#I loved touch starved representation

[toxins-very-gay-thoughts]

#bitch touched starved #crying sobbing #im in love with the villainess #i favor the villainess #rei taylor #rei oohashi #rey taylor #claire francois #rei x claire #claire x rei #wlw #lesbian #bisexual #lgbt #lgbt representation #lgbt characters #manga #yuri #yuri manga #gl #Watashi no Oshi wa Akuyaku Reijou

[comfortless]

Pygmalion!König and Galatea!Reader………. 😖 What do you think?

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. pining, light angst. self harm, implied animal death (not done by König or reader), fluff, König is horrible and by that i mean yes— he fucks the statue, outercourse, unprotected piv, implied mutual loss of virginity.

notes: lovely Salome did something similar to this already! 💖 however. yes. i am thinking about it and well…. take this out of my hands.

König has never had anything that could properly be called his own.

He walks the city entirely alone, no wife at his side to paw at his chest and bless him with adoring glances. His only steadfast companions are the grit slipping into his sandals as he walks, head held high even as the shadow of a boy begging on his knees for any semblance of love eternally tethers itself to him.

A glance lingering too long at the appeal of a soft face, the brush of his calloused fingertips against a pornai’s bare stomach before deciding that no, he didn’t want something so simple.

He merely slips a few apologetic drachma into her waiting palm and sets her free of him.

A warm body would never be enough, it was the heart that he starved for. To bed some poor creature that would never properly love him would be worse than the greatest of tortures in his mind.

It wasn’t a simple affair to find a lady to marry, either. Foreign soldier that he was, he had no right to some politician’s pretty daughter, court her properly and sweep her away to a bed that’s only ever been a harbor for lonely, twisted bitterness and blood.

Most turned away the moment he passed by: frightened glances that rightfully accused him of immense violence, shushed whispers of “barbarian” passed from soft lips before the sand beneath their fretful feet shifted and their shapes had disappeared from view entirely.

The ceaseless loneliness carves a burning ache somewhere within the expanse of his chest, something he knew he would never truly be free of, not until it rotted it’s way out of him in full.

It only seemed to quiet in moments he shed blood for this foreign country; burying his sword in some poor man’s gut was the closest he could get to sheathing a part of himself inside another, to touching a heart, seeing lips part in a gasp as their world becomes entirely consumed by him.

Just as the many days prior to this one, he grips the hilt of his blade, letting the metal dig into his palm, his knuckles bone white, as he makes his way back to the empty shack deemed a home.

Streets quiet and crowds disperse with each of his silent footfalls— not one of these smaller men or fearful women dares to look him in the eye. The only thing that does, the only eyes that ever lock to his, are those peering out from the harbor.

The figurehead guarding her expertly crafted ship has always called to him.

Her beauty was remarkable, from the curl of her hair to the patient look in her eyes. Her hands clasped before her breasts in silent prayer as she looms over the darkened depths of the sea beyond the soil, calling him to board, to venture away from this place that his left him in such an acute state of misery.

He swears he hears it then, a mere whisper on the wind, urging him in featherlight comfort to lie down his sword and take up the chisel and hammer.

It’s only when he pauses to look the gentle face of the figurehead over once more that he finds himself resolute in what he must do.

— — —

When he took to crafting her it was born of this desperation; hazy moonbeams cutting through the shade of his shack for hours before he would reluctantly pull away from a beautifully carved hand or the soft but stiff curve of a neck to retire to the straw-stuffed mattress at the corner of the room.

She was beautiful, a representation of all of the sweet, effeminate softness he would marvel at from afar. The swell of plush breasts, curved hips and silken thighs, eternally parted by her stance, the sweet face that could make any man feel entirely weak…

His hands tremble when they rest upon her form, unsure of just how such splendor could have come from his own coarse palms.

Weeks of scarce sleep only seemed to further his devoted madness. Though the warring dulled the ache and sated his blade, the longing seemed to only grow far more prevalent.

He yearned when they were apart, dreamt of coming home to her less lifeless and only demure smiles and hurried kisses the moment he would return to her. He would always come back.

Upon her completion, he took to courting her proper. Though she could not in any way reciprocate or reject his advances, he believed wholeheartedly that the cushiony love that had blossomed within his aching, neglected heart must be mutual.

Gifts were strewn at her cold feet, some gilded and shimmery, some soft with an abundance of colorful petals: offerings for a silent goddess that kept a part of his soul hidden away deep inside the pristine marble that she was carved from.

When he wraps her neck in a necklace with a sparkling beryl amulet attached, his hand does drift to the swell of her breast beneath the woolen chiton.

It’s hard and cold, but his groping becomes as incessant as the kisses he presses to her jaw, to her cold lips, tongue leaving a warm path down to her neck before he finds himself committed to having her.

He’s careful when he disrobes her, slowly revealing the mounds and curves and softness of her imitation of human flesh.

Dropping to his knees, his tongue laps at the ivory depiction of smooth lower lips, spearing between each silken ridge until he imagines her eyes squeezing shut as she cries out for him, rolling her perfectly sculpted hips to coat his tongue in waves of vulgar honey.

He moans into her cunt, drools and sucks at the mimicry for as long as it takes to find her thighs drenched in his saliva and his cock aching horribly between his thighs.

He rises to slot himself between her legs, pushing forward with a keening whine that dissipates into a relieved gasp. The feel of her pressed against him; the smooth ridges of her makeshift flesh running over his stiff, leaking cock is akin to finding divinity.

His hands rove over her breasts, thumbs pressed against her eternally pebbled nipples as he kisses her, each sloppy and filled with years of need.

It is pure bliss, almost as though he is burying himself to his hilt inside of her pulsing cunt.

He would fuck her better than any man— not a single other could match the strength of his affections nor his hapless willingness to please.

If he could have carved a proper hole between her legs, not a drop of his seed would be wasted on thin sheets or spilled into his palm, she would be filled, womb brimming until some loving god or goddess blessed her with child.

His pace quickens to the point of frantic, feverish hands drifting to her hips as he mouths at her breasts instead, hissing out praises for how good she feels against him, how his heart bleeds to feel her nearer.

There is so much heat between her thighs now he could swear it burns like the cold mist of the Underworld itself; the fuzzy heat pools from his navel and further as his muscles begin to tense and leave his thoughts a haze and his lips parted in a silent, worshipping cry.

It’s only when he envisions her tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, back arching as she drags her nails over his shoulders and whines through her own damnation that his cock throbs in repetition as his eyes roll back. His heavy sack arrives at her mound as his seed spills from him, cascading down to paint the thighs of his silent lover, smeared pearly and glistening over her labia as he rubs his cockhead against her with an agonized groan.

His forehead finds her shoulder, warm breath replacing the coldness of her skin as he wraps his arms around her perpetually beckoning form, lovingly trailing kisses from her clavicle to her ear where he whispers a breathless, “I love you.”

It’s only after he’s finished wiping away the evidence of depravity from her that he feels the first wave of shame, sharp and feathering from his chest that leaves his jaw set and throat tight.

What lowly man envies the warmth others experience with far less gratitude? König has never seen himself as pathetic, no matter how commonly he’s been sent off and kicked like a stray.

She’s the only thing that’s brought him any sort solace in a world that’s left him starved, but also a cruel mirror casting a reflection of his own nature.

Pulling the thin blanket from his mattress, the statue is soon swallowed up in her entirety, all guilt and pity-drawing attestation neatly hidden away behind rippling sable fabric; her form silent and waiting as it would remain eternally.

None of this is enough.

———

König has never found himself fond of prayer, never felt the need to partake in the festivals and ceremonies. His luck in battle was only a mere measure of skill, of a body so brutal and immense that most trembled before him, not born of any benevolent gift. There was no need to kneel, to bestow offerings upon the altars. If the people turned away from him, then surely any god or goddess would be even more inclined to do so.

Only… his mindless wandering has led him here, to Aphrodite’s altar whilst the festival of Aphrodisia plays on everywhere around him. The people invoke and dance, abundant offerings brought forth as the scent of timber burning and bold floral incense floods his senses. Blood and flowers already riddle the stone, a stark vibrancy of color that lures him closer, commands him to kneel.

He doesn’t have a thing to offer to the goddess, not so much as a petal, but if the pull were not just the first signs of a withering mind…

The glimpse of hope he’s offered is not taken for granted.

Thick fingers curl over his sharpened blade, dragging his palm against the steel until it stings almost sweetly. If she could accept the blood of a goat then surely, his could be no more polluted. Beads of crimson revel and dance along his forearm before dropping down onto the stone.

And he does pray.

It is not a vulnerable prayer, one that bares him in full, but only a wish— a longing for warmth, to have her share his breath, to admonish his shame and live free with the one thing that has never given him anything but safe harbor.

He unveils her when he returns, knowing that this is the closest he will ever come to love.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes against her cheek, leaves a kiss there before dragging himself away to disrobe and pull himself back into bed.

When the weariness takes him, his sleep in dreamless and calm. If any blessing were bestowed upon him at all, the surely that would have been more than enough. A night without turning, without visions of a darkened grave devoid of anything to haunt him.

He only begins to stir when the mattress dips at his side, a soft palm pressed to his chest, stroking along the loose curls of auburn there.

“König..,” a voice calls out, more gentle than any he’s ever heard.

He wakes to find her, leaning over him with the sweetest glimmer in her eyes, wide and fascinated. Her touches only trail further up to his face as he tries to silence the rapid beating of his heart, the stinging born of adoration in his own pale blue eyes.

“I missed you,” she whispers, moving to curl at his side, her hands cradling either side of his jaw.

König is utterly stifled and so terribly smitten, the most he can manage is a quiet huff of breath as he rolls onto his side to take this sweet, unreal woman into his arms. Dreaming or waking, it mattered not, if he were given only the night or a lifetime with this beautiful little creature it’s still more than he has ever had.

His head dips to press a chaste kiss to her soft lips, only finding a warmth there that had never been the many times he had kissed her prior. His palm runs along her side, feeling ever perfect dip and curve, all heated and so very alive.

She only falls apart beneath his touch, already quivering and softly gasping even from such a gentle kiss. The thought that this little dove has been longing for him just as much makes his heart bleed. He whispers his apologies against her temple, for his frustrations, for his doubt in their love, for all of the temptations and hatred that plagued his mind before she came to be.

She only answers with eager touches, grasping at him as she murmurs her own perceived shortcomings. If only she knew that she could never do wrong, that she was what’s saved him and that nothing could shatter that.

When her tongue slips past his lips and his breath grows heavy, there’s little else he can concentrate on than the throbbing pillar between his legs, the scent of her around him, under him when he guides her onto her back.

Thanking the goddess could wait, he’s far too focused on the one that’s willingly climbed into his bed.

One hand splays at her side forcing him upright as the other trails over her breasts, a satisfied groan leaves him as he feels her softness, fighting back to urge to squeeze and pinch until she cries in pleasure, howling out like those at the altar he had encountered only earlier.

A nipple is snared between his thumb and index, twisted gently beneath each pad, her back arches…The wetness of the dew slicked flower between her legs brushes against him and he whines like a starved dog finally presented with the aroma of a meal.

His hand falls from her breast to her hip, encouraging her to buck the source of her own need against him— take anything she needed. If she were to pull a blade and carve a hole in his own chest he would only let her, the taste of this heated bliss and the look that she gives him, enchanted and curious, is more than he has ever deserved.

Only does he pause when he parts her thighs, and her stare becomes more curious, searching him for any reason as to why he would even stop.

“We have done this before. Are you afraid now?”

No, he wants to tell her, that before was not the full extent of it. Instead he only laughs, peeling away just enough to fit his head between her legs, mouth only a small measure from her weeping cunt.

“I want to taste you.”

With a whispered plea from her lips, he raises her hips, mouthing and suckling at her until she shivers and sings against the cushions. He groans against her when she does come, her hips stuttering in his grasp as she drives further against him.

He hisses in his mother tongue when he pushes the backs of her thighs up, grinds his leaking tip against her until he swears he really will fall into madness if he doesn’t fuck into her immediately.

The ache in his chest that his been so prevalent for so long is finally smothered out the very moment she tugs him down by his shoulders and pulls him into a frenzied kiss. She encourages him in each lapse, murmurs how long that she’s waited, how starved she’s been for him while hidden away.

He nearly sobs when his tip snags against her entrance, so divinely wet, pulsing and begging just as he is. When he penetrates her, the breath is punched from his lungs, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of her within reach as she wraps around his shaft as though her cunt was made for him.

His little dove only covers him in kisses in turn as he mumbles obscenities into her flesh, revelling in her tightness, in the way her body fits so perfectly against his, mutually carved by the gods to fulfill one another. His professions of love come in abundance as she fits her legs over his narrow hips, crying out from his sudden depth as his cock jumps against a spot that leaves her writhing.

Though it’s almost painful to keep himself restrained, he tries his best not to rut into her like a mindless animal, even when he feels her constrict around him as another orgasm leaves her cunt drooling and pulsing. He doesn’t give her time to recover, however… forced to lie in wait for so long, it’s nearly taken out on her as he spears into her as she moans and babbles her praises against his chest.

He’s lost to the empyrean as his muscles finally pull taut, crying as he buries his head into her shoulder and pumps his come into her, shaking as he wraps her up in his arms and clutches her close as he melts against her.

Spent and sated, König holds her tightly against him as they pant and share sweet words, secrets and giggles from her that make every moment of dolor before this night seem insignificant.

She slots her fingers between his own, compliments his damaged face and the worships his body with brushes of her lips and tongue just as he does her. He does not leave her empty, warms her heart with words he’s kept trapped in his throat for months, guides her gently as she perches over him to descend back onto his cock, his thumb stroking her stomach as he tells her over and again just how much he loves her, compared his feelings to that of Orpheus, how he would suffer anything all for her.

A pleading “Stay” is uttered as she falls limp against him, stroking along her back as they come down for the second time that night.

The last thing that leaves her lips before sleep takes her is the most saccharine she’s said that night, a simple, “I love you.”

It’s the only thing that he’s ever truly longed for.

———

They marry after the voyage back to his homeland, his head clouded during the entire trip of seeing her swell with his child in time, a home built with her in mind for the two of them, of lying flowers at her feet just as he had before.

His blade lies neglected in the little glade they had chosen, taking up only a hammer and his own hands as he works tirelessly to provide for his wife, the dove that looks at him as though he were not a dog but a king.

When their home is built after many weeks of tedious work during day and bedding her beneath the stars each night, König only then thinks to pray his thanks to the foreign goddess who gifted his salvation to him with little more than a scrape from his palm. All the while his true goddess leans over him to tickle his cheek with flowers he had plucked for her only moments prior, covering him in a fragrance so sweet it only seemed befitting of herself.

She giggles and sighs when he pulls her down into the grass to roll over her, blanket her in kisses and gentle bites to her throat.

The beryl amulet around her neck catches the glimmer of the sun above as she sifts her fingers through his hair and tells him that the gods already knew he was grateful, that his worship of her was already telling enough.

