Being Disabled Will Really Have You Thinking/saying Things Like “yeah I’m Not Really THAT Disabled.

so are you a boy faggot or a girl faggot?

explicit sexual content, a bit of dark content. contains gn! reader, obsession, stalking, allusions to xavier accidentally killing mc's grandma and best friend (caleb)🧌 the both of you live in townhouses instead of an apartment. written on mar. '24

perv!xavier who always pries into your private life, subtly asking for more details.

perv!xavier who shares his clearance with you and offers to drop you home just so he can know your current location. perv!xavier, who just so happens to be walking past your home and stops to say hi to you-- through your window while you face away from him, towel the only thing covering his body.

xavier's the soft-spoken, sleepy boy you befriend and, as you get closer, allows you to rely more and more on him when it comes to your issues. he could never give you a good solution though, eyes taking glances at your collarbones and stomach that peeks out whenever you stretch in that white fluffy sweater he gifted you. focusing on your lips, he eventually nods to whatever it is you're saying in "understanding."

the more he got closer to you, the more his life took a downward spiral. he was a good guy who was always focused on saving people-- saving the world. but when you found him on that mission, he just couldn't get enough of you and no matter how hard he tried to stay away, you two would always cross paths. xavier became more interested with every interaction. he craved to see you more and more so here he was-- just outside your home. he wasn't stalking you... you told him where you lived and said specifically to "come by whenever" he wanted. and that's just what he did.

your towelled body becomes bare as you push yourself up onto the bed, laying on your stomach while your legs move back and forth in the air as you smile and giggle. xavier's eyebrows twitch and his eyes darken as his nails dig into his skin. what were you so damn happy about? to be honest, xavier was ready to kill anyone who set his hands on you. it's not like it wouldn't be the first time, though, he would make certain, unlike before, there would be no casualties involved, not that you had anyone left after the first incident.

xavier spots you rolling onto your stomach. your fingers trace down your body, sending shivers down your spine before you fuck yourself onto them. xavier follows suit, unzipping his pants and stroking his cock. he watches you intently, looking at the way your mouth forms words-- said word being xavier. the slow sounding out of it and the fact that you called out his name throws him for a loop as he cums right then and there, a choked whine leaving him.

looking at the mess on his hand, he pouts, a bit annoyed he couldn't last longer. he looks back up to spot you still at work, your phone now resting on your bed. focusing his eyes, xavier stares at the electronic device to see the displayed photo of said boy outside your window, previously in the comfort of his own home with his shirt held by his teeth while he pumped at his cock.

Bro, it might be me...

"Hey, I can't sleep..."

Xavier mumbles something in reply, totally incoherent to you. He reaches for the lamp on the nightstand next to his side of the bed, and a warm glow fills the room. He yawns, and he sits up in bed, leaning against the headboard, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Okay, come here, then."

He pats his lap twice. You stare at him, and then at where he was patting.

"You want me to sit on you?"

He raises an eyebrow. "No. Come put your head here."

You oblige and lie down with your head in his lap. He reaches for something else on the nightstand - it's a book. He flips open to a page and clears his throat.

"Once upon a time–"

You can't help but laugh out loud, and you end up shaking the whole bed. Xavier clicks his tongue and shushes you.

"I'm trying to read you a bedtime story, if you don't mind."

"Okay, okay," you concede. "I'll be quiet. So quiet."

Xavier continues, putting on a storyteller voice. "There was a young girl whose mother had sadly died, and she lived with her father whom she loved dearly..."

He continues with the story of Cinderella, and you're enthralled by all the voices he puts on for the different characters. They sound ridiculous and ill-fitting, but you're entertained nonetheless. All the while, one of his hands is in your hair, gently brushing his fingers through it. The other holds the book, and in the moments where he takes the hand in your hair to flip a page, you instantly miss it - you would be happy for him to read a page over and over again if it meant keeping his hand right where it is. There are a couple of times where he yawns, and it's contagious - you yawn along with him.

"... and they all lived happily ever after. The end."

Xavier closes the book, but you turn over in his lap to look up at him. You push your bottom lip out in what you hope is a cute pout. "Can you read me another one, please?"

He rolls his eyes, but obliges, and opens the book again. He flips around for a little bit before clearing his throat again. "This is the story of Sleeping Beauty..."

You're not sure when it is that you doze off, but the next time you wake, sunlight is streaming through the gaps in the curtains. Your head is still in Xavier's lap, his hand still resting in your hair. The book he was holding is next to him on the bed, opened to a random page, and you can hear him snoring lightly. You turn, just a little bit, to take a look at him. His eyelids are twitching just so slightly, his mouth moving as if in conversation with someone in a dream. You feel a warmth spread across your chest, your heart beating just a little faster. Sleeping Beauty indeed.

Smart Enough

Synopsis: Dr. Zayne has an incredible mind, incredible physique and an incredible stamina. Having a pretty thing on his arm at all times is just a perk.

Warnings: Dumbification, Zayne is a Hard!Dom, size-difference, choking, filming, not for everyone, Y/n is sort of a crybaby, drooling.

As your fiancé, Zayne is a handsome doctor with an impressive physique, especially when it’s hidden under that white lab quote. He's tall, muscular, and you can't help but obsess over how much bigger he is than you. “Y/n, stop trying to get me to flex for pictures."

The way he says it is so cold. He’s relaxing, for once, in his home office chair. He just finished a workout, he tried to never miss a day no matter how tired he was from work. Y/n pouts, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Pleaseeee? I always like showing you off.”

Zayne looks up from his laptop, those piercing blue eyes meeting yours with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “And I always tell you I'm not here for your'showing off'. It's not professional." Despite his serious tone, there's a small smirk playing at his lips.

