i think that we as a society forget that this is what aizawa looks like under his clothes
all i gotta say is
wolf in sheep's clothing. idk if anyone's done this with the mc, so lemme do this with the murderous overprotective younger sister :3
also this looked good too
141, graves, konig ⸝⸝ navigation
୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : nicknames ghost, soap, gaz, price, graves and konig would call you in a relationship!
୨୧ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 : fluff - just cute nicknames
simon 'ghost' riley
love
darling
my love
dove
johnny 'soap' mctavish
bonnie
my lass
baby
pup
kyle 'gaz' garrick
baby
babe
sweetheart
angel
john price
darling
sweetheart
honey
sweetie
phillip graves
doll
dollface
princess
sugar
konig
lieb - dear
Puppe - doll
baby
sweets
no one respects the art of cock-warming quite like Price.
18+ | cock warming. exhibitionism.
he loves having his lil sub (whether you want to be or not) kneeling at his feet, his cock stuffed down your throat while he works, alternating between holding a cigar in his hand or a pen. the other on the back of your head, keeping you still. cradled his lap where you belong.
and he'd spend ages training you up for it, too.
starts by makingyou sit in his lap, letting you mewl and whine and pant in his ear about the stretch, the need. wanting him to just fuck you already and get it over with. but he's patient. let's you acclimate slowly until all he has to do is pat his thigh and you're already shoving your panties to the side, sliding down his thick girth as he turns on some movie you'd been chirping about wanting to see. squirming around for a moment until you find your spot before melting into his chest, breathing around the stretch. because at some point, having him inside of you, stuffing you full—cock, mouth, ass—comes as naturally as breathing, anyway.
but if you think this is a private endeavor only, well. you'd be wrong.
it starts small. his fingers inside of you when you're out at a restaurant with Laswell and her wife (who seems to sharing your expression; Kate's hand disappearing below the table), just sitting. teasing. he's not trying to get you off. it's just training. new horizons, love, he says, and it's just so easy to get swept up into the maelstrom of his desire, isn't it?
a movie after. it's boring. you hate it. so, he unzips his trousers and offers himself to you instead. let's you thumb through your feed (phone on silent, brightness down to zero) in the back of the theatre as you lounge across the chairs in the empty room, his cock down your throat.
an opera. sitting on his lap with him inside of you, dress covering the indecent act as he shoves your panties to the side (only worn in case he finishes—can't have his cum dripping down your thigh when you go out to eat, can you?) and sinks in deep with a little groan muffled into your neck.
soon, he'll refuse to let you sit anywhere that isn't his lap. on his cock. you almost get caught a few times (and maybe you do) but John's influence is all-consuming and no one bats an eye when he starts to bounce you on his lap in an empty restaurant, hand curled over your mouth to keep any noise that spills out just for him. only for him.
if you think falling asleep without him inside of you is an option, then you should have thought about that before moving in because after he fucks you, he'll cradle you close, ignoring any protests about cleaning up. feigns sleep until you huff, giving in.
(you sleep better when he's inside of you, anyway.)
he's just utterly insatiable—and smitten, really—and it doesn't even feel much like training or conditioning when (he rings the dinner bell and) your mouth starts to water as he sits down, thighs spread wide enough for you slip between. nursing his cock the same way he carts his fingers across your nape, cradling the whiskey in his hand. staring down at you with a deep, ravenous hunger as you sigh around the thick of him, and rest your head on his lap.
(a bell echoes in your ear, but it's easy to ignore it because he was right, after all. this is where you belong.)
"what are you doing?..." your boyfriend's words come out breathlessly as you place his head between your thighs. squeezing his head between them playfully.
his steamy hot breath against your pussy, huffing like a dog in heat as you squeeze his head between your thighs. drool coating his lips as he feels your pussy twitching and clenching against the back of his head.
it was so good that you couldn't help the way you were basically humping his head. clenching your fingers around his hair and pushing him harder against your needy pussy.
a groan comes out of his wet mouth as your feets brush against his sensitive nipples. the only thing that's separating your cold feets from making contact with his hard nipples is the fabric of his shirt.
throwing his head back into your pussy, causing a whine to rip out of you as you feel his head hitting your wet clit.
your boyfriend couldn't help the way he took a hold of your feet, pushing it against his raging hard on. his red tip leaking precum through the fabric of his pants.
and that was the night you realized your boyfriend had a thing for your feets.
art credits to @kakitsubata0510 on X.
Aliens have such different gender and biology from humans that none of them menstruate. So imagine this.
Alien: Human Steve, why did I find blood on the lavatory floor?
Steve: Oh, that's just Karen.
Alien: What??
Steve: Human females bleed from their reproductive organs once every month for five to seven days.
Alien: wHAT?!
Steve, calmly: Yeah, they can lose enough blood in a lifetime to kill ten grown men.
Alien: WHaT ?!?!
Karen, walking in: Steve, I need A FUCKING break. And chocolate. And a heating pad. I'll be in my sleeping quarters. Also, I threw up.
Steve: Okay, take the day off, I'll bring you your stuff in a bit.
Alien: *jots down in notebook* Human females are indestructible and fearsome. Regard them with respect.
EDIT: I swear, if this is the thing that makes me Tumblr famous, I’m gonna blow a braincell. And I don’t have many of those left, so…
Edit 2: Guys. Guys. What?! My grumpy menstrual rant is in no way worthy of being tumblr famous. *is mildly to severely confused/thankful/bumfuddled*
Edit 3: Why is this still getting notes wtf
This or nothing
I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)
Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.
--
Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.
They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.
They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.
They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.
Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.
Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.
What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.
How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.
All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.
"just stay neutral and dont take sides" um no. fuck you and fuck israel. free palestine 🇵🇸
Deadlifted 405. 3 reps 8 sets.