#“master i implore you please-

[interdimensionalhellscapeportal]

What in the blue blazes is *happening* here?!?! Sidious has stabbed ten lightning rods or ultra high intensity nuclear material in glowing cases into Vader's... Cape? Armor? BACK??? as Vader holds some sort of Spear of Destiny in the snowy fields of Some Wicked Ancient Sith Power Nexus (alt. Chernobyl in winter)???????? And now Sidious is like "good, goooooooooood, what a magnificent angle, we'll shoot from right here" BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE HE'S DOING, MAN. IT REALLY, REALLY DOES.

Darth Vader #50 (2024) pencil & ink by Raffaele Ienco color by Federico Blee

[littlegermanboy]

i've shared amal's gofundme (@amalashuor) several times, but i just received messages from her that broke my heart

amal is a 26 year old mother from gaza. she is an incredibly dedicated and loving mother to her year old daughter, maryam. before the war, she was studying to receive her masters degree in french language. on her instagram (@/amal_sufian97_) she shared beautiful photos of her life and family in the years before the war.

now amal, her husband, and maryam have been displaced several times and have nowhere to turn to. amal wishes to finish her degree, and both she and her husband want nothing more than a better life for their young daughter. every time i receive a message from amal, my heart is full knowing she is still alive, but it breaks for her suffering. i implore you, please donate any amount you're able to help amal and her family escape gaza. they deserve nothing less than safety, warmth, love, laughter, security, and life. as of july 6th, €1,025 / €30,000 has been raised. her campaign is also included on el-shab-hussein and nabulsi's spreadsheet of verified fundraiser (#175). if you're unable to donate, please share. i want nothing more than to give amal hope that she can provide a better life for her daughter.

[hyewka]

alo! love ur sub beomgyu universe

could u write sub cat beomgyu being too clingy nd bratty that he gets punished by his owner or simply just being in unbearable heat nd begs for his owner to breed her??? hybrid fics r crazy mad nd im crazy

warnings; sub!gyu, hybrid au, not proofread

imagine kitty!beom who keeps looking over at you with a permanent pout on his face because you scolded him and told him to keep his distance for scratching you earlier. his bottom lip would wobble as he attempts to get you to make eye contact, kitty claws buried in the pillow hes holding tight against him but youre just not budging.

“i didnt mean it.” he finally breaks.

“you didnt mean what?” you dismissively mumble keeping your eyes on your laptop as you finish up your report.

he whines, throwing the pillow away to all of a sudden break your command and cling onto your arm. “you know i didnt mean to hurt you, i really didnt! please dont be mad”

“beomgyu you crossed the line, i told you to keep a distance.” you warn.

“who cares about the line! just tell me youre not mad!”

and ofc hes holding onto you and shaking you to try to get you to look at him like hes owed your forgiveness

kitty beomgyu who cant really sit through a punishment without purring and pressing his body flush to yours whining for you to forgive him that he’ll do better but that only has you snap and promptly put your hand down his pants to shut up his bratty adamant complaining. it does just that. having him bucking and panting already, its like he does this to get this exact reaction out of you, to have your hand wrapped around his dick. pumping it but not letting him cum. his loudness tonight has you getting a migraine so you end up shoving a finger in his watering mouth which he eagerly wraps his lips around sucking earnestly and moaning wantonly—slut.

when you can’t focus on doing two things at once you slip your fingers out of his mouth, a string of saliva breaking. the moment you do, he’s loud again, whining and mewling, you resort to slapping his thighs punishingly. “use your shirt kitty”

and as you pump his pretty cock, trying to focus on your computer, beomgyus biting the ends of his shirt so hard, he drenches it with his saliva he ends up tearing it which again serves to put you out of your productivity. you look over at him, a scowl thrown his way that he doesnt shy away from, this brat. “you cant even control yourself for more than two minutes?” you ask incredulously.

he doesnt even pretend, he immediately shakes his head. “i cant” he breathes out, “i need your pussy, feel like im gonna die”

“aww, kitten feels like he’s gonna die so i just have to give you my pussy don’t i?”

the audacity to nod has you scoff. “raise your arms.” despite how entitled hes been acting, he enthusiastically obliges. when you leave to get a scarf to makeshift a restraint he whines at the loss of your hands on his weeping cock. “what do you want your master to do beommie?” you implore, making sure to tie a tight knot.

he replies almost immediately, without skipping a beat. “wanna breed you.”

you laugh a scoff, straddling his lap, your clothed cunt grinding on his sensitive dick. you could tell it’s driving him to a brink already, he already attempts to break from the scarf. too bad you know how to tie your knots well. “breed me? beommie, let’s not get too absurd, it’s too much even for you.”