But behind closed doors, with the night casts a shadow over them, he changes. Your phone is propped on a tripod, angled just enough to show your cock drunk expression. His arm is around your throat, the muscle squishing your face as he drills you from behind.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin. Zayne's grip around your throat tightens slightly, his voice low and husky in your ear. “See, this is what you want. Not some fucking Instagram post."

Zayne slows his thrusts, his hand sliding down to grasp your chin, forcing you to look at the screen. Your face is a mess of pleasure, his arm a thick band around your neck. He snaps a picture, the flash momentarily blinding you. “Perfect."

Your drooling, pupils dilated from the ecstacy. “S-so meannn Zay-!”

He chuckles darkly, his thumb wiping away the drool from your chin before bringing it to his own lips, sucking it clean. “You love it when I'm mean to you, don't you?" His hips snap forward, bottoming out inside you as his arm squeezes your throat.

You don’t want to admit it. Zayne is the smartest man you’ve ever met, maybe in the entire world. Knocking yourself down a peg is something that gives you a deep satisfaction. “N-Nu uh!”

Zayne throws his head back with a laugh.

God, you're cute.

He pulls out slightly, then snaps his hips hard. "You know what your problem is?" He growls, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a red mark. "You have no self respect. No filter."

You are whimpering as he releases your throat from his arms, instead he tangles his surgeon steady fingers into her your, pulling your head back so you are staring in the camera.

His fingers tighten in your hair, making you whimper. The camera captures your disheveled look - your mouth open, eyes half-lidded and slightly glassy, cheeks red. "Look at you," Zayne mutters, taking another picture. "No brain. No filter."

“I-I’m smart!” You sound like you are trying to convince yourself more than your surgeon fiancé

Zayne laughs again, his thumb spreading your drool over your chin. "Mhmm. And how many degrees do you have?" He asks mockingly, his hips moving slow and deep. "One?" He smirks. "Two?" He pulls back slightly, waiting for your answer.

You choke back a sob when his cock curved just right into your drooling walls. “N-none…”

Zayne's smirk grows wider, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and dominance. "Exactly," he says, his voice low and mocking. "And how many do I have?" He thrusts harder, emphasizing each word. "Four. Fucking. Degrees."

Zayne was a fucking child-prodigy of medical knowledge. But you, you were his pretty little Hunter that looked perfect on his cock.

His smirk softens slightly. "God, you're an airhead," He mutters, snapping another picture of your disheveled, half-crazed look. "One hundred fifty published papers. Surgeon at twenty seven. And you?" He laughs, his thumb pushing into your mouth.

"You're cute. Absolutely adorable. And so fucking stupid." His thrusts pick up speed, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you drool even more. He captures another photo, then pulls your hair harder.* "You know what else you are?"

You are so far gone, if your life ended right that second, you wouldn’t give a single shit.

“The love of my life.” He bends your head back and captures your mouth in a heated kiss. His cock twitches inside of you, and he cums.

He breaks the kiss, panting as he fills you up with his release. He holds the camera up, taking a picture of you all - him looking intense and satisfied, you looking absolutely wrecked and filled with his cum. He sets the camera down and gently pulls out of you.

You whimper, coming down from a very deep sub space. You’re shivering, sniffling and trying to wipe your tears away.

He watches you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. "Hey, come here," he says gently, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses your forehead. "You did so well, baby."

You immediately seeks his comfort, burying your face in his shoulder. His skin is sometimes cold to the touch, but there is no place you’d rather be. “D-did I do good?”

He nods, his arms tightening around you. "You did amazing," he murmurs, nuzzling into your hair. "I'm so proud of you. My pretty little Hunter, so obedient and perfect." He rocks you gently, his cold hands rubbing up and down your back to warm you up.

His voice dips, like he’s talking to one of his young patients in the pediatric ward.

His voice softens, taking on that gentle, almost paternal tone he reserves for his youngest patients and... apparently, his submissive fiancée when she's in a vulnerable state. “There we go... shh... my good girl..."

“Zayne?”

“Hm?”

“Am I smart?”

“Get some sleep, Princess.”

back by unpopular demand: me

LGBT in fighting is fucking dumb and I’m super tired of yall’s stupidity. The fascists who run the government do not care that you are “Not like the other queers”. The fascists do not care that you hates it when bisexual women are taking their straight boyfriends to pride. The fascists do not care that you are a gay person who hates trans people with a passion. The fascists do not care that you are a trans person who hates non-binary people with a passion. The fascists do not care that you are a queer person who bullies 12 year old kids on tik tok who use fox/foxself pronouns and identify as fox gender. Hating each other will not make the homophobes go away. I don’t care how many times you say “But these people in the community make everyone else in the community look bad.” Fascists think we are all the same they will not single any of us out just because some of us have the same opinions as the fascists/Alt right. They are not passing anti trans laws because some trans people are too loud and cringey they are doing it because they hate all trans people. They are not passing anti gay laws because some gay people are too loud and cringey they are doing it because they hate gay people. FASCISTS DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR OPINIONS THEY WILL KILL YOU REGARDLESS! FASCISTS DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR OPINION THEY WILL KILL YOU REGARDLESS! FASCISTS DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR OPINION THEY WILL KILL YOU REGARDLESS! Do you understand me?

Please, for the love of god, leave me CLEAR INSTRUCTIONS!!! If you think it’s implied, I promise you that to me it is not. If you give me poorly worded or vague directions I’m gonna spend half an hour stressing over the potential different ways to interpret them and either become paralyzed with indecision or inevitably interpret them the least correct way possible

next door by ASTN and Amelia Moore 🚪 ☆ ★

I'm in love with the boy next door. With the boy next door. With the boy next door. I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love with the boy next door.

Every time someone (incl disabled people) say that disability is just a social construct, a fairy looses their wings