#like with the angels being grossed out by it even after living there for a long time

[earl-grey-love]

I have to say I do have a very specific immersion break when it comes to dating Barbs in game. I'm vegetarian and have been for 7+ years, and yet there's so many moments where Barbs either makes mc poultry dishes or shares them with him and every time I'm like wow I would NOT eat that.

[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to receive your transformation. Look under the cut to see how your choice goes.

Lycanthrope: You can feel your bones shifting, your soul becoming forever fluid. As the moonlight shines on you you realize you can shift, as easily as you could go from sitting to standing. You can feel your hands turn into paws, your mouth become long, your entire body feel so warm and comfy under a pelt of fur. And you can run, through the forests and streets, and you can see and hear and smell like you never had before. And then you can go back, or remain in-between. Yet even in human form it's always with you, like your other form can always be in there waiting, waiting to be let out. You look in the mirror and it's not just you, your human face is just one part of a larger whole now.

Angels blood: it feels painful at first. You cough up what you think it blood but it looks like static. Your eyes start to glow but then wings come out from the back of your head to cover them forever. More wings sprout from your back, they feel nice, strange to move, strange to have new joints and bones and muscles, yet so soft and delicate and sensitive. Your body slowly shifts, as you become slender yet muscular, and you become completely androgynous, your sex organs fall away and any holes to expell waste close up. You feel comfortable all the time, you don't need to eat or sleep, and can't feel pain or tired, you're so strong now, yet so delicate.

Cyborg: You feel yourself being cut open. They decided to take away your sensation of pain instead of making you unconscious, so you feel everything it's just not painful at all. You can feel them cut through bone, dismembering you peice by peice, limbs and organs being gone forever, the strange sensation of body parts suddenly going dark. And then it comes back, peice by peice you get put back together. And your new parts all feel so strange, cold hard metal and plastic, they all move and feel differently then what you're used to, but they all feel so right. When you finally get up everything is diffrent, and when you see yourself in the mirror you realize there's no going back, you'll never be human again, you're as much a machine as a person, yet you're yourself, you're even more yourself then before.

Vampire: When you were first bitten it didn't feel like much, the transformation was slow. You became more androgynous every day. Your skin lost its color until it was entirely grayscale. You lost weight, you couldn't eat, at first you got compliments from weird people but soon you just looked sick, as you could see bones through your skin. Eventually you basically went through puberty in reverse, until you were sexless, and your genitals shunk until there was nothing left. You hadn't eaten in so long, but food seemed gross to you. Soon your mouth began to shift, seeming wounded at first, and then healing, it looked human when closed save for a few lines around your cheeks and jaw, but when you opened it all the way it was a massive complex maw with many jaws and countless sharp fangs, taking up half your face when fully open. After not eating for so long you finally take a sip of blood, from a freind willing to let you try, your veins light up red for a few moments and you feel so good, it's like a mix between the best food in your mortal life, and the joys of an orgasm, and you feel satisfied like you never had before.

Fae: You slowly let the strange tall woman pet your head and you know you're hers. She giggles as she takes out an eye in her hand and puts it back in bloodlessly. She waves her hand over your arm as it turns to living plant mater, and then she tilts her head to see if it fits and turns it back. She smiles, knowing what she'll do. Slowly she starts work, taking away parts and putting back new ones like you're a building toy. You look and see as she tries new limbs, new faces, everything she can think of, your human form being nothing more then a base she can customize. As she painlessly pulls out your teeth and puts gems in their place, and takes off layers of skin to make way for a new exoskeleton, she compliments you and tells you how good you are, and she gives you a kiss on the forehead right before she glues new wings to your back.

Doll: you can see your old self laying there dead, as you look at your new ageless hands. You can't pass for human like this but it doesn't matter, you have visible joins, and a flat unmoving face. It's weird moving without any soft skin. But you look in the mirror and you're so cute, they gave you such a pretty face, and started you off in a cute little suit to wear, with a rose it it's pocket and flowers in your artificial hair. You take a bit to figure out how to walk with your new legs, and everyone who looks at you thinks you're so pretty, not even as a person but as a peice of art, as something human hands made.

Mermaid: You feel yourself deep in the sea. But you aren't drowning. The water goes from blue to black but your eyes can see down here, and your body can live with the pressure. You can see around you as a city below the sea looms above and below you. Your body parts light up to accommodate the shadows, as do the creatures around you. As you start to swim your legs fuse together, and soon there are no legs, no feet, just a long serpentine tail, your body becoming cold and scaled from the chest down. You feel like you're wearing something cold restricting your movements but there's nothing on you. You can breath yet your mouth and nose take in no air. You'll never live with the humans again. Is this home. This is home?

Wyvern: You let the massive scaled creature bow to you and you touch its head. And suddenly you are one. It's like a link is formed and you can't tell where you and and it begins, your instincts, your thoughts, are the same. You can still feel and move your own body but likewise you can do the exact same for it. You can feel what it's like to move with the creature's weight yet elegance, with its sleek slender form, to move its powerful sharp toothed jaws and its delicate yet powerful wings. There's fire within this new body, and when you so wish you can breath it in and out. And it's all so natrual. You can see through both eyes, and you notice it's eyes have your color now, and a human shape, while yourse have its yellow green, and it's slit pupils now. You feel a need to fly that you know will soon be satisfied. You aren't one begin anymore, you aren't just yourself, you are mount and rider, and you feel your other body's wings spread as easily as you'd spread your arms.

Slime: it happens slowly, all of your body going away. First parts just feel soft, then soft enough to poke into, then it's just pink goo that you can move around as much as you'd like. The Flesh transforms but you just have to digest your own bones. The last parts to go are on your head, your teeth melting away as the last remnant of your humanity. Then you can move everything, it's unnatural feeling at first, you don't have individual body parts, just one shapeless mass that can be whatever you want, at one momment you'll be a human shaped thing, but the next you can be a shapeless blob, or anything else. Every part of you can see, and hear, and taste, and eat. You feel so fluid, so free, you are constrained now by nothing.

Living clothing: You let it wrap around you. It's fluid at first, wrapping around you. You can feel it bond to your skin, become as much a part of you as any other layer of flesh. It transforms, it can be any article of clothing, any outfit, all small or as large as long as there's something still on you. And you can feel it, whatever it is you can sense through it, it feels cold and wet in a refreshing way, and when it's something all around you it like a part of you is able to hug and hold yourself. But it's not you, it starts to whisper, and you realize you'll never be alone again.

Spirit: you are nothing. You can feel nothing. Your body is gone, truly gone, yet you can see, you are somewhere. And at just a thought you can be anywhere else you want to be, and look however you want. You can't touch. There is no more touch but you can lift with your mind what you desire. And you can see souls, see thoughts, see the mindscape that humans never can. Yet you're never to feel again. That is unless you possess someone, those bodies do look so possesable, to see what they see and feel what they feel. Mabye you can't just grab someone, but a living host...

Demon: the pact is sealed and your soul is forever gone. You don't feel diffrent, you're still you, but you can see souls, see the people around you have them, and they look so sweet, taste so good. Your true form sets in, as first you look like your ideal self, but then you begin to mutate. Raven's wings come from your back and horns grow from your head. Your eyes redden and teeth sharpen, and your hair becomes replaced with snakes, as a single snake replaces your sex organs. A Scorpion's tail comes out from your spine, and your feet turn into hardened hoves. You feel your new body parts and they feel so good, so natrual, they feel like this is what you were always meant to look like. You can turn back but it'll just be an illusion, this is your body now. Your wings and tail feel so good to move, like they were always meant to be there, like you were missing something without them, and as your snake hair rises it feels so nice, so powerful.

[dilftaroooo]

Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone? 

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor. 

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.” 

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss. 

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.” 

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you. 

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy. 

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something. 

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress. 

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.” 

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.  

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll- 

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

[ellsbclls]

Can I request something with Vi? Maybe like dating headcanons, or maybe where Vi and reader got separated after the council incident that happened but reunite after vi came a pit fighter, and once they see each other again talk a bit before making out

thank you thank you thank you thank you, angel 🥹 i had the absolute hardest time trying to choose which prompt to do, so for the time being i'm gonna word vomit about how good of a girlfriend vi would be, and then i'll work up the courage to execute such a fun and cool scenario!

𖨂 DATING VI HEADCANONS;

  ⟢ vi has always been lead by her heart and so, when she finds someone who embraces it — not for what it can be but for what it is — she lays her weapons down

  ⟢ during her shifts, she'll squirrel away at little souvenirs to bring home to you. it's not enough to just tell you about it, she needs to veil your mirror with a string of noxian banners, the emblem scratched away and embroidered with lily-shaped bolts and acrylic wire. she needs you to know that you're the first thing that comes to her mind when she sees something so tender in the face of violence. by the end of the week, your vanity is overflowing with so many little trinkets that its barely useful anymore, save for her gifts and the exhibition of them. and yet, when she slips the vein of a curling leaf into the palm of your hand, you find a sliver of space for it to live and stretch in front of the face of the mirror, listening intently while she explains how it marked the beginning of another fall with you.

  ⟢ when she finds herself close enough to you, she always tucks her head into the soft of your jaw. and not even in search of a kiss, or at the expense of her teeth. she just breathes you in, where your heartbeat lives, and rocks you back and forth, matching her rhythm the the flighty rate of it.

  ⟢ she hates to bother you with her gauze, and her dressing never cease to bother you. with how often she uses her hands, its inevitable that they will unravel, they'll tear and crease by the end of the day, but god forbid she asks you to help her. no, it won't be until you walk in on her in the bathroom, and she freezes in time — her canines snagging at the tail of a bandage roll while her other arm angles so precariously that it's almost comical. "i've got this," the words are so mangled between her teeth that you choose to ignore them. "i'm sure you do, but humor me." when you take the mantle, she can't help but notice how strong your hands are, how steady, like you're performing surgery. and in a way, you are, putting her back together the only way you know how — carefully.

  ⟢ despite her hands and how heavy they are, she touches you gently. near hesitant. her fingers sweep at the bottom of your eye when you’re drowsy, or tug at the corner of your mouth until it’s nothing but a cheesy half smile, clumsily obvious in her efforts to simply be near you. she’ll say “eyes up here, mister” when she notices how sleazy she’s making you look, but then blush into a blister when you do obey, flashing a pretty pair of doe eyes back at her, your sleazy smirk erupting into something saccharine and beguiled. she barely notices how easily you melt into her touches. so accustomed to drawing blood, to digging into the heel of her palm and restraining, that she feels giddy and drunk with the prospect of holding you and knowing you won’t falter.

