#just do what makes you feel the most comfortable

[gojosprettyprincess]

ִ ˖ ࣪⭑ OLDER BF TOJI TOUCHING AND TEASING HIS SHY GF :(

Tw- just Toji being a perv :p (not proofread)

You’re comfortably seated on his lap, and the only thing currently on your mind is to peacefully continue watching the shitty comedy movie you chose about twenty minutes ago since it was movie night and you always looked forward to it but it's getting awfully difficult to even concentrate when his large hands are roaming every curve of your body in existence.

His fingertips gently glide over the supple skin beneath the hem of your tank top, while his other hand is shamelessly groping at the soft flesh of your breasts with unbridled desire like you’re some piece of meat that’s on display for him to grab and touch whenever he feels like it.

He's planting little kisses into the crook of your neck and occasionally mumbling how much he loves you and telling you how sweet you smell and all you can do is slightly arch your back and squirm under his touch because you don’t know what else to do :(

You can feel the heat igniting between your core as your tummy flutters with Toji’s every move. At this point you just want him to pull his thick cock out from his sweatpants and fuck you face down till you're drooling all over his couch but you’re way too shy and flustered to ever admit something like that.

You hated how unbelievably fast he could easily get you all riled up and horny for him and he knew it.

Most of the time Toji is the one to take the lead when it comes to initiating sex unless he's randomly waking up in the middle of the night with his twitching, wet cock nestled all the way inside of you while you’re sitting on top of him because you think it’s less embarrassing when you do it while he’s sleeping.

But now you’re so eager and your cunt is aching to be filled with Toji’s girth. You love it when his cock is stuffing the little gape in your cunt, it makes you feel so full of him but yet you still can’t get enough. You whined softly when you felt him hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama shorts— thinking that you’re finally about to get what you’ve been longing for.

But no.

He rested his hand on the curve of your pelvis before slowly tracing a long, tantalizing stripe along the sensitive skin of your neck with his warm, moist tongue and lifting his head to gaze at your flustered face.

“Aww, What’s wrong baby?”, he teased with a taunting smirk when he saw the cute little disappointing pout visible on your face. He was such an expert at getting on your nerves and annoying you with how much he teased you that sometimes, you just wanna punch him in the chest but even that would probably just make him laugh at you even more because of how adorable you look when you’re trying to act tough.

“Toji.. you know what” you murmured softly, your words almost lost in the quiet of the room, as you gently adjusted your position on his lap, moving to sit more comfortably on his big clothed erection that's poking out through the crotch of his sweatpants instead of just his thighs.

He chuckled at your eagerness, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Hmmm I don’t think so baby, why don’t you tell dear old Toji?”. The hand that was squeezing your boobs, now firmly gripping your hips, his calloused fingers digging into your soft skin. “Y’know I'm getting older and dumber as the days go by”.

“I n-need you” you whined softly, feeling vulnerable as you shifted your gaze downward to avoid meeting his piercing green eyes, heart pounding in your chest because you knew his penetrating stare lingered over your shoulders.

“Yeah? You need me? Where do you need me, sweetheart?”. He playfully inquired. You can feel the big pool of slick damping your panties as you feverishly bite your glossy lips. You can feel the throbbing bump of Toji directly under your needy core and you can’t stop thinking about it finally being buried deep inside the deep depths of pussy to the point where his jabby tip is resting at the entrance of your womb, he’s all you want at this point.

“Need you inside of me, Toji” you finally blurted out as rested your head on his strong shoulders in disbelief that you actually said that out loud. Toji couldn’t help but smirk before moving his fingers that were touching your pelvis deeper into your underwear till he could feel the puddle of sticky wetness soaking through the cotton. “Fuck, you’re so wet, didn't know you were such a needy slut like this”.

He rests his middle finger at the entrance of your yearning hole, feeling the tantalizing sensation of more slick trickling out, almost making him want to stuff his face into your delicious pussy and taste you but that’s for another time. “is this where you want me baby?”. He asked before planting a kiss on your earlobe. “In here?” He lightly probes at your dripping hole as you grab onto his meaty forearm.

“Y-yes— Toji”

“You want me to split your pussy open around my dick?” You whimpered at his sudden vulgar bluntness as you eagerly nodded your head like some stupid slut.

“God… you're so dirty, baby” he chuckled in a mocking tone like he was trying to embarrass you as if he's not just as eager to stuff his painfully hard and throbbing dick in your warm hole and feel the creamy mess you'd decorate his shaft with slowly tainting his cock.

[khioneee]

zayne hates the way you look in a hospital bed.

the sheets are too white, the room too sterile, and the iv in your arm makes his stomach twist in ways he won’t admit. you look smaller like this.

too still, too quiet. it doesn’t suit you.

‘you should get some rest,’ he says, his voice even, professional. detached, like a doctor should be. but you know better. you always have.

‘you’re here again,’ you murmur, tilting your head just enough to meet his eyes.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he adjusts the blanket over your shoulders, making sure it covers you properly. it’s a useless gesture because the room is warm, and you’re not shivering.

but he does it anyway.

a ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. ‘you should be more careful, doctor,’ you tease, voice quiet but laced with something familiar, something warm. ‘the others might think i’m your favorite patient.’

he should roll his eyes. scoff. say something sarcastic like he always does. but this time, he doesn’t. instead, he just shakes his head, something unreadable passing through his gaze before he looks away.

for a second, you swear he almost says something. but then he pulls back, his hand leaving your blanket, his presence retreating ever so slightly.

you let it go.

it’s late when he comes back. the overhead lights are dimmed, the quiet hum of machines the only thing filling the room. you’re half-asleep when you hear the soft click of the door, but even in the haze of exhaustion, you know it’s him. you always do.

‘you should go home, zayne,’ you mumble, voice thick with sleep. ‘get some rest.’

‘i was.’ his voice is quiet, careful. ‘didn’t feel right.’

‘you care for me too much.’

‘nonsense,’ he said instead. ‘there’s only way too much or none at all.’

you force your eyes open, blinking up at him. he’s standing at the foot of your bed, hands in his pockets, his coat slightly wrinkled like he’s been running on autopilot all day.

‘zayne—’

‘you said something earlier,’ he interrupts, and there’s something in his tone—hesitation, maybe. or something heavier. ‘about being my favorite patient.’

you let out a tired huff of laughter. ‘what, did it offend you? i can take it back.’

he exhales sharply through his nose, not quite a laugh, but not quite nothing. then, after a beat, he moves closer, just enough for his voice to drop into something barely above a whisper.

‘you’re my most important patient.’

the words settle between you, sinking into the space where exhaustion lingers, where unspoken things have always gone unsaid.

you study him, taking in the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to reach for you.

‘yeah?’ you murmur, softer this time.

his gaze flickers to yours, steady and certain. ‘yeah.’

you don’t say anything after that. but you don’t need to.

instead, your eyes drift to the chair beside your bed. ‘you’re staying, aren’t you?’

he doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. with a quiet sigh, he lowers himself into the chair, shifting slightly to get comfortable. not that he ever will. the chair is stiff, unforgiving, and he’s been running on too little sleep for too many days.

but he doesn’t complain. he never does.

you watch him for a moment longer, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes linger on you even as he leans back.

