#one day i will be brave enough to draw dicks

[queercontrarian]

a month or so ago i did a little azris drawing that is not explicit but also not pg and so i kept it in the confines of discord. but now the wonderful @jules-writes-stories has written a wonderful scene inspired by this drawing and so i shall no longer hold it hostage

you can now find the horny fuckers under the cut

okay thank you for your attention bye

[cupcakeinat0r]

Thinkin' abt DadBod!Miguel at the gym <3

You'd been going to the gym routinely, or at least trying to. You decided to go after working up the courage and convincing yourself that this was just for fun. That your body was your temple, and you were tending to it, no matter how it looked <3

The first week wasn't so bad. After embarrassingly tripping on equipment or accidentally dropping weights here and there, it was alright! Though at times, it was still difficult to stay consistent, until one day, you saw him.

Over on the other side of the gym, curling some dumbbells (100s, mind you), was a total 6-foot, thick, hairy dream of a man. You first noticed his chiseled face adorned by fine lines, locks of black hair framing it. With each draw of the weights, his biceps bulged. Beads of sweat trickled down his bulky chest and wide shoulders. When your eyes wander downward, you're surprised to not find washboard abs.

Oh no, what you find instead excites you even more than any pack of abs could offer you.

Your mouth waters slightly to find that his tank top has ridden up slightly over his hefty belly, graciously allowing a peek at a happy trail, its path sadly blocked by some basketball shorts (his cute bubble butt and giant dick print made up for it tho).

Despite his low, breathy grunts and intense crimson gaze towards his own reflection, he was making it look easy. You thought about how easy it'd probably be for him to carry you bride-style and throw you onto a bed before spreading your legs with those enormous hands so he could feast until your eyes crossed. Or how it'd be effortless for him to hold you tightly with your legs wrapped around that stocky midsection of his while he bullied his-

"'scuse me, you waiting for this bench?" a deep voice snaps you out of a daydream. You see the man is now looking at you with what looks like a knowing smirk. Fuck, he noticed you staring.

"Oh! N-no, was just looking for the 10s!" You blurt, evoking a velvety chuckle and dashing smile from him.

"Right over there." He motions with his chin toward the weight rack where the 10s are obviously displayed. After you thanked him, He smiled and nodded back to you, turning back toward the mirror to do his last set.

The second week felt like no problem. Instead of dragging yourself to the gym, you looked forward to it, scanning for your new gym crush every time you entered.

You'd feel a lil surge of happiness when you do find him there, feeling brave enough to exchange smiles and sometimes even little waves from across the gym. One time, the older man made you swoon when he winked at you upon entering the gym. After seeing your cute reaction, this would be how he greeted you every time.

The third week came You're at the squat rack, feeling stronger than usual, so you opt to go the heaviest you've ever gone. Big mistake. By the third rep, you fail to get back up, panicking and legs shaking. Just when you feel yourself start to fall, you see a pair of hands dart toward the bar from behind you, lifting it with ease and allowing you to stand back up. The bar is re-racked and you turn to find gym bae.

"You okay?" he gently prompts, a worried look on his face.

"Yes, thank you... think I might've gone too heavy." you nervously chuckle. He does as well, seeing that you're alright.

"Next time you go for a PR, you need to ask for a spotter, hun." He gives you that dashing smile again, his hands on his love handles.

"Yeah, I probably should've," you lower your head in defeat, "I didn't bring anyone with me though."

"You could've asked me," He says matter of factly as if it should've been obvious that he should be the one to spot you. "I would've done it with no problem, mama." His pet names make your womanhood pulse.

You look back up at him, your lips curled into a shy smile.

"C'mon, let's try again." "No, no, mama, I got that, I'll put it away for you." "Keep your knees like this-theeeere you go. "Gimme one more, mama, just one more, you can do it." "Atta girl! Good job, mamita."

You learned that his name is Miguel. He'd become your designated spotter on leg days, the sensation of his larger frame against yours making you nervous in the best way.

Your favorite is when his tummy accidentally brushes against your back, and borderline, your ass, and if not his tummy, it'd be his prominent bulge (which isn't there bc he gets to spot the adorable girl with an amazing ass from the gym... totally not that).

On the Fourth week, Miguel would ask you if you wanted to be workout buddies altogether. Of course, you accept, in which he asks for your number so like that, he can text you when he's going and vice versa.

It's the fifth week, and you both have worked out together a couple times already. Miguel texted you in the morning asking if you'd like to join him, which you were totally down for.

You two started with lateral pull-downs. Once it was your turn, you sat on the machine and reached for the handle, pulling it as you began your set.

Anytime you felt like you wanted advice or correction, Miguel eagerly helped you.

His hands would stay on your waist, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Mhm, there you go, you're doin' so good, mama." He praises in almost a whisper.

If only he knew he was making the exercise only harder. As if that weren't enough, his finger would occasionally message your hip. Your bodies were so close that you were able to hear each satisfied hum from his lips, suggesting you were doing the exercise right.

"Good girl, that was better. You feel it now?" He says, letting go to let you off the machine.

"Yeah, thank you! When it comes to upper body, I'll need all the help I can get. I'm just glad I’m getting it from an upper-body master." You flirtatiously add, playfully poking at one of his biceps.

This makes him blush, but only for a moment before he returns with a cocky response, "Thanks, hun. I'm glad to be working out with a leg-day goddess."

Now it was your turn to blush, except you didn't have any smart comeback, boosting Miguel's ego.

"Listen, let me treat you to smoothie after this, yeah?" He says it more like a statement than a request, and you happily oblige.

What you were expecting was a simple, cheap smoothie from a spot you usually go to, but instead, you're met with a drive-thru menu listing shakes from $20 and up. Oh he got moneyyyy.

Miguel tells you to pick any that looks good to you. He orders for himself and you as well, parking the car once the two of you get the smoothies.

As he sips from the cup, you take the opportunity to subtly glance at his figure, his muscles, how his pecs sit beautifully on top of his soft belly, his thighs constrained by the confines of his gym shorts. You think how badly you wanna sit there, grinding on the print 'til there was a wet spot-

"Something on your mind, mama?" You look back at him, taking a few seconds to register his words.

You hastily look back down at your drink and shake your head, “Nothing… thank you so much for this, it’s delicious!”

then he grabs the shoulder of your chair to lean toward you, “Of course, mama, but I don’t think you’re being completely truthful with me, hm?”

You look at him, playfully shaking your head again, knowing full well you’ve been caught.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, hm? dime.” He puts the smoothie into the cup holder to free his other hand, placing it on your thigh, and softly squeezes it. “Just say the word, and you’ll get anything you want.”

Your lips curl slyly as you think of a response.

“Well… we never did cardio.”

Now you were here in his car, being bounced on his fat dick on the passenger seat, holding onto his his big shoulders for dear life. You were basically his fleshlight at this point… with those big hands.

You could feel his body now taut against yours, your tits bouncing relentlessly, his muscled, thick thighs below your ass, his balls slapping against your pussy lips, his bush tickling your clit, his pelvis pushing your ass up and his curved belly against your front side. It all was sending you into euphoria.

With you vigorously bouncing on his cock and his beautiful moaning, you fully let go. “Aw yes, Daddy,“ you mumbled without thinking.

In fact, you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was this fat cock and your pussy was memorizing all its veins and curves.

“Mmfuck baby, yea, say that again f’me”, he groaned through gritted teeth as he mercilessly bounced you down his painfully hard shaft.

“Please, Daddy, please!” You whined with your hands desperately seeking support on his big shoulders.

You can feel the sheet of sweat on his belly and on his thighs, which turned the smacking of your ass sound even more lewd.

“Fuck, say it again.” He growled, getting faster now.

“Mmmm, Daddy— Daddy, pleaseeee.”

“Louder, baby, c’mon—“

“UNGH DADDYYYY”

“Oh FUCK… you wanted cardio, baby, I’ll give you cardio… fuckin’ take it… coño.” Your panting became synchronized with every pound of his cock into your abused and bruised cunt, getting higher and higher in pitch, firing him up to go faster and harder.

“Gonna cum on this fat cock, right? Gonna cum f’me, mami?” He ordered, dropping octaves from his usual gentle tone with you.

“Mmmnn, Nnyesyyesyesyes—“ you babbled, the shakiness of your voice the result of the aggressive bouncing.

“Ah… carajo…” his cock accidentally slips out from your cunt, making you wince from the sudden empty sensation.

Holding up your ass, he takes a moment to admire the view, hissing from the sight of his angrily red cock and veins pulsing from your cunt sucking him in so deliciously. A ring of your cream erotically placed at the base of his length, just above his perfect bush. He guides his fat tip back to your dripping cunt using his thumb, pushing it back into your swollen folds.

He was back to ramming into your abused cunt in no time, chasing each others high’s.

“C’mon…fuck, c’mon, mama, you’re almost there…. Aw f-fuck… almost there…” he moans with his brows knitted and through a clenched jaw.

“Daddy I’m g’na— I’m cummingimcummingimcumming—“

“Aw, fuck, asi— asi mami— ah, ah…” Miguel holds back choked whines as he get closer, not allowing himself to let go until he knew you came first.

You speak in gibberish before crying into your climax, Miguel letting out a long, exasperated groan when he reaches his. You can feel his hot cum overfilling you, making you whine as it leaks down your thigh.

After draining himself completely, making sure every drop was in you, he gently pulls out, “Fuck… you did so good for me, mama… so good.”

Miguel lets you rest against his heaving chest and soft belly, rubbing your back as you caught your breath. You smiled a tired smile when you notice how hard Miguel is breathing as well, knowing you worked him out, too.

“You ok, mamita?” He plants a tender kiss on your shoulder, making a trail up your neck and finally to your forehead.

“Mhm,” you hum, you look up at him and are met with his plump, wet lips, tongues becoming entangled with each other as he groans into your mouth.

“I say… we do cardio like this every day.”

A/n: Haiii, I hope u liked it <3 Love my man sm <3 None of my gym baes could ever compare to himmmmm😭😭😭

@angel-of-the-moons Ty Ty Ty my luv for planting the seed in my head <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

[theoxenfree]

LUCID

sleep paralysis demon x reader | 3k | 18+

you've never known a true, good night of sleep in your entire life. when your doctor and best friend, dr. sujay patel, offers to vouch for you as the perfect candidate for a "last resort" sleep study and medication trial, you don't have high hopes. the first night of the trial, things go sideways very quickly.

warnings; technically somnophilia, dubcon, hair-pulling, restraint, some eerie/unsettling details, breech of patient-doctor boundaries, alcoholism, implied addiction/addictive personality, academic cheating, some culturally sensitive discussion, roughly proofread.

this is the first concept piece for my upcoming sleep paralysis demon x reader story!! to help me shape the story, pls answer feedback questions + reblog!!!

Children at your daycare liked to draw you fanciful pictures of the other lives they lived in their dreams during afternoon nap time. You were shown orange tabby cats with green eyes garbed in full-plates of knight’s armor, brandishing a fish sword against a foe to save the world. Most often, they dreamed of their families and drew bright, brave versions of themselves holding hands with a parent, a sibling, a bipedal family dog with an electric collar. A few of the children never smiled in their self-portraits.

The proportions of everything were always silly: gigantic tree trunks with tiny, green bundles sitting atop of them, three enormous fruits supported by brittle vines and growth in bushes, cats and dogs with ears as tall as their bodies, Mom with purple skin instead of brown, Big Sis looking particularly volatile with a theratrically large snarl. Despite this, the children beamed in pride whenever yesterday's drawings would come down off the wall to be replaced with the new.

For some of these kids, this was their own equivalent of having art hung on a refrigerator; to you, it evoked dull, thready jealousy because they were in possession so simple, so biologically normal to them and everyone else around them that to be incapable of the same thing was, surely, a major defect.

Sleep was already a treasure you were seldom allotted the pleasure of greedily surrendering to, but to dream sounded like a terrifying experience to you altogether. It took work; a stringent routine of warm showers (hot and scalding water was forbidden), with an array of chalky, dissolvable tabs and shower gels and shampoos and moisturizers and essential oil dehumidifiers and soy candles and hot tea and special pillow sleep spray you’d seen in an online ad while thumbing through socials.

It took pajamas that were loose, soft but not silky, it took a satin bonnet and a satin eye covering (the kind with pockets for your eyelashes to move), comforters soused in lavender spray meant to magically work out the tightness in your shoulders and calves without the need of paying for a masseuse’s bony elbow. It took purchasing a battery-operated alarm clock to wake yourself for work so you could shut off your phone and leave it plugged into the wall downstairs.

You'd nearly forgotten—you couldn't have sugar after half past six, you had to stagger your water consumption after that time as well because the urge to piss would keep you awake for hours after the fact. The television needed to be off once you finished putting away dishes after dinner.

If you were lucky, this would work and you'd sleep a total of two or three hours uninterrupted—never fully tipping over the edge of wakefulness into deep sleep, but enough to keep yourself going during the day, grocery shop, wrangle the small children, scrape at a bar, get dicked down into your mattress every now and then, and visit Sujay for your usual appointments.

“How do you feel about trying something different?” he always gestured to one of the modern-looking armchairs upholstered in teal polyester before bringing you a tea of some sort. Today was a floral white tea with a spoonful of honey. “Ah, my friend, I worry for you. We've done so many studies, we've tried so many different things. Does none of it help? At all?”

