#like i dont want them to be too intrusive. but i want them to have character!

[rigormortisangel]

i hate PTSD every time an adult is mildly nice to me i start getting paranoid wondering when theyre gonna try to use it to fuck me

[itz-pandora]

Crazy how most of my intrusive thoughts come from the want to be wanted

[kindaorangey]

unfortunately i am still an introvert after all this time so even if i have a really gratifying and positive interaction with someone outside of my comfort zone i will feel the need to weep afterwards from the stress of it all

[ajdrawshq]

i can almost guarantee ive said it before but. he would thrive in a zero escape game

[caffeinatedopossum]

I think many people who refer to intrusive thoughts incorrectly as being like "oo I dyed my hair! My intrusive thoughts won today teehee" are actually thinking of *impulsive thoughts* which, while not always normal, are still distinct from intrusive thoughts

[liquidstar]

I'm working on my next oc set rn (as always) and this one is going to be the first, like, trinary guild to have more than 8 characters on account of twins sharing a spot lol

[scarletiswailing347]

so the unfortunate thing about me is that, when it comes to the media i consume, i tend to have one 'anchor' (very rarely two) to keep me interested

this is necesary cause i have an incredibly hard time being interested in things in general so i have to purposefully spend my focus on one thing so that i can keep being interested in it cause otherwise i just kinda feel meh about the thing, i mean ill still watch and enjoy it but i wont be as interested as id like to be and may even drop it eventually after struggling to keep interacting with it (this is unfortunately what happened with empires, x-life, yogscast, and the lsmp seasons without mumbo in it)

if i ever drop that anchor whether purposefully or not then i lose interest in everything that ive ever connected to its rope -- i could still enjoy them sure but then at that point theyll just be like every other filler content in my life, like music when im washing the dishes

for hc its mumbo, for dsmp and smplive it was schlatt, for the scrunkly squad its boosfer and baablu

for lifesteal its zam

idk what happened behind the scenes but ill be honest its not looking good and theres a possibility i might have to drop him :/

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[krockat]

hey. Hey. person reading this right now. if you already feel bad about this, or are aware of this, and you for example have intrusive thoughts about dirt and stuff - don't feel so bad about this.

and i think the implication that 'everyone should feel after touching any public surface like they've touched dog poo'

and by extension that that should feel poison and by perhaps extension even perhaps Should make you feel dread, and perhaps even feel like a bad or shameful person for it?

i think, we should probably walk that back a little. i think it easily comes across as that, and could be triggering people's anxieties about this, in an unfair way.

absolutely - cleaning your hands good and keeping good hygiene is good, but the feeling bad about it part? you do not need to feel bad or anxious or dread about it during or about it.

you also do not have to Make yourself feel so bad about it.

and if you read this and realize maybe you haven't taken your hand hygiene seriously enough, you can always change and improve.

and that it will be okay. change, good change, can always start today. there are also many good handwashing tutorials that came into (re) creation after covid hit 2020.

also, for context - because I do not mean to be rude to op or previous commenter, i am specifically writing this as a person who has intrusive thoughts and dirt phobia, but am recovering,

and I just feel like this post has great points and perspectives that I don't often see shared - that I want to reblog! and also wanted to talk about that perhaps moral ocd/dirt ocd triggery thing, and not let that pass without that commentary.

and that also as a person with intrusive thoughts and dirt phobia, that YES oh my gosh THANK you,

it really is so scary sometimes and isolating how people do not even consider these things with hygiene, and I've also talked to people about it but they still don't see the point!

i know my fears and concerns about dirt are not Just irrational - and I feel like people often dismiss my knowledge about dirt and hygiene Because I have these diagnoses.

And i Guess it's easy to ignore my concerns and pleas if they can dismiss me because of them.

