#pronouns/sexuality/gender sheet

[airbendertendou]

bonten men seeing you with contacts for the first time.

[ glasses version ] no pronouns used / gender neutral. lowercase intended. cw : sanzu touches your throat non-sexually / non-threateningly , mentions of acne in kakuchos , reader wears a gloss / lipstain in kokos

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

— MIKEY! ♥︎

it wasn't ideal, your current situation. putting on your most expensive jewelry ; practicing your laugh ; extending your vocabulary just in case — it wasn't something you did often.

however, your biggest investor was invited to a gala, therefore you were meant to join in aswell.

letting out a breath, you enter the ballroom turned meeting area. you blink, squinting lightly at the twinkling lights before relaxing your eyes. with a small nod to yourself, you put on your prettiest smile before turning left and beginning your evening of socialization.

your feet feel numb ; your voice is aching with use ; your eyes have long since dried out — and you hadn't even seen mikey yet. he was the entire reason you were pushed to this gathering. settling your back against a wall, you let out another breath, convincing yourself to stay for just a little longer.

"you look nice."

the voice gets your attention immediately as you straighten up. mikey stands alone, just a little ways in front of you. he tilts his head and you swear his lips tilt up the slightest bit. you smooth sweaty, trembling hands over your outfit before speaking. "i've been looking for you, mister sano."

mikey's eyes call to yours — you really can't look away. he lets out a huff — you'd never say he laughed. "we're past the mister sano bit, aren't we, [name]?"

"i guess." your eyes drop to the floor briefly, just to get away from his heated gaze. a small tsk is heard before your chin is held in a gentle grasp, pulling your eyes to his once more. "mikey?"

"better." his hand drops but your face is still warm from his touch. "let's talk somewhere privately, yeah?"

— SANZU! ♥︎

a movie you don't even know the name of plays in the background as you eat your chosen snack. all day you've tried to ignore him and his pearl-blue eyes that wouldn't look away from you.

you click your tongue, turning to send a glare his way. "you are staring, sanzu haruchi—"

with a squeal, you find yourself on your back. you let out an astonished laugh as sanzu's knees go to either side of you, caging you beneath him. you gape up at him in shock, "haru!"

"let me look at you." his voice is gentle ; tender in a way you hadn't heard before. sure, it'd been years since you spoke, but he wasn't known for being soft. your eyes widen at the thought — sanzu lets out a sigh, his body slightly sagging into yours. "there we go..."

you blink a few times, begging for your contacts to stay in place as they begin to feel dry at the edges — crisp the longer you keep your eyes open. you can't help but induldge him, though, let him look at you for however long he wants.

“how dare you hide this from me,” haru caresses your cheek softly. “can't believe you’re so pretty.”

"i've always been pretty," you reply with a small frown.

sanzu grins wickedly, his hand trailing down to your throat before laying it there. "yeah... always pretty."

— KAKUCHO! ♥︎

you're avoiding him. really, you're avoiding everyone in the office at this point. with a frown, kakucho gathers a handful of blank or useless sheets of paper, slipping them into an empty folder before heading over to your office.

"just leave it in the bin!" your hand stretches out, pointing to the blue, overflowing tray. your back is turned to him, hunched over as the sound of keys clicking meets his ears. his frown deepens before the back of your chair is grabbed and spun so you now face him. you gasp, "kaku—!"

he's kneeling in front of you before you can blink. a long, relieved breath escapes his chest as he settles his forhead on your knee. "god, i—[name], i thought something was wrong with you. thought i did something to upset you."

your bottom lip is chewed through, but you continue to nibble on it anyways. "...sorry."

kakucho raises his head so that his chin sets on your knee now. gone is his work exterior and in its place is the softened, lovesick daze he shows only to you. "they look nice on you — can see you better this way."

you let out a groan, throwing your head back before looking down at him once more. "i'm breaking out so bad right now! only thing people can see is that!"

he wants to reassure you — really, acne is normal and you're still beautiful with it — but he's so enamoured by you. the way your eyes are a little glassy because of your contacts ; the frown on your lips ; the way you've been stroking his hair mindlessly just because you could—

kakucho sweeps in and steals a quick kiss. you gasp again — kissing during work hours?! he was a horrid man. kakucho grins before patting your thighs and standing.

— KOKONOI! ♥︎

the feeling of guilt creeps up as koko's doorbell rings. his hair is tossed into a bun, white strands falling into his eyes as he opens the door. you stumble in, halfway through a sentence as he offers you a pair of house slippers.

"—and, really, you're doing me such a favor!" you plop down onto his couch unceremoniously, letting out a huff as you do. "this was the worst night for me. your call was a blessing."

kokonoi blinks as he stands frozen in front of you. with a frown, he bends at the waist and simply waits until you're looking up at him. you tilt your head, phone open on your notes app as you stop mid-way through your sentence.

sharpened eyes drift down the rest of your attire. wrinkle-free clothes ; your nicest shirt ; your lucky socks? all combined with the contacts you're wearing and the gloss staining your lips— kokonoi stands straight and crosses his arms. "where have you been, exactly?"

"a date." you let out another sigh, rolling your eyes at his rigid posture. "not a good one, i assure you! had the audacity, asking to see me again — after chewing with his mouth open and spitting his food all over mine! i can never look at tortellini noodles the same."

kokonoi taks a seat beside of you, the work he called you for out of his mind as he gestures for you to keep talking. "you called just when he was going to put his number in my phone." a sneaky, proud grin grows on your lips. "i have your bonten tattoo as the picture, so that really scared him off."

while you talk, you scroll on your phone until his contact photo is shown. it's true — his side profile is fully in view. what catches his eye, however, is his name. a simple haji with a spinning heart emoji sends his own heart into a frenzy.

at kokonoi's grin, you sense trouble. you clear your throat, taking your phone from his view before scrolling on it again. "what was it you needed from me, exactly?"

an arm is thrown over your hips as kokonoi pulls himself close. his nose bumps against yours before he slides just slightly away. "for you to not go on anymore dates. unless they're with me, of course."

—— tried another one of these silly ones <3 if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyorev content, let me know! ♥︎

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @night-shadowblood-writes2 @chrofeisnightmaregf @natsumesakasakisupremacy @emperorsnero

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[runawrites-blog]

Pegging Isn't New For Me, Friendo (Deadpool x Reader)

Summary: Pegging Wade always turns him into a whiney brat. (Gender-Neutral Reader) Word Count: 1,232 Warnings: SMUT (Minors Do Not Interact). Explicit Sexual Content. Pegging. Strap-Ons. No Y/N. No Pronounds For Reader but Reader uses a Strap-On to fuck Wade. A/N: I was inspired by that one line in the new Deadpool movie (see gif) but this doesn't contain any spoilers for the movie. Again, there are no pronouns used for Reader but if I messed up and used any tell me and I will change it. But again, Reader uses a Strap-On to fuck Wade, despite no depictions of the Reader's genitals. Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58280992

---

“Just put it in.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Pegging isn’t new for me, Babe.”

“I know but I still don’t want to hurt you. Let me prepare you for it.”

“I will heal just fine, come on!”

“I know you will but I still don’t want you to be hurt.” You said sternly, cocking an eyebrow up as Wade clicked his tongue petulantly. “Don’t be a fucking brat, Hon. You act like this every time we do this.”

“Because you always take hours to put your silicone dick inside of me.”

Wade complained but when you scissored the fingers you already had inside of him his complaints tempered off into a surprised moan. You gave him an affectionate smirk, pushing them in a little deeper and angling them in search of his prostate. It took you a moment but you knew you’d found it when at a particularly sharp thrust of your fingers Wade all but arched off the bed, gripping the sheets, mouth falling open in a silent moan.

“Did that finally shut you up, Hon?”

“Sewing-- Sewing my mouth shut in 2009 wasn’t even enough to-- to permanently shut me up.” He chuckled breathlessly, grinding down against your lubed-up fingers. “I don’t think you’ll have any more luck.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“Maybe it would help if you-- Fuck, if you finally showed that strapon inside of me.” He complained, squirming as you kept up your ministrations and fingered him slowly. “You know I’m not too proud to beg, either. Please, please fuck me. I need it!”

Rolling your eyes affectionately you leaned down to kiss him, drawing a surprised moan from him as he leaned up into the contact, biting down on your lip as you shoved a fourth lubed-up finger inside of him. You scissored them gently, relishing in the way Wade moaned against your lips, writhing underneath you and his head falling to the side to bury against the crook of his arm.

“Please, please put it in!” He panted out, arching off the bed when you once again hit his prostate. “I know you want to help the writer hit-- hit their word count but-- but this is torture!”

Rolling your eyes at his rambling you leaned down and kissed him, shutting him up for a few seconds as you angled your fingers to his prostate again. That got a moan out of him and when he arched off the bed once more, he looked at you pleadingly.

“Put it in, Babe. I’m ready. I need it.”

“Alright. Lie back and relax for me, Hon.” You instructed, stroking your free hand down his chest as you pulled the other one from inside of him, watching as he whined at the loss before forcing himself to relax. “Good boy, Wade.”

His high keening moan was music to your ears and you smiled softly as you secured your strap on around your waist, clipping it shut in the back before grabbing the bottle of lube and squirting a generous amount of it onto the dildo. Wade was watching you with bated breath, mouth agape and tongue poking out to lick his lips.

“Hold your left leg up for me, Honey.”

Wade scrambled to oblige, hooking his hand underneath his left knee and lifting it up to give you better access to his hole, his fingers digging into the flesh of his thigh. Gingerly, so as not to hurt him, you started sliding the strap-on inside of him and Wade’s mouth fell open, breathless gasps leaving his body until you bottomed out. He breathed a sigh of relief, nails digging into his thigh.

“Finally!”

“Impatient.” You joked softly, taking his free hand and bringing it to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Ready for me to move, Honey?”

“Fuck, yes!”

Smiling at his eagerness you began to move, starting off slow but quickly picking up your pace as Wade started begging you to do so. And when you hit his prostate again, this time with the strap-on and not your fingers, the filthy keening noise he made sent a shiver of lust down your spine. From there on, you kept aiming for that spot, quickly turning Wade into a moaning, drooling mess beneath you, babbling pleas for you to keep going. Even in this state, he couldn’t stop running his mouth and it made you smile a little.