‘go to sleep,’ he murmurs, closing his eyes. ‘doctor’s orders.’

you want to argue, to tell him he should be the one sleeping somewhere comfortable, but the weight of exhaustion is already pulling you under. the last thing you see before you drift off is zayne, slouched in that uncomfortable chair, his breathing steady, his presence unwavering.

and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel alone.

because you never knew it. never realized it.

but zayne became a doctor for you.

when you were little and scraped your knee, he was the one who pressed plasters to your skin, his hands careful, his touch gentle. when you sniffled from the sting, he’d ruffle your hair and say, ‘there. all better.’

when you climbed trees too high and got stuck, it was zayne who came running, scolding you under his breath as he helped you back down. and when you fell, because you always fell, he was the one who knelt beside you, wiping the dirt from your palms before you even had the chance to cry.

when you got sick, he was the one who snuck into your house with soup he swore wasn’t that bad, sitting by your bed even when you told him to go home. he would press the back of his hand against your forehead like he had seen adults do, frowning like he could will the fever away just by staying close.

when you started training to be a hunter, he was the one who patched you up after every battle, every wound, every brush with death.

he never once told you to quit, but every time he stitched a cut or wrapped a bandage around your wrist, his hands would linger, as if memorizing every scar.

and now, when the world threatens to break you, he’s still here.

still taking care of you. still choosing to stay.

you wake up hours later, the room still cloaked in soft, early-morning silence. the first thing you notice is the warmth around your wrist.

zayne.

he’s asleep in the chair, his head tilted slightly, dark circles visible beneath his eyes. his hand is wrapped around your wrist, fingers loose but still holding on, like he fell asleep taking your pulse.

like he needed proof that you were still here.

still breathing.

you shift slightly, just enough to tighten your fingers around his. he stirs for only a second but doesn’t let go.

and neither do you.

[goaskangel]

perv!toji and his sweet virgin gf yayaya

toji wouldn’t necessarily call himself a cherry chaser but when he laid his eyes on you, he knew he just had to have you. you’re just so much softer and gentle and sweeter than he could ever be, he craved to feel your soft lips on his scarred skin and smell the aroma of your perfumes and scented lotions. 

and you thought it was just so cool, that a big guy like toji would wanna be with somebody like you. you should’ve at least expected it sooner, that he would want something from you. you can’t help yourself! you’re just too nervous, too shy to give yourself to a man, even if he was the most handsome and sexiest guy you’d ever met. he’s awfully touchy and lovey and part of you just feels bad. you’re too unsure of dressing in front of him, too diffident to keep a kiss going, but you really wanted to make sure he felt good.

but toji loves you, so he sticks around. tells you about all the other ways you could make him feel so good.

he lays you down comfortably on his bed as he unbuckles his belt.

“mmm, i don’t know, toji. never done this before.”

giving you a reassuring grin and nod while retrieving your hand in his bigger palm, “don’t gotta do anything, baby. don’t know why you’re so worried, i’ll handle everything. jus’ sit there all pretty for me.” he snaps his boxers off just below the pudge of his cock, and god he’s big. he takes your hesitant hand and manipulates it around. you whine gently when your fingertips squish up against a vein, he swears under his breath as he wraps his hand around your pliable one. slowly at first, he starts to stroke himself with your palm. he’s raging hard and he can tell if he doesn’t concentrate on not coming immediately on your inexperienced hand, he’ll shoot. and he can’t let this opportunity go to waste so quickly. 

“you’re so hard…” you’re practically hypnotized, the way big drops of pre pumps out of his leaky cockhead and coats his foreskin and length in a shiny layer makes your mouth water. “god, i’m always this way around you, doll. make me feel like–like a teenager again.” his breath hitches when he feels you trying to go faster, allowing it.

“mhm, that’s good.” he grips your hand tighter and bucks impatiently into your palm, your hand now slippery and gooey with his sticky pre. “thinking about that tight cunt you’re too shy about. you wondering what i’d feel like inside you? inside that tight, virgin pussy?”

“toji, stop it.” you pout at his words, they are working considering how tight you have your thighs clamped. you always wonder about it. especially now, seeing his thick cock just weeping in front of you. how he’d prep you up and talk about how he’s been waiting for this day, pushing his chubby tip through the tight ring of your heat. you can’t take your eyes away from how fucking big he is. your fingers start to cramp when he races them against himself, coming incredibly hard into the air onto your wrist. big, heavy load just sitting on your knuckles and his rough jeans. next time he won’t let that go to waste!

masterlist

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

nanami kento and his certified yapper of a girlfriend, whom he loves very dearly <33

nanami has perfected the art of the “hm.” it’s his go-to response when you’re on one of your enthusiastic tangents. but don’t be fooled—there are different versions of his “hm.” there’s the supportive hm (when he agrees with you), the tired but still listening hm (when he’s too drained to fully engage but doesn’t want to ignore you), and the you’re absolutely ridiculous but I love you hm (his most common one).

he may seem like he zones out, but he retains the important things. you could talk for ten minutes straight about which nail color you should get, and he won’t remember a word. but if you offhandedly mention that you really love those matcha cookies from that one bakery, guess what’s waiting for you the next day?

he’s the only person who can actually get you to shut up—for a moment. whether it’s pulling you into a sudden kiss, placing a warm hand over your mouth, or just giving you that look, he has his ways. you’ll still continue after the interruption, though. always.

sometimes he just lets you talk because he enjoys how animated you get. you’re waving your hands, switching between different tones, going off on dramatic tangents—he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cute. sometimes he just sits back and watches you, letting the sound of your voice fill the space around him. and you’re so absorbed in your own storytelling that you completely miss his lovesick gaze and his warm smile.

he has definitely fallen asleep to the sound of your voice. you don’t even take offense anymore. it happens often enough that you’ve just accepted your voice as a lullaby for him. sometimes, he’ll wake up to you continuing your story, completely unbothered by the fact that he passed out halfway through.

when he’s in a bad mood, you’re the only person who can make him laugh. sometimes, all it takes is a well-timed, ridiculous comment. other times, it’s just your sheer determination to get a reaction out of him. if he tries to stay grumpy, you’ll narrate his emotions out loud, complete with a fake dramatic voice: “behold! the great and brooding nanami kento, burdened by the weight of existence. will he ever smile again? will he ever—oh wait! there it is! a smirk! ladies and gentlemen, we got him.”

he gets oddly worried when you’re quiet. if you go more than twenty minutes without saying something, he immediately assumes something’s wrong. “are you okay?” “yes, why?” “you’re quiet.” “…so?” “so, it’s suspicious.” if you get quiet for too long, he’ll gently nudge you. not because he doesn’t enjoy silence, but because he knows something might be wrong. “what’s on your mind?” he’ll ask, and when you start rambling again, he knows things are back to normal.

