many notes??😭

vent-ish/vent-adjacent warning ⚠️

here’s a copypaste from another of my posts regarding my posting schedule and status:

hey folks, i may not be posting as much going forward because my father put my email on a lifelock account, which means that he may be alerted each time i log into my tumblr account. i use tumblr on the website on safari and i frequently log in and out because im anxious that my parents will check my search history, but they very rarely ever do. im testing if they get alerted right now by logging in to ao3 and c.ai, two websites that my parents likely wont be opposed to but would tell me and ask me about it if i got an alert. deleting my account is a last resort, but it is still on the table. this change is indefinite. i have backup plans in case my parents do get alerts from lifelock, but nothing is definite. i may continue on just fine, i might not. just giving y’all a heads up in case something does happen.

tl;dr my account may be discovered by my parents and i may be punished, maybe it wont. we’ll see

and does anyone know for sure if lifelock does send alerts about logging in tumblr accounts? please dont lie to me.

my mental health is hinging largely on my tumblr account and im praying sososo hard that i wont lose all of you wonderful, amazing people. this goes for the folks i have dmed and the ones i havent. but anyway. i love you all. thank you for the time youve given me, even if it wont be for much longer.

and heres another post copypaste:

hey folks i dont know if im gonna be posting for a hot minute because im at band practice rn but im gonna have the biggest fucking argument with my mom when i get home😍 i might get my phone taken away

so basically what happened is i told her im depressed and she blew me off and didnt believe me. she also did some other stuff. i may go into greater detail at a later date.

im sorry if this discomforts or tr_gg_rs anyone but i wanted to give an explanation and warning just in case i stop posting and interacting on tumblr

thank you all for being so wonderful, truly. i hope i can get my situation sorted out quickly and remain active.

i’ll probably update this post later on since im sure there’s something i forgot. check back with me every once in a while and i might have some new content on this post

thanks for reading 👍👍

[imustbenuts]

nuts reading trigun in japanese 3 - "weirdo" and vash's pronoun switching

disclaimer: my jp reading posts are all for triangulation purposes and nothing else. scanlating mangas is tough work. @-@ i know this.

"Weirdo"

the word 'weirdo' in 2024 english carries connotations of neutral-bad or positive depending on the context of the speaker. depending on how one curates their internet space, weirdo often leans more positively with the same meaning as eccentric, but not always.

however, but in JP, "weird" is more specific and often negative. there's the well known, hentai 変態 (ie. deviant, pervert, freak, extremely negative in tone), and in this case, kimochi warui 気持ち悪い (gross, off-putting, bad vibes). eccentrics are more as 変人 henjin and carries a more neutral tone.

in this panel here papa nebreska uses 気持ち悪い in katakana キモチワルイ in reaction to vash busting his ass saving people and putting out of harms' way. vash's vibes are so off putting to this wanted man he's actually creeped out.

this is particularly interesting to me bc the english translation didn't end up portraying how utterly weird vash's mindset is fully. it wasnt until wolfwood points out how flawed vash's pacifist mindset do i get a proper frame of reference of norms in this world, but i might be having skill issues in english comprehension. ;w;

Pronoun switching

quick. 俺 Ore! 僕 Boku! 私 Watashi! they all mean "I", and there's 2 spectrum of expressions going on here thats commonly believed. 1st being Masculinity to Femininity. what's the 2nd?

the answer is... Rudeness/Assertiveness to Politeness. and gosh does vash switch a lot between Boku and Ore in the first 4 chapters of this manga lmao.

(to be clear, while i am aware of trans hc thats very popular in the fandom, im not at all diminishing or talking about gender expression specifically. im talking about what vash is presenting himself as in context.)

so to perhaps oversimplify this, in JP the idea of politeness and hierarchy is so super duper important, its very built into the language itself. and Japanese is a very high context language. if someone of a higher or equal standing uses "Ore", its totally fine. but if someone of a lower standing uses "Ore", they've committed a social faux pas.

as an obvious example, if a fresh new employee approaches his Boss with "Ore", he's potentially getting dressing down in the company. maybe in front of his coworkers. if this employee forgoes polite speech (keigo) and uses a too Assertive and Casual speech, they've Really Fucked Up and are one foot out the door.

this is also tied up in gender to some extent, hence why girls using Ore is incredibly uncommon, but guys would use Watashi in certain contexts such as talking to their Boss. (woo woo the forces of hierarchy/patriarchy... or something.)

so. vash switches his pronouns for the same effect. when he uses Ore, he's making himself sound more assertive and confident. when he uses Boku, he's often making himself sound less threatening, smaller, open, and trying to avoid conflict.

sound familiar?

bc if you translated all of that into a character design instead of relying on just jp pronouns, we'd get TriStamp Vash.

slight spoilers, but this is even true in one of the tensest moments between vash and wolfwood, where the latter provokes vash and tears into his pacifism ideology. vash sticks with boku in this scene as he says his piece.

if he ever uses watashi, it's bc he wants to be polite straight out of the gate with an air of formality. (this is japanese manners and the proper approach to talking to strangers. mainly to get a feel for each others standing without offense until context changes.)

i also wanna point out maybe something obvious here but.

real life pronoun switching in japanese is a COMMON thing. no one ever really sticks to 1 pronoun bc of Good Manners and the aforementioned hierarchical systems in place. it is only mostly in anime/manga and video games where characters overly prefer 1 due to this being a good shorthand for characterization. this being how rude or polite they are, and in some cases, Gender.

[xiaosonlybeloved]

Too Late~ Dazai Osamu

featuring:- PM!Dazai Osamu, gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned), Chuuya (briefly) warnings:- angst, hurt/no comfort, being hostage, mentions of torture in captivity, graphic mentions of blood and violence, major character death, lmk if i missed anything a/n:- im already sighing on looking at the warnings... it IS bsd i suppose.. well here's what im best at again, in a new fandom, so have some angst that is VERY late set some time before Odasaku's death

wc:- 2.5k || masterlist

Not many people knew what it was like to have known Dazai before he joined the Port Mafia. To be one of the few people who had been trusted by him. Keyword being ‘had’- for some, some unfathomable reason, he’d drifted away, leaving you behind, alone. Making you wonder if for some reason he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

It hurt. It hurt that you could lose him so easily, despite having been with him throughout the years, making sure he knew that you would always be there for him, silently tending to him after yet another attempt. It hurt because you had no idea what you did wrong to push him away. It hurt because he didn’t care anymore, for you, for them, for your shared childhood. 

A fool could have probably known that you shouldn’t have gotten so close to the brunette, that he leaves nothing but a trail of suffering and sorrow in the wake of the people who dared to care for him. You, however, argued that he wasn’t like this before. At all. Again, a fool’s excuse.

Perhaps the Port Mafia had changed him, so much more than it changed you. Because now, he was completely unrecognisable, almost like he was a different person altogether. And you can’t help but dully wonder where the man you once knew almost inside out went, the man who once did his best to stay with you no matter what, when he abandoned you yet again during a joint mission ordered by Mori, citing some logical reasons of why it was better for you to not be with him during a mission. (Like always.) Not even bothering to get your opinion or response, something he never did before joining the Mafia.

You watch silently as the brunette slowly disappears into the horizon, leaving you behind. Again.

That night, as you return to your apartment alone once again, (Bittersweet memories surface in your mind- young Dazai cheerily walking you back home, laughing.), you get the distinct feeling that something is off. You are a mafioso after all, you need to have a keen sense for danger to be alive in this industry. You’re instantly on high alert, even though you look calm as always, with your hands in your coat pockets, ready to pull out your knives in a moment. But you still can’t sense anyone following you. Just to be sure, you take a detour home. 