#könig #könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig #cod fanfiction

[crimeronan]

basically my standards for gay/trans media these days are that it has to be something i'd still enjoy even if none of the characters were gay or trans. bc otherwise the whole thing is a waste of my fucking time. in 2012 i was so starved for gay representation that i'd consume anything that so much as mentioned queerness just to feel less alone but that's not the world we live in anymore and i don't want to go back to that world and i would be miserable continuing to pretend that gayness is the pinnacle of good writing in 2023 it feels so.... gross. i like being spoiled with a rapturous amount of gay content to choose from and plenty of the gay content i DON'T like is beloved by other queer people and i don't have to love every gay narrative or pretend to. so i'm no longer touching any shit that doesn't do the kind of cool storytelling that compels me. i did my years in the trenches.

#unlikely to ever finish aftg partially for this and partially bc i really only wanted to participate in fandom and #my experiences with the fandom and its discourse put me off it like. yeah actually i dont want to be involved with any of this #eta: please don't tag this post q slur. i'd rather you simply didn't reblog it.

[bishiglomper]

The problem with being an Alastor-loving-ace is the fact that one absolutely does want to be respectful of his aromantic and asexuality-- there's hardly any actual confirmed canon representation anywhere so of course it must be protected at all costs, it's just so rare and this particular character has tons of qualities we all love him for.

But you also have to consider we're probably the most repressed and touch-starved of the queer demographic. I mean, some of the best fluff and smut are written by aros and aces and that's probably how we cope with the situation of not actually wanting these things but still craving the intimacy and touch and admiring the fantasy of such situations (or so says this aego-ace)

So then it comes down to which projection we want out of our fan content: the representation and understanding of our real life preferences and struggles, letting us feel seen

or the absolute horny-on-main manifestation of our inner (monster)fuckers, which we don't get to let loose anywhere else but through said beloved characters we kin and latch onto for whatever reasons

If it doesn't make us any less aro and ace to consume such content, it shouldn't make him any less of a representation even if we choose not to entirely represent him in that way. Aromanticism and asexuality are a spectrum, if we can tailor our preferences to fit our own feelings and actions, so can we of our blorbos.

What we need is to be respectful toward each other, not so much the characters.

And besides that, we'll always have canon ❤️

#oh look a coherent thought thats rare #hazbin hotel #alastor #asexual #aromantic #hazbin alastor #aegosexual #asexual alastor #aromantic alastor

[pufflehuffing]

Hungry Like The Wolf. - Professor!Sebastian Sallow X F!Student!Reader 🔞

pairing: Professor!Sebastian Sallow X F!Student!Reader (part 2 of this fic, but can be read by itself, the plot is minimal and explained here too) genre: smut, mdni (everyone is 18+) warnings: wordplay on animal costumes (not actual animal smut!) | underage drinking | teacher/student | fingering | eating out | unprotected fucking | breeding | cum eating  summary: Weeks after the tryst in Professor Sallow’s office, Halloween rolled around. Surrounded by gloomy decorations and merrymaking, a wolf and his bunny find a way to continue their passionate love away from the festivities. word count: 10.2k A/N: The Halloween costumes were loosely inspired by this Alice In Wonderland art from @choccy-milky & @dansgiii, thank you for the inspo! I also blame @dvinaamesca for her pictures of Sebastian that make me crave this man like a starving woman. Every time I see one, all I can envision is professor Sallow! My masterlist.

Silhouettes danced around the candlelit Great Hall, making it look straight from hell itself. Pumpkins joyously peeked from every nook and the resident ghosts danced through the lights, casting eerie shadows throughout the castle's most elegantly furnished room. Costumed students and professors mingled about, the latter's nerves jangled with anticipation as if awaiting tricks rather than treats. Professor Sallow strode confidently towards a quiet corner, emitting an arrogant air, his gaze carefully keeping watch of the partying students. Meanwhile, in the corridor outside, staggered a lithe footstep; dragged almost, as if struggling towards the gathering. It was her. Her careful tread echoed, signalling her imminent arrival.

Professor Sallow’s brow perked up immediately at the sight of those familiar, innocent eyes walking in. His heart raced faster, thinking back of their encounter from a month ago, and he already cursed himself for not bringing his cloak with him to hide his imminent arousal. “Finally,” he thought. “There she is.” His eyes devoured every flawless inch from across the room, his gaze drinking in every pore that begged for his touch weeks ago and every cut from his duelling classes since then. Even clad in that revealing fur-lined baby blue dress with white bunny ears, she was breathtakingly beautiful. But, she didn't notice him yet, too fixated on searching for the familiar faces of her friends among the packed crowd.

The professor remained standing tall and imposing against the wall, his own costume fitting his presence perfectly. His tall frame was draped in a black shirt and slacks, accentuating his toned frame underneath. His hair was tousled wildly, giving an air of danger hidden beneath his composed façade while brown, conjured wolf ears peeked out from his curls. The irony was not lost on him amidst energetic laughter and festive chatter filling the hall. They were symbolic representations framed against such a backdrop; the hunter chasing the prey yet dominated by it simultaneously. He leaned against the wall, sipping from a glass of firewhisky nonchalantly, casually passing friendly words with fellow teachers and students that passed him. Unbeknownst to them all, his eyes never left her, the animalistic hunger in them growing more pronounced with each passing moment.

Her gaze landed upon her friends, her smile brightening momentarily. She laughed at a joke directed at her that fell on deaf ears for him. He watched, craving to devour this view of her happiness privately. Encased within their attire hung both their secret, delight and anxious longing for a private moment amidst the festivities. Regardless of the bunch gathered at this event, something deep inside him longed to peel the layers of her bunny suit off her sensuous form under dim lights' aid.

His eyes followed her as she joined her friends who appeared absolutely thrilled to see her. However, his heart twisted in anticipation; every laugh and joke shared became less enticing by the minute due to the own secret dialogue of attraction lingering between star-crossed costumed lovers. The wolf chased his rabbit across a sea of strangers, waiting for their moment away from prying eyes to resume their liberating cycle behind closed doors.

Approaching the small cluster of seventh-years, he cleared his throat, casual yet commanding as always. "Miss, may I borrow you away from your merrymaking?" His words held an underlying note of urgency that only those attuned to him would pick up. She turned reluctantly, flashing her sweet smile. "Of course, professor," she said politely, extracting herself gracefully from the group. "Good evening, girls," he said to the remaining group. "Thought I'd have a word with her before things get rowdier." The others giggled nervously, hearing the more sinister edge to his normally jovial tone. His wolf-ears flipped back happily as he turned to the delighted girl, her eyes sparkling with equal bewilderment and excitement.

"Cute bunny attire," he complimented, his hand subtly brushing past the fluffy ball on her behind as he moved her in front of him and led her through the crowd. She giggled nervously, her heart skipping a beat at this public display of affection. "Yes, quite a coincidence, isn't it?" She managed to choke out. "Where did the idea come from to be a wolf?" Her eyes searched his behind her curiously, but he seemed unaffected by the truth lingering beneath their costumes. His eyes wandered around them, then back to her bashfully playful face hidden partially behind her hair. "It only struck me last minute. Found it fitting too…" He trailed off in a husky whisper as he leaned down to her ear, a gesture that could be perceived as innocent due to the loud environment. His furry ears bounced like his heartbeat, expecting some thrill soon, more specifically: his ideal prey, all dressed up amidst holiday cheer.

When they were finally out of earshot from the crowd, the air around them crackled energetically in a corner of the Great Hall. His hand grazed her waist lightly— enough contact for now with this many witches and wizards close by. "Ever wary as a wolf, you see," his fingers waved in quotations. The levitating decorations above them teased at their desires hidden behind flimsy façades. A secret battle between their animalistic identities showcased through these outfits. "We both know we won't stay away from temptation tonight…" he concluded notably after taking another sip from his firewhisky.

She glanced at his drink, tilting her head slightly. "Is that alcoholic? It smells… strange." Her eyes were wide with curiosity mixed with anticipation. His gaze darkened ever so slightly as he lifted the glass out of her reach if she'd dare try to take a sip. "No, no, sweetheart, you're too young for that." Protectiveness flashed in those brown eyes that roamed over her child-like bunny costume thoughtfully before meeting her gaze again. She sighed, slightly disappointed but secretly appreciative of his concern. With a mischievous glint in her own eyes, she curiously asked him about the contents of his drink. Professor Sallow, ever the distinguished gentleman, chuckled cunningly at her curiosity. "Just firewhisky," he explained in hushed tones intended only for her ears' delight. "Something not appropriate for such tender lips," he leaned in again, a cocky aura oozing from him. As if governed by internal instincts, his wolf ears perked up subtly at the thought of starting something infinitely more exciting than just these whispers in the corner of the Great Hall.

"Firewhisky?" she asked innocently, a hint of curiosity colouring her voice. "What's that?"

Professor Sallow chuckled softly, amused by her childlike curiosity. "A grown-up drink," he explained playfully, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Not something for someone as young and innocent as you." He watched as she pouted prettily, her large eyes locking onto his in a silent plea for some resolution. "Getting you tipsy is the last thing I intend to do tonight,” he grinned teasingly, carelessly running his fingertips along the pillar beside her. "I can think of other plans for you though, dear." His wolf-ears seemed to flutter with excitement at the prospect and perhaps even a tinge of possessiveness.

Her eyes shifted from the ground up to meet his expectantly. Blushing, she hesitated slightly before responding softly, "I liked our last… meeting… in your office." There was a hint of nervousness in her tone as she spoke about their secret rendez-vous. The recollection of their deep kisses and subsequent pounding of his cock inside her had left an aura of guilt around them which neither could shake off entirely.

Hearing this unexpected confession, Professor Sallow's eyes sparkled with newfound confidence and mischief despite the faintest shadow of worry present behind them. He licked his lips thoughtfully in response during the courageous moment they shared, standing silently under the animated decorations above them. His eyes seemed to say "shame on you" and yet his fingers insisted on brushing gently past her fluffy bunny tail again, almost a silent applause to their naughty deeds.

"And here we are again," he whispered almost accusingly yet not without his interest being piqued. He sipped more firewhisky from his glass before slowly continuing. There was genuine concern behind his words as he looked down into her large, defiant eyes; still innocent yet newfound grown-up thoughts etched all over her face tonight. “We really shouldn't be doing this, sweetheart…" he trailed off, hinting at what lay ahead for them shortly. The wolf's ears twitched irresistibly from his imaginations of his bunny bouncing on his lap again.

"Yes…" she agreed hesitantly, her voice sounding defeated. She bit her bottom lip nervously, glancing around them cautiously before returning her attention to him. Tensions in the air thickened palpably as they stood there, waiting for whatever would happen next. Their bodies ached with desire for each other; the brushing of fingers and accidental contact heightening the anticipation. She winced slightly when he took another sip of firewhisky, knowing all too well how potent it could be, especially when combined with his state of heightened arousal. Her palms trembled at the sight of his strong, muscular arm; conveying both fascination and fear at what was unfolding between them. Despite knowing she shouldn't pursue this relationship further— or at all, for that matter— something inside her couldn't resist the pull of their forbidden connection.

"But, professor…" she managed to choke out, her voice barely audible above the background noise. She paused, steeling herself for whatever repercussions followed her actions, but also eagerly awaiting the release of their pent-up desires. Her breath hitched as she watched him casually take another gulp of his drink, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing, reminding her of his strong masculinity. "I can't help it," she confessed boldly yet with firm eyes, defiance painted in bold strokes on her angelic face. She knew what she was asking from him was risky and taboo, but tonight felt different under the shroud of Halloween blissfully brewing around them. Bringing down his hand from the pillar, she intertwined their fingers despite his protests or concerns. "I can't help what I feel." Another glimpse around confirmed no one was paying attention in this sea of costumed joyous souls; still, every sighted eye in their general direction felt like danger and judgement.

His gaze lingered on their interlocking fingers then trailed back to meet her brave, beguiling gaze, heart throbbing against his chest like a wild creature she had tamed part of. The firewhisky played tricks on him now; it seemed more like a burning invitation instead of dulling his senses as it should have been. "The chase was worth the prize,” didn't he always think? Now he could almost feel her lithe body beneath those fur-lined layers. "You should go back," he warned softly yet hungered for this daring display of affection even though they were on borrowed time. He tilted his head playfully at her boldness. "I do believe your friends would miss their bunny," he teased slightly, but lust coursed through his words marked by hunger glinting dangerously.

Her sparkling eyes conveyed a mixture of challenge and desire. "They wouldn't mind if she decided to hop into another burrow," she said playfully, letting go of his hand with a reluctant squeeze. With her gaze still locked on him, she sighed softly in pure resolution as she understood this conversation led nowhere professional. She wanted adventure, which was embodied purely by him. Acting as the backdrop to their hidden intentions, laughter echoed through the Great Hall, but it sounded distant amidst the intoxicating desire brewing between them. The wolf's heart thumped heavily within him, mirroring the bunny's, pulsing with nervous excitement.

Professor Sallow's eyes settled on her with a predatory gleam, unable to resist any longer as her boldness propelled them further into their forbidden territory. But even amidst the pulsing rapture, he couldn't ignore the unfortunate context of it all— a student daring her idolised professor and vice versa. "We really shouldn't," he mumbled aloud one last time like an oath, breaking her gaze while his hand still yearned to grab her elusive body again. He inhaled deeply to quell a sudden urge; no interruption seemed to appear tonight unless she let her impatience lead them into potential danger. His heart pounded against his chest like a wolf pacing in a cage, eager for release from self-imposed restraint yet appreciating her fearlessness before him under the ceilings hung with gory decorations. He knew where this could lead them both if caught, but dismissed every possibility except for continuing with their plans. "But we will," he smiled secretively, relief palpable under the phantom shadows cast by the candles floating randomly through the grand hall that night.

Her playful gaze seemed to flash a dare in his direction, causing his furred ears to twitch with anticipation. He couldn't help but notice the fervour dancing in her eyes as she slowly extended her hand towards his glass of firewhisky. He watched her with an intensity born out of their situation and quickening heartbeat. He decided to test her resolve, pulling it away again just before she could touch it. The resulting puppy-like pout gracing her face was breathtakingly delightful. "Patience, dear," he grinned mysteriously into her pouty stare, aroused by her audacity even more now than before. Despite everything that twirled around and within them, there was also an unspoken urge to protect her. After all, he was her teacher.

Beneath the veil of Halloween festivities, Professor Sallow's desires were invigorated by this unconventional game they were playing. The grey area between their teacher-student relationship had never felt so explicit or thrilling, even that faithful evening in his office wasn't this raunchy. His erection strained against his black trousers unapologetically but surprisingly found solace in her teases that were laced with challenges only girls her age could deliver.

