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#how does touching affect materials
frownyalfred · 6 months
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You know what this makes me think about? A guy as paranoid and highly trained as Batman would absolutely flip out if someone he didn’t know tried to touch him. He’s probably on alert at virtually all times for possible hits or hands reaching toward him.
But here? He’s on his comm and he doesn’t even blink when Dick reaches into his belt pockets. His belt pockets with explosives and highly dangerous materials that shouldn’t be accessible to anyone who doesn’t know how to disarm them.
Dick reaches into his belt for a sucker and Bruce just lets him. It’s such a casual display of touch that I overlooked the first time I came across this panel.
How many small touches and invasions of his space does Bruce allow from family? How big of a gift is it for him to allow those? What other ways does the Batfamily climb all over him with casual touch and affection? Did he have to learn to accept it after being relatively devoid of it for so long?
Just some morning thoughts as I wake up on cold medicine.
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sttoru · 20 days
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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.
tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.
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“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.
satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”
you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.
“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.
the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.
when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.
“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.
satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.
it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.
“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”
your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.
you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.
“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.
you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.
“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.
somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”
nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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nature things that a lot of people don't know about and weren't even taught about adequately, but they're actually really fundamental and important to know about
how rivers work. Where do they get started? how do they decide which way to flow?? what makes one river muddy and the other one clear?
[They flow downhill. Always. If a river is flowing a Way, that way is Downhill. They start with rain flowing or soaking downhill until it forms into a little trickle through a channel like a gully or drainage ditch, and the farther it flows the more other trickles flow into it from the land around it, until you have a stream, and the streams all flow downhill until they run into each other, and eventually you have a river which finally reaches the ocean. Rivers never flow FROM the ocean because the ocean is the most downhill you can possibly go. I don't think rivers usually split in two—a fork in a waterway is usually two rivers joining together.]
[On the subject of pollution, rain is usually supposed to soak slowly through the layer of leaves, roots, and dead plant material that covers most biomes. But if you tear up the plants and leave bare mud, or replace a forest with a muddy cow pasture, there's no filter, and mud and contaminants wash into the river. Just plain mud can be pollution.]
how soil works. What makes different soils different? Why are some soils good for growing a garden and others terrible? Does it need more fertilizer?
[The sand, silt, clay diagram is very simplified and only deals with one aspect of soil. Roots, soil animals, fungi, and dead plant material are all part of soil and affect its structure, making it spongy and full of holes and passages for nutrients, water, and new roots. Tilling can break hard soil, but tilling doesn't make soil light, fluffy, and permeable—disturbing the soil as little as possible, protecting it with a layer of plant material, and allowing the natural life forms of the soil develop their networks and tunnels and slowly break down the plant material layer does. This is also very simplified. Soil is COMPLICATED.]
what fungi are, and whether they are dangerous.
[fungi cannot harm you unless you eat them or unless they're growing inside your house and you're inhaling their spores in a concentrated space. There's like, one species in Japan that causes skin irritation. You can touch any other species without any harm whatsoever. *Most* of them don't harm your garden either—in fact, most plants connect their root systems to the fungal mycelium in the soil and receive nutrients from the fungus in exchange for the products of photosynthesis.]
Whether lichen harm trees
[no. They're just hanging out. But a LOT of lichen on a tree might be a sign that the tree is dying. It's not the lichen's fault though.]
What moss is??
[it's a plant, but a very simple plant that doesn't have any vessels for transporting water, so it has to live somewhere damp and soak it up like a sponge. There are hundreds of species of moss, and different species live on the side of a boulder vs. the top, or a living tree trunk vs. a fallen dead tree trunk!]
where bugs go in the winter? I straight up had a book as a kid that told me that they just die, without explaining how the species doesn't go extinct if the winter kills them all.
[Tl;dr they're usually hibernating in fallen leaves and dead wood and plant material. Some do this as eggs or larvae/caterpillars; in this case the adults do die, but their children sleep peacefully through the winter to awake in the spring. And still others hibernate as adults. This is why you don't clean up your flower beds until late spring.]
How Many plants there are
[WAY more than you think]
How ecosystems work apart from "everything is out to get everything else and take resources from other organisms."
[Competition and cooperation are both important in ecosystems! Weeds are competitive and they can choke out other plants, but they also protect the soil from erosion and harsh sunlight, keeping it moist and helping organic matter to build up. A lot of plants, when they're young, need to be sheltered by other plants that protect them from dryness, heat, and herbivores. This isn't even getting into how some plants will send nutrients to seedlings or to understory plants in a forest! Before industrial agriculture made monocultures dominant, people used and were familiar with cooperative relationships between plants a LOT more.]
The range of creatures that are pollinators, and how important the variety is.
[Bees, wasps, butterflies, moths, flies, ants, beetles, hummingbirds, and bats are all pollinators, and flowers are usually shaped and colored and scented to attract particular pollinators. Bees can't do everything, and honey bees are only one kind of bee. Red flowers and long tube shaped flowers are often for hummingbirds, pale-colored flowers that open at night need moths, and flowers that give off strong foul odors often attract flies. It gets WAY more complicated than that—sometimes a flower is only pollinated by a single species of bee or wasp or beetle.]
How many bees there are besides honey bees
[LOTS. And you've probably never seen most of them, if you don't regularly spend time around native plants! There are 140 species of longhorn bee alone, and most people haven't even heard of longhorn bees! There are well over a hundred bumble bees too! Bees come in bright, metallic green, blue, and pure gold. In the USA where I live, some of the most endangered bees are the adorable, fluffy bumble bees—the American Bumble Bee is threatened, and we have some species, like the rusty-patched bumble bee, that are critically endangered.]
[Please, please, please do not use pesticides on plants unless it is a necessity, and please do a LOT of research on the specific pesticide you are using and its effects on non-target insects. If there is any alternative, Do Not Do It. ESPECIALLY not pesticides that come in dust or powder form, ESPECIALLY in the USA, because regulations are so loose here that regular people can buy pesticides in dust form that are horribly toxic to bees.]
[How horribly toxic? A pesticide like Sevin dust will cling to the fuzz on every single bee that visits your plant—like pollen—and those bees will probably die. And in social bees, before they die, they will take the poison back to their hive (like pollen) and potentially kill the entire hive.]
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onismdaydream · 2 months
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kento nanami would be so soft, his voice gentle and smooth as he praised you, lips pressing against the column of your neck and jaw. strong hands resting on your hips, occasionally squeezing as he encouraged you.
"does that feel good, darling?" you nodded your head, eyes screwed shut and lower lip between your teeth. nanami hummed a soothing sound deep within his chest. he drews back slightly, gaze falling to the spot between your legs.
you were making such a mess on his thigh, the fabric getting darker as you dragged yourself up and down. the material of his dress slacks didn't make for the best friction, but it felt so smooth. the slick dripping from your hole only added to the easy glide of your body.
"kento, w-wanna cum." your forehead fell to his shoulder, hips moving faster and more desperate, mouth open as you panted.
nanami couldn't deny just how much you affected him, how much his cock ached from watching you chase your orgasm on his leg. the way your face scrunched in pleasure when your clit pressed against him just right, the way your breath hitched when his hand covered one of your breasts, the way your body was so warm and soft — it drove him mad. he would be satisfied making you feel good, never once asking for pleasure in return, as long as you gave him those reactions.
"i know, baby," he pressed a kiss to your temple, his palm resting on your leg so his thumb could rub at your sensitive clit. your fists gripped at his shirt, the material wrinkling under your touch, as you tried to ground yourself, orgasm building inside your stomach.
his sweet praise whispered in your ear is what pushed you over the edge, your thighs shaking from the intensity. the euphoric feeling spread through your veins like molasses, sticky and slow, drawn out.
as you catch your breath, body relaxing against his own strong frame, nanami held you through it. he wouldn't trade this for anything.
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astraystayyh · 4 months
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please fall before i fall
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jeongin x reader. best friends to lovers. they think it's unrequited love so a bit of angst. but they're just idiots. happy ending :))
summary : 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.
winter falls masterlist.
a.n. : i am very happy to finally post my first fic for the winter falls collab with my author xi hehehehhe i hope you'll enjoy this one <333 it's very light and fluffy she's the cute one!! oh and my song rec is i bet on losing dogs by mitski
One. 
Jeongin’s thumb hovers over your contact name, his rosy lip pulled tightly between his teeth. He hesitates for a few seconds before finally dialing your number. 
“What do you want?” you start which makes an incredulous snort escape his lips, a gust of powdery air materializing before his mouth from the cold. 
“How much do I have to pay you for you to come over?” 
“Ten thousand dollars. Cash,” you precise as he mouths along to what you say, already guessing what your next words would be. 
He's come to know you at an abhorrent speed these past few months; since you sat right next to him in your biology class, head buried in an oversized navy hoodie. Your perfume knocked into him like a gentle breeze— Sicilian lemon and white bouquet notes, nostalgic summer amid an unforgiven autumn. Memories of sticky fingers from molten ice cream and feet soles meeting the warm sand wafted in the air, alluring him to the kindness of a long-gone summer, you. 
That is why he talked to you at first, because you smelled nice, incredibly so. He tells you it's because he liked the pair of shoes you were wearing. 
“What if I brought you your favorite coffee?”
“Are you outside my dorm?” you squeal and he imagines you must be scrambling to get up, opening the curtains. He knows he's right as your figure materializes behind the window. “Hi,” you wave, a small giggle escaping your lips. He can't help the fond smile that draws upon his lips. 
He thinks he likes you a little. 
“Hey, please help me wrap my family’s gifts,” he pouts, waving the coffee in the air. Your order that he memorized by heart, not even meaning to, it was just natural for him to order you coffee every day, to remember your preferences as if they were his own. 
“Why are you here if we're going to your dorm anyways?” you laugh, leaning against the window. 
“Because I know I need to bribe you,” he sighs, angling his head to the side. “Are you not going to hang up and come downstairs? The coffee will grow cold.”
“I’m coming!”
An hour later, four gifts are resting beside Jeongin's figure, perfectly wrapped thanks to your skilled hands. He's lying on the warmed tiles, and you're right beside him, so close your knee brushes against his thigh now and then. 
He is keeping count, well, more so his heart, constricting in his lungs each time you touch. 
He's so aware of you, so much he's sure you’ve crawled into his skin, morphing him into nothing but a shell of you. 
Perhaps he likes you a lot. 
“You're an insane man. Who leaves gift wrapping to the last minute?”
“You're best friends with said insane man.” 
“Remind me how did that happen again?” you ask, propping your head on your elbow, and turning to the side to look at him. Jeongin has to pretend that the sight of you hovering over him doesn't affect him. That his eyes aren't drawn to your lips, heart dissolving at your feet, hoping to brush against your own. 
Please fall before I fall, he nearly pleads.
“Why are you so close,” he feigns disgust, pushing your face away with his pointer finger. 
“What? Does that fluster you?” you question, amused, bringing your face even closer to his. He scrambles away before a blush sprouts on his face, one he wouldn't be able to justify to your scrutinizing gaze. 