You take a deep breath at the threshold of your door, relieved to be back here. That sense of danger wasn’t as prominent anymore, and you were dying to get some sleep in an attempt to get a certain brunette out of your mind. You’d deal with whatever the problem was tomorrow- you’d had enough today. You can’t help but smile forlornly as you walk into your dimly lit home-

-And then suddenly you’re falling, falling, into a void of darkness, surrounded by the people you care, by him, hurling words at you that stab you like a thousand knives in a nightmare, and dumbly you realise that you walked right into an ability user’s trap, before the unknown ability takes your consciousness, bringing a silent darkness and pain. 

*********

Mimic. A foreign organisation, a group of extremely skilled soldiers who sought the Port Mafia for unknown reasons. People who are willing to go to extreme lengths to get what they wanted- much like your own boss, really. And the ones who are your captors.

You can’t move, you’ve been chained. You assume that they want someone valuable to the Mafia as a hostage, and apparently you serve the purpose well. And dammit, you’ve been completely disarmed while unconscious, you can’t feel a single weapon on you. You’re alone, too, but there’s definite signs that someone’s been here, multiple times. There’s also an assortment of sharp weapons some distance away from you, and you think its cruel to leave them in your sight but out of reach. There’s no windows or openings either.

Footsteps echo outside the door of the room you’ve been kept in, breaking your survey of the room and your thoughts of escape routes. Two men walk in, dignified. It’s clear that they are war-trained soldiers. One of them stops talking with a grin, as he notices you awake.

**********

They want an individual from the Mafia on orders of their boss. They claim that Mori has been taking too long in making a decision, and they apparently hope their decision to take you captive will either force Mori to choose, or force you to give up the individual’s identity yourself in exchange for your freedom under pressure. But you can’t, won’t do the latter.

Because the individual they want is Oda Sakunosuke, Dazai’s new best friend, and you know damn well that he would utterly despise you if you gave up his identity, if you took away the one who gave him his reason to smile these days. Bitter thoughts cloud your mind, of how he abandoned you completely over some new friends, and you wonder if it would be better to just tell them. But then, your mafia sense kicks in, reasoning that if Mori doesn’t want his identity to be revealed yet, then you're probably as good as dead if you choose for him instead and return alive. (You would later realise that this thinking, too, was planned out by Mori, that bastard.) Your captors let hints slide that they’ll let your absence build up for a while, then let the Mafia know of your being their captive. Hopefully they do something. 

You’ll just have to do your best to get out of those damn bonds by then, or survive till then. This was a very convenient time to wish that Dazai had taught you his little trick on how to unlock handcuffs, you think wistfully.

*********

As it turns out, surviving is an extremely hard thing to do after a few days have passed since Mori was apparently informed about the news of your captivity. Mori still hadn’t responded with his decision. Proof being the various cuts and bruises littering your skin already, a few small bloodstains already on the wall and floor. Not too much. Yet. They were intent on forcing your answer out of you, and clearly wouldn’t mind going to extremes for it.

You did your utmost to not make a single reaction when the knife pierced through your skin again, despite the pain that shot through your body for the umpteenth time. Unfortunately, you were well trained on how to not divulge information in captivity- after all, the Port Mafia really couldn’t risk their insider secrets getting out. 

You were still intent on escaping, on getting out. You still had a flicker of hope in you, that someone would come for you, that he might come for you, despite the past few days proving fruitless. You refused to give up yet. You still believed in him, in them, that you wouldn’t be abandoned so easily by your kin.

‘Such a naive belief’, you would dully think some days later.

********

Hope seemed like such a foolish thing now. You had lost track of time in the room without windows. No idea of how many days or weeks had passed. They weren’t coming for you. Of course they weren’t. You weren’t that important anyways, easily replaceable. Casualties happened often, what did it matter if someone died by being taken hostage? You truly attempted to free yourself, many times. You never succeeded, and each time you only received more wounds as punishment. Your captors were merciless, to say the least.

Wounds. That seemed like a small word to use at this point, with how battered and bruised you were. Your clothes were bloodsoaked, and you’d lost count of the number of scars and cuts you’d gained from your captors a long while ago. You could sense they were getting extremely frustrated by the lack of response. You didn’t mind, you didn’t care. You’d even stopped screaming when they cut you particularly deep- you just didn’t have any strength left in you at all. You passed out a few times from extreme blood loss. You could almost hear Mori in your mind, scolding you to get up already. 

Mori. Of course, everything was probably a part of his heartless plans, fully willing to use any number of pawns for their execution.

At this point, you just wanted to be put out of your misery.

Your wish was granted some time- days?- later.

*******

Dazai was initially relieved when you didn’t show up to your next joint mission. He wouldn’t have to ensure your safety and hide his feelings again. But he’d quickly figured out that something was wrong when you didn’t show up again, and again, and you were nowhere to be seen around the Port Mafia buildings either. He’d gathered up the courage to go to your apartment, but had immediately sensed the ability at the entrance and deactivated it. That was what confirmed it for him, and finally, he allowed himself to feel fear for his childhood best friend. For you.

He was well aware that he didn’t deserve to, after how terribly he treated you in an attempt to protect himself from his emotions. His only defence was that he was afraid of hurting you- he knew his reputation well. But that didn’t matter right now- he had to find you. Except not a single person had a clue of your whereabouts. The only person he hadn’t questioned yet was Mori. 

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to go beyond the doors of Mori’s office. He was scared. Scared of what he’d find.

Again, that would prove to be one of his biggest mistakes, when Kouyou grimly approached him, having accidentally obtained information about you that she wasn’t even supposed to know in Mori’s office. Kouyou cared for you enough to let Dazai know of your situation.

Dazai felt sick to the core when he saw the single picture attached in the message Kouyou sent him, along with a decision to choose between you and the future-seeing ability user- Odasaku. His heart dropped into his stomach even more when he saw that the last message was a few days ago. What if-?

No. Dazai refused to think of that possibility. He’d track down the source of that picture, he’d hunt them down, make them regret their decision, and he’d get you back. He’d make sure of it. He had too many apologies he owed to you after all, even if they would never make up for all that he’d done. He would.

*******

You were surprised that their boss hadn’t shown up to interrogate you yet. You simply stared hollowly at the walls as the door slammed open and the highest-ranked individual in the facility walked in, knife in hand. 

Not a single piece of information slipped past your mouth, as he went through the routine torture process. 

Time passes, and you can see that he’s grown extremely frustrated with your lack of response. One of the others standing at the door, watching your misery, suggested that he simply kill you and get it over with. It was pointless to keep you around anymore.

‘Finally’ you think darkly. You didn’t think you could hold out for much longer. 

You close your eyes, not wanting to see your killer. Instead, you remember the people you care for, silently apologising to them for giving up. Somewhere, in the background, you hear the distant noises of shouting. Probably some of the other soldiers playing cards or something again.

Despite you willing yourself to not make a sound, a shattering scream tears itself out of your throat when you feel the knife harshly stabbed straight into your heart. Your killer twisted it roughly- another scream, your last- and then pulled the knife out. 

You feel yourself fall forward, double in on yourself, wrists held back to the wall. The agony is excruciating, but hopefully it won’t last long. To you, it feels as if your screams are echoing in the room, or maybe in your mind, and your vision has gone blurry in pain. But then, you realise through your numb haze that your screams do not sound like that- you’ve heard the sound enough.You realize that maybe someone has attacked your captors.

There’s a terrified shout mixed in all the clamor, and its a voice that you would recognise anywhere. ‘But there’s no way’, you think hollowly. No one cared enough to come for you.

Then you feel yourself falling forward suddenly, blood gushing out from your chest, into someone’s familiar arms as your eyes close. The handcuffs are gone. Faintly, you hear a voice- his voice- through the ringing in your ears, saying something unintelligible to you. You can’t understand what's being said, but you struggle to open your eyes one last time to see.