he absolutely refuses to take you grocery shopping anymore. the last time he did, you spent fifteen minutes analyzing which brand of rice was superior, picked up random items purely because they “had cute packaging,” and got distracted by the tiny honey jars again. now, he just goes alone and comes back with everything he knows you like. (or he relents to your endless begging and tells you to not give promises you won’t be able to keep— like you sticking to his side and not prolonging the trip.)

he loves your voice, even if he pretends it exhausts him. he may act like you talk too much (which, to be fair, you do), but if you ever go away for a few days, or if he has a long, quiet work trip, he finds himself missing the constant sound of your chatter. the first thing he does when he comes back? sit down and listen to you ramble about everything he missed.

he’ll never admit it, but he secretly finds your endless talking comforting. it makes the world feel less heavy. it reminds him that, no matter how chaotic things get, you’ll always be right there, filling the silence with something only you would say.

he’s developed a high tolerance for your rapid-fire conversation shifts. most people would struggle to keep up, but nanami has learned to expect the unexpected. you could be talking about your dinner plans one second and then suddenly ask, “do you think sharks are self-aware?” without missing a beat. he doesn’t even flinch anymore—just calmly responds, “if they were, they’d probably be very concerned about their reputation.”

he has a hidden soft spot for your random facts. sure, he’ll sigh when you start a sentence with, “did you know—” but deep down, he’s actually listening. later, he’ll casually use one of your weird facts in conversation, and when you catch him, he’ll just adjust his tie like it never happened.

he’s learned to predict the exact moment you’ll start talking during movies. without fail, right when an important scene starts, you will have a thought. every time. and somehow, nanami just knows when it’s coming. he’ll pause the movie right before you open your mouth, giving you an expectant look. “go ahead.” and you’ll happily share your insight before he presses play again.

nanami secretly finds your over-explaining adorable. sometimes, you’ll start explaining something completely unnecessary—like why a certain restaurant’s menu design is superior to another’s—and he’ll just watch you, arms crossed, pretending to be unimpressed. but inside? he thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

he loves when you talk about your day, even if it’s just the small stuff. you could spend twenty minutes telling him about how the barista at the café made your drink slightly different than usual, and he’ll still sit there, listening, occasionally nodding and asking questions. because no matter what you’re talking about, it’s you, and that’s enough.

he will not—under any circumstances—let gojo encourage you. if gojo hypes you up for talking even more, nanami is done. he’ll literally drag you away before you and gojo can start bouncing off each other with endless nonsense.

he may sigh, roll his eyes, and pretend to be exhausted by your constant talking, but if anyone else ever told you to “be quiet,” they’d get a very cold stare from nanami. no one—no one—gets to dull your spark except for him, and even he doesn’t really mean it.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

A/N: this is a kofi request, about a naga that gives you a massage to help with your chronic pain… and that leads to spicy things~

You let out a sigh as you rubbed your sore body, unsatisfied with your doctor’s current diagnosis… or well, lack of one.

It had been a long time since you last brought up your chronic pain, no one ever listened to you before so why keep asking for help when nothing seemed to change? You had found ways to… somewhat manage, so was it really all that bad?

Well, that’s what you thought before yet another doctor dismissed your pain and sent you home with a smile and tip to take ibuprofen before bed.

“Ibuprofen? Does she seriously think I haven’t tried that already?” you murmured to yourself, wincing as you laid on your side. “All that money for an appointment, just to come home empty handed.”

You didn’t react when your phone buzzed on your nightstand, it was late and you didn’t feel like answering anyone’s messages after the day you had.

In the morning when you had some caffeine and could think clearly, you read the message you had been sent the night before.

“Hey, I know you’ve been having some pretty bad flare ups lately. I went to this masseuse and I’ve never felt better! Here’s the address, he said he’s free tomorrow, you should go after work!”

You let out an annoyed huff. Although you loved your friend, you disliked when people recommended random treatments to you.

As if you haven’t visited a masseuse before! Every chiropractor in the area knew your name!

“Well… guess it can’t hurt. I’ve got nothing to do tonight anyways.”

After another work day full of pain and a double dose of anxiety, you put the address into your phone. Luckily, it was close enough to your house that you could justify going home to change out of your work clothes first.

“First impressions are important after all…” you muttered to yourself, brushing off your skirt.

The address led you to a small cottage. It looked more cozy than professional, which you didn’t mind. After all, you wanted to be comfortable and had been through this song and dance so many times you didn’t care anymore.

“Hello!”

You jumped, turning to see a naga slithering up the driveway. It wasn’t often a human like you encountered a magical being, the last time you came face to face with one was in kindergarten when one of your classmates was a troll.

“O-oh, hello. Are you..?”

He smiled, flashing his fangs. “The masseuse? Yes! You must be (Name), your friend said you’d be here early.”

While you walked in, you didn’t notice the way his eyes wandered downwards, taking note of how nice you looked in that skirt.

You did the usual, undressing and laying down on the premade cot before calling him back into the room. For some reason, even though you had been through this multiple times, you almost felt… shy.

“Alright, where are you feeling the most pain?”

You pointed out your sore spots, wincing as his hands went to work. After a few minutes, he frowned and pulled back a bit. “And this isn’t helping, is it?”

“No… it seems nothing really seems to work. Thanks for-“

He stopped you from getting up, helping you relax back into the cot before his hands moved down your body. “I see your friend didn’t mention what I specialize in.”

You saw his fangs again, the way the light glinted off of them making you wince.

“You see, my venom can act as a muscle relaxer. It’s more potent and effective than anything you’ve ever tried, I bet.”

Before you would have hesitated, but you were so tired of the pain and were willing to try anything. “That… sounds nice.”

The naga hovered over you, sniffing your neck before giving it a lick. He was quite handsome, and it had been so long since a man had been this close with you. It felt intimate…

His neck sunk into your neck, and he stayed on top of you as the venom kicked in. He worked his hands into your muscles, humming softly as you let out satisfied moans and sighs.

“Mmm…”

His hands wandered, stopping right at your hips. You were plump, the towel barely covering your fat ass and pretty pussy. Although he tried his best to stay professional, he could feel his cocks beginning to peek through his slit.

“Feeling good?” he asked. You noticed his voice had a slight huskiness to it, and you decided to take your chance.

“Yeah… what about you?”

You couldn’t move much, but the slight shift of your hips into his was enough to have him hissing through his teeth. His cocks settled on your ass as he continued to massage you.

“Mmm… me too. In fact, I can make sure we feel even better… together.”

By the time you got home, your pain and sexual tension was fully relieved, and you already had your next appointment scheduled.

The naga was almost more excited for it than you were.

Want more of this character? Leave a comment!

—————

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[luv-lock]

︵⏜ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤㅤ𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃ㅤ𝅼ㅤ𖥦ㅤ۫ㅤ⏜︵

¡ㅤ ֗ㅤ ๑ㅤ 𝅼 ㅤ꒰ㅤ𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧ㅤ꒱ㅤ ۫ ㅤ𑁤ㅤ 𖥧

♥︎ 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉 : 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥?

♥︎ 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀 : 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

Mark falls for you hard.

It’s not gradual. It’s not slow. It’s instant.

One second, he’s just a normal guy.

And the next? You’re all he can think about.

At first, it’s sweet.