“Not really.” you admitted after a sip, singing your tongue once and placing aside the cup and saucer pair. “I don't know if I can keep doing this until the day I die, Sujay. What do you recommend next?”

Dr. Sujay Patel was your neurologist, an utterly brilliant man, and a close friend from your early university days. Despite the rest of your friend group falling apart, pulled in separate directions by the strings of fate and temptation of money, you'd managed to stay in contact with Sujay throughout grad school. There'd been an intermission, probably a period of two years, where you'd forgotten he even existed.

You were out making a disaster of your life on sleepless, drunken benders because you hoped enough alcohol would either knock you out or kill you. The normal distractions came with it: your entire family dynamic corroding and combusting, an ex getting too big for their britches, and a roommate suspiciously eager to rally behind that ex.

Sujay came back into the picture following a nasty incident of alcohol poisoning that left you bedridden in the hospital for a week. You had decided then, in that uncomfortable bed with their starchy, crunchy white sheets and the bathroom being too far away to simply get up and walk to, that you'd abstain from alcohol forevermore.

He'd seen you in a state of soul-weary disarray not long after you were discharged and had decided to take you on as a patient.

“Now, you have a choice here, just remember that.” Sujay sat adjacent to you in the exact chair you were in. He wasn't daunted by the heat from his tea and took some time with it, whether to savor the subtle notes of it or to consider his words, you weren't sure. “But, a colleague of mine at a… pharmaceutical company has been working to get an experimental sedative into some studies. Testing periods, I guess you could say.”

You're convinced by his dedication to his tea to pick up yours again. “Does it work?”

“As of now, one-hundred percent of those who have participated have reported high-efficacy, or at least have claimed it to be effective in some manner.” His mustache moved as he sipped. You drank as well. “I think you should submit to the study and if you're accepted into one of the control groups—commit to it. We're running out of options otherwise. I don't want you to start mixing up your own cocktail of things. All it takes is the wrong thing once, y'know?”

The chair groaned while you adjusted your weight in it. You sighed. “Would that once be such a bad thing, though? At least I could sleep.”

“I'm a doctor,” Sujay looked over his square-rimmed glasses at you, forehead wrinkles enormous, whites of his eyes showing more than the hazel of his irises. “Behave yourself.”

“Fine.” Mesmerized by the stray tea leaves that had managed to escape the metal ball steeper, you said, “tell me what I need to do.”

Sujay had sent you away that day with a whole host of follow-up appointments and a glowing review to his colleague in hopes of skipping the line as much as possible. Sometimes, it was beneficial to have friends in high places, especially when that means you get a call two days later for preliminary, formal interviews and an offer to participate in said study once clearances came through and your blood work came back as desired.

A month to the day when Sujay first mentioned the possibility of a magical cure all to your relentless insomnia, you were brought into a minimally furnished room—the standard, bland cookie cutter type that hadn't an ounce of personality—dotted from head-to-toe in stickers for neuromonitoring, heart rhythm, and whatever else they fancied, you supposed.

It was only after you had changed into your soft, but not too soft, pajamas and covered in wires that you were handed a tiny purple pill. The color of it was obviously a dissolvable casing and food coloring, but what amazed you was the fact a drug this small was meant to induce the best sleep of your life.

“Take the pill, drink at least four ounces of water, and lie supine.” The technologists outside your room, speaking into an intercom, elaborated afterward that they wanted you to stay on your back while you slept. You didn't bother to point out that you weren't stupid—just tired. “We understand that not everyone finds this position comfortable, but to receive adequate results and to measure your vitals at all times, we ask that you try your best.”

You weren't going to hassle them about this and did precisely as they instructed. Shoved the pill down the back of your throat, drank the bottled water, and tried to get comfortable on your back.

You closed your eyes.

A part of you wondered why you had assented to Sujay’s suggestion so easily, especially where everything else had failed. He was one hell of a friend, and had always been that way for you, but as a doctor, you wondered if two years of cheating through medical school, so as to not royally piss off his parents and be disowned for failing, was finally catching up with him somewhat.

You recalled being startled when he told you he hadn’t married yet and didn't intend to as some deep-rooted act of spite against his family and the traditions they had held over his head all his life. Traditions that had been weaponized against him, rather than supplement his life as an extension of his history, of the things he loved, of a chance to explore more of himself.

You had listened wordlessly the entire time he spoke about it, still sipping on his tea, the results from your latest brain scan clamped to a clipboard on his lap—

This wasn't working.

This was so stupid.

You opened your eyes and sat up in the stiff bed, carefully maneuvering your fingers around your orbital bone to force away the puffiness and exhaustion still lingering behind them. It was only as you rubbed your eyes that you noticed your face was empty of cold stickers and a thousand wires. You didn't hear distant blips in the machine measuring your heart rate, nor track the voices of anyone outside your door.

The room was still the same—the outdated, bulky dresser with claw feet, a few gray chairs you could buy on display in a window somewhere, a low oval table, a bedside table for your glass of water and a crisp, neatly folded change of clothes for the next day.

It was only unusual that you were bare of the technologist’s monitoring equipment and sitting amid an unfaltering, deep silence that amplified the sounds of your very existence. Your slow breaths with a quickening heartbeat, blood pumping in your ears, and the coarse rustle of bedsheets as you shifted around the mattress to bring some sense to what was going on.

Would the technologists have come into the room and removed everything from your body without waking you? More miraculously, without you rousing and throwing your hands on them for touching you first?

“Maybe the drug worked?” you had to consider the possibility, even though it still felt as far-fetched as the holistic medicine practitioners online telling you that an herbal cleansing juice could regenerate organs entirely. “Did I actually sleep? I don't remember dreaming, though. Aren't I supposed to dream?”

You looked to the one, single-paned window across the bedroom to spy how far along the morning had progressed, but found yourself sucking in and holding in a breath instead.

There, standing in your view of the outside, was the silhouette of a tall man. Everything about him was indistinguishable aside from the depth of darkness that made him up. Within the confines of the dim room, alight by a single lamp with an amber bulb that seemed to weaken by the second, this man stood apart from the shadows as something deeper, blacker, but corporeal.

He was every bit a part of the dark as much as he wasn't. And you couldn't tell if he was fading you or turned to look out the window at the parking lot two stories below.

“Hi—hello. Are—are you one of the techs?” you had finally let out that breath, now focusing on gauging the guy’s level of sociability, and by extension, his friendliness and the likelihood of him lunging at you. “I, uh, just would've really appreciated it if someone had woken me up before taking off the stickers.”

You were able to see out the window from the gaps around his body, taking note that it was still dark. Very dark. Beyond that, nothing else was discernible from where you sat and what he blocked.

The study wouldn't have finished yet.

Those techs would've taken precaution to wake you up if something had happened.

“Am I asleep?” you asked the wordlese man. “Am I dreaming now? Are you a dream? Is that what it's like?

You never imagined that there could be so much lucidity within a dream, a level of consciousness so similar to a state of wakefulness. When you thought about moving, you could perfectly flex your fingers, curl your toes into the high-pile carpet underfoot, touch the airy fabric covering your body and feel it touching you in turn.

How normal was this really, though? No one had ever told you about dreams like this. Theirs were always fragmented and discombobulated, just like the kids in daycare who drew pictures of pig astronauts and flame extinguishing spatulas. You knew of a rare few in the population capable of controlling their dreams, steering the outcome in the direction they pleased, but even those people were overrode by their own brains.

This was something completely different.

You became especially convinced of this when you thought the stifled air suddenly shifted with a light breeze, a soft whoosh in your ear. A chill erupted over you, making your skin burst with goose flesh, your brain chasing a shiver down your spine as if cold fingers stroked you all the way down the length of it. Those same fingers stayed low, hovering across your lower back before pushing into you, arching you down onto the mattress.

That freedom you thought you had only moments ago was gone, stolen by this invisible hand on your body that was rounding to you and reaching for your chest. Until now, you thought this had simply been a part of the dream—something you had believed to be in control in when the reality was much different—but, as the buttons on your sleep shirt unfastened before your eyes, the thin layers opening you to the cold, inky air, you weren't sure what to think, to do.

Another hand joined the first with long, heavy fingers to knead at your body and take your pants off of your hips until you were fully exposed to the darkness and the thing still dwelling within the room. It hadn't moved an inch since you'd noticed it a while ago; it never became any clearer, any more defined in the clothes or wore, and trying to look upon its face only filled you with puzzlement and dread.

The large hands were so cold despite all their movement on your hot skin, all of the work they did to start riling you up and making you moan. One of them groped your chest, felt your throat, squeezed your jaw as though to force your gaze at one point in particular (the ceiling), pushed apart your lips to dip into your mouth and wet its fingers on your tongue.

You did so as it was the only thing you could do freely right now.

Those fingers, covered in your spit, caressed you between your legs, stroking you in motions neither gentle or harsh. The muscles in your thighs flinched, stomach tightening, your throat vibrating to produce a moan smothered by the second hand circling your throat, gripping firmly enough where you could breathe, but just barely.

The thing couldn’t stop your thoughts, as much as it seemed to try, so it took to interrupting them—distracting you but squeezing your neck, yanking your head back into the pillow by your hair, adjusting itself to thrust multiple fingers into your body, burying them to the knuckle.

You tried to win this war of willpower by thinking about Sujay and his mustache and his stupid glasses. They were green, sometimes blue; seldom did he like the tortoiseshell look.

The thing lunged at your neck again, this time taking you underside the jaw and forced your head back into the pillow while it fucked you deeper on three fingers.

You wanted to make a sound; a moan, a scream, a torturous whimper or pleasure for the way your body was rocked on the bed, creaking with the weight of a pair combined and not just how it appeared. Your nostrils flared, heart rate at an uneasy high, breaths stuck in the column of your throat behind the hand holding it.

The pressure continued to stack higher and higher, building to such a point where you knew you were about to lose it, unravel, praying that this thing would grant you the kindness of fucking you out of your orgasm.

Your abdomen was wound tight, your groin ached terribly, and your thighs started to shake. Behind your eyes, the kaleidoscopic wheels of color intermingled with the darkness and it all slowly burned to white.

And then—

“Good morning!” you were being shaken awake by one of the technologists, a middle-aged woman with blue eyeliner. she didn't expect for you to jolt upright, stick straight, and launch the covers off of your body. “Oh—hey, honey, you alright? We’re done until tonight. How do you feel?”

You were slow to respond to her, occupied by the morning light filtering in through the window across the bedroom. She gave you some time to gather your bearings and took her time removing the stickers and wires from your skin, suggesting you spend some time really scrubbing in the shower later to get off all the adhesive.

“How about now, honey?” she pulled the last sticker and wire combination off of your shoulder. “You with us?”

You didn't know how to answer that, especially not with how damp you felt inside your thighs.

a/n; thank you for reading and choosing to help me shape the story further!! this is all inspired by the fact that I have frequent bouts of sleep paralysis myself and on three consecutive occasions, after taking some questionable drops from an ex-friend, I saw something. I want to make this very clear that this story is intended to be pretty extreme psychological horror. anyway, here are the questions

sujay will be a major supporting character in the story, so what would you be interested in seeing more: 1) sujay and mc further blurring that boundary and possibly becoming a pair, but their "relationship" becomes thwarted by SPD 2) sujay, possibly, ends up with more yandere tendencies as the story progresses and with the development of the plot, could result in a terrible ending for him—but interesting 3) sujay and mc are inherently a toxic duo, but he tries his best to support mc (platonically or one-sided romantically) as they spiral out of control?

in terms of SPD's appearance, what idea do you like better: 1) him, eventually, having a definitive, solid form and features across the span of the story 2) he remains like a "black silhouette" with the invisible hands, but he has the sort of voice that's lulls and lures and manipulates 3) he takes on features that mc (you) find attractive, but they're all wrong and progressively becomes more monstrous 4) he has a physical appearance that's "all wrong", but you can never figure why or what he actually looks like despite SEEING him. if you want to choose multiple, you need to get VERY specific.

I intend for this story to be incredibly dark in terms of sexual content bc SPD is a demon/monster. he is not good. he is not loving. when you think of "dark" for smut, what would you want to see??

[poppy-metal]

(i might’ve sent an ask similar to this so ignore that one if i have) dbf patrick telling you “youre never getting this dick” makes you cry so bad. so embarrassing. how dare he. he wants to fuck you just as bad. you stomp out, panties throughly wet.

he doesn’t hear from you for days, then a week. a week and a bit. his chest aches a little bit, but this is good. distant is what you need. this is what he wanted. in theory.

distant is good, until he realised your audacity knows no bounds, and this distance is the only thing making you brave enough to send him that video. distance is the only thing stopping him from putting you back in your place.

as soon as he gets the notification, he opens it, without thought. what if you’re in trouble again? his baser instinct is to help you, to protect you. but what he fails to notice is that you’ve attached a video. and that video is you, laid up in your bed at arts house. girlish posters line the walls, boy bands and twilight and high school musical, all phases he saw you go through in your adolescence. wrapped in your bubble gum pink sheets, there you lay. legs spread wide, feet dangling, panties off. your pussy. your tiny little pussy. so wet, so small, glinting and winking at him in the light. the whole thing would fit in his mouth. his cock would tear you apart. propped up on your elbows. smiling like the cat who got the fucking cream.

you sigh, staring into the camera, widening your legs. a tiny hand moves down, down your body. you’re wearing a tshirt, but you’re bare other than that. braless. fuck. with fingers half the size of patrick’s your spread your pussy lips, giving him a glimpse of your tiny tiny hole. he’s transfixed, furious and mesmerised.