And somehow, Dazai is there, holding you tightly, eyes full of panic and terror, everyone else in the room crushed to the ground. He’s saying something worriedly to someone behind him- Chuuya. You briefly wonder if you’re hallucinating, but decide against it- this all feels too real. This must have been the shouts in the distance.

They came for you. In the end, they came, albeit a bit too late. You feel yourself being lifted, and then Dazai is running out, holding you carefully as if you could break any moment- you’re already broken though. You feel the cool night breeze for the first time in ages, see the beautiful moon again. A small smile rests on your lips as you feel yourself finally fall limp in his arms. ‘He still looks as pretty as before, and maybe, just maybe, he still cares for you’, is what you think.

You shut your eyes again, surrendering yourself to the darkness beyond the agony.

********

Horrified is much too mild a word to use, when he sees your condition. When he sees you being stabbed in front of his eyes, when you fall limp in his arms. The next moments are a panicked blur, Chuuya saying something to take you somewhere, that he’ll handle this place. He runs straight out, towards the Mafia building, towards the doctors, towards the hospital, anywhere, anywhere you can be saved. 

But its already too late, he knows it when you don’t move in his arms anymore, when your bleeding chest doesn’t rise and fall again, and he doesn’t know what else to do apart from screaming in sorrow and fear, because he’s just lost the one person who understood him like no one else, who cared for him like no one else, who he stupidly pushed away, and its all because of him. He falls to his knees, still clutching your lifeless, bleeding body. Your face had a hint of a smile in your last few moments, and that is what finally breaks him. All he can do is cry out apologies continuously, tears freely streaming down his face, for everything he’s done wrong, for how he’s treated you, for being too late to save you.

finallyyy, and as usual, votes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated also lmk if you guys want a happy ending :D

[genderkoolaid]

sorry im gonna aut out for a second going off these tags

this book is so fucking aggravating because the author's (cis man. ofc.) reasoning for why the P.U.F isn't trans is because they didn't seem to struggle with their gender before becoming the P.U.F (we have no way of knowing this btw. not only do we have limited information on their personal life before transitioning, but whose to say they ever showed signs of being trans openly? whose to say their near-death experience didn't awaken something inside them?) and since their rebirth was due to "spiritual factors" instead "some long-term struggle over [their] identity" (because it would have to be a struggle, right?), we should only view them in the context of women's history and not trans* history.

which makes me want to rend flesh with my teeth!!!! sir you CANNOT separate spirituality from identity like that. were the priestesses of inanna not trans* despite taking on women's clothing, names, language, because they viewed their gender as a spiritual event? its so ridiculous to take someone who literally changed their entire identity because of this spiritual rebirth, and then call them by their birth name and she/her pronouns and be like "well since SHE didn't struggle with HER gender before, then SHE isn't trans!"

and its not like this is some "ohh we don't know what they would have wanted," the P.U.F made it very clear they were not Jemima, they would not tolerate being seen as her, they dressed androgynously on purpose, their followers considered them a neutral spirit. They identified as the Public Universal Friend, it doesn't matter whether you think they really were a spirit from Heaven. They did everything possible to express "I am not who I used to be and my gender is not the same as it was," how is this not trans??????? Because they weren't the fucking textbook transsexual that is the only True Trans allowed to exist???????? god forbid a trans* person's gender be more than some hellish struggle. god forbid other parts of our identity affect our gender and be inseparable. and god forbid a trans* person assigned female do literally anything because if they aren't a cis woman somehow their defiance of the patriarchy is no longer radical. paul moyer meet me in the fucking parking lot i'm gonna break your nose what is this shit. can't trust a cis to do a trans' job.

[moonrisecoeur]

IM BACK CUZ IM MENTALLY UNWELL OK. and yes you’re the best sub Leon writer 😏🥱 and yes I liked it, SITTING ON HIS FACE? 😍🥱

I’m so sorry for blasting ur req box but YOURE AN ACTUALLY GOOD SUB LEON WRITER SO can you blame me? concept: idk why but re4 Leon is so free use coded and so imagine he is on a mission with a new assigned partner but she’s an asshole to him (“fuck off man, I can do it myself, “I don’t need your help”, “you’re too nice and gonna be taken advantage of 😐”, etc. You get the gist) and his goofy ass just tryna be nice and helpful, cuz this is leon we are talking about. But the fun part ⁉️ they have cameras installed in the hideout they are saying at for security purposes. But ofc, Leon always tries to check on reader to make sure she’s ok - even if she’s an asshole to him. AND YK WHAT READER DOES 😭 she’s way too horny and just goes at it, girl got a masturbation problem on god. Every night. One night - wrong time and place - Leon opens his laptop to see the cameras making sure she’s ok AND HELP HE SEES HER … yk. And he feels guilty like he shouldn’t watch but he does anyways. And this goes on for weeks. Until one night he’s sick and tired of her always being so mean and he accidentally lets it slip that he’s been watching her LOL AND SHES LIKE UHM BOY WHAT 🙄⁉️ and he tries to play it off like “I didnt mean to” but like, my brother in Christ… you’ve been watching every night for weeks 🤨 wdym you didn’t mean to? ANYWAYS LONG STORY SHORT SHE PUNISHES HIM AND HEAVYYYY ON THE FREE USE THING. Love you bae 😘

i made a couple minor changes just for convenience :) fem reader she/her pronouns!

also i didn’t write the smex scene IM SORRY but i have been working on this all day and i need to get to other asks but i promise i’ll write some more free use in the future because it’s so smexy

-

"look, i know you don't like me-"

"oh? really? tell me what you think you know, kennedy," you scowl at him, and though it spooks him just a little, he tries to seem unphased.

he frowns, not hurt by your words but definitely concerned that you'll make a bad partner, "you don't need to be this hostile. we're allies. we're supposed to have each other's backs."

"right..." your voice echos, and leon knows that if it came down to it, you wouldn't protect him, wouldn't save him, would barely help him. he's practically on his own for this mission, just has an extra body with him to shoot at the bad guys.

it hurts, to some degree, because even without knowing you well, and even with you being cold and rude to him, he knows he'd come to your rescue in a heartbeat. something about him feels fond of you, even though in your entire time knowing leon kennedy, you haven't said one nice thing to him.

he thinks that maybe he likes that you've never been nice to him. he doesn't really know what to do with that thought.

-

leon is proved wrong.

despite the harshness of your words, you come to his rescue, fighting off the villager who almost decapitated him with an axe like both of your lives depend on it (because they do).

he watches you fight nervously, but when you come out on top, aside from the gash wound you take to the hip, he feels his heart skip a beat.

"this is what happens when you hurt my partner," you groan, holding your side, trying to speak through the pain even though leon can see the blood seeping between your fingers.

you whisper something in your victim's ear, something leon can't quite make out, before you kill him. leon wonders what it was briefly. he decides it doesn’t matter.

you both breathe a sigh of relief, but it's short lived as you collapse to the ground. you saved him. you got hurt saving him.

"here, let me help you," he mutters, coming over to you, not even stopping to ask if you want his help because he knows you'll say no, "stop fighting me. you're hurt and i need to patch you up."

the pain is agonizing, but even through gritted teeth and tense breaths, you push through it. he has to commend you a little bit, you're tougher than you look.

but when you try to push his hand away, claiming "i'm fine, kennedy," he sees the struggle in your face, hears the hurt in your voice. his heart seems to stop. he's worried, "i can do it myself, you don't have to- fuck, dude, i don't need your help-."

"-just relax, okay? i got you..”

you don't have the strength to push him away, but you know you shouldn't anyway, so you just slouch back against the wall and try to breathe, "fine, just fuckin... hurry up."