“As if. You're ugly,” his eyes squint, lips thinning into that particular smile he knows annoys you. He moves to the side swiftly, anticipating the shoe you throw at him.
“You're literally— remind me to never help you again, asshole.”
“I'm kidding. Thank you for today, seriously. I didn't know wrapping gifts could be this hard.” He falls back to the floor dramatically, banging his head against the tiles in the process.
“Well deserved,” you whisper. 
“I heard that.”
“Good,” you giggle, before gently massaging the spot where he has bumped his head. He purses his lips against one another, afraid of what words might escape the confines of his throat, vocal cords moving to the gentle rhythm of your touch. 
“Will you keep on being this clumsy, Innie? mm?” you muse, tone quieter. 
The nickname makes his insides churn, it is always so tender when it falls from your lips. No one has ever called him this softly before. No one has ever called his heart before you. 
He shouldn't be this clumsy with it. It is a fragile organ, akin to glass, easily breakable, so translucent— it'd be easy for anyone to peer inside and find you in it. 
“Yeah, I probably will.”
He'll stop liking you next year. He hopes. He'll try. 
Two.
Next year has come, familiar frigid winds pulling you to Jeongin’s heart, perhaps even more so than before, cementing your being into the nooks and crannies of his soul, perfectly so, as if it was destined for you alone to fill the emptiness inside him. 
Seasons have changed and yet summer remains, its essence stored safely within the notes of your perfume, it tickles his nose as you're seated on the countertop, legs swinging lazily while he scouts through his fridge. 
“Remind me why we're doing this again?”
“Because I made a bet with Yoon.”
“Your sixteen years old brother?”
“Yes.”
“You are in college.”
“I know.”
“Why are you taking it to heart?” 
“Because I have my pride,” he says solemnly, hand on his heart and you roll your eyes. 
“You literally begged at my feet fifteen minutes ago to help you.”
A year later, Jeongin stood beneath your window once again, phone brought up to his ear, hand hidden behind his back. You pick up on the first ring. 
“Look out the window,” he quickly says before you can even speak. 
“Hello, Y/n, how are you, Y/n, are you surviving with the cold—” you say sarcastically as you pull the curtains, the words dissolving in your tongue as he brings a single flower before him— you recognize its pink petals easily, Camellia, the rose of winter.
“I did not have time for coffee, but I plucked this off the sidewalk,” he offers, an amused grin on his face. “Help me bake cookies, pretty please, I'll be forever indebted to you. Forever and ever and ever and ever—”
“This is such a poor rendition of Romeo and Juliet, I'm afraid Shakespeare is suffering in his grave right now.”
“Do you think he knows of every theater play that was done to his story?” Jeongin muses.
“That's a good question actually. I hope he didn't see mine,” you shudder before your face pales. 
“You did not tell me you ever did that!”
“I'll bake your cookies and you'll never bring this up again.”
“Deal. My Juliet,” he smirks and you throw a middle finger aggressively to his face before hanging up. He shouldn't find it as endearing as he does.
“Because, my dear Y/n, this is my holiday reputation at stake. I kind of raised the bar last year with my gift wrapping.”
“You did?” you raise an eyebrow promptly at his words and he sighs, taking out the butter before leaning against the fridge.
“We did. Which is exactly why I need your help again. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if Yoon wins,” he shudders and a giggle finally escapes your lips.
The kitchen warms up at the sight of your smile.
“It's cute when you need me once in a while,” you say nonchalantly, hopping off the counter and moving to wash your hands. Jeongin freezes in his place.
“I always need you though,” he confesses quickly, swallowing the words, hoping that this way you wouldn't be able to taste the sincerity coating them, sticky honey dripping from his tongue whenever it speaks of you.
“Good thing you'll always have me then,” you beam, your words hanging into the air, oxygen suddenly harder to inhale.
“Gross,” he fakes a shiver, as his heart drops in his chest, breaks, and twists at the weight your words carry.
He'll always have you, but not in the way he wants to, your eyes would never soften at the mere mention of his name, and you won't think that a season blooms into every room he is in. He has you, but just a fragment of you, not how you have him, as a whole, heart, body, and soul. 
He's already fallen, a terrible, terrible fall.
“Will you help me or just stare off into the distance?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. He smiles bashfully, rolling his sleeves and sidling by your side to mix in the eggs, one by one, per your instructions. 
It smells nice in the kitchen, the caramelized fragrance of browned butter, sweetened by the sugar dissolving into the warm liquid. Tentative sunlight streams through the window, and it falls perfectly on Jeongin's face, highlighting his sharp features. 
Not that jeongin needs any additional light, he reminds you of spring, a flower blooming on his face each time he smiles, his dimples two youthful fountains the roots strive from, brightening his face even more. 
He tentatively glances at you as he adds the chocolate chips to the mix, only to find you staring forward. He misses the fond look on your face by a few seconds, the tinting of your features with soft hues of pink, of spring, of him. He always misses it, always misses you. 
Three.
"I can't believe you have 37 pairs of shoes but not one nice shirt.”
“It's 36, please count correctly,” Jeongin retaliates and you snort, flopping around in bed till you land on your stomach, chin propped up by your hand. Jeongin is still rummaging through his closet, head almost disappearing into the dark void of his wardrobe. 
“What do you need this for anyway?” you question, as you scroll through your phone mindlessly. Jeongin’s eerie silence causes you to look up. 
“Um. I have a date tonight.”
“Oh.” 
His words hang over the room like a heavy cloak soaked with rain, the oxygen sucked out of your lungs and ensnared within that singular gasp.
Jeongin swiftly turns around, before kneeling beside the bed, eyes brimming with a hopeless search— you are too focused on steadying your breathing to notice.
“Should I go?”
“I mean… Why are you asking me?”
“If you don't want me to, I won't,” he speaks in an overflowing sincerity, as though he'd willingly surrender the reins of his life for you to guide, should you only dare to ask. 
A breath, a pause, and he adds, “In case you'll be lonely tonight.” Your hope deflates in an instant, akin to a birthday balloon tossed into the careless hands of children. 
Pity, that's what he feels for someone who hasn't had a date in a year while he went on ones regularly. Although they never transcended beyond that first meeting, always a first date, never a second. He says none of the people he meets are his type. 
“I have a date too.” It was the truth, Suhoo had told you to meet him at the ice rink. You said you'd think about it. You knew deep down that your answer would be no, solely because he isn't Jeongin.
Perhaps it is too late for him to fall for you.  
“Really?” 
“Yeah, with Suhoo, you know, the guy in our Economics class.”
“He's nice.”
“Mm.” 
Could you lose something you never had in the first place?
“You should wear Seungmin’s white shirt.” 
“Yeah. That's what I thought too.”
“And bring them flowers. The rose of winter, maybe.” 
You had preserved the plucked flower he gave you in a vase. The pink of the petals liquefying and bleeding into the blush on Jeongin’s cheeks once he noticed. 
“That one's just for you.” 
Four. 
You're alone on the ice rink, the frigid winds assail your form, fingers numb from winter's cruel grasp. Suhoo didn't come after all, perhaps he was offended by you calling him at the last minute to confirm your date.
The chill of disappointment is more biting than the frost— you want to melt off the ice, you want your spring. You want your Jeongin. 
But he isn't yours, perhaps he will never be. He is too sought after, too captivated by the fleeting chase of someone new to spare a glance at you. 
But in this instant, you need him. You need him to hold your hands in his larger, warmer ones and get you off the ice rink. You need the sight of his familiar dimples and blooming smile. 
So, you call him. He picks up on the first ring. 
“Are you that bored on your date?” He playfully taunts, and his voice becomes a gentle breeze that stirs the emotions you struggle to contain. Tears cascade down your cheeks in an achingly familiar path. 
“I-Innie,” you hiccup, and you’re instantly met with the sound of scraping chairs against the floor, the hastening cadence of footsteps hurrying out into the street. 
“Did he do something to you?” He speaks so coldly, a tone so foreign to the warmth of your Jeongin. He shouldn't be tainted with winter too. 
“He didn't come. Can you p-please pick me up?” 
“I will. I'm coming in a bit, okay?” 
He finds you rather quickly on the ice rink, a sore thumb unmoving between the gliding bodies. He skates over to you, almost falling twice in the process. 
“You're so clumsy,” you snort as he stands before you, sobs racking through your body once more at the sight of him.
You weren't mad at Suhoo. You were heartbroken over Jeongin.
“I'll beat him up for you. I'll tell Changbin to help me too,” he smiles, hands fidgeting as they land upon your cheeks, trying their best to wipe away your tears.
“Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry, Y/n, I really can't bear it." The tears only fall harder at his words, as if he's stringing them forth with each touch of his.
“Did he do something to you?” an unknown voice startles you and you turn to your right to find a girl looking at you then at Jeongin, a frown etched on her eyebrows.
“No, I'm her friend I didn't-”
“I wasn't talking to you,” the girl cuts him off and you laugh despite you, as Jeongin’s jaw hangs open, before closing once more.
“It's not him, thank you so much though,” you smile gratefully and she nods, eyes wary as she glares at Jeongin one last time, before skating away.
“I can't believe that just happened,” He exhales, a breath tinged with bewilderment, before he delicately encircles a hand around your back. Gently, he guides your head to rest against the comforting refuge of his chest.
“What are you doing?” you mumble against his navy hoodie, the one he borrowed from you. You can still smell your perfume on him. 
“I'm comforting you.” 
“You don't like hugs.” 
“It's different when it comes to you.”
You close your eyes, allowing the tide of his warmth to envelop you like a cascade of spring petals.
“Where is your date?”
“I didn't go.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I love you. I'm tired of looking for you in other people,” he quickly says and you peel yourself away from him, feeling as if his clothes were suddenly made of fire. 
“What?” you whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“I love you,” he repeats, each word drawn out, much slower this time, his hands cradling your face, tenderly, as though holding the sun between his delicate fingers. “I'm tired of pretending you're not my summer.”
“Don't say things you don't mean,” your voice wavers. 
“I mean it. I've always loved you. You complete me in ways I didn't know were possible, and I know you only see me as a friend but-”
Your lips press against his, a culmination of aching desires that have lingered for two years. Distant laughter echoes in the background, ice cream melting onto your fingers, a soft breeze ruffling your hair, flowers blooming under the soft caress of the sun— two seasons melting sweetly into the kiss.
“You're literally so blind,” you giggle against his lips, and his smile widens, your noses brushing against one another. “I love you too, idiot.”
“You love me?”
“You're my favorite season.” 
“Don't steal my lines.”
“Hey—” he kisses you this time, the winter is long forgotten. 
Was it ever a fall if you caught him in the end?