“too bad you don’t want this,” you say softly,”i saved it for you. no one has ever touched me here.”

you withdraw your fingers, and your lips reclose with a wet click and a quiet gasp.

his cock is so hard at the sound of your voice. your face as you touch around your cunt. you’re not even playing with it and your eyebrows draw together. he could pull you apart fibre by fibre. undo you, reduce you to nothing.

“but you think you’re better than me right? you think i don’t deserve your cock?”

oh, he thinks you deserve something.

“i think i deserve it.”

your three middle fingers circle your clit. you bite your lip to stifle a moan that escapes anyway.

“i think that-“ you say through gritted teeth,” you like when i’m-“

you rub faster, mouth falling open in an “O”. you take in a high pitched breath, light and airy with the airiness of your head.

“-bad. think you want to punish this-“

you flush, embarrassed even to say the word,

“-pussy. you want my little pussy so bad. makes you hate me.”

drool pours from your cunt. you whimper and moan helplessly, like it hurts to feel so good. just with the rubbing of your little fingers.

“shouldn’t hate me. you should love me, patty. love my pussy. fuck.”

your head hung limp of your shoulder. eyes rolled. the noises from your pussy were obscene, and he could see the clenching of your already minuscule hole. you were close.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, patrick. patrick. patrick. patrick. fuck me. patrick please.”

you cry, cry as you cum. your legs shudder, and your whimpers roll from your mouth. but it’s over so fast. such a mediocre orgasm. nothing compared to what he could give you.

the video finishes with you breathing heavily as you get up, slide panties on and a very mini mini skirt. you pick up your phone.

“ok, ive got a date now. bye patrick! love ya!”

you pucker your lips and blow a kiss into the camera. the video ends there.

do u want your ass beat (yes) do u want him to pop over and punish you (yes) and he knows that. really, all you're doing is pissing him the fuck off. more and more. if there's one thing patricks hated about people, its when they treat him like he's fucking stupid. its obvious you still think you're in control - that you hold the reigns.

and, well. he does save the video. he does fuck his fist watching you play with that slick little pussy - fuck, he knew it'd be small and tight and fucking juicy. basically begging to be fucked -

but no. it wont go your way. its obvious to patrick now that hes going to fuck you - that body belongs to him. he can't pretend it doesn't anymore. but it'll be on his terms - not yours.

when patrick tells you to come over you're ecstatic - you think you've won - you've cracked him - you shave yourself in the shower - fucking everywhere. you lotion yourself up - you sneak out - making sure to check on art - he's asleep, on his stomach like he usually does. you feel a moment of guilt - not for what you want but because of what this would do to him if he found out. you'd always been a good girl in his eyes. and you didn't want to ruin that image - you just wish he didn't have such a savior complex.

when you knock on patricks door and he answers you grin - tight dress on - and he takes a moment to soak that in. looks you up and down. then he steps aside to let you in and you do. except you freeze - because why is your friend here?

"steph?"

but she doesn't answer you. she gives you a look like, im sorry, but other than that she doesn't look guilty at all. she's in nothing but a bra and panties.

you look at patrick - "what's going on?" a sick feeling curdles your stomach. "oh my god. did you fuck her?"

the room tilts. your hands start to shake. you know patrick fucks other women, but those women are so far removed from you - much older.

patrick walks around you. comes to stephs side and you can't believe you're watching him cup her cheek and her lean into it - "not yet." patrick says. and then he kisses her. their tongues clash and he moves his hands down her body, slips and hand down her panties.

you take a step back. patrick lets go of steph and finally looks at you. doesn't take his hand from better her legs. "i told you." he tells you, "i don't fuck bad girls - and your friend here -" you can tell the moment he sinks a finger inside her - the way she moans and trembles - "- is very, very good. you can leave -" he jerks his head to the door. you are rooted to the spot. "- or you can stay and watch. maybe learn a thing or two about what happens when you push me."

you want to scream. you want to cry. you want to throw a fit and claw your friends eyes out and never ever talk to her again. you want to threaten that you'll tell art but you know that wont do anything - he hasn't fucking touched you. you've thrown yourself at him and he hasn't done anything. you want to pull your hair out and you think this might be what finally breaks you what pushes you over the edge, what makes you fall out of love and hate patrick zweig and move on from your crush -

you stay and watch.

because you know what this is all the sudden. he wants you to hate him. he wants to hurt you in the worst way possible so you'll leave him alone. because hes hanging on by a thread.

it hurts. and you do hate him, but not enough to walk away.

patricks eyes dont leave yours as he fucks your friend. draws it out, but you notice how he makes her get on all fours, pushes into her from behind - and you think thats good. because when he fucks my pussy, he'll have to look me in the eye.

like he's doing now. and you aren't a quitter, so you pull up your dress. show him your body inch by inch - the one you'd prepped for him to take tonight. your bare cunt - your soft glowing skin - patrick groans when he sees it. grunts "fuck," and you know it was for you. not for steph.

you watch and you spread you lower yourself to the ground in front of them and you spread your legs - show him your pussy - in full view this time - not on video.

"i love how you fuck," you tell him. sliding a hand down your body. "i know you wanna hurt me - make me run away, but i want you too much. nothing you can do will make me not want you."

patrick glares at you. its like steph isn't even there. you slide your fingers through your wet slit and patrick cant look away - cant take his eyes off you - watches you sink those fingers inside and he - he - "spread it," he spits out before he can think. realizes he said that out loud, but fuck it. hes in it now. "spread those lips - show me that fucking pussy -"

you moan - making a V with your fingers and splitting apart your folds so your glistening cunt is in full view to him - pulsing and wet. "fucking hell." god, you're going to kill him. he stops rocking into steph and when she lifts her head he fists a hand in her hair. "lick her -"

he doesn't give her time to answer - and you've never really been into women - your whole world has consistented of two men - your daddy and your daddy - but you gasp when he shoves her face into your cunt. "oh-"

its like hes living through her. eating your cunt through your friend. he wanted to make you suffer. he'd wanted to see you cry and run so he could hate himself and have all this be over but you'd gone and fucked it like you always did. making him crazy. driving him wild.

"when i fuck you." because why deny it now? "I'm gonna fucking tear you apart, swear to god you're gonna beg me to stop. but I won't listen."

stephs tongue rolls around your clit - you forgot she's into women, too, has obviously done this before - sucks it into your mouth and you whine. rock into her face desperately and nod at patricks words. "yes -" you gasp - "want you too - want you to ruin me, daddy -"

"stick your tongue in her cunt," he slaps stephs ass. "get her fucking sloppy-"

god, steph is really good at this. you clench around her tongue as she wriggles it into you, moaning into your mound and making your pussy vibrate with the sound.

"dont fucking shave anymore." he pulls out of steph. fucking her isn't gonna get him off. never planned on finishing inside her, anyway. the next cunt he unloads inside will be your virgin pussy. "i want your pussy with hair on it not bald like a fucking baby." he fists himself hard - pushes stephs face harder into you - you nod helplessly and he grins - "im gonna get us a hotel. you're going to let me take you out and show you off like a little show pony and then im gonna take you upstairs. lay you down on a real nice comforter - and im gonna lick every fucking inch of that tight little body."

his balls are fucking swinging between his legs. you're humping your friends face and your friend is humping her own hand and hes so close to coming - so fucking close - he thinks about making steph lick further down. making her eat your ass too. but no. he wants his tongue to be the first on that hole.

"every fucking inch." he repeats. "that little asshole belongs to me, too."

"oh fuck - " you whine. "yes, daddy - i want it - "

"fucking taunting me with that jailbait pussy between your legs - I'll show you what's it's like to be fucked by a real man with a big cock -" he pumps hard, swift strokes that shlick shlick shlick up and down "- I'll make you fucking addicted to it."

you already are and you haven't even had it inside you yet. you cry out when steph tries to slip a finger inside you along with her tongue - patrick sees it and winds his fist in her hair again, "nu uh. just your tongue." he fucking rubs her face up and down the whole of your slit, motorboats her in it. her moans vibrate deep inside your pussy. all the way to your toes. patrick meets your eyes. and hes so big and broad and his other hand is fisting his hard flushed cock and you're so empty - you need more - more - more - he sees you ogling it and grips himself around his thick base, jostles his cock - "the first thing inside you is gonna be this dick - and i - fuck - i expect you to christen it with your blood when i pop that little cherry. mark it as yours. cause there's no going back after that."

your eyes roll back into your skull when you cum. hard, drenching stephs face in your juices as you explode all over her tongue plunging in and out, in and out. you dont know if she comes and you dont care because you're too busy staring starry eyed at patrick as he grunts and paints the floor below him with white streaks.

you roll over and lick it from the floor.

"jesus." patrick grunts.

"you guys are so fucked up." steph says from behind you.

whatever. shes the one that agreed to fuck an older man with you present, and then proceeded to tongue fuck your cunt like it held the water of life.

"get the fuck out, steph." you glare at her. "seriously before i come down from that orgasm you just gave me and claw your fucking eyes out."

you do still love steph. if anything because she doesn't seem offended to be kicked out. she'd always been the most laid back. this probably isn't the craziest thing shes done this week. definitely not her first threesome.

"i see where the daddy kink comes from."

"hes not my dad."

"you'd still fuck him if he was."

well. probably.

[cherryblossombankai]

Day 12: Double Penetration with Prince Sidon

Warnings: fem!reader, monster fucking, sidon has two dicks, anal sex, double penetration

Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @sweet-chocolate-sweet, @kenpachisbrat

Wanna be on the tag list? CLICK HERE!

His hips rock gently. Alongside his thick cock, he has two fingers shoved inside you to help stretch you out. His second cock is slapping against your ass with every thrust, leaking all over your skin and throbbing with need. 

“Are you ready, my love?” his voice is gentle and sweet, reassuring you that it’s okay if you’re not ready. 

Early in your marriage taking only one of his cocks was nearly too much for you, but recently you’d been brave enough to suggest trying to take both. You wanted to be good for him, to help him achieve maximum pleasure. 

“I-I’m ready,” you look over your shoulder at him.

He leans down to kiss you softly on the cheek. He pulls his fingers from your tight warmth to replace them with his cock. He pushes it in carefully alongside the first one. You whimper at the stretch of having both of his cocks inside of you. It feels like the first time all over again. You’re panting and your walls are tightening around him.

 He feels you tense up. The squeeze is so tight it borders on pain for him. He places his hands on your hips, trying to still your trembling. 

“Please relax, love,” he pants softly. “It’s too tight.” 

After a few deep breaths, you acclimate to the stretch of him. His thrusts are slow and deliberate. He wants you to enjoy this as much as he does. Perhaps even more if it can be achieved. 

“F-fuck,” you moan in pleasure. Every thrust has him rubbing against your sweet spot. 

“I won’t last much longer,” he warns you. The clenching of your walls around both of his throbbing cocks is almost too much already. His balls are drawing up in anticipation of his release. 

“Sidon,” you whine. You push your ass back against him, allowing him to go deeper still. You can feel the bulging of your stomach from his size. 

Your knuckles turn white from clinging to the bed sheets as you cum. Above you, Sidon is panting and growling. He plunges deep into you once more before going still, his cocks twitching with every shot of cum released into your waiting depths. 

As he pulls out of you, he watches his seed leak out of you in thick globs. He shudders, feeling a heat of arousal in his core. 

“You did wonderfully, my love,” he says as he guides you to lay down, to rest after exerting so much effort.