  ⟢ she's also a little gross

  ⟢ well, a lot gross, actually. she’ll clean her runny nose with the bottom of her shirt, or dig it into the scruffy pink heat of her armpit and stop, letting the scent hit her tastebuds before she, without fail, shrugs it off. and whenever you catch her in the midst of doing something so gross, she’ll freeze and maintain an eerily impressive sort of eye contact with you, knowing full well that you’ll break eye contact with her before she has a chance to feel ashamed by her actions. it’s the price of growing up with brothers (+ jinx) and never paying for it.

  ⟢ in her restless hours, when you and your body lay half-hazed and dreamy, tucked into the throws and comforts of your bed, perfumed by the drowsy memory of a shower and toasted rice, she comes and crawls into the open spaces you’ve left. for her. to map out and nestle into from above the covers. when she finally finds you, as if you’re not impossibly intertwined already, she needles her arms around your back. nevermind how useless they become in the morning when the prick and pin of morning emerges. who cares? for just one selfish moment it’s just the two of you, cast to an island of quilted sands and dreams.

  ⟢ she also has a hard time saying no to you. the words come out, sure, but the actions never quite line up.

  ⟢ like one instance, early into the post-war rehabilitation efforts. most of piltover had been ravaged, a shiny metropolis brought to pieces — ivory rubble and the singing of distant songs. remarkably, the only remaining piece of infrastructure was the bridge to zaun. its made it easier for the relief efforts to come, and in droves they come — filling empty stomachs, arms aplenty with gauze and vodka, ornamenting what’s left of piltover with remnants of a zaun left unspoken for, whispers of something new and whole. and yet the only thing she hears is the hum of your voice, a gentle echo — "do you think the fish shop is still open?"

  ⟢ for you, it's simple, but to her the request is haunting. she hadn't the heart to tell you that, of the many things that zaun could not preserve, the fish shop was the first to go, and she had spent the remaining weeks finding ways to break it to you. but all fell short in comparison to just doing something about it, even if that something meant tracking the limescaled chef to the heart of zaun and requesting your order a la carte, her heavy gauntlet punctuating the request through the hardwood of his makeshift home.

[whitedovebby]

— TLC

Spencer x fem!nurse!reader

TW - Brief mentions of a child vomiting and a blood test?

WC - 1,176 (proofread, but there may still be mistakes).

Genre - Fluff, fluff, fluff! Soft, nurturing Spencer, literally mostly plotless and just a self-indulgent idea that popped into my head, so I decided to write it. Please bear in mind that I haven't written/published anything in a loooong time, and it's my first actual published Spencer fic, so feedback is so so appreciated! If you read it, I hope you enjoy it. I really enjoyed doing this! ♡

(Disclaimer: I know nothing about being a nurse other than what my mother has told me in the past, and she mentioned that the 'easier' days can sometimes be hard, too).

Summary: After a challenging day at work, Spencer gives you a little much-needed care.

---

Fatigue seeps its way into your body, flowing through your muscles in the form of tight aches that linger incessantly between your shoulder blades, across your lower flanks, and all the way down to the soles of your feet. You feel stiff yet heavy, like a dead weight, and Spencer can tell as much as soon as you set foot into your shared apartment.

You’ve just arrived home after clocking off from a gruelling 12-hour ER shift - feeling mentally and physically drained from being rushed off your feet - and in desperate need of some TLC from your boyfriend.

“Welcome home, angel,” Spencer greets, watching you slip your feet out of your plimsolls and hang your jacket on the coat hook. You turn toward him and offer a half-smile, to which he immediately responds with a sympathetic one.

“Rough shift?” He asks.

“You don’t even know how rough,” you reply, dragging your heavy body across the living room to the couch, where Spencer sits, legs folded with a book resting on them. Flopping down beside him, you tip your head back against the backrest and let out a long sigh. “If it wasn’t a kid with a fever puking all over my scrubs, it was a stubborn old guy arguing with his wife over refusing ‘unnecessary’ blood tests.”

While you rant away, Spencer closes his book and sets it on the coffee table, twisting his body to face you fully, leaning his back against the arm of the couch. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel the way his gaze drifts over you, taking you in in all your exhausted glory. He always puts all his attention on you whenever you’ve clearly had a rough day, and every time, it’s as if he’s trying to calculate the best way to ease some of your burdens.

“It wasn’t even like there were any severe cases today, but sometimes the ‘easy’ days are just as hard.”

Your eyes crack open, and you watch as Spencer reaches out to squeeze your shoulder gently, eliciting a slight hum of something between pain and appreciation.

“You’re all tense,” he muses, repeating that same little squeeze, and it’s then that you see the evidence of a thought flashing in his soft, brown eyes. “Take your top off.”

You let out a puzzled laugh when he instructs this out of nowhere. The instruction came quite far out of the left field. For a moment, you wonder if this is his idea of trying to tempt you into something physical, and if that’s the case, his timing couldn’t be worse. You’re sore and tired and gross-feeling. Not to mention absolutely starving. And after a moment’s pause, you start to speak.

“Spence, I’m not really–”

“That’s not what I’m thinking,” he cuts you off before you can even finish what you’d started, almost like he had read your mind. He can read you as well as one of his damn books sometimes. “I want to give you a shoulder rub,” he continues, rubbing his hands together and blowing into his cupped palms, presumably to warm them up. “So, take your top off and turn around. Please.”

You’re silent momentarily, staring at him and studying his face before a soft smile crosses your own. You feel a little foolish for assuming he was trying to get frisky with you when you’ve already made your fatigue as evident as you have. He’s too sweet for that.

With a soft nod and a quiet ‘alright,’ you sit forward and peel your tank top off over your head, setting it down on the empty space on the other side of you. After turning around so that your back faces him, you let your shoulders sag, the black strap of your t-shirt bra sliding down to hang loosely off the side of your arm.

A few short seconds pass, and then you feel Spencer’s nimble fingers brush your skin as he carefully pulls open the clasps of your bra, allowing the two halves to fall open. “This too,” he prompts softly, and you can hear the grin in his voice, making you grin too.

“After a day of saving lives, I think that’s all the excitement you need right now,” he mumbles, dipping his face to kiss the nape of your neck once. A shiver passes through you when his breath fans across your skin, and you smirk at his words.

“Right,” you huff through a giggle, shrugging your bra off, too, leaving it with your tank top. Spencer’s hands curve over your shoulders, beginning a tender yet firm petrissage with his fingers and thumbs. You already feel like you’re melting, his touch adding just the right amount of pressure to your taut muscles, the knots slowly ebbing away.

“Does that feel good, angel?” He asks, feeling you sag under his ministrations, and you merely hum in response while your mind floats away, carried along by this moment of comforting bliss. “You can take that bun out of your hair when I'm done,” he says, “if I’m right in thinking you have a headache, that thing definitely isn’t helping… restricting all that blood flow with how tight you’ve got it. Your scalp must be crying.”

His thoughtful ramblings bring you back to the present with a light laugh. His constant combining of practicalities with his loving gestures warms your heart in an almost sickeningly sweet way. His way of loving you is just so uniquely Spencer, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Whatever you say, Doctor Reid,” you eventually respond, and there’s a playful edge to your voice, to which he responds with an extra little squeeze of your shoulders.

A comfortable silence falls, and you enjoy your boyfriend’s skilled hands as they soothe away some of your aches, but he soon speaks again, sharing with you the plan he’s organised in his head for how the rest of the night will go.

“After this, you can grab a shower… and I’ll cook you up something tasty and filling. Rossi recently gave me another one of his ‘famous Rossi family recipes’–”

A snort forces its way out of your nose at that, Spencer joining in with a chuckle before carrying on as if the concept of him cooking something recommended by Rossi isn’t wholly amusing.

“Then we can get into bed, and… you can get a decent night’s sleep.”

“Sounds exciting,” you remark, but there isn’t an ounce of genuine snark in your tone. In fact, you’re feeling somewhat spoiled in being so well looked after like this, even if you won’t admit it aloud.

“I’d hardly call it ‘saving lives’,” you argue, too stubborn to take his compliment as it is.

“Well, too bad you’re wrong,” Spencer retorts, smiling against your neck where his lips are still pressed. “You’re my little life-saving angel.”

All you can do is grin in response, biting back another whimsical retaliation and instead settling with, "I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree."

"Fine by me. I know I'm right, anyway."

[oddheadd]

Frostbite °• : ⁠｡ - Chapter III

Skinwalker/Wendigo x reader

CW: Gross things like rotting :P

SMUT!! Rough sex, voyerism, non-consentual at the end(?)

I couldn't sleep last night. The screaming kept me awake.

Screaming? It sounded animalistic, the broken voice desperately wheezing and calling for attention. I laid there helplessly, clutching my pillow and worrying about wether I locked my doors or not. I was too scared to check them, so I just kept staring at the curtains, my heart almost popping out of its place as I tried to look away from them.

I couldn't, and at about 5-6 am, when the screaming had stopped, I dozed off. I later woke up at 4 pm, and weirdly enough, I was inspired to write some more. I put my nightly terror into descriptive paragraphs and created a monster.

One with long, grey, skinny limbs and hair thin enough to see it's pure white eyes... Rotten teeth caging the slithering maggots in its hollow mouth.

I take a deep breath and close my laptop. I grab my phone and see that Nathan had texted me last night.

"Do you drink?"

I can't help but smile and instantly start typing.

"after whatever the hell happened last night, I do."

I put my phone away and make myself a quick meal. My phone buzzes.

"And what happned?"

I chuckle at his misspelling.

"I heard someone or something screaming. I couldn't sleep all night :("

He answers quickly;

"Jackals?"

And I answer just as fast.

"Kind of... It had an artificial echo to it? Don't know how to explain."

I purse my lips and put my phone down. Taking a bite out of the poor excuse of a meal.

"You could demonstrate, when I take you to a bar in the town."

Smile grows on my face as I reread his messages. I should go, what's the worst that can happen? So, we text each other the details and it's a date!

I leave the cabin and decide to look around the village this time. Ain't no way I'm going into the forest after last night.

I try my best to remember the way home as I walk past the other cabins. I admire the architecture - simple, but charming nonetheless. Then I spot a girl, no older than nine looking at me through the window. I smile and give her a wave.

She stays still and keeps staring at me. My hand falls back to my side, and so does my smile. I avoid her gaze and keep walking. I take a few pictures and maybe make a few angels in the snow, before I see an old woman, just barely walking. I approach her. - "Hello, want me to walk you home?"

I get a better look at her face. It's wrinkled, as if her skin is melting off her face. Her eyes are marble like, despite being as dark as coals. I can barely make out her lips that stretch into an uncanny line. Her hair as thin as the monster's that I made up.

She looks at me before her face scrunches up, even more, into a scowl. - "...What are you doing here?" - My mood falters.

"...I used to come here as a child... My mother passed and I decided to visit for a while." - I explain myself. She raises an eyebrow and grabs my arm for support.

"(Your mother)'s kid. You've... Changed, quite a bit."

I tilt my head. - "Do I know you?"

"You'd always steal from my brother's cherry trees. You used to be an annoying, little rascal."

