Pinned
YesStyle discount code: TUWUD3
Writing sideblog: @fic-dumpster (animanga)
Yapping: @grabby-smitten (LaDS)
Resources/graphics: @omi-resources
Not spoiler free - fics rb - Kpop - Otome games - Pokemon
Pinned
YesStyle discount code: TUWUD3
Writing sideblog: @fic-dumpster (animanga)
Yapping: @grabby-smitten (LaDS)
Resources/graphics: @omi-resources
Not spoiler free - fics rb - Kpop - Otome games - Pokemon
I'm going to *remembers suicide is often not a desire for death itself but rather an attempt to radically change one's life because the current state of being has become unbearable but the person can't think of any way to change it other than death* kill myself
Goodluck Pikachu
Leonid Pasternak (Ukrainian, 1862–1945) - The Torments of Creative Work
oh leonid, we're really in it now
Leonid, you really understand it.
Save me Leonid, from my empty Word document
Leonid what should I do about the emails
Babe are you okay? you reblogged Leonid Pasternak's Torments of Creative Work again
Leonid Pasternak is the best! My favorite of his is The Night Before The Exam (1895).
My man Leonid continues to be relatable
❥ ok first off HAPPY ISAGI DAY this is part of how i'm celebrating LMFAOOO
❥ ik this is sudden but yolo type shit!! part of why i took hiatus is because i've been wanting to move >_<
❥ HABIBISAGI WILL STAY UP AS AN ARCHIVE. DON’T WORRY. for me to find epic posts i've made and reblogged and asks etc, but unfortunately she is old af (like. 2021 😭) and incredibly messy since she used to just be a main before i left the app for over a year 😓🩷 and i will never make a writing sideblog (i did it once never again) bc that shit is incredibly annoying to maintain and i wanted an organized and main writing blog so that is what i shall be doing LMFAO SORATONIN FUCKS !!!!!!!! :3 (organized and sexy and has a BEAUTIFUL tagging system so i will never move blogs again for a decade or smth MUHEHHEE)
❥ I JUST FINISHED SETTING THE BLOG UP AND MUTUALS I'M GONNA FOLLOW ALL OF YOU ON IT RN!! ^_^ PEACE HABIBISAGI!!🫶🥹 BUT WE ARE GOING PLACESSS TRUST this is peak. TO SORATONIN 😭🙏🩷 and on my man isagi's birthday as god intended 🫶 LMFAOO
i hope to see you all there!!!!! 🫶 if not then damn 🩷 it was fun ggs go next idk 😓
❥ HEADS UP i will reblog this a few times throughout the next few days + the fic i post on my new blog for diff time zones ;> pls don't be annoyed love u MWAH
you don't have to reblog this btw (ily if you do) but this is just for you to know if you see a silly billy creature in your notifs that is moi in the flesh x3
itoshi sae x f!reader smut. portal sex, lowk witchcraft (sigils drawn that mean the toy he fucks into = your pussy basically). p in v. not representative of real toys at all, this is very much fantasy. word count: 1.5k author's note: this is fucking deranged tbh but also very hot and different from the usual poetry of lovemaking i usually write. wrote this so horny that i feel like i should apologize or something
There's a sex toy in Sae's hand.
The term "pocket pussy" itself fills him with disgust. There's a strange symbol on the back of it, which he presumes is just the company's logo. Who is he to judge the branding of a sex company.
He presses his thumb to the entrance of the toy, tracing around the labia. It's surprisingly detailed, even the pearl of a clit lays right at the top, as if eager and waiting. It's almost…
So I'm seriously considering just posting my original story one chapter at a time while I work on it. I'm about 2/3 of the way done with my first novel (sitting at about 35k words over 22 chapters). I still fully intend to publish it one day but since I'm not an established author there's no reason I can't start posting now to build an audience for it. Then I can figure out the publishing part later. It's just intimidating as fuck.
For those interested in reading original stories, where would you prefer to read updates? I'm thinking AO3 or Substack (or both).
mydei looking up at you trying to ride him with that stupid cocksure grin as your legs start to shake. he sits up, leans in close, and asks “need some help?” with that low voice of his, knowing full well how badly you need him. he almost laughs when you grit your teeth at him and give him a glare before he starts to give in, pressing his large, calloused hands against the back of your thighs and bringing you down onto him hard.
“if you wanted something, all you had to do was ask.”
akage meme but tsubaki !
bonus stills !