[ohbo-ohno]

Oh okay yes please talk about stalker Johnny and Ghost and reader with the make your own dick model 🙏🏻

yeeeesss. i should be writing 1k drabbles but you're getting this instead so i can get it out of my head. sorry not sorry!

stalker johnny who corrupts his girlfriend. you're very happy together and he very slowly introduces the idea of ghost... tells you all about how perfect his is, how strong, how big, how protective of his people, all sorts of things. paints this picture of an almost guardian angel type for her, sorta talks about ghost like he's a god

shows you pictures and his drawings too. and just, slowly, you starts to see ghost in the same way. it's definitely intentional on johnny's part - he tells you very specific stories about ghost to make him sound as perfect as possible

there's a bit of time when johnny starts to bring ghost into the bedroom. he'll fuck his pretty girlfriend with a strap and stuff a few fingers into her ass, whisper in her ear that he's stretching her out for simon. they'll make out and between kisses he'll whisper about what it would feel like to share ghost's cock between the two of you - both of you fighting over who gets to suck his shaft and who his balls, kissing around the head of his cock, fingering you while you suck his cock. it really works for you, and slowly but surely you share johnny's obsession

(he brings home a recording of ghost shouting at recruits one day. you've never come harder than when he fucks you with it playing in the background)

and ghost knows about johnny's little crush. how could he not? his sergeant follows him around like a puppy on base, constantly looking for approval, it would be impossible not to notice quite frankly. once johnny gets a girlfriend he thinks maybe the obsession will abate a bit, but... nope. if anything it gets worse

and, listen, ghost is a bit of an asshole. he's not above feeding johnny's obsession a bit. you think he doesn't see johnny filming him screaming at recruits? babe, he'll yell at johnny without pointing out the camera in his pocket. flexes a little bit when he catches johnny sneaking into the shower behind him. manhandles the boy by the back of his neck

he figures it's mostly harmless, though. honestly he's not sure johnny is freaky enough to really do anything about his crush

he meets you when the whole task force goes out for drinks one night. and ohhhh he gets it. he sees what's going on here.

you and johnny are like two little puppies, begging for his attention. he shows up to the table and sees you sitting in johnny's lap, and you're both staring up at him with stars in your eyes. it's a bit jarring, but ghost settles quickly. price and gaz fuck off early on in the night, and ghost is more than happy to spend some time with the two of you

the both of you pant after his attention all night. he tries to make small talk about your life but quickly realizes that you're only interested in hearing about him. sort of awkward, to be honest, but the attention is nice.

johnny scoots as close as he can with you in his lap, and ghost spreads his legs a bit press their thighs together. without saying anything he scoops your ankles up, setting them on the other side of his legs so you're laid out across him. ghost settles back into the cracked leather of the seat, throws an arm over johnny's shoulder, and takes a sip of his bourbon.

and oh you two blush so prettily

ghost honestly isn't sure if either you or johnny will be brave enough to do anything about your little crushes. he's not going to take that first step - he'll take all the steps after that, but he wants one of you to take the first - and he's a little disappointed when neither of you makes a move at the end of the night.

he notices something's wrong when he and johnny catch a ride home.

the heaviness in his limbs is terrifying at first, and he almost sounds the alarm before he sees the little gleam in johnny's eye.

and it clicks. he understands why his drink tasted just a little different when he came back to the table. and he lets himself relax into johnny's side, and starts planning how he'll get his boy back.

johnny helps him into his room, but leaves him be. simon applauds his restraint, and settles in to wait.

sure enough, less than an hour later, johnny sneaks into the room. ghost leaves his eyes shut, fighting the drugs to keep his mind present.

johnny nudges him a bit, then settles between his legs when he seems content that ghost isn't waking up any time soon. it's hard not to smirk.

"is he asleep?"

"yeah, bonnie, he's out."

oh now that's interesting, johnny's pretty little girlfriend is on the phone with him. your tinny voice sounds nervous but excited from the speaks, and johnny's is just excited.

it takes a while for ghost to figure out what the hell johnny is trying to do - he's never had a dick mold made of himself, alright? it's not an easy process to recognize. he wills himself to stay relaxed, and amuses himself with your conversation.

"oh, wow."

"what? is it big?"

a scoff. "big is an understatement. not sure even you'll be able to take this, lass."

an offended noise. "oh im sorry, this coming from the man who's stretched me out on his entire fist before?"

a laugh. "you're not face to face with his cock, bonnie. fuck, my fingers can't even wrap around it."

"...really?"

a moan. "yes, he's... thick, long. fuck, he's pretty."

ghost would laugh if he wasn't so complimented. who knew johnny would love his cock so much? alright, ghost knew. the boy hasn't been shy with his worship outside of the bedroom, it's not exactly a shock that he is inside of it.

"be careful you don't wake him."

"i'm not an amateur, lass. we watched him drink the whole thing, he's out for the night."

ghost almost laughs.

he's not sure how long johnny takes, but eventually he takes his phone and leaves. ghost's still drugged enough that he can't really look around and see what's happened, but he's pretty confident he knows at that point.

it's gratifying, to know that johnny is so obsessed that he wants to fuck his girlfriend with simon's cock.

now he's just got to figure out a way to watch him do it.

[zahri-melitor]

Newish Comics:

Action Comics #1072: I am enjoying following the path of both of these stories, but I'm getting the vibes that I need some things to start happening soon, rather than stacking up more mystery boxes.

Still delighted by Kenan and Kon's antics though. The decision to team them up continues to pay off.

Detective Comics #1090: look, have we seen the premise of Thomas helping characters he probably shouldn't have, as a doctor, and that leading to disaster down the track before? Yes. Am I going to enjoy the parallels again anyway? Also yes. Get Leslie into this plot, Tom Taylor, for some support for Thomas' tendencies.

Nightwing #119: My first thought here is how nice it is to see a run that's picking up smoothly from the last one and where the writer is fully indoctrinated on Dick/Babs flirting from the Dixon days. It's got potential and so far I don't mind the characterisation.

Absolute Wonder Woman #1: I think this is probably going to end up my favourite title from the Absolute line. The art was beautiful and full of character, and I really loved the characterisation of Circe in this, and how she moves from indifferent to a mother. "How you fall in love with a child is by raising it." gaaaaaaah I had those words still ringing in my head last night as I was supervising bathtime and teeth brushing.

Green Arrow #17: and we finally get this book handed off from Joshua Williamson. First half was more tidying up of the Absolute Power mess (without much real resolution, but we all need to move on from that plot), but the new run with Chris Condon looks like it has some promise. I'm happy to go with it for the second.

The Flash #14: Skartaris time! I still need to actually get to the point where I understand what the current timeline of Skartaris is from Flashpoint onwards, because my personal understanding is that Travis should be DEAD DEAD DEAD but yet he's still around. I suspect this is because nobody at DC actually cares about Warlord lore enough to make this a problem, aside from Mike Grell, who at this point is in 'sure, that art proposal sounds fun to draw' life stages.

Anyway, the concept of the Wests all going to Skartaris for some family bonding time is hysterical (by both definitions) and I eagerly await to see how Spurrier handles adapting it for an audience who isn't already used to Skartaris oddities. The fact we have floating Ancient Atlantean buildings in the art is a very promising sign to me, though.

Zatanna: Bring Down The House #5: This was a good conclusion to the story. It's been very much Black Label levels of existing in its own continuity, and I respect how it was put together. I do wonder how much of Tamaki's insistence on how she characterised and centred rabbits in the run is influenced by and in opposition to that classic picture of Giovanni Zatara from The Books of Magic #3 with the dead rabbit.

Batman: The Brave and the Bold #18:

I really liked the art in Doubt. It was quite effective.

The Constantine and Streaky team up remained completely unnecessary but oh well, not written for me.

Reflections was an interesting team up! I wouldn't have put M'gann and Jackson together (actually I just realised this was probably influenced by YJA, carry on), but they do both have interesting placement in their narratives of Xebel v Atlantis and White v Green Martian. Wish the story had leant a bit more into that outsider narrative from the villain to try and convince them.

Why do we have a random Harley Quinn story from nowhere in the continuity? anyway.

Robin Season is uh not particularly good Tim and Damian characterisation (in that the one-upmanship competition doesn't really feel how the two of them compete?) but it's full of interesting background detailing for indications of setting.

The Warlord #73: This week for our second trip to Lost World of Skartaris, we're starting out strong as Travis is still trapped in the bondage tree from last week.

Terrible bondage peril! Over a fire!

Only to be further attacked by flying dinosaurs of some description!

Thanks for the art, Dan Jurgens.

We spend 6 pages of this comic with Travis trying to escape from the tree vines clinging to him, while also fighting the dinosaurs. We have never been more back.

In terms of the plot that doesn't involve tying Travis up in perilous situations, we're still tracking down the plague unicorn. The unicorn dies in a swamp, the gang figure out that Scarheart, our non-Skataran speaking friend from another dimension probably drank magical healing water from a pool which is why he doesn't have Unicorn Plague, and they go off to get some to heal everyone who's sick. Shakira gets better and falls immediately for Scarheart. They decide to hang out with the group of travellers who speak to animals and leave the main story group for a bit.

Also Travis uses up all his bullets, yet again. I must assume he just has a supplier in Skartaris by now who's worked out how to make ammunition.

[patowrd]

dando fic snippet pt. 5 😳 (one day soon i'll actually post the first third of this fic - i promise - but for now have a dando club scene)

Of course it’s Carlos’ idea to go clubbing.

Everyone’s here, even Max, and everyone seems keen on getting absolutely fucking hammered. Daniel can’t remember if he has anything planned for tomorrow, so he orders a gin and tonic, specifying “double” as the bartender nods.

“Feeling brave, are we Danny?” Max asks. He's nursing a pint, an orange slice floating languidly in his glass.

“Feeling like I’ve got nothing to lose mate,” he shouts over the house groove. He brings the glass to his lips and swallows, inhaling through his teeth as the alcohol scrapes its way down his throat. He loves this feeling, the bitter bite of the tonic lingering on his tongue. It fades to soft sweetness as he turns to the bartender, ordering another before he even leaves the bar. 

He's aiming to get drunk enough to silence the nagging worry in his brain. Lando and Carlos have found their way onto the dance floor, and Daniel can’t help but stare at Carlos’ hands, which smooth down the faux-satin fabric of a girl’s slip as they sway, wordless. There's something enticing about the rhythm they’ve found, the breathless buzz of a couple of beers and two endorphin-seeking hearts. Daniel can’t remember the last time he’s felt that rush, the novelty of an unknown body pressed against him close as he loses himself in sensation, in pure feeling. He hasn’t had time lately, at least that’s what he’s told himself, that between standing behind the bar and smoking at the back door he’s had no break long enough to taste a stranger’s gin-soaked lips. He finds the need growing in him though, a need which crests as Carlos grips her waist, one hand firm as the other gently cradles the small of her back.

He pretends the bartender’s eyebrow doesn’t raise when he orders his third drink.

The table Daniel finds (as far away from Carlos as he can manage, so that the ache he feels when he watches can subside), is covered in a film of spilled drinks and cigarette ash. He sits alone and stares at the ice melting in his glass, wondering whether he’d better order a fourth or just head home and call it a day. Maybe this isn’t him anymore, he thinks, maybe he’s too far gone to go back to partying, to be the kind of person who, easy as breathing, can find someone to share a dance floor with. He downs the drink and inhales sharp, and he’s a second away from standing up when someone smacks him across the shoulder and sits in the booth opposite him.

“Danny!” Lando says, something strong and sweet on his breath. and then, in mock sadness, “Man you’re all alone out here.”

Daniel laughs, pretending the remark doesn’t sting something deep within his heartstrings, “Ah, and you’re drunk”

“You’re not?” he asks, eyes gliding over Daniel’s now empty glass.

“Nah, not yet buddy”

“Well we’ve gotta work on that” Lando says, matter of fact, a playful smirk on his lips, “Don’t wanna leave our guest all by himself to sulk.”

There's a beat where Daniel says nothing, his eyes fixed on Lando’s own, which stare back, unwavering. The smirk doesn’t fade, and Daniel notices how it spreads to Lando's eyes, how he stares back like a trickster, taunting, teasing.

A sharp inhale as he looks away, “So, you’re a bit of a dick, hm?”

Lando giggles, taking a sip of his drink and fiddling with the straw, “Only when I don’t know you”

“Planning to get to know me?

“Not before another drink” and it’s then that Daniel notices the concoction in Lando's glass, a dark red and orange liquid swirling and swishing as Lando twirls the straw around.

“God, what are you even drinking?”

Lando's eyebrows rise as he blushes, a smile (bashful now, Daniel thinks, fascinatingly bashful) drawing itself across his features. He takes a sip and pretends to really be evaluating it, his inexperience showing as he replies “Dunno really.” a further sip, where he swishes it around in his mouth like he’s at a wine tasting, an impression which has Daniel doubled over laughing, unsure if Lando's really that funny or if the three g&ts have finally had their effect.

When he swallows, Lando wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, lips turning a plush red as he adds, “I just let Carlos order for me usually.”

Daniel swipes the tear away from his eye, trying not to look too much like a smitten schoolgirl finally talking to her crush, “God i’ve got to teach you about actually good drinks some time,” his smile is honest here, bright and luminous, “Honestly i’ll bartend at the villa, free of charge.”

And Lando only laughs at the offer, his head thrown back and eyes screwed shut.

Daniel thinks that, at least as far as he can remember, he’s never seen a boy quite this beautiful.

[dazzle-writes]

Hello, saw you were doing match ups so wondered if you'd do one for me, with trigun characters

I'm an 160cm thin girl (20 y/o) with long brown curly hair and blue eyes, kinda look like merida from brave if that helps, enfp

I'm a lot like 98' vash (my biggest ever kin fr), goofing around and having fun, making dirty jokes with my friends, very clumsy and bubbly when in good mood, tho i don't shy away from being tough from time to time

I'm friendly and like meeting new people but keeping connections is my biggest flaw. I mostly keep it going with the ones i click with

I love being around people, but don't mind being alone for some periods of time, reading, watching something, drawing or doing whatever hobby i picked on

I'm an archeology student, have passion for history and literature, love psychology and philosophy, love things like true crime and paranormal stories, definitely would like to travel and see what the world and people have to offer. I'm the "do it for the plot" type of person, getting into random situations for the sake of seeing how it'll end and if i'll have a story in the end

When i was younger i was more like some kind of vash-milly combo, but now I'm more aware of people, i can't stand when someone is judgy from the beggining, when someone is too negative about the world and people, because even tho i myself get disappointed in people often, i still think that we should look for positive things in everyday life. Kind of "if life has no meaning, might as well find meaning in small things"

Sorry if this was too long, thank you if you've read this far ^^ and keep up with the good writing, you're doing amazing!

UWAAAA I'm so glad you like my writing! I've been swamped with work lately, so sorry this is taking a while!!