I chuckle awkwardly. - "I get that a lot. So you live down the road?"

"You've become... A very appetizing person." - She says, avoiding my question. I try not to think about her weird wording.

"...Thank you?" - I say after a long pause.

"I used to be like you. Maybe my skin was healthier." - She scoffs, bits of her saliva falling out of her mouth. - "...Not fair... At all." - she sighs.

I stay quiet as she rambles, a little more comfortable now that we've approached her cabin.

"But whatever it wants, it gets." - She says. She tightens her grip. - "Count yourself lucky, being able to serve it like that."

After that I head straight to my cabin. I can't wait to drink with Nathan tonight.

Now as I stand in the snow, my ass literally freezing off, I start to feel disappointed. He promised he'd pick me up, but now I'm getting worried he got lost and mauled.

Tiny snowflakes start falling, adding onto the already layered snow that's coating the ground. I sigh and check my phone again. My frown intensifies, when I see there's no new messages.

I almost fall off the bench on the porch when I see a figure in the corner of my eye.

"Jesus, Nathan. Do you always have to scare me like that?" - I rest my palm on my chest, dramatically so.

He flashes me the Cheshire grin - "Sorry."

I get off the porch and shove my hands into my pocket, a wave of disappointment washing over me when the pockets are just as cold.

"I thought the huge deer got to you." - I tease.

He narrows his eyes. - "I'm at the top of the food chain, you don't have to worry about stuff like that." - He brags and gives me his hand. I take it with a snort, his hands as cold as mine. - "I don't think we can make it to the Bar, it's too far away. And, it's getting dark."

I pout. He chuckles. - "But I know how to make it up to you~" - He says and takes out a flask from his coat.

I raise an eyebrow. - "Charming."

I then walk back to the front door of the cabin and unlock it, going inside. - "Come on in, I'm freezing." - I complain and look at him.

He follows after me with a smile and looks around. - "It's pretty cozy in here."

I chuckle and sit him down onto the couch. - "I think we have some old wine in the attic. Try not to miss me too much."

"Don't worry, I'm patient." - he smiles softly.

I turn on the flashlight on my phone after a hard struggle against the attic door, coughing my lungs out when the dust flies around in the air. I climb up and start looking around the boxes for the wine.

I smile when I finally find it. There's two blood red bottles with no distinct label on them, so I pick them up. My smile falls as I see a... Doll? It's made out of straws, clearly resembling a human body. I pick it up and inspect further. Is this a hex? I put it back down and get up, chills running down my spine when I notice a big red symbol on the wall. I stare at it for a while before turning around and leaving with the bottles in my hands.

I have a guest right now, I'll deal with it later.

On my way, I grab go into the kitchen to get glasses.

"I only have mugs and teacups, no fancy glasses." - I say before grabbing the cups and sitting next to him. He throws his arm around my shoulder.

"I don't look like the fancy type though, do I?" - He chuckles and I shrug.

I pour us some wine and sip from my cup. - "So, why did you move here again?"

"Nature always called out to me." - He shrugs. - "And you, Y/N? What's your job and why did you come here?"

I purce my lips. - "Well, I'm a writer. I've written some stuff but nothing special, really. I wanted to write a horror book and came here to set the mood, ya know?"

"And how's that working out?" - He tilts his head.

I sigh. - "I'm having the worst writer's block I've ever had. Barely wrote a few pages."

"Let's see then." - He says, and I hesitantly agree. I grab my laptop and open the file, handing it to him.

I stand up and approach the fireplace, tending to it as he reads for a while.

"It's great." - He smiles and I look back at him.

"Is it?"

"A little complaint... You're trying too hard to explain all the details. Reading is all about letting people warp characters and places into whatever their mind makes up."

"...That makes a lot of sense, actually." - I sit back next to him. - "Can you help me?"

He eyes me and nods.

I don't know how much time passes, but we're now sitting on the floor and already have finished the second bottle of wine, now taking turns on taking a swing out of Nathan's flask. I've been taking notes, typing away furiously.

As I let out a deep breath, I look up from my laptop screen and the whole room starts spinning. I grunt and put the gadget away, placing my head in Nathan's lap. He chuckles and strokes my hair. - "Are you alright?"

"...A little tired. And dizzy." - I pout. Nathan just keeps smiling and sits me up again, making me look at him by taking my chin in-between his fingers.

I keep looking into his eyes and his smile never falters, only getting closer to my own lips. I instinctively close my eyes and part my lips a little, almost melting into Nathan's arms when they connect with his.

My heated cheeks heat up even more when he lays me down onto the soft, warm carpet and lets out a deep groan.

Then I can't even comprehend what happened, when I look to my side and see both mine and his clothes on the floor. Then I feel his erected cock, rubbing against me and realize I'm not wearing any underwear neither. I look back at him and pull him into a kiss again, moaning in delight. He then pushes it inside of me, spreading the walls to make more room for himself and and starts gently grinding it deeper out of me.

I lose track of time and what's happening again, and this time feel him mercilessly thrusting his hips against my ass, almost steaming air of heat spreading into the whole room while his rough fingers caress all the right spots. I let out moans and whimpers in-between my breaths, while he muffles his in my collarbone.

"Don't stop... Fuck, Nathan..." - I moan out his name and he looks up at me.

He then runs his fingers through my hair pulls my head back, giving me a view of the rest of the room, before he buries his face into my neck and leaves a trail of sloppy kisses.

I get closer to cumming, feeling myself spasm and squeeze around him, before I notice something in the windows. There are people outside my cabin... They're chanting something while drawing a symbol on the windows...

It's the same symbol as the one in my attic. I huff and try to stop Nathan but he can't even see my expression with his head buried into my neck. I shut my eyes and try my best not to cry... And soon enough, pass out.

[nonamenonamenon]

Across all three realms, Solomon is a sorcerer known to all as fearsome and powerful.

He has a notable amount of demons under pacts with him, and his magical prowess is nothing to laugh at, either.

Some even tell the tale of the sorcerer being able to wage war on the entirety of the Devildom, with only one man, himself, backing his corner.

To his friends and acquaintances, he's an eccentric human with a love for cooking. His love for the act doesn’t mean he’s good at it, though.

Rather than fearing his skills and abilities when it comes to magic, his cooking is the most fearful thing about him.

He’ll serve you food that looks like it’s been made out of poison and objects entirely unfit for making dishes with a handsome, close-eyed smile.

He’s entirely oblivious to the deadly effects that his meals dish out to those who eat it, with his cooking being bad enough to make even the most fearful demons in the Devildom keel over and faint simply by having a taste.

However, known to you, and only you, is a softer side of Solomon not often seen by others. Among every human, demon, angel, reaper, and any other race in this world, you feel as though you’re blessed by the Celestial Realm itself to be the only person to see all of his sides so wholly and so intimately.

As his adorable apprentice (as the sorcerer often calls you,) you’re all too aware of his skill when it comes to magic. In your eyes, he’s stellar, and an amazing teacher. While being his pupil isn’t easy, he makes sure to know that you’re doing well through praise, offering a kiss for every spell you get right, and other rewards that… aren’t exactly age appropriate enough to mention.

Though, you think he enjoys these acts a lot more than you do.

When it comes to domestic things, Solomon is all too elated by the act of cooking for the one he holds most dear. He puts all of his heart and soul into the meals he creates for you, though that doesn’t mean they’re any better. Living with Solomon… is no easy task. Especially when it comes to eating his cooking.

Unfortunately for you, your love for Solomon and the guilt of having to stare at his sad face when you reject his meals overpower your distaste for his cooking, so you grin & bear it, even if you’ll end up with nasty side effects after.

The soft, quiet, and romantic moments with Solomon are what you treasure most.

The ones where you sit, studying together in a comfortable silence, where you simply exist in each other’s presence, feeling the other’s warmth.

The moments where you’re quietly observing his peaceful sleeping face, and the moments where he’s giving you much needed comfort and affection, consoling you without needing to say any words.

It’s heartwarming, and it makes your stomach churn & flutter in a good way.

He once told you that he never had anyone in his life that cared about him so deeply, or anyone to care for in the same way.

Throughout your entire relationship, and for your foreseeable future with him, you make sure to never let him feel that way ever again.

It’s a gross underestimate to say that you two only love each other.

What you have with Solomon goes deeper than words can describe, and what you two feel for each other is more than you can express.

It’s why the quiet moments with him are your most treasured.

In each comfortable silence that the two of you share together, no matter when it is or where you are, the both of you know well that there’s a million words (and more) of love and affection being said.

[gassyandnasty]

The Jock Formula 2.1 - Living with JongHo

Sorry for the long wait, guys. Finally, the chapter I promised with the Jock you chose in the poll is here.

_________________________________________

Dohyun's POV

Being a nerd in this campus in a complete hell. We get constantly harassed by Josh and his gang, and everything got even worse when my friend George invented the "Jock Formula".

It was supposed to save us, but Andrew got everything for him and now is joining this hell of a frat. It can be sad for the rest of our friend group, but for me it's worse, as it has always been.

I'm JongHo's twin brother. Yes, that big and burly guy actually has a nerdy relative that he is quite ashamed of. We were supposed to be the same, but I was never inclined to sports, and those gross eating competitions, so while he kept growing, I stayed the same.

My place isn't in this frat at all, but our strict parents didn't want us living apart on college so Jongho only moved to the frat with the condition that I went together. And I've been unhappy since.

They treat me like a maid. I have to wake up earlier to cook breakfast for them, clean ALL of their mess. And it's a hell of a mess. Apart from the dirty and cruel pranks that they pull on me constantly. On top of all that, I have to endure my big and brainless brother everyday, since we share the same room.

They are having a hazing ceremony today, I won't even go downstairs to say anything to that traitor, but I can hear the loudest burps and farts ever, and all kinds of noise those meatheads produce. Happily, those ceremonies take a lot, so I'm having crumbs of peace this night.

I put my headphones on and put some ASMR to muffle the outside noise. I feel I can sleep like an angel without him here, so when I close my eyes, I loose no time in getting asleep.

Unconsciously, the peaceful time is feeling oddly long, when It's interrupted by a loud thud in the door, followed by it's opening:

"Think I missed the handle again haha damn, tonight was fun."

It was Jongho. Peace ended. He can't even come in the room quietly in the middle of the night. I heard him opening the fridge and grab a bottle of something.

"Ugh, so thirsty..." loud gulps followed by heavy steps. "You there?" I can FEEL his massive frame over me, maybe if I keep pretending that I'm asleep, he leaves me alone.

"Wake up, princess." He says, poking my face with his heavy finger, but I won't budge. I hear his stomach rumbling as he states "Gosh, I'm so full... I know what will wake you up."

With that, I fell his heavy weight smothering my head. I know this feeling too well, his huge and sweaty cheeks mold all around my face, while he adjusts himself to get his crack right above my nose. Im cooked.