When you saw that his leg was slipping from his grip you grabbed his ankle and hoisted his leg over your shoulder in one swift motion, making Wade’s eyes grow wide as he watched you. But his eyes didn’t stay on your face for too long because this position allowed for a whole new angle at which you could fuck into him, at which you could hit his prostate over and over again.

“Keep your leg there for me, Wade. Can you do that for me, Honey?”

“Yes, yes, yes. ‘Can do that.” He rambled on, nails forming crescent moons into his skin as he kept his leg over your shoulder with a little help of your hand on his ankle. “‘Can to that for you!”

“Good boy.”

“Fuck, so close, please. Please, keep going!”

“Can you come just from me fucking your ass?” You crooned, leaning forward to get closer to his face and give him a small smile. “Without touching your pretty dick? Can you do that?”

“Yes, yes, I can!”

You leaned back again, still smiling as you picked up your speed and fucked into him in earnest, every thrust aiming at his prostate and your hand clamping around the ankle of his leg that was still over your shoulder. Wade was moaning obscenely underneath you, back arching off the bed and his free hand grabbing onto the sheets. You could tell he was close, dick leaking pre-cum and his moans becoming more erratic.

“Come for me, Honey. Be a good boy for me, Wade.”

Your words, combined his a particularly well-angled thrust into his prostate sent him over the edge and he shouted out your name as he came, ribbons of white shooting over his exposed stomach as his hole clenched around your strap-on. His back arched so much it was hard for you to even fuck him through his orgasm but you managed, intent on drawing out his pleasure for as long as possible.

But when his moans turned into overstimulated whines you slowed your movements, bringing your hands down to gently stroke his hips as you pulled out of him. Wade whined at the loss but quieted down soon enough, letting his leg drop onto the bed and watching through half-lidded eyes as you lay down next to him. Gently, you began to stroke his chest, smiling down at him.

“Are you alright there? You’re very quiet.”

“Just got to catch my breath so I can keep on yapping.” Wade joked, turning onto his side, so he could rest his head on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m not written that much out of character. Give me a minute and I’ll be right back to talking your ear off.”

“Can’t wait.” You joked and wrapped your arms around him. “Do you need anything right now? Water or something to eat? A bath maybe?”

“All sound nice but later.”

“What do you need right now?”

“Hold me for a second.”

“That, I can do.”

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

“no purity”

❤︎ synopsis — he’s such a tease… always egging you on and irritating you. so now, he’ll just prove his point to you over and over again

pairing: vessel x afab!reader

theme: smut ❣︎

a/n: first sleep token fic! this was done per the request of my lovely friend @dead-end-fanfiction , the ask will be linked here. enjoy~

cw: nsfw content. gender neutral pronouns for the reader. thigh riding. lots of teasing from vessel. slight dirty talk. degradation.

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“you’re tense, darling,”

“shut up, i know i am,”

how did they find themself in this situation again?

y/n was currently perched up on vessel’s thigh, staring down at him with a mixture of both irritation and anticipation. their breath was haste, dripping with an unknown sense of desire as they stared down the dark, mysterious man, who only wore a pearly white grin underneath his mask.

they were both in vessel’s office. he was leaned back against his red, velvety chair, the fabric brushing against vessel’s bare thighs. he looked cozy, despite the rather sexual situation he was in with the person who’s thighs were straddling his leg.

vessel just let out a chuckle, amused by the predicament they both found themselves in.

“well?” he started out, his voice feigning innocence underneath his knowing smirk. “you gonna start moving or what?”

they could only scowl at the masked man, not appreciating how smug he was being. “with that attitude, i won’t be moving at all.” y/n hissed out with narrow eyes, but that only seemed to amuse this eccentric deity.

“oh, honey… you’re the one that started this, remember?” vessel reminded, his tone velvety smooth with cockiness laced into his mannerisms. “i can sit here all day, and not do a single thing… just watching you drip your wetness all over my thigh,”

y/n was about to retort back, but they bit their tongue. as much as they wanted deny it, vessel was right; they did start this. but it wasn’t even intentional!

they just wanted to ask vessel a question. one. simple. question. but of course, the dark figure had to pull one of his wild cards, irritating y/n and prompting them to challenge vessel.

and that challenge? well, it was a battle of self control.

stripped completely of their pants, with nothing but their shirt on, vessel followed suit, and the two of them were just staring at each other, lust clearly clouding their eyes. sheet music was scattered all over the floor because of how haste vessel had gotten with putting y/n in this position, but he didn’t care.

especially when he got to tease them like this.

“look at you… so turned on just from sitting on my thigh,” the entity mocked with a provocative tease.

vessel’s voice was slickly sweet, a hint of mischief was in his tone. he was amused; amused at how easy it was to get y/n going. they were soaking wet all over his thigh, so much so that it was shimmering in the dimly lit room.

y/n could only roll their eyes at vessel’s words, their nails digging into his shoulders a little more. “you’re one to talk about being turned on, especially when your little friend over there seems to be having a bit of a problem.”

they nudged their knee in between vessel’s legs, brushing it against his clothed, hardened erection. he let out a rather loud groan from the contact, and vessel just chuckled lustfully.

“little? you wound me, dearie. it’s not little at all.” vessel spoke with a smug tone, a smirk evident on his face. “quite the opposite, actually.”

“shut up. we’re not gonna start talking about your dick.” y/n quickly shot down, blushing when they realized what vessel’s words entailed.

“awh look at that! you’re already blushing at the thought of me being too big and thick for you to handle.” he practically cackled out, relishing in the embarrassed emotions y/n was feeling.

they could only scoff and whip their head to look away from vessel. y/n didn’t have any sort of witty comment to get back at vessel.

they hated that he was so right too.

“now then… how about we get on track again, eh?” he spoke so smoothly, but his voice had so much arrogance to it. y/n gritted their teeth upon hearing this, but they just couldn’t be mad at him, not when they were being so intimate like this.

“you’re so goddamn annoying.”

“sure i am, but you love it. that’s why you’re so goddamn wet all over me.”

y/n really wanted to wipe that smirk off of vessel’s face, but they couldn’t bring themselves to. going back and forth with vessel has only gotten them more worked up, and they haven’t even done anything to relieve themself of this aching sensation that pooled in their stomach.

and vessel definitely took notice of this.

gripping their hips more tightly, vessel’s brazen and calloused fingers dug into the sides of y/n’s hips. he bounced his knee upwards teasingly to send jolts of pleasure up y/n’s body, making them whine out loud.

“fuck!” they moaned loudly, digging their nails into vessel’s shoulders.

“ahh… there we are, there’s the little slut talking.” he chided with a smirk, knowing the power he has over y/n.

it didn’t help that the friction only caused y/n to become even more wet. they could feel their leaking juices trickle down their inner thigh and onto vessel’s skin. and through it all, vessel still just emitted a cocky and sexy aura that made y/n just want to ruin their cunt all over his thigh.

it was so humiliating, but it turned them on so fucking much.

“i won’t repeat myself, darling.” vessel spoke with a taunting, almost threatening tone that was shrouded in promiscuous desire. “start grinding that pretty pussy on me, or i’ll make you move myself.”

his words were vulgar, but his words and the way he delivered them had so much power to them it drive y/n crazy.

y/n didn’t even think twice before they slowly started moving their hips in an up and down rhythm, keeping their pace slow. it felt like time had stopped for them specifically, just a little world where vessel and y/n could let their desires spill.

y/n rutted their puffy cunt all over vessel’s thigh, smearing his ashy skin with their juices. that feeling of doing all the work to get themselves off while vessel just sat there watching, it was enough to make y/n whimper from both frustration and arousal.

“g-god fucking dammit … mmmmh…” they managed to rasp out, and vessel groaned in response.

“that’s it… move your hips just like that..” vessel growled out, his nails digging crescent-shaped marks into y/n’s hips.

he guided their hips along his bare thigh, keeping his hands tight on y/n’s body as they were grinding up and down on his leg. the way they were moving just turned vessel on even more, the sight was so hot.

“ahh.. would ya look at that? you’re moving like a fucking pornstar.” vessel spat out, his voice still holding that lustrous tone that kept y/n whining and grinding on his leg.

“where’d you learn to do that, eh? you sleepin’ around with the other band members or what?” his voice was sharp, and a bit cruel. he just kept on speaking. “going around like the bitch in heat you are, getting other mens’ dicks wet for your dripping wet cunt? such a fucking slut… you’d do anything to get yourself off, won’t you?”

but those words just encouraged y/n to keep riding vessel’s thigh like no tomorrow, their movements speeding up slightly. they didn’t even bother to respond to vessel’s humiliating words.

vessel took notice of this immediately, and let out a lustful scoff, bouncing his leg up again to make y/n moan loudly. “mmmh.. not talking now, huh? that’s fine…”

he lifted them up slightly, and changed the angle to which y/n was riding his thigh, making it more pleasurable for their nether regions.

“just keep riding my thigh and prove to me what a little slut you are.”

and ride they did. y/n was moving their hips in such an erotic and frantic rhythm, it caused both parties to moan and groan from the feeling. that’s all they could think of; up, down. up down.

y/n hated how easily vessel got to them, how his words could turn them from a prissy, almost bratty little spitfire, to a mess of nothing but lust, desire and frustration.

but it always had them yearning for more. and damn did they love it.

as they continued to spread their juices all over vessel, their frantic movements were slowly pushing them closer to orgasm, that blissful climax they’ve been craving all this time.

“v-vessel… i’m so close..” y/n mewled out, and vessel was savoring that sound and feeling.

“oh.. you want to cum? does this whore want to cum all over me?” vessel questioned with that cruel, teasing voice.

he gripped their hips tightly and forced them down on his leg more, causing them to cry out in pleasure. “say it. say that you want it,”

“i-i want to cum! i want to cum all over your thigh! all over myself like the whore i am!” y/n practically screamed, getting desperate for a release.

vessel was satisfied to hear that; and so he guided their hips more across his leg to aid them to a climax. “that’s it… that’s the slut i love so much… now cum. cum all over the place.”

it seemed that his words were on command, because y/n’s hips spasmed wildly and their threw their head over vessel’s shoulder, crying out loudly in pleasure as they came all over his leg.

warm liquid trickled down their inner thighs and all over vessel’s leg, their essence coating his leg white. y/n breathed heavily to catch their breath, and vessel just chuckled and patted their head reassuringly.

