#it can have someone convinced their partner is ashamed of them

[all-the-gays-are-d3ad]

i fear nothing will ever get me like the secret relationship trope gets me

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa NSFW Profile

Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem! reader

Tw: stalking, kidnapping, mentions of non-con and dub-con, public masturbation, voyeurism/non-consensual voyeurism, exhibitionism, spitting (m and f receiving), dick slapping, cumplay, possessiveness, mild gore, mentions of death, Stockholm Syndrome/reader is implied to start liking him, Sanemi is kind of a hot mess approaching sex so hopefully that has been conveyed, I hc hard that Sanemi is a virgin so don't bother fighting me on it, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 15K

HABITS:

Intimacy is very much not something that Sanemi is familiar with. He’s never even considered taking a partner, staunchly ignoring his fellow Hashira’s taunts (almost exclusively from Tengen and the odd, poorly-timed comment from Giyuu) about how he’d just ‘calm down’ a bit if he had a pretty woman to relieve his stress onto.

And while he’s mature enough to admit there’s probably some truth to that, he’s still rejecting the very few advances that come his way. He’s not only entirely uninterested in dealing with the intricacies and expectations of a relationship, but he’s also convinced that due to his traumatic past and the way he deals he interacts with those he loves, he’s unfit to be a partner.

He doesn’t think he has the capability to properly commit himself to someone, to become emotionally dependent on them – and frankly he doesn’t want them to become emotionally attached to him, either. It’s just too risky considering his job and his habits in battle – every night is a question of survival, missions leaving him so bloody and battered that it’s a miracle he pulls through, a miracle that Shinobu doesn’t just kill him herself with how often he winds up in her infirmary.

It’s just wildly unpractical – and it’s not like he chooses to become so horribly, deeply obsessed with you. He’s angry in the beginning, genuinely trying to hate you and distance himself from you in every possible way, but you’re like some irritating, persistent bug that manages to crawl back to him every time he thinks he’s shaken you off.

(A mindset that makes him feel incredibly guilty later on, ashamed of himself for having thought of you in such a derogatory, rude way. This is particularly true because now he’d be absolutely devastated if you were to leave his life, panic and terror engulfing him because no no no you’re not allowed to leave him.)

But once the feelings have been cemented and Sanemi finally, finally accepts that he can do nothing to change him, that outlook on intimacy being unavailable begins to change. Of course, he’s not immediately grabbing and groping at you, nor is he fantasizing about the way you’d look underneath him whimpering and writhing as he fucks into you.

(Wet dreams aside, of course. He doesn’t often wake up to messy, sticky sheets, but the shame that swallows him when he does is so palpable that even his fellow Hashira notice. Rengoku will ask in a much-too-loud voice if he’d slept well, if he’s okay, why there’s still a slight flush on his face, leaving Sanemi to only snap at him and storm out of whatever area they’re in.)

No, his fantasies are genuinely more innocent in the beginning – virginal, really, with the way he blushes a light pink at the thought of wrapping you in his arms, the simple idea of hugging you being enough to get him covering his mouth with his palm, too flustered to function. The mere concept of you pressing a kiss to his cheek – not even his fucking lips – gets him feeling hot under the collar, body too warm for him to sit still, needing to blow off the steam and refocus himself before he embarrasses himself in front of you.

It makes him feel weak, really, how these simplistic, easy forms of intimacy and affection are able to affect him in such a profound way, and as time passes it’s really only natural for his imagination to start turning lewder. It’s not something that he thinks of on his own necessarily, if only because there’s a large mental block there where he tries to separate the thought of you from anything he deems disrespectful or dirty.

He tells himself that you’re pretty, not sexy. (But oh god does he think you’re sexy, everything from your voice to your hair to your skin making him drool like some sort of perverted old man, blood rushing between his legs when he sees you bite your lip or flick your hair, having to quickly excuse himself for fear that you’ll see the way his pants are growing sinfully tight.)

You’re sweet, not naughty. (But oh, Sanemi wouldn’t mind if you were a bit bratty in bed, if you had a rebellious streak to you and made him work for it, made him put in every ounce of effort just to get you creaming on his fingers or tugging on his hair or letting him spill every last drop of cum he has to give you inside that tight little cunt of yours.)

It’s a strict boundary for him, but all it takes is a single seed to be planted that ultimately breaks his moral high ground. Perhaps it’s Rengoku noticing off-hand that Sanemi seems to be a bit quieter these days, the former laughing loudly and congratulating Sanemi on finding that beautiful woman Tengen was talking about – tell me, does she satisfy you in all the ways you require? It makes Sanemi sputter and cough slightly, shocked at both Rengoku’s observational accuracy and the insinuation of you pleasuring him.

(And also seething in jealousy because how the fuck does Rengoku know about you? Has he met you? Has he fucked you? Is that why he’s thinking about you in a sexual manner?)

He tries to stop it, but it’s too late – there’s a quick, shockingly explicit image of you on your back, knees folded up to your chin and Sanemi’s cock stretching you so widely that you’re crying, nails scraping down his back and moans of yes yes please more ‘Nemi please falling past your lips.

He’s ashamed of himself, training until he nearly blacks out from the exhaustion, Iguro shocked and mildly concerned at just how hard and raggedly he’s pushing himself.

(And, out of respect for the unspoken friendship between them, he ignores the way Sanemi’s been sporting a raging hard-on for the duration of their some three-hour sparring session, cock swollen and not settling down for even an instant. Frankly, he’s amazed Sanemi could fight as well as he did considering his situation.)

It’s shameful, Sanemi thinks, and it leaves him utterly mortified that he's letting his more primal thoughts win, but once the door opens he can’t quite shut it. He still tries – pushing idle thoughts of you on your knees for him out of his mind, cursing under his breath as he follows a few feet behind you, acting as your shadow and trying so, so very desperately to not notice the way your kimono is spread tightly across your ass. It’s commendable, really, just how long he manages to keep himself accountable, but it becomes more difficult the more time he spends watching you, seeing aspects of you that are really much more personal than he has a right to know.

And the final straw comes one sunny afternoon, when you’re walking with him down the rather crowded street of your town. He’s accompanying you because ‘it’s too crowded for you to be out alone’, as he’d told you, and he’s staying close to your side, careful not to touch you but always in your peripheral.

And really, maybe he’d had a point – because all it takes is a single shove from a woman next to you, and suddenly you’re falling forward, arms automatically reaching out to steady yourself but instead slamming into Sanemi’s chest, his noise of shock and the feeling of your thumbs touching his bare skin distracting him enough to leave the two of you tumbling the to the ground.

And of course you land on top of him – directly on top of him, with your kimono slightly askew and your clothed breasts pressed up against the expanse of his exposed chest, able to feel the fullness and softness of them. Your breath’s fanning against his neck as you blink and mutter a quick apology, your ascent ungraceful as you accidentally grind your thigh against his crotch, a small, nearly mute groan falling from his lips at the action.

He’s dazed, cheeks flushing a warm pink color and his eyes wide as they stare at you, even as you stand up and try to help him up. But he just can’t move – the feeling of your skin and body against his is too fresh in his mind, imprinted and replaying over and over as he closes his eyes.

And even the feeling of your hands grasping onto his as you try to lift him to his feet is sending him dangerously close to the edge, already feeling himself growing hard and his breathing getting labored.

He doesn’t say a word of it to you, only grunting at your frenzied apologies, not trusting his voice because he’s sure if he tried all he’d manage to push out would be a weak moan of your name. He takes you back to your home immediately, dropping you off in an uncharacteristically abrupt manner, only stopping to make sure you make it past your front door before he’s practically sprinting off, only able to heave in the deep breaths once he’s a good mile or so away from your home.

It’s only then that he finally lets go of the desperate, difficult breathing techniques he had to employ to keep a check on his cock, stopping himself from getting fully hard and only making the smallest of tents in his pants so as to not catch your attention. But as he heaves, wild eyes staring up at the sky, he’s clutching onto the fabric of his haori, knees slightly weak as he stumbles into the surrounding forest.

He’s in an empty area, and as he ventures deeper into the trees and shrubbery, he finds himself leaning against a nearby trunk. Fuck fuck fuck, all he can think about is the way your body was so warm and how you fit perfectly against him, as if your body was molded to fit his. It’s driving him crazy – everything feels too hot, sweat beading at his temple and his palms clammy. He tries to regain his breathing but it’s still coming out ragged, winded and sloppy, his cock so hard that it hurts, mind swirling with thoughts of you and only you.

And even after ten minutes of trying to calm down, Sanemi eventually curses, eyes squeezed shut and palm slapping the trunk of the tree as he realizes that the only way to get his body under his control again is to deal with the problem. It’s embarrassing, more than anything, and he quickly glances around the thickly forested alcove he’s found himself in, the daylight trickling in through the gaps in the trees and illuminating his chest.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Sanemi undoes his belt, the metal sounding loud in the quiet of the forest but slightly muffled by his breathing. It makes him bite his lip, flushing an ever deeper red color, but he shimmies his uniform pants down slightly, just enough to rest under the curve of his balls, staring with pinched brows at the way his cock is absolutely red – it’s swollen, almost visibly pulsing, so heavy that it only stands at a measly ninety degrees.

After a moment of contemplation Sanemi almost, almost tucks himself back into his pants, the guilt at masturbating to you nearly overwhelming, but then he’s hearing your voice in his head, ringing through and saying Sanemi thank you for catching my fall, Sanemi Sanemi Sanemi…

He’s spitting into his palm before he can stop himself, fingers wrapping deftly around his base and immediately flicking up and down, a mixture of a groan and a sigh of relief slipping from him as he finally, finally gets stimulation. His eyes close and he rests his arm against the tree over his head, leaning his forehead against his forearm.

He’s immediately imagining you – the feeling of your chest pressing against his, and images of times he’s accidentally seen you nude while peeking in through your windows crossing his mind. (And truly, they had been accidental – he’d looked away as soon as he regained his senses, blushing bright and running a hand through his hair, waiting for a good twenty minutes to ensure you were properly clothed before he chanced another glance.)

They’re so fucking perfect – he’s never felt a pair of breasts in his life but he’s sure yours are unbearably soft, that they’d be dense and squishy and perfect to squeeze and paw at. He’s biting his lip as he remembers the way your nipples look, licking his lips and even puckering them slightly as he imagines sucking at them, wondering with a particularly harsh tug of his cock whether you’d keen and sigh and moan.

His fist gets tighter as he thinks of the way your knee had brushed against him, balls clenching a bit at the idea that you’ve touched his cock, even accidentally and through multiple layers of clothing. He can’t help but imagine your hands wrapped around himself, fingers daintier and prettier than his own calloused, scarred ones, and his eyes peel open to watch them run up and down his length, looking crude and barbaric as he fucks into his fist harder, his hips starting to move in tandem with his wrist.

You’d look cute, he decides, when you jerk him off – you’d be such a juxtaposition, with feminine hands and soft skin against his masculine, thick cock, and the thought alone makes him grit his teeth, embarrassment and pleasure creeping up his spine because fuuuck he’s never felt this close so quickly before.

His mind snaps back to right before the fall, and suddenly he’s gasping your name and opening his eyes wide as the phantom touch of your fingers against his bare chest hits him, hips stuttering and sounds that are much too high-pitched for his liking filling the small forest area.

He’s turning around, back slamming against the trunk as he continues his brutal pace, keeping his fist stationary as his hips thrust and pound away, imagining it’s your pretty cunt instead. His free hand comes up to his face, the feeling of you grabbing at it and clutching your fingers against his driving him to press his palm tightly against his nose, deeply inhaling and sliding down the trunk a bit as he catches what he thinks is a very, very faint whiff of you on his skin.

His head tilts back, his thrusts getting sharper and more carnal, unconsciously angling them to brush against the top of his hand, where he knows you like best. He’s inhaling over and over again, smelling his hand like some dog, only pulling away to briefly lap at his palm, tongue lolling out and licking long, fat stripes across the skin, desperate to taste you, too.

He’s breathing hard, panting and chanting your name like some sort of prayer, the pleasure in his navel starting to build and grow. You’re just so fucking perfect, and he just knows you feel soft and warm and god he can’t fucking wait to touch you and feel you and pleasure you and make you moan his name and come for him and oh god oh fuck it’s coming it’s coming –

He nearly yells your name as cum oozes from his swollen tip, biting back the gaspy, airy groans that threaten to spill from his lips as his hips wildly jerk, uneven thrusts complimented by his abs clenching so tightly that his knees go weak, crouching against the base of the tree trunk.

He’s panting still, chest heaving as if he’d just run for hours, his face still flushed as he looks up, trying desperately to regain his senses. He’s still clouded by the smell and taste of you, and he only moves his hand to come clutch at his uniform, grabbing the same spot you’d grabbed earlier, squeezing at the fabric so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

There’s a trail of cum on the forest floor in front of him, white slowly cooling and smearing against the leaves, but Sanemi can’t find it in himself to care. There’s guilt settling deep in his chest as he comes down from his high, cock going pathetically limp against the waistband of his pants. He curses, closing his eyes and covering them with his hand, shame weighing heavily on him.

He’d just masturbated to you and reached the fastest orgasm of his life because of it.

It feels like some sort of selfish defeat, and he’s filled with self-loathing as he makes his way back to the Wind Estate for a change of clothes, berating himself for his weakness and promising to never give into his hormones like that again.

And yet, a mere five days later, he’s got his fist wrapped around himself again, fantasies of you bouncing in his lap like he’s just some toy for you to use racing through his mind, his composure slipping because he’d give absolutely anything to be of use to you, even just as something to get you off and discard afterwards.

It makes him feel pathetic, like a perverted, sorry excuse of an admirer of yours, but he just can’t help himself – how can he, when his every waking thought revolves solely around you?

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your Ass

In general, Sanemi loves the parts of you most that are the softest and the squishiest. He’s all hard lines – plains of muscle that’s rock hard to the touch, scars that are ragged and bumpy against the smoother texture of his skin. He’s all hard edges, but you’re the complete opposite – you’re sweet and soft, and Sanemi naturally gravitates towards areas that really showcase this.

Consequently, he finds his hands edging close to your ass from pretty much the beginning of your sexual relationship. He likes how plump the area is – he adores when you wear shorter skirts around him, or, ideally, just the pretty, lacy panties he buys for you with heat on his cheeks and embarrassment creeping up his spine.

(Of course, he’d bought many of them long before he’d stolen you away, long before he’d ever touched you in any serious capacity. He’d seen them when he was passing through an adult shop on a mission, and while he’d felt like a massive pervert for it, he’d purchased a pair that’s a particularly eye-catching emerald green, white lace trim at the edges and a matching garter belt and bra to go with it. He’d been mortified when he’d returned home and stared at the fabric, the fatigue and adrenaline having finally worn off, but the mere idea of you wearing the pretty fabric was enough to get him breathing heavy. It was enough to get him covering his mouth with his hand, cock painfully hard because even his imagination of how your pretty ass cupped by the cheeky underwear would look is enough to get precum staining his pants.)

When he’s kissing you, his hands are resting on your ass, groping and idly squeezing, playing with the fat and very, very gently slapping at it, kissing you even harder when he feels the way you squirm and yelp.

He prefers positions where you can make eye contact, but the somewhat rare times he has you bent over, Sanemi is absolutely feral – he’s smacking your ass and pounding into you as hard as he can, his grip on your hips tight enough to bruise as he loses himself in the way your ass ricochets against his pelvis, the wet slap slap noise forcing him to get on one knee, mounting you even more, fucking you like an animal.

(And while he’s not the absolute loudest during sex, you’ll hear some of the filthiest, foulest things fall past his lips when he’s fucking you from behind – he'll have you in prone bone, breath hot against your ear as he tells you that ‘s fucking tight, you’re so damn tight, fuck fuck fuuuuck, his voice groaned and strained as his hips punctuate each curse. And his grip on you is tight – fingertips digging into the plush of your hips and lovehandles, gripping hard enough to leave small imprints behind, feeling like he’s clutching onto you, like he’s scared you’ll disappear.)

He’s not picky about your shape, either – you could have perfectly round, full cheeks or very little definition and he’d still be in love, his fingers still twitching and flexing at his side with the urge to reach out and squeeze, to knead at the skin and hear the way you’d yelp and cling onto him.

(Perhaps you’d even smack his hand away, embarrassment creeping up your spine and your flustered expression making him lick his lips, hellbent on making you come so many times the only thing you can think of is him him him. He always has grand plans to tease you, wanting to have you looking at him with glossy eyes and be completely under his thumb, but every time he gets you naked in front of him it’s him who’s at your beck and call, pathetically eager to do whatever you wish.)

He won’t try to touch you until you have a more established sexual relationship in place, which will take several months of being trapped with him to achieve. But once the floodgates are opened he becomes extremely touchy – he’s always got his hands on you, squeezing and groping and touching, and you’ll often even find that when you’re laying on your front, he’ll come lay behind you, shyly at first as he places his cheek against the soft skin, a hand gripping onto your thigh as he relaxes, too embarrassed to make eye contact but basking in the softness of you, in the peace of the moment, in the way you’re really here, with him.