For trigun 98, I most definitely match you up with Wolfwood! You are just that little ray of sunshine he needs to keep going. Plus, he loves that you and him make sex jokes to each other about everything that you can. You two get kidnapped and held by Knives? Non-stop dick jokes. At first you try to at least mutter them under your breath, but soon enough you're both just spouting them out as fast as you can think of them. Knives is just standing there in shock that you can think of so many in a short amount of time. I also think you two would be like, surprisingly close beforehand. He a big cuddler too (have you fucking seen those titties MMMMM) and I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL BUT WOLFWOOD IS TERRIFIED OF GHOSTS!!! Yall go ghost hunting and he is ATTACHED TO YOU LIKE NO OTHER. Homie is throwing round the holy water like he's a raincloud. You one day dig up and old book and are pretty sure that its haunted? He's hiding being his giant cross and shaking in his tight ass pants.

In trigun stampede however, Vash latches onto you like white on rice. You are exactly what this poor bean needs in his life!!!! You teach him to appreciate the little things, and show him that he's allowed to have wants and needs. He enjoys taking you around old crashed spaceships and letting you go wild with the archeological zoomies. In this universe, you also get kidnaped by Knives so Vash follows to come and save you and once again, you make so many dick jokes. The only difference is that Stampede Knives has never seen a wiener in his LIFE and doesn't get any joke you make. Do with this information what you will. Vash also really likes showing you his Plant siblings when his spilled the alien beans. You'd probably enjoy just quietly hanging with the Plant girlies because they just watch you draw or read or they nap! they are very nice when you need to recharge a social battery but don't want to be completely alone. Vash is also a big cuddler and understands having trouble keeping connections with people!! He's always moving so he gets sad thinking about all the people he wanted to grow closer too.

If we wanted to hit up the manga, then id actually pair you with Legato! I think you'd be just the right person to help him let himself be a better and softer person. Your love of psychology would really interest him, and I think you'd be that enemies-to tolerated-to friends-to lovers thing. He also likes learning about humans and the past, and I think that's he would really appreciate you showing him to good side of humanity through psychology and even true crime by showing how people come together and how people react to catastrophe and stress. He needs to see people doing good things, and you are just the person to show him around the world and prove it to him

ALSO SORRY THIS IS LIKE MONTHS LATE I got another job and started school SOBS!!! But I hope you enjoy!!!!

[theshippirate22]

OD part 2 lol love you fam

Hunter actually felt okay.

His time on the floor had done him some good and whatever blood pressure issue had presented itself had also clearly resolved itself with the nap.

He blinked away some of the cloudiness, and when most but not all of it disappeared, he reached instinctively for his glasses and groped around until he found the frames.

He shoved them up his face and propped himself up on his elbows and suddenly did not feel okay again.

He wasn’t in Willablues anymore, like he expected. He’s been out longer than he thought apparently, because he was in a blindingly white room in some sort of hospital-adjacent bed with rough white sheets, wearing white scrubs. There was no window, no concept of time, just white.

He threw the blanket off and swung his legs to the side.

“Don’t try to stand.”

Hunter froze, back to the voice in poorly concealed shock.

“Learned that the hard way,” she continued.

He blinked. He was afraid to look, actually, because he would know her voice in death and due to her own circumstances, he was starting to wonder if that was the situation.

“Am I dead?” He blurted suddenly, braving to face her.

Amber smiled when she saw him, looking over his face like it had been too long since she’d seen him. Like she needed to remember exactly what he looked like, like she would need to draw him from memory.

“No, you’re not. Not yet anyway.”

He bit his lip. Thought about what information he had to try and gather some sort of sense.

“Is it really you, or is it just my head?”

Amber climbed onto the bed and threw herself back against his pillows the way she used to. “Does it matter?”

He laid back next to her, on his side, and it was so familiar it almost felt foreign. He couldn’t count how many times they’d laid exactly like this in his bed, usually whispering because Eliza was asleep in the other room, discussing girls and work and sometimes unpacking their deeply unsettling psychological issues.

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Well, that’s usually how it works, but you’ve always been stupid enough to work around conventions.”

He chuckled. She thumbed his cheekbone adoringly.

"We need naloxone!" Lyn was screaming. Hunter had gone from barely alive to hardly alive in the minutes that they stood there arguing.

"We need to wait for the paramedics!" Missy was screaming right back.

"We have to give him something!"

"We don't know it's an overdose!"

"I do! I was researching it just the other day for a fic I was writing!"

"It won't hurt him if we give him naloxone and it's not an overdose!" Caleb offered. "It will hurt him if we don't do anything and it is an overdose!"

"Are you saying he's an addict? Why in the world would he be ODing? Give me one good reason!"

The voices and the arguments fluctuated between all of them, Rich and Elijah included, until it was hard to figure out who was saying what.

"We can't just go stabbing people when they faint!"

"His symptoms match!"

"He didn't take anything!"

"You don't know that!"

"Get a naloxone! NOW!"

"DON'T do that! I'm in charge!"

"Why won't you just trust me?"

"Corporate will be pissed if-"

"Oh FUCK corporate! His fucking heart is SHUTTING DOWN!"

"THE PARAMEDICS ARE COMING!"

"HE PROBABLY DOESN'T HAVE THAT KIND OF TIME!"

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!"

"GET HIM SOME GODDAMN NARCAN!"

A hand slammed down on Hunter's leg with a loud click and the naloxone injection pierced straight through his scrubs, through his skin, his muscle. Missy screamed at the sound of plastic on flesh and Lyn flinched so hard she fell backward.

The back end of the needle stuck out painfully in the space between them, jammed into the soft part of Hunter's thigh.

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!"

Caleb's chest heaved. He pulled his shaking hand back and knocked his glasses up higher on his nose. "Decision made. Take it out of my wages and tell corporate to suck my dick."

Lyn stared up at him in some indescribable admiration.

Rich leaned back on his haunches, dragging his hands down his face. "Give it a couple minutes."

"Should I be worried?" Hunter mumbled against where Amber's fingertips had danced down to the corner of his mouth.

She smiled peculiarly and he knew that meant she didn't know, but it still drained his anxiety regardless.

It was either a lifetime or an instant as she silently traced the contours of his face, again with some serene desperation to have it committed to memory. There was finality in the whole thing, like this was most definitely the last time they'd see each other. It was slow and soft, the way it ought to be, not angry and dark and frightening the way it had been for him, and god, how it must've been for her.

Her touch grew firmer, as if she could absorb his thoughts and didn't like the direction of them, the release of that dark spot in his mind that poisoned everything else it could touch.

Eventually, she whispered, "It wasn't your fault."

There was urgency in that, suddenly, as if time was fading quickly and both of them had suddenly become aware of it. He saved them the rigamarole of the what was? because he knew what she meant. There was only one thing.

"It was," he murmured miserably.

"No, I'm telling you it wasn't."

"But-"

"You did good, Hunter. God, you did so good. Promise. You were perfect to me."

"I should've-"

Her fingers moved back down to his mouth to cut him off. "No, you couldn't. You did everything right. It wasn't your fault."

"You're gone..." Hunter choked, the feeling that she was already slipping away growing in him like some parasite. He grabbed at her shoulder to keep her there, to preserve her just another moment...

"You can try to save everyone, Hunter, and you will, I know you. Admirable as it is, you can't carry it when they refuse. It wasn't your fault. Couldn't have been. You need to let it go."

The tears came flooding from his face before he could stop them. "No, no, no! It's not... I could've... You... God, Amber!"

"Let it go," she consolingly pulled down his glasses. "Let me go..."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Amber!" He stared up at the fluorescent lights in this horrid apathetic dreamscape and tried to blink it away, blink away everything, even the sickness in his stomach that was turning to bile racing up his throat.

The lights went yellow and then white and then a sort of light blue with each blink before leveling out again until they weren't the dream lights at all and the nauseous feeling was inescapable.

Hunter lurched from Lyn's arms and vomited everywhere.

Missy sobbed and Lyn cried in relief, pulling him back against her almost instantly, arms locked under his and across his chest, and buried her face in his neck to bawl. Caleb kicked away the re-capped naloxone and rested his forehead somewhere near Hunter's stomach.

Hunter stared at the ceiling, at those goddamn fucking lights, and blinked again and again like it might take him back, for just a moment, to the place with Amber, and when he decided it wasn't going to happen, he was instead hyper-aware of Lyn's hands on his chest, her breath against his neck and the sound of Elijah on the phone with his sister.

The dark spot- that evil, Amber-cursed place in his mind- didn't get locked back up. It raced through his bloodstream, and he imagined it trailing up like smoking from the throbbing injection point in his thigh and getting devoured by the lights.

And he felt okay about that.

Let her go.

He reached up to hold the back of Lyn's head and Caleb's shoulder and Lyn grabbed onto him even tighter and babbled incoherently about what a fucking asshole he was.

"Hey," he rasped, forcing down the acidic taste of his own vomit and forcing out the stale air from his appropriately-functioning lungs. "I told you that protein shake tasted weird."

[snowflake-of-destruction]

Umbrella prompt!

guns are for sissies. real men throw knives.

☂️Larxene☂

Vanitas rarely smiled, and, when he did, it was generally unnerving to most people other than Ventus, Sora, Xion, or Aqua. The grin he wore as he plopped himself down across the table from Naminé, spinning the first empty chair he’d touched around instead of pulling it out, presumably just because he thought he’d appear more intimidating straddling the seat and staring at his prey over the back rather than leaning over the table, was downright terrifying in its feral wolfishness. 

“Why, Little Sister…” he greeted her. Naminé felt like she should be flattered that Vanitas had decided the part of Sora that had gone into her body’s makeup made her a part of his family, but the primary emotion she felt around Vanitas was mild discomfort. He looked at her like he knew she didn’t belong still, even though she’d fooled everyone else long ago. It took an outsider who couldn’t move past their imposter syndrome to know one, she guessed. Maybe that was what made them family, not Sora.  “Are those dicks you’re drawing?”

Naminé dropped her pencil and slapped both hands over the page in front of her, fingers splayed to take up as much room and cover as much paper as possible, warbling a high-pitched, indignant “No!” that bounced off the walls to echo back as accusation that she sounded like a liar. 

Van leaned backward, resting against air, eyebrows raising and a low whistle escaping through his teeth. “Well, that was a lucky guess. I was just teasing.” He’d seen a vague shape on the page, an elongated protrusion from a lumpy base, and he’d taken a wide swing, expecting no more than to see that look of shock in the white witch’s eyes that he missed the days of being able to cause just by walking into a room. “You’ve got some balls, Little Sister.” He made a sudden grab for the page, pulling it out from under her loose grip before she thought to actually get rid of it or put it away, not wanting to miss his opportunity. “And I’m going to hang them up on the wall over the bar. Make sure your art gets the attention it deserves.”

The corner of the page ripped as Naminé tried to keep it pinned, but Vanitas counted it as an acceptable loss. He held up his prize in one hand and summoned a small threatening ball of dark fira in the other to warn Naminé that there were no grab-backs. He squinted at his controversial prize, then cocked his head to the side and tilted the page to different angles as well, trying to judge its best view.  “A bit abstract, but I can see what you’re going for. Brave decision to start with the nonhuman.” 

He glanced at the silently fuming, flushing Naminé around the edges of the page. She was frowning so deeply it furrowed her forehead and it looked like there was the start of humiliated moisture in her eyes as she mumbled that the drawing wasn’t a dick.

Ole’ Vanitas has still got it. Suffer, child of light!

“What is this? A Darkside? Not furry enough to be a Behemoth.”

“It’s not a dick!” Naminé whispered furiously.  “Give it back!”

“Oh?” Vanitas challenged, gesturing with his fireball hand for her to offer a better explanation, though he didn’t pause near long enough for her to provide one, continuing when she didn’t immediately jump in and try to redirect. “Let’s call Ellie over. She should be an expert. I always assumed Larxene used to keep them as trophies. Seemed like a Larxy thing. Kill when mating, then hang the dick on the wall.” He raised his voice, yelling across the small restaurant so his voice carried to the back. “Elrena! Ellie El!”

“It doesn’t look anything like a…what you said!” Naminé continued to protest. 

“That’s what you keep saying.” Vanitas stressed the last word. “But you haven’t said what it is yet. We’ll put it to a vote.” 

“It doesn’t even…It’s purple. Have you ever seen a purple dick?” Naminé desperately tried to appeal to reason.

“What I do on my nights off doesn’t concern you.” Vanitas threw out flippantly as he looked over his shoulder for his gaze to meet the tall blonde marching out of the kitchen, an aura of menace and what was potentially static cling hanging around her shoulders like a wrap.  “Come take a look at this, Ellie. Naminé’s drawing porn in the middle of our dinner rush.” It actually looked more like a bird than a dick, and the place was empty except for Naminé and the two of them, but Naminé was proving just too easy of a target to fluster.

“What are you on about, Vanitas?” The new arrival to the conversation griped, “ You were supposed to be watching the front for any paying customers, not flirting with one of our freeloaders.” Elrena grabbed the drawing away from Vanitas as he waved it in her face. “What are you doing with a picture of one of Xigbar’s arrow guns?”

“That’s an arrow gun?” Vanitas’ incredulous gaze flicked between the page Elrena was now holding and Naminé, whose tangible relief that she wasn’t going to be teamed up on was kind of killing his mood. 

“I told you!”

“You did not,” Vanitas shot back, childishly. “All you said was that it wasn’t a dick.”

“You thought this was a dick?” Elrena scoffed. She passed the page from the hand nearest Vanitas to her other, then passed it off back to Naminé, who shot her a grateful look. “If you’re packing something that looks remotely like this, you need a doctor right away.”