you dont expect for him to break so quickly but he does, starting to sniffle, his cute ears twitching uncontrollably, tears welling up in his round eyes. “sit on my cock….p-please.”

you slide the soft cotton of your panties up and down his wet dick, pouting mockingly at the way his face falls into a distraught show of his arousal. his mouth hangs open and hes drooling like a mutt you have to slap him to get him to behave. “don’t be dirty. look pretty with your lips shut.” you say, mouthing at his bare neck.

you can easily pick up on his close mouthed whimper, his pathetic attempt at fucking your heat doesn’t serve to do anything for him and it turns you on even more. “wanna cum on my panties? wanna soil it with your little seed?” you goad, getting breathy yourself as you increase your speed on his fat cock, letting your weight engulf it even more.

he shakes his head, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks. “baby please, i-im gonna die, i’m g-gonna—hic—im gonna burst, baby. it hurts. i don’ wanna cum, jus wanna be in your pretty cunt,”

he lets out another broken plead when you rub his earflaps in circles, making it extra soothing just like he loves, “let it all out kitty, its okay” you drawl

he almost does just that, letting out a deep purr, his tummy untensing. but then its like he snaps out of it, shaking his head in defiance. “dont want to. if im gonna cum its gonna be in your pussy, ill have you drip with my-”

you dig your fingers in his bare skin and he yelps, jolting, uncontrollably sobbing by this point. “jeez, so sensitive. what a baby. arent you, kitty? just a baby needing to be tamed.”

speeding up, having the head of cock brush against your clit every now, then he finally spills his load, warmth spreading on the bed, dirtying your sheets. his chest’s heaving, and you take some time to look over his tummy, his shirt completely ruined.

“you’re cute” you conclude getting off his softening dick. “but now im serious, dont misbehave. i really need to get my work done, ‘kay beommie?”

he huffs, pouting and turning his head, practically giving you the silent treatment as you shower him with praises, untying the scarf around his wrists and cleaning his thighs up, his stuck up nature shining through. you find it mildly annoying at worst but adorably very beomgyu. you hum in contentment, what a cute brat

[juletheghoul]

soak

a/n: Another fantastic request that sent me clean into the sun. I love all the situations you want Marcus and his girl in, you are all feeding me just as much as I'm feeding you! Please enjoy this un-beta'd, barely edited request. All mistake and errors are mine! please enjoy

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, hand stuff (both female and male receiving), praise kink if you squint, talk of war (I think this could be considered hurt / comfort, since our boy needs a massage), master / slave dynamic (power imbalance) he’s still pretty possessive, Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus - let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2k (😅)

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

The moon was high, owls hooting as the Roman army was returning from another brutal victory. Soldiers entered tents all around, you could hear them and it was with a sinking heart that you waited for him–your general. You wrung your hands, rationalizing that surely he would take longer, he would see to last minute plans, he would have meetings with his Legates, he would take tally of numbers and be the last to seek rest. 

You busied yourself with the water as you waited, boiling it to fill the massive tub he’d been gifted, a tub he’d never use. He saw it as an excess, a waste in times of war but the winces you’d witnessed in days passed spurred you on, urged you to fill it with hot, steamy water and prayed to the Gods that he’d see this in the spirit with which you did it and not as a gross overstep. 

You’d just finished pouring the last, heavy cauldron full into it when the tent flap opened, signifying his arrival. You catch his eye and he frowns at the sight of the full tub, letting out a heavy, annoyed sigh as you approach him cautiously. 

“What is the meaning of this, Girl? I did not command you to do this.” His tone is icy and you can feel the anger, the disappointment in his voice. 

“Apologies Dominus, I know I took a big liberty and I accept any punishment you deem fit, but I have seen how you ache of late. I thought–perhaps incorrectly–that you would do well with a hot soak. I have put the good oils, the salt for your muscles and I would implore you to at least consider it before the water grows too cold.” You bow your head in deference, keeping your eyes on your feet as he stands there, silent. 

He says nothing for a long moment, and you thought the overstep might have been too far, even for him. 

“I will empty the tub and clean it, I beg of you to accept my apologies, Dominus.” You turn, crestfallen at your misstep to begin the process of emptying the tub when he stops you.

“No, forgive my dark mood, Girl. I am weary and you are right in your assessment. My back aches of late. This is probably exactly what I need.” His hand landed on your shoulder, a soft offering of peace. 

“Help me to undress, I will take advantage of the warmth of the water.” he doesn’t smile, but there is a deep weariness on his face and you rush to comply. Once he is completely nude and moving to step into the tub you stop him.

“Dominus—if you would give me just a moment to get most of the mud off of you, we could keep this water clean enough for you to soak.” You rush, bringing his basin and he nods once, watching silently as you dip fresh linen and quickly wipe him down. Once you are done he finally steps in, sinking with a groan to stretch out his legs and lean against the end of it. 