Happy birthday trans people!!!!!! ✨💞🥰💙🫶🌟💕🦎🏳️⚧️💞the world is better with you in it ❤️
mutuals will log in at 7:42 AM and immediately start reblogging the wettest, hardest, and horniest posts I’ve seen in my life
parallel play (liking and reblogging your mutual's posts but not talking to them)
born to infodump forced to constantly worry if the other person actually cares or if im making sense or if i said something wrong or if im embarrassing myself or if they want me to stop talking or
Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and his lover :) That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, finally some fluff lol A/N: I missed writing for Error!! God, deliver me from the shackles of schoolwork and capitalism pls (I wanted this, I wanted this....) Enjoy! <3
“When I look at you, I can't believe it's true You're all I ever dreamed of, and you love me (And you love me) And you love me.”
The two of you are holding hands as you make your way to the new café that just opened on 6th Avenue, near Darlington Square, your fingers woven into his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Rafayel x Reader
CW: Rafayel in rut, breeding kink, Lemurian knot, i’m purposefully embarrassing Thomas again
INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI.
Something was off. You couldn’t tell what it was, but there was something in the way that adrenaline seemed to course through you without reason, coiling tight around your chest. It was like your nervous system was certain it was being hunted for sport, except with undertones of…something that you couldn’t really pinpoint.
You took the day off as a result. Focusing on work would be impossible with the amount of distraction thrumming through you. A shiver wracked you suddenly and aggressively, and you had a passing thought that maybe you were getting sick. You cocooned yourself in your blankets, curling back in bed. It wasn’t until early evening that you fully roused yourself.
With an over exaggerated groan, you rolled over in bed and retrieved your phone. Lighting up the screen, you saw missed calls from Thomas. Listening to the series of voicemails he left, a smile alighted on your face. Something about Rafayel being a moody booty, and Thomas asking you to go to his house and deal with him so that their deadline wouldn’t be missed. The way Thomas always seemed to rely on you to make Rafayel be cooperative made you laugh. It’d basically become a game to you. Even better was the fact that you could always seem to bully Rafayel into doing what needed to be done.
With an amused huff, you dragged yourself out of bed and readied yourself. Showered and dressed, you felt better than when you first woke up, but there was still a hint of something unsettled in you. The cute new dress you wore was one you’ve wanted to wear for a while, but the weather never permitted. It was still cloudy, but the persistent rain finally ceased the night before. It was just too bad the skirt was too short to ride your motorcycle to Rafayel’s villa. Ah, well. You win some, you lose some.
The closer you got to the villa, the more it felt like something was pulling you to him. It wasn’t painful, actually the opposite. Like the distance allowed for slack in the tether, easing the tension in the rope and uncoiling it from your chest. When you reached his doorstep, you felt like you were finally able to breathe easier, and the relief was a curious sensation.
The door was unlocked, which suggested to you that Rafayel was home. However, when you entered his home and called out for him, he didn’t respond. Concern knit your brow as you pressed further into the house.
You found him easily, sitting on the couch in his studio. Sitting was a loose definition, as really he was slumped and leaning heavily into the back of the couch, an arm draped over his face where his head rested on the back of the couch. Your heart lurched painfully at the thought that he might be hurt, so you rushed forward.
“Rafayel?” You question, removing his arm from across his face, which was flushed deeply. He kept his eyes closed, scrunching up his face at the intrusion of moonlight splashing across his face. You reached out to cup his cheek, attempting to rouse him further, and noticed that his scales stood out against his skin. Heat radiated from him, as though he had a fever, and you relaxed ever so slightly. Not an injury, thankfully, but this situation felt awfully familiar.
“Cutie,” he groaned pitifully, turning his face to nuzzle into your hand. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Nonsense, you should have someone taking care of you when you’re sick,” you say, trying to gauge his temperature with your hand. He made it difficult when his face kept chasing your touch. Then he grabbed your wrist, bringing your hand back down to cup his cheek. He inhaled deeply at your wrist, and you were reminded of a night long since past. A night where he went insane over a silly perfume. Well, you definitely weren’t wearing that perfume at this moment, yet his reaction was nearly identical.
“You should leave,” he urged, his lips brushing your wrist in a feather-light touch. “While I’m still in the right frame of mind to let you go.”
“Don’t be dumb, I’m not gonna leave you like this,” you say, pinching his cheek gently. He attempted to pout, but it fell flat and he dropped his head against the back of the sofa with a breathy groan.
“You don’t understand,” he whined. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. So you settled onto the couch beside him, knee knocking against his thigh.
“Okay? So, help me understand,” you press. And then a thought comes to you, your eyes following the glimmering trail of scales on his neck and dusting his cheeks. No wonder you thought it felt familiar. “Wait, is it Ebb Day again, already?”