"i'm just trying to take care of you. we're partners, right? i gotta look out for you," he smiles, trying to lighten the mood even slightly. he wishes that this would be the time the barriers come down, that those skyscraper walls that prevented him from coming any closer to you emotionally could come crashing down, if only for a moment.

"you don't have to do anything. you're choosing to put yourself in danger to help me," you groan as you lean back, looking up at the ceiling, "suprised that no one's tried to take advantage of your willingness to help before."

"someone did," he mutters annoyedly, focusing more on the wound then it being your wound, on your body. his eyebrows, almost naturally furrowed from years of stress, somehow make his face even more sad to gaze upon. it's not that he's unattractive, far from it, but he's... worn. tired. a piece of your heart, no matter how far you keep away from him, aches in sympathy.

-

leon carries you back to the safe room, a hideout you both are using to rest and recover in while you plot your next move. he lays his jacket on the ground to at least give you something comfortable to lie on. you don't look comfortable, but he can't do anything else to help you.

he looks through his things, trying to concoct something that will at least make you feel a little bit better. he finds a first aid spray, and his heart jumps out of his chest in excitement. he uses it to take care of your wound, and waits for you to wake up from your unconscious state.

he decides to go back out, hoping to maybe find some other things to help you both on your mission. he knows you'll berate him for leaving on his own, risking his own life needlessly. but god if he didn't imagine what it would be like if he found something you could really use, and watch your eyes light up. even if you didn't like him, you'd be happy. he wants to see you smile, to praise him for a job well done.

he cringes at how pathetic it sounds, but he sets off either way, leaving you wrapped in his jacket with a note from him saying what he's doing.

-

he doesn't do it intentionally. at least... not the first time. genuinely, he just wanted to check up on you, make sure you were alive and breathing and safe. and you definitely were.

he doesn't know why its so hypnotizing, why he can't put his goddamn phone away with the stupid security app on it. of course it's you, though. you're hypnotizing.

he watches every pixel, every distorted view of you touching yourself in the safe room, obviously unaware that he could... see this. he's glad there's no audio, or else he'd be unable to control himself, even in an abandoned building surrounded by zombies. maybe its the years that haven hardened him, burned the fear out of his soul and numbed him to the presence of those things, but he doesn't feel anything but uncontrollable desire right now.

have you been doing it the whole time? you both had spilt off from each other multiple times, and he would almost be upset at the idea that every time he was fighting for his life and barely, barely winning that fight each time, you were getting off a couple hundred feet from him in another room... if it wasn't so fucking hot to watch you masturbate.

he keeps watching until he notices that you're having an orgasm, body twitching and your chest heaving up and down as you take deep breathes. it's so fucking sexy, leon probably could have cum on the spot if he watched anymore.

-

you keep doing it. he keeps watching it. over the course of the mission (of course he had to be stuck on a long, secluded recon mission with you of all people) he's watched you too many times. he doesn't think he has enough fingers to count how many times, which either means he's been on this mission longer than he thought or you have a fucking addiction. he's almost kind of impressed at how efficient you are. takes you 10 minutes tops, and then you just get back up and keep on trucking? his sentimental, post-nut ass could never.

and, though you recovered from your wound, you haven't displayed any sense of gratitude for leon taking care of you when you passed out after getting hurt. not that he expects it, truthfully. you saved his life, he saved yours. you were even.

he just doesn't feel like he's broken any new ground. he feels like, if anything, you feel even further away, emotionally. he's about had it.

"hey, we need to talk," he says, ominously; he doesn't intend it to be so, "i understand you don't like me. it's fine. i don't even care anymore. but i am tired of you talking to me like i'm a pushover."

you look over at him, reloading your gun with a displeased look on your face. leon hates the inner urge he has to cave and apologize to you, as if his body would rather give up any sense of dignity he still has in favor of being slightly more tolerable to you.

"well? are you going to say something?"

you scoff, looking away, "didn't know you were so fucking sensitive, kennedy," and you turn around, ready to walk out, before he snaps, "this isn't a pleasure trip. sorry you're not having a good time."

"clearly you're having a good time with all the pleasure you're giving yourself while i'm trying not to die."

he stops. panicking. trying to think of how to spin the words he just said and make it not sound like he knew every tell you had when you were about to cum or exactly how you touch yourself in order to get yourself off quickly.

you stop as well. and you look back at him with this expression on your face that is completely unreadable.

maybe it wasn't the best move to reveal the only card he had left to play if it mean he would get this reaction out of you considering that, again, you so clearly do not like him.

... right?

"what... did you say, kennedy?" you ask, pure venom in your voice. it's not a question, you so clearly heard him correctly.

"i- i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that-"

"have you been watching me?" you take a step closer, eyes boring into his soul so intensely he can't make eye contact. he has no way out of this situation. he feels out of breath, nervous, god why are you getting so close to him? "answer me, leon," not kennedy, leon, "have you been watching me masturbate?"

he looks up, trying to keep himself from making eye contact. he knows the second he looks into your eyes, he will be putty in your hands, free for you to mold into whatever you'd like. he knows you're not looking at him with distain like usual, it's something else.

something hungry.

"yeah," he breathes, barely getting the world out at all. you take a deep breath, as if you're debating what you're going to do.

"what you did was wrong, you see that, right?"

"yes, i know, but-"

you scoff, annoyed. god why in this moment, just inches away from you, you notice the moles on his neck, the angle of his jaw, the entrancing aura of his eyes. it's so damn distracting, and you have to pull yourself together, "but nothing. you watched me without my consent, you got off on it, didn't you?"

"god, you're making it sound so bad, i... i'm sorry, okay? how can i make it up to you?" he asks, trying so damn hard as always to please.

this is where you come to realize that maybe you didn't hate leon kennedy all this time. maybe you found yourself too comfortable, too at ease in his presence. maybe he was safe and sweet and gentle and it didn't sit right because nothing in a world with zombies and bioweapons and cults and parasites was gentle. but leon is.

you look down, considering your options, "i have an idea. you're free to refuse and we go back to before, and you get nothing from me. do you want to hear it?"

"sure?"

you take a breath, going for it, "i’ll be… blunt. if you couldn’t tell, i’m a bit.. insatiable. i need something to get myself off now that i’m getting bored of my own hands out here. you help me, and i’ll forgive you for watching me.”

his thoughts stop. he genuinely can’t put together a coherent thought, what did you mean? "are you.. are you fucking serious? you barely speak to me, every time you do speak to me you act like i'm the scum of the earth, you act like i'm not here when i saved your ass and carried you and patched you up, i-”

you cut him off with a kiss. it’s not gentle, it’s rough and messy and your fingers dig into the skin of his cheeks, leaving him red and breathless. he finally gets it. you don’t want him to help you, you want to use him.

he lets you push him down, pin his body to the wall as you kiss him breathless. he lets you dig your nails into his neck even if it hurts. he lets you touch and kiss him as rough or as gentle as you like. and you don’t like being gentle, clearly.

“use me,” he whispers between kisses, and when you pull away, eyeing him intently, as if urging him to explain himself, he does, “do whatever you want. just keep going until you’re satisfied. don’t… don’t hold back. whatever pleases you… i want that. i want to please you.”

“awh, you just want me to be happy with you, don’t you?” you coo at him, endeared by his selflessness. truly a good man in a bad world, “that’s all you’ve ever wanted, hm? for me to like you?”

his resolve cracks just a little bit more, “uhm, yeah…” he his voice is shaky, unsteady, and he just needs to give in.

“then you’re going to let me do this every single time in horny and need something to get myself off. i’m going to do whatever i want to you, and i’m not going to ask. you’re just going to let me. if you don’t, then we go right back to being enemies, and you really don’t want that, right?”

he stutters aimlessly, his knees going weak. he’d truly be done for if you weren’t hold him up with a strength he did not know you had.

and you just keep going, “i’m not going to ask or care if it’s a bad time. i want it to be inconvenient, uncomfortable, ill-timed. i want it to be permanently in your head that i can have you whenever i want you. that i can do whatever i want to you.”