“good little pet.” is all he said, a smile can be heard from his tone of voice.

after a bit of time of calming down, y/n caught their breath and attempted to get up from vessel’s leg, but his strong hands forced them to straddle his leg again, making them whine.

“vessel…?” y/n questioned with a slightly dazed tone, but the dark entity just chuckled.

“oh no… i’m not done with you yet, sweetie.” vessel whispered. he moved his hands to unbuckle the belt on the loops of his pants, sagging the clothing down. y/n looked down with wide eyes, watching vessel’s hardened cock spring free.

but he only chuckled knowingly. this was going to be a long night.

“i hope you’re ready for round two, baby, because it’s going to just get better from here.”

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[whereismywarden]

Dragon Age Worldstates Template

Hi there, everyone!

As we approach Veilguard's release date, I found myself in need of a place where I could keep track of all my different worldstates and the ever-growing number of OCs that come with them. So I created this little Google Sheets template, which you can find here!

For the most part, I based the list of choices on what's in the Keep and only kept the ones I judged were somewhat important. If you think I forgot to include something, don't hesitate to ask. (At any rate, I will update the template after playing Veilguard.)

You can pick multiple answers on the gender, pronouns, and sexuality lists. (Meaning your character can be an aroace trans lesbian who uses she/they pronouns if you so choose.)

For the ages, you only need to enter the age your characters are at the start of each of their respective games. The other columns will autofill.

Anyway, enjoy!

[callsign-rogueone]

intimacy alphabet - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x reader words: 1.9k (oops.) 🏷: NSFW. all of it. afab reader, but no pronouns or gendered nicknames used. mentions of penetrative sex, oral, soft d/s dynamics, the usual stuff. I plan to do one of these for each of our boys eventually, but feel free to send a message if you want a specific one prioritized! this is a sexy democracy, after all.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

sleepy cuddlebug. half the time he manages to get you guys out of bed and into the shower, then proper PJs and brushing teeth etc., but the other half, you’re just curling up in each other’s arms and knocking out then and there — you’ll shower in the morning. and he might suggest that you shower together… something about saving time and water… totally not just so he can see you naked again.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes his hair, the thick, fluffy curls and the way they contrast his skin nicely. and his arms. he may not be as jacked as his friends, but he’s got some nice strength and definition there that he worked quite hard for.

and don’t get me wrong, he loves every single part of you — but your chest. if you wear a low-cut or tight-fitting top, he’s gonna be staring. he just can’t help it. loves playing with your nipples, sucking on them and leaving hickies on your chest and collarbones. 

also loves resting his head over your heart while you cuddle and having you play with his hair, especially if you were in charge that night; it just feels so soft and safe and warm… he’s also the type of guy to like to fall asleep with a handful of boob, not even in a sexual way, just as a comfort thing. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

says he has no strong preference on where he does it — but really likes to cum on your chest. not afraid to get messy, but he’s a good guy, so he’ll be the one to clean it up and/or wash your sheets for you later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’s pretty open with you about what he wants and doesn’t really hide anything, especially now that you’re in a committed relationship. but before said relationship, he definitely didn’t think of you when jacking off in the shower, and most certainly did not gasp out your name when he finished. yeah, that was the tipping point for him, when he realized just precisely how bad he had it for you and decided to finally do something about it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

before you started dating, he had little to no experience. you figured things out together, and now he knows what he’s doing and what feels good, but it’s still fun for y’all to explore and find out new things about yourselves.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

loves you on top / riding him. that way he can see your pretty face and kiss you and hold your waist / hips, watch your chest bounce while you take him nice and deep… lots of perks to this position (for him, at least. but he’ll offer to take over if you get too tired.)

also fond of anything where you’re super close together, chest to chest or side by side — he wants to be as close to you as he can, always.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

always down for a giggle in the moment. he loves hearing you laugh. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he’s doing some maintenance on a regular basis. doesn’t have much body hair, other than the loveliest little trail from his navel down…

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

oh, he can be so soft and sweet and romantic… we’ve collectively accepted that Bo is a total sweetheart, and would be so gentle and respectful and loving with you, especially your first time (which is on my very long list of smut ideas lol) 

but yes. kisses everywhere, lots of murmured praise and affirmations, soft touches… that’s just the default for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

see letter D.

in the beginning of your relationship, he was handling matters himself more often because he didn’t want to scare you off by propositioning you all the time -- a slight breeze can get this guy going. but now that you’re comfortable with each other, he’s usually doing things with you instead.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

not quite a kink, but he really likes overstimulation. if he’s fucking you and he cums before you do, he’s not stopping. he’ll push through the sensitivity to get you there too. he likes overstimulating you, too (remember what I said about spending hours between your legs?) but sometimes it’s not even on purpose; he just gets lost in the sauce and doesn’t want to stop -- you have to pull him off of you by the hair. coincidentally, that’s also how you found out that he likes having his hair pulled.

he also loves when you take charge, focusing on yourself while you ride him / grind on his thigh / sit on his face… he wants to make you feel good, but he also finds it really hot when you take charge of your own pleasure.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

your room, his, the showers… he won’t try much else when you’re at the school or at Riorson house (too many people around). but if you ever get a house of your own, you’ll be christening every room. and probably every piece of furniture, too.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

all the standard stuff: seeing you undressed, seeing you dressed up or wearing anything revealing, you touching him a little too much (especially touching his chest or waist), when you use that soft, teasing tone of voice. and honestly, if you initiate things / say you want to, he’s ready to go --he’ll almost never decline that opportunity, and it’s a confidence boost to him: he wants to be wanted. 

also, you being possessive and protective of him — I have a scene written where Darling threatens someone at knife-point for hurting him and he’s just like 😍😍

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

does not want to do any sort of degradation or name-calling. again, he’s a sweetheart, and he wants you both to feel loved and respected 24/7, even when he’s railing you or you’re edging him or whatever. it’s just not his thing. nope. not happening.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he can and will spend hours with his head between your thighs. sometimes he’ll just ask you out of the blue if he can eat you out — you can keep reading or doing whatever you’re doing, he just wants to lick your pussy while you do it. though you never stay focused for long, not when it feels that good.

and he loves it when you go down on him. the boy just cannot shut the fuck up when your mouth is on him, babbling praise and swearing and making the prettiest little sounds. he would love it if you swallowed, but again, he’s happy to finish anywhere.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?

he can be slow and romantic when the time is right. he gets faster/rougher when he’s desperate, when he needs you so bad that he can’t hold it back anymore (often after you’ve been teasing him all day.) but it’s usually a good medium pace.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves them. this boy is ready to go at the snap of your fingers. he’s absolutely down to spend the spare half an hour you have between classes fucking you. however, comma, you always underestimate how long things will take and you’re definitely going to be late, so you might as well skip class entirely, right?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

you’ve done a fair amount of experimenting thus far in your relationship, and are content with your usual routine now. anything new is always prefaced with a conversation about it / asking if it’s okay before you do it in the moment. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go a good two, maybe three before he’s tapping out, but preparing for war is exhausting, so you usually aren’t going much farther than that anyway. and of course, he’s giving you loving check-ins and water breaks etc. between rounds, especially if things are getting rough.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I can’t decide if he’d like to handcuff you / tie your wrists or not. that way he could really take his time with you and make you sit still while he plays with that pretty body of yours that he loves so much, but then you can’t touch him, and he really likes you touching him… hm.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

proper foreplay is definitely happening nine times out of ten (the tenth being a very quick quickie), but he doesn’t like to draw things out too long, because that means he has to wait as well, and he’s too impatient for that. you’re direct with each other about what you want in the moment.

however, it’s very fun to tease him all day and get him riled up because he’s just so fucking cute when he’s needy, and he’s not afraid to beg, either. but if you take the teasing too far, there may be consequences…

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not necessarily loud, but definitely vocal. he’s not afraid to moan and whimper and whine, especially when you’re in charge for the night. but even when he’s the one doing the work, he’s still panting and giving you praise, etc. very nice to listen to. also not afraid to make noise when he’s going down on you, humming and moaning at the taste. a bit of a messy eater, too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he loves it when you mark him up -- hickies, scratches from your nails… this ties into that love of you being possessive of him. he doesn’t even try to cover it up, wearing them proudly as a sign to any onlookers that he’s taken, thank you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s pretty lean, some nicely defined muscle, and there’s a very nice contrast between his skin and the green of his rider’s relic, which takes up half of his back. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

quite high, as mentioned earlier. he’s really into you, and incredibly easy to get in the mood. you’re having some kind of sex 3-ish times a week, or however many times you want -- he’s adaptable, and will always respect you / won’t push things if you say no.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

pretty quickly, since you are almost always cuddling after (unless you have somewhere very important to be) and he falls asleep super fast if you’re holding him and playing with his hair -- that’s a guaranteed way to get him knocked tf out.

[vergilscatgirl]

── .✦ The Taste Of You ♡

𖥻 Pairings ; Vergil/Fem Reader, Vergil/You.

𖥻 Content Warnings ; Explicit sexual content (18+), reader is fem-bodied (no gendered pronouns are used), porn written without plot, fingering, oral (fem receiving), no penetration, insanely self indulgent.

𖥻 A/N ; This is very self indulgent, I have had this on my mind all fucking week help me.

To say he was wholly consumed by the taste of you would be an understatement—for he found himself tormenting the tender skin of your thighs, left hand encasing you further into his grasp to allow his fingers to enter deeper into you, completely lost and devoid of proper thought. His movements are precise, deliberate—tongue fixed in circular motions on your clit, fingers pressing into that spot that has you seeing stars. A groan escapes from within his throat as your juices coat his fingers, seeping out to drip along his hand, dampening the sheets below. You whimper and moan, hands clasping against sweat coated hair, pulling yet another strained, somewhat inaudible noise from him, the vibrations treading along your skin. 

“V-Vergil,” his name hangs within the air, falling upon deaf ears as he continues his actions, “f.. fuck, right there.” You weep out in feeble, near inaudible mumbles. The appeased hum resonates—meeting your cunt in fierce, tenacious reverberations, seizing another whine from your throat.