He’s nervous around you, fumbling over his words.

He texts too much, calls just to hear your voice.

When he’s with you, he’s so happy—happier than he’s ever been.

But when he’s not with you?

It’s unbearable.

His mind races, his chest tightens.

He starts needing to know where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with.

And that’s when the obsession starts to grow.

Mark has lost too much.

His father betrayed him. His world turned against him. Everything he thought was stable, everything he thought he could trust—was ripped away.

But you?

You’re different.

You’re not like his father, not like the world that constantly demands more from him.

You’re safe.

And after everything he’s been through, he refuses to lose you.

No matter what it takes.

Mark is desperate for something good in his life.

Being Invincible means constantly fighting, constantly bleeding—constantly losing.

But when he’s with you? It all stops.

With you, he’s just Mark. Just a normal guy who can laugh, who can breathe.

At first, it’s normal.

He loves you deeply, intensely, but that’s just who he is.

He’s a good boyfriend. Protective, affectionate—always putting you first.

He never lets you feel alone. Never lets you feel unloved.

But then the fear sets in.

What if you leave?

What if something takes you away from him—like everything else has?

What if one day, you realize that you don’t need him?

That thought? It breaks him.

And once it takes root?

It never goes away.

Mark’s possessiveness is almost sweet at first.

He always wants to be around you.

He texts you constantly, asking where you are, what you’re doing.

He flies you to school, to work—anywhere you need to go.

And at first? It’s flattering.

Who wouldn’t want a boyfriend who’s always there for them?

Who wouldn’t love someone who drops everything to make them happy?

But then it escalates.

You mention a male coworker? Mark’s jaw clenches. His fists tighten.

You go out without telling him? He finds you.

You start pulling away? He notices.

And suddenly, his protectiveness doesn’t feel so sweet anymore.

It feels suffocating.

Because Mark doesn’t just want you.

He needs you.

Mark has superpowers.

He doesn’t need cameras to track you.

He doesn’t need to ask where you are.

He just knows.

His super-hearing picks up your voice from miles away.

He listens to your conversations—even the ones you don’t think he can hear.

He memorizes your schedule, your habits, the way your heartbeat changes when you lie.

And when you go somewhere unexpected?

He follows.

He stays out of sight, high above the city, watching.

And if he sees something—or someone—that he doesn’t like?

It’s handled.

Quietly.

Permanently.

Mark doesn’t mean to be controlling.

He just wants what’s best for you.

And sometimes? You don’t know what’s best for yourself.

It starts small.

A concerned look when you talk to another guy.

A casual “Maybe you should stay home today” when he hears about trouble in the city.

A soft, worried “I don’t like how they treat you” when you mention a friend.

And then it gets worse.

The people in your life start drifting away.

Your friends don’t call as much.

Your job starts feeling unstable.

And through it all, Mark is always there.

Holding you.

Comforting you.

Telling you that he’s all you need.

And you believe him.

Because when he looks at you?

When he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world—

How could you not believe him?

Maybe you start to notice.

Maybe you start questioning him.

And Mark?

He doesn’t snap. He doesn’t yell.

He begs.

“Please don’t do this,” his voice shakes, his eyes desperate.

“I can’t lose you. Not you too.”

But if begging doesn’t work?

His expression hardens.

His arms wrap around you, strong, unyielding.

“I don’t want to do this,” he murmurs. “But I will.”

And before you can react—

You’re in the air.

The ground disappears beneath you, the wind rushing past.

Mark holds you tight, flying higher, higher—until the city is nothing but a blur below.

And then he looks at you.

Soft. Loving. Unshakable.

“You don’t have a choice.”

When you wake up, everything is different.

The doors are reinforced. The windows don’t open.

And Mark? He’s there.

Waiting.

“I know you’re upset,” he says gently, brushing your hair back.

“But this is for the best.”

His fingers tighten around your wrist, just enough to remind you.

“You’re safe now.”

“And you’ll always be mine.”

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[sexcnanami]

minors dni, 18+ content

imagine wanting to surprise and treat satoru with breakfast in bed on Valentine’s day, but poor boy could barely stay asleep for much longer the moment you left the comfort of your shared bedroom to head for the kitchen. you had only slipped on one of his white shirts and went right to work in preparing the best meal you could think of before you hear his sluggish footsteps approach you from behind, lazily wrapping his arms over your shoulders as he presses against your back, his large, obvious morning wood occasionally grazing your ass. but that’s when he perks up, the sensation feeling…unrestricted. 

“Good morning handso-SATORU!” you’re cut off the moment he shamelessly raises your top, revealing your bare bottom-half on clear display as a mischievous smile was planted on his lips. you weren’t wearing any panties and he was going to take full advantage of the opportunity presented to him.

“Don’t blame my curiosity,” satoru chuckles. “Just stay focused on the food 'til I'm done.” 

“Done with wha-” you’re cut off again but this time it’s to the feeling of his face indulging in your ass cheeks, forcing you to let out a small noise at the sudden contact. you feel his hands smoothly gliding against the soft, supple skin of your thighs, your back arching against his face further as you try to keep your focus on the food cooking on the stove. you grip the utensils a bit more firmly, feeling a bit more grounded and stable until his curious tongue slides between your folds, a sharp gasp falling past your lips. a satisfied hum leaves him at how wet you already were for him, a short chuckle emerging from the depths of his throat. 

“Did the thought of me ambushing you really make you this excited?” he asks, his voice coming out raspily. before you could choke out an answer, he plunges his long finger smoothly into your pussy, causing you to bite down on your lip. your vision blurs, threatening to close despite the focus you needed to maintain to continue your original plan. why did he have to disrupt the nice gesture you were trying to do for him? but most importantly…why did your own body have to betray you?

you feel him toy with the fat of your ass before pulling his finger out, the audible squelch bringing music to his ears before licking a long stripe between your folds yet this instance, he was desperate for the taste of you coating his tongue. your hands tremble, struggling to flip the pancakes but you couldn’t deny how good his mouth always felt on you. a part of you could tell satoru knew he what he was doing, both below you and how you were trying to still cook. it definitely felt as though he wanted all of your attention. you manage to flip over one of the cakes, the sight of the underside appearing a couple shades darker than golden makes you feel a bit accomplished before his tongue suddenly penetrates you almost like a punishment. the moment you cry out his name, his grip on your thighs is unwavering, practically prying open your legs to spread further as his face disappears back into the fat of your ass, his tongue running deep inside of your drenched pussy. your body begins to writhe in pleasure, your eyes shutting closed the second you felt his tongue curling inside you, exploring every possible twitch of your body with more pressure from him as it brings you closer to the edge of your orgasm. your walls desperately clench around his tongue, feeling it vigorously threaten to reach further and further inside your pussy, his mouth panting heavily as if he was ready to receive everything you had to give him. you feel yourself squirm against him stiffly as his grip continues to hold your thighs in place, your orgasm shooting through you and causing your entire body to shiver all while satoru greedily licks you clean. as you came down from your high, you open your eyes the moment you hear him chuckle from beside you, only to find the contents of your breakfast for him burnt as you quickly turn off the stove. 