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shooting-love-arrows · 6 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 — 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄
SYNOPSIS: 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 characters and their yandere tendencies. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 (!aged up to be a legal adult!) x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐬 x reader [platonic]; readers gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified Tw. delusion, delulu is the solulu, obsessive thoughts/behavior, possessive thoughts/behavior, witchcraft/dark magic, mention of love making, manipulations, controlling behavior, tyranny (?), concent? what is it?, stalking, worshiping, creepy behavior, creepy people, hunting, mention of m*rder, punishments, yeah… A/N: I hold Snow White close to my heart. However, as much as I adore the animated version, I find the book more interesting. So this is based on German fairy tale or folk tale, [Snow White] written by the Brothers Grimm (Jacob Ludwig Karl Grimm and Wilhelm Karl Grimm). Snow White is AGED UP!
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 who thinks of you as her first, last and only love. She, just like most women her age, believes in soulmates. It's just so...romantic.
It happens that in her opinion, you're the one. Since the moment she lays her doe like eyes on you, she just knows that your souls are tied and destined to be one.
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 fantasies about you. A lot. At first, those are innocent fantasies. Scenarios about you running around each other, playfully starting your courtship. Then your feelings shall grow deeper, the roots growing deep into your heart and so your courtship becomes more prominent and serious. Those playful touches become more affectionate. Holding a deeper meaning and reaching down into your essence of being. Then, you'll propose to her, in the most dreamy way one can imagine. Fret not, she'll (shout) say yes. Wedding preparations will follow soon after, then a grand, royal wedding itself and finally, you'll spend your first night together. Ah yes, the moment your bond will materialize in the form of a night full of passionate love making. The spiral goes on deep and each time 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 starts the imaginary movie roll over, her daydreams take a darker turn. 
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 becomes very needy for your attention. She's just so touch starved to be noticed by her object of affection that she's just about to do something to make you see her as your potential wife. She'll dress up for you, looking like a princess that she is, otherwordly beautiful and charming; make sure to sing when she knows you're near acting like a siren who is ready to catch you in her net of love; showing off her many talents especially those she knows will catch your attention and let her start a conversation with you. And every time you do talk, it's like the whole world disappears, leaving only you. You find it a little concerning with how much 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 sighs and flutters her long eyelashes. Sometimes you wonder if she even pays attention to what your saying (or worse, that you bore her), since she seems to be stuck in her head. And her eyes seemed to have that strange glint that appears only when she looks at you…
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 starts being interested in witchcraft. It is an unexpected turn but I feel like she searched for something deeper. Knowing that your soulmates (it's her opinion) just isn't enough. She must be sure. A way to truly bind you together. So…uh…like mother, like (step) daughter?
Don't get me started on what she writes in her diaries…
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𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 who commands you to be her lover. Simple as that. She doesn't wait, nor ask for your opinion in that matter. After the (not so) mysterious disappearance of her husband – the King and Snow's White father – she'll have absolute power in the Queendom. And since she's the Queen and the most entitled person around, you'll have to comply with her wishes. Otherwise, she won't hesitate to force you to via poisons and dark magic.
She'll force feed you all sorts of aphrodisiacs, make voodoo dolls either of you or someone from your surroundings and in the end reduce you to being her puppet. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 doesn't need you to think. Just look pretty (but not as her) and submit to her entirely. Be her best and most treasured accessory, hm?
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 often uses a spying mirror to stalk you. Whenever she's not busy leading the Queendom or simply desires to see you, she'll sit in her lavish chambers and command her mirror to show you. She knows it can only tell her the truth and only the truth, so additionally she'll ask all sorts of questions about you. Are you loyal to her? Do you have a family she shuld take care of? Do you have feelings for someone? If she finds out that you do have and it's not for her, the very next day a public execution is made for your crush. 
You're not safe from her wrath and mood swings either. Like mentioned before, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 isn't afraid to punish those who are against her in any way. She won't kill you but your punishments will be severe. Whipping and isolation are her way to go. Scars shall be your reminder to not cross her and loneliness borderlining to madness will thrust you right in her arms. Just like she didn't hesitate to assassinate Snow White, she'll make sure you understand your place and take your role as her lover seriously. 
She's all you need now and in the future. Your family, close friends and anyone you had connection with were taken care of. You're her loyal subject, made to worship her and serve her by giving her your never ending supply of love and affection.
She'll make you see that.
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𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 who is your devoted worshiper. He sees you as some sort of higher being, who graced this dirty Earth with your pure presence. Who has graced him and his hard life with a drop of your soothing presence. The moment you showed him some kindness, even unintentionally, he's ready to carve his heart out of his chest and be at your every beck and call.
Although he is no knight by no means, definitely lacking those virtues, he's skilled within his field of work. It means that whoever dares to bother you (even if they don't) or worse, taint you (start courting you) is automatically a threat he needs to eliminate. Just like 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 does to his prey, he'll haunt them deep in the great forest by shooting arrows at their running form. But unlike his usual ethics to make it as painless as possible to the animals, he’ll deliberately make sure to make this person suffer as much as possible. He's ruthless. 
Don't be surprised when you'll find some ‘gifts’ from him. He's a man of a few words, not a drop of romance and hardened by life. Plus his yandere tendencies. So 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 gifts tend to be…disturbing. More often than not, you'll find already prepared quarries of his. You get furs, meat and even polished antlers/horns to hand in your chambers. 
Of course, he'll remain anonymous through this whole time, because he doesn't feel worthy enough to officially make contact with you. 
In the dark of the night, when he lays in his cot, he'll pray to you. That you'll allow him, a sinner, to be by your side. He doesn't dare (but secretly wishes) to be your lover, perhaps even your...husband? Whatever you'll pick, he'll agree on anything. He's that desperate for you.
One day…one day he'll overcome his insecurities and will speak to you…
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𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 who is a lovesick puppy, ready to marry you right then and there when his eyes fell on you for the first time. He's hopeless, really. 
He's always there when you're out of the castle. Lurking just around the corner, ready to start luring you into coming with him. At first, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 offers are subtle but slowly and surely, they become bold. From promises to give you safety, stable life to making you his Queen and offering to conquer the Queendom as a wedding gift from him to you. He doesn't understand why you wouldn't want to come with him. He's the crown prince, only heir to a prosperous kingdom and a future king, ready to shower you in gold, gifts and power before you could even think of it.
He's a gifted singer and poet. He'll use that to his advantage to catch your attention, especially when you're in the castle where 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 obviously can't go. If it's possible, he'll stop his horse just under your window, hop down and that's when the performance starts. He'll sing ballads about your beauty, recites all sorts of poetry also related to love, sometimes even pray for you to come and grace him with your presence. His words are easily pouring out of his mouth in abundance. They're all about how he deeply feels towards you or about you. And he sincerely hopes they'll trap your heart.
In the dark of the night, he'll look at the portrait of you he had commissioned shortly after meeting you. Of course it didn't do your justice at all but it was just to pass the time until he'll have the real you by his side. He'll sigh dreamily at the canvas, whispering words of pure adoration for you.
His patience is running thin and the wedding day is nearing so fast...!
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✿ BONUS ✿
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐬 [platonic] who are fiercely overprotective of you. They are greedy and dangerous beings by nature. They’ve killed before and they have no problem doing that again. Especially when some pathetic excuse of a pests seemed to be lurking around their hut, where they were keeping you locked in. There are seven of them, ripped with muscles because of a daily work in the mines and without any remorse in them. The opponent stands no chance. 
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All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.
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cherubfae · 2 months
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how they cuddle || slashers x reader
With Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Billy and Stu, Art the Clown, Vincent, Bo, Lester, Sal Fisher, & Thomas Sawyer
tags: AFAB reader (not specified), cuddling, affection, rz!Mikey, art is his own warning lmao, terrifier 2 spoilers, little spoon!slashers, nightmares (Sal), comfort, poly!Ghostface, I low-key rant about art in Vin's lmao
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Michael
Exhaustion isn't something he's used to feeling so heavily in his bones. He feels the heavy weight rippling across his broad shoulders and spiraling down his spine in white hot pain. He's not a tame being, but he is a bit more docile in the months before and after Halloween. His knife doesn't thirst for blood quite as much as on the 31st.
Seeing you in your bed is a welcomed sight. Michael doesn't say much more than the soft grunt of acknowledgement as he sheds his coveralls from his dirt-caked skin. He has a lovely warm bath that loosens all the tight muscles of his lower back. You'll have his head later for leaving a ring of grime in the tub; Mikey doesn't care about that right now.
The fresh sheets are so comfortable, accepting them fully as Michael tucks his face into your side. His recently cut hair is still long enough to form a fringe curtain over his grey eyes.
Jason
Softly leans his chin to your shoulder. Depending on how far along you two are into your relationship, Jason might feel comfortable enough to have his mask removed. He's aware the material probably doesn't feel too pleasant being pressed to the side of your face or lightly digging into your skin.
His arms wind around your waist, happily sighing as he leans himself against you. Jason also doesn't mind if you switch things up and hold him in return, stroking the top of his head softly.
Brahms
If there's a way where he can wind his body around yours, Brahms will find it. He definitely likes keeping you away from all of the noise of the world, and while he's not mega happy about it, he knows you need trips into town sometimes. He likes seeing what kind of food items you bring back because the meals you make are simply delicious!
After dinner and bathing, Brahms snuggles beside you, clinging to you like you've been gone for ages. The chill of his porcelain biting into your skin as he happily huffs behind it. He's so glad to have you. <3
Billy and Stu
The pair are constantly together, if not with you, then they're almost always flanking each other's sides. The other is often not far from the first. Adding you into their duo to form a trio didn't change much of their dynamic. Instead of the two boys slinking around, they've got you as their third and final confidant.
Billy isn't the most touchy-feely person-- that's what he likes to claim. He doesn't really know how to ask for the things that he wants. He's different to Stu in the way that he's silent when you press your hand to the brunette's cheek, smiling as his eyelids flutter closed. Subconsciously leaning into your touch, chasing the feeling when you pull away.
Stu likes to be what he calls the mega spoon. It's him behind you, snuggled at your back, and with Billy pressed close to your chest still too proud to say that he enjoys being taken care of as the little spoon. You three make a nice, lovely three-person sandwich. Even when lying down, you're in the center with the boys wrapped around you like snakes. There is no them without you; you are their missing piece.
Art
This man is mostly, if not always, within your personal space. 'It's not yours, it's ours'. Art is rarely a being ever to break character or change out of his damned costume, and his hygiene is quite questionable sometimes; though he does in fact bathe and wash his suit. Just not often.
He's a man of very few words, especially when he's deep into his clown character and doing what he does best. Being immortal has its advantages, but his fight with Sienna really put him through the ringer. Art was decapitated! What a riot.
With his strength slowly returning to him, Art is always almost underfoot. In your bubble, seeing what you're doing. Snuggling up to you in a rare moment where his costume is off, leaning his head into your chest with an exhausted expression. It seemed that Pale Girl was allowing him some respite with you for a bit.
Vincent
He is a busy man, constantly sculpting and creating. His sketchbooks are filled to the absolute brim of beautiful works of art in all sorts of mediums: charcoal, graphite, watercolor, and ink. You're his muse, his favorite subject of which his art circulates. There's something so breathtaking about you, minute details that only an artist can see within people. An eternal, everlasting beauty.