He loves the rest of your body too, of course, but his natural resting place for both his hands and eyes is your ass, and he’s not nearly as subtle as he hopes he is.

(Not at all, but there’s almost something endearing about it – the quick-tempered, serious Hashira so blatantly ogling you, his lips parting and his nostrils flaring as he stares, almost unblinking. It makes you feel good, truly, flattered despite the perverted nature of his staring. And so as time passes you’ll find that you can excuse it, his bashfulness and obvious attraction to you almost flattering the longer you go without other human contact.)

His Abs

By and large, Sanemi desperately wants to impress you.

He lives for your praise, finding that the sweet words slipping from your lips are enough to leave him feeling like he’s floating, a sort of genuine joy he hasn’t felt in years settling into his chest, making him fight off a smile. As such, he’s very, very attentive to your reactions to his body.

Years of pushing himself to become stronger and battling so often have left his body riddled with muscles and scars, leaving him in peak physical health. And you’ll know this from nearly the first moment you meet him – after all, it’s difficult to not notice the little peek-a-boo at his abs in his uniform, the skin defined and often glistening with sweat.

He’s proud of his chest, and he has to swallow very, very hard the first time he catches you glancing at the exposed skin. It makes his ego inflate, something pleasant licking at his chest because oh, were you just checking him out? It doesn’t matter if you were or not – because to Sanemi you were, and that fact doesn’t leave his mind for weeks.

He’s proud of his abs, and quickly grows to love showing them off to you. He elects to keep a shirt on for most of your early time trapped with him, not wanting to scare you or frighten you by being half-undressed. (He doesn’t want you be to feeling pressured into anything, because while he would never force you into anything even remotely sexual, he doesn’t want there to be any sort of dubious fear or doubt motivating you to finally seek out intimacy with him. Aside from your kidnapping and the stalking, of course. And the way his desperation for you is so thick it leaves you squirming in discomfort.)

But once your sexual relationship starts?

Oh – he’s constantly shirtless, purposefully flexing when you’re nearby so that his abs stand out more defined, pectorals looking firmer, the muscles of his back standing out and practically begging for you to run your finger over them. He loves when you trace the lines of his six-pack, your soft finger dipping between the muscles and sending shivers along his skin because fuck, even just your finger is getting him hot under the collar.

Press kisses against the area, murmuring to him that he’s so strong and that you feel so safe with you ‘Nemi, I know you could protect me from anything. He’ll grumble under his breath but the blush sporting his cheeks and neck give him away, as does the way his hips involuntarily and imperceptibly buck.

Kiss further down to the happy trail of silvery hair leading below the waistband of his pants, the skin ticklish and sensitive enough to leave him sucking in a breath, his fists tightening until his knuckles are white because oh, you’re such a damn tease. When you’re perched on top of him, rolling your hips and letting him cup at your ass to help guide you, rest a hand against his abs and he’ll groan, the muscles clenching underneath your palm.

(Often, when he’s getting too close to his orgasm and he doesn’t want the moment to end quite yet, he’ll pull you forward so that you’re straddling his stomach, looking up at you with dazed lilac eyes, telling you in a hoarse, heady voice to grind on me, use me, ‘m all yours. He wants you to touch his abs, to feel your cunt scooping and rubbing against the planes of muscle. He wants to watch the way your face contorts as you catch your clit on a particularly raised section, maybe even on a scar, his orgasm slowly – very slowly – fading off but his cock still remaining starkly at attention. You’re just so damn pretty when you’re smearing slick against his skin, the sight wanton and lewd but feeling so very right. And later that night, when he’s helping you to the bath and diligently washing your body, he’ll scowl before he washes off his own abs, slightly pissed that he has to wash away the trace of you.)

He just likes you to touch what he’s so proud of, and each and every time you have a remotely positive reaction towards them, Sanemi is in heaven. After all, you’re looking at him, and that’s something that makes both his cock and his heart swell.

DRIVE:

Sanemi is, for a lack of a better term, sexually frustrated. He’s never touched anyone before and never been touched himself, and even touching himself is something he rarely partakes in. Every ounce of irritation, anger, anxiety, and stress is taken out via rigorous training and often yelling. When he feels pent-up he finds that a good, quick spar is often a more effective way to quell it rather than jerking off.

Not to mention, there’s something about masturbating that makes Sanemi feel even more lonely and frustrated than before – it hurts slightly to know that he doesn’t have anyone to be thinking of, that while he saves men and women with partners and lovers, he’s not quite like them. Hell, even a few of his fellow Hashira have partners, someone to touch them and hold them, reassuring them and comforting them when the nightmares of screaming family members and demons become too much. It makes him feel pathetic when he feels sorry for himself for being so painfully alone, and this results in Sanemi avoiding pleasuring himself as often as possible.

But of course, biology has other plans for him – he’s in the sexual prime of his life, and when he can’t quite seem to work off the steam with a thorough work-out or eventful patrol, he’ll begrudgingly resort to his hand. It’s typically impersonal, wrapping his fingers around himself and steadily jerking up and down while he closes his eyes and bites back his groans.

He’s not thinking of anything in particular – maybe imagining it’s the hand of some mystery woman replacing his own, but nothing more than that. It’s fast, too, the pleasure slowly mounting and then crashing through him, gritting his teeth as he finishes and promptly cleaning up, wanting to waste no more time with it. It’s all just so very clinical, almost – even when he’s horny, even when the frustration mounts so high that it’s unbearable.

And while he’s slow to warm up to fantasizing about you in a sexual capacity, Sanemi’s irregular indulgences in lust remain. Of course, it’s much, much better now – now that he has someone to actively close his eyes and think about, imagining your voice and your body and your touch. It’s infinitely better because while you’re still not by his side or touching him with your own hands and lips and cunt, he can still fantasize that one day you will, that one day you’ll want him like he wants you.

And it’s enough – his sex drive is still fairly low, and even once he begins actively having sex with you it remains on the lower side. He’d just truly rather hold you or listen to you speak than pin you down and fuck you.

(Or have you pin him down and ride him until he’s shooting blanks and tearing up with red cheeks and fisting the sheets so hard his knuckles are white.)

But of course, he’s only a man and those urges do hit him – enough so that he has a sort of system in place for signaling that he’s feeling hot, that he’s restless, that he’s mentally undressing you and planning out all the positions and ways he can get you creaming on his cock. His signals aren’t particularly graceful, either – it starts with him sitting closer to you, his body completely tense and every muscle clenched.

(He does this unconsciously, both as a way to control himself from just reaching out and snatching you, and also to subconsciously make himself seem bigger, to look stronger and more masculine, to appeal to your more feminine side. He’s not even aware he does it, and if you point it out he’ll vehemently deny it, calling you deluded and making some comment about how you’re projecting your own lewdness onto him, but he knows you’re right, and he also knows he can’t stop it.)

Then he’ll start looking at you with more focus. He’s always staring at you, those wide eyes never leaving your form, but now he’s doing things – again, unconsciously – without realizing that give it all away; licking his lips, adjusting his pants, swallowing audibly.

It’s all things that you’ll notice, and depending on how far along you are in your captivity with him, your response to these signals dictates whether or not you end up with cum smearing the inside of your thighs – if you grimace and shy away from him, Sanemi will clench his jaw, nod slightly and look away. He’ll immediately get up and leave the room both from embarrassment and hurt at your rejection, and to avoid making you feel any sort of pressure or guilt to give him physical intimacy.

But if you scoot in closer, clench your thighs a bit, give him that sultry fucking look you know he loves, then he’s immediately kissing you, big hand cupping your cheek as the other latches onto your breast, kneading and squeezing as he groans against your lips.

And it’s messy – the kiss is all tongue and spit, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he presses his body into you as far as he can, desperation and relief flowing through him because the feeling of your skin against his is satisfying parts of him he didn’t even know existed. If you accept his advances, he’ll maneuver you onto your back, nudging between your thighs and immediately licking and sucking away, the loud suction noises making your cheeks feel hot and making it difficult to not squirm around.

(Something that strokes Sanemi’s ego but also frustrates him because he wants you to lie still so he can properly touch you. He can’t go at the pace and angle you like when you’re wiggling around, so he’ll just take a thigh in each hand and keep you steady, using his strength to pin you down so that you can’t move away from his eager, sloppy mouth. Because he wants absolutely everything to be perfect – he wants you to feel so good that you’re begging for him, associating him with pleasure, knowing that he can and will give you exactly what your body needs.)

He’ll make you finish on his tongue and only then will he start working his pants down, cock already so red and wet with precum that it’s a miracle a single brush against your cunt doesn’t make him immediately release. The sex is eager – that’s really the only word for it, because Sanemi’s grabbing every part of your body he can reach, hands unable to stay still because he wants to feel everything, mapping every inch of your body with his fingers so that if somehow you disappear, he’ll remember everything. He’s handsy, and yet his hips are absolutely brutal – he’s fucking into you like a wild animal, hipbones smacking against your ass in a bruising rhythm that leaves your whole body bouncing, every soft, jiggly bit of you drawing his attention and only making him go harder because he wants to see more more more.

But he’s loud, too – all kinds of curses and rough, uneven praises of the way you feel and how you look are falling past his lips, voice sounding nearly pained with the overwhelming amount of stimulation you’re giving him.

He’s truly pussydrunk in every sense of the word – so when he very unnaturally and awkwardly tries to put his hand on your thigh when he’s signaling he’s feeling hot and needy for you, just know that you’ll have a lot of difficulty walking the next morning.

That said, Sanemi will absolutely never force you into anything sexual without your explicit (and frequent) verbal consent.

Despite his rough-around-the-edges appearance, he’s staunch on his moral beliefs that sex is something intimate that should be reserved for partners who truly care about each other. He believes that it should be something enjoyed, something meaningful, something wanted – and so, to have you actively fighting him or not engaging in what he’s doing to you would leave his skin crawling, disgust and a new, different kind of shame seeping through him.

(Different if only because up until that point, everything he’s done he’s been able to spin as somehow being for your safety – stalking you to make sure no one bothers you, learning all your habits and favorite foods, clothes, and hobbies letting him notice any deviations signifying something is wrong. Hell, even kidnapping you has some benefits for your safety – no demon is stupid enough to enter the Wind Estate, and he’ll be damned before he lets any strangers in with the possibility of coming into contact with you.)

But intimacy is different – he’s not good at being vulnerable, and to be naked with you, to hold you in his arms and feel your hands caress the parts of his body that are deeply scarred and unused to touch is a new level of unguarded that makes him anxious. He’s so used to keeping up a pseudo-façade of being reckless and wild and in these moments all he wants is to let you see him raw, the real Sanemi Shinazugawa that wants you so badly that it physically hurts.

And so, if you don’t want him he’ll respect that – it hurts, of course, and he’ll have trouble facing you for the next few days, but he's man enough to know that your consent is key. But it’s also this crippling fear of rejection and putting himself in a position of possible weakness with you that bars him from trying to progress your sexual relationship for a long, long time.

He’s desiring you in risqué and lewd ways long before he’s stolen you away, but it’s difficult to act on those, to put himself out there and risk your harsh, painful rejection of him.

(And he’s convinced you will reject him, if only because despite his persona, Sanemi harbors insecurities about his ability to be loved. He thinks there’s something deeply wrong with him, something that makes others fearful of him and something that will deter anyone from getting too close. Besides Genya, of course, but the matter is complicated.)

And so, he holds himself back from making any sort of move in your sexual relationship – he wants to either have you bring it up, or to keep everything between you as strictly protector-protectee as possible, even if he craves to touch you and lay with you.

But, like most things in your relationship, Sanemi’s restraint snaps one day. To be fair, it’s not entirely Sanemi’s fault – months of repressing his sex drive and ignoring the tantalizing way you look in the kimonos he hand-picked for you leaves him on the brink of exploding, so pent-up and sexually frustrated that it nearly drives him mad.

The final straw is a particularly brutal, gut-wrenching mission – he’d been tasked to stop a demon in a few towns over, a simple mission that he really, really should’ve been able to fix much quicker. But the demon was smart and seemed to sense his approach, and the carnage was far, far greater than Sanemi was expecting. Small children stained red with parents dismembered a few feet away, visible bite chunks leaving the smell of rot and death heavy in the air. It left his stomach churning, but what truly sent him off the end was hearing a small sob after he’d sliced the demon’s neck, the little boy crying next to what Sanemi could only assume was his dead mother.

That in itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the boy’s striking, uncanny resemblance to his own brother Koto makes him stop in his tracks, lips falling open like a gaping fish. He’s frozen, simply staring like some fool, but then everything happens much, much too fast.

The demon’s suddenly swooping in, the boy’s head severed in the blink of an eye, a deranged cackle falling from the creature as a resounding crunchnoise fills the air. Sanemi’s thrown into a state of rage, immediately killing the demon and stabbing at it repeatedly. He’s cutting up each and every part of the monster (careful to avoid touching the boy’s head, though), yelling and cursing at it for what feels like hours.

By the time he’s done there’s tears pricking his eyes, and the walk back to his Estate is blurry and heavy with his own grief. He hasn’t cried in years, but something about the little boy’s face and the weight pressing on his back leave him with wet cheeks, the shoji door quietly sliding open to your room before he can catch himself.

You’re still awake, and he doesn’t even have the right mental state to be angry at you for cutting your sleep. He’s quiet, simply staring at you from the doorway as you wearily approach him, concerned and slightly scared because there’s blood smeared across his uniform and his eyes are bloodshot.

Sanemi? Your voice is weak, and you gently, hesitantly press a hand against his trembling fingers grasping onto the scabbard of his sword.

He swallows harshly, eyes locked onto yours. He whispers your name, voice low and hoarse, but before you can say anything he’s wrapping his arms around you, clutching onto your so tightly that your breathing is restricted. It leaves you yelping, unsure how to respond to the uncharacteristic affection, but the shallow shaking of his shoulders makes you soothingly run a hand through his hair.

Sanemi… You trail off again, but he only hugs you tighter in response. It’s some ten minutes before he finally sniffles, mumbling something against your clothed shoulder that you can’t quite hear.

When you don’t respond, he grips you tighter, pulling his face back just a hair to say again please, I need you to touch me.

It makes you stiffen in his grasp, and that makes him panic. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, I just – he stops, swallowing again and letting his weight sag against you even more. I just can’t be alone right now.

And maybe it’s the vulnerability in his tone, the strange, gentle side of him you so rarely see, or maybe it’s your own longing for human contact and touch that drives you to press a kiss against the crown of his head.

He gasps sharply, his grip loosening ever so slightly. You take the opportunity to gently pull back, grabbing his wrist and leading him over to your bed in the center of the room. He’s staring at you with wide, puffy eyes, shellshocked and unable to say anything as you grasp at the edge of his uniform.

Your voice is still soft as you tell him take this off, no blood on my bed, and he’s only staring for a single, long moment before the fabric is flying over his head, his pants quickly falling suite and leaving him bare aside from a pair of thin undergarments sitting dangerously low on the sharp v-line of his navel. He’s still looking at you, eyes wild and wide, his chest rising and falling so quickly that it almost worries you.

You’re much slower when you peel away your own sleeping clothes, leaving your body in only a thin, light-weight slip that makes Sanemi lick his lips. You’re so fucking pretty – it’s making something in his chest ache, his palms flexing by his sides, brain warring between the extreme emotional distress and arousal at seeing your partially exposed body and your desire for him.

You step forward, palm pressing against his cheek, and slowly pull him to you. Letting your lips ghost against his for a moment, you press a soft, barely-there kiss against the corner of his mouth. Murmuring his name, you feel the way his whole body shivers.

Finally, finally, you press your lips against his, moving slow and trying to let him relax into it. He’s still so tense – he wants this badly, but now that it’s actually happening he’s freezing up a bit. He’s dreamed and fantasized about this moment for months, lying awake and feeling pathetic for imagining that you could want him like this.

But the moment passes and he’s suddenly kissing you back, his movements sloppy and uncooridinated, evidence that he’s never done this before. But you take it in stride and pull back, the sound making his nostrils flare. He moves forward, chasing your lips, but you stop him with a lay down with me, please Sanemi.

And it’s as if he’s some well-trained pet – he’s immediately laying down, body tense and taut over your blankets, and he watches with baited breath as you straddle him, your thighs warm against his skin and oh god oh god –

He can feel it – can feel you.

You’re incredibly warm, the heat permeating through his underclothes as you press against his cock, the sensation forcing something that sounds much too similar to a moan to slip from his lips. It feels surreal – and when you start slowly moving your hips, grinding on him in teasingly slow, agonizingly pleasurable little circles, Sanemi’s gripping at your thighs, his self-restraint nearly buckling.