His fingers continue to prod at the spot, noting each reaction—the flush of your face, eyes closed, your fingers grasping within his hair for leverage, body glistened with sweat, hips bucking to meet each thrust of his fingers. Each whine and moan drove him further, motivated him to urge his movements to a brisker rate.

For a man who strived himself on such a poised demeanor, maintaining himself in this moment was proving to be a strenuous task. Holding you as if you were of a finer creation, lapping at you eagerly with such yearning. It truly tested his discipline, for with others he was frigid, disdainful—but with you, he was tender, attentive—he was human. 

“Vergil,” you whimper his name, returning him from within his mind. His motions did not falter, instead continued even quicker, drawing out every moan, intent on hearing your noises increase in volume, pussy clenching around his digits. “Fuck, oh god, I’m close.”

The growl that admits from within his throat is sharp, labored and needing. He endures the ache of his cock straining against his pants, as this moment was not for him, but for you. Crimsoned face, mouth agape, half-lidded gaze resting on his own mellow stare. His free hand traces your body in prolonged drags along the skin, caressing your thigh, trailing up to your hip, before his grasp reaches for your hand, embracing it within a senere hold. 

His eyes encapture yours, fingers continuing to drill into you, tongue meeting with your clit in keen interest. The slickness coats his lips in a satisfying manner, each gush of your essence sends a rush of exhilaration throughout him. God, you sounded so pretty. How he adored you and the noises you made, like a song gracing his ears.

“I’m-..” Your sentence is cut off, the clamping around his fingers spoke for you, ripples string throughout your body, the coil from within you snapping in one harsh motion—the juices coating his fingers and lips, the grip on his hair tightening, time slowing as your body dissolves into the pleasure of your orgasm. Chest heaving, you whine as his fingers pull out of you. 

His eyes peer into yours, lips tugging into—what could be considered—a half smile, satisfaction clear on his features. Prepared, as he always is, he reaches to a towel on the bedside table, cleaning his face up first, then attending to you next. After he is finished, he lays down beside you, holding you close to him. 

“I love you.” The words are gentle, loving—it holds meaning.

“I love you too, Vergil.”

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

friday, kim taerae— select choir

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.7k

⋆˙⟡ reader: just one gn!reader version for this (no pronouns are used at all to describe reader; reader is describe as having a "pretty" mouth but no gendered or femme language)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ friday summary: it's the end of the most bizarre week of your life. last year, you would've been overjoyed to spend time in select choir with your friend kim taerae. but that all went down the drain after hanbin recruited him into his group of incessant jerks... and he's desperate to officially be one of the guys.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. the lore for taerae is so SAD. i'll make sure his ending is happy, i promise. also we've got a ft. hanbin chapter but just in digital form.

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★★ (5.0)

(idk the bully scale is subjective but like imagine your best friend saying this shit about you WHY IS HE DOING THAT OMG jk i know why and soon you will too)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: oral, (taerae receiving), throat fucking (reader receiving), brief handjob and heavy petting (taerae receiving), cumming without warning in mouth, filming of sexual act, voyeur!hanbin, slight dubcon but like for both of them kind of idk you'll see but it's slight, bullying, the usual.

friday.

you should be elated that this week is nearly over. and you are. mostly, anyway. 

but there was an indescribable thrill to all this that you couldn’t seem to shake. all that talk of ravens yesterday had got you thinking...

 why did you dislike ravens in the first place?

thinking. crying. haphazardly finishing all of your assignments due friday that you’d procrastinated the whole week. urgent texts to and from mina after her ✨jiwoong oppa✨ stood her up for their date.

one thing was for certain: you desperately need sleep.

that’s why you’re currently falling asleep sitting up, hard-back music folder open in your hands as professor yoo works with the bass section. the lowest notes of “requiem” are soft and soothing and, for you at this sleep-deprived moment, very dangerous. 

luckily a sharp elbow to the shoulder jolts the drowsiness right out of you.

you look to your left to find kim taerae giving you one of the most judgmental glares you’ve ever earned in your life.

you would expect nothing less from him.

at one time a judgmental glare from taerae was the equivalent of a hug. you returned the gesture happily. and also threw in some hugs whenever he’d let you. he squirmed a bit, but the big smile that would grow on his face made it all worth it.

but there’s no warmth behind his eyes now. just a sharp elbow pointed at you, threatening to strike again if you didn’t shape up quick enough.

“you’re gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns with a frown.

you roll your eyes. “why do you care?”

“because, unfortunately, some people still think we’re friends,” he says, making thin lines with his pencil on a page of his sheet music. “and i don’t want to suffer the social consequences of your embarrassing actions.”

“mm,” you agree wordlessly. “guess i should’ve thought of that myself.”

he doesn’t respond for a few moments, eyes focused on his sheet music until an audible sigh comes from his direction. “why are you so tired anyway? s’not like you.”

“for all you know, it could be,” you retort with a huff. “maybe i’m a real night owl now. maybe i’m out partying or smoking or... something.”

taerae snorts. “jiwoong hyung was not lying about those tragic acting skills.”

“oh, fuck off,” you reply.

his eyes widen. and then promptly squint with suspicion. “since when did you swear like that?”

you frown, trying to discern what he could mean. hadn’t you always been this uninhibited with your tongue? 

the answer was no. you hadn’t. and this new speech pattern of yours had a very specific origin: monday afternoon. you exhale a chuckle. maybe you had yet to realize the full extent of how this week has changed you.

and how your desire to change back continues to dwindle.

you just shrug, returning your focus to your music. you feel taerae’s eyes on you as you track your vocal section’s part in “requiem”.

you and taerae had purposefully chosen seats next to each other in choir last year so that you could goof off together during every possible free moment. it was also convenient for your parents, who always wanted to get pictures of you two together during concerts ever since high school.

now you wish you went to different universities altogether.

ironically, you might’ve had a better chance of remaining friends if you’d had distance. but you and taerae disagreed quite adamantly at the time.

halfway through your two-hour rehearsal, you’re allowed a fifteen minute break to grab water and stretch your legs. you always wander off down the empty storage hallway, where your favorite vending machine is hidden in plain sight— the one with the oreos and cheez-its and bugles in it. 

pulling out your debit card, you insert the chip into the machine and punch in the number for the snack of your choosing. you watch happily as it falls down from it’s spiral prison into the dispenser below. you start to bend down when a hand reaches in before you and grabs your snack.

“hey, what the—…” you trail off as you come face to face with a cavernous dimple. “give it back. now.”

“you’re so touchy today,” taerae condemns with a click of his tongue. he holds your snack high above his head, dangling it in a challenge. “seriously, what’s gotten into you this week?”

“oh, you know exactly what,” you huff, reaching for the snack in vain.

taerae laughs. “i guess a better question would be: what hasn’t gotten into you this week?”

“you’re so fucking funny,” you snap, fingers finally closing around the wrapper as you yank it down. 

taerae’s brow is raised in surprise, not really caring about the repossession of the snack. “seriously, i’m not used to you swearing like that. i’m not sure if i like it.”

“i assumed there was nothing you liked about me anymore,” you retort, tearing open your snack and shoveling the processed glory down your throat.

“that’s not true,” he replies, hand suddenly reaching to your face. he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, a crumb transferring from you to him. he brings his thumb to his own lips and tastes it. “i still like your pretty mouth.”

when you finally manage to pick your jaw up off the ground, you shake your head. “i know you don’t think of me like that.”

“uh...” taerae mumbles awkwardly, glancing at the row of shelves behind you. “sure, i do.”

“oh yeah? how about mina’s pool party two years ago? when we—.”

“OH, actually you—,” he interjects urgently, glaring at you to shut up. normally you would. but after this week, you no longer feel bound to quiet compliance. “you don’t need to—.”

“—were playing spin the bottle and it landed on me and you threw up in the pool because you were so disgusted by the mere thought of kissing me—”

his lips crash onto yours, hand cupping your cheek. it’s a demanding, yet tentative kiss and you’re even more confused when it ends.

you take a step backward, folding your arms across your chest. 

“can you just—...” taerae grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him, glancing again at the row of shelves behind you. “yes, that’s perfect.”

“what’s perfect?” you ask with a frown, starting to grow immune to strange behavior after the week you’ve had.

“oh, um.... you,” taerae answers after a moment with a smirk. “you were always so perfect, (y/n). perfect grades. perfect manners. perfect body. i used to jump at the chance to sleep over when your mom would let me. you used to beg her until she finally said yes, because she knew you'd never misbehave. remember, honey?"

eyes wide at the dark shift in his tone, you nod slowly.

“you were so innocent... you slept shirtless, for fuck's sake. peacefully dreaming, while i pretended to be asleep on the floor,” he continues, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “hoping i wouldn't wake you up if i just lifted the covers to get a peek."

when you thought the worst of your pain this week was over…

“tae,” you breathe, eyes watering— pleading for this not to be true. it couldn’t be. at least... not in the vulgar way he was describing it. "you don't mean that."

at the sound of your despair, there's a momentary flash in his eyes. regret. you still know him like the back of your hand.

“why are you doing this?” you ask, hands flying to cup either side of his face. he flinches, trying his best not to look you in the eye again. trying not to let you see. “you don’t have to be my friend anymore if you really don’t want to. but i don’t know why you want to be like them when you’re miles better than they’ll ever—.”

“alright, that’s enough.”

the muffled, tinny voice comes out of nowhere. you look around your immediate surroundings, trying to discern where it came from.

“c’mon, you were doing so well,” the voice rings again. “you said you had this under control, bud. was i wrong to put my trust in you?”

“no, hyung,” taerae answers, shaking his head. “i—… i can do it.”

“hanbinnie?” you ask and then cough awkwardly to cover up the fact you just called your arch nemesis so affectionately. yesterday must’ve gotten to you more than you know. “i mean, hanbin-ah! what the actual hell is going on?”

“no need to worry about it, sweetheart,” hanbin’s voice dismisses again. taerae’s eyes dart towards the shelves behind you once more. you follow his gaze— jaw dropping when you see two camera lenses staring back at you. 

“what—...” you fumble, shaking your head in disbelief as you look at the back of taerae’s phone— propped up with a black music folder. “you’re recording this!?”

“afraid so,” hanbin answers for taerae. “i didn’t really think he could follow through without some supervision. don’t mind me though. unless you just can’t help yourself...”

while at the beginning of this week a situation as perverted and bizarre as this would’ve had your whole nervous system shutting down, you’re still standing tall. present in this strange moment. you smirk.