“Don’t even worry about it cutie,” he smiles, coming down from his amusement as he notices your sad expression. “I made reservations for brunch and everything, one of the many things I got planned for us today.” you perk up at his words, feeling assured yet still feeling guilty.

“But I really wanted to do something nice for you though.” you sheepishly say.

“And that’s what dessert will be for,” he pecks your cheek. “Besides, I’d rather spend the day showing off and treating my valentine.” his words force the smile to creep onto your face before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, your smile growing at the taste of yourself on him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Satoru.”

[yourmidnightlover]

grumpy!bucky x sunshine!reader where sunshine reader turns out to be the dominant one in bed

this is just filth.

warnings: handjob, dirty talk? (reader)

bucky never expected this from you. from your sweet, innocent smile. the way you giggle, even at steve’s jokes that are never really that funny. there was no way he could guess that you would be taking him apart like a damn lincoln log set.

“does that feel good, jamie?” you tease him as you work his cock. you knew the effect you were having on him

sitting on the couch in his apartment - a couch you insisted that he get so you could comfortably cuddle while watching movies together - you poised on his lap, just on the edge of his thighs. what had started as a makeout session has now turned into something much more heated.

having been together for nearly 4 months and still not done the deed, mostly because bucky didn’t want to make it seem like that’s the only thing he wanted you for, bucky was pleasantly surprised when his sweet innocent girlfriend was suddenly taking charge of him.

you were pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck, your hand pressed to his still clothed cock. his hands were roaming from your waist to your back to the back of your head, wanting to touch all of you, feel all of you.

“so-oh shit,” bucky nearly fucking whimpers. this strong, beefy super soldier, turning into putty in your small hands.

the team was so fooled. you would bake cookies for them every week. on missions, you never dared to say a single swear word - something steve has come to respect. always wearing the most innocent, frilly little sundresses when you can. and here you are, whispering the dirtiest things in bucky’s ear.

“so hard for me already, baby,” you whisper in his ear, his hips bucking up to press harder against your hand. “and already so eager, too.” you giggle. you fucking giggle.

“please?” he begs. “god, please, sweets,” he whispers oh-so-needy, his hips still rutting into your hand.

“please what?” you take your hand away from his cock. “use your words like a big boy.”

he lets out a frustrated huff as he throws his head back, his hands settling on your waist and gripping you for dear life.

“please touch me?” he asks. “please touch me, please?” his desperation is palpable as his chest rises and falls.

“… here?” you ask, your hands gripping his broad shoulders firmly. he shakes his head. “how about… here?” you move your hands to his hair, gently yanking on his longer locks.

“fuck,” he moans as his head is tilted up, your lips connecting with his neck and leaving the prettiest marks he swears he’s ever seen. he can’t even complain, so lost in your touch, grateful for whatever you were willing to give him.

“or…” you continue to kiss his neck as you trail your hands down to the front of his sweatpants. he lifts his hips to help you push the waistband down. “here,” your hands finally connect with his member, your touch so gentle he wouldn’t even be able to tell if he weren’t so hyper aware of you right now.

he whimpers at the feather-light touch. “yes,” he nods eagerly. “right there, please?” he opens his eyes, looking down to see your small hand wrapped around his member. truth be told, the sight is better than he’s imagined - which he has… a lot.

“so polite for me,” you praise him and his hips rut into your touch. “there we go, baby,” you firmly wrap your hand around him, moving your hands up and down teasingly slow. you give him this smirk, making sure he knew what you were doing.

he moans for you, a debouched, wanton moan. a sound that he’s never elicited in his overextended life on earth. yet, you brought it out of him. he rests his forehead against yours, his hands still gripping your waist but now traveling to your hips. to rest there comfortably.

your hand picks up the pace, gripping him a bit tighter as you sweep your thumb over his leaky tip. “suck a pretty cock, jamie,” you say as you look down. “all mine.”

“yours,” he mimics your words. “all yours, sweets. forever.” he assures you - not that you ever had any doubts.

you pick up the pace, working your hand over his a bit quicker as his breaths come in shorter. his eyes shut as your foreheads remain together; he’s getting close. “so pretty like this,” you praise him. “coming undone for me. being such a good fucking boy, too.” his hips buck up again at the praise, he’s teetering right on the edge, just needing one more push. “finish for me, baby. cum all over my hand. make a dirty fucking mess for me, jamie.”

and he’s gone. his jaw drops as his hips work up to meet your hand, a cry of your name leaving his lips as his come spills from his pretty cock. his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer as you work him through his high.

he swears your the best things that’s ever happened to him. it’s not just this - no. it’s your sweet voice cooing to him when he wakes up from a nightmare when you decide to sleep over. it’s you cooking his favorite meal ‘just because.’ it’s just you, dammit. everything about you made him want to hold you close in his arms and never let you go. he wanted to protect you and guard you with his life. he wanted to marry you - fuck. yeah, yeah. he did want to marry you. he wanted you to have his kids, too. this life-altering realization coming just as he… quite ironic, isn’t it?

[mallo-person]

Yayya found thisssss

1) uhhsnm I am fictionkin and I think just shapeshifterkin? I only rlly lable myself as a fictionkin dude :P

2) I have alot!!!! Uhh but I got 4 object show ones, 3 Pokémon, 2 A Hat in Time, and all the rest are one offs for the media they are from.

3) yah! Most common is: Book (BFB), Shadow Kirby, Poppy bro Jr, Dimentio, and Rotom Pokedex!

4) uhh just in the background of my mind unless I am experiencing a heavy kinshift. Just, for me, feels like normal memories that I don't really look into otherwise, well, unless I feel that my old memories would help me.

5) I find it neet :3! Don't really interact with others but I'm glad it exists :]

6) Anytime I dream of being my kin!! As I generally, have really realistic feeling dreams, and it helps alot for me :]. While for comfortable, uhh I know that I am me!! And who I use to be was a more common experience, glad to have found others who felt what I felt, as that means I'm not alone.

7) yes :[. Usualy happens when in a big kinshift, but even when I'm not I still wish to be a void creature. Shape-shifting would make me happy again.

8) I AM BAD AT ADIVCE. But uh, domt be to hard on yourself and for labeling your experiences. You are you, and if you feel stressed trying to figure things out, take a breather. You need to take time, as finding out yourself takes forever. Don't let that discourage you, though, it is worth it.(Take me, who awaken in 2021 and still finding out new things about my alterhumanity).

9) nope and nope!