Her gaze flickered between him and the elusive glass that was denied yet again, a clear challenge in the eyes staring at him. She huffed lightly, bringing forth a much younger and carefree side he didn't always see from his student. "Just a taste?" she pleaded playfully, her pout now tinged with alluring sincerity. "I haven't had anything stronger than pumpkin juice since…" her words died down into a whisper as if reminiscing distant childhood days. The wolf's small heart responded enthusiastically to her persistence; denying this could make her annoyed, and that was the last thing he wanted from his precious sweetheart. "You promise you can handle it?" He double-checked, concern lacing his voice. His hand hovered close enough before handing over the surprisingly heavy glass holding the amber liquid.

Reluctantly, she nodded her head and accepted the glass from him. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest as she lifted it to her lips, the spicy warmth of the drink burning a trail down her throat. It was unlike anything she had ever had before and despite her acquaintance with wine and ale back home, it left her reeling slightly. Her face flushed redder than usual and she coughed lightly, her chest heaving as she set the glass back in his hand forcefully. She struggled to catch her breath, her eyes watering ever so slightly. "It's… strong," she managed to choke out between gasps. Her eyes pleaded with him not to send her away yet and even through the foggy haze caused by the drink, she could sense his amusement at her discomfort.

Professor Sallow couldn't help but snicker at her misfortune, his hand brushing lightly over her elbow to steady her while her eyes darted around furtively for any signs of eavesdroppers before calming back down. The warm feeling pervading inside him was a perfect mix of concern and sheer amusement; an unusual cocktail for someone in his position, she had to admit. "Firewhisky isn't for the faint-hearted, my dear." His concerned whisper was laced with humour as she looked at him with watery eyes.

"I can understand why.” Her voice was tainted with the smoke and fire from the drink but her eyes twinkled mischievously, still challenging him surprisingly well. The brave girl dared further into unknown territories of seduction, her cheeks still blushing fiercely from the alcohol. "You haven't told me yet…” she breathed lightly, catching him off-guard since they'd taken care not to speak openly about their secret tryst here or anywhere else before. Her irresistible smile highlighted her genuine interest while also demanding an answer. Her boldness showed even when she was recovering from the strong drink he fed her a moment ago. "Did you enjoy it?" She asked directly, looking straight through his eyes whose depth she knew by now.

Professor Sallow's brown ears twitched noticeably at her daring question that echoed through the festivities around them. His heart pounded against his chest with a fierce anticipation of their passionate history intertwined under the disguises of Halloween music and decorations. He took another gulp of firewhisky, hiding his growing arousal from her gaze. His eyes bore into hers before answering slowly, each word wrought with restraint, "I won't lie about it; yes." Despite holding back, he could not deny it. It was adventurous, just like their conversation tonight enveloped by strange decorations. The wolf inside him trembled at the memory of the past evening he shared with such a bold enchantress disguised as a student.

His answer seemed to embolden her further as her eyes gleamed with triumph and lust. Despite the tension lingering in the air between them, their hearts synchronised like old lovers sharing secrets at last. With defiance etched into every contour of her face, she leaned closer towards him, flirting dangerously close to intimate territory. "Then perhaps, we should do it again?" Her soft murmur was burdened with fervent desire and now it appeared neither was willing or able to resist this mutual longing anymore, even amidst a crowd eager to celebrate their costumed night.

Professor Sallow's hand tightened around hers again, borrowing comfort from solid contact amidst the chaos surrounding them. His mind whirred with thoughts; he knew exactly where her proposal led but couldn't resist its temptation. "And what makes you think I won't say no?" He asked, feigning innocence despite his racing pulse and bulge in his pants.

"You wouldn't dare disappoint me tonight, would you?" She declared boldly, innocence leaving her features to reveal the fire inside her eyes. She pulled her hand away, standing mere inches away from his warmth, awaiting his answer. Her scent mixed with the faint hint of alcohol was uniquely intoxicating and despite knowing better, he found himself succumbing to her siren song.

Smirking playfully, the professor took another sip of his drink, letting the liquid burn in his throat before responding to her innocent yet provocative challenge. "My dear, I never refuse passionate requests from strikingly intelligent young women." His gaze held an unspoken promise she found both enticing and terrifying all at once. Noticing her visible excitement, he leaned closer, whispering into her ear. "Your performance in class has improved quite remarkably since our… private session together." His heavy breath brushed against her sensitive skin, causing a shiver to course through her body.

The air between them was thick with anticipation and daring intentions; her composure was a tightrope that was increasingly difficult to walk. Her eyes, punctuated by a thrill of excitement, met his smirking gaze as she nodded in agreement. "Then it's worth repeating," she declared arrogantly, her voice low yet steady with hidden bravado.

His glass trembled slightly, an unmistakable sign of tense expectancy or perhaps pure lust. He stole another glance around them, then looked back into her confident but vulnerable eyes. "This might just turn out to be your most memorable Halloween yet," he commented huskily, his wolf trapped inside yearning for liberation. The wolfish professor surveyed the commotion around them and whispered into her ear. "Meet me in the hallway outside, five minutes." It was a command couched in words of an intimate plan they were now committed to execute. Beneath the pulsating music and laughter, they dared their next extraordinary rendez-vous into reality and their unapologetic, unashamedly lustful hearts aligned under the ghosts waltzing through the air above them.

Accepting his command silently, she nodded in agreement before slowly releasing herself from his gaze. With a teasing smile playing at the corner of her mouth, she flitted back to her circle of friends, the bunny ears on her diadem bobbing up and down. Her voice was empty with feigned sickness as she explained to them with a faint smirk on her face. "I am feeling a bit unwell. I think it's best that I leave and head to bed early." Despite their questions she didn't linger for any negotiations about her leaving early from the party. Slipping through the crowded room faster than light amid the spooky decorations, she couldn't help but hum gleefully under breath. Her heart pounded at every beat of the music, faster than Devil's Snare slithering in darkness under this fascinating endeavour they embarked upon.

Professor Sallow discreetly watched his muse slip away from her friends amidst their questions; a hearty grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he prepared his own alibi. "Excuse me gentlemen, duty calls,” he murmured suavely amidst his colleagues before disappearing into the crowd with an air of calm resolution. His path led him to where he'd arranged their secret rendez-vous outside in one of the less-frequented hallways, heart racing like a trapped hare under his shirt just as much in anticipation as fear. When he arrived at said location, she stood framed against the dark corridor, an apparition straight out of a fairy tale. A playful smirk adorned her lips and although bathed in shadows, he could see the excitement shimmering in her eyes. She tapped her heel impatiently but kept looking around frequently to make sure no one was watching them.

Taking notice of her restlessness and cautiousness, the professor pressed himself against the wall facing her, his gaze drawing an invisible connection between them despite their distance. Despite the silence echoing through the deserted hallway, there was an electric energy passing between them that hummed louder than any cacophony around them. The game was set, players were ready, and now all it took was daring one step over the line. He let out an exhale softly, his accent thickening with desire. "You have no idea how hard you make me with that dress," he proclaimed boldly, for those words didn't hold regret or apology. Her beauty and bravery stole more than just his heartbeats tonight; it captured the very essence of his freedom and will.

The playful tension between them seemed to heighten further with every whispered word, their breaths misting heavily against the cold, stone walls. She licked her lips nervously before confessing honestly. "And… you make me just as… excited." Her admission hung heavy in air with its promise and danger veiled beneath layers of modesty. His eyes followed her gaze towards him, taking note of his growing erection apparent under his trousers. It was a ripe testament overhanging their imminent hookup dictated by the strong brew and daring whispers lost in the festivities earlier. "Is that so?" he breathed out into the silence. His wolf dared him to take the first step across that thin line emerging between them. "Do I?" His voice broke off into a deep growl, revealing his own state of mind, swaying between primal desire and caution.

Then suddenly, under the wall-mounted torches flickering eerily, he was there, his lips crashing onto hers forcefully. His tongue invaded her mouth aggressively, claiming his territory. His hand snaked up to cup her breast through the fabric of her dress, teasing and tweaking her sensitive nipple cruelly. Their tongues tangled passionately; his warmth radiating through their bodies, stinging her lips, but she eagerly reciprocated, matching his heated tempo. Suddenly, he pulled away quickly, his breathing heavy and his eyes glinting with approval.

The sudden forcefulness of their snog caught her off-guard but didn't deter her desire. With a pouty moan, she initiated another round, matching his hunger. The pleasure coursing through her veins was like liquid fire, burning away all remnants of hesitation or caution she still harboured. Their teeth clashed furiously, exchanging their collective moans and whimpers muffled by the pounding music coming from inside the Great Hall. Feeling emboldened, she grabbed ahold of his collar and yanked him closer to her like a suggestive chess move. "Take me," she declared breathlessly, her fingers trembling slightly as they dug into the black fabric. Lord knows how many times she had fantasised about this moment since that fateful night a month ago.

Sensing her desperation, something clicked inside Professor Sallow, ruling him rational once more. His inner lecturer surged through him, overruling the beast unleashed momentarily. "Not here, not like this," he muttered darkly, pulling away slightly but still keeping their bodies pressed against each other. Glancing around nervously, he grabbed her delicate wrist firmly without gentleness. "We need privacy."

Without waiting for her consent, he dragged her swiftly down an empty corridor lit by the glow of torches, pulling her along with the sheer force of his desire burning brightly within him. Despite his insistence on privacy, the thrill of being dragged away by such a powerful person instantly worked as an aphrodisiac for her nerves. Her heart pounded intensely against her chest but she didn't object or resist. Instead she followed him obediently with a lustful grin, stealing quick glances towards students partying heartily in the distance.

Not too long after, their hurried steps brought them to seclusion— Professor Swallow's personal quarters. The door closed softly behind them while the trees outside cast eerie shadows through the windows. She looked around curiously then back at him once they were alone together in his kingdom, away from onlookers or prying eyes. "What now?" Her voice revealed hints of anxiety alongside the hunger that never left her since their first intimate encounter. A simple question, yet his heart pounded harder against his chest from anticipation. Finally finding their sanctuary, every measure of control over him seemed to slip away.

His lips met hers forcefully again and his large hands wandered over her body. The texture of her dress brushed against him like soft velvet as a new scent enveloped them both; a mixture of desire and lingering alcohol. "This," he murmured against her lips brimming in moisture. His tongue wrestled with hers aggressively, an assertion of his dominance above anything else. He tugged the straps down her shoulders while taking his wand out of his pocket to rid himself of his furry ears before tossing it on his nightstand. They were no longer necessary, his inner wolf had already captured its bunny, and now it was time to feast.

The fur-lined costume fell to pool beneath her ankles; her skin glowed under the dim light embracing the room. Panting from their heated kisses and unexpected aggression of undressing, her hands explored his chest through his shirt while biting down her moans from excitement. "You look exquisite when you're wild," he whispered huskily. His words were an offering topped by his eager actions.

With deliberate intention, the professor led her towards his bed and laid her gently but firmly down on it. His eyes never lost sight of her body as it was exposed to his gaze, every curve and dip tantalising him almost to insanity. Slowly undoing buttons of his shirt and peeling it off, his muscular chest heaved with every panting breath, trying hard not to overpower the moment. He felt excited but steered clear of rushing this. This quivering and flushed girl was a still sight to behold even after a month of sneaking glances and notes during his lessons. His pupils dilated as he devoured her delectable body and with bold decisiveness, he crawled on top of her slowly, his belt pressing against her mound.

Their breaths were ragged as much from the anticipation as from the passionately tangled tongues and fingers searching each other's skin again. His belt brushed against her sensitive flesh and she gasped, her hands flexing on his hard shoulders. "You tease," she accused him in a breathy whisper, eyes heavy-lidded from arousal but passionately filled with lust. He chuckled huskily against her soft skin, kissing along her collarbone towards her breasts, his brows knotting with tension but conveying mischief rather than aggression. "Isn't that what professors do to students who perform exceptionally well?" He questioned sarcastically while they were in a position very contrary to a classroom.

The silence that fell between them after was filled with the sloppy sounds of Professor Sallow nipping at his student. For one brief moment he paused before breaking that fleeting calm, continuing further south against her secreting desires. Forwardly, his hand dipped into the lacey underwear she donned, groaning audibly at what he found. Her insides tensed with want; he was teasing her cruelly, making her yearn for him even more under his touch. "Yes," she whined, her voice cracking due to desire. "Oh god, yes!" She squirmed, her body moving involuntarily against his caresses and pecks. Her hips rose, begging for fulfilment.

With her knees quivering, she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them tightly together to form a barrier around him. Her body arched against his touch, seeking more contact to alleviate the massive buildup of pleasure. "Sir, please," she begged, almost pleading. "Slowly, my dear sweetheart," he answered, his fingertips gliding across her sensitive point just before he struck gold, hitting the right spot that caused her legs to convulse and whimper pitifully, begging for mercy. His lips continued their descent downwards, trailing kisses along her belly button before reaching her wetness. He groaned hungrily at the sight of her aroused state through her damp panties, traces of his saliva composing a messy network around her exposed navel down to her waistband.

His warm breath fanned across her folds, teasingly brushing against her sensitive spot, sending shudders of need through her entire frame. His tongue dipped against her clothed folds, tracing along her entrance before circling her clitoris slowly, building anticipation even further. Her hands gripped his hair tightly, begging silently yet fervently for release, but he was in no hurry. He smiled against the damp lace appreciatively and lightly bit the waistband before murmuring: "It seems our dear student is already falling apart." His flirty banter only further fueled the fire of desire that raged within both of them.

Sliding off the barrier with his teeth, he inhaled sharply at the sight before him. Her fresh scent of arousal mixed with satisfaction wafted into his nostrils. He felt intoxicated yet clear-headed as his eyes locked with hers, a silent communication competing against her rhythmic panting and whimpers that echoed around them in the silence.

Finally spreading her folds apart, his lips descended onto her delicacy. Each swipe of his tongue aimed to tease every bit of ecstasy from her and her breath hitched dangerously hard. His fingers gripped onto her firm thighs firmly, perfect support for his desired task. Moving lower, he licked along her column filled with sweet nectar, letting out an appreciative sound of approval at such delightful sight laid before him; she was truly soaked beyond measure. Every movement he made, every lick and nip, threatened to overwhelm her. With her head thrashing against the pillow, she struggled to calm her wild desires as he continued his oral assault soothingly. His hands travelled and kneaded her rear impulsively, each contact delivering a spark of lust and pleasure onto her.

The professor tended to her like a rare flower, his tongue constantly roaming in figure eights on her petals while smacking his lips seductively as if savouring every second. Her hips bucked reflexively, begging for more as tiny pleas escaped from her. "Sir," she mumbled, her voice coming out shaky and weak due to desperation. "Please…" With no words he answered her pleads but continued his sweet torture around her passage. He worshipped this art piece blessed before him. Just as she tried to beg for respite or any form of satisfaction again, Professor Sallow slipped a skilled finger into her warm entrance. Slowly entering and withdrawing against the slippery walls of her sanctuary, each thrust seemed like a warning or a promise of what was to come next.