Vincent is quick to jot down the rough outline of your sleeping form resting against Jonesy. He's smiling behind the wax mask, skilled fingers shading the crease of your eyelids then moving to sketch the curve of your Cupid's bow. When he felt it was finished enough for now, Vincent sets his book aside in favor of crawling into bed beside you.
His broad frame dwarfs yours as he curls his body around yours, his large hands slide beneath your sweater pressing across your tummy. Vincent really adores you, you know?
Bo
Not much of a cuddler, but if you get especially pouty about it Bo will roll his eyes and tug you to him. He can be a major asshole but he doesn't like seeing his baby upset.
He tucks you beneath his strong arm, his mechanic's hat resting on top of the back of the sofa. Waiting for you to settle down doesn't take long as you're soon drifting off with your head on his chest, focusing on his hand placed on your knee; gently stroking the skin there. His eyes begin to droop, feeling heavy. Cradling the back of your neck, Bo allows himself to drift off, too.
Lester
Long days certainly do get to him sometimes. Tiring him out something awful. He's prepared enough roadkill and deer for his brothers and you, enough to satiate any hunger for the time being until he finds time to run into the nearby town again.
Lester finds you lounging in his bed with Jonesy, Vincent must be working hard and the pup sought out attention where she could. He had no idea where Bo was or whatever the hell he was up to.
Collapsing onto the bed, Lester sighs deeply when you immediately comb your fingers through his messy short hair. He's out like a light soon after.
Sal Fisher
Poor guy has so much going on that sometimes he just wants to crash and sleep for one-thousand years. He doesn't sleep well on the best of days, plagued by frequent nightmares that not even the warmth and comfort of your sleeping form beside him can quell.
Another nightmare yanks Sal out of a fitful sleep. One that has him patting the sheets, searching for you. The heat of your skin against his hands sends a calming peace over him. He's scooping your sleeping form in his arms, his face hidden in your neck. Sal gives a weak smile as you snuggle into him. He focuses on your even breathing, allowing himself to fall asleep soon after.
Thomas
It's incredibly hot on the best of days in Duller County, the Sawyer family set up several oscillating fans that constantly work overtime without a proper functioning air conditioning unit.
Even the lackluster cool breeze and the sweltering Texan heat aren't enough to have Tommy pulling you into his lap and nuzzling his masked face into your hair.
You're much smaller than him. It gives Tommy a sense of pride knowing that he's your big, strong protector. :)
Patrick
He is such an enigma, a contradiction. Patrick isn't much of a cuddler or snuggler but he wants to play the role of being a dutiful partner. He is quick to become a jealous lover if you were to find someone else to give you attention while he's fretting over what sort of shade of cream or white Paul Allen's next business card will have.
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
A prideful, vain being such as himself would never admit how much he truly does enjoy having your curl up next to him. The warmth your body exudes is a comfort, one he finds him seeking out more and more even though your relationship is still within its earlier stages. Patrick hates that he finds himself being so undone by you, but he can't find it within himself to stop either. There's something inside of you that his fervent bloodlust can't be satisfied by.
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murdrdocs · 7 months
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SAW YOUR END. void stiles
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description. it's hard not to give into the Nogistune. he does have the face of your favorite person, after all
includes. DARK CONTENT 18+, SMUT 18+, SLIGHT DUBCON (r wants it but for safe measures), fem! reader, impact play, choking, degradation, stiles is possessed, forced impregnation, baby trapping (kinda), snowballing, reader is secretly in luv with stiles, implied that stiles is present, some angst, title from 'cherry waves' by deftones
wc: 4.5k+
→ kinktober masterlist
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He’s more intimidating up close than you would’ve thought. 
You’ve been telling yourself that if faced with the shell of your best friend, you could handle yourself. The Nogistune doesn’t fight. He plots, plans, weakens you with words alone. And you thought this was something you could control. No amount of taunts or insults or manipulation could catch you off guard. 
But you somehow forgot that while he would slowly weaken your resolve, he would be wearing the face and body and voice of your best friend. You hadn’t considered that this would make you weak in and of itself, heart already thudding loudly behind your chest when you saw those amber eyes, mouth dry when he spoke your name, hands shaking with the desire to meet him in the middle when he reached out for you. 
You find yourself to be more fragile than you thought, lip quivering and eyes welling up when his gaze hardens instead of softens. Your entire body trembling when he starts his slow torture, words perfectly chosen to hit the spots of you that will be most affected. 
He’s unpredictable, possibly completely predictable if you’d been thinking with the parts of you that excelled in reason instead of the parts that excelled in emotion. 
But his unpredictable nature leaks into his actions, his desires, as his taunts turn from ones to break you down to ones that are designed to have you as putty in his hands. Promises to give you your deepest desires, ones you were previously sure that no one other than yourself and your diary knew. Claims that he could fulfill your wishes if you would just give in. 
It all sounds too good to be true, too simple and sweet and perfect. But again, rationale isn’t your strong suit at this point, so you’re standing before him, chest pressed to his, sooner than you realize it. 
Heads tilted, lips closing in on the others, tips of noses brushing until they poke at the others cheek as lips finally press together. 
Chapped pillows against moisturized, teeth clacking and spit swapping. It’s easy for you to forget that this is a trick, that this is all an elaborate scheme, while he kisses you like he wants it. 
The Nogitsune kisses you as if he’s trying to actually devour you. He sucks your saliva up as it pools between your mouths, he licks around your mouth and tongues at your bones, his hands claw at your body to pull you tighter and closer to him until you can feel the muscle tone of Stiles’ body. 
The grip he has on your waist –– slightly conservative as he almost refuses to venture down to your lower back –– has you stumbling, leaving your hands with nowhere else to go other than Stiles’ shirt. 
Stiles has worn this shirt many times before, the cotton relaxed around his muscles. But in the short time that the Nogistune has been present in it, it’s become distressed, tiny tears in both of the shoulders, the color a little dull from what you can tell. 
The tears in the fabric have your hands pressing against Stiles’ bare skin while they fumble along the material. You flinch at the first press, surprised at just how chilled his skin is. 
In comparison, you feel like you’re on fire. 
Your body burns where he touches you, yet the parts his form doesn’t reach is unbearably cold, similar to his own body. You need him everywhere and nowhere all at once. You want what he can give you and resent the idea simultaneously. 
Two wars raging in your mind, knocking around your head until you have a pressure and a fog that demands your attention. 
Instead, you focus on reality. 
You focus on the bulge that presses against denim to reach you. You focus on the thigh coming between yours. You focus on the damp feeling in your shorts, pressed warmly against your cunt. 
Stiles’ thigh presses against your center and you sigh contentedly, eyebrows relaxing from their cinched position as you subtly start to submit in the Nogitsune’s hold. He breathes in when you breathe out, taking in every breath that you let out like you’re feeding them to him. He groans when you groan, echoing you. 
You’re lost in his movements, trying to decipher why he does what he does while also trying to enjoy the feeling, creating too much for your head to handle, and suddenly –– without realizing it –– you’re walking backwards, legs bumping into your bed, knees bending and body falling back to thud against the mattress. 
The Nogistune doesn’t follow you. Instead, he stands at the edge, looking down at you. His eyes are dark and empty as they stare at your body from head to toe. Suddenly, you’re self conscious about his opinion, your tiny brain convincing you that the opinion of the Nogistune correlates to that of Stiles. You shrink in on yourself, legs glued together at the knee, drawing up to your chest as you attempt to hide. 
The Nogistune isn’t having it. 
He tuts, the bed dipping at the end under his weight as he kneels. Two rough and large hands find your bare knees and you shiver, both thankful and regretful that you’d decided on your smallest pair of shorts for the night as you’d previously been completely unaware and unable to guess that your night would take a turn like this. 
“Don’t hide from me.” It’s an order, one you wouldn’t dream of disobeying, fear of what would happen if you did preventing you from doing so. Either way, he’s spreading your legs open himself as he says it until they’re wide enough to welcome him in. 
He takes your forced spread as an invitation from you, shuffling forward until he’s completely situated between your legs. The Nogitsune’s hands press into the pillow beneath you, strong forearms belonging to Stiles caging you in. He stares down at you, analyzing your reaction as he slots one thigh between both of yours, the other resting on the outside of your left leg. 
“Pretty little thing like you,” he says, head tilting as his analyzing gaze shifts to one that resembles amazement. Wonder, even. 
“Innocent. An angel. Would never hurt a fly.” He’s spitting the words out now as if he doesn’t believe them. 
His eyes narrow, glazing over as if he’s not paying attention to you anymore, and then he blinks and you’re the main focus once more. “That’s what he’s telling me. He’s trying to get out, you know. Trying to convince me to stop. He’s begging.” He takes a second, eyes calculating as he watches you for a reaction. 
You think you don’t give him one, but there’s one hidden in the minute shifts of your features. 
“But you don’t want that, do you?” He comes to a conclusion. “You don’t want me to stop. If you did, you wouldn’t be humping my leg like a bitch in heat.” And you are, your hips having a mind of their own as they push and pull against the material on his legs.
You hadn’t even noticed it was happening, too busy taking in his words as if they’re a form of hypnosis. Maybe they were, because it’s not until he points out your mindless hip movements that you’re fully aware of them, hands clutching at the Nogitsune’s sides as you start to pleasure yourself. 
”Want me to please you?” His voice is sickly sweet, a teasing pout on his lips, his eyes faux soft and his thick eyebrows lifted. You know he’s mocking you, it’s evident in his voice and face. But you’re already submitting, wanting just that, and telling him with a sincere nod. “Yeah?” He shouldn’t sound as hot as he does, and you shouldn’t be as horny as you are. But at this point, you’re pushing aside nearly all of your morals, deciding instead to completely give in. 
“Yes. Please, Void.” 
His face twists into one of surprise at the nickname. “Is that what you all call me? ‘Void’.” You stop, fearing you’d angered the usually cool headed Nogisgune. Until he smiles, slight but enough to be seen, and his hands slide down to your cunt.
“Is that what you’ll call me when I bring you to completion?” 
Another nod from you, your hips starting to squirm with impatience. You’re not above begging, as you’ve proven time and time again tonight, but there’s no need. 
Void slides his hand down to the waistband of your shorts, separating the elastic from your skin enough to slide his hand beneath the thin layer. 
You’re not wearing any panties, something about minimal layers being good for vaginal health. In reality, few layers is best for easy access, proven with the way Void easily slides two fingers through your slit, pushing your lips apart to let you feel the cool air against your center. 
Goosebumps raise along your skin, your bedroom suddenly colder than it was before. 
“So fucking wet.” His words are nothing but an observation, he’s quite frankly pointing out the obvious. There’s no hidden meanings or underlying intentions woven between the syllables. It’s straightforward. 
And that’s probably why you’re so embarrassed about it. 
You try to close your legs, shy away from Void, but of course he doesn’t let you. 
He uses his free hand to push your knees apart, holding one of them down while his occupied hand flexes as he slides his two fingers down to tease your entrance. 