10) honeslty got no clue, I may just be an old soul trying to learn a lesson that I keep failing at lmao. Either experiencing what I dealt to others or giving what I was dealt to the people around me. Just a cycle of existence for me with no end it sight <3

11) hii hii bestie only do this if u comfy <333 @paper-bee-does-xrt

If you are an alter/nonhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[seasprincess]

season1 fratboy!Rafe head cannons

mix of nsfw and sfw

MDNI ♡ྀིwarnings: he’s pervy, lots of sexual stuff, degrading, praise, probably more

frat boy!Rafe who would take you out on dates to places even if he hates them. He’s never really been for relationship but with you he just wants to impress you.

frat boy!Rafe who will buy you anything you ask for. He’s a sucker for you and the way you look up at him as you hold that new handbag you so desperately need. And his way of showing you love is gifts.

frat boy!Rafe who takes you golfing and can’t help but stare at your ass in that little skirt. When you bend over to take a shot his eyes are unapologetically staring. If he catches any of his friends even glancing he will have a little chat. Which does involve being thrown against a wall.

frat boy!Rafe who is actually a massive perv. No matter how sweet he can be there’s always that side to him that’s a horny guy. He just can’t help it.

frat boy!Rafe who has a folder in his photos filled with photos of you. Photos of your tits, videos of him fucking you and his favourite, photos of his cum on various parts of your body.

frat boy!Rafe who has a pair of your panties that he uses to jerk off on days he really misses you. Or days you send him photos that he would die before letting you send to anyone else. He is very protective of you. He may show his friends a slightly revealing photo to show you off but this man is never showing them a nude. That’s for him only.

frat boy!Rafe who is okay with being vocal in bed. The words that leave his mouth are unholy to say the least. ‘Taking my cock like a good girl.’ or ‘fuck, you’re such a good slut’ are common themes. He loves degrading you but equally loves praising you. Luckily you enjoy it to.

frat boy!Rafe who is horny like 24/7. He can’t help it. But you’re willing to help him when he needs you. Which is a lot. Quick blowjobs in the bathroom are common in your relationship.

frat boy!Rafe who cares about you more than sometimes he shows. He knows he’s not the best boyfriend. But he does try. Buying you flowers and teddies when you’ve argued. Which is usually his fault, not that he’s admit it.

frat boy!Rafe who acts like a completely different person when you’re alone cuddling. Your hands rubbing the back of his head will make up for the lack of comfort he had as a kid. He could lay there for hours. Not talking or doing anything. He’s just there.

frat boy!Rafe who taught you how to give blow jobs and other stuff. You’d never done it before and Rafe loved that. However he wasn’t as sexually smart as he thought. Yes he’d been with other woman but he prioritised his orgasm over theirs. So you told him what fault good and he got in the habit of asking ‘does that feel good?’ every time he worried he was worried he wasn’t doing good. He always wants to do a good job. Which is most definitely linked to his childhood.

frat boy!Rafe who cares about you more than he’ll ever admit. Someone says a bad word about you? They’re being beaten up. Someone try’s flirting with you? They’re being beaten up. He protects your sweet naive self who doesn’t notice all the bad guys.

frat boy!Rafe whose arm or hand is always on you. Physical touch is important for him. Once again linked to the lack of it in his childhood. His arm will be around your waist or hand on your thigh even if you’re just sitting. He’s making sure everyone knows you’re his.

frat boy!Rafe who gets frustrated and angry most of the time. But you, you always seem to calm him down and make sure he’s okay. Make sure he calms down. The amount of fights you’ve stopped might win you a record at this point.

frat boy!Rafe who loves you more than he’s loved anyone else. Even if he can’t show you fully.

[acid-ixx]

i feel like reader from again&again would end up being hypersexual, idk if anyone has mentioned it before but they’d up having a lot of trust issues and attachments issues.

— masterlist !

tw: sexual themes and talks of sexual assaults.

i was contemplating whether i should make them hypersexual or not!!! i'm speaking from my own personal experience that it's a very complicated feeling to portray. chasing for that momentary high, doing anything you can just to feel pleasure because you were always stripped from attention that you find it in other ways, the absolute disgust that comes after, the regret, yet the constant cycle of returning to that habit even after you promised to stop from one round, doing it over and over again even if at most times it feels like you're losing your enjoyment and doing it all out of the need for fulfilment; i can do that, but that will be bordering on dub-con and darker themes if i were to write it, which i'm not sure if some readers of mine will like, especially since conner is the love interest—

but truthfully, i think it would do well for a hurt/comfort prompt after they get together. you know, trying to push yourself too hard by trying to pleasure kon despite your inexperience, fearing that he'll leave if you don't do what he wants. the panic, the hesitance on even feeling his body because, truly, you've never held someone with different intentions, never been touched so intimately by others before yourself. and that kind of turns into an addiction, a need to do whatever it takes to keep his eyes on you even if it destroys you inside out.

yet your boyfriend is receptive, he notices how your lingering touches can sometimes feel cold yet done so through necessity, how you chase after your peak even if it brings more pained tears than pleasurable moans. how you beg for more yet shamefully hide yourself from a mirror right after. his confrontation after just a week, his soft voice promising that there's no need to rush it all out, how he doesn't see you as an object but his equal, his power, his everything. how there's no price to pay to obtain his love, your body an altar than an offering, how his was always yours to begin with.

and with how the family will react to this? honestly, the first person who would break at the moment he hears this information is dick grayson.

most portray him as a playboy, a puppet for most to sexualize. he takes advantage of that, turns it into his weapon, but deep within, he has his fair share of trauma being assaulted by not just one, but two (or more, depending on the comics) women. and with just how silenced and invalidated men are too when it comes to their trauma, it wouldn't be a surprise that, well, dick would be incredibly heartbroken realizing how his baby bird, the very same child he swore to protect, trudges the same path as him, carries the same burden on their back while pretending like everything's okay.

it destroys him, inside-out, how he's the oldest, the one supposed to guide the people around him, the one who buries all the pent-up anger, the turmoil at carrying the burden of all the terrible things that happened to him, turning it into motivation— yet ultimately failing to guide his very own sibling.

the one he introduced to the manor, the one he came to call his baby bird on the very same day.

i think about that a lot, a moment where he'll suddenly barge into your room, whether it would be before you'd be before you'd be kidnapped or not, and just... hugging you, burying his head on your shoulders while his hands just encapsulate your entire body. you don't know how or why he found you, don't know why he's shivering, why he's muttering sorry's and unbidden promises, desperate callings to your name like he just can't believe you're still alive, your shoulders damp with tears and dick just refusing to let go of you. i think about it a lot, how in the case of sexual trauma, you'd be dick's ultimate failure, a person he failed to protect from the very same thing that destroyed him. and yet he couldn't even bond it over with you, because you're so... so guarded and so broken that even if you and dick now share just one similarity, you still refuse his comfort, his promises that never again will you handle it alone.

it's not impossible that the reader would be hypersexual whilst still sporting insecurities. i have my own bodily issues too that i'm coping with; i typically emulate that onto the reader. so if anything from above fascinates my readers, i'm willing to write it out for future chapters because i love tackling complex topics, it helps me make my brain bigger teehee.

[drdemonprince]

What do people do about dom guilt/shame after engaging with “hard” kinks? I just tried knife play for the first time last night and I had a really good time toying with my sub and just seeing this other side of him that really wants to get cut up. I’m worried I crossed some kind of invisible line and I’m evil now even though we both liked it.