Washing my hands as I come home?? a given. also washing my hands before I touch my cat!

cats can also get covid (last I heard, that was mid early hit of the pandemic hitting though, science might have found more) and so like i do Not want to mess around - not for me Or for him!

also I've known so many people who don't wash their hands after using the bathroom.

tw for below: REALLY nasty hand hygiene

i had a parent (i disowned them) that used to sometimes skip out on washing his hands after he shat.

like I could hear him shitting and could also hear him flushing, not turning on the washbin, and immediately exiting the bathroom.

i tried to tell the rest of my family members and others but they just didn't believe me.

also if you touch your genitals (including dicks) or underwear in the bathroom, or touch the toilet, or the toilet roll that has been used, You should wash your hands! It's Not Cleannn

I Do Not get people who do not get that. at all.

in the vein of "how do you stay safe from getting sick", I wanna say that something I always noticed as a kid was that a lot of the time when I went to people's houses and we would leave at some point to the mall or the park or something and then come back home…I don't remember any of them washing their hands when we got back inside. they'd just immediately lead me back to their room or the living room or something, and then I'd feel incredibly self-conscious about going to their bathroom to wash my own hands. and I always thought it was absolutely bizarre because the way I was raised, the first thing you do when you come back home after taking your shoes and jacket off is go wash your hands. it's common sense. why on planet earth would you not wash your hands. you've just been touching a hundred public surfaces that could have anything on them and you think as soon as you set foot in your own house all the germs you've picked up just evaporate? it's absolutely insane to me to know that so many people don't bother washing their hands. WASH YOUR HANDS.

[evangelistofmurder]

How do you deal with paranoia?? /gq

Just read the tags,,

[airprime7]

i want to throw up

[mirroringshards]

cute bpd things!!

paranoia

*small inconvenience* BREAK UP BREAK UP BREAK UP BREAK UP

yeah im fine lol look at this meme :D

paranoia

mood depending on them

every text hurts or feels way too good

intrusive thought yeouch okay ouch thats another one yeOOUCH

the 50000+ articles on how youre abusive

paranoia

fp is bad for me but its ok i love them<3

"if i hurt someone its gonna be myself"

becoming completely obsessed with someone the moment they give you the slightest attention

never being able to cut anyone off ever. immediately go running back

cry because theyre talking to someone that IS NOT ME

oh my fp isnt here. okay. oh im dissociating okay i dont have any purpose to continue living without them okay my life literally revolves around them i want to die where are they are they safe i dont know what to do with myself

"just leave. everyone does anyways"

5 minutes later theyre the worst person ever

*looking for an identity* hmmm, where could it be?

dependent on fp like theyre a parental figure you never had

paranoia

[murderofravens]

VIOLATE

pairing: salesman x fem reader.

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT | RAPE/NONCON. daddy issues. age gap. reader had an abusive dad. physical abuse. degradation. forced blowjob. hitting, slapping, you know the drill. sub!reader. dom!salesman. blood. plot with porn. dont like? dont read. its that easy.

summary: you steal from the wrong man and face the consequences.

continuation to THIEF

MASTERLIST

most girls have some sort of fantasy in their head when it comes to their virginity. a blueprint of sorts— about what kind of man they'd like to lose it to, of how gentle he'd be with them. whether it would be planned and patient or spontaneous after a magical date.

you were one of those girls. so far, you'd managed to stay away from men, not just because none of them fit the standard you created in your head— but also because the idea of being with a man repulsed you. the first man in your life— your father, had broken your heart. so you protected yourself, put a lock on engaging in sexual desires for that special someone you could wholeheartedly give yourself to. you were scared that most men you encounter would be like your father— cold. violent. now, you understand that you were wrong.

the man in front of you was so much worse.

you dont get to wallow in your self pity for long. he hovers over you like a god— his presence alone was suffocating. the fact that his massive hand is currently tugging your head back doesn't help; your scalp stings and fresh tears well in the corner of your eyes. the sight makes him groan. his free hand holds onto his cock— gently stroking back and forth. it's a little darker than the rest of him— tip flushed and some precum gleaming on the top. it's clear all this fighting has been foreplay for him. he's getting off to your misery. his dark eyes flicker over your face, and as you try to pull your head back again, he forces the tip against your mouth; letting the stickiness spread over your lips.

"open up." his voice is breathy, hand tugging your hair back again. you wince. "don't make me ask again."

you shake your head, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as you glare at him with all the resentment your eyes can muster. your teeth grit together as you clamp your mouth shut. he pauses and settles you with a bored gaze, and before you can realize what's happening, his hand is pulling back and slapping you across the face again.

you fall sideways onto the couch with another sob. you can taste the blood in your mouth, and you cough. he's quick to yank you back up, chuckling slightly when the blood sputters out of your mouth and down your chin. he smears his cock against the dark fluid, before settling you with another warning glare.