The evening passes full of slow, tender touches, exploring fingers and tongues covering every inch of your skin and his. The sex is soft, thrusts gentle and deep, rolling and pressing against every spot that makes your toes curl. He’s kissing you the whole time, grasping onto your skin like you’re his life line, a near-growl coming from somewhere deep in his throat when you take even a hand away from holding him. He wants your fingers tunneling through his hair, your leg wrapped around his waist, your nipples brushing against his own.

It's heaven, he thinks, and though he tries to hide his face as he ruts into you, the tears return to his eyes and before he knows it he’s chanting a slurred, choked mantra of your name, timing with his thrusts and begging you in a near-incomprehensible plea of never leave me, you can’t leave me, I won’t let you leave me.

It’s only after his hips stutter, a gasp of your name and his hot breath going ragged in your ear that he finally goes limp. He’s still inside you, the last throbs and bits of his orgasm rocking through him, but he’s carefully maneuvering your bodies so that he’s laying behind you. You’re caged in his arms – a heavy, muscular limb wrapped around your waist, body molded to yours and pulling you flush against him. He falls asleep like that – flaccidly inside you, his breath in your ear, his grip on you remaining deadly tight even as dreams overtake him. And eventually, you fall asleep too – exhausted, confused, and embracing this small, intimate moment even if you’ll regret it.

He’s gone the next morning, the covers wrapped up to your chin, the blankets and sheets on his side perfectly pristine.

He doesn’t mention that night for the foreseeable future, embarrassed and angry at himself for giving into temptation and allowing himself to be so weak in front of you. He’s worried that you might regret it, that you’ll find him disgusting for being so wanton and blatant in his begging for you, and he bars himself from engaging with you sexually again. (Out of embarrassment, out of shame, out of fear because god, he’s never been as desperate and depraved as he was the moment he slipped inside of you, and how would he react the second time? The third? The tenth?)

He won’t acknowledge that it happened, but you’ll notice the glances he starts throwing your way, the way his gaze lingers on your body, how he stiffens up the moment you get even remotely close to him. It’s a stark contrast to the man who’d been groaning out your name like salvation the night before, but just know that if you were to approach him, Sanemi will be putty in your hands.

If you were to kiss him or touch him or tell him how badly you need him, he’ll fold. He’ll get onto his knees, mouthing at your cunt and struggling to mutter out how he’d thought you’d never ask, fuck.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Cumplay

While Sanemi will bend to your whims almost always in bed, there are a few very, very specific things that he won’t compromise on.

That is, he absolutely must finish either inside you, down your throat, or on your body. It’s a possessiveness thing for him – he’s in ecstasy and still slightly shocked that you’re touching him (and letting him touch you), but it’s still not quite enough. He’s licking and sucking at your neck, leaving marks and hickies and the imprint of his fingertips lightly against your skin, trying to mark you up as his his his. He wants to leave a physical imprint of his possession over you, because while it feels dehumanizing to think of you as his, he can’t help the way it makes something in his chest twist in just the right way, nor can he help the way his cock stands up at attention, growing hard just at the mere idea of physically making you his.

And Sanemi quickly finds the quickest, easiest way to claim you as his is to leave you absolutely dripping with his cum. He’s territorial, completely believing that you’re his woman and he is your man. It’s this possessiveness mixed with his obsession over being your protector that drive his compulsive need to fill you with every last drop he can give you – it feels better this way, more natural. It’s like he’s giving you what you desire – he’s giving you everything he can, the most intimate, sacred part of him, something he made for you and you alone.

And so, every time he’s got hic cock out and your kissing, sucking, touching, or fucking it, Sanemi’s throwing his head back and groaning, all sorts of filthy, dirty promises about how he’s going to finish for you falling past his lips.

He’ll have you on your knees, his thighs tense and his abs clenching, his hand in your hair and fighting very, very hard to not pull you down until his cock’s in the back of your throat, choking and gagging you. (He wants to – god does he want to, but he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’ll stop himself. A mind-numbing orgasm with your hot little tongue pressed against his underside isn’t worth you being angry or hurt.) He's groaning your name and telling you that that you’re gonna – fuck, gonna take it all, yeah? Gonna swallow every last fucking drop, o-oh fucky baby, god wanna see you swallow ngh –

Your hand is wrapped around his girth, wrist flicking up and down so quickly that it makes him pant, your free hand delicately groping and squeezing at his balls. He’s bucking up against your tugs, a red flush on the bridge of his nose as he grunts, rushing forward to kiss you with way too much tongue, pulling back only when he starts shuddering, breath ragged as he tells you that he wants to finish on your chest, voice getting slurred and strained as he tells you he’s gonna come on your tits, god so fucking pretty fuck fuck fuck –

(He’ll stare with this sort of boyish look in his eye and something feral, predatory at his handiwork once he does, white smeared across your skin and leaving a film that he rubs at with his thumb, pinching your nipple and licking his lips when you squirm.)

He’s got you pressed into a tight, suffocating mating press, his forehead pressed against yours and his hands holding your knees up, the angle and feeling of you making teeter on the edge. ‘M gonna, ‘m gonna come soon, where do you want it? He’ll ask, eyes fluttering shut as you clench down on him, only to open wide when you whine out to finish inside ‘Nemi, please please please want your cum!

And it’s lewd and dirty and it gets him fucking into you deeper, hips snapping into yours so hard that you’re physically moving up the length of the bed, his voice a growl as he grins, groaning yeah? Want me to come in this tight – fuck, tight little pussy? So damn greedy, fuuuuck, you better take it, don’t let any drip out or I’ll have to fill you again. He’ll press kisses against your lips, jaw, and neck, his voice growing louder as he growl again between each kiss.

And when he’s right on the edge, his thrusts growing uneven and choppy, his eyes are meeting yours again as he gasps take it take it take it, cum spurting from his tip and leaving you feeling warm and so very, very full. He produces a lot with each orgasm, seeming to never stop as it oozes from his hyper-sensitive tip, and Sanemi uses it to his advantage.

He’s obsessed with looking at the product of his orgasm – he’ll kneel between your legs so that your cunt’s eyelevel and simply stare as his cum slowly leaks out, down the grooves of your folds and over your pert hole, dripping onto the floor below you and making him scoff. He’ll scoop it up with a single finger, pushing it back inside of you and kissing you to muffle the sound of your surprise, slightly embarrassed because he absolutely can’t let even the smallest amount not end up inside you.

When you’ve convinced him to be a tad bit rougher as you bob your head between his legs, Sanemi will grant your wish and finish on your face, groaning and biting his lip at the way you look, his cum dribbling down from your lips to your chin, dripping down to land on your nipples, thighs, other parts of your body.

 (And as disrespectful as it felt to finish there, Sanemi secretly loves it – he won’t request it because he doesn’t think you’d enjoy it, but he’s nursing a fantasy that you’ll let him smear his cum all over your lips and cheeks, and then simply not clean it for the rest of the day. He wants the physical evidence of his intimacy with you to be constantly visible, so that every glance reminders him that you wanted him, that you were practically begging him for his cock like some common whore. You aren’t, or course, but the possessive, animalistic part of him that desires rough, carnal sex with you is satisfied by the idea, something primal about the idea of leaving a mark of him him him against your pretty face. He’ll never bring it up, simply stewing on it in silence, but if you were to mention the idea, or tell him that you want to keep his cum really anywhere against your skin, you’ll witness something that absolutely mortifies him – a dry orgasm paired with a sad, shocked little whimper, the embarrassment and unexpected pleasure making him too ashamed to even look at you for a few hours afterwards.)

He just really likes the concept of leaving you stuffed full of him. (And there’s a small part of him that hopes desperately with every load he gives you that it’ll finally take. He’s always fantasized about having a family with you, but with each time he stuffs you full, he can only get closer and closer to the dream, the mere idea of you pregnant enough to get him hot under the collar and desperate to get his hands on you.)

And to his credit, this kink goes both ways – he’ll gladly let you cover every inch of his skin in your spit and slick, rubbing yourself against his body and licking at him until you’ve had your fill.

(And fuck, if you squirt? He’s wearing it like a badge of honor, pride and arousal coursing through him in such potent amounts that he’s nearly dizzy, nearly unable to function because god he needs to fuck you and make you do that over and over again until you can’t anymore.)

He’s just possessive, and while you might initially be rather disgusted simply by his eagerness and fixation on it, eventually you might even find it hot, too. Because really, he may be deranged, a stalker, horribly and uncomfortably dependent on you for his emotional stability and health, but isn’t there something so very sexy about a grown man moaning in your ear and begging you to please let him finish inside you?

Voyeurism

Perhaps it’s a remnant of having stalked you for so long, but there’s something that gets Sanemi so fucking hard about watching you pleasure yourself.

There’s layers to it – of course he loves the physical sight of you with your fingers stuffed into your cunt, tits spilling out of your lounging shirt, thighs quivering and your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ shape that Sanemi wants to fill with his fingers. He loves the way you look all fucked out, pretty and writhing and gasping, letting all your natural sounds out because there’s not a soul around to hear you and you can be truly free. So yes, from a purely carnal, sexual standpoint, Sanemi very much enjoys the sight of you touching yourself.

But even beyond that, there’s something morbidly fascinating and addicting about it – there’s something indescribably intimate about watching you at your most vulnerable, those lilac eyes widening and staying transfixed on every aspect of you that he can. He’s watching like a hawk as you squeeze at your breast, watching to see if you pinch at your nipple or roll it, if you squeeze hard and hold it there or opt for weaker but more frequent squeezes.

He’s carefully watching your fingers, analyzing the patterns and shapes you’re drawing against your clit, how fast you’re going and whether you vary anything or keep it all consistent.

(He’ll even press his fingers against the expanse of his forearm as he watches, mimicking your motions against his own skin in an effort to practice, to learn by muscle memory exactly how you like to be touched so that once he gets you naked and spread out for him, he can be exactly what you want and give you exactly what you need. He’ll do this with the way you finger yourself, too, guessing at the particular angles you’re reaching for based on the way your wrist flexes, how your knuckles move. He’ll go home and practice this, too, using his pillow as a poor stand-in for your body and practicing thrusting in the pattern you seem to like, angling his hips to brush against the spot that always gets you gasping, buffing up his stamina because he’ll be damned if the first time he gets you naked underneath him is thwarted by his own physical inabilities.)

It helps him feel connected to you like this – easier to pretend that he’s the one making you moan and curl your toes rather than your own hand or the toy you’d purchased for yourself.

(A toy that he absolutely fucking hates, always glaring at it and scoffing because he’s sure that he could fuck you so much better – he’d get the angle right, he’d get the depth perfect, and he’d do all the damn work – you just need to lay there and look pretty, grasp onto him and moan his name and he’ll take care of the rest. He'll always take care of you, after all, and he wants the sex to be absolutely perfect, for you to crave him even a fraction as much as he craves you.)

And even once he’s forced to steal you away, these habits of peeping in on you while you’re lost in your own little world don’t magically disappear. It’s more difficult now, sure, because standing and peering through your window was always easier, always less risky, but Sanemi becomes too desperate and in withdrawal to stop himself.

His lucidity leaves him feeling guilty every time, but he’ll crack the door into your room open ever so slightly, having returned home from a mission or an errand earlier than he’d told you. He’ll peek in, doing his best to move slowly and silently to avoid grabbing your attention, and he’s immediately got his hand in his pants, gripping himself so tightly and harshly that it nearly brings tears to his eyes.

His orgasms are always stronger when he’s got you in his sight, and as he times his strokes with your thrusts inside yourself, he’s clenching his abs and shaking, hips coming up to thrust and rut against his fist. He’s staying deathly quiet, intent on hearing the sound of your moans and the wet squelching of your cunt sucking your fingers in again and again. And when he comes, he’s praying that you’ll finish at the same time, forcing himself to stop and endlessly edging himself just so that you can come together, to have something romantic and sweet like a simultaneous release.

(Of course, the aftermath of cum staining the front of his trousers and his upper thighs is less sweet, but Sanemi can’t quite care – even as it dries and grows cold, feeling slimy and sticky against his skin. He’s too transfixed watching the way your chest slowly stops heaving, how you relax and bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, how you idly play with your nipples and smile up at the ceiling, and if he tries harder enough - pretends hard enough, really - he can even hear you murmur his name.)

The intention is relatively sweet, no matter how deranged and creepy he may feel for actively spying on you as you undress, but he’s just a man, and how can a man be expected to deny himself the viewing pleasure of the woman he’s so madly, pathetically obsessed with?

But unfortunately for Sanemi, you’re not as oblivious as he hopes – you’ll notice the way he lingers at your door, his occasional soft, shuddering gasps not going unheard even over the sound of your own moans. You’ll see his shadow against the door panels, even seeing the shadow of his cock when he pulls it out of his pants, the mere sight making your orgasm hurtle closer and closer, even despite your shame at finding your kidnapper’s cock arousing.

You’re not blind, and it’s almost therapeutic to watch how easily he falls apart for you, the shadow of his back hunching over slightly as you both near your ends, the wet squelching sounds of his fist going up and down just barely audible if you strain yourself hard enough. It’s endearing, in a fucked-up sort of way, but if you were to ever mention something about it, Sanemi will immediately bristle, embarrassment crawling up his spine and his cheeks glowing a soft, subtle pink, entirely caught off guard and unsure of what to say.

(He’s mortified that you know, that he’d been caught, if only because now he’s absolutely convinced you must think of him as a pervert, as a monster, and it kills him to know that it’s true. And yet, there’s some small, masochistic part of him that’s almost glad, finding the whole situation so, so very hot because now he can’t help but wonder if you’d started touching yourself on purpose, perhaps wanting to draw him out, perhaps wanting to listen to him losing his fucking mind over your naked body. You naughty, naughty thing.)

And so, once your consensual sexual relationship begins, Sanemi is using every piece of knowledge he’d gathered from watching you to his advantage – he’s not wasting any time putting all that practice into use, curling his fingers and rubbing and kneading just how you like it, watching with wide, almost nervous eyes to see how you react, hoping that he’s doing good and making you enjoy it, enjoy him.

He wants you to tell him how it feels, to hear you say that it’s good, that you love it when you touch me ‘Nemi, and that alone gets him doubling in his efforts, frantic to get you to orgasm for him and only him, filled with a sort of crazed need to be the one to finally, finally bring you your high.

And as time passes, you’ll notice that Sanemi tends to bring this kink into the bedroom, too, even when you’re fully aware of his presence – he’ll tell you to touch yourself, settling across the bed, and slowly fisting at his cock, licking his lips and watching with rapt attention as you spread your legs, playing with yourself and humming his name.

But it’s not quite the same as when you were alone, though, and Sanemi will tell you to act like I’m not here, don’t make shit up or fake your moans. He wants the authenticity, the rawness, the realness of you fully indulging in yourself.

It’s in these moments that you’ll see the more submissive side of Sanemi – the small part of him that absolutely loves when you ignore his existence, pretending he’s not fisting his cock like a madman simply to the sight, smell, and sound of you. He likes the way that you’re not paying him any mind, completely focused on yourself, Sanemi merely a bystander and watching you. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s in these moments that his obsession only further solidifies, his feelings for you growing stronger and latching into him deeper, like claws that make him shiver in pain-tinged pleasure. Because really, he can only consider himself lucky and cruelly blessed for getting to see you like this, for being allowed so close to you as you gush on your fingers and pinch at your nipples. It’s an honor, even if that explanation makes you shift uncomfortably and try to ignore the reverent look in his eye.

You’re just so damn pretty, can he really be blamed for wanting to stare and stare and stare?

Marking

While hyper fixated on your health and safety in every aspect of his obsession, one area where he’s ever so slightly lenient is in bed. He’ll outright refuse to do anything that draws blood or involves hitting you, but there’s something rather tempting about the idea of leaving a trace of himself after he spends hours upon hours getting you to come on his fingers and cock.

He likes the reminder that he’d been able to pleasure you, the feeling enough to get you moaning and clawing at his back and whining his name. And so, Sanemi develops a liking for leaving all sorts of hickeys and love bites all over your body.

He’s passionate when he fucks you, leaving kisses on every inch of skin he can reach and grasping onto you tightly enough that sometimes bruises appear.

(And he feels guilty for it, in the beginning, always scowling when he sees them the next day. But alongside the guilt there’s something good – something that makes him smug, pride settling in his gut because those are his fingermarks on your body, showing that he attends to your more intimate needs. Reminding him that you let him attend to those needs – that you let him kiss and hold you, that you let him squeeze and grope at your skin, that you let him spread your legs and push himself inside until he’s filling every possible inch of you, connected with you in the most raw, natural way. It’s romantic, almost, and it makes Sanemi squirm slightly just thinking about it because oh fuck, now he’s hard again and really you should take some accountability for showing off your collarbone and the barrage of hickeys like that…)

He’s not picky about where or how he does it, either – what you’ll mostly be covered in are hickeys, the dark spots dancing in patterns all along your neck, shoulders, collarbone, inner thighs, and even your stomach and ass. His favorite is your neck, though. He likes the way you get all breathless when he kisses and sucks and licks at the skin, the sensations making your breath go light and airy against his ear, the harsh puffs of air blowing against the tufts of white hair on his head.