Her eyes bulged like a deer in headlights driving through a dark forest; the pleasure was immense and gripping enough to make her thighs shake and ankles tremble. The quiet room echoed with the sound of wet slapping noises, simultaneously stimulating and nerve-wracking for both parties. She cried out incoherent words, her hands gripping and curling into his brown curls. Her moans grew louder, an acoustic testimony to how close she was inching towards satisfaction against his tongue and steady finger plundering her.

He trusted her to handle more than one loose digit so he added another, rocking in tempo with the earlier one. Sucking harder on her clit made her writhe underneath him, offering another crucial sensation to pull her to the point of no return. Her chest heaved heavily against the plush covers; every gasp could have been a cry for mercy, but she didn't utter a word. The sensation of being filled by his fingers drove her wild. She bit down on her bottom lip so hard that it bled slightly but her moans became louder, her body contorting to his invading digits. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure surging through her, urging her closer to her orgasm. One hand still gripped his hair while the other slid over her chest, leaving trails of goosebumps behind while her nipples peaked from both pain and pleasure. She had never felt so exposed and invigorated before this devilish act.

His fingers danced rhythmically within her while sucking softly at her pearl until she was reduced to a panting mess. It was evident she was close, very close. Slower paced thrusts gave way to firmer ones as he signalled his intentions towards her climax, one she begged him for weeks covertly in his defence classes. The room around them seemed to disintegrate into oblivion; all that mattered was the synchronised movements of his lips and tongue on her sensitive areas, and the fingers expertly caressing her depths. Each thrust pushed against the walls of her passage, seeking every hidden corner that craved more attention.

Her body shook noticeably, becoming nearly immobile under the onslaught. Sweat trickled down her chest and between her heaving breasts, glistening in the dim light cast by the candles on the nightstand. Her eyes widened, pleading for relief but also marvelling at the skill displayed by her toned professor. The bruises and marks he left on her thighs grew slightly darker as he continued to assert his dominance without once breaking eye contact.

One more push triggered her orgasmic eruption and she screamed his title over and over, arching her back dramatically as her body tightly enveloped him. "Sir, yes, yes, prof—" Her cunt spasmed around his intruding fingers, milk-white juices coating his digits with each pulsing contraction. It was like watching a volcano erupting, the intense force of her climax shocking them both despite their preparedness. "Did you enjoy yourself, sweetheart?" he purred against her clit before teasingly licking up the trail of nectar spilling out from her well-fucked hole as he removed his fingers. Professor Sallow's chin sparkled with the pearlescent dew oozing from her, but he cleaned it off deliberately slowly with the back of his hand so as not to stir her sensibilities. With satisfaction glowing on his face, he removed his other hand from her rear and relished the sight of her waning down after her orgasm.

"I believe I did," she gasped out, panting heavily and trying hard to catch her breath. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with each inhale, a modest blush bloomed on her cheeks as her hands moved to pull him up; having him hover above her. "And I also believe, sir, you enjoyed it too."

He chuckled with a low voice, flipping his wet digits and stroking them against her bottom lip. "I can hardly refuse when it's this pleasurable, my dear." His pupils were dark, reflecting the hunger seething beneath his composed exterior. Her gaze didn't shy away from his lusty stare. Instead, it matched his, acknowledging the mutual desire they both felt. The unfinished business was obvious when he still sported an impressive bulge under his trousers. "Now what about you, sir?" she asked sultrily, testing the waters of dominance he projected onto her with a coy smile. "Are you satisfied, or would you prefer more?"

Her confidence pleasantly surprised him. It still amazed him how quickly she adapted to his world of sensuality despite her innocence. He showed approval through a smirk and answered. "Oh, I prefer more, sweetheart." He desired to find satisfaction of his own. While she managed to reach her climax early, he was still left in anticipation. He shifted himself gently above her, running the back of his pruney, wet fingers along her jaw and brought their lips together once more, tasting iron on her bottom one. The kiss bore fiery desires, paired with an urge for reciprocation. He startled her again with a sudden pinch at her nipple, enough to make her yelp but not hurt. The gasp and sting triggered another escalation of feelings within both of them. "I've missed my girls," he mumbled against her swollen lips, circling her nub with his thumb before releasing it slowly. "I've been thinking of them for weeks."

The pinch on her nipple electrocuted her senses making her squeak in surprise but also react instantly. Sucking on his lip to ease the sudden contact, she squirmed underneath him, her body aching for more. His words melted away any lingering doubts she might have harboured about him wanting her again after a painfully long month. His statement made her heart stop mid-beat for a moment. Look at them now, they were no longer teacher and student but two explorers locked in an experiment gone right— how life's strange pathways led two wounded souls to find solace in each other's arms. "Just you and me?" Her voice quivered with disbelief, wonder, and hunger.

Her honeyed words fueled his thoughts further, and without warning, he lifted his torso off hers, giving him perfect access to her wet folds again. "Always just us," he confirmed, rubbing his clothed crotch against her entrance, letting her feel its heat and jutting length. "And now," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I intend to reenact our fondest memory…"

She watched him pop the buttons of his trousers one by one, each movement a soft caress against his firm tummy. When he finally tugged down the offending fabric to reveal himself standing at full attention, she gasped anew. Her eyes widened in delight at the sight of him, larger than she remembered. The details of his veins were visible, they pulsed with every beat of his heartbeat. Her gaze lingered longer than allotted as he shifted close enough to seat his tip against her sopping entrance. A faint whimper escaped her lips, equal parts eagerness and apprehension. Her nails bit into the soft flesh of her tits. There was no turning back now.

He leaned in again, his lips brushing hers gently, offering reassurance. "Let's go back in time," he coaxed, teasing her sweat-soaked skin with feathery kisses between her throat and collarbone. His words were like time-travelling magic, instantly transporting them into a world where rules and societal boundaries had been gently breached, replaced by raw emotion and magnetism. He secured her legs around his waist before slowly guiding himself deep into her heat, inch by inch. Both gasped concurrently, the familiar sensation of connection overwhelming them both. Her walls hugged him tightly, every ridge settling him deeper, welcoming him and making him groan against her damp skin. He nipped at her neck, finding a delicious spot he knew she savoured.

"Oh, gods," she cried out unabashedly, her nails gripping into his shoulders at the fullness pressing against her core. Their eyes locked upon re-entry as if sharing a secret language only they understood; it was feverish yet possessive. Yet, he didn’t thrust, not right away. Instead, he overstuffed her, breath by breath until the room buzzed with anticipation. His gaze fell toward the veined shaft filling her pussy, a minor shake wobbled the powerful rod within her. He felt victorious. Loved. "Absolutely divine," he praised softly against the nape of her neck, "You fit me perfectly, dear." Each undulation in her cunt beneath him hinted at the pleasure he derived from her.

Then, he began thrusting rhythmically, pulling out almost completely before crashing back into her until their bodies slapped together vulgarly. Her whimpers were like music to his ears while further stroking his desire wilder. "Tighter than I remember, even," he grunted, holding back the scream that threatened with each stroke, "And wetter than—" She interrupted his words by guiding his mouth to her breast, urging him to immerse himself on her unattended nipple. Instantly his hungry mouth latched onto it making her yelp and tug him closer. As his sweetheart's tunnel clamped around him, he shivered at its caress and toured her breast lovingly although she squirmed enticingly below him. It drove him to thrust faster, needing release after weeks spent fantasising about this moment.

His words and actions set a frenzied pace within her, her grip on him tightening until fingernails dug into his scalp. A sense of power surged inside her, both stimulating and terrifying her. He was hers now and she was his. She cried out, her voice hoarse from passion, asking her question that hung on the edge of her mind. "Why me?" she wondered aloud, her fingers tangling in his hair, directing him where needed.

As he replied, he increased his tempo, harder than before, reaching towards a blissful eruption, his voice hoarse too and filled with raw need. "Because you were special, different from the others, always asking questions, looking for answers beyond the classroom walls." He hastened his pace, plunging deeper, pushing against the walls of her womb. "And when we first shared that rainy night, I saw glimmers of the woman you'd grow into: intelligent, loyal, sensual. You showed me sides of yourself no other student ever dared. I wanted you then," he admitted between heavy gasps, each word punctuated by the wet slaps of their joining. "Just like this." With their bodies locked, her eyes bore into his, half-closed under the pleasurable wave. Suddenly, she wasn't just a student or casual lover, but his equal, sharing her secrets and souls under the forbidden circumstances.

This revelation lashed the flames of desire within her, igniting new maturity in her eyes. "And I wanted you too," she confessed, moaning louder than ever. Her body quaked as he relentlessly ravished her, delving deeper, faster. His speed and strength paired with newfound vulnerability, exposed far beyond his usual facade, helplessly awakened something primal in her— she wrapped her legs around his waist tighter, meeting each forceful thrust with equal fervour. Her walls contracted around him, milking him, something both foreign and familiar. There was a level of synchronisation developing between them that surpassed mere physical desire. It felt like destiny. "So then why did we wait so long?" she panted breathlessly, teeth clenched in ecstasy. "Why not…?"

The moment suspended in mid-air, heavy with unspoken confessions and built tension. It felt both surreal and somehow… fated. His gaze clouded over, raw love painting his face as he pulled out slowly, just an inch away from plunging back in. He hesitated for the merest moment before confessing truths unshared from their pasts. He didn't need sex. He desired her, as a mere man desired his beautiful belle. "Stupid rules," he rasped out, pursing his lips into a thin line, and thrusting into her once again. "I was torn, scared, and considered my position before you." He glanced deep into her wide eyes, searching for forgiveness or acceptance. "I never thought you'd be this good. You're too good for me." A second later he slammed into her with renewed ferocity, burying himself fully as if trying to merge with her entirely. The sight of her honeyed gaze mesmerised him, she was begging eagerly for his love.

The admission left them both breathless; words spoken between breathy pants, sweaty and tangled together. Their eyes reflected an intensity that transcended simple lust or need. There was raw vulnerability and underlying passion glistening in their gaze which could only explain why they waited so long. But now here they were, making up for lost time.

"Don't say that," she gritted out, her nails scratching against his broad back. Another orgasm ticked closer like a time bomb waiting to explode, ready to obliterate all inhibitions. Despite the intensity coursing through her veins, her mind stayed sharp enough to register his confession. He grunted instantly, eyes met with hers blazing with equal passion. She felt him trembling and shuddering atop her as she pulled him even closer into a passionate embrace. "I never should've waited," she whispered fiercely, hands kneading his muscles.

Every sinew seemed to strain within him, every nerve firing each time they smacked together. "Maybe not," he agreed with a harsh laugh, sweat pearling all over his body under the orange candlelight. Even amidst the chaos, a small smile graced his face. It seemed no matter what happened between them now or later on, they'd share this secret delight together. The mounting pressure nearly exploded under his grip. She was about to crumble beneath him again, yet grasping onto his shoulders strongly, coaxing one more thrust after another. Overwhelmed by their shared passion, he let go completely, surrendering to the primal need that had been simmering within him. His hips rocked faster, harder than ever, filling her up completely and hitting her G-spot repeatedly. A particularly powerful thud caused her to arch her back further into his hold. She whined, her walls clenching around him tightly, hugging him vigorously.

As if sensing her approaching release, he slowed down momentarily, allowing their bodies to sync together perfectly. "Good girl," he groaned, little moans escaping his throat. "You are so fucking good." He loved the way she responded to him, surrendering all control; it fueled him further to push her over the edge. Pulling out abruptly, his cockhead glossed with her juices slid smoothly down her wet entrance before sliding back again. Her wetness coated him generously, inviting him deeper than before. "Please professor…" she pleaded, her voice trembling with desire, need, and perhaps even a hint of vulnerability. "I—" Her moan turned into a high-pitched squeal when he forcefully plunged fully inside her once more.

The sound resonated in his ears, hitting him like a thunderbolt. "No more Professor Sallow," he growled, claiming rightful ownership over her. "It's just Sebastian," he rasped out between heavy breaths. He pounded into her harder than ever, his member almost at its bursting point as he claimed his place within her cunt. The words seeped into her skin as his thrusts turned violent and unhinged. She was so close to climaxing, his sweaty scent and texture of his brown curls on her neck combining intensely with every wild hump. As her orgasm surged closer, Sebastian became her only concern, her saviour amidst this passionate storm. His name, unpolished and raw, came out in a hoarse moan. She could feel him losing control inside her, the pulse of his cock racing against her own heart.

With "Sebastian" replacing "professor," a higher plane of intimacy unfolded. For them both, it wasn't just about climax or release. It was about connection and loving freely without boundaries or judgement. Their eyes locked while their longing healed under moans and passionate whimpers of pleasure. "Sebastian!" She repeated, her voice ragged yet brassy. Every single syllable stirred him completely to his core, almost making him come on the spot. Each gasping breath seemed charged with meaning. Tomorrow they'd have to separate, return to their professor and student roles. But tonight? Tonight they were just him and her, unbridled and bound together.

In sync with her calls of his name, he seized her lips brutally. His kiss was desperate and fierce under mounting passion, echoing his craving for her cunt. "Take me," he panted against her lips, dousing her face with his own desperate sweat.

"Yes…" The single syllable hung between them like a gasping prayer. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, every muscle screaming at him to reach their shared climax soon.

Locked heart-to-heart and soul-to-soul, he banged into her senselessly under heated breaths. "I'm coming soon," he promised, fangs gently nipping at his bottom lip to punctuate the claim. Unable to hold back, all boundaries shattered under their urgency. He pounded even harder now, accelerating through her liquid core until there was nothing left untouched. Fire burned within his veins as she cried out "Seba-se-basti-an!" over and over. In that moment of pure surrender, forgotten boundaries felt like chains falling away. Love was free, love was his bunny burrowed beneath him. "Darling," he whispered raspingly against her lips, biting down gently where he could. "I'm close, don't make me stop," he instructed with an urgency under forgiveness; her surrendering essence would carry him through. In perfect unison, their bodies moved– hers throbbing around him, his spearing her wildly. Her cunt milked him rhythmically, fully aware of his impending release. From somewhere deep within, the memory of Halloween cloaked reality, intertwining with their present shared sinful act. She was fearless under him, a bunny blooming under her wolf's intimate embrace.

As his peak heightened, Sebastian's lips pressed into her neck. "Fucking perfect," came out hoarsely from him. His cock convulsed each time he thrust deeply, feeling rapture underpinned with passion heating his skin. "You feel so good," she gasped under searing pleasure. Her nails dug into his back harder, urging him towards completion. He revelled in her touch, her sweet walls gripping his erection— a throbbing cock quivering on the brink. "Love coming inside you," he confessed. There was no looking back now, they had arrived at the end of their forbidden adventure. "Claiming you where I belong." Every word had a hint of promises being fulfilled, consequences ignored, and exhilaration shrouding them in gold. Gripping her tighter with raw power that stirred the bedsheets, he drove into her with unmatched velocity and stamina until finding firm purchase within her depths.