“only i get to have you, got it?”

“g-got it,” he mutters weakly, feeling your hands on him, touching him in places he hasn’t been touched in a while. he didn’t realize how desperate he was.

“only i get to touch you, only i… get to fuck you.”

he nods helplessly.

“it’s too bad i didn’t bring a dildo in my bag when we set off for this mission, because i would so fuck you with it until you’re seeing stars and apologizing for going behind my back… but i suppose i’ll just have to satisfy myself with your cock…”

[cheersyouslxg]

here me out, soap fucking both you and him so damn good and hard it sends you both into a frenzy of overstimulation 😵‍💫😵‍💫 just two very fucked out idiots in love <3

╰┈➤ 🧼 Soap 🧼 »»———- When in Love ———-««

┆ ┆ MDNI - 18+┆ ┆ Triggers: Smut, swearing I think, overstim, hard dom reference

I HEAR YOU I HEAR YOU I see soap as SUCH a hard dom. Thorough, takes his time, knows what makes you tick and will go to the extremes until you’re shaking underneath him and can’t even beg anymore for him to stop. THAT’S when he knows he’s done his job. Not a moment before. 

And the aftercare? It’s mandatory, of course, and he does his job well to assure you how well you’ve done taking it like a good whore for HIM and only him. 

But what about when he’s lovingly rough? That’s a whole new side to him. 