"did you act this stubborn with your father too?" he pouts, voice taunting, "no wonder he hit you. you never seem to listen on the first try."

you feel livid, shaking with rage as he mocks you. you open your mouth to answer him, and he takes that opportunity to pry your jaw open with his thumb. he groans as he forces his cock past your mouth, slowly at first before pushing to the hilt, till your nose presses against the light patch of hair at the base. you barely get the time to protest before he's rolling his hips slightly, getting used to the wet cavern of your mouth. the thickness and the intrusion in your throat makes you choke and sputter incoherently around his cock, eyes watering again. your hands hold onto his thighs for support. maybe you can bite his dick right off, maybe—

"and if you bite me," he warns with a little chuckle, as if he read your mind, "i will slit your throat open and fuck it."

you shudder. you know he means it too— you can see the crazed look in his eyes as he cups your head with both hands. you don't want to take any chances. you can barely think when he pulls his hips back and thrusts again, eliciting a choked gargle out of you.

"fuck—" he grunts lowly, using your head as leverage as his thrusts slowly grow faster. your body trembles violently, the lack of oxygen making your head feel faint. "that's it— stay like that."

it's as if he's releasing all his pent up frustration on your little throat— his head thrown back, adams apple bobbing up and down as his thrusts get harder, faster. your choking seems to only spur him on, his hold on you getting tighter as you squirm on the couch, trying to pull back. he's not having it.

he pulls out momentarily and you get only a few seconds to breathe before he's grabbing you by the ear and dragging you off the couch. you shriek throatily and claw at his hand as he pulls you towards the wall and cages you in. your head presses against the concrete as he enters your mouth again, "stop that—" he grunts at your wiggling, pulling your head back and slamming it against the wall. you choke on a sob, feeling lightheaded. "the faster— ah— you make me cum the easier i'll make this for you."

his thrusts are like him— to the point, aggressive and inconsiderate. his hips snap forward almost violently as you claw at his thighs, leaving a few scratches. it makes him moan. your bloodshot eyes glare up at him as you choke around his length, his balls sloppily slapping against your chin. he doesn't make a lot of noise, but when he does it comes from the back of his throat. your head repeatedly slams against the wall as he fucks your face, and between his grunts he lets out another breathless chuckle.

laughing at your suffering.

"i'm getting close," his hand comes up and he pinches your nose between two fingers. you begin to writhe at the sudden cutoff of oxygen, eyes widening, "ah ah- take it like a good slut."

your vision gets blurry, head pounding and throat gurgling as he throws his head back and cums with a loud moan. you're sure you can feel it fill your stomach. it's bitter and you can feel the stickiness of it on the roof of your mouth, on the back of your tongue. his thrusts falter, hips stuttering as his chest heaves, few strands of his well kept hair falling across his forehead. you choke and cough as he pulls out, and stuffs his softening cock back inside his pants like he didn't just violate you.

you gag slightly as you taste the saltiness of his cum mixed with the metallic taste of your blood, and you cough some of it out. you greedily take in as much air as you can, eyes wide and face heated. he tosses you around like a ragdoll. your body is limp as you slump against the wall, shuddering. his foot raises, the tip of his shiny dress shoes pressing against your clothed crotch. his voice is thoughtful, contemplative. like he's talking about the weather. "should i pop your cherry?"

you look up at him, shocked. you can barely see him through your tears. "what?"

with a smirk, he grabs your arm and yanks you forward till your face crashes into his thigh. in your panic stricken haze, you grab onto his leg, clinging to him, desperate for any ounce of sympathy or comfort he can provide.

he has nothing to offer.

his hand comes down to run through your hair, like you're a dog. you lean into the touch, hope that you being responsive would sway any thoughts of him violating you further. he grabs your jaw, making your cheeks squish in his hold. he thinks you look utterly adorable this way. you whimper.

"please don't."

you break down into sobs again. you hate crying. you hate it more so because it makes you appear weak in front of the other person. they never seem to understand that you're crying out of rage, not sadness.

he sighs before shoving you off him. you slouch on the floor and he kneels before you, face indifferent. he gently brushes your hair away from your face, and you slap his hand away.

he's toying with you. playing with your fear. manipulating your emotions as he deems fit and he's revelling in it.

"you—" you pant, choking on another sob, before a crazed chuckle leaves you. full of disbelief, anger, hurt. "you sick fuck—"

"let's not use crude language." he remarks dryly, eyes crinkling as he puts on a smile. the same smile you thought to be charming at first glance. now it just looks empty and manipulative. he pulls out a handkerchief, wipes the sweat glistening on your forehead. "someone really ought to teach you how to talk to your elders."