“aw, tae,” you coo mockingly, turning to your former friend. “how sentimental of you...”

a brow arches in confusion back at you. “what are you––?”

“of course you’d wanna capture such a special moment on camera,” you continue with a patronizing nod. “it’s not every day that you lose your virginity.”

“HEY THAT’S—…” taerae starts to yell at you for sharing this embarrassing personal detail that you’re sure he never disclosed to hanbin. “that’s… that’s not true.”

“oh come on, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you twist the metaphorical knife as hanbin stifles a laugh. “i’d be happy to help you out with that, since i was the one who had to listen to you whine for four years about how you were still. a. fucking—”

two fingers are down your throat in an instant. you gag, trying to step backwards, but taerae’s hand finds the back of your head— holding you in place. he removes his fingers slowly, pupils dilating when you whimper in fear.

“i’ve decided i don’t like the swearing,” he says, a sickening hint of sweetness in his tone. any upperhand you had is now gone as he traces your lips with his thumb. “such a pretty mouth. those filthy words shouldn’t be coming out of it.”

“y-you don’t get to decide that,” you stammer unconvincingly.

“so that’s what you really want, then?” he asks, sticking his thumb further into your mouth. you suck obediently. “you wanna have a filthy mouth?”

you nod, his thumb still pressed against your tongue— cheeks hollowed out as taerae bites his lip hungrily.

“then you can have it,” he says before removing his thumb from your mouth and pressing down on your neck and shoulder— forcing you to your knees in front of him. you guess joining the soccer team had really improved his strength. “just remember it’s what you said you wanted.”

taerae unbuttons his jeans, pulling the zipper down. he freezes, clearly unsure of what to do next. maybe this is your opportunity to wiggle your way out of this. if only your curiosity wasn’t equally as strong.

“we––... i have to audition after this,” you protest weakly. “when break’s over, i have to audition for the solo i’ve been prepping for so i want to keep my voice warm right now and—.”

“ah, that’s right. i did forget about that,” he affirms, looking up at the ceiling in thought before smirking back down at you. “but i think i can help keep it pretty warm, actually.”

your attempt to level with taerae only seems to encourage him as he pulls down his jeans and boxer-briefs. you inhale sharply as his hard cock comes to eye-level, so close you can really examine it. though it’s slightly smaller than hanbin’s, it’s thicker and you need to know immediately how it feels in your hand.

“whoah, you—,” taerae stumbles, eyes wide as you take him eagerly in your hand. he stares at you, lips parted as you start to pump him. “holy shit.”

“you’re sure you wanna do this?” you ask, pausing your motion to make eye contact with him. you can tell he doesn’t want you to stop, but there’s conflict lingering there that he just can’t seem to hide.

taerae clears his throat, shaking his head as he resumes his tough guy act. eyes cold once more, he shrugs. “a hole’s a hole.”

after a year of judgmental berating from your former best friend, it was almost comforting to know that he was capable of being even meaner than he already was. it meant that, for whatever reason, he usually didn’t want to be any meaner to you.

he takes both of your hands in one of his, keeping you from using them as his other hand finds the back of your neck again— guiding your face towards his cock. taerae doesn’t need to give much guidance though. you’re aching to get a taste and the way your lips sink down around him nearly knocks the wind out of him.

back pressed against the side of the vending machine, his thumb presses into your cheek— feeling himself inside of your pretty mouth. you swirl your tongue around his tip, causing him to moan softly.

there’s a little bit of rustling coming from where taerae’s phone is propped up on the shelf. you wonder if hanbin’s enjoying this. if he’s touching himself— wishing he was throat deep in you instead.

“c’mon, bud. is (y/n) running this show or are you?” hanbin asks, tone laden with frustration.

“i—... i am,” taerae asserts, grip tightening across the back of your neck. 

he starts to thrust gently into your mouth, an action that you’re not so familiar with. it rattles you a bit— loss of control after feeling like you were gaining it back.

“this is what you asked for, baby,” he reminds you, shallow thrusts starting to venture a bit deeper. “remember? you said you wanted a filthy mouth. so i’m gonna make a mess of it.”

you find the right rhythm to breathe through the thrusts. the tip of his cock is dangerously close to entering your throat, sending another wave of anxiety through you. but it’s not for long. 

your eyes meet taerae’s and, though he’s the one putting you in that danger, you suddenly feel very safe. you let out a sigh, the vibration causing him to mewl. he scratches at your neck affectionately, putting pressure against it to feel himself inside you as he fucks your throat.

“see, keeping that throat nice and warm,” taerae coos as his breathing gets heavier— and his moaning gets louder. “take me so well, i—.”

“shut the fuck up, dude,” hanbin scolds, his own breath growing labored. “do you wanna get caught before you can win the—?”

before hanbin can finish his thought, you feel a warm, sticky liquid begin to pour down your throat. you pull off of taerae, sputtering and coughing as you try to swallow it down. wiping your mouth, you look up at taerae who is looking at you like he wants to dive straight into the han river and never return.

“for fucks sake, are you actually a virgin or something?” hanbin asks angrily. “is that really all you can last for? and, jesus, you’ve gotta warn someone before you do that.”

your throat is starting to burn and you’d love to be able to say something, anything, but the rasp that comes out isn’t pleasant-feeling. you rub at your throat with your now-free hands as taerae’s expression just turns more horrified.

“did i... did i hurt you? fuck, i didn’t mean to—,” taerae starts to babble uselessly until hanbin claps loudly.

“good work, team!” he says as he finishes his round of applause. “mvp definitely goes to me, for coming up with this idea in the first place. i’ll see the campus activities secretary at the big game tomorrow, right?”

“mm,” is all you can croak out. you wish it sounded angrier.

“and i’ll see you at practice tonight, man. i—,” hanbin cuts himself off with a confused look. “wait, where did he go?”

you face forward, expecting to see taerae standing next to the vending machine but... hanbin’s right. he’s vanished.

“that kid’s a piece of work,” hanbin says, shaking his head. “you think he’d be more grateful after i took him under my wing and made him popular. i even got him a spot on the soccer team after a lot of private coaching. i mean, he’s benched for life, but still!”

you’re a saint among men, is what you wish you could say. instead, you just roll your eyes.

“just take his phone and give it back to him in class, will you?” hanbin asks as you stand up and make your way toward the shelves. “and drink some hot tea for that throat, okay? throw some honey in it and you’ll be good as new for tomorrow, i promise.”

you sigh. and you nod. and you pick up taerae’s phone and end the video call. 

and you go back to choir and sit in your black music chair and wait for taerae to come back, but he doesn’t. and when it’s time to audition for the solo you’ve been preparing for, you stay seated and quiet. 

seated and quiet.

like you’ve been for so long.

and when practice ends and the choir room is empty and you remain seated and quiet in your black music chair and tears begin to well up in your eyes, you don’t cry.

you smile.

you stand up.

you shout (briefly, so as not to disturb anyone in neighboring classrooms).

at some point or another, you forgot how to do these things. or you were made to feel like you couldn’t or shouldn’t. 

but that’s who you really are.

who you were always meant to be.

not a juliet. not a violin. not a goalie. not a bird. not a pretty mouth.

you.

you pick up your bag off the floor (and taerae’s) and throw them both over your shoulder, making a beeline toward the door.

absolutely, hanbinnie, you think. you’ll see me at the big game.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for not making any of my characters, that I have to crank out daily, pansexual/polysexual/omnisexual specifically and only making them bi?

🏳️‍🌈👶🏼 so i can recognize this later lmao also I'm not panphobic or anything, this isn't about the validity of the label, pan is fine.

So i (20snb bi) have a project I'm working on where I take all the characters from a specifc media I'm into and pair them up with each other to make every possible ship kid from every possible ship(excluding characters who are kids themselves or are related or something, that shit is gross). Basically taking every character and pairing them up with another and creating a kid I think they'd have. Its a big project with lots of characters and I'm easily over 400 at this point. I really enjoy this, even if I'm not even 25% complete.

However I set a schedule for myself that at least one ship kid needs to come out each day which, considering I draw them, color them and give them some development and some even have siblings, (The refs themselves easily take me an hour to an hour and a half) I have to make lots of them quickly to keep up with my daily grind. I've been doing this project for over a year and although it's stressful, I can get them out quickly with breaks for myself.

Their character sheets all have some pretty basic info like their name, gender, pronouns, personality and more but it also includes their sexuality/orientation. I have a pretty basic list of options for what their sexuality will be: straight, lesbian, gay, Enbian, bi, Aro, ace and aroace with a few random things like polyam, WLW and a good amount of the something-loving-something/juvelic terms. I did this because, well, there's not many entirely unique orientations outside of them and although I love mogai/xenogenders and complex identities, I dont want to potentially drag up discourse or bring problems to my budding art blog over it. Its just not worth it to me to turn something I really care about on its head, even if I like microlabels.

In this case, I'm using bi as an umbrella term as most of the other terms share the same definition with slight variations in wording or action but not much difference in practice. We all like everyone, it's basic stuff. However, apparently this is a problem.

I've gotten one or two anons asking me questions about my guides asking some kind stuff like is this lesbian ship kid a butch or femme or Is this picture of them now or just at the age you put on the ref and other harmless stuff. Then things got rude with some Nbphobia but thrice now I've gotten asks:

1. Asking snarkily if im a panphobe

2. insulting me for not specifically writing pan or Omni and just writing bi.

3. Saying that I "clearly dont care about pansexual representation." Then brought up how my primary oc is native american so i clearly care about representation but that oc used to be a sona and I'm native?? Its confusing. (And Lowkey racist shit to just assume any native character is a "diversity quota" character instead of just a person existing but I digress-)

Im not pan, im bi so ig these people assume I'm not cool with pan people which isnt true? I have nothing aginest them, they are just pretty similar and I dont feel like it matters if they are specfically bi or pan or poly or any other label. I don't go into details like that for any other sub-group, not even pronouns and I included combinations and some common Neopronouns. I understand the importance of representation but my project has less than 50 people looking at it every day, Im not netflix or something. I'm one guy on the most LGBT blogging site with a big project and very little audience, I'm not showing people who wouldn't already know what pan is that pansexuality exists.