(Also, i have such a weird time writing ‘you’ and im so so sorry… so i just do ‘she’ butttt lmk if you prefer they/them or would like a gender neutral- could be male or female- or he/him specified!) For this ask I’m assuming afab, she/her pronouns! xx

~~~

The mission had been a huge success, but that wasn’t the only cause for celebration. One year with the most perfect woman in the world… Three hundred and sixty-five days of pure bliss anytime he thought about her at home in their bed. Having someone to come home to gave him a new sense of purpose to succeed that he hadn’t realized he needed. Anytime he was due to come home came with the anticipation of waiting, sitting eagerly on the couch and then pacing impatiently at the door once the half hour countdown began. 

Like always, he was expecting to throw his bags down, leaving them at the door to accept her into his arms which she always jumped into. Her choice of apparel had been noted well after he took in her scent deeply, hugging her close with a half assed kick to the door behind him. 

“Sweetheart, god, I missed you.” He breathed, one more squeeze placed around her before he was pulling back for a kiss. Then he noticed what she was wearing, a smirk lifting across his face which held a five o’clock shadow from a few days gone by without shaving. The stubbled kiss was sought out despite his hesitation as he now wanted to gawk at her form, her hands coming to his cheek and pulling him in. 

“I missed you more. Happy anniversary, my love.” Mumbled against his lips, declaring her undying adoration for the man she promised from day one to give her everything to. Traveling hands snaked under her rear, squeezing the sparsely clothed flesh with a hum. 

“Such a pretty present… I think it’s time to unwrap you, gorgeous,” 

To the bed they had picked out together she was unwrapped after a painfully long amount of time of Soap simply… admiring her. He had every intention of stripping her from her confines, but before he felt it would be criminal to ignore how much effort she put into this outfit. The lingerie hugged every curve and dip of her body like it was tailor made to accentuate her natural beauty. His lips worshiped the exposed flesh, tongue teasing over the textured fabrics between her legs, giving a hint of what nectar pooled against the fabric in her arousal. 

Her squirms and whines did little to deter him, promising her pleasure if she was patient to allow him to explore and become reunited with his treasure. “Be a good girl. Don’t make me remind you what happens when you disobey, eh?” Teeth nipped at her sensitive flesh, warning her he had not changed views on the severity of discipline. 

She never worried whether or not her needs would be met, and that evening was no different. As he had promised, he delicately removed the clothing from her body, teasing her even then by his languid pace. ‘Darlin’, I haven’t seen you in so long…. I want to ravish you.’ He would say, silencing any potential protest with a searing kiss as his impressive bulge ground into her need. The whine it produced was enough to convince him to drop the bullshit, tearing at his pants while she clawed the shirt from his body and sought the heat of his flesh.   

Any gentleness he might have had in store had dissolved the moment he caught a taste of what he’d been missing for too long overseas serving. The initial stretch of her welcoming heat, rolling hips matching the breathy moan he earned which drooled from her kiss-swollen lips. 

“Good god, you take me so well,” it would keep him faithful even in the struggle of loneliness, for he knew already that no one could ever compare to her. His thrusts were needy, hungry with a passion so raw it was almost overwhelming after so long without his touch. Clawing, scratching, pulling one another closer, it was all he could do to quickly remove the distance each time he pulled back to reenter her. 

His praises were softer than normal, but she cherished them just the same. Where ‘my dirty slut’ would sputter from his lips, tonight, it was replaced with ‘my only love’. His native tongue lavished her in compliments she hardly could understand but knew to be praises, melting under his harsh touch and romantic words. Soap was sure to remark every inch of her body, fingers digging bruisingly hard into her hips, pressed into the mattress firmly as he drilled his cock again and again just so to unravel her resolve and have her milking his length for what would be the first of many orgasms. 

One blinding, world tilting climax after the other shook her raw to her core, muddying her mind until the only word she could mutter was his name. A plea, a praise, a prayer, he became the very breath she inhaled desperately upon each glorious thrust pressing him closer. One of his favorite positions ended the evening, his hand securely caressing her throat as he kept her tucked against his chest, rocking into her from behind. His thrusts had become jerkish rutting, moaning hotly against her ear with panted breaths, undoubtedly assuring her that neither one of them would be moving the morning until the sun had crested midday. Words had become uttered whimpers, reaching behind for his hand he gladly squeezed and intertwined with his fingers.  

“I- love you… so much, y/n. I love you, baby.” Repeated again and again, Soap gently guided her to another orgasm, hot tears pooling anew down her cheeks from the overexertion. She ached in the best of ways, able to hear her heartbeat in her ears, trembling in ecstasy with a pitiful whine as he finally pulled away, curling behind her and adjusting her so she was comfortable. Strong, capable hands soothed her shaking limbs. His sweet murmurs lulling her to sleep.

[februarybluues]

enemies with benefits || 3 - can't be love.

warnings: cursing, hobie is an idiot, she/her pronouns used to describe reader, this entire fic is literally just hobie denying his feelings for you

read previous part here -- series masterlist

next part - girl (you really got me goin')

a/n: hiii!! fair warning this is not my best work, im quite disappointed in how this turned out actually. BUT! the next part is literally my favorite in the series and i am SO EXCITED to share it with you!!!

It was crazy how much your friendship with Hobie had changed since you first met him. Granted, ‘friendship’ was a stretch. You were barely friends, you barely even tolerated him. Regardless!

Over time, you noticed how his behaviour changed towards you. His rude comments and teasing insults stayed the same. – but they felt different. You noticed how ‘mate’ evolved into ‘love’, and in all honesty, you weren’t complaining. At first, the pet name was his favorite trick to pull on you; only used in instances where he wanted to be especially annoying. But, soon enough its intentions changed. Now it’s like a habit. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t stop himself from calling you that. ‘Love.’ By that point, both you and him were conflicted. Was it sincerity or spite? Did he mean it? Hell, not even he knew. Unspoken questions that you shared. It was stupid, really. I mean, he wasn’t sure if he meant it when he called you love, but he hates you? It was ridiculous. You should know whether you hate someone or not. It was one of the easiest emotions to differentiate from love. So why was he struggling so much? It was evident that you were sworn enemies. So why did his heart double in size every time he was near you?

Your relationship… improved, to say the least. After a few months, you found yourselves hanging out a lot more. – not intentionally! Hobie just so happened to tag along with you whenever you hung out with pavitr, miles and gwen. That was it. You weren’t hanging out more on purpose! Until… eventually it was on purpose.

“I’m just saying!” you lifted your hands up in surrender. You, Miles, Gwen, Pav and Hobie were sat around on an abandoned rooftop in your world. It became a frequent ‘mandatory hangout spot’ that you took immense pride in. you were arguing with miles over something. Hobie was unsure what. He didn’t quite care. He wasn’t paying attention. The light from the setting-sun danced on your skin; making you look almost angelic. and he was absolutely mesmerized by you, to say the least. You were just - perfect. “Hobie? Are you even listening?” Miles asked. “Yeah, yeah. I am.” he cleared his throat, and readjusted his posture, sitting up straight. “Oh yeah? Then what were we talking about?” you joined in, sitting down next to him; your knees barely grazed against one another, but that didn't fail to make butterflies whirl around in your heart. “Y’were talkin’ 'bout uh-” he couldn’t bullshit his way out of this situation, because he wasn’t prepared for it. Luckily, he didn’t have to. “I know my company must be sooo boring but could you at least pretend to be having fun?” You joked, playfully shoving his knee with your hand. He scoffed at you, and ignored the feeling of his face slightly burning up at the sudden contact. -- or at least he tried.

“Well ‘ave you considered bein’ entertainin’?” you put a hand on your chest, feigning offense. “Are you saying I'm not entertaining?” He tried to hold back a small smile (he failed horribly). “ ‘s true though. You’re real borin’." he fake yawned. "Fallin’ asleep right now actually.” you scoffed at him. “Well you better wake the fuck up!” “Wha’ if I don’t?” you rolled your eyes at him. By this point, Pavitr couldn’t stop whispering to miles and gwen about the supposed 'tension between the both of you’. You half-smiled. “I’ll make you.” “Oh yeah? Go on. Make me.” Miles then broke up the situation, clearing his throat. You looked back at him, confused. “Let’s not forget about the children that are present.” Gwen said, giving you a knowing look. “What do you mean?” you asked, and Pavitr quickly chimed in.

“Don’t act so clueless! You were obviously flirting with each other!”

You were quick to jump up and defend yourself. “I was not flirting with him! He’s a prick!” he nodded at that.

 “I was.” hobie said - so casually. “What?” your head turned back to look at him. His face was the same as always; smug, yet relaxed. Handsome, even. wait what? “I was flirtin’ with ya.” he confessed. he looked right into your eyes as if he hadn’t said that. You were confused. Was he being serious?

Suddenly, it fell silent. No one uttered a word. They all just - stared at hobie; almost as shocked as you were. And then he burst into laughter. “Nah i’m jus’ takin’ the piss.'' A part of you was disappointed. Everyone shared a quick laugh at that. Admittedly, He was only partially telling the truth. While he was joking– hoping his unexpected response would make you angry–, a part of him was flirting with you. And a certain someone quickly figured that out.

After that moment, Pavitr made it his top priority to pester Hobie about you. Whether it be small comments like “Did you see that look she gave you? I’m telling you! It’s true love!”, or roughly elbowing him every time something slightly romantic happened between the both of you. He even found ways to make sure you and him had time alone together. He kept this up until eventually, hobie had enough of his shit and spoke out. “Pav, man! I don’t like ‘er! Jus’ step off o’that shite, yeah?” – of course, Pavitr does not stop. If anything, it made his teasing even worse. It became insufferable. No matter how many times Hobie insisted that he hated you, Pav could see right through him; he knew him better than he knew himself. But Hobie refused to listen to him. Because he didn’t love you. He knew it, you knew it, it was obvious.