Just as expected, Sebastian reacted to each of her passionate begs with a primal moan of pure bliss. His hips bucked violently, thrusting faster than thunderous drums reverberating through her core. A massive wave crashed over them both, transforming every fibre of their beings into a sprawled mess. Pulses raced throughout his member, heightening her own orgasm. His cock erupted, distributing thick, hot seed inside her womb, milking out everything he had reserved for her. In a daze, he fell on top of her, panting raggedly. Taking this momentary break, she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, savouring the feeling of their combined sweat and climax. He shifted his weight, moving slightly to rest his head on her chest, their rhythmic panting synchronising while he kept his cum wedged inside. "Prof— Sebastian," she panted between ragged breaths, her voice still husky with lust. The drums of their pounding hearts beat heavily in sync, pulsing within her ears.

Gently, Sebastian raised enough to look into her blurry, contented eyes. "Thank Merlin for Nurse Blainey," he chuckled softly against her breastbone. His ragged panting slowed but did not fully cease. Her response came in a breathy laugh, pure exhaustion mingling with bliss. "I'm glad she taught me contraceptive potions," she whispered back after a moment. With deep brown eyes holding on to her gaze, Sebastian kissed her softly. A shaky hand balanced his weight as he repeatedly kissed her temple, forehead, and finally her closed eyelids.

With a huff, he slowly withdrew from her cunt. As he slid out, her fluid along with his arousal seeped into the sheets beneath them. Staring at that mess between her thighs, he felt an odd sense of pride— the mark of his lovemaking, his passion for her seeping into every crevice; it was raw, tangible proof of a love beyond societal boundaries. "So pretty," he breathed out and let out a small chuckle before lifting his gaze back to her face painted with both contentment and embarrassment. "What did I tell you?" he asked teasingly, giving her a smile showing promise and warmth all around its edges.

Her pink lips parted, an embarrassed flush spread across her neck as she realised what he meant by 'so pretty.' But before she could comment further, his husky voice continued its flow. "You're so tight, so hot…so wet, even after I've been inside you." He trailed his thumb through their shared mess between her folds, her wetness glistening under candlelight. His words were soft yet a mischievous grin appeared between slow blinks. "I'd do it all again right now if I could," he sighed passionately, tracing loose circles on her flesh.

Unexpectedly, she shyly brought up his hand to her face, rubbing their shared mess between her lips thoughtfully before delicately tasting it on her tongue. The boldness was sudden and powerful, astonishing even him entirely. She blinked when he watched her do this, uncertainty replacing her boldness momentarily. Watching her confidence bubble up again before him took his breath away. Panting heavily from lust but still alert, Sebastian's eyes widened upon seeing her daring actions. Her tongue touched his calloused finger and he couldn't help but be mesmerised at seeing her savour him so shamelessly. "Gods help me," he whispered beneath exhales of satisfaction. The sight burned into his memory with a slow nod of admiration blossoming into his features. “You're worth the heartbreak.”

Seeing her boldness emboldened him even further. Taking advantage of her vulnerability from their passionate encounter, he leaned forward with determination. His large fingers held her chin gently while he planted small, wet kisses along her jawline and her neck, savouring every curve while he still could. Leaning closer, his heart pounded deafeningly against her soft skin. It was a bold action, but his tone wasn't shocking or forceful. Instead, it was punctuated with tender protectiveness. As she sucked on his finger, he whispered. "Tell me, love, how does that taste?" His voice was loving and nurturing as he admired his beauty squirming like a well-fed cat in his bed.

Her lips broke free from his thumb long enough to give a soft, seductive moan before she repositioned her tongue expertly around the digit again. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his finger inside her mouth. "Hmmm… Salty followed by a hint of sweetness. Like the ocean or rain." Her response surprised him. She sounded so… knowledgeable and mature. Hand still holding her chin lightly, he removed his finger. Sebastian groaned lowly, attracting her attention to shift back to him. "My turn now," he murmured against her, skimming his lips along hers. Holding her gently, he pulled her closer and locked lips with her passionately. As desired warmth flourished within this intimate encounter, Sebastian skillfully switched positions with her, reminding her of his physical strength. She laid down on him now, still leaking from their lovemaking, oozing love on his thigh.

"You're incredible," he panted against her forehead. His hands moved along delicate curves of her body until resting on her sides while he held onto her intently. As much as he wished not to let go, they had already been here for some time since leaving the Halloween festivities. "When do you have classes tomorrow?" He asked softly, showing the disappointment lurking around his words. The world outside and their schedules weren't so forgiving even after all that had happened tonight.

A sigh escaped her lips but it didn't lessen her smile for him. "Late tomorrow morning," she admitted reluctantly after taking in what he asked. Spooning against her lover, she delicately traced his collarbone while her eyes spoke volumes. She desperately didn't want to leave but time and reality came calling. He sensed the unspoken motive behind her words. "I… can't stay here tonight. I told my friends I was ill and staying in my dorm," she added softly.

Sebastian exhaled deeply, confirming her confession silently. Gently trailing his fingers down the curve of her backside and back up again, he let out a sigh of content mingled with disappointment. She was radiating warmth in more ways than one— for example, the fact that she lied to others so she could give him company. "Understandable," he said gently, yet felt a sting in his heart. He watched her eyes glimmer with suppressed emotion but her love shone through nonetheless. "Just… Please promise me one thing." She tilted her head slightly, giving him a curious expression, meeting his honeyed gaze unwaveringly.

"You're mine now," he whispered hoarsely, his usually stoic exterior briefly dissolving into raw vulnerability. "If there's anything troubling you, you tell me first, all right? You belong to me and I'm yours." His words carried new depth, practically radiating the weight behind them. In response, she leaned in closer, their faces barely an inch apart, their breaths mingling. Looking deep into his eyes, filled with sincerity and love, she nodded. "I promise, Sebastian.”

Sebastian slowly nodded against her smooth skin while still absorbing those final words from the memorable night. Swallowing hard, no mention of yearning or goodbyes passed between them. Decisively planting another soft kiss on her lips, he pledged again without any reservation. "I'll make sure to check on you during breakfast tomorrow." His gaze softened into a hidden promise, one she completely understood despite its subtlety. "We'll find ways… of reconnecting throughout every day," he whispered tenderly against her forehead. It was their private pact— love through duty and secrecy.

They rose from the bed, Sebastian helping her stand by holding her hand. He felt remarkably empty yet full at the same time, as if only half of him will stay in his quarters tonight. "I need you in that costume again," he chuckled gently but with intention. Always, after intimate passion, his professional side arose quickly, reminding him of the need for secrecy. He began assisting her dress up back into it, tugging it in place carefully, standing right behind her at every step. "Just a little more," he reached up cautiously with a crooked smile onto her face. "Can't forget your bunny ears." Her eyes admired him, a mix between gratitude and love visible while he placed her diadem on her head. Watching these final touches, she smiled at him. Their lovemaking was far from his teachings, but still just as caring and nurturing. Draping a delicate, protective arm around her shoulder, Sebastian guided her to his door. He softly opened it to reveal the safe corridor ahead of them. He gazed into her eyes down to her small smile before whispering. "Until tomorrow, sleep well." The twinkle in his eyes signalled their love still hadn't ended. Softly nudging her out first, he gave her permission to leave. “Don't forget your textbook.” With every beat that echoed through Hogwarts’ corridors beneath the crisp autumn's moon, their love grew stronger even if one had to leave behind.

With a tender hug goodbye, she stepped out, leaving behind the safety of his arms. As she disappeared down the corridor in her bunny costume, their hearts felt heavy yet content, basking in the confessions that were spilled in his sheets. The door softly shut behind him, leaving a deep silence. Sebastian let out a deep breath and leaned against the door frame. Her intoxicating scent lingered around and despite him knowing it was fleeting, he held onto it tightly, waiting for the last remnants to fade away. Gathering his composure under heavy darkness, he started getting ready to sleep alone.

In the student dormitories, her door closed firmly behind her innocently bobbing tail. Quiet footsteps echoed softly along the polished wooden floors until her bed welcomed her with a small sigh of relief. Stripping off her costume quickly, she crawled under the covers with heavy eyelids. With the scent of their shared intimacy still fresh and the warmth of Sebastian's cum nested inside her, all she could do was think about their stolen moment together.

On the other hand, Sebastian's night was lonesome but full of love and pride. The imprint of her body on his mattress brought clarity and peace, reminding him of the love that bloomed amongst the heavy panting and squelching of her body. He slept soundly, but not before whispering under his breath, "I'll find a way, my love.”

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #bark bark #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut

[emptymasks]

why does my tav look suspiciously like d from vampire hunter d? um... well i um well i. you see. it's called being incredibly picky and sensitive about character creation and not being able to make a tav in game that is a comfortable representation of yourself, and d's out there being peak gender goals and already looking like me so you just use him as your own self-insert and whoops now you ship them haha. i've commandeered d for my own nefarious purposes and no one can stop me.

also yes i chose to make d a little shorter than astarion. i can't actually find a canonical height for him in the books, he's just described as looking like a young man, so for my own headcannon (and because i'm not very tall) he's like 5'8.

i have thoughts about them under the cut

no but d's closed off emotionally but does experience emotions. and he's used to no one being accepting of half-vampires. astarion mistakes him for an elf at first, only realising he's not when he tries to bite him. getting worried and then calming down once he learns d isn't a full vampire. astarion continuing to flirt with him catches him off guard, he's not unused to people finding him beautiful but he isn't used to people being this interested, especially after learning he's a dhapmir. the feeling of not being accepted amongst vampires nor humans/elves is something they share. being on board with killing cazador, perhaps was already on a mission to kill him anyway. d is incredibly touch-starved. sometimes he doesn't want to be touched, needs quiet time, tries to show astarion it's okay to not want to be touched.

he turns down astarions suggestions of bedding him for the longest time as it is not something he indulges in… but perhaps… just this once… the few times people have tried to seduce him they've been vampires, so this, this is different, he feels as though he can trust astarion with this, with himself, and if the worst comes he knows he's stronger than astarion and can fend him off. but the more time passes, the more of himself he lets astarion see, the more they let each other see of themselves, d starts to share slivers of his past, he wants astarion to know he understands, and it… it's nice to have someone who doesn't judge him, not for what he is, but also not for what he's done. and the falling happens. and he's terrified. but so is astarion. and astarion is right that this… this feels nice. and he doesn't want to be selfish and let himself be with someone, have it interfere with his drive but he wants. and he fears that astarion will fear him, he has to confess what happens if he were to feed on a person, he urges that take hold of him, the vampire that rages inside of him. but astarion thinks, and says d can't let this full vampire that lurks control him.

and when they find cazador he convinces astarion not to ascend, that someone has to break the hold these vampires have, someone has to end the cycle of abuse and power. he could have killed cazador himself, but this is astarion's moment, and he's almost testing him, seeing if astarion is different from every vampire he's met. different from almost every vampire he's met. he thinks of meier, of his ability to find and feel love. and astarion resists, and he cries, and he kills cazador. and if he's willing, when he's more recovered, once the worms are out of their minds, they'll both become braver, both become able to voice things that they feel. and perhaps astarion will say he's proven himself a worthy ally, has he not? perhaps, since it's hard for d to give up hunting, well… perhaps they could hunt together.

#i need to practise kissing more often and just characters interacting and touching more often i wanna get better at it #also left hand creeps me out imagine he's not here. i'd much rather he be like a sort of familiar to d. #like i had the idea of him possessing a wolf rather than d's left hand and so d's just got this demon wolf who travels around with him #i think lefty would prefer getting his own body than being stuck to d all the time anyway. yes i just called him lefty. #astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #fanart #myart #mine #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #vampire hunter d

[ghxstmxchine]

Hello- This is my first time requesting smt on Tumblr but your blog has caught my attention since you write trans content so well which is sadly rare :I Anyways could you write Miguel X ftm reader who is shy about wanting to Dom Miguel for the first time (sfw with or without nsfw is fine) Thank you in advance for the masterpiece you are going to cook up

ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ

☆ ᴀ/ɴ: as a trans person, writing for other trans people is always something I'm happy to do! so glad you think I write it so well, always important to have good representation :)

☆ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ: NSFW // Miguel x ftm!reader // w.c: 1.1k // warnings: smut, dom!reader, blowjobs, dirty talk, penetration

You loved him. You loved him so much that you were scared to mess up, every action, every movement was calculated. It made for a strange relationship between the two of you, both so meticulous, tactful to your cores that made navigating your relationship feel like a game of chess.

That’s why you never brought it up to him in the bedroom. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing and scare him off, nor face rejection and just how humiliating that can be. Miguel normally took the reins, it was expected when he was the one running most things. Pushing you down on the bed and crawling on top, his hands everywhere as he guides you towards pleasure that left your whole body tingling.

You loved it so damn much, he was good and took care of your every need. But you wanted something else, you’d been given a taste and were starved for more. You wanted a go at taking charge, but that required you being forward enough to ask.

“You want to what?” Miguel asks, asking more for clarification rather than completely missing what you said. You could tell from the way his face seemed slightly red, bushy eyebrows furrowed.

“Nevermind,” you spit the words out fast, trying to take back what you had already said. Your cheeks darken with shame, a blush rising on your skin which betrays so easily your desperate attempt to play down what you had just said. God, you wanted to die on the spot. Not like he’d be nice enough to grant you mercy.

Miguel seemed equally conflicted, you couldn’t blame him as he seemed to switch between satisfied and unsure. Finally, he approaches you, large hands gently grasping your wrists so he could hold your hands. He smiles down at you, all too knowing. “No, say what you said.”

“I want…” You look everywhere but at him. You were making your message seem pretty weak. “I want to try being in charge… y’know next time. Next time we’re… in bed together..”

He snorts but it’s not condescending, much more entertained. Miguel leans in to kiss you, nipping gently at your bottom teeth with those pearly fangs of his. “Really? You think you can?”

“Y-yeah..”

“You’re not acting like you can.” Miguel replies cooly and you shift in your spot, finally looking him in the eye. Satisfaction sprawls across his face as he kisses you again, whispering softly between each peck. “So show me, gonna put me in my place or not?”

You didn’t expect it to begin so quickly, a messy makeout between the two of you following the conversation. One second the tension in the air is thick then it’s snapping, hands tangled in hair and lips smashed together. Your hands cup his jaw, pulling him down to meet you, forcing him onto your level.

Soon enough he’s sinking to his knees, mouth wet with saliva that stains your thighs as he kisses every inch of exposed skin. Miguel’s pupils are blown wide, reflecting your own flustered face in the glossiness of them. Your fingers curl in his hair, pushing his head back so he’s looking up at you, the soft gasp leaving his mouth is praise to your actions, satisfaction that you’re showing him what you can do.

Slowly, your other hand that has been cupping his jaw climbs up the side of his face, touching the soft flesh of his lips. You ghost your fingers over them, pressing against the seam of glossy lips that part so obediently. Warm surrounds your fingers, spit coating the pad of each digit as you ease his mouth open, his tongue lolling out without you even having to ask.