“I wish it was that simple,” he mumbled. “That I can at least sleep through. This is way more embarrassing.”
“There’s nothing embarrassing about being sick,” you say, nudging his shoulder. He inhaled sharply when your hand made contact with his skin. And it was no wonder; it felt like an electric current coursed through you from every contact point you had with him.
He turned his head away from you, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear. The only part you could make out was “I’m not sick”, so you poked at him until he repeated it louder. You weren’t sure how it was possible, but it seemed as though his face was somehow even more red.
“I’m going through a rut, and I’ve never experienced it before,” he grumbled.
“Oh, that’s not so bad, then. Everyone gets stuck in a rut every now and then,” you say, stroking his arm in what you hoped was a reassuring way.
Rafayel barked a laugh, the sudden sound at odds with the quiet ambiance of the room. A kind of laugh you’d never heard from him before. He rolled his face back to you, the mirth sparkling in those oceanic eyes. He reached a hand up to cup your cheek, running the pad of his thumb along the edge of your lower lip. Your breath hitched, his touch paired with the intensity of his gaze stirring something in you.
“Miss Bodyguard,” he chuckled again. “My darling.”
Your brows drew down in confusion. “What?”
The smile falling from his face was the only warning you got. He sat up abruptly, leaning into you and crushing his lips against yours.This kiss was far different than ones you’d shared previously. Gone was the soft sensuality that you were accustomed to, in its place a hunger so great that your very essence was devoured with every stroke of his tongue against yours.
When he finally broke away from you, he pressed his forehead against yours. Shaky breaths mingled between you, and you all but melted against him during the contact. Your hands rested against his neck to cup the base of his head, threading your fingers into his hair. The rough texture of his scales scraped lightly against your palm, heightening your awareness of him.
“When a Lemurian finds their mate,” he breathes, pausing to kiss you again. “We sometimes experience a full body pull to them. Like some primal instinct takes over, and…well.”
He didn’t finish his thought, instead taking your hand and dragging it down the length of his body until it landed…oh. It was your turn to flush, the moan he released sinking into you when your hand came into contact with his hardened length. You hadn’t even noticed his tented trousers when you entered the room, but everything came into sharp focus now.
“So…when you say ‘rut’…you don’t mean…artistically,” you say, feeling your face redden further with every word. Yet, you didn’t remove your hand. His palm fell on your bare knee, your knee that was pressed into his thigh. Heat blazed in his touch, and he trembled with the effort of restraint.
“Yeah,” he whined, burying his face against your neck and inhaling deeply. His breath was let out in a shaky gust, lips drifting across your skin. “Your scent…it’s everywhere.”
You gripped his cock through the fabric, earning a moan from him. He shifted his hips, pressing into your touch further. You tugged at his hair to bring his mouth back to yours, taking up his lips in the same kind of crushing kiss he started with. Tongues tangled and danced, hands roamed, and you could feel a rightness settle in you. Like this was exactly what you needed to happen when you woke up.
Rafayel’s hand moved up your thigh, dipping under the hem of your skirt. Shivers wracked your body until his advance stopped at your hip. His touch was like fire, and it ignited something deep inside you. It coiled in you, low in your belly. It was like that thread from earlier, the one pulling you to Rafayel, curled in anticipation.
You felt your bodice slacken, realizing his other hand snuck up to slowly pull the zipper down. With a small chuckle, you helped him by shrugging out of the bodice until you were bare to him from the waist up. With a heady moan, he hauled you into his lap and latched onto one of your breasts. You sucked in a breath, arching into him and gripping at his hair. His tongue swirled against you nipple, teeth scraping against your flesh every now and then. The sensations shot through you, sending a pulse to your core where it was pressed against his length.
“Rafayel,” you moaned, shifting your hips to grind on him. “I need you.”
He groaned, swinging you around so that you now lay under him. Your legs were wrapped firmly around his waist, ensuring he couldn’t leave even if he wanted to.
“Cutie,” he breathed, looking at you intently. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you respond, firmly pulling him down atop you and taking the opportunity to unbutton his shirt. “As sure as I ever will be with anything.”
“I don’t think-“ he huffed, interrupting his own sentence with a hard kiss.
“I will be able to be gentle,” he finally finished when he came up for air. He sat back on his heels, pulling his shirt off. Then you helped him slide your dress down your legs before he settled over you once more.