"you raped me," you snap back, voice cracking as you shoot daggers at him through your glare. you want to lunge at him, to pull out his eyeballs and rip him apart. he grabs your chin, stares into your eyes with an intensity that makes you cower into yourself.

"i taught you a lesson," he shoots back calmly, expression serious. as if he truly believed what he said. "i gave you a glimpse of what could happen if you kept up with your reckless behaviour. surely you don't think you can always get away with stealing from men or talking back to them?"

you snatch your face away and look at the floor again, eyes stony and vacant. you were a fool to think you were made for this life. that you could've lived without a proper roof over your head, the financial security that your abusive father could provide you. but you weren't willing to go back.

not after everything you endured to leave.

your lips wobble. you try to compose yourself, force your face to look cold as you glare at him again.

"i'll go to the police." you take another sharp breath. you try to sound brave, you really do, but the slight waiver of your voice gives you away. "i'll tell them everything. i'll post it on social media. they'll find you and you'll be in jail by—"

you stop talking, merely staring at him as he smiles at you. it's a smile you recognise— one of those smiles that adults like to give to children, as if to say 'aw, you're so silly.' as if you're a naive child who is mindlessly babbling about something you don't know. as if he's the smartest person in the world. you know this smile because your father has aimed it at you multiple times.

"what are you smiling at?!" you snap, voice hoarse. he shakes his head almost fondly, his thumb caressing your bottom lip— spreading the drying blood around your chin.

"it amuses me," he starts, snorting again, "how you still believe in humanity after what i just did to you."

you're frozen as you stare at him, breathing ragged. he stares at your lips, plays with the blood there before pulling his hand back and licking the crimson fluid off his thumb. he tilts his head to the side, eyes coldly boring into yours.

"you want to know how men really are?" he quirks an eyebrow, unimpressed, "they will find out where you live and they'll come have their own fun with you."

"some time will pass and you'll eventually start selling your body to perverted old men on the street." his voice takes that business-like tone again. he stands up, adjusts his suit jacket as he looks around the apartment. "weak little girls like you can't handle that kind of lifestyle."

he bends down and picks up his stolen wallet off the floor. he opens it, pulls out that card you saw before. the one with the weird shapes on it. he holds it out towards you, "here's an opportunity. you can call the number on this and participate in some games that will get you money—" he gestures towards the cash on the floor- your prize from playing ddakji. "— or you can keep living like this and encounter more horrible men like me who won't be as gentle with you as i was."

the last line makes you snort bitterly. right. gentle. his bruises would last for days, the trauma a lifetime. if this is his idea of gentle, you would never want to know what his 'rough' entails. his eye twitches and he smiles back, before dropping the card on your lap.

you stay on the floor, frozen, the reality of what just happened to you settling in. you can keep living like this— pickpocketing men, making ends meet with stolen change, getting raped, and living in this clusterfuck of an apartment just to avoid your father; or you can go wherever all that money came from. his voice sounds faraway when he speaks again.

"i'm trusting you to make the right choice."

he gathers his briefcase, sends one more glance your way before exiting the apartment like he was never there in the first place.

A/N: im not very good with smut, but i tried. i really wanted to write just porn but i physically cant bring myself to do that without adding lots of plot and psychological elements and a backstory. otherwise it feels soulless to me. i hope i didnt bore you. for anyone who read this, thank you. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated. maybe i'll write about inho soon too.

tags for people who commented for a part 2: @rafesbunniebby @screaming-potato @nerdybarbariancupcake @deadddoll

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

a member finding your nudes - 96 line

95 line, 96 line, 97 line, maknae line

wc: 1818

masterlist

jun -

jun was extremely close to all seventeen members, considering them all basically his blood brothers. although he felt this special connection to all of them, he couldnt help but feel a little extra close to minghao, sharing a language with him and being able to speak to him as freely as possible. this special sense of closeness between them allowed jun to come to minghao for advice whenever he wanted to edit a special vlog for carats, trusting his artistic advice more than anyone else.

as the two sat next to one another and fiddled with jun's phone, a notification from you arrived. on pure accident, minghao's fingers tapped the top of the screen just as the notification arrived, causing the text bubble to open up in the imessage app. unfortunately for jun, this was not one of the usual light-hearted and sweet messages you'd usually send him while he was away at the company.

no, this was a picture of you, fully nude, with a text attached asking him to hurry home and take care of you.

minghao was not an easy man to fluster, but jun had now come to find out that if he ever wanted to make the younger blush, your nude body would do just fine to get the job done. although embarrassed at the accidental intrusion, jun couldnt help but feel a sense of pride at minghao's reaction, knowing that his pretty girlfriend not only had such an effect on himself, but seemingly even on the stoic man sitting by his side.

this pride was short-lived, however, as the bashfulness grew in him, heating up at both the implications of your message and at the awkward conversation that would now follow between him and his friend.