And he’ll leave all over your neck – at the juncture at your jaw, sucking a few right below your ear.

(He’ll take a few moments to lightly nibble and bite at your earlobe, liking the way you whine his name and tell him to stop being weird, but it’s endearing, the way you clearly like it and are just saying that to keep up images. Silly girl.)

He’ll flutter kisses along the column of your neck, tracing your windpipe and smiling against your skin when you swallow heavily. He’ll suck dark hickeys into the flesh of your shoulders, the soft slope the perfect canvas for him to leave littered with his marks. Sometimes he’ll randomly pick spots, the final result looking a little unorganized but still enough to make his heart swell and his breathing to get heavier. Other times he’ll very strategically place them – spelling out an ‘s’ character or a heart or something sappy that leaves him feeling a bit embarrassed but he just can’t help it.

Your neck is his favorite because of the intimacy and the difficulty of hiding the particularly high ones, but your inner thighs are a very close second. When he settles onto his stomach and spreads your legs, mouth hovering over your cunt and his warm breath making you twitch, he’ll take his time kissing up the space from your knee to your pelvis, taking the skin between his teeth and lightly nibbling, pressing dark sucks against the area and loving the way you squirm underneath his rather harsh grip on your thighs.

He’s a tease once he grows confident in the fact that you crave intimacy with him, loving the way you get desperate and beg him to give you what he knows you need. (He’d watched you with enough consistency and thoroughness for all those months before stealing you away and now he knows your tells – the way your face looks, how you sound, how your body jerks and shakes, hell, even the way you smell when you get close.)

He’ll push you right up to the edge, fingers working magic in a come hither motion against that spongey spot inside of you that makes your whole body tense in pleasure, all while his thumb is rubbing circles at your clit that leave you bucking your hips and chanting out his name. He’ll get you right there, then pull back, going back to your inner thigh and working on a fresh, new hickey, the loss of stimulation making you pout and whine for him to touch you again.

He’ll only roll his eyes, pulling back with a loud thwap noise as the suction breaks, your slick still visible on his lips, chin, and cheeks. So demanding, he’ll start, sending a sharp brush of his fingers over your clit that gets you gasping.

He’ll hold out for a while longer, milking out the way you plead with him, before he’ll eventually give in and get back to your neglected cunt, bringing you to your high and rutting at the bed below him with the way you writhe and cry out. And for the next few days, every time he sees that particular hickey he’s suddenly way too red, sweaty and panting and growing more desperate by the second to give you more more more, wanting your whole body to be evidence of his presence in both your life and your bed.

And he’ll proudly wear any marks you make on his body, too – leave hickeys and love bites against his skin and he’ll only shiver and let his eyes roll to the back of his head. He’ll encourage you to run your nails down the expanse of his back when he’s got you in missionary or a press, growling your name as his hips fuck into you harder, faster, with more intent and purpose.

(And later, when he’s dressing himself and happens to see himself in a mirror, he can only gulp, thumb tracing along the scratch marks and blemishes left behind from you. It makes him giddy, often absentmindedly running a finger over them while he travels to missions, during pointless conversation, during times when he’s away on a mission and starting to think himself into a panic about how you’re doing, if you’re safe, if you’ve escaped him somehow. It calms him and only kindles his feelings for you, the knowledge of you willingly leaving your mark on him enough to get him licking his lips and palming himself over his pants, trying to restrain himself so that he can get you to leave newer, fresher marks.)

He just likes the idea, and while he’d never bite you hard enough to cause genuine pain or give you a hickey so deep that it hurt, he will be marking you from head to toe so that everyone you come into contact with (no one besides him, really, but that’s besides the point) cannot deny that you are Sanemi Shinazugawa’s woman.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Slapping

But in a very, very specific way – Sanemi treasures you, idolizing and worshipping you to the point of self-loathing, and consequently he’s not terribly mean in bed. Once a steady sexual relationship is established between the two of you, he’ll get more vocal and adventurous, adapting to what you like.

(And he’s willing to do just about anything you want of him sexually – he’ll get on his knees and kiss up your thighs, lapping and sucking at your cunt until you have to physically push him off of you, slick smeared across his lips, cheeks, and chin while he stares up at you, equal parts hazed and irritated that you’d pulled him away. He’ll let you climb on top of him, pinning his wrists above his head and letting you play with his cock until he’s near tears, the edging and phantom touches making him grit and groan, desperation eating away at him because your touch feels so good but oh – it’s the attention you’re giving to him that ultimately makes him paint your fist white.)

And though he’s not naturally inclined to be degrading towards you during sex, there’s one stark exception – that is, there’s something that makes the possessiveness and territorial feelings Sanemi harbors for you flare up when he smacks you with his cock. Nothing too hard, of course – the intention isn’t to hurt you or bruise you, but rather it’s like staking his claim on you.

It’s like showing you that you belong to him – he’ll grip himself at the base, biting his lip and flexing his arm as he shifts his weight, hovering over you and smacking his fat, soaked tip against your pretty, puffy clit, stifling a groan at the way you jerk at the contact.

He’s smacking himself against your folds, the wet and tacky noise making his fingers tighten against the pillow under your head, his breath getting heavier because fuck, you look so damn pretty underneath him like this, reactive to his cock even when it’s not inside of you.

He’s tracing his tip against your lips when you’re on your knees for him, whispered chants of your name falling from his lips as he lightly taps his tip against your cheeks, your lips, your outstretched tongue.

(And, after he smacks himself against your tongue, if you smile and giggle ever so slightly? Well, don’t be surprised when he stiffens up, his orgasm crashing through him after a mere minute of your hot, wet mouth around him. Don’t be surprised when he starts cursing and murmuring things under his breath right on the brink of his high, your name mixing with gravely I love you’s as he gives you rope after rope after rope of his cum, hot and potent and made with only you in mind.)

He just likes the physical action of it, the way that even something so small gives him the slightest bit of acknowledgement that you’re his, that you’re here and touching him and looking at him just as he’s been fantasizing of for so long. It’s hot, he thinks, and while he’d be extremely reluctant to actually hit you during sex, he’s rubbing and smacking his cock against every inch of your body that he can – your face, your ass, your tits (he especially loves to rub his cum-soaked tip against your nipples, watching as they get hard and get glossy in the candlelight), your thighs, hell, even your arms.

He wants to claim every part of you, and so between covering you in his cum and the imprint of his cock, you’ll be fully and utterly his.

Spitting

Again, it’s a possessive thing – tying into his desire to mark you as his and only his, Sanemi grows a penchant for spitting. It’s something he harshly avoids when you first begin your intimate relationship, finding the act too disrespectful and frankly gross to partake in. He’s worried you’ll find it derogatory and that you’ll see him as some misogynistic freak who views you as his property.

(Which is, in some ways, ever so slightly true – he does see you as his, but it’s reciprocal. You’re his just as much as he’s yours, and if you want to think about in such a crude, black-and-white way, then yes – he sees you as his property. But he’s your property, too, if it makes you feel any better.)

And frankly, he won’t bother indulging in the kink unless you initially bring it up – he’s too tied down to this philosophy and he doesn’t want to risk you getting disgusted or turned off when he’s touching you.

But if you bring it up and use a lot of ‘please’ and compliments, Sanemi will cave.

It’s awkward the first few times, hovering over you and perched on his elbows, nose scrunching slightly because he’s not sure how to do this in a way he thinks will be sexy for you. He wants to live up to your fantasy, so he presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth, collecting the saliva, before puckering his lips, letting the glob fall with a rather obnoxious noise.

Your mouth’s already open for him, tongue lightly sticking out and your eyes half-lidded with lust, and the mere sight alone makes Sanemi gulp, scared he might accidentally drool into your mouth.

(Though, perhaps you’d like that – you’re a freak, he thinks, but it still makes his cheeks feel hot, his cock jumping against your thigh, his Adam’s apple harshly bobbing.)

It’s in the moment when he watches his spit land on your tongue, pretty lips closing and the swallowing motion you make exaggerated and loud. He’ll pause, staring down at your lips in a daze, before suddenly telling you to do that again, the sight so strangely erotic that he needs to do it again and again and again.

It strokes something in his ego – some sort of feeling of dominance and claim on you, marking his territory by making sure you’ve got a little piece of him in you. Soon he’s cupping your jaw every time your clothes get stripped off, forcing your lips to open and immediately spitting onto your tongue, watching with hazy eyes and a small smirk as you obediently swallow, the sight never failing to get him even more eager to spread your legs and sink inside of you.

It gets to the point where it even becomes a non-sexual thing sometimes – it feels too good to be showing such an obvious sign of claim on you that he’ll slowly kiss you in the mornings, your soft lips and little sighs making him light-headed. He’ll pull back, his morning voice hoarse and gravely as he tells you to open up, immediately spitting into your open mouth and following it up with a few kisses against your jaw, a murmur of good morning.

He likes to start the day with it because it puts him into a good mood – a light, peaceful one, quelling the jealous, anxious worry that you’ll leave him, that you’ll be snatched up by another man, that you hate him.

And his fixation for spitting doesn’t just end at your mouth – he’ll spit onto your cunt when he’s kneeling between your legs, two thick fingers rubbing the fluid against your pretty folds, taking extra care to let it lubricate his fingertips before he presses quick, steady little circles against your clit.

He’ll spit into his own hand, coating his fingers and slowly pressing them into you, grunting at the way you gasp out and tighten impossibly around them. It’s lubrication, he thinks, and the idea of his saliva being in your pussy makes him shiver, the thought so dirty and taboo and so very good.

And he’d be happy if you wanted to return the favor – he’ll look at you expectantly, irritation evident in his gaze, before he sits down and forces you to stand over him, his own mouth open and awaiting. He likes it for all the same reasons, just reversed – he likes the idea of you wanting to stake your claim on him. He wants to feel wanted and cherished by you, and if you were to spit into his mouth it’d be direct evidence that you want him, at least in a sexual capacity.

It’s thrilling, frankly, and it leaves Sanemi eagerly swallowing, immediately attacking you with passionate, needy kisses and wandering hands that swiftly find purchase in groping at your ass.

He just thinks it’s romantic, and he’ll do everything in his power to win points with you. Anything to get you liking him more, craving him more.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

Despite holding status as both a Hashira and your captor, Sanemi is very, very shy about asking you for any sort of deviation in the bedroom. It’s a combination of things that hold him back – fear of rejection, mainly, but also embarrassment because he’s worried that you’ll think he’s strange for wanting to try certain things.

Namely, Sanemi desperately, desperately wants you to sit on his face.

He has no sexual experience and hadn’t even been aware this was an option until he’d accidentally overheard a conversation between Uzui and a (very uncomfortable) Giyuu, and while he’s ashamed to admit it he’d stuck around, eavesdropping just around the corner as Giyuu asked the older man what exactly that meant (only to very quickly regret it, his cheeks flushing a light pink and not even bothering to make up an excuse as he hurried away).

It’s where the woman sits down on the man’s face, giving him better access to pleasure her with his mouth! It’s quite flashy, and a good view, too.

Sanemi had been flustered at his words, too, but had spent the whole day struggling to get the thought out of his head. Fantasies about eating you out and making you fall apart with just his tongue and fingers had long been circling through his head, keeping him up at night and forcing him to wrap calloused fingers around his cock, holding the scrap of fabric from your kimono he’d managed to snag between his teeth, groaning and growling at the mere thought of what you taste like.

But this?

This is risqué, vulgar, perhaps even crude – and something he grows more and more antsy to try with each passing day, unable to stop his gaze from lingering on your thighs, biting his lip and imagining the way they’d feel around his head.

He generally likes sexual positions and scenarios where you’re getting most of the pleasure, genuinely getting off on the idea of being useful to you in the bedroom. And he finds the idea of being so surrounded by you – his sight, his hearing, his taste, his smell – enticing, loving the idea that he gets to spoil you by working at you for hours and letting you ride his face, all the while getting to indulge himself in all things you.

And he truly wants you to use him – he wants you to grind your hips against the expanse of his tongue, to let your clit press against his nose and hump at it. He wants his entire lips, chin, and cheeks to be smeared with your release, to have it seep into his skin and soak in so that he has a piece of you with him always, a reminder that you let him touch you, pleasure you, that you want him.

“Are you sure about this, ‘Nemi?” You ask, biting your lip and watching as he scowls. He’s laying down in front of you, clothes thrown off to some other part of the room and his cock already half-hard, flushed a deep pink color.

He’s cocking his brow at you, embarrassment creeping up his spine. He knew you’d find this weird – stupid Tengen, giving out stupid advice.

“Yes, hurry up!” He snaps, swallowing and looking away for a moment to collect himself. Excitement and anxiety eat away at his stomach. He’s surprised you’d agreed to this, given the way he’d very haphazardly and defensively presented the idea. He’s pleased, of course, but now there’s that familiar self-imposed pressure to make sure that he preforms perfectly, that you enjoy every minute of it, that you’ll be satisfied and happy with his performance.

When you still don’t move, his scowl morphs into a frown. He opens his mouth to speak, to reluctantly tell you that you don’t have to unless you want to, but your small nod and footsteps towards him snap his jaw back up.

He’s practically brimming with anticipation, fists clenched at his sides.

You step over him, slowly kneeling down and standing on your knees. You’re hesitating, shuffling forward but scared to lower yourself those last few inches, and Sanemi grumbles underneath you.

“I don’t fucking bite,” he starts, hands coming up to grip at the plush of your thighs. He guides you up further, moving you forward and forward until your cunt’s directly above him, a shaky exhale brushing against the sensitive skin of your folds and making you shiver.

“Now just sit down.” He tells you, squeezing his fingers as if imploring you to just do as he says. You lower down but still leave most of your weight on your own legs.

He inhales deeply, the sound filling the room and making you blanche, embarrassment eating away at you. Sanemi groans at the scent of you, the familiar musk making his cock throb even harder against the confines of his pants.

He’s slow when he starts – kitten licks against your clit and large, flat licks along your folds. His eyes are fixed on you’re the whole time, staring and transfixed, trying to note every minute, small change in your expression.

He’s steadily tonguing at your clit now, and a moan rips its way out of you before you can really stop it. Closing your eyes, you focus on the feeling of his tongue against you, his fingers pressing against your thighs, the brush of his hair against your bare skin.

But then he’s suddenly grabbing onto the globes of your ass, pulling you down down down –

“Sanemi!” You gasp, the sensation so much stronger now that you’re flush with his face. He’s using his strength to pull you down – muscles flexing in an effort to keep you still and exactly where he wants you.

Lilac eyes stare up at you half-lidded, the taste of you clouding his senses and leaving him eagerly licking for more, slurping at you with lewd sounds that only serve to get him harder and harder.

Soon your stationary position isn’t enough, though, and he’s guiding your hips in a forwards-backwards motion, effectively grinding you against his lips and noise. Your breath catches as the action and Sanemi swears he sees stars – you’re so damn pretty, and Tengen had been right about the view. He can see your face, feel your thighs around his head, and see your pretty tits from up close.

He’s gripping onto you so tightly that you can’t even try to break the control he has over your movements – he’s pulling you across his face in a rhythm that makes your breath stutter and your hands blindly reach out to steady yourself on anything nearby. It ends up being the wall in front of you, both palms laying flat against the paneling as you pant and sigh his name. His nose is pressing against your clit, the sensation only causing you to shake as he slowly builds up your orgasm.

He pulls away for the smallest moment, licking his lips and squeezing your ass even harder, kneading at your cheeks and spreading them apart from one another. “Use me, ride my face.”

You blanch at his words, doubt settling in your chest, but at the insistent tug of your cunt back down onto his face, you can only shakily sigh, taking his advice and slowly starting to gyrate your hips. The response is immediate – a groan of satisfaction from Sanemi, his tongue efforts doubling as you control the pace, smearing your cunt against his skin and feeling like you’re suffocating him.

He’s in heaven, meanwhile, tasting you with a fervor and lightly bucking his hips, the phantom ghost of your touch through his clothing making his mind spin. You’re so damn pretty and perfect and lovely and when you’re using his face like your own personal pillow to hump and fuck, how can he complain?

He can’t, which is why he’s groaning equally as loudly as you when you reach your high a few minutes later, your shakes and shivers against his skin leaving him drooling at the sight of your back arching, tits jutting out and your thighs clenching even tighter around himself. You’re so attractive like this – all sexy and adorable even when he’s doing such filthy things to you, and it’s the sight and knowledge that he’s the one making you feel this good – that it’s his face and tongue and cheeks and body – that are getting you to violently jerk and moan his name, fresh rounds of slick dripping against his tongue and making him groan tightly against you.

And you’ll be able to tell just how much the mental and physical pictures affected him because once he’s had his share – pulling four or five orgasms out of you with just this method – there’s a distinct wet spot over his trousers, seeping across the fabric and leaving everything thick and warm with cum.

But don’t worry – there’s plenty more where that came from that he’d love to you.