We’re both inexperienced with engaging with “hard” kinks and we have some mutual friends and I’m unsure what they’d think of me if they knew. So that adds to the stress a little. At the same time though, I love that he trusted me enough to ask for that and the look he got in his eyes was incredible.

aftercare! Doms need aftercare! especially after doing darker or more serious scenes. One Dom that I know has his subs message him the day after a particularly intense scene to check in and reassure him that he is not a bad person, that they actively wanted everything that he did, and that they are doing well (or if they are struggling in some way, he wants them to tell him so that they can work through it and he can offer support). so much of the focus gets put on the needs of the sub in these matters, and on protecting the sub from harm, but it is equally important to make sure that the Dom is given space to self-regulate, reassurance, comfort, or whatever it else it is that they need to process this stuff.

you'll come to know a lot better with the more practice that you have. some people are really fired up energetically after a big Dommy see and what they really need is to eat a meal and take a walk and cool down a bit. other people like the conventional cuddling while watching a movie and eating sweet snacks form of aftercare that comes most readily to people's minds. but psychologically the impact of being a Dom is quite different from that of submitting, and so you may need things like seeing your sub exercise agency, having somebody else take care of you and making decisions, a lot of detailed feedback on how the scene went from the subs perspective, everybody to switch out of role and to act relatively normal and jokey, or some combination of these things.

for now, continue talking it through with your partner, ask them for support and care, and maybe journal a little bit on how you're feeling in the days after a scene. It is completely normal to experience a drop and to feel tired, disgusted, ashamed, we're like you're a bad person, and you can learn to anticipate this and work with it to minimize how much it bothers you and prevent a lot of larger meltdowns from occurring. but the only way we figure this stuff out is from learning! feeling a little bit bad or even a lot bad it's not a sign that you've screwed up here. it's just data. and so it's all very worthwhile to get.

[physicallyimprobable]

Okay so I have two points about this which are largely unrelated but I think both are important.

Point the First: This is true of almost every skill that you can acquire. You don't ever get good at cooking, you just get bad at more technical dishes. You never get good at guitar, you just get bad at more intricate songs. You never get good at art, you just get bad at more ambitious pieces. The nature of improving is such that in order to grow past your limit you must first be at your limit. This is called the intermediate value theorem. To improve is to struggle, and that is as true of math as it is of anything else.

Point the Second: My first point basically just says "this happens to everyone" which, while true, is not the most comforting message. When I'm actually experiencing these feelings, what makes me feel better is a certain metaphor that I do think applies uniquely well to mathematics:

Learning mathematics is climbing a mountain which is vertical in front of you and horizontal behind you.

Now, for the actual proper metaphor I need more setup (and I could talk at length about why I love this as a metaphor not only for learning math but more importantly for teaching it) but the basic idea is what's in the sentence. In mathematics, even more so than in other subjects, the stuff you learned last year seems trivial and the stuff you're learning this year seems impossible.

This is of course hyperbole, but it's a very real effect which has lead some of the most brilliant mathematicians I know to devalue and degrade their own skills. "I've only learned the easy stuff," they moan, "the hard stuff is beyond me!" Like no, girl, you're just assuming that the topography you see is actually what's there.

Keeping this metaphor in mind is what really makes me feel better about struggling in math, both in that it justifies the "now I'm bad at harder math" feeling (Of course I am! The mountain is so steep here! But I've climbed it before and can do it again!) and the "everything I've learned is trivial" feeling (Of course it is! The mountain is flat there, as a direct result of my efforts! This is something to be proud of!)

I'll cut this off here, but I'll leave you with some encouragement: Keep being bad at hard math. No one ever said flattening a mountain would be easy.

"wow ur so good at math" ah ha but you see. you dont ever get good at math. you stay bad, but now youre bad at harder math

[eggueggueo]

I think ive finally reached the period where my hand does not want to do what i want it to for drawing

I drew this like 3 times to try to get it roght and ended up just deleting pv all together ☠️ sorry purelily, you would have loved the angst

Its messy, but i dont want to open the file anymore lest i make her a 1/4th of a cookie(ily white lily)

Honestly i think the sketch was where i should have left it

I dont know why but pure vanilla is the most difficult character ive drawn in a long while. I just cant seem to figure out how i want to portray him,,, ill keep trying to draw him different ways until it feels comfortable (so sorry if the inconsistent artsyle becomes even more inconsistent☠️). I blame the bangs

[prettyboykatsuki]

ari what is every li’s fav position <3

i feel underqualified to answer this post but i will do my best since u ask lovely anon

sylus: im not a sylus girlie so don't hold me accountable if this feels wrong but i think he enjoys doing it like. against a wall while facing you. i don't think he likes fucking in a position where your face is even mildly obscured so he needs to be looking at you. he can't cum if he doesn't see you blissed out in pleasure first i dont think. just missionary doesn't feel right to me either. though spooning i can see... like front facing on your side. anyway

so i think doing it against a wall / standing is his favorite. when he does eventually get to fucking you he's strong enough to hold you up. he's ripped and some of your weight is against the wall so he holds you up like that and fucks you from underneath. he can hold you up like that for a long time too - usually until you beg him to fuck you more shallowly because you feel him so deep its starting to make your head spin. he's sweet and merciful and lets you down with a kiss. i think he probably opts to always finish in bed. i think sylus is down for everything but it absolutely has to end in extremely loving sex or he'll get kind of in his head. thats the vibe to me

caleb: prone bone no contest i dont care!!! its prone bone specifically too because he enjoys the closeness and how suffocating it is. caleb habitually fucks you in a way that leaves you both entirely exhausted and so absolutely unwilling to put in any effort. he likes prone bone because it's easy on you and it feels really comfortable for him to press his weight on you. he doesn't mind not seeing your face to the same extent but he does absolutely mind not being as close to you as humanly possible

so big prone bone fan. loves being able to have your bodies pressed together, slick with sweat - an arm wrapped around your neck so you can comfortably drool into his bicep as he focuses his all of his energy to fuck you while you lay there pinned under his weight. likes the feeling of crushing you and keeping you, the way your legs kick up and you let out a shaky cry because he's hitting you so deep. he would never tell you not to run from it bc he isn't into taunting you, but he does adore making you take it yk. likes making you feel good. usually puts a pillow between your thighs so you can rub your clit against something too. so thoughtful.

zayne: you already know its missionary. call it boring or call it cliche but it's doing to do it for him every single time. the eye contact most of all, the feeling of your legs around his waist. all of these things get to him indescribably and he simply loves nothing the same. he's also really into the proximity he has with your neck, shoulders and clavicle. that whole area of your body does something really weird to his brain.

however.... big believer in covert freak zayne so missionary with a lot of closeness is where he starts but the closer he gets to cumming the more he loses himself in it. it makes his strokes much more pointed when he gets like that. pulls your legs up until he's really locked into you and gives you the most aggravatingly deep, slow, measured strokes you've ever received in your life. you can feel the way he's deliberately stroking against your gspot (his dick is . perfectly angled for this) - and you're pressed so close your clit is rubbing on his pelvis and the friction drives you completely insane. it feels like he's bullying your pussy with how exact he's being. he's also insanely verbal. he really loves to talk you through it (silent poem card... u will aways be famous)

xavier: the bridge position. i don't know how to describe this pose so if you dont know . a link for u lol but his favorite position is basically him fucking you while you're doing bridges and he's standing on his knees between your legs. most of your weight is resting on your shoulders while your feet are flat. xavier holds you up to make it easier on you

xavier is a freak. like. well and truly. so i really dont think he's as picky about positions. that being said i do think this is his absolute favorite though it requires the most active participation. it reaches so, so deep from that angle and it hits a spot you could never hit any other way. it's a little hard to keep yourself upright but xavier is holding you right in place. the way he fucks you like this is merciless. his specific reason for liking it is because of the access it gives him to your clit. he likes seeing it slick and swollen, likes rubbing his thumb against it until you're crying and your thighs are shaking. trying not to thrash or drop back down because he'll just pick you back up like it's nothing and keep going.