“I’m not asking you to be gentle,” you say, slanting your mouth back over his again. The fabric of his trousers strained to contain him, and you reached between your bodies to flick open the button to free him. Taking him in hand, you stroked him and devoured the moans he released into your mouth. His hips jerked forward to chase your grip whenever your hand got too close to the tip of his cock, as though he were afraid you’d stop. Root to tip, you stroked him over and over, his ceaseless moans growing louder.
Distracted by the sensation of your hand wrapped around his cock, his lips hovered over yours. It allowed you to watch his expressions; how his brows drew down, how his nose scrunched adorably, how his jaw clenched while trying to hold back his moans. And the relax of those features as he gave in to the waves of pleasure.
With a guttural cry and stuttering thrusts of his hips, you felt him spill against your stomach. You kept your grip on him, feeling the pulsing throb of his cock as his climax washed over him. A feeling you couldn’t name swelled in you, a sort of satisfaction at bringing the beautiful man atop you to completion with just your touch.
“Mmh, Cutie,” he said, his voice taking on a huskier quality. “I’m just gonna apologize now if I get too rough with you, but you make it very hard to hold back.”
“So don’t hold back, give me everything you have,” you say, shimmying under him to remove your underwear. He sat back on his heels again to look at you, drinking in every curve and detail. His hand splayed on your stomach, spreading the mess he made there with an aroused huff. Then he used those fingers to dip into your slicked folds, curling them just inside. He watched your reaction to his touch with those damnable eyes that were half-lidded with unrestrained desire.
And then he…oh, fuck. He removed those fingers from you, lifting them to his mouth and tasting your arousal mixed with his release. He groaned, eyes fluttering closed as bliss spread across his face. It was a sight that would be seared into your brain, and you weren’t certain how you’d be able to face him normally ever again with that memory constantly rolling in your head.
When he opened his eyes again, you noted a faint blue glow to them. His gaze locked onto yours, and you had a feeling he wasn’t all Rafayel, but also something other. It reminded you of your brush with the Sea God, but you felt no fear. Only a contentment that settled in you, a piece of something that was missing falling into place.
He kicked out of his trousers, not even breaking eye contact. When he settled back over you, his cock lay heavy and hot against your pelvis. It wasn’t the first time you wondered how he would fit inside you, but you knew very well that he would. It always amazed you how splendidly he filled you, and you squirmed in anticipation.
Hungry. It was the best way that you could describe the way that he devoured you. His mouth easily coaxed you open, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. The way that he thrust his tongue into your mouth was indicative of how he would plunder your body, a sort of foreshadowing.
He gathered your legs, setting them against his shoulders and effectively folding you in half. True to his words, there was nothing gentle about the way he plunged into you. He filled you with one swift stroke, sinking deep into you. He didn’t offer any time for your body to get used to him, instead taking to thrusting into you over and over. Not that you needed to adjust to him, anyway. Your body was ready and more than willing to take the full length of him without pause.
He slammed into you, grinding against you with every full forward thrust. Your moans mixed with his, rising to echo through the studio. All you could do was cling to him, digging your nails into his skin as he fucked you hard into the sofa cushions beneath you. He all but crushed you beneath him, using your willing body to drive himself towards release. Fuck, the sounds of him slamming into you propelled you towards madness. You needed more, needed him to take you deeper and harder than he already was.
“R-Ra..fayel,” you moaned into his mouth, which hovered low over yours. You weren’t even sure when the kiss ended, but all concentration turned to where you were connected below. You absorbed all of his moans, groans, and growls, his pleasure working to heightening your own.
“Ngh, fuck, when you say my name like that, Cutie,” he said, his hips snapping forward more forcefully. He set a punishing pace, each stroke of his cock bringing you closer to the edge at such a rapid pace.
“Rafayel,” you moan again, voice louder. He bucked into you at a frenzied tempo, barely pulling out before slamming back into you. The pressure with each strike was enough to send you hurtling over the edge without so much as a warning. You cried out his name over and over, a breathless chant even as he continued to thrust into you.
With a cry of his own, he plunged into you as deep as he could go. Searing heat filled you, overwhelming your cunt with every pulsing twitch of his cock. It was as though liquid fire was flooding you, but fuck if it didn’t feel so damn good. Your body drank him in, every lingering flutter of your cunt milking him for his every last drop.
“Mmh, don’t….don’t move,” he whimpers when you shift under him. “I’m sorry.”
Confusion pooled in you at his apology, followed by worry as he began to tremble. He kept you in place, his cock still buried deep in you. His face was still flushed, and the shimmery blue of his scales stood out in stark contrast. His eyes were clenched closed, and each breath he took sounded labored.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice strained. “I can’t stop it.”