You keep the smile to yourself at the involuntary moan he lets out. 

“I will prepare something for you to eat while you relax, Dominus.” 

“Wait Girl, before all that, I would have you join me. Your healing touch would aid with my aches. Come.” He gestures to the water and you obey, your body responding to both the oasis you’ve cultivated, as well as the promise of his touch. 

He slides forward once you are nude and you slip in behind him. He wastes no time in leaning back into your chest, pulling your legs to bracket his ribs while he sighs into the feel of your hands on his shoulders. The water is perfect, hot enough to almost burn, the sweet smelling steam instantly calming any and all nerves and the reassuring press of him make it hard to stay humble about taking this chance.

The sounds of the water softly lapping mingle with his low sighs when you use the strength in your fingers to work the knots out of his shoulders. His eyes close and you continue your work, moving to the pieces of his back that you can reach, his arms and his sides, your nipples harden at the moan he lets out when you massage his scalp.

“Gods above Girl, I am rethinking this whole campaign.” His hands slide up your shins, slipping softly across your knees before moving back down, a comforting sweep as you focus on cleaning his chest. “I fear I may get too accustomed to this treatment, who would want to leave this to fight a war?” 

You smile to yourself, tilting his head back softly to rinse his hair.

“My heart fills with joy to know you are not angry with me for this Dominus.” You reach for a clean cloth just outside the tub and dip it into the water to scrub at his skin. “It hurt me to see you in pain.” Something about the water, about being wrapped around him gives voice to your feelings.

“I am ashamed at my earlier annoyance, this was very thoughtful, and much needed. I am blessed that you consider me thus.” He moves a little, slipping a little further up so your chin just sits on his shoulder, enough to watch what your hands do and when they slip low to what you can reach of his thighs, you graze his manhood. 

With gentle hands, you cleanse him there, softly slipping across the heft of him before moving lower to hold the weight of his sack in your hands. He groans low when he feels you exploring him, turning his head to where yours sits on his shoulder to press his lips to your temple.

You take it as encouragement and wrap your hands around his cock, preening at the way it grows in your palms. You turn towards his face and press your lips to his, chaste and he reciprocates, breaths humid and mingling while you stroke him under the water. 

He turns to watch your hands move, and you press your kisses to his neck. 

Wordlessly, he reaches down and guides your movements, his big palm covering yours. You let him show you, while your other hand moves to fondle his balls, rolling them and giving them the tiniest squeeze. He lets out a filthy moan before stilling your hands completely and for a moment you fear you may have overstepped again.

“Apologies Dominus—“ he turns, stopping your apologies.

“I would switch places with you now Girl, much as I enjoy your hand, I do not wish to spill into the water.”

You stand at his urging, and he guides you to carefully climb in front of him. No sooner are you settled than his hands slide around to hold onto the weight of your breasts. His lips press against your shoulder as his hands roam, from sliding against your pebbled nipples, down to sweep across the soft skin of your belly and then up to rub at your shoulders much in the same way you had done to him.

It was shockingly welcome, to feel the strength in his fingers working away at your own aches.

“I am to be tending to you, Dominus-“ it comes out as a relaxed sigh as he digs at a particularly sore spot.

“Hush Girl, let me do as I please.” There is no bite in his words, and you smile to yourself as you melt under his touch.

After a while, his touch takes a turn and you feel him reach down to pull your legs up and over his thighs. He dips the tips of his fingers over the lips of your sex, spreading them open lewdly under the water. Your cunt blooms under his ministrations, even submerged he can feel the slip of your arousal coating his fingers as he hones in on the pert little pearl of you. 

“How I miss this little cunt while I’m off fighting, do you know that Girl? Do you know how hard I fight to make my way back to this right here.” He spears his fingers inside, two, thick and full inside of you and you let out a whispery sigh at the feel of it. 

Wordlessly he builds you up, working you open while you lay on his chest, his heartbeat steady and calm under your ear, his thighs firm and strong under your hands. His thumb joins the fray, swirling around your clit and it pulls a louder moan from you, one that makes him cover your mouth with his other hand. 

“Hush Girl, would you have the whole camp hear you moaning for me?” His fingers speed up, giving birth to little waves that die at the edge of the tub. You breathed hard through your nose, heart racing to feel the way he controlled your body, the way his cock pressed hard and hot against your back. You could almost taste the salt as the water dripping from his hand crept into your mouth.

Your legs closed around his hand when you burst for him, ripe as a berry.

“That’s it, didn’t that feel good?” He pulls his hand away from your mouth, turning your face to kiss you while his fingers pumped through your flutters. 