rafayel: in a chair with you sitting in his lap, facing away from him. don't know if there's a name for this one. i thought about his i think the longest which is why it's at the bottom but i think this ends up winning for a lot of reasons. the main one being he really likes having his chin resting on your shoulder and getting that specific view from downwards at your body. rafayel is very into getting to admire your body.

rafayel likes being close to you but he's also into novelty. sitting in a chair with you in your lap gives him two things that he enjoys the most when having sex with you. the feeling of your back to his chest, his chin on your shoulder - skin to skin with a nice view of yur body. but even more than that, he likes the access his hands have to every part of you. grinding yourself on his cock to your hearts content and being able to really feel you up. squeezing your chest, planing his hands down your sides, toying with your clit. feeling the way your pussy tightens up when he gets it right. he's an artist and prone to being tactile. he wants to experience as much of you as he possibly can and i think fucking you like that is the best way. loves telling you how good all of you feels. he's also kind of clingy so simply being able to wrap his arms around your waist and press his cheek to your shoulder... yeah. loves when you finally cum on his cock and you throw yourself against him trying to anchor yourself bc he can't pull out easily like that. yeah

uhm this was long. i tried to pick some more interesting positions. idk

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

why praising someone’s fic while at the same time tearing down other writers’ fics may not be the positive comment you think it is

first of all, I feel like I should be bringing this up because I’ve gotten comments where people praise my works (which I appreciate) while in those same comments they later say what they dislike about other writers’ fanfics, in a rather harsh manner, and while I know my commenters probably don’t have any ill intentions towards me, and while they never actually name the writers whose works they don’t like, I still don’t agree with and I certainly don’t condone the way they trash talk other writers’ fanfics either. so I think I should just bring this up, not to attack or target anyone specifically, but to hopefully make general readers see why comments like these are… not actually helpful to anybody.

before we begin, I also like to humbly point out that comments I’m talking about aren’t “oh it’s so hard to find a fic this good” or “your work is better than most of the fics I’ve read” because personally I think comments like these are harmless, not because I think my fic is “that good”, not because I think my work is “better than others”, but because no other writers were insulted and if my readers say they prefer my work — it’s all personal preference — then I’m honored, and the last thing I wanna be is a Comment Police, but I’ve unfortunately seen a lot of comments, especially lately, where other writers were rudely insulted in the name of praising the writer whose work is being commented on. I’m not gonna provide screenshots because I’m not gonna put a target on anybody’s back, but here’s to give an example of what I’m talking about,

“I like your work so much. It’s so hard to find a fic this good when most of the (insert character’s name) fics I’ve read are so bad and so out of character. I hate when some writers write (insert character’s name) as some sort of (x) and (insert another character’s name) as some (x), I think it’s so out of characters and so cringe that it physically makes me want to throw my laptop away. It feels like reading a garbage written by a bunch of five year-old kids or something. I wish I could set those trash on fire. Your work is not like those shitty fics though and it’s amazing to finally see a good fic.”

this is the kind of comments I’m talking about. because for me, personally, I don’t actually feel good receiving a comment like this, even though the commenter praises me and never actually mentions other writers, whose works they dislike, by names.

and again, the last thing I ever wanna be is a Comment Police, because I usually appreciate every comment I got, no matter if it’s just a heart emoji or a simple sentence like “I liked this”, I love and appreciate them all. but here we go;

WHY INSULTING OTHER WRITERS IN THE NAME OF PRAISING A WRITER WHOSE WORK YOU COMMENT ON IS NOT A POSITIVE COMMENT

comment like this can put a harmful pressure on the writer whom you praised and make them think that they now have to be extra careful to make sure their work is “good enough to please you”, otherwise they might get torn to shreds too. and instead of writing for themself for fun, which should be the most important thing about writing fanfics, they now feel like they have to write because they have to be good enough to earn their readers’ approval. and that just sucks out all the joy of doing something that was supposed to be a hobby, something writers do out of love and passion and not because they were pressured into doing, not because they were pressured into “being good enough and staying good enough”.

“if you’re this comfortable insulting other writers under my work, how can I know you’re not insulting me and my work under someone else’s comments section?” is a valid thought the writer you praised may have, even if they were too polite to tell you that.

“I hate when some writers write (insert character’s name) as some sort of (x) and (insert another character’s name) as some (x), I think it’s so out of characters and so cringe that it physically makes me want to throw my phone away.” how do you know the writer you praised hasn’t already written something like this in their drafts? how do you know they don’t plan on writing something that you deem “cringe and out of character”? it may not be your intention, but your comment certainly can be read as a subtle “hey, don’t you dare write something like this because I don’t like it!!!! I better not see it from you!!!” I shouldn’t have to tell you how entitled this is.

“this is so out of character” if a writer wants to write their favorite character like this, they can. why? because they write whatever they want and they write for themself, not for you.

fanfiction is not — and never will be — your average novel you see while visiting a bookstore, buy it with your money and bitch about it when it turns out the book is not to your liking. because fanfiction is free. fanfic writers write for themselves and for fun. fanfic writers write whatever they wanna write, because they themselves are their own primary audiences. not you. they’re only kind enough to share with you their works. for free. if you dislike a fic, keep that to yourself and move on to something you do like. don’t be entitled by insulting something you got for free, something that wasn’t even made for you at all.

you obviously can dislike a fic. of course, it’s your opinion. I mean I won’t say I like every fic I’ve ever read, but the thing about disliking a fic is that you can just exit said fic, forget about it and move on to something else without feeling the need to insult the work or the writer, be it directly or indirectly, because, again, fanfiction is not a movie you watch on Netflix or a book you bought with your money. fanfiction is an art, a hobby and a passion created by an artist for the artist themself.

a reminder that comments are public for everyone to see, not just the writer you praise. so while you didn’t mention any other writers whom you insulted by names, there’s always a chance of innocent writers finding your comment and thinking the part where you insult other writers’ works is about their works. and that can very negatively affect them too.

fanfiction doesn’t have to be “good enough for you, random reader”. fanfiction just has to bring the writers joy. and that’s what make a fic good enough.

if you really enjoy someone’s work, tell them that you enjoy their work, tell them what you like about their work. don’t turn their comments section into your own space where you can vent and trash talk other writers, because you are bringing that negativity to the writer whose work you said you enjoyed. and I can only speak for myself but, as a writer, I don’t enjoy seeing my comments section turn into a negative and unkind space where my fellow writers are being insulted.