You press your fingers against the fangs, feeling their sharpness and how they dig into your fingertips, anymore pressure and they’d slash right though with ease. He shivers, a single movement away from the taste of your sweet blood on his tongue. He wanted it so fucking bad but you tug at his hair, the pressure on his scalp reminding him of where he is as he lets you touch his fangs. “S’pretty…”

Pushing down your pants and boxers, the cold air on your crotch and the slick staining your thighs makes you shiver. Miguel immediately melts at the sight, nearly drooling but he doesn’t move, waiting for you to do something.

“¿Vas a hacer algún movimiento o simplemente voy a mirar?”

You take in a deep breath to steady yourself, searching for what to say. Tightening the fist in his hair you pull him closer, his cheek resting against your thigh. “You can start by sucking me off.”

You don’t need to say anything else, those soft lips kissing up your thighs before he’s at your core, tongue curling as it slides through your fold. You shudder, knees shaking as he dives in to feast on you, wrapping his lips around your t-dick and hollowing his cheeks as he sucks on it. Big, rough hands grasp at your thighs, encapsulating them with ease as he tilts his head for better access, suckling at your t-dick and folds coated with sweet slick.

Every breath leaving your mouth is shuddery, you’d screw your eyes closed if it wasn’t for how gorgeous he looked on his knees, lapping so desperately at your core, praying you’d open your legs just a little more so he could slide his hot tongue into your cunt. He buries his face against the warmth between your legs, nearly trying to pull you down on his mouth as he sucks you off, eating you out like a man starved.

The hand that was once weakly grasping at his hair, simply looking for something to keep you steady tightens, no longer holding on but guiding him. There was some sort of confidence that came with guiding him, tugging his hair as you guide his mouth along your t-dick, slurping messily at the engorged clit as he laves his tongue over it. He was so messy, slick smeared on his chin and all around his mouth as you pushed his head closer, forcing him to suckle sweetly at your t-dick.

“Jus’ like that, keep suckin’ my dick, baby. You’re so messy…” You moan, pleasure boiling over as you feel your thighs tremble, cumming all over his face in a sticky mess. You pull his away, Miguel more than happy to keep lapping at your juices dripping down your thighs. “So messy, letting me cum all over your face.”

You’re pushing him against the bed soon enough, crawling on top and sliding his thick length inside you, aided by your own slick and then amount he drooled all over you. Emboldened by just how good he looked when he was on his knees, you slide your hands up his broad chest and lean in close, lips ghosting against his ear. You prop your hips up, the head of his cock the only thing left inside you.

“C’mon, start fucking me baby. Make me feel good.”

#atsv x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #male reader #trans reader #miguel o'hara x trans!reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #smut

[starwarsbean]

Love Against The Odds

Pairing: Tech x F! Reader.

Warnings: Fake Dating! Alternative Universe! Pretend Dating! Smut & Fluff! Sexual Tension! NSFW. 🫶

A/N: Hi everyone!!!! This is my first fanfiction! I decided I wanted to read more alternate universe of the bad batch. So, I took it into my own hands. This is a tech/reader series fanfic. If I make any mistakes please let me know. I hope you all enjoy reading. 18+! <3

Summary: Tech is a successful CEO of a technology company. His commitment to his work has given him success in his career. However, he is not interested in trying love. Tech neglecting the important parts of life. His brothers urge him to give it a shot, as they believe finding a romantic partner will make him happy. Tech comes up with a brilliant idea to fake date to trick his brothers.

Chapter 1

You were at your day job taking care of files you needed. You were a busy lawyer, handling multiple cases a day and juggling deadlines and meetings. You know how hardworking and organized, always striving to provide the best legal advice and representation for your clients. However, you were also valued having a good work-life balance, making time to make dinner every night and catch up on your favorite shows. Although you are focused on work, you also have a soft for romance. Reading different love novels and engaging in romance films. Your compassionate side, always making an effort to understand other people's perspectives and try to help them the best you could. You thought it’s been a while since you’ve been on a date. Remembering the last time you were out with your ex boyfriend Anakin Skywalker. He sure was a great boyfriend in the beginning. It just became to difficult when you both didn’t want to try. Both of you mutually breaking things off. The next time you go on a date it will definitely be a good time.

You decided to clear your mind back to work. You were working on a case, researching relevant laws and legal precedents, drafting briefs and petitions, and meeting with your client to discuss. You were making sure that deadlines were being met and that the case was progressing smoothly. Despite the intensity of your work, you felt fulfilled and satisfied with your role as a lawyer, enjoying the challenge of providing legal representation and helping people navigate tough situations. Realizing the time you see you have two messages from your two friends. Hera and Kanan texting you to meet them for dinner at a restaurant.

You were feeling tired but agreed to go anyway, wanting to make time for your friends and spend time socializing together. You text back saying you’ll meet them there. Before you leave the office you make sure your outfit looks decent. Your black office dress making your hips look amazing. Your breast cevlage revealing a bit. You take off your black flats and put on your black heels instead. You notice the time and hurry along. Thinking of how lucky Hera and Kanan are. They both have each other and are extremely in love. You watched them both fall in love in college. Reaching for the same textbook and their hands touching. Both of them locking eye contact with each other. It was like a scene from a romance movie. You hope one day you’re able to find a love like them.

You arrive at the restaurant. You squeal once you see them both. Hera pulling you into a hug and Kanan standing with his arms crossed. Pulling away from the hug, Kanan gives you a slight hug. Hera shakes her head at Kanan as you laugh.

“Guess somebody missed us?” Kanan said with a sly smile.

“Oh shut up! you know I always miss you both.” You say playfully rolling your eyes.

“Come on you two let’s eat. I’m starving.” Hera says walking into the restaurant.

You order your usual meal, enjoying the company of your friends. The conversation was catching up with work and spilling about the latest tv shows.

“So, Y/N has anyone caught your attention here at the restaurant?” Hera says with a smirk.

You look around the restaurant. The restaurant was filled with people your age but no one stood out to you. It was a crowd of people who just wanted a quick hook up. You turn your attention back to Hera and Kanan.

“Nope not a single person here. Nobody here is necessarily my type.” You say popping a piece of broccoli in your mouth.

“Oh Y/N you should go on a date soon! It’s been a while since you gone out. Have some fun.” Hera says looking at you.

Kanan looks at you both and laughs. Putting a piece of steak in his mouth.

“I do want to go out, but nobody here has caught my attention. If someone interesting comes to mind I’ll make a move.” You say with a smirk.

“There you go! Maybe next time you’ll get luckyyy.” Hera says laughing a bit.

“Mhmm maybe… I hope so.” You take a sip of your water while laughing a bit.

Kanan groans and shakes his head. Hera phone lights up and she rolls her eyes. Her smile drops as she texts back. Kanan looks at who Hera is messasging. He sighs and rolls his eyes. You notice the sense of annoyance.

“What happened? Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly.

“It’s just Heras boss. He’s always making her do last minute changes. Or if something isn’t perfect he makes her redo it. A pain in the ass I have to say.” Kanan says with annoyance in his voice.

“Yeah he’s a real pain the ass. He’s making my work harder, but I really want the promotion. He has high standards and high expectations of our work.” Hera says while typing a long email.

“That sounds pretty tough Hera. You can most definitely do it. Just try to keep a positive mindset on this.” You say taking a sip of your drink.

Kanan smiles at your kind response to his girlfriend and nods his head. He finishes his food and looks back at Hera who is still typing.

“Thank you Y/N. I appreciate you so much. In the email he’s asking so many questions about the dinner event I’m hosting at my place. He wants everything to be perfect.” Hera says.

“Is there a reason why” Kanan ask while raising an eyebrow.

“He just wants everything up to date. Which I understand but I have everything under control. He seriously needs to learn to trust his employees more.”

You remember how you had a boss like that. It was pretty difficult to do any work or have any sense of how to react to their control. Understandably a technology company must be hard to manage.

“Y/N are you free tomorrow night?” Hera puts her phone down and looks at you.

“Yeah, I am. Why?” You ask.

“Can you please come to my dinner event I’m hosting. I need your company and your support. I don’t know how I’ll manage being in the same room with so many people.” Hera says with pleading eyes.

“Hera, you can most definitely handle it. You’ll have me there.” Kanan says while grabbing her hand.

“I know but I really want Y/N to come. It’ll be fun. Please Y/N.” Hera says looking at you.

“Of course I’ll be there Hera.” You say.

Hera smiles at you agreeing to come to her dinner. Kanan smiles seeing Hera happy. You finish your dinner. Hera and Kanan paying the bill. You insist on paying the bill, but they beat you to it this time. You playfully roll your eyes.

“Have to be faster than that Y/N.” Kanan says with a sly smile

You laugh and shake your head. Hera grabs Kanan hand as you both walk outside the restaurant. Hera hugs you and thanks you for showing up for her tomorrow.

“I’ll be there Hera. I’ll make sure we’ll have some fun tomorrow.”

Hera tells you she will send you the details what time the dinner starts. You nod and wave bye to both of them. As you get home you pet one of your cats. Her name was Autumn. A pretty calico cat who most definitely spoiled. She purrs at your feet as you continue petting her. Making sure she has enough food and water. You eventually head to the shower and finish your routine. You lay in bed and get comfortable. Autumn comes in the room and sleeps at your feet. You smile falling asleep.

Thinking of how the dinner event was going to be like tomorrow.

#tech bad batch #the bad batch #tech x reader #tech x you #hunter bad batch #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #star wars #tbb wrecker #wrecker bad batch #clone trooper echo #tbb echo #smut #tbb fanfiction #fake dating #star wars fanfiction #tbb fanart #bad batch #bad batch fanfic #alternate universe #tbb hunter #star wars alternate universe #tech

[voidchillz]

SoLYGBM Dating Headcanons

(Since I live for this damn fanfic)

(Part 1 of the Gaster Brother Dating HCs💕 more on the way)

Sans:

- His preference is usually humans and/or women (sorry fellas) but who knows, maybe if he meets a particularly handsome and funny guy he’ll think about it

- He legitimately doesn’t know how to “feelings” at first

- But after he figures his sh-t out, from then on you got an official sweetheart on your hands

- Even if you forgive him for the cr-p he pulled, he’s still gonna be pretty guilty for it. Expect the spoiling treatment from your new bonefriend

- He likes being the reason you’re happy💕

- He does have a bit of an attachment issue. He doesn’t like being away from you too long. But at the same time he doesn’t want to seem too clingy, so good luck with that affection paralysis

- Oh and mommy issues, out the wazoo (this is canon. not up for debate)

- He loves how little you are compared to him. He’s always been the shortass of the group (people tend to stop making fun of him for it when he passes them a death glare) so it’s nice to just coddle you and wrap his arms around someone he knows he can protect

- Please tell him he’s doing a good job. Please.

- Or literally any form of verbal or physical praise

- This touch-starved, praise-denied and affection-refused puppy bear will roll over for you

- Speaking of big puppies, this guy is the prime example. He’ll happily fetch you little objects you need or run you a bath or shower, pretty much anything he can do by himself to prove his devotion

- There’s not really a single love language he chooses from. He loves physical affection, complimenting you, doing things for you, getting/making you gifts. He wants to do anything to be closer to you

- EXTREMELY protective, like close to insanely protective. And that’s not an embellishment

- Might have a tiny itty bitty thing for you calling him a “Good boy” Would never in his life admit it though… unless he was very very very drunk

- Cuddles with him are amazing, he never knows how to ask though. He thinks it sounds dumb if he says it out loud

- He likes holding you on top of him, cuddling your side and big spooning you. But the best cuddles are when you let him bury his head in your neck so he can cling onto you

- If you’re not a fan of physical touch, he’ll happily resort to other love languages. Same goes with the other types

- Rumbles softly whenever he purrs

- When this guy’s in any state of mindless euphoria, he growls like there’s no tomorrow. Yes he’s fine. Nothing’s wrong. He’s not angry or hurt in any way. Why would you think that? Just please keep doing whatever you were doing

- He makes you breakfast in the morning :)

- His will doesn’t match your physical attributes, you give him some cute puppy dog eyes and he’ll melt to your whims. As long as it’s nothing serious of course

- Unfortunately not a non-monogamous kinda guy. He wants you all to himself. That does mean you get the occasional jealous spikes, but it’s more because of his insecurities than mistrust

- If given the chance, he’ll cuddle with you for hours. So keep an eye on the time so you don’t miss anything important

- One of his absolute least favourite things is watching you cry. Whatever it’s about he wants to see that gorgeous smile again as soon as possible, and he’ll do anything to get it

Bonus

- If you tell him that you’re AroAce or on the spectrum of it, he’s going to be a little confused at first (the 20s wasn’t a great time for lgbtq representation). But he’s an accepting guy nevertheless. So don’t worry about that part. He can work into his head whatever boundaries you may need

Bone-us (see what I did there)

- When I said he’d roll over for you, that wasn’t a joke. He’ll do anything to make you feel comfortable. And if it means you feel better in control, he’s happy to take it

- He knows how vulnerable you can feel and wants you to feel relaxed, so expect a whole heaping pile of praises and body worships. He’s a sucker (👀) for making you blush

- He does actually enjoy the teasing. Not for weeks on end but just something playful he can translate as your affection

- If something ever goes wrong he makes a big deal out of it, sorry, that’s just how he works now. He’s worried you’ll associate being with him like that with pain, and that’s not even on the list of things he wants

- If he went a little rough and ended up bruising or puncturing your skin, you best believe you’re having an aftercare day after that. He won’t accept anything less

- He doesn’t usually pick favourites on body parts, he loves every inch of you without hesitation, but anything soft and plush, he’ll occasionally favour. Oh, and anything he can clearly distinguish as yours. Hair, lips, skin, hands, heartbeat. Those kinda things

- He’ll looks after you every step of the way, but I suggest you take a moment to reassure him too. Anything to calm him down after that. He’s always so worried he’ll lose his cool and break you like glass. He’s a very strong monster, and a lot bigger than you. So just letting him know he didn’t hurt you and that you enjoyed it will work. Maybe a kiss too… maybe another…? Please…?

- He starts sounding more romantic and deeply in love with you towards the end. It’s more of a baseline instinct. Something he reaches for when his head’s getting all cloudy and fuzzy

#mafiafell #ao3fic #mobfell #sooner or later you're gonna be mine #solygbm #sans #dating headcanons #headcanons #undertale aus #mafia sans #mafiafell sans #writing concepts

[fingersinsalad]

Big probably wrong ford ramble

I’ve done my first reading of The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, essentially reading just to get a feel of the plot, vibe, and characters. I’m pretty fixated on Ford. Pretty interesting, ungodly relatable. I wrote this really big sort of psychoanalysis based on what I do know (which is the first book, one scene out of book 4, the ending of the entire series, a few radio clips, and about 5 out of the 6 1981 episodes.) So we’re not working with much. I could be wrong about everything but I thought you people would find my live-blogging interesting. Mistakes may be there. This is copied from my notes app and roughly edited. Take a shot every time I say “it seems”! Spoilers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I feel like ford is gonna have some sort of touch starved/emotionally repressed, whatnot situation. I feel like this is going to tie in with the Love Me Tender. I feel as though spending 15 years on earth and missing out on so many not-earth years is gonna fuck any non-earth person up. Also, all his writing was just cut to shit it seems.