"Shouldn't have eaten that many hot-dogs... HNNNGG" I feel him straining and forcing out a a fart.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

It slapped like a punch on my face, as it stink intoxicated my senses, while the explosive noise overpowered my ears. It was long, loud and deep, not losing power once, while it rumbled all over my face.

*COUGH* MMPHMMPPBMM *COUGH*

I tried to scream and got muffled by his massive ass. And the taste of his fart invading my mouth after was demonic. He started to rub his butt on my face as I felt him laughing above me.

"Hahaha that can waken the dead, right?" He dumbly stated, almost killing me. I managed to push him over my face, making him land on my chest. Suffocating me all the same.

"What do you want, you JERK?" I ask with the remaining force I have, while he grins and sniffs his own fart.

"Damn, that was a monster, happy that wasn't on my face haha" he thumped on his full belly. "Ate so much this night, only your friend Drew could beat me, you know? He is part of the group now, loser."

"Don't mention that TRAITOR near me. I don't want to hear about Andrew, may he gags on his own gas." I curse him. It boils my blood to know that a guy I called friend is now joining my biggest enemies.

"I don't know about Drew, but you're gagging on this..." Jongho scooted a little to the side, bending his ass towards me, and forced out another fart:

FRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFTFTFRFTFTTTTTTTT

I gagged.

"Hahahaha, I can't wait for the new pranks we are going to pull on you, loser. Now, I gotta sleep" Jongho got up and I finally felt the relief of his weight leaving my chest. But I didn't see him going to the bathroom to change or shower. He is stinking of beer and hot sauce.

"Aren't you missing something? Are you gonna sleep reeking like this?" I ask, trying to save work for me tomorrow, if he changes, I don't have to wash the sheets.

He looks at me with an uncomfortable face, aa he brings his head to his stomach, I hear it rumbling when he answers: "Yeah... I think I'm missing something..." he gives his belly a strong push and bend his face over mine, opening his mouth wide, letting it all rip:

gOOOOoooOOOOOOOOOOOOooooOOODDDDDD-NNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUURRRPPPPPPPPPPP

As he answers me with an ungodly belch, that covers my face with saliva, bits of food and a sickly smell of soda and sausage. He grins as he jumps on his bed and I turn light headed, passing out.

_________________________________________

I wake up feeling sick in the day after. Gosh, I hate them so much. Our room is still stinking, and I'm tired just to think of how much cleaning work I have to do as they messed everything up on that hazing.

I turn to my side and Jongho's bed is empty. Bad sign. He NEVER wakes up early, that can only mean that I'm... late.

I fear for my life.

I get ready fast and go downstairs, maybe I can make up for the time lost, and the first thing I see when I arrive at the kitchen the scene I see is terrifying.

Empty plates all over, with Jongho, Josh, Sal and Andrew sat at the table, looking at me.

"Forgot about breakfast today?" Josh asks, not giving me a good morning even.

"I-I..." I was about to say, when Sal added: "So we had to do it for ourselves..."

Gosh I'm so screwed...

"But no worries, you didn't cook us breakfast, but we will give yours. Sit" Jongho said. I wanted to run but there was no escape. The only place left was between my brother and Andrew, they already wanted to tease me.

As I sat, Andrew said: "Morning, loser." Putting his arm around me, his pits were already stinking.

"I have a name and you know that, Andrew. How could you?" My blood boiled.

"I have a name and it is Drew now. I can address you by how I want though, whimp." The boys laughed at his response and I gritted my teeth.

I was hungry cause I didnt have dinner yesterday. The hazing kept everything busy so I only had some snacks, my stomach rumbled, making them laugh.

"Hahaha, he is hungry guys, why don't we give him his meal already?" Josh commands.

"I will begin with the appetizer" "Drew" says. Gosh I hate to even think calling him that.

"Open your mouth." He says.

"No way! I'm not doing that!" As I thought of getting up, Josh held me, and Drew pinched my cheeks, forcing my mouth open.

"Now we get it haha eat that!" He starts to swallow air and get close, very close. As my open mouth is in line with his, he rips a nasty belch in it, making me taste what he had for breakfast

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP!! *phwooooshhh*

He even blows afterwards, making me teary eyed.

They all high five and laugh, as I see Sal getting in front of me next.

"Now for the entreé, baked beans with a pinch of..." Sal turned around and bent over, displaying his huge bubbly ass on my face. I felt his hand grabbing the back of my head, making me land with my open mouth right in front of his crack. "...my stink... HNNGG"

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTFTFTFTTFTTTTFTFTFTFTTTTTT

And it stunk to high heavens. All of their gas is potent, but Sal's has twisted smell, making the worse. And I had to swallow.

As I gagged, the guys laughed about him making me eat his fart. I felt some movement, and now Jongho is holding me while Josh got in front of me.

"Let me see if I got your order right, you wanted a double... UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPP" He added with a nauseating belch on my face. As I didn't have time to process this, I saw him turning around and lifting his leg:

"With a side of... FRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTRTRRRRRRRTRTRTTTTT!!"

They couldn't contain themselves with so much laughing at his stupid joke. At least, it's finished... they got "my order".

"What a restaurant will he think this is?" I hear Jongho say behind me. "If we don't give his dessert?" That got the guys expecting something. In a swift move, he let go of the hold on me and pressed his ass on my face, pinning me against the chair.

"A full cake, as you ordered, sir" Jongho said, rubbing his colossal ass on my face. I could hear some flashes now, bet they are recording it.

I heard him grunt, and it happened:

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBFFFFTTTT!!

A powerful and huge fart rumbled my face, and went straight down my throat. I could taste the twisted flavour of his breakfast as he filled me with his gas.

"Aaaaahhh, bon appetit!" Jongho sighs in relief, high-fiving his friends. They leave the room as I'm too weak to stand up.

Uuurrpp- I burp as some of their gas come back.

I hate my life.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I found a probably illegal fighting range posting as a gym near my house and so, picture THIS

Engel just wanted to get a good workout near the place she lives. Not knowing German, she just googled first thing that popped near her on the map, and decided to get a first workout just so think if this place works for her.

Konig, getting his steam off in barely legal fighting range and very nasty, testosterone-filled gym while he is out of deployments. Engel in her dumb little workout clothes, with her silly water bottle, probably pink or baby blue or lavender, stands in front of the administrator desk because she was told it was a gym(((

Konig who uses her as a workout now!! Not even in a nasty way, just making her sit on him and so on, for the added weight. Bench presses with her on his back((( makes her cheer for his fight and acts like nasty personal trainer

My fellow yandere pookie!! I love this ask! 💋

I bet König would love to parade his sweet angel around some nasty, testosterone-filled gym/ fighting range :( Loves to show her off and also wants to murder anyone who dares to look at her! She’s too cute when she’s sweating and panting like that, don't you dare check her out when she's exerting herself in those dumb, tight sports clothes or else you'll get yourself a new asshole....

At least 90 % of the “customers” are men seeking a brawl so Engel stands out like a sore thumb, taking hungry gulps from her pink water bottle which is the only spot of colour in the bleak brutal gym. A kind, sweet girl just trying to have a nice lil workout, and they can’t turn her away because they have to pose as a real gym… (lol I’m not surprised Engel somehow managed to get herself into a situation like this AGAIN)

And König is so proud of her! Trying to attempt a squat PR with weights he uses for a quick warmup, it's too adorable. He cheers her on when she’s trying to do her very first chin up – he has to help her up because the bar is positioned too high.

These two are simply disgusting because Engel will flirt through the mirror as revenge for König being low key nasty, always putting his hands around her middle, trying to remind her to keep her core tight or some silly stuff like that. Climbs on his lap when he’s trying to bench press, they get a warning because they’re distracting the other “customers” and look it’s also potentially dangerous. König knows it but he’s got his pump on and it makes him a little soft in the head, besides Engel trying to help him in her own way only makes him lift more because of course he has to show off to her and to the other men. He’s the strongest male around here and he’s having fun with his darling angel, everyone else can fuck off with their warnings and rules.

And NOO not König kicking everyone’s butt at the range while Engel watches him with wide eyes 🥺 He’s being so violent again, she doesn’t know if she’s grossed out or aroused :// It might be a little sick but they both get turned on by this, König “letting out steam” and Engel being his “innocent” little cheerleader. They go home and take a shower together, Engel cleans his wounds too, whispering confessions on how scared she was – when in reality she knew all along that König would destroy those guys, like is this the same girl who screamed from joy when he bashed someone's face in lol – and König being more than happy to have a worried but sparkly eyed angel, fussing about his health after he just gave some poor guy a free nose job.

[loveywon]

♡𓂃 ALWAYS BE HERE !

part 2 of START NOW !

pairing: jungwon x gn!reader

synopsis: after being stuck with jungwon in a new and unfamiliar world, you start developing newfound feelings about him.

wc: 4.0k+

warnings: fluff! there’s a baby, one (1) mention of throwing up, the fluff in this is so sickening seriously i feel gross, i think that's it tbh, not proofread as per usual

a/n: surprise!! thank you guys sm for 800 notes on my first fic, im literally experiencing whiplash from it. hope this was written well to your likings, i love you all and thank you guys again<333.

you feel like you’ve been slapped in the face. 

jungwon has basically adapted the routine within the first week, between taking care of the kid that is apparently yours and his job that he only found out two days ago because he got a call saying “you’re gonna get fired if you keep skipping work like this” from sunghoon. with a look at his checking account, his eyes almost popped out of his head with how much money was in there. when he showed you, you simply shrugged. of course jungwon was going to be successful, with how his high school life is (now, was), he’s bound to live a fulfilling life. he’s taken aback by your nonchalance to the money in the account, and you have to swallow your pride down to admit vocally to him that you always admired his dedication to the academic school life. 

speaking of, you found yourself swallowing your pride often. almost too often, you think, but you feel like its character development, or at least it’s what jungwon says. he’s done a great job at making sure you’re not too overwhelmed in this new life that you two have to adapt, and you feel kind of bad that you’re not really doing much with helping out. you do try, really! it’s just the fact that not being around kids often is a tad bit hard and being thrown into a situation where you have one of your own is more difficult than you thought it would be. jungwon does a great job at teaching you the basics, and he always reassures you that you’re doing great with the baby, even if it’s just holding her or feeding her. 

you also find yourself being more open with jungwon. it still feels foreign, and you always hesitate still and almost back out often times, but you’re determined to stick to your promise and to at least try, because jungwon has been nothing but an angel to you ever since, and the newfound realization that he has been pining for you this entire time makes you want to try harder for him. you’ve confided in him and you start to feel more safe around him as well, and admittedly, it’s something you never thought would happen, but when jungwon tells you every moment that has made him fall harder for you, you start to feel fuzzy and warm, even giggling a little. jungwon feels over the moon, like he’s absolutely won at life. he doesn’t want to leave. 