“If you wanted an excuse to take a look, you could just ask, Ellie,” Vanitas retorted, newly grown heart not particularly in it, as he saw his miscalculation in how likely the girls were to team up and how much more relaxed Naminé already was.

“You couldn’t handle me.” Elrena didn’t miss a beat before addressing Naminé again. “Is Weird Dick here bothering you? Want me to fire him? He’s pretty much only useful as a decoration, and most of the time he fails at that.”

“You know you keep me around because I’m better at customer service.” Sadly, it was true. Another lifetime, Elrena had been much more of a people pleaser than Larxene, but, though by comparison she still was, the girl from the age of fairytales had died too many times too long ago not to harden.  “It was just a bit of brotherly ribbing.”

“They’re knives,” Naminé volunteered, inspecting her drawing with new eyes. Did they really look like genitals? “It’s a design for a pair of knives for Braig that keep the same design elements as his arrow guns, and lock together to look like one when not needed for use. I’m going to take a blueprint to Axel and have him see what he can forge. It’s a surprise.” She cast a glare at Vanitas. “Or it was.”

Elrena hummed in thought, a slight rumble of the throat. “Did he ask you to do that?”

“No,” Naminé warbled the lie, blushing once more. 

“What did you do, Ellie?” Vanitas’s vicious glee returned.

“Just told him the truth. Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives.” She tossed her head like she was flicking her over her shoulder and sniffed. “People are too sensitive and easily embarrassed these days.”

“Tell me about it,” Vanitas commiserated, side-eyeing Naminé.

[ocean-of-junk]

I had an artist that within the span of a week stopped posting the most amazing fanart of various anime with excellent line art and big titties that looked natural big titties. Think of that one statue made by that one chinese lesbian.

and then he got ONE commission of, I think it was either Mai from king of fighters or Kasumi from Dead or Alive/ Ninja Gaiden

Anyways the commission was to add giant erect horse dick and just enormous balls. Like he apologized "sorry this isn't my usual work NSFW" ect. Ect.

But then over the next few DAYS he started uploading more and more horse dick big balls and giant titties, like bigger than usual anime womans

And then one day there was a single text post like with a picture of a chibi type guy bowing

"I apologize to all my loyal fans but this is all I'm going to draw from now on. I will now close the asks and please unfollow or block me. Thank you for your support."

I unfollowed, because that just isnt my thing.

This was before the porn ban so I got to check on him a few more times and he was getting better at the dick and balls and he was finally brave enough to post color pieces too and then the porn ban happened and I lost track of him.

Oh oh I have another one and years before that I followed an artist that was posting PG fanart of monsters University like when it first came out and then over the course of a few months started posting monsters university fluff porn. Like full comics of sex scenes between two specific background characters.

Official Tumblr lore

[valend]

Well well well. Look who climbed out of his hole, at last. I was starting to get worried you choked on your own spit while vomiting out another 'message' as you call them. Personally, my only guess to why you do so is because you're sending them to devil himself, as an application letter to the position of his right-hand man. If he does not be so horrified he steps down from his own throne and gives it to you. Might as well happen. Not a surprise if it would, anyways. You are outslutting him enough.As 'pleasant' was your return, I, nevertheless, have a few (by few I mean a lot) of questions and some objections directed towards the argument you had presented in your before-the-last message, the one where you address the theme of your own homosexuality, or, rather, deny the existence of such. Cap, if you'd be to wonder what was my sincere reaction to such a brave declaration. Let me provide an insight as to why. I'll even follow the writing style in which you made a habit of cleansing the brains of anyone who reads a word of text thought out by that pussy-licking brain of yours. Perhaps then you will become conscious of the meaning that my letters do try providing. Firstly, the situation in which the claim was made is absurd enough on its own already. Starting with a mostly sane (compliment) artist, who, on a wishful day, decided to draw our Lord and Daddy Burr. Nothing wrong with that, I reckon. Mais, our sagacious Caesar, whose voice shall make burrites filthy lot, to tremble, covering in fear, his judgement on their heads be brought, decided to slip in, loud and proud with his announcement: "THE TITTIES ARE NOT SEXY THE TITTIES ARE NOT SEXY DO NOT GIVE IN TO THE PROPAGANDA. HE IS NOT A REAL MAN. IF MY DICK STANDS UP THROBBINGLY AT THE SIGHT OF HIM HE IS NOT A MAN HE IS A WOMAN IN ESSENCE. BURRITES LIE ALL THE TIME. JERK OFF TO IT ALL YOU WANT BUT REMEMBER IT DOES NOT COUNT HE IS NOT A MAN. IF YOU'RE A WOMAN WHO LOVES HIM YOU ARE LESBIAN. PERIOD"As compelling as it is to claim this a madman's hysteria, which it most likely is, I will take my time deconstructing it, losing my own sanity in the process."THE TITTIES ARE NOT" that is a subjective matter, and while you are free to express your own opinion, other men are free as well to disagree with you. Repeating your message multiple times does not make it more compelling for others to take your side."DO NOT GIVE IN TO THE PROPAGANDA" What propaganda, exactly? "IF MY DICK STANDS UP THROBBINGLY AT THE SIGHT OF HIM" Interesting. So your own admittance, you do get hard at the sight of Daddy Burr? "HE IS NOT A MAN HE IS A WOMAN IN ESSENCE." So you headcanon him as trans? Nice, but you know your little delusions do not define reality? Your dick reacted positively to an attractive male figure. Seems pretty gay to me."BURRITES LIE ALL THE TIME" Starting off strong with vilification."JERK OFF TO IT ALL YOU WANT" Thanks, I will."IT DOES NOT COUNT HE IS NOT A MAN." It seems to me that thy is deeply in denial of his own feelings."IF YOU'RE A WOMAN WHO LOVES HIM YOU ARE LESBIAN." So, uh. Loving a man, as a woman, makes you lesbian? Got it. Can't argue with the flawless logic."PERIOD." Pls be honest r u a drag queen or not I'm getting mixed signals here As you may have seen, Idiocy spews from every pixel of that shit. Hoe are you fr😭 who is letting this man cook he is burning the whole kitchenAnyway. For us to be able to judge 'Caesar' fully, we must proceed to his 2nd braincell-threatening rant, which I will do in my second letter because I'm literally done with his ass

At least three other people at the bus stop read your message!!! I am impatiently awaiting the second part

[evenasyoungastheyare]

Good morning (here),


It’s tea time here.


How was your week? Any sun there? It has been a grey week here. Grey again today - Uugh.


So we are inspired be the same images! That’s not surprising to me. You are one of my favourite artists. It is so interesting to me - we live so far away from each other yet we see a similar beauty in images.


Have you drawn that image? If so please link me. Are you drawing that image? If so I'm looking forward to the posting. 


I had to look back and see if that photo was the reference used for my first drawing request with you. The banana and cross are in the full image. It is not that image. But I think you did mention me in your reblog of the photo, “#for my dick banana obsessed anon” - too funny!! We have come a long way!!! 


That first drawing is special to me. It is where I was first brave enough to interact with you. And you where kind enough to respond. Also the dick banana and the cross together - I mean - just look at it!!! It makes me laugh and shake my head at the same time.


Now for the serious part - If you ever think I’m infringing on your talent/copying let me know. That is never my intention. Please call me out. I will happily remove the edit. This is a creative release for me, nothing serious. I’m just putting some red on paper. I value you way more than some silly little edit.

I hope it is sunny where you are. Have a great weekend!


Hello my loveliest nonnie,

you made my experience here so much better. I really need encouragement sometimes and your kind words are so important to me. I love your messages very much. Thank you!

Please, dont even think about me calling you out. Why would I do it? You are also one of my favourite artist sooo. And it feels great that we are connected to each other and we are inspired by similar or even same photos. It is just awesome! Btw, I havent drawn that one you asked about yet, but when I planned what I want to draw like two days ago, that one was in my top 5 :D. I am now working on another one but I am going to draw the one with the hand and necklace too.

I didnt know it was you who asked for the dick/banana necklace :D :D. It is funny and I am so happy you found courage and wrote to me (I might seem to be cold sometimes but I think it is partly because we as a nation are - or were - kind of reserved? haha).

It was pretty sunny here today. The weather here is really weird these days. There are high temperatures for this season. It was like 18°C on New Years Eve - very strange. I am going to visit my sister tomorrow and we will work in the garden. I hope the weather will be ok.

I wish you are going to have some sunny days soon!

Have a beautiful weekend ❤️

[megantrancyfanfics]

How the hashira relax~

Being a hashira is a hard job, and puts way too much stress on a person, so it’s only natural that they..relieve it in some way 😉

Both SFW and NSFW, regardless, 18+ MNDI

Hashira’s not included: muichiro Bc he is a BABY!!

WARNING: SFW section of Giyuu consists of spoilers, SO DOES SFW SECTION OF GYOMEI so you’ve been warned!!

Enjoy💜

——————————————————————————

SFW:

• Rengoku when he gets stressed will focus on breathing to ease himself.

• If that doesn’t work, he will 100% go out and get some food: Bc food makes everyone happy

• tbh I don’t see this man getting super stressed Bc he absolutely loves being a hashira so I don’t see him lashing out when stressed.

NSFW:

Solo:

~ when this man gets a moment alone and he’s feeling stressed? He just uses his spit and hand.

~despite him always being very loud, when he masturbate’s he’s very quiet, he doesn’t want to get caught.

~depending on how stressed he is, Rengoku can go multiple times by himself, but normally 1 is good for him.

When with someone:

~ when Rengoku is with someone, this man will go ROUNDS.

~ whoever he’s with better be ready to be overstimulated 100%

~ unlike when he’s with himself, Rengoku is vocal when with a partner: whether it be giving out praise, or just moaning this man doesn’t mind.

~ I see this man being a switch, but if he’s on bottom he’s a power bottom!

~ I feel like this man would be a little lost when it came to aftercare. I feel like at first he didn’t even know what it was, but once you explain it to him I can see him trying his best so please be patient with him!

————————

You couldn’t even answer rengoku’s questions that he was asking you, the way his dick was hitting the spot that makes you want to cry out had your mind drawing blanks. You were trying to keep up with the rhythm he had, but your legs were shaking and burning, you could no longer bounce on your own accord. Rengoku had to grip your hips and help you as the two of you quickly approached your orgasms. “Kyojuro! Kyojuro!” You cried out as you felt that bubble that had been building up in your stomach finally burst as you came all over him. “Good job baby” he said softly as he lifted you off and came onto your chest.

He cleaned you off before he cleaned himself. He kissed your forehead before he wrapped your arms around you before pulling you down with him onto the plush bed under the two of you. He let out a soft laugh before peppering soft kisses all over your face.

“I love you, my sweet y/n.”

“I love you more, kyo”

SFW:

• when shinobu gets stressed, she breaks down.

• she fears she isn’t as good enough as her sister would have been. She misses her so much, and when she’s stressed, all of those insecurities come out.

• it may seem sad to others, but to her it’s a nice way to relax. Being able to take off that brave face and let it all out is calming to her.

NSFW:

Solo:

~ she isn’t usually the type to do masturbate, she deems it to be a waste of time.

~ but when she does, it’s quick, only using oral stimulation to finish.

~ will only do 1 round

When with someone:

~ she’s not really down for a rough fuck. Despite her rude remarks, once you break down her walls she’s very sweet, and very sensitive.

~ she’s normally a top, but like stated before, she’s very sensual with everything she does in the bedroom.

~ when her partner is lucky enough to make her become a bottom, she’s very touchy, running her hands down her partners chest, pulling them into kisses, and giving them praise.

~ I feel like when she’s with someone she’ll do more than 1 round if the partner wants more than one. I think she’s a person pleasure.

~ aftercare to her can sometimes be really important, other days not so much. It honestly depends on how the session went, and how her mindset was going into it.

——————

It had been a rough night. It was one of those nights where shinobu had a breakdown, of course you listened to everything she had said, and comforted her, and it was her idea to start everything.

As she was on top, moaning, with tears running down her face, she had asked you multiple questions that showed her mindset of what you needed to do afterwards. “You’re not going to leave too, right? You love me right? You know I’m only mean to you because I love you right?”

This night you knew it might be for the best if the two of you have a rough yet passionate night together. You flipped the two of you over so you were now on top. You had wiped her tears then kissed her face. “Of course I know you’re only mean to me because you love me. I love you for you. You’re so amazing shinobu. I love you so much I’m never going to leave you.” You’d coo at her as the two of you make sure she has as many orgasms as it takes to make her calm again.

Once you did, you knew it was definitely an aftercare night. You held her close and told her how precious she was to you, and how her sister would be so proud of all of the things she has accomplished. Shinobu may be mean sometimes, but once you get under that rude front: she’s an angel from heaven.

SFW:

~ spending time with Kaburamaru. Allowing Kaburamaru to slither wherever his best friend wants.

~ spending time with Mitsuri is another big stress reliever. Hearing her laugh and just being around her soothes this man beyond belief.

NSFW:

Solo:

~ you think this man will use his hands? Absolutely not.

~ hear me out: he definitely has a flesh light.

~ thinks it’s too tiresome to think up scenarios and use his hands, so he’ll just use the flesh light and call it a night after that.

~ will only do one round. He isn’t much of a soloist.

When with someone:

~ this man doesn’t mind a rough fuck session, nor does he mind a passionate and slow session. It depends on what he wants, or what his partner once.