"i- sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to say. he gently took the phone from his hands and put it in his back pocket, "i-"

"dont say anything. i'm .. i'm just gonna go," replied hao in a strained voice, hurriedly exiting the room and wondering how he would ever make eye contact with jun's pretty girl from now on.

soonyoung -

many thought that soonyoung was a little air-headed at times. it wasnt that he was dumb, no, he was actually quite smart, but he occasionally tended to let his actions come before allowing himself a chance to think.

this was one of those many instances.

due to some delays at the venue in which seventeen was currently promoting their new comeback at, the thirteen members were asked to wait in the changing/waiting room as the venue's staff figured out the issues preventing them from continuing the show as usual.

sitting between seokmin and seungkwan, soonyoung decided this might be the best time to take some pictures, considering that he was dressed up and had his hair and makeup all done. better now than after performing, when he would be all sweaty and disheveled, right? he, however, did not have his usual instagram phone on him, so he opted to use his personal one for the photos, reasoning that he could just send them to himself later.

he signaled for dokyeom's help, handing him his phone and finding a place to do his classic leaned back, hand in pocket pose, showing off his pretty outfit. after a few shots, both members sat back down and soonyoung looked at the photos, wondering which ones carats would like best. as he swiped through the dozens of new shots, he leaned back and allowed seungkwan and dokyeom to look at the images and even comment on which were best.

having completely forgotten that this was his personal phone, hoshi made the grave mistake of swiping one too many times, landing himself on a pretty picture you had just sent him the previous night. if it had been a regular picture, it wouldve simply earned an 'aw' from seungkwan and dokyeom, and maybe even an 'aigoo' from jeoghan who was now standing behind the couch looking over his shoulder. this picture, however, was not your average picture. this image showcased you laying on your side, boobs pressed together under the thin sheer fabric of baby blue lingerie that gave the perfect view of your nipples through the fabric.

okay, it couldve been worse. it couldve been an entirely nude pic, but despite the level of explicitness of the picture, soonyoung immediately panicked. in a frantic state, he attempted to exit out of the image, only to accidentally open up the photos app, where the miniatures of the many other nudes you had sent him that night stared back at him and his group mates. as a last desperate resort, soonyoung decided to just switch his phone off and flip it around just for good measure.

across the room, mingyu stared in curiosity at the scene, seeing four of his group mates with widened eyes. jeonghan held a shocked, but satisfied smirk, while seungkwan looked as scandalized as ever. hoshi and dokyeom shared a similar pale look as if theyd seen a ghost, making mingyu wonder what theyd just seen.

hoshi had never felt more flustered in his life (and that was saying something), fearing the stern scolding he would receive from seungcheol and from you for being careless enough to use his personal phone and accidentally exposing his girlfriend to his unsuspecting members.

wonwoo -

wonwoo always saw chan as a little brother. someone who could do no wrong in his eyes. which is why he trusted him with basically everything. he mightve been a few years younger, but wonwoo always thought of him as responsible and respected him as much as he would someone his age, trusting him with his belongings, even.

having a short dance break together in the most recent comeback, chan and wonwoo decided to arrive to practice earlier in order to get in tune with each other and not take up any designated rehearsal time for the group as a whole. a little over an hour had already gone by, leaving both members sweaty and in need of a break. while wonwoo dabbed away his sweat, chan sat down for a bit, going on his phone. that was when wonwoo's phone started to chime, short breaks between each vibration of the phone, signaling multiple messages.