“You can’t hide from me, sweet thing. You know that, don’t you?” This is full of a double meaning. You feel the weight of the words as you start to surrender even more, body weighted into the mattress while Void slides Stiles’ middle finger into your fluttering walls. 
There’s barely any reaction, not much of a stretch nor enough stimulation to give you much. So Void adds a second, pushing your walls apart while he inserts. 
You hiss, hands instinctively going down to wrap around Void’s wrist. He doesn’t swat your hands away. He lets you wrap your fingers around his wrist, and his eyebrows raise as he waits for you to make a move. 
You don’t. 
Your hand limply sits curled around a slender wrist, not tight enough to really do anything at all. 
Void continues his slow torture, setting a pace for his fingers that leaves so much to the imagination. 
What would it be like faster? Could you hear the squelch that way? Do you want it faster? Since that would inevitably bring you to the end at a speed that would easily have you unfulfilled and desiring more. 
There’s not much room to think more, however, when Void starts lowering himself, eyes trained on yours while his head steadily moves down. 
When he’s above your navel, he presses a kiss right below it, and then his other hand digs into the elastic of your shorts to pull them down. You’re left bare, open, save for Void’s fingers momentarily filling you up. 
“Do you taste as good as you look? Hm?” he asks you, voice low and teasing. Completely unaware of the answer, you choose to not answer at all. But Void is determined, pulling his fingers out of you and floating them over to your mouth. 
Your lips part easily, without any verbal prompting from him. He slips the digits in, and lets you suck, dark eyes trained on your mouth while you clean the pale skin. 
His eyebrows raise to prompt you to answer his question. 
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” It’s snarky, but spoken like you’ve said the sweetest, most innocent thing in the world, words almost dainty as they saunter out in a single file line from your lips. 
He hums, eyes squinting as his lips raise in something that looks like admiration. “Got a mouth on you.” 
And then his hands are holding your thighs open as he slots his face between your legs. 
The first lick is slow, his tongue flat as he confidently traces it from just above your asshole to just above your clit. 
You gasp, not expecting that wide of a trail, and then you melt. 
Void’s fingers presses into your thighs as he situates them over his shoulders, giving him the perfect position to devour. 
Which, he does. 
You don’t know how you expected a dark spirit with thousands of years of age over you to give head, but any expectation you would have had wouldn’t have been nearly as good as it is. 
None of the previous ‘best head you’ve ever had’ exists in this room. In this space. In this moment. No conscious thoughts about the possible repercussions you’ll face from finally having Stiles’ head between your thighs, but in the most unconventional way. Nothing exists outside of Stiles’ mouth on your cunt, Void driving his actions as pleasure that knocks the breath out of you is introduced to your system. 
Your eyes stick to the ceiling, or they close, fear that if you look down you’ll either cum too fast and cease the best moment of your life, or you’ll be wracked with guilt when poised with Stiles’ eyes peering up at you. 
But of course, Void won’t let you off that easily. 
His command to look at him is so strong that you don’t even consider disobeying it. Instead, you stare down at him, eyes finding his like opposite ends of a magnet. You prepare for that guilt to make you physically sick. You prepare to get uncomfortably turned off and recoil in on yourself instead of spreading your legs wider for Void. 
It doesn’t come. 
Instead, you feel weirdly comforted, back arching further and your hand confidently coming down to thread through Stiles’ waves, the dark hair beginning to stick to his forehead with the physical exertion. 
Void pulls Stiles’ lips from your center, rosy-pink glistening before he licks them clean. You notice Stiles’ cheeks are turning a similar color and it’s then that something switches in your head. 
Suddenly, you see Stiles instead of the Nogistune. It doesn’t help when you’re sent a smile that feels soft and familiar. 
You’re pushed out of your daze by the grate of his voice. 
“I bet you’re pretending I’m him, aren’t you?” 
He licks up your cunt once more, another long stripe that collects your pooled arousal just before he sucks at your clit. 
“Wanna scream his name while I make you cum? Hm?” It’s wrong, but you do. 
You nod, the movement small and shy as you wiggle your hips to demand attention. He gives in, pressing his lips back to your sensitive nerve endings. You start to chase your orgasm, grinding your hips against Void’s face as you begin to imagine it’s Stiles between your legs instead. It’s easy to do, especially when his face is shoved in your pussy. 
Stiles’ name falls from your lips with a stutter at first, unsure from your tongue as you test it. Void shakes his head. “Say it like you mean it,” he tells you before diving back in. 
He bares his teeth and nips on the bud, giving way for the name of the face he wears to push from your chest with more assurance this time. 
It’s the same name you moan when Void pushes you over the edge with his mouth alone.
With the post orgasm haze over your mind, bleeding into your body, it’s easier for you to see Stiles more than the Nogitsune. 
His face relaxed, the light in your room brightening his dark eyes. His lips pink and swollen and glistening, spreading into a satisfied smile as your breathing starts to level out.
Logic attempts to remind you that no matter how similar they look, this isn’t Stiles. But when Void softens his eyes, his hands shake a little at your side, and his smile lacks cockiness, it’s easier than it should be for you to forget. It’s easy for you to look past the pale skin and purple under eyes and messier-than-it-should-be hair and instead see your best friend. The guy you’ve been pining after since middle school.
“You’re prettier than you know.” Void presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh, close to the junction of your pelvis and limb. The action shoves you back to reality, putting you in that post-orgasmic euphoric haze.  
“Too pretty for him.” Another kiss. “Should keep you close to me, shouldn’t I?” 
Maybe there’s something else affecting you other than your post-orgasm haze, because the thought starts to sound not so bad. You try to nod, but your body is heavy. You’re tired, but your body wants more. 
Shamelessly, you start to grind, a pathetic attempt of receiving friction from perhaps the air, since that’s the only thing you’re getting. You feel drunk, confused, and incredibly horny.
A frustrated groan falls from your lips, Void replying in a chuckle. 
“What? You want more?” 
You muster your strength to nod, and you can’t see it, but you look like the prettiest fucked out thing. 
Hair messy atop your head, lips swollen and slick and pouty, eyes glazed over and it looks like you’ll cry if Void turns down your advances. He briefly considers doing so, just to fuck with you, see what you’re like at your weakest, but he figures there’s another way to get you to that point. 
Void’s hand slides up your torso, palm wide and calluses rough against your soft body. He rises as he does so, hand cupping your jaw, face hovering over yours as he brings your attention solely to him. You blink dumbly, waiting for his next move. 
“You know I’m gonna need something from you, too, baby, right? And not just those pretty sounds you make when you cum.” You stare at him, feeling like it’s all you've been doing this entire encounter. But there are no words, nothing for you to say to him. 
You lick your lips and it takes longer than it should for a response to form in your head, each word appearing one at a time. “What … do you need?” 
He kisses the side of your neck and then his hand slides down to rest over the area. You stay still, breath sitting in your chest, unmoving. 
He sucks in a breath himself, as if he’s taunting you with how relaxed and unphased he is. Suddenly, you begin to feel like trapped prey. 
“I need to hurt you, honey.” He tilts his head, eyes scanning over your body, calculating. “Not a lot, just enough to feed myself.” His grip on your throat seems to get tighter, more secure. “That’s okay, right?” 
You’re dumb. So fucking dumb and clueless and desperate. 
Because you’re nodding, hand pathetically circling Stiles’ wrist when pressure is applied to the sides of your throat. 
“That’s a good girl.” He kisses your forehead, and then your cheek is struck. 
You gasp, the sound is an instinct from your body. It forces you to breathe, and the airflow combined with the sting from your cheek feels good. You wonder if they’ll be a mark tomorrow, and the thought excites you instead of worries you. 
You don’t consider the lie you’ll have to tell Scott or Lydia. You don’t think about how you’ll potentially feel looking in the mirror in the morning. All you think about is how you want Void to do it again. 
Especially when he looks like this while he does it: Veins along his arms and neck turning black as he seemingly takes the pain, not away like Scott can, but as Void takes your pain he adds to it. Multiplies it, even. 
It’s not filled with gloom, nor despair, but there’s something heavy that feels vaguely uncomfortable from the lack of attention, like an itch that needs to be scratched. 
You need more. 
Void seems to sense this. 
“On all fours,” he instructs you, hand leaving your neck to allow you to do as told. 
There’s the sound of shuffling, not just from you. Metal against metal, fabric against fabric. More shuffling, the added weight against the bed is gone, and then hands are pulling you back towards the edge. 
There’s barely any wait, any anticipation, before your walls are forcibly stretched. 
You wish you could see it, maybe if you were doing it in missionary, but beggars truly can’t be choosers and you’re perfectly fine with taking what you can get. 
Void is at least a few inches deep before you consider the option of protection. You bring it up to him, glancing over your shoulder and your voice wobbling as you say it. 
Void tuts as if he’s disappointed, shaking his head. 
“You don’t want his babies?” He speaks through a pout, the epitome of condescending. “Don’t want to be the whore with her crush’s seed festering in her womb? ‘Cause I think you do.” 
His hand presses flat against the middle of your back, pressing you down into the mattress, leaving you with your ass up. 
Void bottoms out completely, a hiss sounding through your teeth as you try to adjust as quickly as you can. 
He doesn’t give you much grace, instantly setting a pace that has you gasping, pornographic sounds slipping from between your lips. It’s nearly exactly as you’d imagined it, loud with the squelches of you and Void combining in the purest way possible. But it’s dirty, fast and lacking any neatness or grace. 
He fucks you just as you expected from him: Mercilessly, with little to no concern for how you feel. 
As if to emphasize this, he spanks you, the clap loud to the point where it seems fake. But the sting left behind on your left ass cheek begs to differ. 
It’s not long before his thrusts become erratic, most likely from the build up of the entire ordeal. A lack of rhythm becomes present as he fucks you harder, with more intention behind each aggressive snap of his hips into yours. You’re sent further and further into the mattress as he does so, your lips pressing against your definitely sodden sheets. You attempt to maneuver your head to where he can hear you, a plea for him to cum anywhere but inside of you desperately climbing up your throat. 
But it gets stuck behind your mouth. Void’s hand presses into the back of your head, forcing your face into the sheets, and just when you feel as if you can’t breathe, his hand wraps around your throat and he pulls you up, your back against his chest. 
His chin sits on your shoulder, his lips brush your earlobe as he speaks. 
“Gonna cum in you, yeah? Fill you with little Nogitsune babies. Be a lot better than the little weaklings he would give you. Bet you would look so pretty carrying my kids. Tits all swollen,” his free hand circles around your waist at this point, climbing up to pinch an already sensitive nipple between his pointer and thumb. 
You hiss, attempting to recoil away from the clamp. There’s nowhere for you to go, completely closed in by Void in all places. He’s still in you, rock hard and hot and fucking up into your walls with a depth that stings, his tip not too far from your cervix. His body is around you, arms circled around you, hands at your neck and stomach, pressing you back against him. 
You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. And with another orgasm brewing low in your belly, you want the opposite. It’s hard to admit, and it’s not like you will ever admit it, but you have the sudden craving for Void to fill you up. 