Plenty.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Doll shenanigans are creepy by default

Fanfic prompt : Legend but he accidentally lost his hylian body somewhere in hytopia after he got his two dolls

And never bothered with finding it again because he doesn’t feel any pain in his bones ,… if he simply doesn’t have any bones.

And the joints can always be fixed or oiled to keep working and even be replaced in worst case scenarios

He certainly has the money to repair magical things and stuff

After link between worlds he also had someone who had experience with magical artifacts and could potentially fix them ,

… if not he still has another doll in his basement somewhere

Ravio considered himself the luckiest man alive to be both able of studying such a genius construct …

And also a house with no rent ,

A hylian citizenship AND a life partner ,

An opportunity to set up a very close to illegal shop (his weapons are NOT overpriced he swears on link's right arm ‘that he can replace with no problem’)

A legal business on creating Prosthetic limbs (no way is he going to let his knowledge of Link breaking off legs for stupid reasons NOT turn into a new business … he has way too much experience)

And even the favor of the princess

His life can’t be better and all because Link has been breaking limbs enough to get a permanent 50% off deal from the sheer knowledge of building prosthetics that Ravio got from rebuilding him over and over again when he stumbles back with half his body missing and face torn off…

(It was a horrible first experience to say the least)

When Ravio went on to go join the war of ages he was the go to guy to get perfectly functional… but ungodly overpriced prosthetics

He was not at all ashamed about being in love with a doll (nobody quite got the sentiment of that)

Wars was very much ignoring that

Tune for odd reasons kept snickering when Ravio spoke about how great his (probably not real) husband was

During linked universe Warriors and legend still bickered until …

Warriors after his night watch: *goes to check the pulse of the person closest to him just to be sure*

Warriors realizing that legend has no pulse , no signs of breathing ,no body warmth , no movement or twitch implying any signs of life : *starts aggressively trying to resurrect him … chest compressions*

Warriors obviously failing at it : “cries*

Legend hearing it : *opens eyes just to realize his brother broke his non self repairing rib cage*

The entire chain (minus Sky) was awake and ready for a fight

Just to see Warriors crying in relief and holding Legend (bro was reliving trauma that moment)

Afterwards he was really having a bad time with his bent rib cage and unfortunately being examined by a field trained soldier, a healer and then dragged to a doctor in the nearest village

But obviously they would have never assumed that Legend is a doll with full body mobility ,a sense of self and metal joints

They concluded that legend is overachieving with every new breath he takes and probably is about to die because of his weak heart beat ,

His very cold and rough skin in some places (fake magic skin is expensive … he can’t replace it every single time)

His very minimal breathing

The sheer horror Warriors felt when he realized the dent in legend's chest is simply not healing from when he broke the ribs by accident

Means that now everyone is convinced that legend will evaporate if they turn their eyes away

And Hyrule and Warriors are feeling horrible because they can’t fix it… or just make it slightly more bearable

NOTHING WORKS on him (it’s twilight's injury all over again)

It only got worse when legend told the chain that he has been having such problems since his last three adventures already (telling people he is an object never turns out well)

The chain became overly affectionate

The sheer amount of relive they felt when Ravio somehow fixed the dent

And the most intense anger when they realized that they were worrying for literally nothing

The chain finding out that Ravio fixed the worst damage: …. : ) finally he good

The chain when they realized that Legend was Ravio's doll in question: >:(

The chain reaction when legend admits he lost his body somewhere as if it is something acceptable to say : :o

The chain : how did you lose your body

Legend : accient :) silly mstke

[ginnvngagap]

no, Jayce Talis didn't mean "Viktor, your terminal illness and physical disability that causes you constant pain are fxcking awesome actually, you should totally enjoy them" he meant "Viktor, your terminal illness and psysical disability don't make you any less loveable and I never saw you as weak or pitiful because of them. in my eyes, you were always perfect."

I have a feeling this take stems from a fundamental misunderstanding of what internalized ableism (or bigotry in general) actually is.

as a personal example, I don't exactly agree with the autism as a superpower narrative, and I refuse to be ashamed of not being proud of every single aspect of my neurodivergence and mental illnesses. no, I don't want a cure, because it still defines me as a person, but if someone announced tomorrow that they can fix my autistic inertia, executive dysfunction or sensory problems with just a flip of a switch, I'd accept that in a heartbeat. not wanting to suffer is not the same as thinking I am worthless or lazy because of my neurodivergence.

as another example of internalized bigotry: I've seen a user on the bird app having to defend herself against people who insisted that thinking periods are gross and unpleasant to have is her hating her womanhood. but listen, I fxcking hate having a uterus. I hate that I can get pregnant (I have tokophobia), and I hate periods with a fiery passion (and mine aren't even that painful, I rarely have cramps and they always last around 5 days). I don't like how they feel, I don't like the pain, the mood swings, and yes, I find blood coming out of my vagina gross, especially when it includes those little chunks. it's just a very uncomfortable experience overall. this however doesn't mean that I think I should be treated as impure, or inferior. I don't think it's okay to treat me as if I'm an inherently irrational creature (although I'd argue that all humans are, but I digress) incapable of a single logical thought because of my cycle, and I don't feel ashamed of asking for a pad or a tampon, because it's a natural bodily function and no one should ever be shunned for it.

bigotry is a social construct, it's shame, discrimination, ostracization. it's the belief that certain ways of being are inherently shameful and should be purged from "civilized" society, because to the "correct" people, they aren't even human.

Viktor not wanting to die or be in pain isn't the problem, and Jayce has already demonstrated that the only thing he hates about those conditions is that he doesn't want to lose his partner and he doesn't want him to suffer. the problem is that Viktor believed his illness and disability made him inferior and unloveable. he wanted to fix himself not just because he didn't want to die or suffer, but because he was convinced he needed to achieve perfection in order to be loved and accepted, to be a worthy partner of Jayce.

but this kind of thinking is what leads to erasing everything that makes us human, that makes us unique. that was Viktor's greatest error, wanting so badly to transcend the human condition, he risked erasing human lives all together.

[yourdarlingalina]

is it new years yet? | jack hughes

synopsis: y/n's new years kiss is the last person she expected, her former fuck buddy pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader word count: 2.7k warnings: slightly steamy, heavy making out, mentions of sex, a bit angsty, not properly proofread is it new years yet? - sabrina carpenter

What's the best way to forget about your fuck buddy who broke things off with you a week before Christmas? Who you definitely don't have feelings for and who definitely didn't find out about said feelings by accident?

From a responsible person's point of view, it was the correct decision. I fell for someone who just wanted no strings attached sex. He doesn't want a relationship, and it is supposed to save me from being hurt even worse in the future. But I am not a responsible person. A responsible person wouldn't have been talking about their feelings with friends when they knew that the person they had feelings for was also in the same bar.

Which is how I ended up in my current situation. A glass of champagne in one hand while the other holds onto a random guy's shoulder as we sway and grind to the upbeat tempo blasting through the club's speakers. The best way to get over a guy is to get under a new one, right? At least, that's what my friends were telling me as they convinced me to go out with them for New Year's Eve.

"Start the new year off with someone new."

And start the new year off with someone new I will. The guy in front of me is decent looking, he's no Jack but he'd do. His hands were at least doing all the right things, one gripping my hip to pull me closer as the other was pushing my hair out of the way of my neck so that he could leave sloppy open mouthed kisses to my skin. Hands roamed down my body as I brought the champagne flute closer to my lips, this night would require copious amounts of alcohol if I am to make it to midnight. He pawed his hands down from my hips to my ass, gripping and squeezing in ways that should be making me want to push my body harder against his. His mouth trailing from my neck down to cleavage, nipping and sucking at the exposed flesh.

He was doing everything right to my body, but it just didn't feel right. I wanted it to be Jack who was brave enough to handle me this way in the middle of a crowded club, not ashamed to be seen with me, but it wasn't. He made it very clear that he only wanted me in private, with no one knowing that I was his on those nights and that he was mine, even if it was only for a short time. It was like he knew my body better than I did, knew what buttons to press to make me cry out his name. How he made me come undone again and again. The kisses that gave me full body shivers and touches that left my skin feeling like it was set alight.

I was not getting those feelings with the man attached to my body. He seemed like he'd be a great lover for a night, but not in the way I needed. Perhaps if I met him before everything, I could be happy with him but it felt like I had been ruined.

A party popper would end up becoming my hero of the night when one went off right next to my ear causing the glass in my hand to tumble down, splashing champagne on the man as it made its way down to shatter on the floor.

"Oh God! I am so sorry!" I profusely apologize as the man whose name I can't quite remember jumps away from me.

"It's alright, suppose I was gonna end up sticky tonight anyway. I'll be back." He shoots me a wink as he makes off in the direction of the bathrooms. I take the brief moment to escape to the bar, being careful to not slip on the alcohol or broken glass scattering the floor.

I push past the glitter and sweat coated bodies, pushing myself into a corner where I don't think my former dance partner will find me. One of the bartenders comes over to take my drink order not long after I get into my seat.

"What can I get for you?" The man asks quickly, obviously on the verge of losing it due to the new year's rush tonight.

"She'll have a vodka cranberry and I'll have a beer." A voice says from behind me, a voice I know extremely well. I didn't know he was going to be here tonight. Not a single person thought to mention that to me? The bartender makes a move to speak but the man behind me continues, "Brand doesn't matter, just whatever you have." The bartender just nods then scurries off to get our drinks.

I slowly turn on my stool to face him.

"Jack." I say, acknowledging him.

"y/n." He says back, sending shivers down my spine with just how he says my name. He moves closer, keeping me between the counter and his body. Leaning over his body almost touches mine, he keeps his eyes on me, his face getting closer, and for just a second I think he's about to kiss me, but his fingers wrap around the beer bottle that was placed on the counter and suddenly he's back where he was originally standing. "You seem to be having fun tonight."

"You've been watching me?" I blurt out before I could think. Instead, grabbing my drink, putting it to my mouth before I could say anything else.

"Hard not to when you're basically letting whoever that was fuck you in front of everyone." He bitterly spits out. He's jealous? He's not allowed to be jealous. He doesn't want me, I got that loud and clear.

"So? Why do you care?" His eyes snap to me. "I'm not yours, I never was." I break my eyes away from his, suddenly thinking about how interesting my drink looks. He smirks at my sudden movement, his fingers grip my chin and force me to look at him. His face is so close to mine again, I can feel his breath on my face, can smell the alcohol off his lips. He's intoxicating. I clench my thighs together at the small act. Even like this he still has so much power over me. I am undoubtedly his.

His eyes flick from my eyes down to my clenched thighs to my eyes again to the countdown clock behind me and finally back to my eyes. "Thirty minutes till midnight. Meet me on the balcony upstairs in fifteen?" He's asking but it comes out as more of a command.

"Why would I do that?" I push back. I can at least hold onto a little bit of my dignity during this. Can't I? Might be debatable.

"Because I made a mistake two weeks ago." He whispers against my lips. My eyes flutter shut, he's gone when I open them.

◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈

Fifteen minutes went by quicker than I would've liked for them to. I still haven't made up mind on if I should talk to him or not, but my body decided that I'd still go. I slowly made my way up, giving myself more time to collect my thoughts. I hadn't talked to him properly since that night.

It was a night out after a big win, Jack had invited me and some friends to go out with him and the team. Teasing remarks were thrown at me about how I look at Jack like I was in love. I never did hide my staring well. He had noticed too, how when he looked over at me, my eyes were already on him. Adoration was obvious in my eyes when they were on him. When I got quiet and didn't make any attempt to shoot down the accusations they all got loud. "You love Jack!" They shouted over and over. My cheeks flushed, embarrassment flooded up veins, I had to get away from it.

He heard. I turned to leave the group and he was behind me, eyes wide and jaw slack in shock. He was frozen, a deer in headlights. Me whispering his name snapped him out of his daze causing him to walk off in the opposite direction. I made the mistake of going after him.

"We said no strings attached." He said after the door slammed behind me, his back still facing me.

"I know." My words came out whispered, I was terrified of this. This was never meant to happen. Feelings were never supposed to happen. He was never supposed to find out that one of our few rules were broken.

"We can't continue like this." He finally turned and faced me. He showed no emotion, he was so goddamn hard to read. His blank facial expressions would be the bane of my existence.

"I know." I whispered again, the only words I could get out. I fucked up, by catching feelings, by continuing this when I knew I caught feelings. I tried to push them down and pretend that they didn't exist, but it just wasn't enough.

"I don't love you." I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the tears start to well up and not daring to let them have the chance of escaping. I knew how he felt, but hearing it was a completely different feeling.

"I know." I sobbed out. He was gone by the time I opened my eyes.

Here I was, yet again, going after him. I somehow made it to the top of the stairs and through the crowd of dancing bodies. There he was, standing on the balcony, leaning over the railing and looking out at the Hudson. I stood there for a good minute, just staring at him, debating on if it was even worth listening to him. Did he really make a mistake or was he just feeling guilty that he didn't reciprocate my feelings?

"What was the mistake?" I finally ask.

His head whips around so fast that I almost think that he's about to give himself whiplash. A small laugh like huff comes out as I walk further out onto the balcony.

"I almost thought you weren't gonna come." His voice is softer, careful, like he was actually scared of the thought that I wouldn't meet him. I look back at the countdown clock on the wall, ten minutes to midnight.

"I like to be fashionably late." He lets a small laugh escape at my comment. God, I love that sound.

"You always have." He turns away again, hands gripping the railing, knuckles turning white from the tension.

"You still haven't answered my question." I say, waiting for him to finally tell me what the mistake was. Was he regretting ending us or how he spoke to me?

"That night." He starts to say before cutting himself off, lips pursed into a thin line.

"Yes?" I nudge his leg with the tip of my heel. He looks at me, eyes scanning my face like he's trying to read my thoughts. Trying to get any idea of what I'm thinking.

"I lied to you." No. "I said I didn't love you." No. "I lied." No.

I should be wanting to hear this, but I don't. I never thought I'd be the type of person to run back to a man just because he gives me a pretty apology and I will not start now, especially when I know it's not true.

"You don't love me, you just miss the sex. Don't worry, you'll find someone else to suck your dick." I move to walk away before I feel this hand come up to grip my arm. He was not going to make this easy for me. All I want to do is go home and crawl under my blankets, forget that all of this even happened in the first place.

"Please, just hear me out." I turn my head to look at him and goddamn those eyes that make me want to melt. He's looking at me so sweetly, I've never seen him look at anyone like this.

"Make it quick." I brush off his hand and lean back towards the railing.

"Oh come on, you know I don't do quickies." He attempts to make a joke, a playful smile pulling on his lips. It quickly fades though as he get serious again. "I broke our rule before we even made it." My head snaps up at his words. What?

"I loved you before we slept together that first time." He can't be telling me the truth. No, our first night together was a drunken mess that was just meant to be a one night stand. The relationship that came after was just mutually beneficial, he didn't have to worry about someone running to the tabloids and I got someone who touched me in a way I didn't think was possible.

"Stop lying to me." I choke out. I don't need a pity confession from him, especially when I just want to leave him behind next year which is in, I quickly check the clock, three minutes.

"I'm not!" He counters back just as the words leave my mouth.

"If you loved me you wouldn't have reacted like that." My eyes are brimming with tears, this is not how I wanted my night to go. I just wanted to find a new guy to kiss at midnight to make me forget about Jack.

"I never thought you'd feel the same." How he could think that is astounding. I don't think he realizes just how magnetic he is, and not just because he's Jack Hughes, hockey star. No, he was much more than that. A good friend, a shoulder to lean on, someone that listens when you really need it, a respectful person who makes you feel like you're floating when his attention is on you. "I'm not good at expressing my emotions."

"Yeah, no shit!" I nearly scream at him. "What do you expect me to do with this?"

"I want to start fresh next year." He admits, his eyes lock back onto mine. "If you gave me another chance, I promise, I won't fuck it up again." He's not lying, he's being genuine. I can see it written all over his face, the softening of his eyes, the breaking down of his walls. He's having a hard time even attempting to be vulnerable about this.

The shouting from the party starts to get louder. "Ten!" Maybe I should give him another chance. "Nine!" If I get hurt again then it's on me. "Eight!" He is who I want to be with. "Seven!" Why not? Is this not what I wanted just hours ago? "Six!"

"Kiss me." I tell him.

"Five!"

"What?" He sputters out.

"Four!"

"You heard me." I say, giving him a soft smile so that he knows I truly mean it.

"Three!" He shifts his body to be parallel mine. "Two!" His hands cup my cheeks. "One!" His lips meet mine as literal fireworks go off. "Happy New Year!" People shout around us. But my mind is just on him. As he's pulling me as close as humanly possible but it's still not enough.

My hands snake up with his abdomen, fingers gripping at anything they can. His hands move to my hair, to my neck, down my chest, caressing softly down to my hips, pulling and pleading to get as close as possible. My body was being set alight, the familiar feeling I've been yearning for. He's pulling sounds out from me that I've never made before. It's from the feeling that he's fully mine now, no hesitancy in his movements, he's confident and proud in what he's doing. 