Listening to the radio show moreso solidifies his personality for me because when I first read the book, especially after seeing him in the show, it seemed like he was just jolly and whimsical with an alcohol problem. However, he may just be putting on a jolly front to get things out of people. After everything, his introduction looks to confirm that. There is a lack of self preservation at times. It seems like when he is by himself he really just does not care all that much about his own well being, as the drunken nights wandering in the streets is not something someone that cares too much about themselves does, I imagine. Back to the radio topic, I read lines far differently in the book than i heard in the radio, just in general. It wasnt because of what he said, but how he said it. I feel like the radio show solidifies that layer of interpretation.

For instance, i know this is far later, but when i read part of the 4th book and ford was talking about the guide to that woman, it sounded more like he was into her than the work. In the radio, it is clear he is more concerned about his writing. 

The lack of self preservation is most defnitely confirmed when he laughs at the world's destruction. Something about him feels like he just knows what is going to happen, and therefore everything is just an ironic joke. He could also have one big regret in his life which he feels led up to all these moments, which i would not doubt. He is not the first sad goofy alcoholic i have read about. 

I know this is not particularly deep or anything special, but those are my thought so far. I finished the book and i am going to start it over with the online version so i can read all of them at once. I really like ford and zaphods interactions, like they matter to each other. It's nice seeing ford being concerned or at least curious rather than entirely aloof as characters like him can often be

Overall I've realized there's a lot of stuff i missed or glossed over since my first reading was just to get a feel for the book. This time, knowing what is going to happen, i think more will make sense or at least be known. Despite not thinking the ford representation is the best, i really do like the show and what they did! I especially love ford and arthurs dynamic and arthurs personality in general. It's unfortunate that he didn't have much of the charm in the book, but i can understand why. He's there to keep the story going. Afterall, it is a British comedy and they are not exactly known for their debilitating sadness. Ford probably has commitment issues. Fork found in kitchen. He's so subterranean homesick alien by Radiohead.

#Ford prefect #arthur dent #zaphod beeblebrox #the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy #hitchhiker's guide #h2g2 #hhgttg #1981

[1000punks]

okay, so i think i've cracked the code

on why the girls, gays and theys all really like BG3

the short answer is the subversion of toxic gender stereotypes and the more or less relateable themes that each character has come up in game, or are implied, long answer under the cut

lots of people have been posting about individual (main and supporting) character motivations, yes but i haven't really seen any analyses based on gender and/or romance situations quite yet (please feel free to point me to them, i love discourse) as well, i am well aware that the romanceable characters are scare quotes "player-sexual" for the most part, but some elements of the gendered experience may feel more relateable to certain groups of players than others. i'm going to refrain as much as i can from making moral judgements (in terms of motivations and alignments) because all of these characters are morally complex. let's take it on a case by case basis, starting with the women in the game (minthara isn't included since i haven't done a playthrough with her as a companion yet :'D): Karlach

Karlach seems like this huge butch imo, but from what i can see she has to battle with the touch starved-ness. i guess you could make the argument here that that feeds into a stereotype about stone butches, but i think it presents a very relatable (and honest) representation of how a LOT of queer folks, especially queer non-men, deal with being touch starved. i think one thing that potentially a lot of queer women and femme-identifying folks can relate to is the fear of being "imposing" in wlw relationships. for example, i would say the fear of coming off as "creepy" or "dangerous." and inversely, the feeling of relief when you're assured that that isn't the case. the other thing that comes up, i think, with Karlach is that there's this stigma surrounding masculine women. for one, she towers over everyone else, and she's a barbarian. on the surface level, that can be extremely intimidating, obviously. but playing through her romance, understanding that she is capable of and honestly, exudes tenderness -- and the majority of which being without touching/sexuality, is just... it's really important y'all okay? Shadowheart

my personal favourite thing about Shadowheart and her storyline is that even if she appears very feminine, there is no part of the game that i can see (thus far) that has railroaded her into that stereotype. not even with the armour choices. in my file, the armour i've picked for her "end-game" level 12 armour is the shar justiciar armour she gets in the gauntlet. it's not stereotypically feminine at all. historically in video games, armour that covers everything on a woman's body (i will bring this up re: Lae'zel as well) is uhh.. really fuckin hard to find.

the other thing is while she may be very femme-coded, she doesn't necessarily use "stereotypical" seduction methods in her romance scenes. her first one is sharing wine with you and kissing, that's pretty much it, right? and if you call her beautiful, instead of acting coy, she says "i know." and thanks you for noticing. she doesn't need someone to simper over her and tell her that. she's also never shy about telling you exactly what she wants, whether in a romantic or platonic situation. picasso, i like it. Lae'zel

jesus, what can i start with here? this woman is an extremely skilled fighter, wears heavy armour, wields a fucking greatsword that's bigger than she is, all while being like, 5 feet tall. her first romance scene shows me that she is interested in sex but is primarily concerned with her own pleasure (this can be read in a positive or negative way of course: positive being she is getting hers, and negative being not concerned with her partner's pleasure). not only that but she is not interested in having kids at all, based on in-game dialogue. and like i mentioned with shadowheart, her armour (most of the gith armour options you can put her in, i would guess) are full sets of armour - minus the admittedly a little weird lack of butt coverage on most of the gith plate and half-plate that i've seen her in. uhh, yeah- wow. in a romance, it seems like she fits the "shrew" stereotype, but i argue that for lae'zel, it's more about respecting Tav than it is about swooning over them (and knowing that they're passionate). if she doesn't respect Tav, there's no way she's going to share a bed with them, never mind anything else. that to me, shows a woman who has self-respect, which isn't often something shown so strongly in a video game/media in general especially when it's written by men (which is fucking unfortunate!! i hate it!!) i think this is beaten over our heads as players most blatantly when she challenges you to a fucking duel in act 2 and then if Tav wins she boinks them right in the middle of camp. Jaheira

Jaheira is old enough to have adult children, for one. i know she's an elf, and there's some in-game dialogue that alludes to her having extended her lifespan, etc. but for argument's sake, let's say she's middle aged - she is in friggin' top physical condition. and while during the events of bg3 she is a widow, you think that's gonna stop her from meeting her goals? not only that, but her adventures didn't suddenly stop when she became a mother. there's not much of a romance element to her storyline, but she's definitely biffing off a lot of stereotypes about older women and mothers here.

the men - most of my arguments here are going to come back to the utter lack of hypermasculinity/toxic masculinity:

Wyll

he talks about dancing with you in his first romance scene, not seducing you - in fact, he shares a really chaste kiss and then is like "but now isn't the time to jump into bed, actually." he friggin blushes, because thinking about a romance with you gets him all giddy. the man dances for you. then he goddamn proposes to you like a proper gentleman. he is concerned with family. he's concerned with Karlach's well-being. he's concerned with other people's emotions, and is extremely considerate of them. he's pacted with Mizora, not some unseen super masc devil. Mizora the friggin danger femme. lastly, and i think this is really important: Wyll, regardless of a high-fantasy setting, is a black man. i am well aware that eschewing the many stereotypes of hypermasculinity in regards to black men specifically, cannot be undone with one video game, but i think it does a lot. it could do more, of course - but i feel that Larian made a wholehearted attempt with this specifically.

Minsc

the man is large and very visually "stereotypically masculine," yes, but all of his actions are either influenced by Jaheira or Boo. case closed, your honor. i'm joking. but really, Minsc respects and admires Jaheira intensely as a comrade. and what she thinks seems to matter more to him than his own motivations. that's what made it so easy for the Bhaalist assassins to manipulate him - they just had one person pose as Jaheira. boom.

Halsin

another very visually "stereotypically masculine" man, yes- but i have three things: he's open to polyamory that is represented in the game more or less in a healthy way he's very concerned with consent, both in a monogamous romance or a polyamorous one - this includes the bear scene, he does ask about it before like, barrelling into it (and no i'm not poking that bear any more than i have to in this post) uhh, have you heard him talk to/about Tav? my my. not only that but this man is quite literally built like a bear, yet he is a druid, literally about all things nature. you could make the argument that this subverts the nature/culture; emotion/reason debate as it relates to gendered roles.

Gale

okay so, not only has it been confirmed/alluded to by in-game dialogue that Gale does the cooking for the camp- (specifically by Wyll if i recall correctly), he's also just a fairly forthcoming person with his feelings and insecurities. i know a lot of people have deemed that a bit annoying, but i do think there is some value in it. for example, he is a little self-deprecating about being a bad kisser, but it's his way (especially if you read him as autistic) of saying "hey, i'm insecure about this and i usually spend a lot of time alone in a mother fucking tower in waterdeep." i.e. i don't exactly know how to do this. he's an honest, giving, and kind man, and is just as likely to show you as he is to tell you how his heart and mind function. he wants you to understand him. he's also very idealistic- that of course can be a double edged sword, but i think he comes by it honestly as well. given his background with Mystra. i shouldn't even need to mention it but the way the "with you i forget my goddess" and the "you would really prefer me as i am?" lines wrench my heart- like, okay that's very romantic but he's also (imo) accepting that he, a human man, cannot be perfect. that to me is like anti-toxic masculinity in the sense of accepting that a real relationship is where two people are equals and that it's founded in mutual respect and adoration. not unrequited love and service (especially service).

Astarion

get at me if you want, but this man is in touch with his feminine side. i would personally call him high femme, but that's a little besides the point, he sews, appreciates fashion, yada yada. the next part about him i want to discuss as delicately as possible- he's very forthcoming (once he feels relatively safe and in control of the situation at hand) with his experiences as an ab-se/SA survivor. most men do not have the space to do this, nor are they actively encouraged to share their experiences. and with that, depending on dialogue choices, he wants to cease all intimate contact and go at his own pace. not expecting men to be sexual is kind of big on its own, but given his background, i think it's especially important in his storyline. furthermore, in the spawn!romance stream, he is very explicit about moving forward with Tav as equals.

Raphael

you.. y'all. you already know what i'm going to say regarding the dialogue with Haarlep. i don't really know if i have anything to add besides reiterating that men do not have to be these perfect, virile sexual machines.

Extra Stuff

the emphasis on consent: whether it's in a romance dialogue or if it's the game warning you "you're about to do xyz, are you sure?!"

specifically consent in the romance dialogues though: there are usually 3-4 chances for you as the player to be like "actually, i don't want to do that"

queer couples (npc + npc or pc + companion) are just.. normal. once you get to the lower city you'll hear a ton of ambient dialogue where it will be like "my husband blah blah blah" and you look and it's a gnome and his dragonborn husband standing in the street

uhh, hi larian jumping on the character creator with gender neutral and gender-mixed/mixable options, way to make the player base feel seen. hearing my Tav (Festé) be referred to as "they" in dialogue without issue (especially glaring grammatical ones like i've seen in other games) was really big for me, personally.

openly trans npcs. the defense rests, your honor. okay but imagine my surprise when i hear abigail fucking thorn in a completely missable dialogue scene, where she (the character) talks openly about the fact that she is a fucking trans woman. like.

#baldur's gays #.txt #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 companions

[koi-pond-tears]

Headcanons I love even tho they go against my main beliefs for these characters

Ace/Aro bakugou. Idk why but I just. Love it. So much. Like yes lil dude be free!!! Fuck nobody!!! You never needed bitches!!!

And especially the headcanons where he's like. Absolutely clueless about love. Like Mina will ask "so bakugou what's your type?" And he just looks confused n goes "?? You mean my blood type???"

Izuku and Katsuki being brothers. Like not literal brothers by blood but they have that brotherly bond. I actually do ship dekubaku but this headcanon is still very dear to me and I think in another universe it could work.

Like it's so funny imagining them fighting the way brothers do or being mean to each other but also having each other's backs and protecting/defending the other. I love that for them

Idk why but asexual todoroki just. Wow. I love him

I feel like he would still want a romantic relationship just without the sex part. Like he's totally cool with kissing or cuddling bc cmon there is no way in HELL this boy is not absolutely touch starved.

I feel like while Ace bakugou thinks sex is gross and is repulsed by it, ace todoroki is just indifferent to it. He doesn't rlly care or have any feelings towards it. Like ok bestie go smush your peepees together while I watch the entire Beverly Hills Chihuahua franchise

As much as I love my blorbos bakudeku together I have to admit the idea of izuku being the token straight friend in a class full of the ell gee bee tees is so fucking funny to me. Like he doesn't understand the lingo and is absolutely sweating his balls off trying not to say something offensive and it's just hilarious. He accidentally uses she/her instead of they/them once and almost commits seppuku ( a japanese style of suicide which includes disembowelment)

I'm sure he includes everyone's pronouns in their description in his notebook to make sure he remembers what to use

Nonbinary jirou just. Fits. Like idk what anyone has to say about that but look me in the eye and tell me that bitch doesn't put on a binder

They're an enby and also bisexual bc I am correct about everything.

Trans kiri just works.

If deku doesn't grow up to be tall as fuck then I will literally have a meltdown

does he not look like the tall lanky nice friend that can't even say fuck??? Look me in the eye and tell me that. Do it.

Eri grows up to be really tall

Like idk where this comes from but to me she's just. Tall. Girly doesn't get you things from the top shelf she IS the top shelf

Also I personally don't like the eri x kota ship, I think it's kinda weird to be wanting these whole ass 6 year Olds to date, idk but it makes me uncomfortable

I saw a post once that said that Ochaco would be an active memelord (back when that term wasn't cringe) and oh my god. No. This bitch wouldn't know anything.

She has a fucking flip phone I doubt she has access to motherfucking twitter

I think she'd be like Izuku where she's just absolutely clueless on the lingo and slang and feels left out when her friends reference memes she's never seen before

And even if they do take the time to send her one or two she wouldn't understand it

I also saw this in a different post but tsuyu listens to asmr

Tokoyami too

I love the black Mina headcanons but I'm filipino and so starved of representation so I'll just pretend she's half pinoy but grew up in japan so she doesn't really know much of the language (you'd be surprised how many of us don't speak our native language despite living here all our lives)

Himikos eyebags come from the many long nights she spent as a villain doing literally anything else but getting a good night's sleep. Like I know in the backstory episodes we see her with the eyebags as a child, but when I first watched the show I just assumed that that was the reason she had them, and I'll stick to that till I die

Mirio is autistic. Do not argue with me I am right.