It got to a point where Hobie stormed out of the room, in a fit of rage. He’d had enough of  the relentless teasing. – needed time alone. But, only ended up lost in his thoughts. It started off normally; he was annoyed at Pav, and then started thinking about all the things he was saying, which then evolved into him thinking about you. Yeah, you were pretty, brave, and hard-working. Not to mention you were always willing to help people. You put others before yourself. But that didn’t mean shit! He was just kind of really maybe a bit fond of you. That's all!

There’s no way he loved you! What he was feeling must've been some sort of hatred he wasn't familiar with, or at least that's what he told himself. His brain was just confusing him; distracting him. Was this a trick? Was he being brainwashed? Is that why he felt so lost without you around him? No. He didn’t love you. He just tolerated you a lot. You were manipulating him. You must’ve put a spell on him. Mhm. That was the only logical explanation as to why his heart fluttered at the sight of you! He grinned at the revelation. Now that he had it ‘figured out’, it was time to one-up you.

It was time to get revenge. He’d make you pay for being so fucking irresistible. 

taglist: @elloelloello293874 @lavnderluv @ginseng-green-tea @ididntwantthisbutithappened @thatweirdgirlsposts @clown420cunt @sh-tposter2021 @wannabe-fic-reader

if you wanna be added just let me know pookie

[og-danny-dorito]

[ VOYEUR : GOJO X M!READER HEADCANONS & BLURB ]

[ A/N ] : came to me in a moment of clarity while i was scrolling through content for him on tiktok. this is my design (gay men kissing)

[ CW ] : MDNI 18+, AMAB!reader, he/him pronouns for reader, established relationship, pet names, degradation, all parties are consenting

its a SERIOUS ego boost unsurprisingly LMAO

no im being so ffr rn i cannot possibly explain to you how much he's into the whole being watched while undressing/getting off thing

gojo isn't stupid; he knows you like watching him from the way your eyes linger on him while he's getting ready for work in the morning to how he always finds your gaze straying to him when you're in public

and honestly? it's comforting to him, a way to add fuel flame of his nearly insatiable need to be wanted, to be desired

but he didn't know you'd like watching him like this

well, he had a hunch you would at least. he figured it out when he first caught you watching him while he was jacking off in the shower after a long day of work, having decided to let off some steam while he waited for you to get home

he could hear you come in, but didn't bother to stop considering he thought you'd get flustered like you normally do and just go about your business as you waited for him to get out

only he heard you stop at the door to listen to him, trying not to do something as simple as breathe so as not to disturb him. he can feel you watching steam surround the cloudy room as he cums, grunting out your name under his breath

it was almost fascinating to him how much you seemed to enjoy it, unable to hide a grin at the sound of you suddenly darting off once he turned off the water, making a move to get out so you wouldn't get "caught"

so he keeps doing it. taking off his clothes to change at an agonizingly slow pace, bending over and posing himself in compromising positions as if he's trying to rile you up on purpose (he is)

there's no way he couldn't have known, really; his six eyes makes it almost impossible to sneak up on him anyway and he's almost surprised that you didn't put those dots together earlier, but he doesn't mind keeping up this little game between you two at all

he likes having the power in his hands to tease you, some power quiet and unspoken in a way that holds much more weight for him than anything he could be doing deliberately

but he pretends like he doesn't for the sake of the game. he waits until you're home, putting on a show for his not-so-secret admirer

like bro's arching his back, moaning your name- he's going the whole mile dude. he's trying to get you as worked up as possible

and when the time finally comes and he can feel you getting close he stops suddenly, going "who's there?" like he doesn't know damn well it's you

as soon as he finds you he grins like he's won some sort of competition you didn't know you were participating in, calling you a perv and saying "If you wanted to watch me get off so badly, why didn't you ask?"

his favorite thing is to catch you and then make you sit down on the opposite side of the room while he continues getting himself off, scolding you and degrading you when you move to touch yourself- or him for that matter

his version of a punishment for your "bad behavior" is just to tease you to see how long you'll last before you're begging to suck him off or have him fuck you or just touch you, really, finally relenting after he too gets impatient

he'll smile and "begrudgingly" agree too it, meanly calling you a "desperate slut" the whole time and making an effort to push you to beg for release

he's almost always going to make you thank him for it once he's done, too, making you cum hands free or finishing in your mouth and getting a sick grin on his face when you whine "thank you" with sensitivity and desperation lacing your tone

in short, he absolutely LOVES it and will 100% encourage it LMAO

"What, watching me isn't enough this time?" His voice comes out mean and teasing, eyes filled with some sort of affectionate mirth that almost feels out of place with the position he's in. It's dark in the room, dimly lit save for your bedside lamp and the streetlights shining through blinds in the window. His vibrant white hair is tousled and unkempt as it usually is, but the slight sheen of sweat that coats his skin and makes some of the snowy white strands stick to his skin makes him almost look heavenly. You think for a moment that despite the insatiable need for release in your gut and the tight fist you have in a near tearing grip on the chair's arm, it might be heaven to be here. Gojo is propped up on the bed with his left arm held at a 90 degree angle so he can look across the room at you, his other one draped across his hip so the grip on his shaft is just loose enough that he can stroke up and down without having to move much else but his hand, the flushing pink tip leaking a lot more precum than you saw when he didn't know you were watching. Well, 'didn't know' is wrong, you've noticed, taking into account the fact that his smile is all to wide for him to not have been plotting this all along. He makes a show of stroking himself almost as he did before, rolling the palm of his hand over the tip during the upstroke and letting out a near pornographic moan at the feeling. You know he's just teasing from the way he jolts a little bit afterwards and giggles at your tense shifting, not daring to take your eyes away from him. Not now, not at that he knows he has your full attention. You'd rather just obey than tear your eyes away from him, and even though you shift to relieve some of the white-hot pressure in your groin it isn't enough to satiate the overwhelming need to just touch him. "No.", you strain out, and he smiles wider, his hand picking up it's pace a bit. "Then why don't you just ask for what you want this time instead of being a little perv about it, hm? Go on, ask." You bite down a retort at the comment but still narrow your eyes a bit, the flush on your cheeks darkening a bit once you realize he won't relent in this teasing until you've nearly humiliated yourself for him. It's almost enough to make you want to tell him to shut the fuck up, but it isn't enough to stop you from visibly gulping down your pride as you shift again, this time nearly ripping the couch with how tightly you're gripping it. "Please let me touch you, Gojo. Please.", you rasp out, adding on the extra plea to try and garner some sort of sympathy from him. And apparently it works enough for him to laugh again, spreading his legs a little wider as he releases his dick from it's hold and motions for you to come over. He cocks his head to the side as he sits up fully now, watching you with need as you nearly lunge at him like a hungry animal, letting you roam your hands over his body as he breathily chants "Good boy." into your neck.

[ THANKS FOR READING! REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED :] ]

[crazyyluvr]

Could you do like a Jason Grace x gf!reader where the reader and him get into a small argument so they end up competing in opposite teams during capture the flag, to sort of avoid eachother, but the reader gets injured during the game and jason is super worried, and they make up afterwards? Gosh im sorry if this is too specific, I just thought I'd be cute haha

Stop Being Nice to Me, I'm Supposed to be Mad at You

pairing: jason grace x gf!reader

summary: in which Jason gets in an argument with you before a Capture the Flag game and you end up avoiding each other... until you get injured, and Jason couldn't let the previous argument stop him from checking up on you.

wc: 1.9k

content: argument, she/her pronouns, set in camp jupiter with some made up characters, jason and reader are in different cohorts for plot purposes, reader uses a spear, reader is a cohort leader

note: i’m so sorry that it took me so long to do this anon, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

short oneshot under the cut :: not proofread

"You —" Jason started, but stopped himself when he noticed that his tone was getting too aggressive. "You could have gotten worse injuries, both you and the newbie."

You sighed, rubbing your temples for the nth time that day. "I know, okay? I dealt with the situation before it could escalate."

You were on patrol with a fellow probatio cohort mate the night before, and an enormous warthog suddenly appeared, wanting to ram the entrance to camp.

You, of course, had to cover for your cohort mate's ass by pushing them out of the way to avoid the warthog's tusks. Your arm almost got skewered in the process, but the fight ended in your favor — a fight that consisted of you screaming bloody murder in the warthog's face and pushing the newbie out of the way constantly before they could get murdered by the large animal.

The only wound you got from that fight is a cut on your cheek. It wasn't that bad, but the fact that it was on your cheek (which is full of blood), it caused quite a red waterfall.

The cut was almost healed by now, the white patch of bandage on your cheek just a precaution to fight off infections. But of course, Jason took it upon himself as your boyfriend to worry excessively over your wellbeing.

Speaking of Jason, he wasn't satisfied with your previous answer. "Either way, you shouldn't have compromised your safety like that. You may have killed the monster before it could get worse, but that still doesn't change the fact that you could have died."

"But I didn't, because I dealt with it," you scoffed. One thing you hated was when people treated you as if you couldn't take care of yourself. You've been able to support yourself on your own for a good while before you discovered Camp Jupiter and got claimed by your godly parent.

You appreciated the blonde boy's concern, but that doesn't change the fact that he thought that you were reckless. I mean, yeah, you kind of were, but that's besides the point.

Jason opened his mouth to protest further, but a horn blaring in the distance interrupted him.

"Hey!" Someone called your name, and you were grateful to have an excuse to look away from Jason's intense blue stare. "We have to strategize for Capture the Flag. You're leading us, remember?"

You spared one last glance at Jason, whose expression was clear: we aren't done. You scoffed again, turning back to your cohort mate — Paul, you think his name was — who happened to be the probatio you were on guard with last night.