~ I feel like he’s more of a top, but when he’s on bottom I feel like it’s a more passionate fuck.

~ will go at least 2 rounds. If their partner can handle more and this man is super stressed: he’ll go more.

~ I feel like Obanai can be a little selfish, and you’ll have to remind him that you want pleasure too. But I promise you, he will make sure you’re satisfied 100% once you say you’re feeling a little left out.

~ if you say your not satisfied, you won’t be walking tomorrow and that’s a fact!

~ this man isn’t a fan of aftercare tbh. He’ll do it because you like it, but he could go without it. He doesn’t really understand the purpose of it.

———————

The whole room was filled with the sound of moans from both you and Obanai, and skin slapping together. His hand on your neck as he abused your hole. All you could do was cry. The two of you had been going at it for literal hours. You knew by the time all this was over you’d be sore and not able to walk for the next week! But it was so worth it: the pleasure you were feeling was immaculate. The way Obanai was degrading you, was enough to make you want to cum on the spot. You were so lost in all the pleasure you could see stars in your vision until you heard a familiar hiss right by your head.

You were instantly snapped out of your trance as you turned your head and was looking at Kaburamaru.

“A-are you fucking kidding me Iguro?! I told you we don’t fuck when Kaburamaru is in the same room!” You yelled, which made Obanai stop dead in his tracks.

“I know but no one would watch him..plus I thought Kaburamaru wouldn’t come in here if I kept ‘em in the next room with all of Kaburamaru’s favorite things.”

Let’s just say neither of you got to have your final release.

Sfw:

~ when she’s stressed, she will go out to her favorite restaurant to eat all of her favorite food. She’ll also most likely ask Rengoku and Obanai to tag along too.

~ I also see this girl being into baking, and bringing the sweets she makes to the other hashira. Once Obanai learns that Mitsuri will go see sanemi, he’ll tag along, and if Sanemi says anything rude to her, Sanemi will wake up with new snake bites on his body: if he’s able to wake up at all.

NSFW:

Solo:

~ this girl uses her fingers, and a pink vibrator when she’s really stressed.

~ this girl will go multiple rounds, and despite her trying to be quiet, she can’t be. She will be very noisy.

~ this girl is sensitive. Even the smallest touch of her clit has her wiggling around and whimpering.

When with someone:

~ she enjoys someone dominating her. This girl is a bottom to her core.

~ she’s definitely a creamer, and if you get lucky I bet she’ll even be a squirter.

~ you might need to put something in her mouth Bc she is loud.

~ regardless if her partner can handle it/is up to it: she will go more than 1 round.

~ she’s definitely more into receiving than into giving but once she is satisfied she will tend to you, so be patient!

~ aftercare is very important to her. Not just receiving it but also giving it. She wants her partner to know that she loves them to death, so expect a lot of praise and a lot of just random things coming out of her.

———————

It all started when you walked in on your beloved Mitsuri fingering herself. You had asked if she wanted help, to which she said yes. You knew how sensitive she is, so you took advantage of that. You quickly began sucking and lick her clit. You wanted to overstimulate her, and the fastest way to do that was to abuse her clit. After the first and second time you made her cum, she decided to take over. Pushing you onto your back and climbing on top of you. After a bit of foreplay, she was crying for you, and creaming for you. Oh how her moans were like music to your ears as she was very vocal about being close to her release, and so were you.

When the two of you came down from your highs, Mitsuri was the first to grab your face and kiss all over you. Still coming down from her high, she jumbled up all of her words, which you found absolutely adorable as you wrapped your arms around her and kissed her forehead.

“I have absolutely no idea what you were saying but I love you too.”

SFW:

~ he’ll go and visit the little graves he hand made and placed up for Sabito and his sister and talk to them. Or he’ll go and visit his sisters grave. Being able to talk to them gives him ease.

~ if he isn’t in the right headspace to do that, you’ll find Giyuu by any body of water. I get it y’all are like “haha bc he’s the water hashira” but no- I feel like watching natural running water calms him. Especially if there’s a waterfall- Giyuu will be there for literal hours.

NSFW:

Solo:

~ is a very quiet person to begin with, and this will follow into the bedroom when he’s by himself, but he will let out a few grunts when he finishes, but they’re not very loud.

~ the classic spit and hand is all he uses

~ he’ll only go one round: but Giyuu takes his time when he masturbates.

When with someone:

~ is more of a passionate lover, isn’t really down for quickies, or rough fucks. He wants his lover to feel every ounce of love and affection he has for them.

~ just like when he maturbates, he likes to only go 1 round, but if his partner wants another round, I can see him giving them oral until they’re satisfied.

~ power bottom vibes, but will get on top

~ Giyuu had absolutely no idea wtf aftercare was. 100% you had to explain it to him, now he likes to do it. His favorite thing is cuddling, and laying his head on your chest. Being able to hear your heartbeat is relaxing to him <3

——————

Giyuu being on top is very unusual. Giyuu didn’t have much confidence in himself so he’s usually a power bottom. But, the way he was touching all over your body was different. His body language was different. “I know I don’t really know how to show it but I love you so much.” He’d say peppering kisses on your face. Everything he was doing was so passionate: even when foreplay was over with, and it was onto the main event, Giyuu was still on top, complimenting you, and saying very sweet things to you. You’re used to passionate fucks with Giyuu but this one takes the cake!

When the two of you finally finished, he held you close to him as tight as he could. That’s when it hit you: today the two of you went to visit sabito and the others, he’s expressed before that he loves when you tag along to visit their graves, but today you actually talked to Sabito. I bet that meant a lot to him.

“Giyuu, I love you more than anything in this world. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“No y/n I’m the one that’s lucky to have you. You make me so happy, thank you. I love you”

SFW:

• painting. This man I feel like would absolutely love to paint, and he’d totally be the type that once he’s done he’ll show it off and be like “look how flashy this is! Look how flamboyantly awesome this (whatever he drew) is!” And everyone else would be like “😒yeah- looks nice Tengen.”😂

• taking his wives to go shopping. I feel like tengen’s love language is gifting, so I feel like when he’s stressed he’ll take his girls out and their smiles and laughs (and yes even the bickering AS LONG AS NOTHING AS BEING THROWN) can calm this man down.

NSFW:

Solo:

~ you really think this man is gonna do it solo when he has 3 wives? No-

When with someone (new):

~ I feel like everyone in this relationship will get very excited when someone new enters the bedroom.

~ their new lover will be WORN OUT by the time the 4 of ‘em are done with them. Everyone will want a turn with the new lover: good luck.

~ I feel like Tengen doesn’t make a lot of noise or speaks a lot when fucking. I feel like he kinda just zones into what he’s doing and he’s that way until the end.

~ when it comes to Tengen and his wives in the bedroom: there’s no limit to anything they won’t do in the bedroom: they only have a safe word.

~ I feel like in the bedroom Tengen doesn’t give much oral to anyone, (but he expects someone to give him head!)

~ I also feel like he’s like “you all have at it” until all of you are ready for him then he’ll come in and destroy all of his lovers ✨flamboyantly✨.

———————

Tengen sat back against the headboard of his bed as his 3 wives had fun with you. Hina going at your neck, while suma and Makio went after your more sensitive areas. Tengen got off on seeing all 4 of you getting off in front of him, it was so hot to him, but only for a little. Tengen doesn’t like not being the center of attention.

“Hello, I know you 3 are happy to have a new person joining us but don’t forget about me. Now who will do the honor?” Of course you volunteered; and the 3 girls were happy to let you go first. You were quick to swirl your tongue around his cock before sucking him off. While you attended to Tengen, Makio was the one to go after your hole, then hina attended to makio’s pussy, leaving suma to whine and crawl towards Tengen. He was very happy to make suma bounce on his fingers until she released onto them.

When Tengen was satisfied with his blow job, he requested all of his wives to take a turn in order of when they were married to him. While suma had her turn, you, hina, and Makio continued to have fun. Then when it was makio’s turn, you decided to overstimulate suma while hina worked on both of you. By the time it was your turn: your legs could barely hold you up. Your body shaked and jolted from all of the pleasure.

“Tengen I-”

“Are you worn out doll?” He’d say with a laugh before flipping you onto your back, as he looked down at you with hungry eyes. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to not have my fun with you while my wives got to exhaust you~” he cooed as he slid his dick into your already slick hole. You cried out as your legs shook. You’ve never felt this much pleasure in all your life. By the time the two of you finished, his 3 wives were already curled up in a ball asleep. You were fighting sleep which made Tengen laugh. “C’mon, time to get into the cuddle ball and get some sleep. Better get used to this.”

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if you became his 4th lover.

SFW:

• one word: training. Whether it be sword training, going up against another hashira for “experience”, or exercising, this man will do it excessively until he’s feeling better.

• NOBODY SAY THIS TO ANYONE: but I feel like making ohagi will also really calm this hot headed man down.

• also…this man also calms down by taking his beetle out of its cage and letting it run around his home. Just watching it be free for a little bit makes him happy.

NSFW:

Solo:

~ this man can do it a couple different ways.

~ normally he’ll just use his hand and spit, and he’s normally quick with it: just wanting to feel that sweet release more than anything.

~ but sometimes: he does take his time, and I feel like he’d take a page out of obanai’s book and have a flesh light. But he’ll only use that when he’s beyond stressed and the stress is actually starting to piss him off a bit.

When he’s with someone:

~ I know this is cliche, but I feel like Sanemi is very sweet and sentimental deep down: so I feel like he wouldn’t just fuck any person that comes around: I feel like he’d only do it with a lover/significant other.

~ I feel like Sanemi can be very sweet in the bedroom when he puts his mind to it, but you can’t teach a dog new tricks when it doesn’t want to learn. With that being said I also can see Sanemi taking all of his frustrations out on his lover and fucking them into oblivion.

~ this man is soooo into overstimulation. He loves the way his partner’s moans will turn into whines and whimpers

~ he’s talkative in the bedroom: and will let out a few grunts here and there: especially if he’s going hard. EX: “you like the feeling of this dick inside you? Yeah?” “You feel so fucking good tightening around my dick you’re being so good for me I’m going to make sure you don’t walk tomorrow”

~ unlike most of the other hashira I feel like aftercare to this man is actually really important. He knows there are times he can go overboard, and he honestly beats himself up about it sometimes. Expect a nice warm bath ran for the both of you, and afterwards some nice cuddles. But I sure do hope you don’t gotta pee in the middle of the night, Bc Sanemi sleeps like a rock and you won’t be leaving his arms until he wakes up😂

—————

It was one of those nights, Sanemi was pissed about a mission he had went on: it didn’t go according to plan, which means he takes his anger out on you.

And that’s exactly what’s happening. You were bent over the bed, all you could do was hold onto the sheets and cry out in pleasure. Sanemi was roughly grabbing your hair as he spoke. “You like this baby? Yeah? You like getting fucked with this thick cock? What’s wrong? Am I fucking you so good you’re going dumb?” When you couldn’t respond to him, you heard a tch before he pulled out. “Lay down on the fucking bed.” He spat out, and you quickly did as you were told. He followed after you, and before he shoved his dick back into you, he took a good look at your face: a shit eating grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Aww look at you~ drooling and crying over this dick. Tell me- who does this belong to?” He asked as he rubbed his dick on your entrance. “Y-you” you choked out. “Good girl/boy/love. You do have some common sense left huh.” He said as he shoved it back inside. By this point the two of you were so close to your releases you both were just holding it in so this fuck session could last longer. “I-I’m cumming!” You cried out, which made Sanemi thrust harder. “You better cum all over my dick. Fucking cum.” He commanded as your insides tightened around his cock, making both of you cum at the same time.

As sanemi rode out his high, you watched as his once small angry pupils dilated, as he looked down at you, regret written all over his face. “I’m sorry for going so hard..” he’d say softly before picking you up bridal style and walking to the bathroom. He would then sit you on the lid of the toilet, then start up a bath. This will be the only time he’ll ask you what scent of bath bomb you’d want. He doesn’t want to be seen as being girly, but he actually does like bath bombs, but he’d rather die than admit that. Once the two of you are inside of the tub he’ll pull you close to him, play with your hair, and tell you how good you were and how much he loves you, but the second you start falling asleep he’ll wake you up and clean you up then the two of you will get out of the bath. Hope you’re a cuddler bc Sanemi will hold you close until the next day🖤

SFW:

• This isn’t a shocker, but I feel like meditation will almost always help this man when he’s feeling stressed.

• much like Giyuu, I feel like once gyo became a hashira he went out into the woods and placed little hand made graves for all of the kids that passed away, and goes to visit, talk, and pray to them. It hurts him to do it, it makes him feel like a failure: but it always seems to somehow ease him.

NSFW:

Solo:

~ I don’t really see gyo being a masturbating type of guy if I’m going to be honest. I feel like he’ll wait until he gets a lover. Plus, I feel like he’s never this stressed to want to do something this impure.

When with someone:

~ I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: this 👏man👏 is 👏a 👏gentle 👏giant 👏👏

~ is so caring and passionate when he finally finds someone that doesn’t consider him scary for his size. He will always show them how much he loves them and that carries into the bedroom.

~ he’s more of a slow lover, he’s very fearful of hurting you (we all know this man is packing a deadly weapon down there y’all cannot tell me otherwise!!)