This project isn't that deep considering the characters in question aren't human/dont have human characteristics.(no it's not hazbin/helluva) Also ive never spoken about lgbt discourse or stated anything remotely close to it beyond the guides just passively having characters who are an LGBT identity. I've not even mentioned all the potentional orientations they could have so I'm not sure where/why this came up in the first place. The most politcial things ive said are calling out a creator in my fandom who outed themselves as a transphobe and mentioning im pro-palestine. That's it.

I mean this is pretty low stakes, I can just block these people and be done with it and this some seriously online shit but I just wanna check.

Am I being an asshole for just writing bi instead of specifying their mspec label because I have to produce characters quickly and I don't see enough of a difference to warrant a change/specification that would ultimately slow and clog an already stressful and complex project?

I dont think I am but idk lol

What are these acronyms?

[iamnowhere-if]

I am Now Here // To Nowhere

I am Now Here // To Nowhere is an in-development Sugarcube Twine Interactive Fiction written for the Smoochie Jam 2024.

You are a cowboy in the post-apocalypse, tasked with the important job to deliver the mail across the ice-sheets and endless polar desert of a frozen earth. Following the shortwave radio signals of forgotten towns, and the occasional helpful traveler, you and your partner navigate this wasteland for a hope of humanity at dawn.

Features + Semi-Customizable Player Character; appearance, pronouns, gender, sexuality. Play as a middle-aged person navigating a world you no longer recognise. + A singular, established romantic relationship with your pardner. + A focus on building platonic and professional relationships with others; finding that balance between work and self in a world that no longer has the luxury to separate each. + Name your horse.

Characters

Intros

Davi | Your partner in life and in the wasteland amab . they/he 47 . 5'8" | 173cm

Cinta | A familiar scavenger afab . she/her 52 . 5'9" | 178cm

[mutant-munchies]

Finished Leo's new reference sheet

More info under cut⬇️⬇️

Name: Leonardo

Nicknames: Leo, Lee, Lea, Mom by Mikey sometimes

Age: 16-18??

Pronouns: She/Zeir

Gender + sexuality: transfem and abrosexual

Species: Alligator snapping turtle

Style of choice: Mall goth

Favorite pizza: Hawaiian style(pineapple on pizza enthusiast)

Likes: Anime(Loves Magical girl shows), Mitski, training, cooking

Leo a bit on the awkward side. She took on the mother and leader role for her siblings at a young age, whether she wanted to or not. Because of this she can be a bit of a "smother" and babies her siblings

Zeir good at cooking and sewing aswell

[snek-of-eden]

TOS BONES HEADCANONS

He’s mildly allergic to bees. Not enough to be dangerous, but enough that he keeps a hypo spray for it in his pocket any time he’s on shore leave on earth. Jim finds this supremely annoying, since he himself will swell up into a big puddle of allergic reaction when he comes within twenty feet of a bee

He used to do drag in his twenties as an escape from the pressures of Academy studies. His drag name was Miss Mal Practice and he would wear so much glitter that both he and Jim would find it in their sheets for weeks. When he graduated he gave it up, but near the end of the first 5 year mission, Uhura and Spock team up to try and get him to teach them a few things. After that, Enterprise Drag Nights become a monthly phenomenon.

Both he and Scotty are asexual, though to different levels. Bones is super sex neutral and indifferent, he’s experimented his fair share but sexual attraction has never exactly made sense to him from personal experience.

He was an incredibly lonely child, whose family was always busy and had barely any time for him. He has three older siblings who’d gone off to college by the time he was around eight, and he spent a whole lot of time hanging out in the dry barns with the calico cats on their property, doing homework or lighting shit on fire for fun.

When he dies, he wants to be cremated. This is in part because he has a strange connection to fire, and in part because he’s absolutely terrified of tightly enclosed spaces. To be buried in a coffin? His worst nightmare.

Generally he’s pretty ambivalent towards sugary things, but any Italian dessert is his Achilles heel. He coerced Scotty into tinkering with one of the replicators until it got the recipes for crostoli, tiramisu, cannoli, amaretti and panatone just right, and they have weekly dinner dates with plenty of alcohol.

Bones is FTM and uses he/him and they/them pronouns. He knew he was a guy from really early on and started taking HRT around age eleven. He never needed top surgery, but got bottom surgery around age twenty-five. He’s the most trans cis man you can imagine, and while he doesn’t flaunt that part of him, he’s more than happy to discuss it to those who are genuinely curious for a juxtaposition to their own gender journey.

He has that innate urge to fight in him, not just verbally but physically. It caused him to get into a lot of trouble in school, before he got his act together and reigned in that part of him (later, he learned he’d started masking a lot). Jim’s friendship is incredibly beneficial to him because they’re both touchy people with a lot of pent up energy. Many a night on the Enterprise is spent getting into heated conversations on Jim’s bed and ending up tussling on the floor. Sometimes Spock watches, but it’s rare that he joins in. The play fights are a tension reliever, and help a lot with anger management.

There’s definitely been a couple times he’s gotten his nose broken, most of them courtesy of his own brash stupidity.

He gets a lot of intrusive thoughts.

He’s a firm advocate that pineapple on pizza is satan’s invention and anyone who enjoys it can fuck right off. Jim loves pineapple on pizza: both Bones and Spock have nearly disowned him for this at least twice.

On shore leave, he wears the most garish Hawaiian print shirts in every colour of the rainbow, and flaunts them with all the pride of a world-renown catwalk model.

He and Scotty are in a devoted queerplatonic relationship. He’s really touch starved and Scotty loves touching people, so a lot of the time they end up cuddling or doing each others hair.

His favourite drink is brandy, but he won’t say no to a glass of iced lemon tea. Don’t tell anybody though, he has a reputation to uphold, for fuck’s sake.

He always ends up sobbing when he listens to opera, because it reminds him of Jocelyn and those memories are painful.

He’s always had food issues, from when he was a teenager. They’re a lot better these days, but when things get stressful he finds it hard to maintain good eating habits. It’s always made him feel bad, because he knows Jim goes through the same thing - but Jim actually has a reason: he was on Tarsus IV. It takes him a long time to open up about it, however.

Surprise parties are on his Top Ten Things I Hate Most list

Yes, he actually keeps a Top Ten Things I Hate list on his PADD, and some of its highlights include: ‘Jim’s infuriating lovey-dovey glances at Spock’, ‘styrofoam’, ‘almost getting killed’, and ‘Spock in general’.

His favourite flavour of ice cream is blueberry

[honibumii]

Yes people AGAIN ive made ANOTHER ONE !!!!

I may use this fella and participate again on the music weeks fan event ngl

Twisted Wonderland new OC Information Sheet below !!

{Made By: Hi_Innit on Tumblr}

First Name: Heera

Last Name: ??

Nicknames:

> Monsieur astuce (Rook)

Age: 16

> Catfish (Floyd)

> Kitty (Leona)

Pronouns: He/she

Birthday: 24/12

Zodiac: Capricorn

Hometown:

> Sunset Savanna (birthplace)

> The Shaftlands

Dorm: Savanaclaw

Class: 1-B

Year: Freshman

Gender: Non binary Demigender

Sexuality: Pansexual

Species: Beastman

Physical Traits

Height: 1'66cm

Hair Color: dark greyish blue/almost black

Hair Texture: straight

Eye Color: yellow

Eye Shape: sharp/tired

Weight: 56kg

Markings: freckles, scars

Mental Bio

Personality Type: ISTJ

Pet Peeves: Nosy people

Likes: Trees, gardens, the sound and smell of the rain

Dislikes: Cucumbers, getting wet by the rain

Habits: Playing with her tail, going around barefoot when comfortable

Good Personality Traits: Empathic, hardworking, loyal

Bad Personality Traits: Pessimistic, non participative

School

Favorite Subject: Biology

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Least Favorite Subject: Swimming

Worst Subject: Alchemy

Favorite Teacher: Trein

Least Favorite Teacher: Vargas

Clubs: Mountain lovers Club

How skilled at magic are they (1-10): 6-7

Unique Magic: "Rhythm of your heart"

> When concentrated in a specific individual, he can hear their heart and surroundings for a very brief moment, no matter how far they might be

More Information

Favorite Color: Greyish blue

Favorite Season: Winter

Favorite Animal: Guinea pigs

Magic Type: Void

Favorite Food: Tuna

Preferred Lunch: Plain rice with tuna

Theme Song!

Now Playing: Are You Satisfied? - Marina

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

VOLUME: ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

[hollowknightinsanity]

Ghost ref sheet jumpscare (repost bc tumblr was being mean)

Hopefully reposting This Thang with the ref tag will actually make it appear in said ref tag huegh

originally posted 24th June 2024

Yey ghost!!!!!! The Spooky!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m never drawing it again /j

Info under the cut 💥

Full name: Mystery Evergold

Aliases: Ghost, The Knight, Shade Lord

Species: Wyrm / Rootkin hybrid (Wyrmroot)

Planet of Origination: Earth

Age: 81

Height: Can be anywhere from 9’3” to 400’ tall; usually sticks at around 20’

Gender: Biologically intersex; identifies as genderless

Pronouns: It/Its/Itself

Sexuality: Aromantic, asexual

S/O: None

Family: Chysanthus Heather Eburne (biological father), Viol Glory Leaflet (biological mother), Eternity ‘Ette’ Evergold (adoptive mother), Holly Bloom Eburne-Leaflet (twin sibling), Promise Evergold (sister), Deliverance Evergold (sister), Hornet Arac Eburne (half-sister), Albus Iris Eburne-Leaflet (brother), Ivory Zinnia Eburne-Leaflet (sister), Sombre Vigus-Eburne (nibbling), Seraphim Vigus-Eburne (nibbling), Gaia Vigus-Eburne (nibbling), ~5 million other siblings (genuinely I WISH I was joking)

Biological child of Hallownest’s Royals, otherwise known as The Pale King and The White Lady. Was abandoned and left to rot in the Abyss where it was born, though it escaped with a few of its siblings and left the Kingdom altogether.

Was adopted by Eternity (Ette for short) with two of its siblings, who she named Promise and Deliverance, giving it the name Mystery. Lived as a nomad with her and its sisters until Holly’s shell broke, at which point it left to return to Hallownest and take care of The Radiance.