My fingers move up to curl around strands of his hair, pulling his face fully flush to mine, lips melding and moving against each other at a fiery pace. We break away unfortunately to catch our breath, our smiling faces still touching, neither one of us making an attempt to move farther away. In fact, he's nuzzling his face even closer into mine, if that was even possible.

"What are you going to do with me now?" I ask against his lips, looking up into those beautiful, mind melting, ocean like eyes.

"Start the year off right, by apologizing in so many ways." He says then capturing my lips again before dragging me through the crowd of bodies, down the stairs, and out of the door.

[neptxn3]

Synastry I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy ⋆｡˚꩜ . ݁ ˖ִ

Ok the title is an exaggeration, more like synastry I would prefer not to have, like always:

Disclaimer, these are observations I have made through personal experience and thorough research, observations also vary depending on other synastry and natal placements involved! All of these aspects can be worked through, none of these aspects make or break a relationship ❤️

Doesn’t resonate ≠ untrue

˚꩜ . ݁ ˖ִ | Navigation post

Lilith in the 7th house / conjunct descendant

♅ When women have their Lilith present in the seventh house in synastry, often times the house person can make the Lilith person feel shame just by loving who they are. The reason is because lilith in the charts of women is the area where society has convinced them is unnatural and wrong, something they should be ashamed of. So when the seventh house person who sees Lilith an an ideal desire and partner wants to love Lilith in the way they think is right, the Lilith person can pull away. Marriage is not seen as an appropriate act to follow a shameful relationship. Seventh house also represents open enemies, over time the Lilith person can resent the seventh house person. It’s typical for Lilith to pull away in these relationships in order to avoid any commitment.

♅ When a man’s Lilith is present in the seventh house in synastry, you’ll often notice they do not want to marry the seventh house counter part. Lilith in a man’s chart is the woman society has told him he should not pursue which only makes him want to chase her even more. It’s undeniable that the relationship is passionate, but it is also a sign that he does not intend to take the relationship seriously. Again, the seventh house is also the house of open enemies, the male Lilith can be very public with his intentions of not committing to the house person.

Celebrity Examples: Orlando bloom (Lilith) + Katy Perry // Andrew Garfield + Emma stone (Lilith) // FKA twigs + Robert Pattinson (Lilith)

Pisces and Libra mars

♅ I say this because Mars already has a hard time expressing its aggression or purpose in these signs, so when you take something that’s already confused and hand it to someone that will misconstrue your intentions to an even bigger extreme it becomes so draining.

♅ It’s like staying silent after an argument because you don’t know how to communicate your emotions, then the other partner sees this and thinks that your inability to work through these issues means you hate them. You just really have to hope the Mercury synastry is well aspected in this relationship😭

Sun square moon

♅ Moon typically views the sun to be someone who only indulges in their own pleasures and doesn’t seem to care about what others feelings. Often times the moon can feel as though the sun doesn’t understand or support them in endeavors that bring their inner child joy.

♅ The sun thinks the moon is irrational in its decisions and is too deep in thought to understand the suns true emotions. The sun is usually the most aware in this synastry that the moon is misconstruing it’s intentions, but is incapable of understanding how what they are saying is hurtful.

“ I want to start selling my paintings”.

“ well you’re not selling at that price, you know how much people like to lowball”.

“ maybe they’ll appreciate my art and buy full price?”.

“ moon, I wouldn’t buy a painting like that for more than 10 bucks, let’s be realistic here”.

♅ Moon person can be a push over the the relationship. To overcome this hurdle sun must be open to change, and moon must be willing to set boundaries and expectations. If not, there’s always going to be a nagging feeling in the pit of each others stomach where they know there’s an emptiness in your interactions.

Mercury square saturn

♅ Saturn person has a tendency to feel like the dominant partner in the relationship intellectually wise. They can feel like they have the wisdom and upper hand to teach the Mercury person about maturity and knowledge. However because it is in the tense aspect of the square, Saturn person has a habit of not understanding how Mercury has a way about going through things.

♅ Mercury is not only our communication but also our day to day mundane things. Saturn person can find a flaw in how Mercury spends their morning, their work habits, their food intake, how they do their hair etc. This can be frustrating to the Mercury person because they believe Saturn tends to nitpick everything the Mercury person does. The worst part of this synastry is Saturn can regard themselves too mighty and disregard the Mercury persons concerns which is where withdrawals can occur (Mercury tiptoeing around the issues and avoiding constant conflict with Saturn)

Pluto square Mars

♅ This synastry aspect can unfortunately have a great possibility of physical abuse. Pluto in one’s chart goes through intense transformations and changes that can be abrupt at times. An example could be, the Pluto person could go on a weight journey after overcoming a health problem that caused them to gain weight. The Pluto partner could expect of the Mars partner to join them in their new health routine, but the square between these two planets makes it evident they do not view this new change in the same way. Pluto can be angered with the mars partners lack of encouragement which in turn activates Mars’ aggression. Being the God of war, Mars will not back down when challenged which creates a back and forth conflict.

“ Can you get off your ass and take out the trash like you said you would.”

“Can you get off my ass and do it yourself, I’m the one who pays the bills around here.”

“I’m not taking disrespect from someone like you, I’ll leave you if that’s what it takes for you to see how badly you treat me.”

“Then leave.”

Moon square Uranus

♅ Unless the moon partner has natal moon/Uranus aspects, this aspect can be categorized as constant anxiety for the moon partner. There’s a lack of emotional stability and satisfaction which can be detrimental to the moon partner. It can feel like there’s finally a point in the relationship where you are both on the same page in life, but the Uranus counter part moves on to the next thing that causes turmoil in the relationship

♅ The reason this can be detrimental to the moon person is simply because the moon likes being in calm waters. The exaltion in Taurus indicates the moon likes to feel comfortable in the same spot for long periods of time, but when it’s aspected negatively by the Uranus individual it challenges the moon to constantly change its environment.

♅ Moon person can find themselves leaving the comfort of their home (not literally) in order to chase Uranus. Uranus finds themselves poking the hornets nest (Moon) to see how much independence from the relationship they can get away with.

Quincux signs

♅ When two signs are quincux (Virgo/Aries, Gemini/Scorpio, Aquarius/Cancer etc.) it’s difficult to understand what the other person is feeling. In sexual synastry (mars) , you both can have trouble understanding what pleases one another. With Venus signs, its a hard time understanding your love language.

♅ if one partners Sagittarius sun is quincux the other partners Cancer moon, it can feel to the moon person that the sun doesn’t even bother understanding the moons emotions, and it’s simply because the sun never even thought about what the moon person feels. Not because they’re selfish, but because they’ve never met someone who goes about their feelings like the moon.

♅ Aquarius mars quincux Virgo Venus. Mars partner can expect the Venus partner to allow them their own freedom and manage their own schedule while venus partner could be adamant about curating mars a monthly schedule to stick by which in turn can turn the mars partner off.

Quick Notes

♅ When one’s natal Saturn is negatively aspected and enters a persons 9th house in synastry, the Saturn person can seem to restrict the 9th house persons beliefs and knowledge. For example, turning the 9th house person religious/having them join a cult/demanding obediance of a woman (dispite previously potentially being more liberal.

♅ Negatively aspected natal saturn entering the money houses in synastry (2,8,11) can mean the saturn person takes away the house persons possessions/money. In the second house, they can refuse to buy you things because “you haven’t given them a reason to”/taking expensive things they’ve bought you back. 8th house, taking money your parents give you (allowances,inheritance) potentially disability checks if you receive those. 11th house, taking money from work you’ve done because of the connections they’ve given you that allowed your income to flourish.

♅ Negative Moon/Pluto can be stressful to have. Moon can open up to Pluto, and dispute being someone who isn’t shy of intense topics, if this relationships dissolves (due to other incompatible aspects) it can almost feel like “I just told you my deepest secrets, you can’t just walk away like I didn’t tell you the things that could ruin my life”.

♅ 12th house Neptune overlay. Ok this one’s a stretch but, if it gets to these deep rock bottom moments and you’re stuck in a room with someone who’s Neptune is badly aspected and it’s in your 12th house. Introduction to drugs/narcotics. Not the cool kind, I mean the one that has you sniffing the floor for snow ❄️

♅ Virgo mars man

♅ Malefics simultaneously in the 4th house and 9th house. Could lead to isolation from family and could potentially have you move away from any support systems.

[donat-senpai]

Can you please do a platonic Yandere Adrien, Luca with a reader who wants to be in a relationship not with them but like in general, what would they do if they tried to ruin her relationship when she got one and she found out🙏

Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere!

Pairing: Yandere! Adrien x Reader, Yandere! Luka x Reader

tw: platonic obsession, deception, manipulation

Thanks for waiting! I continue to work on fulfilling requests. BUT I have to inform you that I will no longer accept new requests for ladybug. I don't feel inspired by this fandom anymore.

ADRIEN

-The day you confessed your love was the worst day of Adrien's life.

-Your best friend, your closest person, almost a family member suddenly ceased to be important to you.

-You started canceling appointments with Adrien to go on dates with your boyfriend/girlfriend.

-Adrien was so disappointed and angry. But not on you. You will never be to blame. This terrible man has entangled you in order to ruin everything.

-The first thing Adrien wanted to do was use Cataclysm on your boyfriend/girlfriend. It would be easier that way. Faster. But he didn't want to scare you.

-Adrien needed to be cunning.

-He stole tests from the principal's office and planted them in your boyfriend/girlfriend's bag.

-Your school is prestigious. Such an act will not be forgiven.

-The news of the expulsion of this parasite (as Adrien mentally called this person) made you cry. Adrien was very sorry, but he had to do it.

-A little later, you found one of the tests in Adrien's bag when you wanted to get his notes. It fell out and went unnoticed. Until this moment.

-He realized what happened when he saw the disbelief on your face and the damn test in your hand.

-You asked him accusingly what that meant. Adrien ran through ideas in his head in a panic. Classmates came to the noise

-And he came up with…

-They (the pest) must have planted it. They were jealous and wanted to frame Adrien.

-His classmates quickly supported him. (He always knew that his good reputation would come in handy someday)

-How can kind, dear Adrien be capable of such meanness?

-Your mistrust hurt Adrien. How could you doubt your best friend? That person is a bad influence on you. Perhaps you shouldn't date them anymore.

-You felt ashamed

-It’s hard to leave, but your friend is there. He will help you write a goodbye message for them. He'll even send it for you.

-Adrien will free you.

-Your friendship will be safe again.

LUKA

-Three days. For a whole three days, Luka waited and hoped that you pranked him.

-Hope disappeared when you introduced Luka to your boyfriend/girlfriend.

-Luka still didn't understand how this happened. He was always there.

-Your happy face brought joy to Luka endlessly. He allowed this relationship to exist.

-He was ready to endure and listen to conversations about this person as long as it brought you pleasure.

-But the days passed, and you smiled less and less.

-Of course, your new boyfried/girlfriend became the problem.

-Luka began to unobtrusively push you towards breaking up. Why do you need a relationship in which your partner only upsets you?

-The guy’s patience finally ran out when you came in tears and said that you saw Him/She hugging someone else.

-If Luka were not a restrained person, he would have akumatized to take revenge. But you needed comfort.

-For the next couple of days, Couffaine stubbornly thought about getting rid of the obstacle once and for all.

-Your ex gave him the idea himself.

-They persistently tried to contact you. You didn’t want to communicate with him/her and gave Luka your phone so that he could delete the messages. Luka used this against him/her.

-Luka convinced you to block your ex on all social media. And the letter from the mailbox explaining that he/she hugged his cousin was replaced with another one - with threats. It was not difficult to fake the handwriting following the example.

-Photos taken without your knowledge were thrown into your school locker.

-No one could ignore something like this. Your parents finally went to the police.

-Luka invited you to stay with him while the trial is ongoing. His family didn't mind, and yours decided that a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

-The guy felt bad that he had to scare you. He mentally promised to compensate you for all the ruined days.

-Everything was going great until you found all these damn pieces of paper. Copies of your ex's fake letter. Dozens of unsuccessful attempts to forge handwriting.

-Why? Why did you open this box? Why did he forget to throw it away?

-Luka was terribly upset. But he knew what he had to do. He has to correct his mistake.

-He pushed you into the closet, snatching the letters from your hands, and locked the doors.

-Luka hastened to get rid of the evidence.

-He'll think of something. Without proof, no one will believe you. He will say that you had a fight with him and after everything that happened, you are simply confused.

-He will tell you over and over again that there were no letters until you both believe it.

-Luka did all this for you. You will understand this. He will always protect your friendship.

[lexxiie]

Since no one else is doing it, let me do the job for them

May I ask for Nathaniel's relationship headcanons? Please keep it sfw!

We are the same, we're both down bad for this man 😄

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS: NATHANIEL

Alipede version

Fandom: Killer Peter

Pairing: Female reader x Nathaniel.

Ohhhh to date this man, it’s great, but also very difficult. It is worth it, though… Right?

A nerd at heart.

He’s an incredibly smart man, which was actually what caught your attention the first time you met him.

He’s just the kind of person who knows a little bit of everything. You can have a conversation with him about any subject and he’ll be able to follow.

It’s just sooo attractive to you to hear him speak on those things that he’s passionate about.

I also picture him as someone with a great sense of humor, maybe a bit dark sometimes, but he doesn’t fail to make you laugh.

The thing is, the more you get to know someone, the more you get to know the bad sides as well, and Nathaniel is not perfect.

He’s a very ambitious man. His ambition tends to be his main focus occasionally, which is a recurrent problem between you.

I believe that before his fight with Peter, he wouldn’t have been able to have a partner. His whole life revolved around getting stronger, so he didn’t even had the time to meet people, and no girl would want to date a guy who clearly doesn’t prioritize her.

With this, I don’t mean that he never had a partner, he had his good times back when he was younger, before obsessing with evolution and stuff. He’s a handsome man, women have always been interested.

But after the fight (and assuming he may be alive) he realized that he would never be the strongest human ever, it was a hard pill to swallow, but he’s not stupid. He knows that’s the way things are.

He probably had a lot of time to reminisce on his whole life, on his rights and wrongs.

And he realized that none of the things he had been missing out on had been worth it. That’s when new things started to come his way and he met you.

Meeting you after this realization of his was actually really good for him. It’s not easy to learn that everything you have worked for your whole life was for nothing, you know? This was a very dark time in his life.

In his mind, he had justified all the lives he had taken by pretending that it was for a greater good, for research and science.

But now he had the cold mind to understand that he had fucked up.

Having you around, someone who appreciated him despite who he was and what he had done was the only thing keeping him sane.

In case you met him without knowing of his past, he took a looong time to tell you himself. He was convinced that you would hate him and leave, and more importantly, he was incredibly, deeply, ashamed.

But just when he thought that he couldn’t love you more, you stayed even after knowing the truth.

You just saw things as they were, you know? The man you knew had a good heart. You had seen him taking care of his pediatric patients, taking care of you… he wasn’t a monster.

But good people do bad things too, and bad people can become good.

You truly changed his perspective on life. You showed him what the things that actually mattered were, and for the first time, he was no longer living just for himself.

Now, no one changes overnight. He’s still a proud, ambitious man. But he wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t.

Sadly, you don’t get too see him as often as you’d like. He’s still a doctor, after all. His shifts are looooong, you can go full days without seeing him.

He’s a total workaholic. He sometimes even forgets to eat, but thankfully, that’s the perfect excuse for visiting him.

You have this little routine where you bring lunch to him on his breaks, and he loves it.

Those 20 minutes he gets to have a meal with you and talk are the best part of his day. Besides, it really warms his heart to know that you care that much for him.

And he also feels superior than all the other doctors who have wives who hate them or are already divorced

He can feel their jealousy.

I believe his work mates don’t like him very much to begin with because of how young he is and the fact that he’s already so high up.

Speaking of jealousy… yes, he is very jealous. Being confident in himself has never been his thing, you know? It might appear like it, but he has always felt less than others. Weaker, weirder… just not normal overall.

He’s just scared that you’ll realize this and understand that he’s not a good fit for you.

He feels like it’s quite the miracle that you’re with him, like it’s some kind of dream that could be over soon.

On the other hand, you also get a bit jealous sometimes. All the nurses are in love with him. And the mothers of his patients too.

He’s actually a very romantic man, by the way. Might not seem like it, but he is. Nathaniel has no problem with telling you how much you mean to him, nor with having any sort of gestures with you.

He loves to take you out on dates and bring you flowers, and he loves being affectionate in public.

Plus, he feels the need to compensate that he doesn’t see you much on weekdays.

It’s so cute to see how all of the kids at the hospital love him, they always want to be around him.

He’ll cook for you when he has days off, believe it or not, he’s fairly decent at it. He has lived by himself pretty much his whole life, so he had to learn.

He just doesn’t do it often because of the hectic environment at the hospital, instant food is easier.