You whine, pretending to be disinterested by the thought he puts in your head. But Void continues speaking, voice heavy and a little slurred as he continues to take the pain he’s inducing. 
“Feel so good around me. It’s like this is how it was supposed to be. You and him. Maybe you two were made for each other.” He chuckles cruelly, almost taunting you with the idea. You have to bite back a sob because that sounds so nice, but it seems impossible after this. 
You can’t imagine Stiles ever wanting to be with you after this. 
“He wants that, too, you know. But ‘s not gonna happen when I’m here.” He kisses your cheek, and it would be romantic in any other situation. 
You can’t even consider the idea of romance when Void’s hand squeezes at your throat and his voice drops a few octaves as he tells you: “You’re mine.” 
His hand slides from your tit to between your thighs, two fingers circling your clit rapidly, meant to send you over the edge. You do so a few moments later, satisfied that he hadn't made you beg while your body completely relaxes until you let out a sound that is practically inhuman. 
It’s a mix between a growl and a moan and a sob. You sound like a wounded animal. And while Void cums in you, you feel like one too. 
He lets you go, allowing you to collapse face first into your bed. 
Both of you are still for a moment, Void's heavy body atop of yours as you both lay limply on your mattress. Of course, he moves first, separating from you and letting you lay there in silence.
There’s no tranquility, no comfort, just thick silence. 
You’re spent, fucked out as you attempt to catch your breath. 
It’s almost impossible to do so when Void lifts your hips a little and then presses his tongue flat against your entrance. You gasp, experiencing too much too soon, and again attempt to thrash away. He holds you still, strong hands holding you up as his lips pucker around your hole. He sucks, and it becomes clear to you that he’s retrieving his own cum from inside of you. 
When he’s finished, he flips you over and goes to your mouth, and it’s shameful that you still don’t have to be asked to open. You do it automatically, lips parting as Void presses his to yours. The swap is disgusting, both in taste and texture, but you lose yourself in the messiness of the kiss. 
By the time Void pulls away, there’s drool and cum from both of you sliding down your chin. He smiles at the sight, gently tapping your cheek before doing the same with a much harder slap on your abused cunt. 
This time, you don’t recoil, or writhe away, or even make a sound. You’re completely submissive, the only indicator of the pain being the way your stomach flexes.
Void grins, satisfied with how he’s made you. You expect more from him. You’re expecting him to tug his dick back up, so you’re sat watching him dumbly as he mechanically redresses.
You don’t move, too tired to do so, just blinking languidly while pale skin is recovered.
Just before Void leaves, he tells you: “I’m not done with you.”
And it’s both a threat and a promise. One you hope he keeps.
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pix3lplays · 3 months
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While I can totally see the toxic side of a relationship with Aventurine, I'm so down bad and soft for him and in love with him that I want him endlessly happy so may I interest you in the healthy version of dating Aventurine...? 👀
I haven't seen anything of him past the conversation he has with Ratio in his hotel room but I HAVE had him spinning around in my head since his very first leaks so I have too many thoughts about him unfortunately.........
I feel like his main love language is physical touch. I can see him having all the love languages tbh but his main feels like physical touch. He just feels like such a physically affectionate person who'd wanna drape himself all over his partner or the other way around. But considering how shit his social life and life in general is, he most definitely hasn't had physical affection reciprocated like. Ever.
So a partner who initiates physical affection with him even prior to establishing a relationship would destroy him methinks. Thanking him for something and then you jump into his arms to hug him tightly... When's the last time he's been hugged? Especially in such an affectionate manner??? Never!!!!!! His brain would shut down, he wouldn't process that he should hug back and when he does it's too late, you've pulled back and he already misses the warmth.
A partner who holds his hand?? ESPECIALLY in public??? It's clear nobody likes him and his reputation precedes him and everybody is space racist to him, so a partner who's unafraid to show him off like he's the greatest prize they could have would also destroy him methinks. He'd definitely adore PDA, but again, single and sad lol. So if his partner is down for PDA, Aventurine is the happiest bc he gets to indulge in his partners affections 24/7 AND ALSO SHOW THEM OFF?? flex that even someone like him could be loved??? Absolutely!!! Your designated seat is always his lap and he always has an arm around your waist or your shoulders and he will always shamelessly kiss you anytime he wants and you return all of it back and make everyone within a 30k mile radius feel single as fuck.
I can imagine once he's entirely comfortable with his partner, he is SUCH a gentleman. Shoes untied? He's getting down on one knee to fix it for you, caressing your leg softly and planting a kiss near your knee before standing back up. No he doesn't care if he gets his precious white pants dirty. No he doesn't care if any camera caught that and there'll be an article with his name in bold next day. Tired?? Will carry you bridal style. Out shopping?? (and he'd definitely love taking you out on shopping sprees) will carry all your bags. Anything!!
He slowly finds himself turning into husband material even if he has not been an ideal husband type ever. He'll find himself wanting to cook a nice meal at home for the two of you, likes having you sitting on the counter looking all pretty while he works and giving him kisses as thanks every now and then, or likes surprising you with it when you come home.
Starts memorizing your orders at restaurants or cafes, will always automatically just go and order your favorites.
Begins to refer to most plans with 'we'. It just comes out naturally. "This is a difficult mission to manage, but we can find a way around it". We. Even if you're not involved in his work in the slightest. You two are intertwined entirely to him.
He never officially asks you to move in. All he knows is one night you slept over and then slowly it became a regular and his house is becoming filled with more and more of your items, starting with your toothbrush then your towels then some spare clothes and now you practically live there. And he's so happy at how natural and comfortable and not awkward it feels. Nothing forced.
Speaking of spending the night, the first time you two shared a bed was insane to him. Being held so tenderly, with so much love and care and warmth.. All things he's so unfamiliar with. He almost couldn't handle it. His favorite sleeping position is either burying his face in your back while spooning you or having his face buried in your chest. He likes your warmth, your heartbeat, your hands stroking his hair and the other wrapped around him, he doesn't care how much of a baby these positions make him look like. He's comfortable and he deserves it.
Showering together was something he wasn't keen about until one time it happened and you washed his hair and he almost cried. Gentle hands rubbing his scalp and stroking his hair and lathering the soap so calmly, he could have died right then and there. Then washing his body with equal amounts of care. He'd never been taken care of that way. He started wanting you there for every single shower, throwing excuses like "I can't reach my back I need you to wash me!" or "my hair felt softer when you did it I don't know how so you have to do it!"
His future is uncertain. But he finds himself looking at your ring finger and wondering what wedding ring cut would look the best on it. Sees you with kids and thinks it'd be nice to have that. But it's a step he's far too afraid to consider taking, with how dangerous his work is and how the rug could get pulled from under him at any second. He'd never want endanger you or a child. Those are things for an incredibly far future, but the thought of possibly dying and not ever having it saddens him.
As for his gambling, as predictable as it is... You're his lucky charm!!!!!! But also his self-control. You pull him out of it when he starts betting a little TOO much, and you switch his drink with water when he starts getting too drunk too. You manage him without suffocating or restricting him, he'd appreciate it.
If you ever visit him during work hours at the IPC, he'd be the happiest. Just an IPC secretary coming to tell him he has a visitor who claims to be his partner and he's almost flying out of his chair like "let them in let them in!!!". Poor anyone around, because you will not be spared from Aventurine's kisses. He doesn't care who's there. In fact, if Topaz or Dr. Ratio are there, it's even better. He'd like to silently rub it in. And If you made him lunch and had come to drop it off???? He may actually just ask to marry you,, being taken care of is something he loves. Something he could get used to.
His job requires things to get dirty often. He's told you the details but you still stay. He sometimes wonders if you'll eventually snap out of this daze and realize what you've gotten yourself into. See his true colors and hate him and leave him. He thinks the day he came back home covered in blood that wasn't his own would be the final straw. But it somehow wasn't. He came fully expecting you to scream, yell, get angry, get upset, break up with him and leave. But you didn't. You just gave him a sympathetic look before dragging him to the bathroom. You tended to any injury with love, took his clothes off with care. Put what can be washed in the washing machine and threw what couldn't be to the side. Got him in the shower and helped clean him up. Dried his hair afterwards and got him in bed. Told him he should rest, he must be tired. Why do you still love him?? He's no good. He took someone's life today and you're worried about whether or not he's tired??? He won't ever understand what you see in him. But he's so grateful, he'd want to keep repaying you for your love.
And his birthdays.... If you throw him a surprise party, he'll cry. For sure. Does this guy look like anybody remembers or celebrates his birthday? He probably spends them getting wasted in some bar after blowing a couple of millions on a gambling table. A cake, decorations, gifts... You'd make that day special. Like a birthday should be.
He'd feel more and more like a human with you. Not like an object that can be used and discarded when no longer useful. A person. With feelings.
He'd get jealous. Cry in your arms. Say "tell me I'm yours". Begging for reassurance.
"You don't belong to anyone. I love you" you'd answer. And he'd break.
He doesn't know what it's like to not be owned. A slave. He doesn't know what it's like to be loved. Unconditionally.
He thinks you deserve better. But he can't let anyone else have you. So he becomes better.
Sorry this is soooo incredibly long and self-indulgent but I've been so obsessed for MONTHS this is so much pent up thoughts.... I'm so Normal about him <3
Yes you may absolutely interest me in a healthy relationship with Aventurine and I think every Aventurine fan needs to read this immediately-
The part about him coming home after a ‘work related incident’ had me SCREAMING oh my gosh
Like yeah coming to terms with the fact that Aventurine hurts people would be REALLY hard but you love him enough to trust him???
He definitely strikes me as the type who literally cannot imagine receiving anything without giving so to have someone just openly show him so much kindness without expecting something in return is literally shaking his world??
And yes physical touch Aventurine is so real- I have another ask proposing touch-starved Aventurine and that. Yeah that makes sense. Him counteracting that by being So physically affectionate just makes sense to me haha. He’s very in denial that he’s touch-starved haha…
Thank you for the food, I ENJOYED IT A LOT💕💕
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hi, love your writing! can i request Cater, Rook, Vil, Lilia, and Leona seeing their s/o wear something that turns them on/thinks is very attractive on them? thank you!
Cater Diamond:
While his first impulse might be to take a picture of the beautiful scene before him, while ordering you to pose accordingly, this was a look Cater was unwilling to share with the world. He wished he could be as smooth as he imagined but he feels his face going warm, trying to keep his thoughts in line as this wasn’t the ideal opportunity to take advantage of the outfit you’re wearing. He does mumble that your casual cruelty was killing him, nuzzling your shoulder and asking how you’d repay him if he behaved.
Leona Kingscholar:
Leona knows that you’re doing it for him, a ‘subtle’ way to beg for his attention without having to physically get on your knees for him. He can’t take advantage of it right away, pretending not to notice the efforts you’re going to, treating you so casually you would almost think you got demoted from being his lover. It’s when you’re just about to be alone, with company still bothering you, that Leona touches your waist, leaning over to whisper sweet promises in your ear to return your affections if you can manage a quick escape with him.