on the other hand, you want to leave. as cute as the baby is and nice the house is, something is still off and you don’t know how jungwon does everything so naturally and pretends like everything is so normal when it’s so far from reality. neither of you have figured out how the two of you got here, because there was quite literally nothing to go off of. every night you wonder if you’ll ever be able to go back to high school, but now you’re letting yourself fall into the daily routine you and jungwon curated. 

the sunlight shines through the blinds, and you’re already awake. every morning feels like deja vu, and you’re not used to sleeping on a foreign mattress. jungwon lays on the floor beside you, a blanket wrapped around him like a burrito. he insisted on sleeping on the floor because he didn’t want to pressure you, even though you assured him it was fine, but he still was stubborn and laid out his own makeshift bed beside you. it’s a sweet gesture, you think, and every night you invite him to sleep up on the bed because it can’t be comfortable to sleep on the floor, but he still refuses and makes himself comfy. 

you lean down, poking his shoulder. he stirs, but he’s still asleep. you smile slightly at his cute sleeping state, but you slap a hand over your mouth when you catch yourself. something you’re not used to is smiling at something whenever jungwon does something because you’re normally grimacing in disgust. you decide to let him sleep in and try to take care of the baby yourself since he’s been doing everything lately. he must’ve been so exhausted, and you feel yourself frowning. 

you roll yourself out of bed, making your way to the baby’s room. she blinks her eyes open as soon as she hears the door knob turn, and she reaches her small arms out for you. “hi, sweetheart, had a good sleep?” you ask, even though you know you’ll only get random babbles as a reply. you tickle her side and she giggles. you feel a fuzzy feeling again, and you admire the baby for a few minutes. one thing that ‘future you’ didn’t put in the scrapbook was the baby’s name, so you and jungwon refer to the baby as the baby. it feels almost too adulting to give the baby a name, so honestly you’ve been avoiding it but jungwon doesn’t bring it up either so you assume it’s mutual. you go over to the little counter by the wall and start making the baby’s milk, remembering what jungwon had taught you last week. pouring the milk into the baby bottle, you walk back to the crib and pick the baby up, opting to sit on the carpeted floor and feeding her the bottle. you smile as you simply look at her, almost fondly but it’s still off. 

jungwon walks in, rubbing his eyes groggily. he woken up not too long ago, and upon not seeing you in the bed, he almost panics. he thought you somehow had went back to high school or something, and he was just left here. he sighs in relief when he heard the milk machine stir loudly from the baby’s room. after his vision’s finally clear and sees you feeding the baby, he matches your smile and sits down on the floor across from you. the only reason why he has not brought up the baby’s name is because you haven’t, and he thinks he knows you enough to know that you’re not used to this new world, and he also knows its scary to put a label on things and naming the baby feels almost too official, like the two of you are stuck here. but jungwon doesn’t feel stuck, and he almost feels content in this new life. he has you now, with him, what more could he ask for? just like you, he wonders if you two will ever go back. but he’s more worried if you’ll still try to reciprocate his feelings for you if you two go back, and if you will forget everything that happened in this life. he’ll go back to square one, and he’s not sure if he can go through it again. although if it’s for you, he knows he’ll go through hell and back if it meant being with you. 

he leans forward a bit to watch the baby drink from her bottle, and your gaze changes from the baby to jungwon. it’s a quiet moment, no things are spoken between the two of you and it’s definitely less awkward than it would have been a week ago. silence is now comfortable to you, which is very odd considering you hate any silent moments and you always have to break the silence whenever it happens. “she is so cute,” jungwon whispers, but still loud enough that you can hear. you nod in agreement, she really is cute, and she took a lot of features from jungwon. the resemblance is almost uncanny and you think it was obvious from the start that the baby is definitely jungwon’s. the baby finishes her bottle and pops it out of her mouth, and jungwon takes it to the built in sink on the counter to wash it. she’s dozing off in your arms, and you swear you almost loudly coo at her but you catch yourself in time. you stand up and lay her down gently in the crib as jungwon finishes washing the baby bottle. 

you two make your way downstairs and you sit down on the kitchen island with the scrapbook laid out in front of you. this would make it the second time you’ve looked through the book, and you wonder if you missed anything from the first time you flipped through it. jungwon busies himself with the stove, preparing breakfast for the both of you. you lean your head on one hand, opening up the scrapbook. you don’t remember ever picking up the hobby of scrapbooking, but then again, it feels like you’ve aged ten years, and a lot of things can change in ten years. you also think a lot of things can change in a mere week. 

as you continue to flip through the pages, you stop at a page that had pictures of you and jungwon in front of different landscapes around the world. it’s secretly your favorite page because you’ve always wanted to travel, so to know that you did, even if you don’t recall, it makes you feel a little giddy. maybe when you go back home, you’ll get to experience it. as you’re scanning through the pictures, one of the tapes keeping the pictures on the page loosens up, and you try to fix it until you see handwriting on the back. you furrow your brows in confusion, taking the entire tape off and flipping the picture over. the entire scrapbook didn’t have any writing, so seeing something written on the back was new to you. and not only was it your own handwriting, but what was written on it gave you goosebumps. you always felt odd about this entire situation, even though it was quite obvious that you’re currently in the future, it was just the question of why and how. 

‘you’ll be here one day! 2/17/2034’ 

you flip the photo back around and messily tape it back onto the scrapbook page before shutting it and shoving it to the side. you try your best to think nothing of it, and it could mean literally anything if you think about it deep enough, right? wrong, you frown. it’s too oddly specific, and it’s like you knew that you want to experience traveling. you stare off into space, your bottom lip capturing between your teeth. jungwon finishes cooking, and he places a plate in front of you before taking a seat beside you. he looks at you when you don’t make a move to eat, leaning forward to see your face. he waves a hand in your face, calling out your name. you snap out of it again, and you shake your head. “sorry,” you mumble, grabbing the fork he gives you and taking a bite out of the eggs. “mm, this is so good! seriously, how did i not know you can cook like this?” you turn to him, quickly changing the topic before he could ask what was wrong. you know that you’re technically hiding and guarding yourself again, but you let yourself just this once because you’ve convinced yourself that you’re only inconveniencing jungwon with your thoughts. 

he shrugs, “because you always fought with me back then?” he answers obviously, and you let out a silent “right”. the week has felt like an entire year so you almost forget that you literally hated him just a week ago. “sorry. but you know, why didn’t you ever clear up the misunderstanding with me? we could have been friends then,” you ask, it’s simply out of curiosity because it’s not like it would have changed anything now. he shrugs again, “i don’t think you would have listened to me, to be honest. you probably would’ve death glared at me and killed me with silence… and i guess i was just content with you bickering with me because you were still talking to me. i don’t know if you still would’ve talked to me if i cleared it up, and i still want to talk to you.” he replies, smiling more to himself because he thinks it’s kind of funny. 

“ohh. that’s fair, i guess. i probably wouldn’t have talked to you if you cleared it up, to be honest as well. would have moved on with my life and not think twice about it,” you shrugged, continuing to eat your breakfast. you always play the nonchalance role, but jungwon always has a way with his words that make butterflies flutter in your stomach and it almost makes you feel queasy even. “but, i still want to talk to you too.” you smile at him, and he returns your smile. he thinks you’ve definitely put in effort with tolerating him, because a week ago you probably would’ve spilled your guts if you heard what he said, and he appreciates your efforts. he’s still not really expecting an ‘i like you back’ from you, he still thinks its unrealistic. it doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying and vying for you. 

you finish your plate and grab jungwon’s empty plate to the sink to wash, and he watches idly since the baby is still asleep and there isn’t much to do. you think jungwon’s already used to the new life, but you really couldn’t be more wrong. he’s used to taking care of himself already, which is why it comes to natural to him, but he’s really not used to the whole thing of you being nice with him and the fact that there is a baby in the room above that is his. his baby, your baby. he gets fuzzy thinking about it, which is why he thinks he’s trying his best to take care of the baby with little to no experience. his cousins are the closest thing to experience he has. 

once you finish with the dishes, the two of you silently make your way onto the couch. it’s not really awkward silence, as again, you feel more comfortable around jungwon now. but you’ve been itching to ask him the question that you think about every night, and you think that it’s been an entire week; he must want to go home, right? so you ask, “hey, jungwon?” he perks his head up at your voice, wide eyes giving you his full attention and you melt a little bit unknowingly. “do you know…if we’ll ever go back?” you question and his brows raise in response. he purses his lips into a thin line, breaking eye contact with you to think. he knows his answer is something you don’t really want to hear, but he wants to be honest with you. 

“no… or well, i don’t know. but it’s not so bad here, is it? i think it’s kind of nice…” he answers you, but his voice fades out towards the end of his sentence because he knows you disagree. he sees the way you lie awake in bed, silently hoping to wake up to your childhood bed and return back to high school normally. you, however, don’t expect his answer. yes, it it’s not bad here. but you really miss home and your high school friends, and you feel like you’ll never be used to this new life that you and jungwon were thrown into. you don’t respond to him, and you slump into the couch a little bit. he meets your eyes again, and even though you’re looking straight ahead and not him, he slumps with you and leans a little bit towards you. his scent fills your senses, and if he didn’t smell so good you definitely would have pushed him away immediately. but it’s jungwon, so you don’t. 

he blows your hair in a playful manner, and it sticks to your face annoyingly. “hey!” you laugh as you push hair out of your face, finally meeting his gaze. he gives you a smile that you know and love, a smile that makes you forget what the two of you were talking about earlier. “even if we don’t get out of here, i’ll still be here for you,” he says sincerely, and you know it’s sincere with the way his eyes shine as he looks at you with so much admiration that it makes you feel like jello. you don’t doubt his words for a second, so you nod, giving him a slight smile. “thank you. me too, even though i know i don’t really do much around here,” you mumble, pouting slightly because you feel bad for him taking most of the responsibilities and setting aside his worries for taking care of you and the baby. 

jungwon simply shrugs, “you being here is enough for me.”

another two long days pass, and you’re snuggled up next to the baby in the master's bedroom where you and jungwon sleep. you and the baby are both fast asleep, even though you tried to stay awake until jungwon got home from his work. you’ve stayed up the past week whenever he’d go to work, but you suppose the sleepless nights have finally caught up to you. jungwon announces that he’s home from downstairs, and is appalled to not see you watching television or something in the living room. he assumes something is happening with the baby upstairs, so he quickly rushes up the steps and enters the baby’s room to only find neither of you there. he panics a little, and it feels a little bit like deja vu when you weren’t in bed that one morning. he prays that you didn’t find a way to leave, somehow taking the baby with you. he rushes to your shared bedroom, only opening the door to see you and the baby cuddled up together, eyes closed in a slumber. 

he thinks he must’ve done something in his past life to get such a beautiful sight in front of him, with his own eyes. 

he smiles at the two of you, before deciding to change into clean clothes so he can join you two in the bed. he decides, for just this once, he’ll let himself be selfish and enjoy this domestic moment. you feel the bed dip beside you, and it stirs you awake. you turn around, only to meet the soft eyes of jungwon. “i’m sorry, did i wake you?” he asks quietly, careful to not wake the baby up. you shake your head, “it’s okay. how was work?” you whisper back, and this conversation feels so real, it’s so domestic and you feel sick. mentally, the two of you are still teenagers so even having this conversation feels so surreal and you don’t know if you like it or not. you do know, however, that you like jungwon. you feel pushed to your limit, and everything that has happened made you realize a few things about yourself that you didn’t know before. you couldn’t ask for anyone better to be stuck with. 