~ he’s def a body worshiper. He will compliment every part of your body: even if he can’t see it, it’s apart of you and you are like an angel that was sent to him.

~ please praise this man when y’all are fucking. Sometimes he forgets to enjoy himself Bc he’s so worried about hurting you. Please reassure him and tell him to relax and enjoy himself!

~ aftercare means everything to this man. Like I said he wants to show his lover how much they mean to him, so when it comes to gyo, aftercare is limitless.

~ If you say you’re hurting after your session with him? Hot bath! You two are exhausted? You bet your ass you will be resting on his chest or he will be cuddling you.

~He will praise you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, and tell you how much you mean to him and how much he loves you. Please do the same to him: Bc he is still secretly fearful that he did hurt you.

———

“You’re so handsome/beautiful/stunning my love.” Gyomei says as he kisses your face. “Are you sure about this?”

“Gyo you’re acting like this is our first time.” You softly say with a laugh as you kiss him. “I’m ready and I want this. Relax a little my love you won’t hurt me I promise and if you are I’ll tell you.” With a look of worry on his face, he enters you. A moan of pleasure escapes from both yours and his lips.

It’s passionate, the room is filled with the sounds of soft skin slaps, praise, and groans and moans, both of you are in total bliss. Both of you are planting kisses on each other everywhere.

“I’m close” you cry out before Gyomei captures your lips with his. You wrap your arms around his neck as you cream all over his dick, shortly after he came. He was quick to start praising you, but you could sense the worry.

“I love you so much y/n. You did so good for me. Thank you-”

“Gyo I’m not hurt don’t worry.” You’d say running your fingers through his hair before resting them on his cheeks. “Are you sure my love?”

“I am, now relax my big teddy bear.” You say with a soft giggle. You watch as his once fearful face relaxed into a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted.” “We can’t have that.” He says with a soft laugh as he scoops you up and lays on his back, placing you on his chest. He pulled up the covers, and started playing with your hair.

“I love you, Gyomei~” you coo. And that’s all he needed to hear: you saying that you loved him. His whole body felt like it turned to mush. He never knew it was possible to love a person this much

End💜

This took so long to finish I really do hope y’all liked it😫

[turtlecleric]

Let’s try again. Mikey POV for you @thelaundrybitch. Goddamn this is sad.

---

When Mikey makes it to your window, he peers through it to see you laying on your couch. The only light in the room comes from the television, and the way the colors wash over you is mesmerizing. He wonders how long you've been lying there. He wonders if you were hoping he'd come by. 

Stop it. Stop looking for signs that aren't really there. Didn't you learn your lesson the first time?

He takes a breath and taps on the glass. You don't react, but that's okay. It was more of a courtesy anyway since your window stays unlocked.

For convenience, of course. 

He lifts the window up and carefully crawls through, making enough noise so that you can tell he’s there. Still, though, you don't stir. As he draws closer, he takes in your faraway look and feels his stomach drop. He'd hoped you might be doing a little better tonight. Apparently not. 

“Bad day?” he murmurs. 

You blink at the ceiling before turning your head toward him. He can see the moment your eyes focus, the moment you realize he's there. You nod, and he kneels in front of you and leans forward to get a closer look.

You look tired. Sad. Your eyes slip closed and he feels his frown deepen. You've been having more bad days than good, lately. He's the last person who could judge, but this is the third time in a row that he's shown up to find you high. Not a good sign. 

Mikey reaches out to brush the hair from your face. When your eyes open again, he speaks. “You wanna talk about it?”

Another blink. Another breath. Then you shake your head, and he isn't surprised - you almost never want to talk about it. That doesn't stop him from hearing you, anyway. 

“What did you take?”

Your arms raise above your head, twisting slowly like ribbons in the wind. “Just some… edibles.”

Could be worse, he muses. Then he remembers the last time you did talk about it, and hums to himself. Could be a lot worse. 

He wants to fix it. Badly. He wants to make you smile, make you feel good. He wants you. 

“Can I stay with you?” he asks.

It's an old dance. You both know the steps, could follow them in your sleep at this point. Ever since the first time he showed up looking for something, anything, to make him forget, to take away the aching pit that made a home in his chest. Ever since he first got high with you and felt brave enough to ask, you've always answered him the same way. 

“I'd like that, Stranger.”

You're smiling. Like it's this- this cute inside joke. And it is. It is. But the title is just another reminder for him not to get too attached. 

Don't fall when there's no one to catch you, Mikey. Don't make the same mistake twice.

He picks you up, holding you tightly against his plastron. You smell like your shampoo, like your body wash. Like you. You're just in underwear and a tshirt, and the skin of your legs is hot against his arm. You're always so warm. Soft. He doesn't want to let go. 

Let go, Mikey. Don't be an idiot. 

He places you in your bed and pulls the blanket over you so you don’t get cold, then goes to set up the record player. Puts on one of your favorite albums before turning to stare at you. Your hair is wild, and there's a faint smile on your face. He could almost pretend you're smiling because of him. 

…It isn't such a crazy thought. Is it?

Stop. Stop it. 

He slides under the blanket with you and straddles your waist. You look up at him, eyes hazy and body relaxed, and he's blown away for the hundredth time by how beautiful you are. Kissing you is less of a conscious decision and more of an inevitable response. He needs to taste you, to devour you. To sink his teeth into your neck and never let go. He settles for suckling on the skin of your throat, nipping at your ear lobe, licking into your mouth. The soft moans he elicits from you are enough to have his dick hardening inside of him already. His hands start to roam, kneading and grabbing and squeezing and fuck. Fuck. He loves the way you feel. The way you smell. The way you taste and look and sound and, and everything. He loves-

Foolish boy. He has one purpose here, he knows. And it's not to love and be loved. 

It never is. 

You're really out of it tonight, though. You probably won't even fully remember this tomorrow. Maybe… maybe he can pretend out loud. Just for tonight. 

He pushes your shirt up, pausing to take in the sight of your bare chest. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, hands gently palming your breasts. He feels your nipples harden beneath his hand and leans down to flick his tongue back and forth over one, rolling the other between his fingers. Another moan, a whisper of his name that he could pretend means more than it does. 

His mouth finds yours again. One hand holds him up, and the other sneaks into your panties and starts to rub. Wet already. He could pretend it's not the drugs coursing through you that has your pulse so erratic. He could pretend he’s not just… some guy to you. 

Mikey presses his forehead to yours as his fingers work you open. He lets himself talk, lets himself pretend. “You're so pretty,” he murmurs. “All wet and easy, just for me, yeah?” 

You don't respond. That's okay. 

He gets lost in you. In pumping his fingers into your heat and making you whine. Feeling you writhe beneath him, feeling how wet you are for him. Hearing it. Smelling it. It's enough to have him dropping and tugging his pants off in minutes. Your panties are soaked when he finally pulls them off of you.

God. You’re so beautiful. So pretty underneath him. He can’t believe he’s lucky enough to see you like this. Lucky enough for you to let him do this with you. And, God, God, he wishes it was enough. He wishes he wasn’t so painfully aware of how little he’s wanted, how replaceable he really is. 

Just for now, he can pretend.

Mikey watches your face intently as he pushes in. The way your brows pinch. The way your mouth falls open on a gasp, your chest rising with your inhale. 

“Fuck,” he groans, stilling when he’s as far in as he can go. You clench around him, and it makes him shudder. His heart is thudding against his ribs, louder than the music that weaves through your bedroom. “So tight.” He kisses your collarbone, your shoulder. Tries to remember to breathe. “So perfect, love, you’re - fuck, you feel so good. So good for me.”

You still don’t respond. That’s okay. It’s okay.

He starts to move. Slowly, carefully. Finding the angle he knows you like. Sucking on your bottom lip. Kissing along your jaw. Every moment of delicious friction, pressure, warmth, fuck, every sigh and whimper that he pulls from you - it makes lightning course through him. There is starlight running through his veins, and it’s so easy to pretend you feel the same way that he does when you say his name like that, when you reach for him and pull him closer. 

When you come, so does he, and he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop. “I love you,” Mikey breathes. “I love you so much.” 

If he kisses you, it means you aren’t saying it back because you can’t. It means your mouth is too busy sliding against his to form the words. Right?

Stupid boy.

Everything that comes after is like a ritual to him now. Almost like penance for daring to pretend. 

Cleaning you up. Finding a clean pair of underwear and slipping them on you. Massaging your legs and setting a glass of water on your bedside table and tucking you in. He hovers when he’s done, wanting to stay. To really stay. But that’s not what you want him for. That’s not what anyone wants him for.

“Hey, Stranger,” your wrecked voice calls. He hesitates only for a moment before taking your hand in his. You don’t say anything else, and he wonders if you’ve fallen asleep. He says your name and feels your thumb start to brush against the back of his hand. It’s strange that you’re here, you’re right here, yet he misses you. 

He waits. You don’t say anything else, though your thumb continues to caress his skin. So easy to pretend, when you do things like this, but it only makes it hurt more. Mikey says your name again.

“Nothing,” you whisper, and he doesn’t know why he feels disappointed. He doesn’t know what he expected. “Be safe, okay?”

“I will.” He doesn’t want to go. He wants to ask, again, Can I stay with you? Please, can I stay? “Good night.” 

He hears you hum. Lets his hand linger in yours for a moment more before pulling away. Hesitates, still, in the doorway to your bedroom, watching you breathe. 

He wants to stay. Please. He wants…

He leaves.

What.... did I just write? Hey @justalotoffanfiction this is your fault, I think.

bay!mikey x fem reader, nsfw I guess but the vibe is more... melancholy?

cws: drugs/altered state of mind, negative thoughts/view of self

---

"Bad day?"

It takes you a moment to fully process that he's there. Another moment to fully process the words. You just nod, and the way his bandana falls over his shoulder captures your attention. Spilling down his plastron, swaying in the air as he bends down. Strange, you think. That it's orange like fire but flows like water.

Yeah, okay. You're definitely feeling it.

You feel gentle fingers brush your hair away from your eyes, and you realize they had fallen shut at some point. When they open again, Mikey is still there. He looks concerned. You wonder why.

"You wanna talk about it?"

A lot of answers run through your mind. Yes. No. Will it always hurt like this. Do you think I'm pretty. When does it stop.

You settle with shaking your head.

"What did you take?"

You sigh, stretching your arms above your head and blinking slowly. What did you take?

"Just some... edibles."

The question makes you smile. He always asks, and you've always responded with the same thing, ever since the beginning. "I'd like that, Stranger."

He hums, and it sounds sad. Again, you wonder why. Is he thinking of her again? The vibrations of his voice tangle with your heartbeat. You feel your pulse in his mouth. Your chest hurts.

"Can I stay with you?"

He tucks his arms beneath you and holds you close, carrying you to the bedroom. You always love the way he does this. Handles you like you're precious. Like you matter. You sigh when he places you on the bed and pulls the blanket over you.

Soft. Warm. Safe. Such a pretty lie.

The world flows around you. Like the air is water. But that would make his bandana like the air, and that's not quite right, is it? You hear Mikey moving around the room, then a song starts to play beneath the waves. Hm. Your record player. He must've pulled it out.

The bed dips, and you open your eyes to see him settle over you. His eyes are unbelievably blue. You want to dive in headfirst. He kisses you, and you let your eyes flutter shut. Slow and wet and cool, stealing your breath like there's water in your lungs. Maybe you did dive in.

Could you ever love me?

Treacherous thought. Dangerous, in fact, because it would be easy to pretend that he could. To imagine that you're anything to him other than a way to get what he wants. To feel his lips on your neck and his hand on your waist and interpret that as love.

Could you ever love me? Could you?

His hand massages your side, your hip, your thigh. You let him do what he wants. Let yourself relax. Might as well give him the one thing you're apparently good for, right? Before he leaves again?

Would you stay? If I asked, would you stay?

You're losing time, you think. You said something, didn't you? Or was that him? Him. His hands, his lips, his tongue. It's hard to think past what you feel, what you hear. Oh, he is talking.

You focus on the rumble of his voice, and his words echo in your head long after he says them. Beautiful. Tight. Perfect. Love.

Love? You're imagining things again. Focus on what's real, silly girl. Stop wishing on the stars you keep seeing in his eyes.

More even than the drugs, he manages to silence your thoughts. To fill you up so completely, to replace everything else with only him and you and the feeling of flying. You wish you could stay in this forever. With him.

But you can't.

He's always sweet. Kind. Gentle and respectful and consistent with his aftercare in a way no other man has ever been with you. But he always leaves right after, which means you can never fully enjoy it.

There's a stillness, now. A silence. Is he even there? Or did he leave you already?

"Hey, Stranger," you mumble softly. A hand finds yours. Not yet, then.

You must be quiet for too long, because he calls your name. Your thumb brushes across the back of his hand. The texture of his scales is pleasant, and you wonder if anyone has ever told him that. You wonder if she ever told him that.

You wonder if he's drowning in the air, too, or if he's learned to swim without you.

He says your name again, like a question. You want to ask him to stay. You want him to stay. You want...

"Nothing," you whisper into the water. "Be safe, okay?"

He hesitates. Swallows. Presses a kiss to your forehead. And it would be so easy to see that as love. So easy, if you weren't you. If you were worth anything at all.

"I will. Good night."

You hum, and his hand lingers for a moment more before it pulls away from your own. The world still spins, even now, and it's not fair. It's never been fair.

When you're sure that he's gone, you let yourself cry.

___

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