Lilia Vanrouge:
Lilia’s sly smile lets you know he’s caught on right away, giving a more censored comment on your outfit if others were around. He would whisper in your ear that you’re a tease, playing with the material of your outfit as he asked what had inspired you to wear such a thing. He would chuckle if you tried to play innocent, promising to pull out your honest, sinful desires when you were alone that night.
Rook Hunt:
Rook has always had a fine eye for art, and he can certainly tell when you’re all dolled up for him. He thinks it’s only right to respond with appreciation, considering you a hands on exhibit as he runs them along your body. He whispered in your ear that you always managed to draw his attention in the most unexpected ways, even when you didn’t realize. He gave some observations about the outfit, the color entirely flattering, the fit perfect for your body, he couldn’t get enough of you.
Vil Schoenheit:
Vil always felt an ego stroke when you appealed to his taste, down to the very material you clothed your body with as you knew he liked the way it felt. He needed a bit of a show first, making you show off your trick, modeling your beauty for him to give him a taste of what he was getting soon. He enjoyed admiring you the same way you admired him, considering it returning the favor as you often asked for the same thing when he took your tastes into mind. He enjoyed seeing the pieces you wore, hoping he helped you expand or grow in confidence when it came to trying new fashion.  
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brimurry · 4 months
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Shadow milk cookie headcannons
Edit: feel free to make requests in the comments, I'm almost done with school so I can continue writing now)
he doesn't speak much, but when he does its usually with you. His voice was deep and kinda raspy, yet comforting and soft at the same time.
His main ways of showing affection is gift giving and physical touch. The reason why i put physical touch is because with how much chaos he causes on a daily, the only physically touch he gets is violence.
Which brings us to the next head cannon! When he's fighting, he gets hurt a decent amount so you usually help him by healing him. He has a soft spot for these moments.
Looks scary, is scary, A softy for you. You could put flowers in his hair and he wouldn't take them out until they wilted or you took them out. Though if anyone else tries to even get close to him, he'll hiss and slap their hand away like a cat.
A personal head cannon i have is that he's a cat person
He likes watching other cookies live their lives, only for him to ruin it.
His hugs are tight and his kisses are passionate, with the lack of affection he gets
He has alot of FreeTime cause he forces the people that take his time to go away so he can spend it with you.
Hes secretly male wife material, but don't tell the other cookies ☆(ゝ‿∂)
He runs on the colder side, so he's perfect to cuddle in the summer
He lets you play with his hair
He gets flustered when you compliment his eyes
Heavily protective, cause of how much drama he causes, hes scared they're gonna go after you
If you get injured, hes instantly gonna think someone did it and won't stop until you tell him otherwise.
Hes fond of holding your hand during pda
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sttoru · 6 months
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‘toji doesn’t know how to properly give aftercare — nor did he care to do so before. but, meeting you changed his ways of thinking.’
☀︎|toji fushiguro x female reader. suggestive; fluff, comfort, angst. established relationship. hint of an age gap between toji and reader. mention of virgin!reader. mention of toji’s previous / past wife. grumpy sad dilf toji who learns how to love again t_t. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl’. self indulgent? yessir.
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toji grunts and his exhausted body collapses to the side, careful not to crush you underneath his burly figure. he drapes one arm over his eyes with the other resting near his side. his eyelids felt heavy — clearly needing some rest after hours of continuous bodily satisfaction.
he had gone a bit overboard this once. even toji himself was feeling the aftermath since his muscles were aching and his brain was telling him to go to sleep. the assassin was about to, however his ears picked up on a little muffled whimper sounding from beside him.
“mmph,” you sniff. your face was still buried in the pillow below you — your tears and drool staining the material. your limbs were trembling and you were completely and utterly spent. you couldn’t even turn around to lay on your back; it was all just too much.
toji watches you with an unchanging expression for a second. normally for him this would be the part where he’d get the money, dress himself back up and leave through the front door with a small ‘thanks for your time’ comment.
but, that was his past. that was after the death of his wife and before he had met you — that was a dark time where he sought money in any kind of way to ease the hidden guilt and pain in his body. he’d sleep with women for a pay check. and maybe also to simply forget about his miserable life.
toji thought that he wouldn’t ever love himself nor another person again after his life went downhill. though, that thought was proven wrong by you.
you were a girl whom he had met on numerous occasions by accident to the point you decided to exchange phone numbers. you had also eventually started to help toji with his son - megumi - during tough times.
a sweet young woman: that’s what you were and still are in his eyes. maybe you were the change toji needed. the miracle to heal from his past and get himself together.
“hey,” the dark-haired man speaks up in a gruff tone after taking in your weak state. he felt a faint twinge of guilt deep within him since he was the reason you ended up like that. perhaps he took it too far.
you looked up at toji through half-closed and watery eyes. all you could do was tiredly hum in response, “mhm?”
silence follows. it’s not really awkward, but there was a barely noticeable sense of insecurity radiating from the assassin. for the first time in a good while.
toji’s eyes dart around the room in hopes of finding or seeing something that would remind him of what to do in such a situation. aftercare; he knew how important that is after sex, but had forgotten how to properly execute it. he hadn’t done so in a good few years.
that could also be an excuse. maybe he was simply afraid to show any kind of affection to someone again. maybe.
despite all of it — despite all those complex thoughts and feelings — his body moved on its own command. toji shifted closer to your side, rough hand slowly reaching out to give you some head pats. that’s the best he could do for now.
“heh.” you chuckle, yet felt extremely happy that toji had shown any type of affection toward you in such a vulnerable moment. his fingers massaging your scalp gently, over and over, was enough of a sign for you. a sign that he cares.
you knew all about his hard life; past and present. you accepted toji for who he was and what he has done and does. one of the only people who’d stay by his side throughout it all.
“thanks, toji.” the words that left your lips made the older man silently nod. his touch grew a bit more confident after your positive reaction. his hand traveled down to the nape of your neck and over to your shoulder, turning you around so you could lay comfortably on your back.
toji couldn’t help but let his eyes wander across your gorgeous skin. even if it was sweaty and covered in other bodily fluids, it still was one of the most beautiful sights he had seen in his entire life.
“you okay?” he asks to which you give a weary nod. she’s far from okay judging by the looks of it, toji thought to himself.
he hesitantly leans his head down to plant a quick kiss on your shoulder. that did feel a bit awkward, though it turned loving the more you positively reinforced him with your verbal reactions.
toji sighs as he tries his best to keep you as comfortable as possible around him. his hands grab you by your sides and he hoists you up onto his lap, gently pushing your head against his chest; “c’mere my little girl.”
you happily accept the affection toji gives you. it wasn’t often that he’d do this after sex and you understand why. it takes a lot to heal from his previous wounds and you were there to support him throughout that journey. the fact that he was trying was enough.
“you’re nice ‘n warm,” you murmur, eyes droopy as you snuggle against toji’s bare chest. the older man chuckles at your comment and his big hands come to rest on your back to hold you in place — to give you a sense of security.
you didn’t have any regrets about tonight nor about any other night spent in bed with him. toji was the only man whom you were content with showing your body to. he’d never judge nor hurt you in any way, unlike the other more immature men in your indirect environment.
plus, you remember how unexpectedly gentle the big and scary looking man was with you during your first time a few days back. he was the perfect man for you in your eyes—in his own way.
“y’r real pretty. like a doll.”
the sudden compliment forces you awake. you blink thrice, trying to make sense of what you had heard. was it your imagination? no, it definitely sounded like toji. that deep and now almost groggy voice.
you lift your head up and lock eyes with the assassin. he was looking right back at you whilst the pad of his thumb delicately wipes some drool off your right cheek. you quietly stared at him for a good while which makes toji raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“pfft.” you let out a short laugh. you were both embarrassed and amused at the loving words that the older man had told you out of the blue. it made you feel tingly all over in a good way.
“what? did i say somethin’ weird?” toji questions as his hands slowly roam all over your body like they usually would, squeezing and rubbing longer in some spots, “i jus’ said what i observed.”
there was no hiding that lopsided grin on toji’s lips. the soft sound of your laughter was enough to make his entire body relax and give in to the warmth of the moment and the love that radiates between you two. you really were meant to be with him.
“no, no.” you shake your head after giggling. your lips find a spot on his chest to place a kiss upon in response, “it was cute.”
toji huffs at being called cute. no one had ever called him that. it didn’t really hurt his pride or ego — you could call him anything you wanted to and he wouldn’t mind. his rough hand does however give you a light smack on the ass after that.
“y’re lucky i love you, doll.” he grumbles and nuzzles his nose into your hair. the words left his lips before his brain had processed them. it was probably said subconsciously since toji doesn’t realise that he uttered the three words. the three words he usually hesitates on saying now flowing off the tongue so naturally.
you weren’t going to ruin the moment by teasing him about it. you were just happy that toji didn’t think twice before telling you that he loved you this time. it was a huge step forward in your relationship.
you simply giggle some more before placing a kiss on his lips that he instantly reciprocates.
“i love you too, toji.”
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brownbearwrites · 4 months
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pt.19281618192 of my obsession with felix oliver and reader poly coupleeee💞💞
SO JUST IMAGINE FELIX AND OLIVER BRAT TAMING READER.
LIKE HEAR ME OUTTTT GURLLL
reader is like super spoiled by felix amd oliver ( as u should material gurl 💋 ) and she doesn’t take ‘ no ‘ for an answer.
one day she’s acting bratty towards felix bcs he doesn’t wanna buy her a new bag ( cuz u got so many queen 🙁 ) she says rude stuff to him and felix gets fed up with it and calls ollie to tell what u said
ur in BIG trouble miss girl.
you and felix get home and oliver is already waiting for u guys in the bedroom
when u enter the bedroom oliver starts by teasing u with asking u questios and was it okay to be so mean to ur daddy no.1 after all the things he buys and does for u
anywhooo..
ur still bratty and start giving sass to oliver too but my man ain’t havin it 😞
daddy no.2 MANHANDLES u on the bed and starts spanking u, while daddy no.1 is preparing other stuff ( belts, toys etc. )
girl.. ur fucked upppppp
literally 💀
GIRLLL I wish I had more time and brain space to write right now because!! this is so hot!!
I literally just came back from watching Priscilla so this is immensely fueled by me swooning when Jacob Elordi asked if is she was ‘going to be a good girl’ 👀
BUT since you’re probably a rich kid like Felix, you’re not used to being told no. So when it does eventually happen, you get super pissy about it; back talking, refusing to join in on activities, pulling away from his touches. And above everything , Felix is a tactile boy — he doesn’t handle not having your affection well AT ALL.
Thank fuck you two have Oliver to fix things — even if his way of fixing things includes your ass being smacked red and a pair of handcuffs tying you to the bed.
“Daddy expected better of you,” Oliver would tell you in between smacks, “are you going to show me how good of a girl you can be for us? Are you going to apologize?”.