“it was alright. are you tired?” he replies. his voice is laced with such genuine concern for you, and you can’t help but bury your head further into the pillow and towards his chest. jungwon’s taken aback slightly with this change of position, but he doesn’t show it, or at least you choose to not point it out. “i like you, so much. it makes me feel physically sick, not gonna lie.” you confess suddenly in a quiet whisper, and this time, it’s obvious that jungwon is shocked. if it weren’t for the silent white noise of the air conditioning and nothing else, he would have missed what you said but the words ‘i like you’ rings in his head and he has to remind himself that the baby is still sleeping beside the two of you. his absence in words make you feel even more sick; did his feelings for you disappear? you can understand it, if that’s the case. being stuck with someone for more than a week makes it easier to stop liking someone. you fear that’s what happened. 

“i literally can’t even believe this right now,” he whispers under his breath, and your head shoots up to look at him. his eyes are brighter than ever, you think it’s brighter than the sun and you can’t look away. “i like you too — even though you already know…but i like you so much too. sorry i make you sick. i’ll always be here to make you feel better, though!” he assures with a sweet, toothy smile. you hate him so much. you don’t understand how he was able to change your feelings about him into a complete 180 degrees, and yes you’re complaining about it but you secretly thank whoever put you both into the future. 

“ugh, you’re disgusting. please kiss me now.” you grin, and he grins back until both of your lips meet in a soft peck. it’s sweet and innocent, and it’s more than what jungwon and you could ask for. “you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this moment,” jungwon says cheesily, and you roll your eyes. you make another comment about how those words are so gross but you know you felt a part of you melt. the two of you soon fall into a blissful sleep, wrapped around each other’s arms. it doesn’t occur to either of you that it’s the first time you’re sharing the bed with jungwon, but it doesn’t matter because the next morning when you wake up, it feels like it’s the best sleep you’ve ever had in your life. 

a blaring alarm wakes you up, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself in your own bed again, in your parents house. you rush to get out of bed, checking your mirror, only to see the teenager version of you once again. you smile to yourself, touching your face and you’re relieved. but the feeling is quickly set aside when jungwon crosses your mind again, and you pick up your phone to text him. you then realize you don’t have his number, because you literally hated him. you suck in a breath and decide to get ready for school, because it’s the only way you’ll be able to see him. if you do. 

you put on the first thing you see in your closet, rushing down the stairs and your parents don’t even spare a glance at you, just a “good morning sweetie!”, as if time didn’t pass when you were in a different time. you speed walk to school, and the halls are already all crowded with students talking and walking to their first class of the day. your friend greets you, but you don’t really pay much attention to what they’re talking about, and you ask them, “where’s jungwon?” they give you an odd look, “why’re you looking for him? didn’t you literally tell him that ‘anyone who has to wake up next to him is the unluckiest person ever to exist’ just yesterday?” they quote you, and you roll your eyes, waving them off. “doesn’t matter. have you seen him?” you brush it off, but when you turn your head to the left you see the boy you’ve been looking for. “never mind. gotta go, see you!” you say goodbye to your friend, who is only left staring blankly at your running figure. 

“jungwon!” you say his name as you’re making your way towards him, and his eyes meet yours. it’s only been a night, and you’ve never missed someone this much before. he smiles upon seeing you, and the two of you meet in a hug. “how did we get back?!” you ask ecstatically, but you honestly don’t care about how. you’re just happy that you’re both back with newfound perspectives of each other. he shrugs his shoulders and laughs, “i don’t know! i guess a kiss solves everything?” he jokes and makes puckering lips to you. you scrunch your nose up, holding your hand in front of his face as you feign disgust. “shut up, i hate you,” you mumble. 

you both know it’s a lie. 

taglist!: @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs @hyunes4ngel

[pupyr0arz]

thinking about obsessive Gaz still…him being a bit of a weird bff. Male reader.

It’s not a shrine. Shrines are childish, weird things built by freaks who obsess over people, complete creeps who probably have bones in their closets and lick printouts. It’s….a refuse drawer, that happens to have acquired a theme. Not even a collection, that would imply Kyle was being deliberate, which he isn’t. He’s only keeping your things so he can return them, but he can’t exactly show up at your house with just a toothbrush now, can he? It’s only polite, and he’s sure when he finally has enough knicknacks you’ll smile and pat Kyle on the cheek like you always do when you’re pleased and somehow manage to get away with it without being condescending. Maybe even knock your heads together, like you do when you’re sleepy and staying over for a movie, giving him long molasses moments with his nose to yours. He isn’t some weirdo following some girl around and stealing her panties. Kyle hasn’t touched a pair of your boxers, though he hasn’t been able to get you to stay more than one night. He thumbs over Ghost’s contact in his phone and thinks about crime statistics a normal amount.

He doesn’t have a drawer for Johnny or his other guy friends because they’re assholes, that’s all. You’re just his nice friend, the one who smiles and genuinely talks about your life and encourages him to be soft and sweet and buttery instead of raucous and harsh. Kyle wants to smooth his rough edges in your presence, wants to charm you and see things how you do, he wants his ladykiller smile to soften to something genuine. That involves picking up the things you leave behind with a pure kind and full intentions to return them, not in some creepy, awful manner that would make you call him gross and shut the door in his face.

Kyle is a considerate friend to you, dutiful and generous. When you’re hurrying out of the door, one foot in a hangover, he passes you the closest jacket. It’s his, by sheer coincidence, his rack is solely his own clothes, and yours had gone missing from atop the couch mysteriously during the night. Kyle doesn’t mention folding it and tucking it away, it’s his right to have a clean home and he’s a good host tidying up after his guest. He pretends to find it a half hour after you’ve left, ensuring the temptation to use it as an excuse to catch up to you or drop by and steal an extra conversation. Sometimes he struggles with long term rewards over the short term, and you’re no help. It’s the lottery ticket in your pocket, he’s discussing to himself, what else could he be speaking about? He considers laundry for half a second, holding the jacket tightly in his hands. It smells like you more than the deodorant does, deeper, and Kyle decides he shouldn’t make assumptions about your clothes. What if it’s dry clean only, or he uses the wrong temperature setting and ruins it? It’d be rude to assume your nondescript hoodie isn’t anything special to you. He picks up the glasses both of you had used and if he forgets to wash yours before he takes a sip, he’s a bachelor living alone and can blame it on habit.

Kyle likes inviting you over more than he likes going over to yours. Your apartment isn’t far, and it isn’t ugly or overly cramped, and you are never anything but an angel to him there, but Kyle needs sleep and he finds himself face down on your couch, staring into the black all night. Or wandering home, restless and chewing his fingers bloody for hours afterwards. He’s so antsy in a room filled with nothing but you and your things. He catches his fingers in a door once out of impulse, trying desperately to shove away the urge to pick up a little statuette from some sudden uncontrollable kleptomaniac urge, and you notice and fuss and soothe and suddenly he has the desperate urge to smash something and take it to his skin and he wonders if you would stitch it together and kiss it afterwards. Kyle keeps the bandage. He sits on the couch and stares through the tv and thinks about it and he can’t bring himself to look at you because if he does, that unnamed, unknowable buzzing under his skin promises something and he’s too scared of himself to find out.

In his apartment it’s better. Kyle can cling to himself, a better man, a good man, when it’s soft and more controlled. You’re comfortable among his things and he doesn’t feel the drive to take the place around him apart. It feels like someone has taken a hot knife to him when you leave, which is fine. He counts the days before it’s too needy and strange to ask again. When he gives you back the hoodie, it smells like the two of you and he fibs about finding it under the couch while cleaning. Kyle digs his nails into his arm under the coffee table when you ask about his day and he wonders wildly if you knew about it. He wants to show you the marks on his arm, prick tears into his eyes and have you soothe him, but Kyle knows better than that. He doesn’t have a response to your inevitable questions. It’s not weird for him to want to seek the affection either. He’s like everybody else in this, starved for attention and cradling the source of it. He’s just smart enough to not grip too tightly and bruise you.

[chaoticace2005]

Why Alastor has a cane:

1. It doubles as a microphone and looks cool.

2. It’s a power tool that he has to carry around to maintain his strength.

3. Gives him an air of authority.

4. He heard Lucifer had a cane. He needed a better one. Alastor’s has multiple functions!!

5. It’s just the style!

6. Lilith gave it to him and said he’s never to let it out of his sight.

7. It’s his emotional support cane.

8. The cane owns his soul. He has to carry it around where ever he goes as part of their deal.

9. Lucifer broke his ankle once when he kicked him. He has to use the cane for support.

10. That cane is actually sinners whose soul he owns. This is the final form of the first soul he owned. He took their energy until they became one with him and an inanimate object. Now this is where he keeps all the souls he contracts, taking more energy from them until they too become one with the cane. Husk is next :)

11. He was shipwrecked on an island. Completely alone (after eating everyone) he found the cane and named it “Wilson”, developing a parasocial relationship with it. Wilson died but when Alastor went to hell they were waiting for him.

12. When he fell to Hell he landed the wrong way and now his knee is perpetually messed up.

13. Husk told him he should “talk to somebody” so Alastor just grabbed the cane and said “fine.” The cane is now his therapist and he talks to it when he’s alone. His voice keeps everyone up at night.

14. Twisted his ankle from his heeled boots.

15. That bitch Susan seemed to think she was all that because of her cane.

16. It’s his pet.

17. It’s his one true love and the only thing that actually understands him.

18. He thinks his mother got cursed “Beauty and the Beast” style and turned into that cane. Whether this is actually the case remains to be seen.

19. ITS A BOMB

20. It acts a device to scramble signals, which is why he can’t be captured on camera.

21. So if he comes across something gross he can simply push it away with his cane.

22. Automatic weapon when you’re in a jam.

23. So he can say “STICKS and stones may break your bones!” as he torture and kills someone.

24. So he’s always show ready!

25. He just has chronic pain okay?! YOU try living over a hundred years, being a serial killer, and then getting shot!

26. The microphone actually gives off some feedback that is unbearable to some demons (like Husk) as another way to torture them.