With the assistance of The Godseeker, it ascended to Godhood and broke its own shell, becoming what is now the Monarch of Hallownest, and (essentially) a God of Darkness.

Very quiet and generally inexpressive. It rarely ever engages in conversation for longer than a minute, and even then it doesn’t really say much. For the most part, it’s a shut-in down in the Abyss, only ever coming up to Dirtmouth to visit its surface-dweller siblings. Despite its overall intimidating appearance and stand-offish attitude, it’s relatively kind (so long as it likes you, which isn’t the most common thing in the world).

Was born in the depths of Hallownest, but has lived most of its life outside the Kingdom, travelling with its nomadic sisters and adoptive mother. However, after sensing its twin’s call for help from its home kingdom, it left its family and returned to free Hallownest of The Radiance’s infection. It’s lived there ever since it killed Her, and prefers to stay at the bottom of the Abyss where it was born, its trips outside only being to hunt for its small cousin (which it had been placed in charge of caring for), and the far rarer visits to the surface being to check on its siblings (it’s somewhat concerned over Holly’s health, given they’ve recently had two more children).

It’s grown to enjoy hunting with its fangs and claws, but will summon Nails made of Void and use Spells when it feels like it.

Hex codes

#000000 — Void tendrils / Blood / Spells

#121212 — Skin / Fur / Wings (back)

#1B1B1B — Inner ears

#FFFFFF — Eyes / King’s Brand / Wing patterns

(L + only 4 colours)

[olibird]

Character sheet- OCs

So because of the google doc, it would probably work better if there’s a general outline. So the information is easier to asses.

So! What type of info would you want to see added? Yes I did take lots of the items from others because yeahhh, so please suggest what else I should add or what I should change :)

Name:

Aliases:

Nationality:           Ethnicity:

Age:                DoB: 

Pronouns:     Gender:             Sex:

Sexuality:

Height:

Languages:

Which CoD Universe:

Branches of Service:

Affiliation: 

Specialties:

Personality: 

Backstory: 

Issues: 

Habits: 

Scars:

Preferred method of showing care/affection/love language:

Preferred way of receiving care/affection:

Eye Color:

Hair description: 

Clothing description:

Body description:

Favorite Activities: 

Blood Type:

Favorite color:

Favorite animal:

Favorite food/Dessert:

Other Fun Facts:

[breigrace]

Noise Lux

✨😈💜 reference sheet.

Character created by & art by - @breigrace

Story⇓ ⇓ ⇓

Beyond the Stars 💫

Writer - BreiGrace, Co-Writer - ABDillustrates

————————

Info:

Age - 27

Pronouns - He/They

Gender - Male (FTM. Trans)

Sexuality - Bisexual (Type - Masculine)

Race - Asmodeus Tiefling

Class - Warlock

Patron - Ouroboros

_______________

Notes:

This reference is subject to change as I am working on a full sheet with side and back references as well as an expression sheet.

[thus-spoke-lo]

Pain Management // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader // NSFW/18+

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Series Masterlist // AO3 Link // Playlist

Chapter 2: Recommended Course of Treatment

Chapter Summary: You return to Law’s exam room to begin your treatment for your chronic pain; you were unprepared, however, for Law’s twisted idea of physical therapy.

Chapter CW: afab!reader [no pronouns used]; gendered pet name ["good girl"]; extremely dubious consent; emotional and sexual coercion/manipulation; praise kink; abuse of authority [doctor/patient and captain/subordinate]; vaginal fingering

WC: 3.7k

“So what kind of treatment is this going to be?” You swung your legs absentmindedly as you sat on Law’s exam table for the second day in a row. The room smelled of rubbing alcohol, just enough to turn your stomach, kicking up just the slightest bit of acid in your already churning guts. “Like physical therapy to get me stronger or something? Support my core better or whatever?”

“Not precisely, but you’re not far off.” He stood against the counter, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest. “We’re going to focus on releasing muscle tension, and retraining your brain to release the right kind of chemicals that will help alleviate the pain more naturally. Sound reasonable?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. It certainly sounded like a lot of words to describe physical therapy, something you had done enough times that you could almost predict the routine—learn a few new stretches, modify a few old ones, maybe do some light strength training, and you’d be assured that your core would be better equipped to support your broken organs in no time.

“Now, I’d like you to take off your clothes.” He brusquely handed you a gown and a flimsy paper blanket, then returned to the counter, turning his back towards you.

“Uh, for what?” Physical therapy had never required full nudity before, at least not any kind that you could recall.

“So we can begin treatment,” he said flatly, without glancing at you.

You fiddled with the scratchy fabric, stalling as long as you could reasonably manage before asking, “Captain, what kind of treatment is this, exactly?”

“You’ll understand in a moment. Just remove your clothes, please.”

You stared at the back of his head a moment longer, trying to glean anything you could from his movements, but came up short—his lean frame kept still as he waited for you to undress, his palms flat on the counter, his breathing even and measured.

“You know, I meant to ask you yesterday,” Law started, drawing out his words, still staring ahead at the cabinets on the wall, “how long has it been since you were sexually active?”

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked, your voice muffled by the sweatshirt pulled half over your head.

“It’s a standard question to ask when doing gynecological exams.” His tone was measured, the words sounding almost rehearsed. “Sexual history is important to know for a number of reasons.”

“Uhh, I don’t know. Quite a while.” You sorted through your memories as you unzipped your pants, not being able to distinctly recall exactly when it was that you’d last had sex, cobbling together vague recollections of bodies tangled in sheets, probably fueled by alcohol and too much emptiness.

“Would you say it was before joining the Strawhats?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Interesting.” You could have sworn he almost sounded pleased by your answer, could almost hear just the slightest upturn of his mouth into a smile. “I’m surprised, no romances aboard the Sunny?”

“Nope, not a one.”

Not that you hadn’t thought about it, or had the opportunity—there was that one time that Usopp got a little handsy with you as you meandered back to the ship together after a night of revelry at some tiny tavern in the middle of nowhere, the arm around your shoulder slowly drifting down your back, finally landing even lower to cup one of your ass cheeks; he snickered to himself how much you jiggled in his hand with every step before you pushed him away and into a nearby bush. And there was Sanji—perverted, persistent Sanji—who would have probably cut off one of his limbs if it meant having even the most remote chance to spend a night between your legs, devoting himself to your pleasure. But despite whatever longing may have been felt between you and any one of your shipmates from time to time, you knew the risk was too great for heartache and turmoil and chaos if you’d given into your basest desires—you loved them all too much to ruin everything just for a little bit of satisfaction.

You finished undressing and set your heap of clothes on the chair across from you, carefully enrobing yourself in the thin cotton gown, covering your lap with the stiff paper blanket. “You can turn around now.”

“Good.” He turned towards the exam table and pulled the stirrups up from underneath it, locking them into place. “Now lay back for me.”

You laid flat on the table, the paper beneath you making an unholy crumpling noise as you adjusted your position; you placed your feet up in the stirrups and your knees instinctively drifted together. You tried to steady your breathing, at least enough to discourage your heart from thrumming so hard it made you feel sick, and to keep yourself from succumbing to the lure of hyperventilation. The stillness in the air was cut by the snap of gloves being put on and the squeak of the wheeled stool being scooted across the floor; you shuddered at the vibration of it bumping against the bottom of the exam table.

“What did I tell you yesterday?” Law chuckled quietly as he placed a gloved hand on your knee. “You have to open your legs for me.”

“Sorry, I’m just nervous.” You inhaled to the to the count of five and exhaled to the count of ten as you relaxed your muscles and let your thighs separate, feeling the stiff paper blanket start to slide away from your knees.

“Don’t be nervous.” His latex-covered palm slid down your calf, coming to rest on your ankle. “I just want to help you feel better. Understand?”

“I understand.” You nodded solemnly, knowing he likely couldn’t see it anyway.

His long fingers wrapped around your ankle and squeezed it gently. “Do you trust me?”

“Should I?”

“Tch, I’d hope so. I am your captain after all.”

You shut your eyes and pushed every bit of air out of your lungs. “I trust you.”

“Good to hear. I’m going to put my fingers inside you now, is that okay?”

“Yep.” What choice did you have but to comply at this point, with your captain slotted between your legs, eye-level with your groin, his large hands already moving towards your vulva?

Law cleared his throat as you felt fingertips gliding up and down your labia, as though he was mapping out the folds and creases of your body, then a gentle tugging sensation as he pulled them apart. “You’re well-lubricated already. That’s certainly helpful.”

Goddamit, you thought, a mortified heat spreading across your cheeks. The one time I wish I wasn’t wet…

He slowly inserted one finger, pumping it in and out a few times before muttering, “You can take more than that,” and adding a second.

“W-what are you—” you sputtered as you found yourself reflexively clenching around him, a delicate heat radiating outwards from your core.

“This is part of your treatment,” he assured you as his long fingers slowly moved in and out of you. “Just relax.”

How many times had you fantasized about being alone with him, his deft hands finding their way to the heat between your thighs? How often had you thought about watching the tattooed letters on his fingers disappear inside your drooling cunt? But this, this was wrong—you knew this was utterly, completely, totally wrong, even if your body seemed to react otherwise, and a sick voice in your head whispered that perhaps this is what you’d wanted anyway, that this what you hoped to gain from this venture all along.

“This, ah–doesn’t feel like treatment.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt yourself pulsate around him, his gloved fingers smooth and warm against your slick, wet walls.

He paused his ministrations, leaving his long fingers half-inserted, and set his free hand on your thigh. “So what exactly did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” You found yourself empty-headed and resisting a warped urge to press down against his palm while he held it still, to rock yourself against it and fuck yourself a little on his fist. “Maybe—maybe some sort of probe with heat therapy or something? I don’t know. Just…not this.”

He gently moved his fingers inside of you, scissoring them to stretch you apart, almost as if he was testing your tolerance. “You know, there was a time, many years ago, when stimulation like this is how doctors used to treat people in your situation. Orgasms were frequently used as a treatment for a number of illnesses, like hysteria.”

“Well I’m not exactly hysterical,” you mumbled, the last syllable of your sentence catching on your tongue as a soft moan fought to escape your lips.

“No, of course not.” He rotated his fingers inside you. “But you are in pain, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” you responded feebly, almost a whimper.

“And you came to me looking for help?” He drew his hand away from you bit by bit and probed at your entrance just slightly as you quivered around him.