"Okay, I'll go with you," You responded, jogging away from Jason. You could feel the heat of his glare at the back of your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care all that much. Capture the Flag was a fairly new game in camp, but that didn't stop it from rising in popularity from how you could be as violent as you want as long as you don't severely hurt anyone.

It was the perfect opportunity for you to let out some steam.

"Did I interrupt something?" Paul asked, worried that he had upset Jason, the son of Jupiter and one of the strongest demigods in camp.

You shook your head. "No, it's fine. Let's just get this show on the road, yeah?"

Paul nodded, the nervousness on his face fading but not entirely as you both jogged towards the assembly of cohorts in the hall.

Reyna, one of the camp's praetors, started the briefing. "Cohorts one and four will go against cohorts two, three, and five."

The people in your cohort — cohort four — groaned at the disadvantage they were given, making Reyna put her hand up to silence them. "We drew lots, so those who got the shorter stick have to utilize everyone they have to turn the odds towards them."

You cracked your knuckles, your fingers itching to get your hands dirty. Your trusty Imperial Gold spear was strapped onto your back, and you were impatiently waiting for the opportunity to bring it out.

Reyna went on with the usual warnings of no killing and maiming, which made you zone out. You felt eyes on the back of your head again, but you ignored them, knowing that it was Jason's doing. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact with him.

"Good luck, and let the games begin," Reyna concluded, making the people around you roar and bang their weapons together.

They all jogged out of the hall. The ten minutes of preparation had begun, and you along with James from the First Cohort led your big group into the building that was constructed the night before just for today's Capture the Flag.

"We're based here, while the other group is based in the forest," James said. "They outnumber us, but we have the higher ground."

"Three teams," you continued. "A group of three at most to get the flag, a big group to distract the other group on their home turf, and a small squad here to guard the flag."

"We're spreading ourselves pretty thin," James noted, sounding worried. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded. You mulled this over in your head while Reyna was briefing them all on safety precautions a few minutes ago, and you're confident that this is a good strategy. "We put Halley and Taino as part of the people left behind here. You and me will infiltrate with one other person. The rest... cause some mayhem."

"Alright, you heard her! Let's go win this!" James roared, charging out of the building with you by his side, your other teammates' footsteps thundering behind you, cheering as they ran. You all moved as one big group, all of you trained to move coordinately and orderly even in something as messy as war.

Let the game begin, you grinned.

—————

Capture the Flag ended in your team's victory, thanks to you and the probie coming in clutch and swiping the flag while running away from Hannibal the war elephant.

However, one of the children of Vulcan had left an experimental trap that you unknowingly fell into, leading to your only major injury during that game.

Twelve pins sticking into your leg was not how you envisioned this game to end, but hey, at least you won, right?

Paul the probie was the one who escorted you to the infirmary. It seemed he was feeling guilty about your patrol shift the night before and how you kept having to cover his ass and wanted to return the favor somehow.

"I'm fine," you repeated yourself once again to the Apollo kid who looked at your leg in concern. Too much concern in your opinion. "It's just a few pins."

"That were basically shot into your leg," The Apollo kid retorted, shaking their head and sighing. "Those Vulcan kids got some nerve to put an unstable trap in a game. You could have gotten worse injuries if those pins landed anywhere else. If worse came to worse, you wouldn't be able to use your leg again if they hit the wrong spot."

You shrugged. "But they didn't, so let's just be grateful and get them out of my leg, yeah?"

The Apollo kid started the process, with you occasionally groaning in pain as they pulled pin after pin out of your thigh. After the fourth pin, the infirmary doors slammed open, revealing a winded blonde, purple camp shirt slightly tattered after the Capture the Flag game around half an hour ago.

"I — I heard what happened," Jason said, his voice breathy with exhaustion, like he ran all the way there. “Are you okay?”

You observed him blankly before turning your head away slightly to cut the eye contact with him. The annoyance you had felt towards him didn’t quite cool down yet. “I'm fine. Not like there’s needles in my leg or — anything.”

The last word came out strained as the Apollo kid pulled out two needles at the same time. Your body jolted unexpectedly at the sudden pain.

“Grace, keep your girlfriend still, will you?” The Apollo kid retorted, not even bothering to look up from their work to address the son of Jupiter properly. “She’s twitchy.”

Jason took a few more steps towards you, but he hesitated. He knew you were still angry at him, but he wanted to help you. He wanted to do anything to relieve you of the pain you were in right now, no matter how many times you'd say that you were "fine" or that the pain was "bearable."

Jason looked at you, silently asking you for your consent. You sighed, looking away again, but the expression on your face was calmer than how it was before. The blonde boy took it as a sign to continue, gently placing his hands on your shoulders.

Now that there was someone restraining you, the child of Apollo showed no mercy. They started pulling pins out consistently, going as fast and as careful as possible so you don’t bleed out.

“Oh shit,” you winced, a hand instinctively going up to clutch Jason’s wrist tightly as you tried to bear with the pain while making as little noise as possible.

Jason did his job well, keeping his hands firm to prevent you from flinching too hard. His own face was slightly contorted, like he felt your pain too.

Well, maybe he did. Spiritually…?

The last of the damned needles was dropped into the metal container with a clang. “Alright, now I can bandage.”

Even though it was no longer necessary, Jason didn’t let go of you. His hold on you became more gentle, but his hands remained on your shoulders, as yours remained wrapped loosely around his wrist.

Despite your (now lesser) anger towards him, you appreciated his presence. Him just being there was enough for your heartbeat to steady, your breaths to even. That was the kind of effect only he had on you.

“Done,” The Apollo kid exhaled, snipping the bandage. They stood, stretching. “I’m gonna leave you two here, but Grace, don’t let her leave. I’m not discharging her until later.”

Without another word, they slipped away, leaving you alone with Jason.

Jason finally let go of you and slowly sank into the chair beside you, studying you with attentive and concerned eyes. You found yourself missing the warmth from his palms. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged. “Fine. The pain is bearable.”

Jason nodded. He fidgeted with his golden coin, sliding it along his fingers.

When he finally gathered the courage to say what he wanted to say, he looked up at you and held your gaze. “I want to apologize for my behavior earlier today. I don’t doubt your ability to protect yourself, but I just… worry about you.”

You exhaled, smiling slightly at him. The warmth reached your eyes. “I appreciate the concern, and don’t worry about it. I’m just petty sometimes that I hold grudges against the most worthless things.”

“But I love you anyway,” Jason chuckled, genuine love dilating his pupils and stretching his lips to a grin.

You laughed, looking at him softly. Your thigh was throbbing, your head felt funny from a small headache, but your heart soared because of the blonde boy you grew to care for more than you cared for anything and anyone else. “And I love you for loving me anyway.”

[washedoutwings]

welcome

// pt: welcome //

fronting (not always accurate): Dorian

time zone: eastern standard time/eastern daylight time

requests/offerings: closed

hyperfixations (in no particular order): random shit :0

special interests (in no order): etymology, entomology, ornithology, fall out boy (band), history, ceramics, painting, theater, fashion history, sewing, fiber arts

askbox: open

dms: open

venting dms: open

ask game(s): 1, 2, 3, 4

active poll(s): none

hey there!! please call me rook :) i use all pronouns (including neos), especially they/them and it/its. i am the host of our plural collective/system, and am normally at the front.

queer identity:

// pt: queer identity: //

im genderqueer and genderfluid! im also greyromantic, finromantic, asexual, and omniromantic

everyone in our collective is queer!! feel free to ask for specifics if you’d like

mental illnesses/disorders:

// pt: mental illnesses/disorders: //

we have autism, adhd, severe generalized anxiety disorder, moderate to severe depression, mild arfid, moderate chronic pain (unknown origin), insomnia, and some other weird brain stuff.

we are plural!! here are our headmate introductions

current headmate sideblogs:

@flesh-of-the-prophet

we also age regress and pet regress

religion/practice:

// religion/practice: //

i am a pagan witch. i work very closely with Loki. this will infrequently be brought up on this blog

alterhumanity:

// pt: alterhumanity: //

i am a therian, otherkin, and otherhearted. this is the main purpose of this blog, and will be discussed very frequently. check out my theriotypes and kintypes here! i do not currently participate in quads, or use gear. i do plan on making some of my own gear, but this may or may not happen.

we use the alterhuman terms to describe the experience of having animal/creature headmates

hobbies:

// pt: hobbies: //

i write a lot. this includes poetry, creative writing, and some nonfiction. i am an artist, and work in mediums including but not limited to digital art, watercolor, acrylic, ink, and ceramics. i also embroider and crochet. these hobbies will sometimes be discussed on this blog

byi:

// pt: byi: //

please be sure to read the previous mental illnesses/disorders section. be respectful of those :) tone tags are not required, but appreciated. we may have problems conveying tone, but we do not always use tone tags. if you’d like clarification, please let us know. we do not want to be involved in queer, alterhuman, or system/plural discourse. no dni, but we will block liberally and without explanation. we are very forgetful

trigger tagging:

// pt: trigger tagging: //

i have no triggers that i need tagged. this may change.

we will tag most common triggers

mutuals, please let me know if there are any other triggers that you would like tagged

tagging system:

// pt: tagging system: //

i will try to stay as consistent with this tagging system as possible, but there’s no guarantee

#offerings from rook = offerings from my divinekin offering requests

#@— offerings = offerings for a specific user. hyphens are replaced with username

#anon offerings = offerings for anonymous asks

#rook’s ramblings = my general thoughts. me talking

#who got washed out = who i am. my identity. personal development

#rerook = things i’ve reblogged

credits:

// pt: credits: //

dividers: @saradika-graphics, @enchanthings

userboxes: @boxes-for-systems, others are included in the userboxes :) THERES MORE BUT I CANT FIND THEM RN GIMME A MINUTE <33