"check that for me, will you?", said wonwoo absentmindedly, walking in the other direction to retrieve a water bottle from nearby.

chan followed his senior's orders without thinking too much of it, unlocking his phone and swiping up. he assumed itd be one of the other members or maybe wonwoo's dad checking in. what he didnt expect, however, was a row of messages from wonwoo's girlfriend, with a pretty ... explicit picture attached to it.

nonuuuu

you left without saying goodbye :((

shouldve waken me up, i couldve given u a little something ;)

*two picture attachments*

im aching for u :((( gonna miss u all day now :c'

the pictures detailed almost the entirety of your naked body, pretty tits being groped by your hands while you wore soft pink (was that silk ..?) panties. despite not wanting to disrespect wonwoo or his girlfriend, chan gulped, unable to take his eyes away from the messages.

".. chan? chan!"

chan's attention finally diverted from the small screen in his hands.

"who is it?"

"oh, i ... its just. uh, its your girlfriend," he stutters, extending wonwoo's phone out to him, fearing for his reaction.

wonwoo finally took a look at his messages, eyes widening, instantly putting it away as if it had burned him, "oh. just .. ignore that. it's not .. uhh, okay, anyways. we should get back to practicing," wonwoo tried to salvage the awkward situation without further embarrassing chan or his girlfriend or himself.

the two stood there awkwardly trying to ignore the elephant in the room (and the arousal you had inadvertently caused the two of them), thanking god at the timing of the rest of the members who were now finally walking in to join them.

"what's up," said an unsuspecting mingyu as he walked towards them, ready to rehearse.

jihoon -

soonyoung had the tendency of dropping by jihoon's studio unannounced pretty often. many of those times would be while jihoon himself was away. why jihoon gave hoshi the passcode to his studio, he didnt know, but it was now all said and done and there wasnt much he could do about it anymore. dont get him wrong, he enjoyed having his friend visit, but he also desired some alone time while working.

today was one of the many instances in which jihoon had to step out, leaving his studio locked, not thinking anyone would walk in in his absence. soonyoung, however, had different plans. as per usual, whenever the day seemed to slow down for him, soonyoung would waltz into woozi's universe factory and hang out while he watched him work, with today being one of those days.

he didnt pay much mind to jihoon's absence as he laid back on the couch and went on his phone while waiting for his friend's return. he stayed like this for a few minutes until he heard the chime of jihoon's phone on his desk. he ignored it, not being too interested by it. then the chime repeated. once. twice. three times. four, five, over the next few minutes. okay, now that caught his attention. being so close to jihoon, soonyoung didnt consider this snooping, reasoning that this was his best friend. what could there possibly be on his phone that he couldnt check simply out of sheer curiosity? thats when he made his first mistake.

he picked up his phone, tapping in jihoon's password and swiped up on the messages without thinking much of it. that's when he made his second mistake. his eyes widened like saucers at the messages in front of him, even more so at the image attached to it. what he was now seeing was a picture of you, shirtless and pushing your tits up while making a kissy face at the camera.

jihoonieeee

are u still at the studio ??'

*image attachment*

dont u wanna come see me? ill make it worth ur while <3'

hoshi made his third mistake of the day when he unconsciously decided to keep his eyes glued to the phone, failing to notice the arrival of his friend, who immediately took note of his phone in the hands of someone who wasnt its owner.

"soonyoung what the hell are you- HUH?", jihoon didnt even have a chance to finish his sentence before interrupting himself upon taking a look at what seemingly had his senior in a trance. "GIVE ME THAT! what are you doing?! get out!" he hissed as he physically pushed his friend out of the room, locking it as he muttered in annoyance at his nosy friend.

still in a trance, hoshi found himself dumbfounded, standing alone in the hallway, now having a totally different perception of jihoon's pretty girlfriend.

a/n: not proofread!! will get to 97 and maknae line soon i promise T-T

[flametrashiraarchive]

YOUR DOUMA HEAD CANNONS WERE SO GOODDD you should write about him more ^_^

☺️ thank you!

I will never pass up the chance to write more about the murder pookie. Part one here!

NSFW under the cut.

CW for oral sex while sleeping

DOUMA HEADCANONS 2

Have I mentioned that this man is a menace?

One time he had you sit in his lap with your back to his chest while he was delivering a sermon.

His cock was inside you the entire time. And you can bet this fucker dragged the sermon out.

"Stay completely still. Nobody must suspect a thing. If you're a good pet, you'll be rewarded when they leave."

If his disciples noticed they didn't let on.

But he loved it. Couldn't stop grinning whenever your muscles desperately clenched and twitched around his cock.

Finally let you start riding when you were alone again, his elegant fingers and soft hands assisting you with orgasm after orgasm.