27. The cane is actually Alastor. The body we thought was Alastor is being puppeteered by the cane.

28. It’s a palisman he stole from Emperor Belos and has been trying to keep hidden since someone ate all the others.

29. Vox once said canes were outdated and tacky, so of course Alastor had to prove him wrong.

30. It was a gift from Rosie!

31. So he has even more reach to wack the wings of flying ex-Angels.

32. It’s his soulmate.

33. You know those little blankets little kids carry around with them? The ones they’ll freak out if they’re missing. Yeah it’s like that.

34. He has crippling depression.

35. His therapist told him he needed to get some supports in his life.

36. It’s been the only one there to SUPPORT him this whole time. At this point he has to keep caney around. He’s moved so much in life with them, so to leave them behind would be immobilizing.

[hrryshoney]

girlie getting stressed or overstimulated and matty gives her foot, head, back, boob massage then starts fingering her<3

anon i think this is the greatest idea i’ve ever heard. yes, you are so genius.

You came in the door and immediately dropped your bag on the floor. A sigh falling from your lips as you kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your sweater. To say you had a bad day would be a gross understatement. Everyone at your job was aggravating you, and you couldn’t take another day of it.

You had to hide away in the bathroom earlier so you didn’t cry from anger, and now you just wanted to decompress. As you stepped into the living room, you saw Matty scrolling on his phone laid out on the couch. When he heard your footsteps approach, he immediately sat up. Putting his phone down, opening his arms for a hug.

You all but ran to him, immediately collapsing into his arms and wrapping your own around him. “Hi, love.” He squeezed you into the embrace, feeling you melt into him. He took his hand and rubbed the back of your head. “Everything alright?” Matty’s lips were close to your ear, and you could feel his breath fan across your face. You shook your head, and he poured before pressing a kiss to your temple. “What’s wrong, angel?”

“Oh, don’t get me started. Everything is wrong.” You let your forehead rest on Matty’s shoulder and closed your eyes. You didn’t care if you were being dramatic. You had a horrible day, and a horrible week at this point. All you wanted to do was turn your brain off and relax. “And my boss is a dick. I’m so over it. I need a spa day or some shit.” You chuckled through your sigh, at least trying to find some humor in the situation.

Matty pulls away from you, pressing kisses all over your face. “You know,” He starts, positioning you between his legs. His hands found their place on your shoulders, pressing into your pressure points with his thumbs. “I’ve been told I’m very good with my hands. Could be your personal masseuse.” You find yourself nodding your head already, succumbing to how good his hands feel on you. Practically melting your stress away.

Matty’s strong hands rub across the expanse of your shoulders and neck, fingers even coming up to massage your temples. You have your eyes closed, simply enjoying what he’s giving you. He flipped you over on the couch, straddling your waist so he could spot even more pressure on your back. Eventually, you ended up with your shirt lifted. Matty’s hands working on your bare skin.

“Feels good. Can you work the middle of my back?” Your words were muddled from your face pressed against the couch cushion. Matty could still make out your request, though. He bunched your shirt up even more so that most of your back was out. He got his hands back on you, pressing down with the palms of his hands.

After a while you felt his movements halt, and Matty stirring behind you. He spoke up, “Can I unclip your bra? Just so it’s more comfy, you know.” His fingers toyed with the clasp of your bra, other hand still rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. You let out an appreciative noise.

You nodded your confirmation almost instantly. “Yeah, whatever works. Don’t mind.” Your body practically deflated when Matty’s hands deftly unclipped your bra with little struggle. He pulled it out from under you, discarding it to somewhere on the floor. You felt like you could breathe again, and your shoulders were able to relax. His thumbs smoothed the indents that your bra had left on your skin.

As you lay on the couch, Matty’s hands started to sneak around the sides of your body. You felt his fingers crawl up the mounds of your breasts. He pressed lightly into the sides, the soft skin molding under his touch. His palms were basically cupping your breasts now, and you gasped at the stimulation on your nipples. His fingers skillfully stroked the skin around your areolas. “Pretty girls should never have to be stressed. Only worry you should have is my hands on your body.” Matty rolled your nipples between either of his thumb and index finger.

He squeezed your boobs again, and you moaned out beneath him. You could feel Matty’s strong thighs squeeze your sides at the noise you made. He continued to rub your breasts, hands occasionally slipping upward or downward. Allowing himself to rub your upper chest and neck, and the area right under your boobs. “So, so perfect.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your mid back.

“More, please.” You arched your back into his touch, the stimulation on your nipples igniting arousal between your thighs. You felt Matty’s weight disappear from your back. The next thing you knew, he was on his knees in front of you.

“C’mon, then. Sit up for me.” You obeyed, getting in sitting position on the couch. You felt vulnerable, top and bra already off as Matty was infront of you fully clothed. The feeling doubled when he began to slide your sweats off your body. You were left in your simple panties now, Matty not even paying them any mind. He started massaging your calves and thighs, then working his way down to your feet.

As he rubbed your legs, you tried (and failed) to hide the fact that you were squeezing your thighs together. Your nipples were still hard from his earlier attention, and he kept rubbing dangerously close to your inner thighs. Though, of course Matty knew. He was holding your legs in his hands, and he could feel the way your muscles flexed under his touch. “Matty, please.”

“What, baby?” He smirked, leaving in to kiss your upper thigh. You could feel the teasing smile against your skin, and you could hear it in his tone. “Need me to make everything better? Make you so dumb, only thing you can think about is me?” His fingers gripped your thighs harder, dancing closer to the waistband of your panties. You held back from bucking your hips, instead squirming on the couch. You nodded your head profusely.

“Yes, please.” You let your head hit the back of the couch, closing your eyes tightly. “I need it so bad, need you so bad.” You bit your lip so hard you thought it’d bleed. Matty’s fingers were now circling the crotch of your underwear. You couldn’t stop the mind from slipping out of your mouth. You were sure there was a wet spot forming. You whined through gritted teeth. “Please, Matty. Need to feel good, you’re the only one who gets me there.” At that, his thumb comes to press down on top of your bundle of nerves above your panties. Your hips grind up into his fingers, trying to relieve the pulsing in your clit.

Matty moves his palm up your stomach, fiddling with the elastic of your waistband so he can push his hand beneath your panties. You let your knees fall open, giving him access to the bare sensitive mound between your thighs. He feels the warm heat radiating off your cunt as he cups his hand on your sex. You jolt against the couch, and Matty lets out a breath of his own as he slides his middle fingers through your tight slit.

You squirm as he runs his fingers through your folds, his thick fingers rubbing through your slit to find your bundle of nerves. Searching to strike your clit so he has your dripping down his hand.

Matty can feel how slick you are, and he draws tight circles on your clit. His fingers feel like heaven, and you let your mouth fall open to let out the loud moans you’ve been holding back. Your body writhes as you suddenly feel another one of his fingers join the other, gravitating towards your hole. His fingers meet at your entrance, sliding inside of you to stretch you out.

Your hips meet the rhythm of his hand, meeting the thrusts he’s making with his fingers. The calluses on his fingers creating an even more delicious friction. “That’s it. Lemme fuck you dumb, let that brain leak out through your cunt. Shouldn’t even have to work, right baby?” He groans, letting his cheek rest on your thigh. The cool skin making you gasp as it comes in contact with your warm body. “Yeah, should just stay home and get your pussy stuffed all day.”

The warmth forming in your abdomen was starting to go throughout your entire body. You could feel the white hot pleasure permeating your senses. “Matty, please. Need it so fucking bad.” You stuttered out through ragged breaths, his fingers never stopping their assault. Your voice coming out as a raw whine. Matty’s hand pressed down roughly on your clit. His two fingers continued to stretch your hole. “Don’t stop, I’m so close.”

Matty’s pupils were completely dilated. His face was so close to your pussy, and he watched as his own fingers worked you to an orgasm. Matty blew out a puff of air from his lips, making you shiver as you felt it fan across your cunt. Your walls clenched around his fingers. “I’ve got you, baby. Breathe. Cum for me, let go.”

His words pushed you over, the gravel in his voice making your toes curl. Your orgasm racked through your body with a shudder, and you squirmed as he fucked you through it with his fingers. Your orgasm was pulsing relentlessly, and Matty’s fingers wouldn’t stop moving. When you finally stop shivering, Matty pulls his fingers out of you and instantly brings them to his mouth. Licking your juices off his digits.

You looked at him, surely looking like you got struck by lightning. He took a lot out of you, and it really was unwinding. Matty got off his knees, bending to kiss your forehead. You looked down at the very obvious tent in his pants, but he rubbed your shoulder. “Gonna go run us a bath, angel. Join me when you’re ready.” His hand came to your chin, pulling you in for a kiss that you happily reciprocated.

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

I’M STUCK ON THIS FUCKING PLANET. I’M STUCK ON THIS GODDAMN EARTH.

Tap photo for better quality

That’s right!! I’m talking even more about sinner bodies because I’m CRAZY!!! RAAHHH!! 🤪 SHES SO CRAZY WE CANT TAKE HER ANYWHERE!! 😝 it’s 3 in the morning and I can’t stop thinking about this goddamn TV.

I think Vox is genuinely the most fucked up character in this rewrite currently. Not really morally fucked up, there’s definitely worse people, but physical alterations in hell out of the main cast he definitely has it the worst. In my last post I talked about how Angel formed in hell and I want to go back to this because Vox did not form in hell as a TV or even a robot at all. He got formed on the road after dying in a car crash and was literally just this fucked up clump of wires and metal panels and had gross little robot hands and he had to make everything else himself and wait for his body to adjust to it, so he literally cannot regenerate normally. He didn’t even have a face yet or screen of any kind, just a little camera to see out of. If his screen shatters he needs to get a new one or if his body breaks he needs to get it repaired, thats why he’s able to upgrade his body and stuff.

And like yeah some tech sinners do just form as robots but Vox just is a fucking mess and I think about it all the time and thats why his demon form is all fucked up like that and I think thats partially another reason he hates Alastor’s ideals so much sometimes because hes like “technology bad!” even though he literally is also partially a tech sinner and hes just stupid but like without technological advancements Vox literally would have nothing like they wouldn’t’ve met, Vox would not have a company, etc, etc and thatd probably help a lot of people yeah like the Vees would not fucking exist but ignoring that, just on a personal relationship scale I imagine your “friend” being like “man I really hate the thing that gives you life and allows you to live a somewhat normal existence” hurts a bit.

Technological regeneration is a bit more confusing and hard to explain than biological regeneration since machinery can’t really “heal” in real life. The concept sounds almost bewildering, like you can’t cut a wire and have it slowly heal like skin would, you’d need a whole new wire. But Vox internally, the things that allow him to move and live how he does now, it’s the only part of him that he can heal, and to him, it’s still “defective”.