You were just about to ask what “it” was when you felt….something. You weren’t really sure how to explain it, you weren’t even sure what was happening. But it felt as though Rafayel’s cock was somehow growing larger, stretching you further than your body was ready to accommodate. He murmured apologies and encouragement in your ear, slipping into Lemurian tongue the more he went. You flinched once at the sting, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. If anything, whatever it was that now locked Rafayel to you just aroused you all the more.
“Rafayel,” you begged, needing to feel him move inside you again. He whimpered, hips jerking at the breathy quality of your voice in his ear. He buried his face in your neck, nuzzling you and inhaling deeply.
He finally began moving in you again, much shorter thrusts that were constrained by whatever that bulge at the base of his cock was. He couldn’t pull from you, only the tiniest of movement was allowed by that knot, but it was enough. The stretch of him buried in you, the way he filled you. It was all too much and you felt your body begin to tremble before you could even feel the pleasure coil in your belly. Somehow, this climax was far more explosive than the first, and you threw your head back into the cushions below you while you cried out. You felt his release searing through you again, his guttural moans muffled with his face buried in your neck.
His body continued to jerk, a seemingly never ending orgasm just pumping into you. Even when it seemed like it would be over, his hips would jerk forward and start the process over again. You clung to him, your own release being ripped from you over and over until you were a trembling mess beneath him.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned against your neck. “I-I don’t know if I can stop.”
He took pity on you, releasing your legs from his hold to let you wrap them much more comfortably around his waist. The shift put new pressure on his cock, and he hissed in pleasure. It also made you much more aware of that bulged base of him, lodged tightly in place. It was just more of a reminder that Rafayel was far from human- not that it ever bothered you. Even more was that emblem blazed on his chest, a sigil that seemed to alight every time you engaged in some form of intimacy with each other.
Bathed in the light of the full moon, you lay intertwined with each other. You thought that perhaps whatever primal instinct had taken over Rafayel had abated, but you were sorely mistaken. He pumped himself into you with only the briefest of pauses between each shuttering climax. You lost count how many times his hips snapped forward, how many times your body shattered around him, how many times your voices joined each other in pleasured cries.
Dusk had long turned to night when his body finally released its vice grip on him and he was able to relax into you. The knot, or whatever it was, subsided and he collapsed on top of you. His breathing was ragged and you could feel his heart thundering. You stroked his sweat-slicked hair, working to steady your own breathing.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, nuzzling his head against your chest. “If I knew it was gonna be like that, I would’ve tried harder to send you away.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” you reassured, kissing the crown of his hair. It was true, this was an experience with him that you wouldn’t trade for the world. You just wished you knew what triggered such a thing, so you could be better prepared for him should it happen again. Both of you were drenched in sweat from the exertion, but it seemed that his fever from earlier had disappeared. So had most of the scales and the ominous blue glow from his eyes.
“Come,” you said, determined to get him up and into a bath, with a pitcher of ice cold water shared between you. You nudged him, but he groaned and didn’t move.
“I already did. Way too many times, I might add.”
“Oh my god,” you say with a laugh, softly punching him in the shoulder.
“Yes?” He chuckled. You hit him in the shoulder again, and he laughed playfully. He grabbed your fist, placing a kiss on your knuckles. Then a quick kiss on your lips and he was sitting up. You mourned the loss of his weight over you, but thirst became too great a need to ignore any longer.
After chugging what felt like a gallon of water between the two of you, a bath was drawn and you were tucked in front of him in the hot water. Soreness already began to seep into your muscles, but you didn’t let that deter you from exploring his body more and asking questions about hiss Lemurian anatomy. He didn’t have a lot to answer with, since that’d been the first time he’d ever experienced such an event. He couldn’t even tell you what triggered it, just that he woke up that morning and heat engulfed him, with no relief until you’d walked through his door.
So, you spent the night locked in each other’s embrace. He took you, over and over, his appetite for you seemingly never ending. This time it was the kind of lovemaking that you were accustomed to, anywhere between soft and sweet or rough and wild. You loved every second of it, even the sloppy overstimulated portions towards the end. When exhaustion finally took over, you were wrapped in his embrace, his head tucked against the back of your neck with his soft snores fanning across your skin.
You completely forgot about Thomas’s call earlier. And even more, you were entirely unaware that he’d been calling during the first moments of your tryst, and that call had connected as your dress fell to the ground.
It wouldn’t be until the next morning that you came to the mortifying realization that the poor man had accidentally heard everything.