Back to the kids thing, he really wants to have children. It’s a complicated subject for him, because he doubts of his capacity to be a good father while at the same time he’s dying to have a family with you.

He has talked to you about it. Would not put pressure on you if that’s not what you wish, but it would make him incredibly happy if you feel the same as him. There’s still a lot of time to figure that out, though.

He likes to plan ahead of time a lot, always prepared for everything, always thinking about every single thing that could happen in the future. This may be what made him buy a ring after less than a year knowing you.

He just knew it. Still waiting for the right time, but he knows who he wants.

Getting sick while dating him is more of a good thing than a bad one. He’ll take a couple of days off to take care of you, it doesn’t matter if it’s just a cold. He’ll make sure you are warm and take your meds, and he’ll bring your meals to bed.

Overall he’ll treat you as if you were incapable of anything. He’ll even bathe you and change your clothes for you.

Being a caregiver is carved into his soul.

It’s is no news that he is STRONG.

He lifts you up as if you were a sheet of paper, no matter how much you weight. And you love it.

Whenever he comes home from work, he’ll greet you with a hug that lifts you up in the air, he can’t help it.

He likes to tease you, too. It is way too fun for him to lift you up very high and pretend that he’s gonna let you fall.

Though he is very careful with his strength around you, would never actually intend to hurt you.

Drama queen. Will make a fuss out of everything. You burnt yourself while making eggs? He’ll have the first aid kit ready.

He thinks you are very fragile, tbh. He doesn’t say it because he knows you’ll get mad, but that doesn’t change the fact.

Loves to see you walking around in his clothes!!!!

He misses you like crazy when you are apart. Spends his long shifts counting the hours to see you again. He also tells his patients about you from time to time.

The kind of man to keep your picture in his wallet.

He is a rare species of men who love to go shopping with you, walking that much is worth it when you model your new clothes for him.

Will buy you some stuff for himself too, if you know what I mean…

He’s just someone who’s very dedicated on everything he does, while at the same time he is a perfectionist. Nathaniel rarely does something that he knows could affect your relationship, which turns him into a great partner.

You won’t be disappointed , and more importantly, you will never feel unloved.

MASTERLIST

[xjulixred45x]

Can i request headcanons of thor and nikola from record of ragnarok? With a partner that is like fluttershy, super sweet and shy and that is adored by the animals, with thor the reader is a godess and with nikola is a human he meet in valhalla(maybe reader is a biologist or nurse that help him after an failed experiment), i just love cinnamon roll characters

YEEEEEEES

(i kinda already make a Nurse reader, so this time is a full scientist)

Nikola Tesla/Thor x Fluttershy! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: not really, some spoilers. Fluff.

Nikola Tesla

• Being part of the Science Crew had many advantages! Among them, the reader had unlimited access to useful materials for their research related to animals. You could say that they made a reputation for themselves because of that, being very dedicated to their work.

• Although the truth is, Reader was someone who was very reserved, shy, and feared social interactions with their other scientists, which made it difficult for this perception of them to change.

• But it was okay, reader they just needed their animals, their research and they would be fine on their own.

• Probably the reason Nikola and reader met, even though they were both super asocial, was because one of reader's animals escaped and SOMEHOW ended up in Tesla's lab, which is a whole story on its own. .

• Imagine being Tesla and out of nowhere, a RABBIT falls through one of the ventilation ducts.

• Fortunately, the rabbit's fall was cushioned by Tesla's head!

• The first thing Tesla saw when everything stopped spinning was an extremely embarrassed reader, apologizing repeatedly while grabbing their rabbit.

• they definitely left an interesting first impression, but somehow they ended up becoming friends after that! (Nikola enjoys telling how they met, not because it bothers him or wants to embarrass the reader, but because he genuinely thinks it's funny.)

• I think one of the biggest points of interest between the reader and Tesla is the care of pigeons, you can't convince me otherwise. Reader get into the habit of info-dumping on pigeons while they cure them or looking fondly at Tesla's mechanical pigeons.

• As expected, it is Tesla who does much of the talking between the two, but the reader makes sure to show that they is listening, whether by giving small contributions to the conversation, asking questions, not falling asleep, etc.

• Tesla has tried (and failed) to help with stage fright and reader shyness, after all you don't have to be ashamed of showing off your discoveries! However, the vast majority of times this ends with the reader fainting from embarrassment at having stuttered too much or hiding behind the biggest person in the room.

• since they he already learned His esson and don't force them out of the box if they don't feel ready, even if he had to learn it the hard way. He dosen't want to make them uncomfortable.

• Despite everything, Tesla really loves the reader personality! Outside of having trouble expressing what they've discovered, he finds their empathy and kindness very comforting.

• Nikola is also willing to help the reader set limits if they are having problems, whether it be saying no, making excuses, correcting someone, etc. (basically like that “SHE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES” meme)

• Tesla is very confident in their skills regarding the tamming of the animals, although he sometimes worries about dealing with such…large…and rabid creatures.

• But honestly it doesn't worry him more than it fascinates him, it's as if the reader can automatically calm the animals with just their presence. And yes, they have tried it (with additional protection, obviously).

• It gives Tesla a certain tenderness to see how the reader treats animals (even the most dangerous ones) as beautiful creatures, which they are in different ways, after all each animal is beautiful in its own way!

• I have the feeling that even when the reader and Nikola are already a couple, their animals don't really end up liking Tesla, at least at first. The only exception is birds. Tesla has to put on a bulletproof vest if he wants to get too close to animals with sharp parts now.

• There are times when you do experiments together! Even if their areas are completely opposite, it helps Tesla a lot to have 1- extra hands to work with and 2- it gives him a boost of energy to see the reader when he is tired and has no ideas.

• Nikola also really enjoys how reader takes care of him and makes sure he's okay, hell, this even encourages Tesla to take better care of himself because it leaves them very happy. How could he resist that?

• Did you see that when Fluthershy is very determined/angry she starts “cursing”? It was definitely a surprise the first time it happened, although honestly Tesla is not against it if they uses it against Edison. He'llbe laughing His ass off.

• A lot, really a lot, of cute aggression, there are moments where Tesla is distracted from work, he goes to the reader, and proceeds to squeeze their cheeks, give them kisses, lift them bridal style and squeeze them, etc. It doesn't help that the reader at this point is very used to it and simply goes with the tide.

• Bedtime is definitely fun…imagine going to sleep cuddling your partner and waking up to several sleeping animals next to, under, and at the foot of the bed (they probably need a metal stand thanks to this).

• Basically a talker with a partner who listens to absolutely everything. A match made in Valhalla.

Thor

• There is a great variety of gods in the Norse pantheon, the vast majority more inclined to battle or with some aspect of nature.

• That was the category the reader fell into, a peaceful animal deity. Their existence revolved around their protection and care.

• Unlike most gods in the pantheon, Reader was not particularly violent, on the contrary, one of their most notable features was their docile, kind and timid nature.

• Although that made them quite beloved among humans, it also made them isolated from the rest of the gods of Valhalla. They just couldn't deal with their constant senseless violence, whether towards humans, themselves, animals...

• they just didn't understand them and had no interest in doing so.

• Of course, until a god began to wander through their lands.

• Now, to be fair, the fields did not belong to the reader as is, however, it was strange that a god was around those parts. Especially when upon closer inspection they realized who it was. Thor.

• He was pretty easy to recognize, if not for his long red hair, then for that massive hammer.

• The reader's first instinct was to try to ignore him as much as possible, after all, he may only be there in passing, he will be gone soon.

• What the reader did not expect was that the same god would spend several days coming and going to that same area, which made them nervous. Not only to them, but also to their animals.

• Should they try to talk to him? Will he even know they live here? He's scaring the creatures... maybe it's just a misunderstanding... but what if he gets angry or takes it the wrong way?

• Reader decided to arm himself with the little courage they had and go calmly confront the god of thunder. Of course, shaking like jelly the closer they got.

• Thor knew that there was a hermit deity who lived in the mountains he visited (mainly when he got fed up with both Loki and his father), but he definitely didn't expect said deity to be a nervous wreck surrounded by wild animals, ready to attack at the slightest gesture of violence.

• Fortunately, Thor turned out to be much less intimidating to the reader after the first few interactions. Thor was more careful with the reader's animals, either to not make them uncomfortable or to not anger the animals. Which was quite appreciated.

• In less time than the reader expected, instead of Thor going to the hills where they used to see him in the distance, he now came directly to their cabin in the woods, simply watching them work.

• Sometimes he helped them with certain heavy jobs, such as carrying food or when he had to cut wood (in that case simply felling a tree).

• Due to Thor's reserved attitude, the reader was the one who did much of the conversation, which, although complicated by his shyness, could also be understood in other ways.

• If we talk about the relationship itself, it is basically Sun Partner and Moon Husband.

• Although Reader is the one who has the most trouble socializing,they is also the one who sees things most optimistically, so Thor takes it upon himself to be intimidating and terrifying for both of them.

• By that same logic, Thor really has no interest in improving the reader's social skills, precisely because neither of them really like people, just in different ways. Like:

• Reader: oh no! People! :(

• Thor: ew, people.

• Despite being violent, Thor is actually okay with the reader's animals. It has a preference for smaller ones like rabbits or cats. Or in other situations, the big ones with whom he can be rougher (bears, wild boars, goats).

• Thanks to this reader's animals simply pile up around him and Thor simply accepts his fate as an animal bed and doesn't move a muscle until reader returns.

• Reader and Thor make a commitment to skip meetings with the other gods and stay home, cuddling, with their animals. That's more important.

• Thor is more into expressing affection through acts of service and physical affection, so aside from the above, he's probably gotten used to carrying heavy reader things when they go out, dealing with Loki for them, etc.

• They are a couple that balances each other in their own ways.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🟢🟢🟢

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

🟢I noticed high number of people that like the idea of saving yourself for marriage have Scorpio over the 8th house, but also often Capricorn Vesta, Vesta at 22 degree or Vesta in the 10th house.

🟢People with Pisces Vesta might have rather low libido. They really enjoy things that are more metaphysical and they are often very detached from their own body, not very in tune with it. They might do just well by watching films, TV series and indulging into their favourite movie snack. They are really fine with being on their own.

🟢Aquarius Ceres people had a mother that emphasized that their identity, personality and body are very unique. These are the people that will always tell you you're one of a kind, special and unique. This placement is very much "No one is you and that is your superpower" quote!

🟢Additionally, on Ceres note, your Ceres sign serves like the 2nd Moon sign. Ceres also shows how you perceived your mother's nurturing. So you could have a Virgo Moon, but Aquarius Ceres. And you might actually more relate to Aquarius Ceres when it comes to your relationship with your mother. Similarly, you can have Aries Moon, but your Ceres is in Pisces. But often times Moon and Ceres are compatible and connected.

🟢Scorpio Ceres doesn't want to think about money, although throughout their lifetime their life revolves A LOT around money. Either in form of debt, financial issues, help others with their money etc. Money for them is a veryy emotional topic. When they receive money they might actually tear up a little. When they give or lend money it's often an investment for them and they might have regrets connected with it or hold resentment later on for giving someone their money. Sometimes they make purchases that they not only regret, but might feel a bit ashamed that they even made this purchase in the first place. Also, this is very much the person to mix sex with money. Or they spend money on the person they are physically intimate with (sexually involved).

🟢Having Venus in someone's 10th house in a romantic Synastry is such an interesting overlay I notice. Often times one person really supports other's career and long-term goals to the point they help the other person set up a business. But I noticed that often that also become a weakness later in the partnership. So they continue the successful business, but the partnership dissolves.

🟢Ruler of the 7th house in the 5th house often has a crush on blond/light-haired people or those that have golden highlights.

🟢I'm not saying always, but most often in particular people who have Gemini over the 7th house often assume or very early on when meeting someone assume they the person is interested in them romantically. With Sagittarius over the 1st house (which points to an exaggerated sense of self and ego) they persistently think someone likes them despite clear evidence to the contrary. And Gemini Descendants even more so, they sometimes tend to believe they can "convince" someone if they put enough effort or try hard enough, even when the person verbally expressed that they are not interested in them. Even this Sagittarius Gemini axis can sometimes deal with delusion much like Pisces Virgo axis.

🟢Libra or Taurus over the 10th house: people at your workplace, random co-workers, even your boss will be very interested in your relationship status. Those around you will often speculate whether you have a partner or ask you if you are single. Also, if you have one of these two signs, be mindful with who you are connecting yourself with, because people around you might often make assumptions or jump to fast conclusions to who you are dating, even if the two of you are just friends! They could see you talking with someone and they might already assume you two have something going on.

🟢People with Scorpio Jupiter often go for Capricorn Sun as their spouse or committed partner. If you have Scorpio Jupiter in your Natal chart you are likely to attract a rather controlling partner.

🟢People with Pisces and Aries over the 4th house felt like they had to raise themselves. They are also really late bloomers. They might start raising themselves and working on themselves in late 20s, 30s.

🟢When you have Scorpio over the 7th house or Pluto in the 7th house in your Solar Return chart you will feel like don't receive help from anyone and it will be the year of many rejections, either in your love life, career or you will feel rejected by your loved ones.

🟢Composite Leo Mars in the 7th house make the two of you much more indecisive when together than independently/when you are apart. You often swing from "You choose, I don't mind anything" to "I don't know". When you are together you seem to make a decision much slower and it's harder to even pick to which restaurant you want to go eat. With the sign of Leo, you might have power struggles over making your choice as the final mutual decision. You will both want things to go your own way, not how the other person wants.

🟢Ruler of the 7th house in the 5th house are the biggest flirts that tend to be non-committal, because they value their independence a little too much, but also because they have the enough charming, charismatic confidence that they can get anyone.

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

[lunarw0rks]

do you think any of the 141 guys would be ok with a hairy girl? i don’t shave down there and this guy i was going to hook up with was grossed out by it so i’m a bit upset yk? :( if this is weird just ignore! <3 thank you!

a/n: not a weird request, anon! it's easy to be ashamed about it, i know i have before, but you have to remember that it grows for a reason! <3 don't be ashamed of body hair just because of some douche!!! what matters is that you're healthy and do what you want with your body and what naturally comes with it :) you deserve better than a prick who's grossed out by hair of all things. ☆ if it's any consolation, the cod men wouldn't be. hope my writing helps you feel better ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑ ✧˖ warning(s); hurt/comfort but horny, nsfw °.🪐⋆｡°✩ ‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑

『 price 』

── I feel like price is quite hairy; everywhere. it's not like he has the time, or the desire to be waxed. he's old enough, that he just doesn't care anymore. beyond some trimming and cleaning up — he won't bother. now, with a partner? absolutely loves it. it's something for him to brush his fingertips over when he cuddles you. and it just proves you're a natural woman, which is all he can ask for.

☆ if you even think about being insecure, he'll shut you up, one way or another. first, it's a gentle scold, reassurance that he loves the way you are. something like body hair isn't going to get in the way of that.

☆ if it ever did, you have his full permission to ring his neck <33 if being verbal doesn't work... there are other forms of worship he'd inflict on you ;)

☆ you catch him in a good mood; he'll eat you out until you're convinced, no matter the amount of hair. a bad mood; he'll have you bent over until the doubt is fucked out of you. it's never bothered him before, there isn't a chance it's going to when you're screaming his name.

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

『 simon 』

── at first, you thought you had soiled the intimate mood and his completely. like it was a point of no return, but it wasn't. simon was just shocked, and he couldn't help his natural scowl. for him to even be close enough to be intimate with someone, is a massive milestone. for him to notice your body hair? not a chance. he won't mention it unless you do, and in this case you did.

☆ you'd made a comment about your hair, how you hadn't shaved. "is that really what you think of me?" his words came out a bit firmer than he wanted them to. he didn't mean it that way, but he couldn't help his disbelief. he was with you for a reason, why the hell would some body hair be a concern?

☆ before you can respond again, even think about looking more upset. he's all over you once more — but he's taking his time. not that he's one to rush often, but this time he knows he should take this slow. simon touches you like you'll shatter, his roaming mouth even gentler.

☆ truly a night to remember, but not because of its lust. that would be the second thing on a list of fond memories. his tenderness would be; the hardened lieutenant reassuring you until you have no choice but to believe him.

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

『 soap 』

── though he's well groomed, and prides himself on the hair all over his body, his significant other being hairy doesn't bother him a bit. finds it incredibly attractive, someone with small features that make them, them. you would be the you he loved so much if you suddenly changed yourself for him. soap has a hard enough time believing that he deserves you in the first place, so your insecurity about something so small has him dumbfounded.

☆ shocking him into silence? not an easy task, but you did it. and now... he has to make his best effort to show you how little the hair bothers him. soap could drone on and on with verbal praises, but that only does so much. what better convincing, than raw actions?

☆ his silence is almost eerie; the cloud of desire and longing that fogged his eyes. you were his, no matter how you looked, and he was going to make sure you knew it once the night was over.