#asexual bakugou #asexual tododoki #asexual #aroace #mha #my hero academia #mha headcanons #mha hcs #headcanons #bakugou #todoroki #midoriya #uraraka #tsuyu #tokoyami #mirio togata #toga himiko #jirou kyouka

[starleska]

Beach Ken as a mint-condition boxed doll: a heartbreaking Kencanon 💔

Barbie is the kind of movie that’s going to inspire a thousand interpretations, and i wanted to play around with some of the ideas within!! don’t take this too seriously - i do think the Barbies and Kens are more like physical representations of ideas, but it’s still fun to think of them as characters 😉 spoilers for the Barbie movie below!!

so the brilliant @avatarmerida/Allisa came up with this fascinating bit of lore for Ken...that Stereotypical Barbie is not really ‘his’ Barbie, and that Beach Ken really ought to have a Beach Barbie has his counterpart. Allisa posits that Weird Barbie may well be Ken’s original Barbie, prior to her weirdification 👀 check out this behind-the-scenes picture from an apparent deleted scene:

i think this is a marvellous theory that ties up some very interesting things about Ken’s behaviour in comparison to the other Kens, and especially why the other Barbies and Kens seem to be quite comfortable with one another (even if the other Kens also felt rejected enough to follow Beach Ken on his patriarchal bender). we get a lot of Ken’s inner workings and self-loathing in a cover of a song he sings to Barbie, ‘Push’ by Matchbox 20:

'Said, I don't know if I've ever been good enough I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in And I don't know if I've ever been really loved By a hand that's touched me, and I feel like something's got to give'

here we can see that Ken’s deep-seated insecurity isn’t a recent development: he isn’t sure that he has ever been good enough. he makes references to never feeling like he’s been loved ‘by a hand that’s touched me’...this supports Allisa’s idea that Ken has never been played with, or was/is neglected in some way compared to the other Barbies and Kens in Barbieland. i wonder if the ‘rustiness’ he’s referring to is actually his capacity for intimacy. 

if we run with Allisa’s idea of Weird Barbie being Beach Ken’s Barbie, we have to ask: is Ken intellectually cognizant of ‘his’ Barbie being missing, or does he experience this void in a traumatic kind of way - a deep, sinking, emptiness in his gut? the way Ken’s jealousy manifests makes me lean towards the latter, especially with the way that the Barbies and Kens are largely ignorant of how they relate to the dolls that humans play with. here’s a related thought: isn’t it curious how Weird Barbie, the Barbie who has arguably been played with the most, is the one who knows about the human world? this connection seems consistent: the more Stereotypical Barbie was thought about/’played with’ by Gloria as an adult, the more aware she became of the human world. if we take that bit of canon and work backwards, we have to ask...what would happen to a doll who has been played with the least - or was outright neglected? let’s take a look at some more lyrics from ‘Push’:

‘Said I don't know why you ever would lie to me Cause I'm a little untrusting when I think that truth is gonna hurt you And I don't know why you couldn't just stay with me You couldn't stand to be near me When my face don't seem to wanna shine Cause I'm a little bit dirty, oh, well Don't just stand there, say nice things to me' it’s possible that not only is Ken only vaguely aware of why he’s in so much pain: he could be less aware than another Ken with a missing Barbie would be, because he has been played with the least. although the other Kens are about as insecure and dumb as you’d expect from dolls designed to be accessories, our Ken specifically seems to believe there’s something wrong with him: that Barbie hates him and that it’s down to the way he behaves or just is as a Ken. he moves from describing himself as ‘a little bit dirty’ to begging Barbie to do something, say anything that would make him feel good about himself. everything Ken does from his scary jealous-dancing to his upending of Barbieland shows off how badly he wants to be noticed. Ken isn’t just touch-starved: he’s intimacy-starved.

i don’t think this damage is interchangeable with the other Kens; as of the time of writing, it seems that Ken is unique in Barbieland for not having a Barbie as his counterpart. whether or not the other Barbies and Kens were designed to be together, or were paired together during play, it appears that our Ken is the only one without a Barbie who reciprocates his affections in some manner, or understands they are ‘supposed’ to be together. we see this in his song ‘I’m Just Ken’:

'I have feelings that I can't explain Drivin' me insane All my life been so polite But I'll sleep alone tonight Cause I'm just Ken, anywhere else I'd be a ten Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blond fragility?' those feelings that are driving him insane may not be unique to Beach Ken, but i think either the size of those feelings, or Ken’s capacity for dealing with them, is. the other Kens (notably Simu Liu’s Ken, or ‘Ken 2′) seem relatively well-adjusted (for Kens) until Ken returns with knowledge of the patriarchy. perhaps it’s because we are supposed to focus on Beach Ken’s emotions, but it does seem like our Ken has a disproportionate amount of self-loathing, anxiety, arrogance, and a desire to be loved. why is he like this compared to the other Kens? well, i think that our Ken has the wrong end of the stick. he believes that there is something wrong with him - that he is dirty, defective, or broken in some way - but it’s actually the exact opposite. i think that while his counterpart Barbie - Weird Barbie - was played with and loved a great deal, that our Ken was kept in the box, and has never been played with once. 

what would happen to a doll in Barbieland whose self-esteem and understanding of relationships hinges on the way, or how much, they’re played with? when i say i think Ken is a boxed doll, i don’t mean a collector’s item; i’m inclined to believe if he was, he would be able to feel that love the way Barbie could feel how she was played with. i think it’s more likely he’s still boxed, and was forgotten about and never opened. doesn’t it make sense that Ken has so much rage and self-hatred whilst looking physically ‘perfect’, whilst Weird Barbie is more than content despite her body being so physically altered? there’s nothing to suggest that a boxed doll couldn’t exist in Barbieland, but i wonder what that would do to a doll’s psyche...we’re having a real Toy Story moment 😭 hell, we could take this a step further! the emotionally volatile, restrictive, stunted aspects of Ken’s personality could be down to his never having been played with. this could be why our Ken is so insistent that he isn’t allowed to be on a certain part of the beach. this could be why he considers himself ‘fragile’. this could be why Beach Ken wears his emotions on his sleeve and looks visibly more upset than any of the other Kens. self-actualisation was achieved for both Stereotypical Barbie and Weird Barbie because they were thought about, played with, acknowledged...and above all else, Ken craves acknowledgement from Barbie. he ‘only has a good day if Barbie looks at him’. when Ken tells Barbie, ‘I only exist within the warmth of your gaze’...he means it 💔

that’s the idea!! i hope i’m making sense with my ramblings 🙈 fanfic authors, fanartists and theory-makers, feel free to go nuts with this silly little notion...as much as i adore how terrible and arrogant and sexy Patriarchy!Ken is, i would love to see some stuff exploring this angst and him finally getting all the love and attention he deserves 😖💖

#barbie movie spoilers #ken #gosling!ken #beach ken #barbie #barbie movie #starleskatalks #long post

[paintato]

Tato what’s your favorite like scene idea or whatever (idk how to word it im high) between Wenclair? Like mine is Wednesday being super romantic like Gomez lol

Oh boy. That’s a hard question to answer honestly. You have the ones that show the different dynamics of the two. Then the ones that show how well they fit together like puzzle pieces.

I enjoy scenes where Wednesday lets Enid into her space. Lowering the walls she’s built to keep everyone at a distance. Only to let this bubbly werewolf step all over it. Embracing the chaos that is Enid. Her own preferred method of torture.

Scenes where Wednesday taunts and teases Enid give me life. For instance the first chapter or two of “The Ghost in your videos” Enids just a bumbling mess. Her suffering is delicious.

The reverse is also enjoyable. Wednesday is touch starved all to hell. So I like to think that makes her more sensitive to touch then most people. So when Enid finally steps up to meet Wednesdays challenges she proceeds to melt like butter at Enid being the dominant one.

Scenes where Wednesday is laid back in bed maybe reading an Enid crawls into her lap arms over the girls legs head resting in her lap. Wednesdays got her big hoodie on so there’s no risk of skin contact. So it doesn’t set her on edge, it’s comfortable. Domestic. She’s a cold person, but for Enid she craves the warmth.

Enid speaking Greek to Wednesday, is a head cannon I enjoy. Especially sense it’s collectively decided Greek is a language that Wednesday doesn’t speak. So hearing Enid who she considers a pretty bumbling full speak a language fluently just crawls under her skin and makes itself at home in a nice way. The “Language Barriers” fic is a good representation of that.

I like the head cannon that Wednesday has always been obsessed with werewolves. So getting to look closely at Enids fangs and claws is a #1 priority for her sometimes. To the point where she fantasizes about Enid biting her.

Anything involving the Gomezification of Wednesday Addams. Except not as played up as Gomez. Gomez is all about grand gestures of love, kissing up the arm, physical touch, close proximity. For Wednesday it would holding Enids hand but only the pinkies. Or letting Enid hold the bottom of her shirt as they walked. Letting her braid her hair. Enids got that werewolf strength so at times when Enid really needs a pick me up she’ll just say fuck it an jump into the blondes arms, Enid loves to hold her an carey her around the dorm/apartment. It calms her more then talking sometimes. Then when it comes to words, it would be poems, love letters. Not dark and chilling like some people assume. But a honest heart put on paper type of writing. Wednesday isn’t great with emotions she shoves them down and locks away the key. Her talent lays in her understanding of words and how to weave them together. I played with this a lot in my Beauty and the Beast Fic. Using poems to shed light on the Goths mind set since hiding her feelings that she defiantly pretends not to have is the crowning achievement. She struggles to say what she feels. But when she writes the emotions it’s like watching a painter create a masterpiece.

Those are the main ones i can think of off the top of my head. I always forget anything involving questions people ask. Dx I’ll remember everything I could of said in about 4 hours.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wenclair #enid sinclair #wednesday x enid #enid x wednesday #wenclair fanfic #gomezification of wednesday #ao3 stuff

[yandere-writer-momo]

do you genuinely believe the characters to be yandere like how some of the other creators on here make the characters lgbt or furries?

I do not (since it isn’t canon). It’s how I interpret them in my head since they’re all deeply traumatized and (most likely) touch starved. But someone else may interpret them differently (they’re allowed to)

Everyone is allowed to have their own opinion on what the characters’ sexualities, representations, or behaviors can be since it is in the realm of fiction. People can make whatever they want.

I could care less with what people do with fictional characters since it’s fanfiction/ fan art on here. It’s a small fan base and people are allowed to express their love for characters however they please. I’d never judge someone for that

To each their own ✨💕

[cgetbrmj]

HI HELLO SO SORRY FOR HARRASSING YOU IN YOUR INBOX FEEL FREE TO TELL ME TO STFU WHENEVER BUT YOURE JUST THE ONLY MUTUAL THAT ACTUALLY IS INTO TBOSAS AGERE.

anyway do u have hcs on cg!Sejanus and little!coryo? I’ll probably be back stalking ur inbox to shove my hc for them in your face but I’m curious of yours and if we have any mutual ones??

peace n love and I’m sorry again for harrassing you-

hahaha never harassing me, I promise!! I adore getting messages in my inbox!! I'm also very hyped by having a mutual who is just as excited about tbosas agere as I am lol please feel free to send your hcs my way I love hearing them

ugh cg!Sejanus 😍😭 I have so much love for him - and Little Coryo is a massive guilty pleasure at this stage. I do have some hcs on them - mostly assuming this is in a littles are known verse (though I do have a couple vague fic ideas on an age regressing Coryo in a non-littles are known verse if anyone cares to hear about that)

Probably gonna put a break here because I'm probably gonna ramble about them for ages lol - this ask has been a great excuse to post hcs on them so - you're getting more than you signed up for lol!!!!!!! Sage feel free to message me that I'm doing too much haha, hoping that you won't mind the rambling but idk just lemme know if it's too much - and also if you like any of the hcs/agree with any!

Despite Coryo being the person defending Sejanus more often than not, Sejanus is so loyal to Coryo and Very protective of him, no matter the circumstances.

Early on (pre tbosas/early academy days) Sejanus is more concerned with protecting big Coryo's representation than he is with considering caregiving for Little Coryo, and totally helps to hide that Coryo is a Little from everyone.

Absolutely found out that Coryo did not have anything for Little him and absolutely immediately started sneaking him gear.

Probably tries to do it in a way that Coryo won't notice and argue against it - gives him a paci when he's practically asleep, hands him a stuffie to keep when he's already started slipping.

sneaks him bite size snacks periodically across a long time until he's confident Coryo's eaten enough to get through the rest of the day without realising Sejanus has caught on to his food problem.

(If in a verse with any kind of headspace suppressants) Sejanus refuses to let Coryo ignore/supress his headspace - will do anything for him but let him hurt himself.

Is really big on hand holding. They're going anywhere? Sejanus is interlocking their fingers immediately. Is Little Coryo much of a runner? Not at all. Is Sejanus giving him the opportunity? Nope. That boy is constantly at LEAST in eyesight of Sejanus.

LOVES playing with Coryo's blonde curls. Mostly only gets the chance when they're both half asleep already but it's such a soothing and comforting thing for Sejanus to do.

I feel like Sejanus would be the type of caregiver to give daily affirmations. Especially with how obvious it is that Coryo overthinks every moment of his life. I can see him trying to get Little Coryo to repeat positive affirmations in the morning and before bed.

I see Little Coryo as an easy crier. He's just so overwhelmed about everything and has barely processed any of it. When things don't go his way, he tends to break down easier because of that.

Not much of a tantrum thrower - but Little Coryo is Very petulant. He's pouty and fussy and whiney, and thinks he deserves anything and everything he could possibly want, and he Will be devastated if that doesn't work out (for like 5 minutes and then will absolutely have moved onto the next thing)

Little Coryo adores Tigris and definitely thinks she's the boss of everyone and that anything she says is always 100% true and never doubts it. Tigris is far too kind a soul to take advantage of this.

Little Coryo is definitely touch starved but also definitely does not realise it or believe it.

Sejanus tries to comfort him by hugging him and totally thinks he's made things worse for a second with how emotional of a response he gets from Coryo from doing it.

Coryo is extremely adamant that he's an independent big kid who doesn't really need Sejanus help with anything - right up until he's a little bit tired and sleepy and has decided that he's done with whatever he's doing, and then he's just about the clingiest thing ever and wants to steal every drop of Sejanus's attention.

Sejanus loves reading to Little Coryo - picture books, children's novels, poetry, (if Coryo is tired/little enough to allow it - touch and feel books/ anything interactive).

Coryo is either very talkative or barely verbal - Sejanus narrates his every movement though and fills in the silence most of the time

As I said - kind of used this ask as an excuse to dump some very random hcs on these two - I definitely have a lot more but that's heading into plot for some fics I'm currently working on territory sooo...

Sorry if this has been unintelligible or a nightmare to read - I am incredibly tired and basically writing this asleep haha but I loved rambling for a bit <3

#big thanks to sage once again for brightening my inbox and my day #send me your hcs and i will go into depth about why they are right i promise #a little scared to post ngl #these hcs seem vague and theres too many of them i'm so so sorry #this was heaps of fun even if they were all random bits and pieces haha #sorry if any if it is dreadfully too ooc but #i'm trying my best while being blinded by hyperfixating #though i typically pride myself on staying as true to the characters as you possibly can with agere #so if you tell me it's too ooc i will absolutely cry and fall apart #cgetbrmj #age regression #agere #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fic #fandom agere #tbosas