You’d be a sobbing mess, eyes teary as you stare at Felix who’s seated on the other side of the room, nursing a drink as he watches Oliver break you. Just as you think he’s going to let up on you (giving you the sweet aftercare you crave so badly) Felix gets up from his seat. You know you’re in big BIG trouble when he grabs the hitachi wand and the pair of fluffy pink handcuffs you’d been given as a gag-gift a few birthdays ago.
You’re about to have a looooong night…
(I might expand on this soon if I remember to!!)
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from moving away to wiping away johns kisses, i raise you avoiding all affection.
No cuddles, no kisses, no nothing, can be a joke/prank or can be because reader is overwhelmed, who’s to say.
All we know is john is practically having a war with himself over it because he as absolutely no idea if it’s a prank or there’s something wrong and wants to know how to help
(John price is husband material and a cuddly but violent teddy bear and i will die on this hill defending it)
You and I will stand back to back on this hill, defending it.
Honestly when it comes to avoiding affection though, I think he can tell if it is because you’re overwhelmed. There are signs at that point and John is a very intuitive man.
If he realises you’re moving away for that reason? He’s backing off. He won’t touch or kiss you, and if he does he asks permission first. This man loves you to death and will not stand for him adding to your discomfort.
Part of his love language may be physical touch, but his whole love consists of making you happy. He’ll keep back if that is what it takes.
Snacks? You got it. Quiet? He’ll go do paperwork or read a book beside you if you let him. If you want to be left alone, he’ll do that too but periodically check on you.
There is affection in listening to each other’s needs. And John Price is an expert in it.
Now. If you do it to mess with him? Well he is indeed unsure whether it is another one of your recurring pranks, or you’re mad at him.
Given the lighter nature of the last few however, I do believe he’ll lean with you being mad at him.
However, an affection deprived John Price is a moody John Price.
If you were actually mad at him it would not help at all. He’ll see reason soon enough though and try to talk through it with you. However that becomes a problem if you do it for a prank.
You act completely normal, but when he sits beside you, you scoot away. You smile and laugh with him like always, but when he tries to hug you, you stop him and pretend nothing is wrong. And when he tries to kiss you?
This man is gonna look like a kicked puppy.
Do it for long enough and I can guarantee that he will start begging for answers, for just a hug, only a kiss, just for you to talk with him. Cause after all, there must be something going on.
Once again if you do finally reveal it to be a prank, boy howdy does he get grumpy.
Man’s mind was in a tizzy, trying to figure out what he did wrong, and all this time you were playing him for a fool.
He might hole himself up in his office for a bit, mad. But that won’t last. After all, he’s been deprived of affection for all this time, and he can’t deprive himself any longer.
He’d walk up behind you and just wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you in while burying his head against the back of your neck. “I’m still mad at you.” He’d grumble. But having you in his arms again is too good.
Expect a pouty and needy Price who won’t let you do shit. After all, you deprived him and now he wants to make up for the lost time.
Grab a snack, put on a movie, and prepare to be stuck to his hip for the foreseeable future.
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alastors-antlers · 3 months
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Why Alastor is good aroace rep after all, written by an aroace
Hello all! I just want to start off this post by saying that I'm one person who definitely doesn't speak for all aroaces, but I wanted to make a post on this anyway, and maybe some folk would be interested in hearing out another perspective?
I'm not really caught up on everything that's been said over the course of HH's creation - only more recent interviews, since I'm pretty new to the fandom. Apologies if I've missed anything, but also I do not have the time to keep up with all the out-of-canon-material backstory unfortunately. I'm working with what we've got here.
So here's the thing:
Alastor is cruel, he's narcissistic, he doesn't care about anyone except himself, he's a serial killer and a monster.
(That's the argument I've heard - please tell me if that's not really what people are going for lol, in which case I've totally misunderstood?)
The issue with aroace rep when it paints asexual people with those traits is that it aims to dehumanizes them. Sex and love are essential to the human experience, right? So why wouldn't someone be interested? Because they're self-absorbed, and cold, and detached. They don't have the capacity to love others enough to feel romance.
And sure, Alastor is a killer, and a schemer, and prideful, and a monster by hell's standards. But no matter how above it all and stylish and in control and provocative he wants to be, he's a very human character, and his aroace-ness never serves to add to his alienation. You could even say that it makes him seem even more personable.
That's what I think is the key difference.
why he's human
Alastor's whole persona is about control, and he basically straight-up says this. He's controlling what his enemies know, what his public image is like. His goal is to be the Radio Demon -- overlord of Hell, charismatic, Machiavellian, and undefeatable. He's not. Despite that smile plastered over his face (a powerful tool, huh) he's so expressive for someone who's constantly pretending.
You see his exasperation with the Egg Bois and with Charlie's ranting; his nervousness in front of Zestial; his frustration with Lucifer and the petty lengths he goes to to piss off the ruler of Hell.
You see his desperation, making that deal with Charlie. He's surprised by the idea of being vulnerable in front of an enemy like Adam, and so close to danger. He drops the radio filter and the affect out of fear, and runs on broadcast TV to let out panic and anger and bitterness in his hideout, where no one else can see him.
He has a smile that tells us he's genuinely happy to see someone; it's a little wider than his default. You see it with Mimzy's greeting, you see it with Rosie. Rosie, especially, serves to make Alastor more human to the audience. More on this later, but for now, I'm just saying that you can see that he at least seems to respect her greatly. Whatever bond they have, we know that he trusts her to touch him, to share history with him, and with support that he trusts no one else for.
He pretends, but he can't pretend it all away. Loads of these emotions aren't even advantageous for him to show. It isn't necessarily how the typical asexual psychopath acts; he's not emotionless or only capable of anger or brutality.
He's so full of emotion that it leaks through, despite all that he does to avoid it. He's not inhuman and aloof, not really - he's so, so human, even when he tries not to be because he thinks that'll be what keeps him above all the rest. In control, and free from his chains.
(If anyone wants to see images about all this, I'll make a separate post - just let me know.)
(I also have another post, talking about why Alastor is at least a little attached to the hotel's residents too, shown via conversation with Niffty. In what way? different question.)
how the aroace part contributes to that
Now, to be fair, we don't hear much about his aroaceness in canon. It's just not relevant a lot of the time.
In the pilot, Angel's proposition ruffles his feathers so much that Alastor blanks for a moment. It's a joke, sure, but that ace panic face is a pretty popular Alastor moment in the fandom - Alastor, thrown off-balance by a sex joke of all things, after so many years in Hell that he should probably be used to this.
It's a moment that makes him more approachable; his aroaceness shows him unprepared for something someone else does for one of the only real moments in the whole episode.
And the other part: the ace in the hole statement.
Rosie apparently knows Alastor so well that she read that he's aroace. That tells us about their relationship; namely, that it is long-standing and genuine enough that she gleaned a piece of real information from him. It's a casual fact that she knows about him before he even figured it out himself. It lends legitimacy to their bond - this bond that shows us a more comfortable and warm side of Alastor that we don't often see.
If their relationship is purely business, isn't this something pretty frivolous and personal? It's not like he has anything to gain by telling her about his life, but she learned about it somehow. How close are they? That's where it adds a layer of complexity and personality to his character..
thoughts on representation
Overall, Alastor's an interesting character who has a level of depth and care and personality (outside of cruelty) that asexual psychopath tropes lack. Again, the moments where he's being represented as disinterested in sex or romance don't make him seem detached. Again, they don't say "look how hostile toward relationships his behaviour is - how separate he is from our humanity". That's what bad villain ace rep is. That's not what the show's doing.
Also: I'm not saying that we need to lower our standards or anything, but even if you think it's not the best rep, I feel like we should be supporting HH's efforts here. I know that on Tumblr we have a pretty queer-friendly space going, which is honestly an understatement lol but
Aces are incredibly underrepresented in fiction. There's a whole Wikipedia page about asexual characters in media, and it's short as all hell, and even if you consider what's on there you see quite a number of one-off characters who are never mentioned again.
In terms of real life business - before the DSM updated their definition of hypoactive sexual desire disorder (HSDD) in 2013, identifying as asexual wasn't even a recognized thing. If you talked to a clinician about your lack of sexual desire, you could be diagnosed with a disorder. Only in the 5th edition do we now have a little exclusion footnote about it.
The concept of asexuality hasn't been explored nearly as much as other queer identities in our scientific research. We get crumbs in terms of mainstream representation and understanding. House M.D. has an episode where House "disproves" us because he's just so smart.
Alastor isn't going to be perfect representation. There's no such thing as perfect representation, and from the moment he was conceptualized, you could see how people would take him poorly. Still, I think he's a net positive.
He isn't a side character or a token ace - he's a core part of the show, whose personality and character motivations we can reasonably presume are going to be explored much more deeply in upcoming season(s). He's loved by the fandom. Right now, given what we know, I trust Vivziepop to write the aroace representation he deserves, because with the way I've heard the cast/directing/etc. talk about him, they're trying to do the aroace community justice, so I wish people would let up just a little on the whole "Alastor is bad rep".
Let's give him a chance, all right?
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judeswhore · 2 months
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U and Jude first start hooking up and you’re still maybe not super confident that ur actually turning him on or that he’s actually into you the way ur into him, because he could be doing literally anything and ur immediately feeling hot and heavy but one day ur making out and he can tell ur too into ur head and he puts ur hand over his crotch and just goes "Feel this? It's just for you."
he’s got u in his bed, settled over u to keep u pressed into the mattress and he’s been kissing u for the past ten minutes, working his mouth over ur jaw and neck whenever he senses u need a break and he hasn’t even touched u, one of his hands cradling ur jaw while the other rests beside ur head but ur on fire. ur so embarrassingly wet and keep letting out little whimpers for him to swallow and it’s getting increasingly difficult to not buck ur hips up for some sort of release but despite how good it feels kissing him ur mind keeps wandering bc u can’t help but wonder if he’s enjoying it. he’s so stupidly hot and he’s obviously a lot more experienced than u and u can’t help but worry that ur not good enough and that ur not affecting him the way he does u bc ur falling apart and he seems so composed. and jude can tell ur not fully into it at the minute and that ur mind is so obviously elsewhere so he’s pulling back a little, smoothing his thumb over ur cheek and being all “what’s going on in that pretty head of urs? what’re u thinking abt” and ur a little embarrassed so ur just shaking ur head and trying to pull him back into a kiss so u don’t have to admit ur own insecurities but he’s telling u “nuh uh, talk to me” and ur quiet for a moment before mumbling “is this good for u? am i- do i make u feel good?” and ur cringing at urself and turning to avoid his gaze bc u feel humiliated but jude’s just watching u with soft eyes, taking a hold of ur hand that’s gripping his shoulder while shifting so he can press it over the tent in his joggers. and he’s so painfully hard and u don’t miss the wet patch staining the material as he flashes u a quick grin all “i’ve been kissing u for barely ten minutes and i’m abt to cum in my joggers. it’s more than good for me” and just to drive it home a little he’s going “and if you keep making those pretty little sounds when i kiss u right here,” with a kiss to ur throat “i’ll cum in ten seconds” and for the rest of the night even as he’s fucking u stupid he’s dropping comments abt how perfect u are and how good ur making him feel
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