Singsongs your name when he wants attention and you're otherwise occupied. If you dont reply right away he gets whiny.

Many assume he's airheaded because of his playful nature. But Douma is incredibly cunning.

And he loves you because you recognize that in him.

"You're smart too, for a human."

Loves to talk about grand philosophies while you're fucked out and slipping into sleep. Nudges you awake so he can keep talking to you.

Sends you out alone to buy flowers since the flower market is only open during the day. He trusts you to return to him. Knows you're just as smitten with him as he is with you. Loves the flowers you pick. Lets you braid them into his hair.

Loves to walk you through the city at night, a slender, gold chain around your neck, connected to an identical one around his wrist.

All symbolic of course, but oh so pretty.

Lets you paint his nails.

Gets away with literal murder because you find him adorable.

Extra snuggly and needy after the upper moon meeting. They were so cold to him 🥺

Leaves his little fangs sticking out against his bottom lip if you're in a grumpy mood.

Loves petting your hair and your skin. Will order the finest oils and bejeweled combs to preen his "soft, pretty little pet."

Buys you the prettiest clothes. Sits cross-legged on the floor and applauds you when you try them on for him.

The oral fixation on this guy...

He doesn't require sleep, so sometimes when you're asleep and he's bored, he likes to get between your knees and... wake you up 👀

Loves how you squirm and whimper in your sleep. You belong to him when conscious and in your dreams.

Tried masturbating after he figured out he could cum. Wasn't all that into it. Felt kinda lonely.

Experimented with jerking off in front of you while you pleasured yourself for him, which was a little more fun, but he only really cums when he's fucking you.

Enjoys seeing you wear his "pearls"

Loves to cook for you! And he's really good at it too. Will never share his recipes.

Has had intrusive thoughts about sharing you... especially with Muzan. The thought of his master coveting his beloved... *shivers*

Oh but he couldn't bear to see his favorite toy get broken.

He adores you far too much to let anything happen to you.

[seancekitsch]

Hello! Here’s the fic idea I commented earlier, sorry if I sent it the wrong place the first time 😅.

This is my first time asking but what if you did a fic where Lucifer gets startled by the reader (if you do that sorta thing) while he’s working on a duck or smth and his wings pop out and the reader (again, idk if you do that, maybe another character?) teasingly touches his wings and he gets really flustered because ✨sensitive wing trope✨ and whatever happens after that is purely up to interpretation and yeahhhh, that’s my fic idea! :3

hey dont worry! i know im prone to losing track of things i just wanted to make sure i didnt lose it :)

Curiosity has been killing you all day. It started with the chipper mood Lucifer had walked into his work shop with, and only increased when you started to hear the noise of tinkering tools. He’d cheerfully told you not to let anyone disturb him today, which, was a welcome change from the gloomy way he used to drag himself to this same workshop. With the way you’d have to drag him out to eat, the way you’d have to pretend you couldn’t hear him mumbling to himself through the door. It was easier for Lucifer if you pretended that you didn’t know about what he was going through, so you did just that, and he rewarded you with his loyalty and generosity, and dare you say it: his companionship.  Being his assistant for the past few years, you’d seen a change in him the more time he spent with his daughter. It was nice. This is the happiest you’ve seen him in a long time, and the curiosity is killing you. 

The sounds of a drill, the sounds of hammering, the sounds of clinking metal drift out from the door to where you’re sat, a plush lounger where you get to turn away any uninvited guests (thought there never are any). This isn’t the typical soundscape you hear when Lucifer has a new duck idea. You stop scrolling Sinstagram, throwing your phone onto the cushion as the nagging thought to check on him finally consumes you. 

You push open the door carefully, the sounds of tinkering growing louder. 

“Hello?” you ask, “Luce?���

No answer. Then you spot him, his coat haphazardly thrown to the side, working on the table near the window hunched over and in full focus.

“Hey?” you call again, your voice just loud enough to carry across the workshop space. 

Lucifer jerks up from the desk he’s hunched over, clearly having not heard your knocking before entering. He knocks his hip into the edge of it, jostling all of his tools, clanking together. Your calling out to him seems to start a chain reaction, one that ends with a carving tool hitting the ground and three sets of wings suddenly sprouting from already designated holes from your boss’ burgundy velvet waistcoat. 