☆ absolutely ruins you, like he had done many times before, only tonight is especially messy. pulls out all the stops — prolonged foreplay, hands guiding you, etc... forces you to keep eye contact with him, and on your body as he pleasures you. and still, he doesn't say anything except praises for your natural self, right into your ear. "fuck, look at you, bonnie. good f' me, aren't ye, pretty girl?"

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

『 gaz 』

── it was a blissful moment until you expressed discomfort towards him dealing with your hair. he's irritated, but not an ounce of it is towards you. who made you feel that way? how could someone like you be insecure? did he need to do more to ensure you knew he paid little mind to something so trivial? he was laser-focused now, and it wasn't going to break. you'd never seen him like this, it was daunting, almost.

☆ he made it clear, that this wasn't a burden of his. "don't ever say that again, sweetheart. don't even think it." gaz whispers into your ear, hand running over your frame from top to bottom. "look at yourself, so goddamn gorgeous, hair or not — you don't see it. I'm gonna make sure you do, no exceptions." though his expression was stern, his speech couldn't have been more tender.

☆ you won't even lift a finger, unless it's to hold onto him for dear life, to paint a picture. yes, he's being tender and reassuring, but that doesn't mean gaz rearranging your guts. his attention to every detail on your body, his whispers of praise, his skilled mouth kissing every inch of your flesh.

☆ you'll think twice before you doubt yourself again. and he's a damn persistent man — so good luck to you if you do ;)

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

[chippedteacupchat]

Rumplestiltskin is such a compelling and relevant character and here is why...

His story is about how abandonment, childhood trauma, and labels can affect a person throughout their entire life.

In season 6, we learn that Rumplestiltskin came from what appears to be a normal family, with a mother and father who seemed to love him. However, after a prophecy about Rumple's future, his mother overreacts and gets banished (the only person in his family who truly loved him is now gone). As a result, Rumple’s father blames him, holding this infant accountable for something he could never control. He punishes and mocks Rumple by giving him a name people would laugh at and later tricks Rumple into believing he loved him, only to abandon him in pursuit of eternal youth in Neverland.

Rumple now has to live under the label of his father's cowardice but he is not willing to accept that label yet (notice how I say yet).

Years later, he's married to a woman who seems to love him, and despite his past, he appears unaffected. When called to war, he sees it as a chance to prove he’s different from his father. But a seer warns him that going to battle will leave his unborn son without a father. Realizing he can’t be the hero he imagined, Rumple injures himself to avoid fighting and embraces the label of coward, fearing he might abandon his son like his father did to him. His wife is so ashamed that she lets him raise their son alone, telling him she wishes he were dead before leaving him and their child and so yet another person abandoned him.

A few years later, Bae is old enough to fight because the age limit for the Ogre’s War has been lowered, and they want to force him into battle.

(at this point Bae is the only person left who hasn’t abandoned Rumple and still loves him.)

Rumple has always felt powerless, watching terrible things happen that he couldn’t control. Determined to take control, he steals the Dark One’s dagger, kills him, and lets the darkness bind to his soul to protect his son (in doing so getting the features of a monster).

Stuff goes down as you guys know but then the Blue fairy (the same woman who banished his mother all those years ago)

gives Bae a magic bean to escape. But Rumple doesn’t want to leave because, for the first time, he has magic to control his life and protect himself. Bae convinces him to go through the portal, but at the last moment, Rumple gets scared of losing his power and lets go of Bae’s hand, abandoning his son—the one thing he swore he’d never do. Now, the only person who loved him is gone, and Rumple immediately regrets it, dedicating the rest of his life to finding him.

Because of Rumple's new appearance and magic, people start to give Rumplestiltskin a new label a monster/beast, this label goes hand in hand with Rumple's past trauma and convinces him no one can love him and this Idea about himself is proven further after Cora chooses power over loving him.

Overtime Rumple accepts all his labels as the truth and starts to create a persona around them.

The most interesting part about Rumple's character in my opinion is how he is the foil to Emma Swan. Think about it, both have been abandoned and both have been given labels they have embraced, the only difference is Emma has a great support system while Rumple only has Belle and while Emma's parents regret abandoning her, Rumple's parents wish they did it 20 times worse.

So yeah he definitely has imposter syndrome: In relationships, individuals with imposter syndrome often harbor the belief that they are not good enough for their partner. They constantly worry that their flaws and insecurities will be discovered, leading to their partner leaving them.

If you know someone like this, in real life,

just hug them and tell them they are loved 💖

(sorry this is long and mostly the ramble of a tired person)

[kenlvry]

team stan+team craig with a figure skater s/o🤭🤭

figure skater reader

an, THIS IS SO CUTE

kenny

HE LOVESSSSSS IT. whenever you practice he'd secretly take pics and blushes at you. when you perform he is you #1 supporter, he literally yells your name "THATS MY GIRLLLLL LETSGO Y/N" he also has your picture as his profile on Instagram .he'd ask you to teach him for sure "kenny you can't even skate without someone holding your arm" "SO? 😒". he would save the articles of you and literally has all of your skating vids saved

stan

he finds it so interesting, like how did you that and how did you do this. he searches up your performances and is stunned. he tells randy about it and randy is like "YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS?" and brags to everyone "yeah thats my daughter in law". stan supports you though, he definitely has high hopes for you and is so sure you're gonna be known worldwide.

kyle

is amazed, he asks so many questions. how do you that? does it not hurt? how are you not cold?. he's strong on the aren't you cold because he sees you wearing thin as clothing and your skating as if its not fucking freezing. he would go shopping with you to buy a coat because he is convinced you don't have one.he saves videos of you skating and would watch them in his free time.

cartman

LOVES IT. he brags to everyone, if someone is watching a vid of you skating he brags "yep thats my girlfriend" and smiles to himself, he takes advantage of it sm. he'd go backstage and if the guards didnt allow him he just use his card "im y/ns boyfriend yk, if she finds out about this she won't let you off so easily 😒". he'd pretend to be your coach just so he can see you practice. he doesn't tell you but he also saves the videos, he doesn't know how you can be so pretty while skating in the cold like that fr.

butters

shook to the core. "HOW DID YOU DO THAT??" he's very concerned at how you do the stunts and how your spine is still intact. somehow he has a backstage pass??? everytime you finish a performance he would give you water and a coat to cover yourself "you did so well y/n!!!!!! 😊😊🥰😚" . he gives you motivational cheers too. butters is always there as a full time supporter

clyde.

HE IS YOUR SUPPORTER, might as well be the president of your fanclub. he saves the articles of you like "y/ns skating routine" or knowing damn well he couldve asked. he'd be yelling nonstop in the crowd whenever you do performances. you have to tell him that you have a performance coming up so he is first to have tickets. you did a quad once in boy was shook, he was literally screaming your name and when you did a quad he was like 🧍 "HWAR????". he 100% would compete with anyone in the crowd, like if someoen was yelling your name louder than him he takes that as a competition. you just hear "y/n letsgo!!!" followed with "Y/N YESS THATS MY GIRLFRIEND!!".

tolkien

loves it, he can tell you are going to be really really popular. saves the video and isn't ashamed of it, tells his parents about you because he's so proud of you. idk what else mans would do...

Craig

okay, he finds it so hot tbh. he loves the clothes you wear whenever you perform. i think he acts like he doesn't care that his girlfriend is a popular ice skater but in reality he loves it so much. he also would glare at anyone looking at you 'weirdly' since most of your clothing are thin and very revealing alot of people tend to stare and he would ready with a coat after evey performance to cover you up. he tried to ice skate once too and he was really good, if he becomes a ice skater he wants to be your partner fr

tweek

is also extremely worried for you, asks way too many questions "does it hurt?, are you cold? do you need a coat? dont you need to check a doctor? are you not dizzy? do you always do this? are you not scared? what if the blade hits your face?" he is so amazed at the dizzy part like you'd spin so many times and is still able to do things normally. if it was him he would puke himself on the spot. he can't watch most of your performances bc of how worried mans is, he still supports you though. he would get really worried about you and would end up watching at a live stream somewhere ong

[cybernetic-cosmo]

𝓓𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓬𝓼

North Shaw

Do I have to say it again? I'll say it again

Another firm believer of private not secret

It's not that he's ashamed of you or anything, it's actually the complete opposite

I feel as if he'd mention you in interviews a lot, sharing funny stories about all the trouble you two get in. He'd love talking about you but he's just not the type of guy to open up a lot about his private life so he'd definitely withhold some details about your relationship from the public

Speaking of trouble, you guys would probably be like partners in crime

Yk how Spenza is always investigating the other super league teams? I feel like you two would do that together occasionally

Type of guy to troll on roblox with you

He's always dragging you out of your comfort zone and trying to convince you to try new things but he never forces them onto you

I can definitely picture you featuring in his reality TV show that he got in that one episode

On days where you want something calm you guys would probably do something like having a picnic on the beach

Definitely complains about Liquido to you, you guys would be gossip buddies

Always holding your hand, whether you're on a date, at home alone, at Cool Joe's club with the rest of the team or laterally anywhere else, his hand WILL be holding yours

He probably plays boardgames with you and gets super competitive

Loves cuddling and he's probably super warm so it's a bit irritating in the summer but he makes up for basically almost giving you a heatstroke by always taking you to the most thoughtful dates

He probably gets really clingy when he's sick and may or may not have kissed and gotten you sick at least once

He felt bad after but made up for it eventually

Amazing listener, he probably loves hearing your voice

He's extremely loyal

He's probably your hype man, if you don't like someone then he doesn't like them as well and will give them the most disgusting side eye possible every time he sees them

Overall just an amazing boyfriend except for the fact that he probably likes biting you

Not big bites, just small nibbles while cuddling

Probably has photos of you in his phone case and in his locker at Strikaland

That's all I could think of for him, this is unedited and I'm writing at 1am with the flu so I can focus on a Dancing Rasta request so bare with me here. I'm not really a North Shaw girl so it took me a while to think of anything

Hope y'all have a good day, that's everything for now 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[jlepixie]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ she sinks in holy sadness ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

╰ ୨ Draco in a relationship ୧ ╯

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚.

☆ your first ever friend at Hogwarts was Pansy, when she suggested that you should meet her friend group you got a little nervous because you knew about Draco and his mean personality. At first, as expected, he was brutally mean to you, almost knocking you down every time he passed by, or just verbally bullying you. That was until you got the guts to confront him, it was late at night in the library where he would spend most of his time. When he heard everything you had to say, and seeing the tears struggling not to come out of your eyes, he had a shocked looked on his face. Leaving him alone made Draco to rethink his actions and try to be more open minded with you.

☆ After the thought of him liking you popped in his mind, he tried to deny it and convince himself that this couldn't be true. But after some time passed he finally accepted his feelings. He wouldn't confess immediately because more or less he is scared of you rejecting him, but he would definitely scare all the guys who even try to look at you, that act mostly annoyed you. At some point he brought you to the astronomy tower, apologised for his behaviour, and told you he really just has a major crush on you.

☆ The first few weeks he would try his best to keep your relationship a secret, because mostly he wouldn't want his parents to find out about you, scared that they might do or say something to you. But eventually you couldn't hold it any longer and confronted him about the situation. That act led to not hide it anymore, and surprisingly when his parents found at, Narcissa was actually really happy for his son, seeing how nice you were treating him.

☆ Draco is way too much protective than you thought. He would give death glares to does who even try to talk with you. Let's just say that he wants you all to himself. If was someone who tried to talk bad about you behind your back, or just insults you straight to your face he would literally fight them. He is also the jealous type, he would probably get really angry and give the silent treatment. Draco threatens everyone he thinks are trying to steal you or hurt you.

☆ He sometimes had difficulty showing his true emotions to others but especially to you. This can get really frustrating for both of you, especially at the beginning of the relationship however, the longer you two are together, the easier it gets for him. Felling comfortable around others was always a problem to him but he found out that he can relax when you are around him, and that always puts a smile on him. Draco is at the point where he feels that he is capable to show his real self around you, which is even better than you could've imagined. You are also the only one that is allowed to see him braking down and he is really comfortable with it because he finds your affection towards him comforting.

☆ Him not being used with having a partner, makes it a little harder to treat you the way you deserve, even if he knows it's wrong but can't control it yet. You have to be there for him, to be patient and to show him what you do and don't like to do, or to be done to you.

☆ Draco loves taking you on dates, especially if its somewhere privet, not because he is ashamed of you or doesn't want to show you of, he defiantly wants that. But how he wants you all to himself, he enjoys time with you alone where you two can grow together as a couple, to learn and do things you like.

© 2023 jlepixie.  ─  please do not copy,  repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission. 

[cocosparkel]

Risk

a small Daminette fic inspired by the song Risk by Gracie Abrams

Marinette's heart was beating fast like never before. 

She could hear slight footsteps near the door. She jumped out of her seat and rushed towards the door and pushed it open looking for those breathtaking deep green eyes.

Except, there was no one there.

Embarrassed, she closed the door. Turning around she saw her Kwami, floating to her eye level giving her a knowing look, “Why did you randomly open the door Marinette? Were you looking for someone?”

Blushing, she glared at the Kwami, scandalised “Tikki ! What are you implying ?”

Tikki just laughed and floated away.

Sighing she dropped into the couch, trying to calm her racing heart.

Look at me now Said I wouldn't do it, but I hunted you down

Damian Wayne, her new crush friend, was visiting her today. Damian was from America, as a part of the exchange student program. She had been partnered with him for a chemistry project, and he was coming over to do the project, no other reason.

Yet, Marinette had put extra effort into meticulously arranging her room that day, and picked out her favorite clothes. She had gone through a hundred scenarios of how the day would go, and almost drowned in them.

She had never felt so strongly for anyone, not the way she did for Damian.

She had told herself, the second she saw him, that she wouldn't have anything to do with him, but here she was. 

Know you had a girl, but it didn't work out

To be honest, she doesn't really know him. Except for the fact that he recently broke up, and that-

Well.

That's pretty much all she found out before she decided to stop stalking him.

I'm not proud Guess I'm just scared of you shooting it down You can just talk, and I'll stare at your mouth It could be bad, but I wanna find out

She was scared too, of him dismissing her massive crush, but she didn't care. She knew it was risky, that she didn't really have a chance; knew that itcould be bad, but she was ready to find out, either way.

And I wake up In the middle of the night With the light on And I feel like I could die

She had been unable to sleep the previous day, her anxiety spiking. Despite falling asleep with great difficulty, she had woken up in the middle of the night, feeling as if she was going to die. She flipped on the lights and paced for half and hour, trying to calm her nerves. 

'Cause you're not here And it don't feel right 'Cause you're not here

She was ashamed to say this, but she had thought fo a split second, that he was in her room. But of course, he wasn't there. but she wanted him there

God, I'm actually invested Haven't even met him Watch this be the wrong thing Classic God, I'm jumping in the deep end It's more fun to swim in

By the gods, she was in deep. Completely and totally invested in how this was going to go. She was ready to bend, and even break for this, and if it went wrong, he would be her favorite mistake. She was bursting to tell him how she felt, but it was way too soon to tell him that.

Heard the risk is drownin', but I'm gonna take it I'm gonna take it

“I know the risk, Chloe, but I'm ready to take it.” She had told Chloe, determined to see if there was a possibility of something happening between her and Damian.

Isn't it fun? Thinking I'm right when I'm probably wrong Holding my breath like I met Someone

“Do you really want him, Mari-hime ?” Kagami asked, after Chloe told her about Damian.

God, I'm actually invested Think I really want this I'm not even kidding No, I'm actually invested Haven't even met yet Wish that I was kidding I'm not, and I hate it

“I wish that I was kidding when i say yes, but I'm not,” she had said, despite being slightly wary at how badly she wanted it. But that fear  had slipped away, just as quickly as it had come.

She was convinced, well almost, that Damian was the one for her, even though her closest friends were not as convinced as she was. But she was confident about her feelings, for the first time.

You're coming to me and You get to my door and

A knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts, and she was opening the door before she knew it.

There he was, perfectly dressed, a warm smile on his face, a smile which he supposedly reserved for the people he cared about.

That very thought gave her butterflies.

I can't even speak but I think that it's sweet Yeah, I think that you're sweet

“Damian !” She said nervously after a second, "Come in !”

Why aren't you here in my bedroom? Hopelessly boring without you Too soon to tell you "I love you" Too soon to tell you "I love you"

They both made their way to her room, and the thought ‘too soon to tell you I..’ echoed in Marinette’s head the entire time.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Damian started talking about their project.

Cringing at the way she was quiet, she opened her mouth, “I think that you’re sweet” she said, and regretted it immediately.

Too soon to tell you "I love you" Too soon to tell you "I love you" Too soon to tell you "I love you" You're the risk, I'm gonna take it

Damian smiled and thanked her for the compliment, ‘despite it being quite random’, and Marinette just knew, that Damian was the one.

And so began a new chapter in the life of Marinette Dupain-cheng.

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A.N.

so... i wote this in 10 minutes, and i changed some of the lyrics to better suit the context.

i hope you like it :)

p.s.

do listen to the song when reading for added effects ~