“Yeah...” You trailed off, your thoughts starting to disappear into the thick fog that settled in your mind.

“So then you need me to treat you, don’t you?” You could picture the smirk on his face, clear as ever in your mind.

“I mean, yes but—”

“But what? Don’t you trust me?” Law cooed, stroking your inner thigh with his thumb. “As your doctor, I wouldn’t do anything to you that isn’t completely necessary. This isn’t any different than if you had a broken arm or a cut on your hand and you asked me to fix you up.”

You bit your lip, briefly opening your eyes to stare up at the bright florescent light above you. “I trust you, Captain.”

“Good.” He thrust back into you hard, plunging deep until his knuckles were pressed against your cunt and you felt your wetness leak onto his gloved hand. “And just to be clear, when we’re doing treatments, I’d prefer you call me ‘doctor.’”

“Yes, Doctor.” Doctor. The word sounded so lewd somehow, the way it came out wrapped up in a sigh.

“That’s better.”

He hooked his fingers upwards and pressed on a tender, spongy spot; you let out gasp as a warm wave of pleasure gently washed over you.

“Very responsive.” He ran his fingertips over it again and again, sparks of pleasure ricocheting through your body with every touch. “Tell me how that feels.”

“Feels—feels nice,” you admitted through a quiet whimper.

“You’re doing so well for me,” he purred. “Such a good girl.”

Before you could catch yourself, a depraved moan tumbled out of you at his words of praise, and you felt a cascade of slick leak out of you and onto his hand.

“Oh, you like that, hm?” It was sickening—you could almost hear the twisted grin that must have been spreading across his smug face. “You like being told you’re a good girl?”

“Cap—Doctor, please,” you keened, your walls clenching around him, your hands grasping the sides of the table for stability. “Don’t.”

“It’s okay for you to enjoy this.” His fingers probed you deeper, his pace quickening. You could feel your slick starting to spread outwards, sticky warmth on your inner thighs. “Just because I’m treating you doesn’t mean you can’t like it. The whole idea is for you to get some relief.”

The room echoed with the obscene sounds of your saturated cunt, Law’s gloved fingers driving into you over and over again, pulling pleasure out of you from the depths of your core. You could feel yourself getting tenser and tenser as he stroked your pulsating walls, your muscles feeling like piano wire wound too tightly, but found yourself never quite approaching the edge, never quite nearing that moment of release that you found yourself chasing.

“I-I don’t think I can,” you eventually mumbled, almost more to yourself than to him.

“No?” He slowed his movements, torturing your greedy cunt with agonizingly languid thrusts. “Is it not feeling good anymore?”

“No, it f-feels good.” Your hips still moved against him, even as you stumbled over the words you didn’t want to say. “I—I can’t usually finish from just that.”

“Just what?”

“Doctor, please.” A deluge of embarrassment started to overtake you. “Don’t make me say it.”

“I can’t help you if you won’t tell me,” he taunted. “Use your words.”

“I can’t finish from penetration,” you sputtered, adding quietly, “I usually have to touch my clit.”

“Ah, I see.” There was that wicked grin—you could hear it in every syllable. “That’s all you had to say.”

As his fingers continued to plunge into your slippery softness, you felt his other hand slide down your thigh and come to rest on your mound, feeling his latex-covered fingertips brushing against your pubic hair. He lowered his thumb down to the top of your slit, felt him pull your lips apart, and heard a low gasp emanate from him.

“You’re so swollen here.” Law’s voice was low, a throaty rumble, tinged with perversion. “I bet you must ache, hm?”

“Fuck,” you whined, increasingly unabashed in your desperation for release, “it aches so much.”

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna take good care of you now,” Law whispered, his words caressing you. “I’ll make you feel so much better.”

And you believed him, you believed in every sordid word that snaked past his lips. He placed the pad of his thumb on your tender bundle of nerves, and started making firm circles over it; a breathless gasp caught in your throat as your hips pressed up into the pleasure. Tension crept up your legs, through your thighs and your abdomen, as he danced over your throbbing clit until the feeling was almost unbearable, your moment of release nearing closer and closer with every touch and every stroke of his nimble fingers.

“I think—I think I’m getting close,” you mewled, practically wheezing, alternating between holding your breath and gasping for air. “Please don’t stop what you’re doing.”

“As if I could,” he exhaled, as he delved deeper into you, your dripping cunt pulsing and contracting with every gesture.

“Oh shit, shit.” The way he expertly manipulated you, in body and mind, had you teetering on the precipice of release, writhing on the table with his every caress; there was no other choice, no other way out, but to give yourself freely over to the depraved delight that consumed you. Your legs began to tremble in the metal stirrups, your muscles barely holding on as everything inside you tightened and tightened until it was almost excruciating. “I’m gonna—gonna—”

“That’s it, breathe through it for me,” Law panted, the heat of his breath burning on your thighs. “Cum for me. Cum on my fingers like a good girl.”

It came on slow, a pleasant heat spreading through your lower body, your hips greedily rolling in time with his continued thrusts—then, a sudden blinding pleasure hit you like a shockwave, and you convulsed into a chain of spasms, your hips bucking uselessly at nothing, your drenched walls pulsating around his lithe fingers. You quickly threw your hand up to your face, clamping it over your nose and mouth to stifle the strangled sobs that came forth as you rode out the waves of release on his tireless hands.

Your lungs burned as you gulped for air in shallow pants. You opened your eyes, only now realizing how tightly you’d had them clenched shut, tears slowly trickling down the sides of your face onto the crinkled paper underneath you. An urgent and inescapable impulse to run ran through every nerve, a violent need to escape before you could be perceived in this moment of absolute vulnerability. You squirmed in place and tried to lift your quivering legs out of the stirrups, but a strong hand on each calf held you in place.

“Just wait,” Law said, “let me clean you up first.”

The desire to elope still spread like ice-water in your veins, but forced yourself to stay still, knowing that even if you could manage to wrench yourself out of the stirrups, you’d be risking a tumble to the floor. Instead, you laid there motionless as a damp, warm cloth hit your skin. Law carefully, almost tenderly wiped down your thighs, taking his time as he cleaned the copious amounts of slick off your still-fluttering cunt, lingering just a little longer on your sensitive clit than was probably necessary.

“There you go,” he said, giving your thigh a squeeze as he stood up from between your legs and dropped the towel on the floor. You sat up on your elbows and watched him remove his gloves, and as he turned to walk towards the sink and wash his hands, you would swear later as your replayed every millisecond of the afternoon over and over again in your mind, that you saw the vague outline of a bulge in the front of his jeans. It had to be your imagination, you told yourself, wishful thinking from your tired, lust-addled brain—he promised this was strictly business as usual, after all, no different than him dressing a wound or setting a broken leg.

He stayed there, standing at the counter, gesturing towards the other side of the room. “Go ahead and dress.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter much if you see anything, does it?” you chuckled weakly as you swung your shaking legs over the side of the table and stood up, stumbling forward a bit.

“I’m still a professional.” You wondered if he actually believed that right now.

Once you announced that you were clothed, he turned to face you, and leaned back against the counter. “How do you feel now?”

“Better,” you said sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.

“Still any pain?”

“A little. Like a dull pain right here.” You motioned to the lower left of your abdomen.

“Well, we’ll need to get rid of that,” he responded. “The more we can keep you from getting too tense, and the more we can encourage your brain to pump you full of nice chemicals, the better you should feel.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You started to back away, trying to reach the door without further incident. “Thanks for this. All very helpful.”

“Now listen.” He took a few steps towards you, his long figure looming over you more and more. “I want you to come back every week for treatment.”

You stopped. “Every week?”

“I told you I wanted to leave surgical intervention as a last resort,” he explained, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his trousers. “If this helped, then we need to have a consistent treatment plan. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You glanced around the room, trying to avoid him, but there was no point; he was all-consuming now, everything in that brightly-lit space felt like it was a piece of him. Everything that came in contact with you—the table, the crinkled paper, the stiff fabric of the gown—all an extension of Law. “I mean yeah, I guess so.”

“Good. We’ll keep it just between us, of course—doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Of course. I’ll be back next week, then, I guess. Thanks again.” You turned and placed one hand on the door, trying to hurry out before he could add anything else.

“Wait.” He placed a hand on your upper arm, long fingers gripping you. “I have some instructions for you to follow until your next appointment.”

You turned and looked up at him, swallowing thickly, wondering what else he could possibly suggest to debase you any further. “And what’s that?”

“I want you to replicate this treatment every day, at least once. More if you have time.”

You blinked, and a nervous laugh sputtered out of you. “Are you—are you giving me a prescription to masturbate?”

“I suppose you could call it that,” he grinned, his dark eyes fixed on you, hand still firmly grasping your above your elbow. “But don’t you want to work on reducing your pain?”

It was true—you wanted the pain to stop. You wanted to be able to do your work around the submarine without worrying about suddenly being incapacitated; even if those episodes were only momentary, they still kept you from feeling like you could contribute consistently. More than anything, you wanted to return home to the Strawhats feeling like you could be useful again.

“I do want to be in less pain.” At this juncture, there was little you could do but agree.

“Then you’ll follow your doctor’s orders.” His fingers slid down your arm, briefly tracing the contours of your wrist before he pulled away. “I want you to be free from pain, and this is how we’re going to make it happen.”

A small “thank you” left your lips as you pushed open the metal door and hurried out of the room. You carefully shambled back to your room on boneless legs, and you leaned against the smooth metal walls to support your body, sliding along as you wandered down the seemingly never-ending hallway. You wondered if anyone else could tell what had happened as you passed them–if they could smell the shame on you, sense whatever guilt was surely emanating from your pores.

Once you were closed safely in your room, you collapsed into your bed and wound yourself up tightly in the covers, gripping a pillow to your achy chest, curling yourself inwards. Nausea began to settle in, and there was a pressure behind your eyes where tears wanted to flow, but couldn’t; this was no time for crying, only quiet reflection on every minor decision that led you to here, led you to that exam table, weak and desperate for relief.

As you laid there bundled in softness, existing somewhere in the void between consciousness and sleep, you weren’t sure what was making you feel worse: the fact that Law managed to sweet-talk you into degrading you with his fingers under the pretense of medical treatment—or the fact that you were yearning for more.