Vox is disabled mentally and physically; he has Autism, ADHD, and epilepsy, all of which he is unable to be medicated for due to his new body. These are all things that he hates to acknowledge and will become irrationally upset by if they are mentioned to the point he will actively to deny certain aspects of disability. Being a man from the 1900’s-1950’s his views on mental disabilities and mental illnesses are… less than uh.. “acceptable” for today’s standards. He often disregards slurs towards this being called slurs and insists that “They used to just be words” or “It’s a medical diagnosis.” yet still gets incredibly upset when he is ever called a slur that actually could apply to him. In a way he tries to come off as purposely ableist so that he doesn’t have to confront this aspect of himself that he doesn’t understand. His knowledge in technology or sharks or economics aren’t “special interests” to him, they’re just “regular things a man likes”. He can’t process what a hyperfixation is. He doesn’t know that it’s normal for him to be unable to speak on occasion or that certain textures make him severely uncomfortable. These are either seen as weaknesses or “average people things”. Aside from how terribly disabled people were treated back around the 50’s, he views the neurodiverse aspect of his mind as something that only serves to further push him from grasping the feeling of regular humanity again.

For physical disabilities, he doesn’t lie or deny that he has epilepsy, yes he has an intense disdain for mentioning it, but for very few people he is close with he will disclose this information to them privately. There are a very select few people that are aware of this and two of those people are Velvette and Alastor. This post isn’t really about diving into Vox’s epilepsy so I’m keeping this concise because I have another post to put all of that in. Hope you all enjoy the wacky art :)

The binary says “Trust us” for anyone curious

[supernaturalistthings]

Season 4 Dean Winchester Headcanons

Lazarus Rising- Having a reunion with Dean after hell. You wouldn't believe it's him at first but after reassurance from Bobby and Sam you’d run into each other's arms. He'd be holding back tears while holding you like he needed you to breathe, and THE KISS? The kiss is magical and mixed with tears because you just can't believe you got the love of your life back. The relief you both feel is top tier. “Don't worry baby i got you” But really you'd have him and you know this is the start of a hard road of recovery for him.

Are you there God? It's me Dean Winchester- comforting and reassuring him after his fight with the ghosts of Meg and Hendrikson. Slowly running your hands through his hair and singing his praises because he deserves that. 

Monster Movie- You’d accompany the boys on this case and actually be the one to get taken by the “vampire”. Once Dean fights to get you back safe you'd laugh at the shifter together after everything is said and done and just be in awe of your lives and the things that happen.

Yellow Fever- You'd also be on this case with the boys. You'd comfort Dean about his ghost sickness and promise to keep him safe from any angsty teenagers that come your way. He really believes you and clings to you for any comfort he can get. You and Sam do the heavy lifting on the case, sharing the load of your worries about Dean together. You can't help but giggle a little when he gets scared of the cat jumping out of the storage thing. Vowing to tease him for it later, and you do when he's okay. “I had freaking ghost sickness okay?! Let that cat try it now and see how little I care…” he'd say.

Wishful Thinking- He wishes for you to be right there with him which results in the sudden urge for you to drive for hours to get to him. The downside of the curse is that you were not happy about the drive or being mind controlled by a coin so you're livid when you show up. Of course when the curse is broken you both laugh at the whole thing together and needless to say he’ll do ANYTHING to make it up to you;)

The Monster at the End of This Book- You’re shocked to learn that you and your boyfriend are full frontal in a book “youve got to be kidding me” was all you could say. You'd be even more shocked to learn that you have fans and they are “shipping” you and Dean. You'd be grossed out to find out that people also “ship” you and Sam. “Ewww” you'd both let out in unison. “Yeah it better be eww” Dean would huff out in disgust with an added eye roll.  Dean would secretly re read the chapters where it talks about your feelings towards him, he secretly loves that its written by a prophet how much you love and care for him. It's a huge reassurance.

When the Levee Breaks- You help him try to detox Sam and are there to calm him down when he's alone. He doesn't tell you that he gave himself over to the angels wanting to enjoy his last moments with you. You constantly have a hand on him and just hold him through the whole Sam demon blood detox telling him it's going to be okay no matter what happens.

Lucifer Rising- You're on Dean's side with the whole Ruby thing of course, you always saw through her and got the feeling she was just trying to manipulate Sam for some reason. You were with Bobby when Dean was teleported to the angels and you both were freaking out knowing there was nothing you guys could do. You sat with him panicked, waiting on any signs of life from either of them. Cas pops in to reassure you guys that Dean is somewhere safe which does nothing for the both of you and you freak out telling him to bring him back which then Cas just vanishes with no answers. Eventually Sam and Dean turn up pretty beat up. You're beyond pissed at Sam when you hear the whole story. You're beyond worried when you hear Dean say the devil is out and it's their problem.

[storm-angel989]

can i request headcanons for being Valentino and Vox's daughter ? Thank you and stay hydrated ♡

GREAT Request!

I’ve never actually written something like this before, so forgive me. I’ve spent much more time thinking about Valentino’s daughter than Vox’s daughter and have written more for the former, so obviously Val’s daughter is much more developed. This is more of a sketched out list, so forgive any tense issues or grammar errors! Also disclaimer: these can change, evolve and adapt with each passing story <3 

If any of these headcanons catch your eye, feel free to drop a request! I’m always taking them- this month has just been incredibly busy. I appreciate the reminder to stay hydrated, I needed it!!

Looking forward to the summer when I have a bit more time for all of the writing things! In the meantime, keep them coming. Whenever I get a request, it goes right into a google doc. Most of the time when inspiration hits, content gets scribbled into that google doc until I have time to edit and sort it out…so just because there is a delay, doesn’t mean it won’t get done! And inspiration hits in the most random of places <3

Headcanons for being Valentino’s daughter (whose mom is half angel wife from OTO)

-For the most part you grew up normal (well as much as you can with a living in the V tower)

-There was always someone there to snuggle or play with, and always someone willing to put a bandaid on a boo boo

-Your Daddy gave the best snuggles and hugs and you took over your parents bedroom until you were six

-Even after, you insisted at least one adult lay down with you until you feel asleep until you hit your teenage years 

-When you’re sick you go to Valentino first, which is a good thing because of all the gross things little kids do, he handles it the best. You once overheard him compare a sick toddler to a drunk adult.  

-When you’re little little, you love listening to your family’s heartbeat. That feeling of safety along with a warm bottle usually puts you right to sleep. 

-Vox was your primary babysitter, and it wasn’t unusual to fall asleep in his arms, under his desk or even in his chair while he worked. He often conducted meetings and held you while you slept. 

-You’re known for sneaking out of bed and more than once you’ve been found asleep on the couch and carried back to bed. 

-You secretly think your Dad makes the best pancakes but you don’t want to hurt your Uncle Vox’s feelings

-Neither Mommy nor Daddy let you in their studios 

-You were always welcome in Velvette or Vox’s studio as long as you followed directions and kept away from Vark and the rest of your Uncles sharks

-Your Dad gave you no shortage of love and affection 

-Though it was really your Uncle Vox that spoiled you 

-You were never allowed to visit Valentino at work, and on the rare occasions you did end up on the fourth floor, he quickly escorted you away

- it wasn’t until you were in your teens that you made a connection between your fathers job and his role in the porn and drug industry 

-You never questioned where babies came from, and all four of your guardians insisted on calling body parts by their proper names. All of these things were fact and nothing more.  

-The doctors office was never scary, and all appointments were handled either at home or in Valentino’s studio well after hours. 

-The first time you got your period, you freaked until your father calmed you down. 

-Annoyingly, you had to wear a location tracker at all times. Valentino refused to put one under your skin without your consent, even for your own safety, so when you started to leave the tower to go to school, Vox created a special tracking watch just for you 

-One time you got fed up with your teacher and called Uncle Vox on your watch to tell him to come get you. He does. 

-Being Vox’s niece, you learned to hack that watch when you turned thirteen. After all you never could go anywhere without someone being on your ass. All you wanted was privacy. 

-When you did eventually start dating, Valentino insisted on meeting each date when they came to pick you up, regardless of their gender. If he didn’t like them, you didn’t go out. You suspected he showed his gun on more than one occasion. 

-And there were more than a few times you didn’t get to go out.  

-You tried to get a fake ID at sixteen when you started to rebel. Unfortunately for you between your father and your uncle every single bar and club was controlled by them and the first time you tried to use it was your last time. And you got grounded. Big time. 

-Once you turned twenty one though, all bets were off. As much as you didn’t like that your family knew all, it was sort of comforting to know that wherever you were, you were protected. And by that point, you were doing pretty okay. 

-The first time you intentionally tried one of Valentino’s drugs was the last time.

-You still went to school every day, but Valentino had no issue with you taking a mental health day when needed

-You had your appendix out when you were younger

-Homework needed to be done before anything else, every single night. Your usual routine was to come in, go right to Uncle Vox’s office and do your homework with him. He keeps a stash of kid friendly snacks in his bottom drawer, and promises to keep the cheese itz coming if you don’t tell your dad.

-You hate that Vox makes you try each problem three times before asking for help, but you respect his method because you respect him

-The food kept in the house was generally high quality and healthy. Not to say there isn’t junk food, but the adults eat pretty healthily and by default as such so do you. 

-When you stop eating however, in a desperate effort to look like one of the model’s in your Aunt Velvette’s magazine, your father catches you very, very quickly. 

-You struggle with balancing the angelic and demonic parts of you. This shows up hard in the teenage years with instances of ED’s, Depression, Anxiety, self harm, poor decision making etc. 

-Valentino definitely brought you home from his clubs on more than one occasion. 

-You got alcohol poisoning/overdosed a few times. Thankfully, Valentino was always there to rescue you. The final time it happened, the expression on your father’s face ensured you never crossed that line again. 

-When you self harm for the first time, it’s Vox who catches you. 

-They will not allow you to hurt yourself, but they do their best to support and love you through every single mistake

-You demand perfection of yourself far, far more than they expect of you 

Headcanons for being Vox’s daughter 

-Vox tried to put a chip in your arm the day you were born, but Valentino took it out. 

-Intelligent? You could hack any device by the time you were ten. It was a struggled for Vox to keep ahead of your nonsense. 

-Stubborn as all heck. If you want something you’re gonna get it. Period.

-You had coffee in your hand by the time you were thirteen. As much as it freaked your father out, your Uncle Valentino helped you figure out the right cream/sugar/coffee ratio 

-Vox shooed all questions about womanhood to Velvette/Valentino/Wife and although he tries hard to understand and learn about the female body, you’re well aware he’s uncomfortable with it. Thankfully, your Uncle Valentino reassures you it's alright. 

-You are not at all into sports, though Valentino does force you to play on a team after catching you in one of his clubs. You were not terrible, and he does not have mercy on you. 

-Your Dad keeps a careful eye on your grades, and forces you to try each problem three times before asking for help

-The day your Uncle Valentino caught you working in his club was the most embarrassing moment of your life

-You definitely went through an emo phase