Holy shit. You haven’t seen him like this since… well, extermination day. And sure, other demons have wings, but his are magnificent, in a way that even made you give pause to admire them amongst the bloodshed of that day. You shoulder slump, awestruck at the demon in front of you. Your feet seem to move of their own accord, crossing the space between you and your boss. 

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Lucifer’s shoulders sag, relaxing as he realizes its just you, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You shake your head, a smile spreading across your lips. 

“I should have been louder,” you offer, and step closer, admiring his wings still not retracted. Lucifer relaxes too, smiling at the welcome intrusion. 

“So what brings you into workshop today, huh?” He asks, and then falters, “Not that uh— not that I’m not happy you’re in here it’s just uh— you know, you don’t usually…”

“I got curious,” you answer, cutting off any rambling he’s going to do. Lucifer has been rambling a lot more often lately. So unsure of himself, it’s sweet. 

You reach out, fingertips brushing against the tips of crimson red feathers.

“Haven’t seen these in a while,” you muse, rubbing your thumb across the top of one wing. They’re softer than you expected them to be, rich luxe down that you’d expect of the worlds most expensive pillow. Your eyes follow them to where they lead back into his waistcoat, connecting to his back. What would his bare back look like? 

A groan interrupts your thoughts, and glancing to Lucifer’s face, his teeth are bared. Oh shit. What a fucking mistake. 

“I’m sorry, Sir! I hope I didn’t hurt you I didn’t-” you yank your hand back as if its been burned, fear spreading like ice in your veins that you’d irreconcilably fucked this up and maybe now you’re out of a job and you’d never be able to see him again, stuck finding work with the Vees or even worse. 

Lucifer inhales sharply, and then sighs. 

“No, no please don’t be sorry,” he reaches out for you, as if he’s scared too. His gloved hands cradle your hand, the one that dared to touch his wing. 

“You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, a sheepish smile spreading across his features, just alabaster cheeks growing red as he keeps talking, “My wings are, well, they’re… sensitive?”

His voice rises as if he’s questioning himself in his own explanation. It takes you a moment, searching the King of Hell’s face for an answer before it hits you, almost taking the wind out of your chest. Oh, you realize. That was not a groan of pain. Fuck, this is awkward. 

“Oh I’m,” you pause, are you sorry? “I’m sorry.”

Lucifer searches your face, his mouth falling into a frown. 

“No! Please, don’t be. Stop apologizing,” Luficer’s hands start pulling yours, beckoning you closer to him again. You comply, stepping back into his personal space. Lucifer places your hand back onto his wing, smiling again. 

“I liked it,” he tells you, smile starting to melt into a smirk. Your hand travels along the top of the wing, smoothing out any feathers out of their spot. Lucifer shudders as your hand moves, a sigh leaving his lips. 

Emboldened, you keep going, running your nails along them, down between feathers. 

Lucifer reacts… exquisitely. His hands shoot out to grip your hips, fingers digging into you. He starts panting, the blush growing across his skin. 

“Been a while since you’ve been touched like this, huh, Sir?” you ask, pushing your luck. Lucifer nods as he lets his forehead fall against your shoulder. He moans into the side of your neck as he wraps himself further around you. 

“What were you making?” you ask him, finally remembering what you even came in here for. Though, this seems better than the original reason; With you quickly feeling yourself go weak at the sound of the noices falling from Lucifer’s lips and the feeling of his hot breath fanning out along your neck. 

“Fuck,” he pants, “Gift for you.”

His hands start wandering, moving from your hips to your waist and back down, just short of coming around to cup your ass. You would let him if he did. 

“For little old me?” you tease him, though internally, you could scream. It touches deep inside of you that he’d think of you like that enough to make you something. 

“Mmm, of course,” he hums, nuzzling his face closer into your neck. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him as your nails rake through his wing, the two of you pressed together in desperate intimacy. 

Your breath hitches when his knee knocks between your own. 

“Th- thank you, Sir,” you whisper, your voice airy and far away. 

Lucifer chuckles against your skin, his grasp on you tightening. 

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he says, “I’ve got another gift for you if you want it.”

You don’t need to be a genius to read between the lines of what he means. Hell, now you see it. What a charmer. 

“Oh yeah?” you challenge him, your free hand coming up to touch the buttons of his waistcoat. Lucifer pulls back, his pupils blown wide as he looks at you like a prize to be won.

"Get on the table and I'll show you," he says.

And then it's like you can't move fast enough.