“Yes Dominus, you always make it feel good.” You turn a little in his arms to kiss him harder, to lick into his mouth and despite him not giving you leave, you move to straddle him. “I want to make you feel good now, may I?” You slip against him, your cunt sliding against his cock in the cooling water. 

“Yes Girl, so long as you can keep quiet. I would keep those pretty moans for my ears, and my ear alone.” His hands grab at your ass and you nod while lining him up, sinking onto him with a little gasp.

Wordlessly he pressed his face against your chest, while wrapping his arms around your ribs, the muscles in his arms flexing, slippery and warm.

It’s a soft roll, low tide and a calm ocean the way you fuck him. 

The water, the warmth, his reassuring hold, the sweet smelling scents, the campground full of soldiers separated from you by mere tents alone, all of these things add to the heightening of your senses. Something about the way you’d initiated this whole encounter, a bath he didn’t plan or want is the catalyst for the low moans he breathes against your skin. 

You relish it, you crave it, you need it. Just as he wants the sounds of your pleasure to be his, you want his pleasure to be yours. 

“Give it to me Dominus, please, I desire it, reward me-“ you tilt his face up, almost whispering the words into his mouth as you clench on the downstroke. 

 “It’s yours Girl, take it, it’s all yours—my good, obedient, thoughtful Girl, my favourite Girl, my only Girl—“ he buries his face into the crook of you neck and lets out an almost strangled sound when you feel it. His cock almost swells harder still for a moment before he paints your insides with his seed. 

You clench around him, drawing out his pleasure until he hisses with a low laugh, grabbing at your ass in playful reprimand. 

“You will be the death of me, Girl.” He smiles, tired and satiated as he adorns your neck with kisses, moving lower to take a nipple into his mouth. 

“Shall I prepare your meal now Dominus?” You slick his hair back, moving the tendrils that had fallen into his eyes while he continues his worship of your breasts. He hums around the stiff peak, focused and for a moment you think he might want to wait until he can take you again. 

“Something quick, we are not done yet, and the water grows cold. I would have you on your back next, Girl.” You cannot help but smile as you nod. 

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[gladiatorcunt]

- APOLLO REACHES FOR THE SEA | V.

under my skin’s an intrinsic shrine

cw: kinktober prompt (s) - scent & food play, canon typical obsessive behavior, anankin & reader are both 20, reader has a pussy, more suggestive, friends to lovers, drunk-ish sex, unprotected sex, implied angst of the series’s canon events, aotc!era but pre actual aotc events, dead dove do not eat

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Ani, watch out! You’re going to spill the plums!” You giggle, ushering him in the quarters you share with your Master Shaak Ti.

It’s late at night, a rare day without missions as you both get closer to knighthood. So Anakin had casually suggested swiping some food from the food stalls in the city and having a sleepover, just like old times. You’d known each other since he had come to the temple 12 years ago, and you can admit that you’ve been missing the hours you used to waste away laughing and dreaming of your futures as Jedi Masters. You had bonded over wanting to help people and become powerful enough to stop tragedy from happening, he’s whispered things to you that he fears Obi-Wan Kenobi would flay him alive for.

He’s the only one that knows anything about your family, what you ran to the Jedi Order from. You’re not allowed to have personal belongings from that time of your life, but you slipped a good luck charm in the folds of Anakin’s tunic on your 14th birthday and pecked his lips before darting off to your sparring session with your Master.

Perhaps it’s a panic response, clinging to these brief silver linings when you can sense his force signature darkening. Anakin does what you wish you could, deep down, how can you judge his heart when it’s other half aches in your chest?

“You think too little of me, Scyva.” Ani grins, balancing the tray in the crook of his arm as he follows you to your room.

Scyva, because that’s what an edgy prepubescent you had insisted on if he was going to call you a name derived from the Old Gods. In truth, it made you terribly shy that he wanted to call you Aivela, that he still does after he gives you the bare minimum of saying the name you wanted first.

“Well,” he had ‘hmph’ed back then, “Then I’ll be Izax, because that’s Scyva’s husband.”

So simple, so assured, like it was the most obvious declaration in the world to make. Playing house with forces beyond your understanding in their clothes.

Your cheeks warm as you recall the memory, you close your door hoping that Masters Shaak Ti and Obi-Wan will be delayed more than you thought.

Anakin had also managed to finesse a couple of cups of Jawa Juice from Dex’s Diner, “Master’s a good friend of his, but he won’t rat us out.”

Both of those cups are gone and empty within minutes, the pair of you doped up on the sizzling connection between you. This unbreakable bond that formed all those years ago, it’s like all your pains and troubles fade away when you’re near Anakin. He’s told you the same, with an imploring look in his doe eyes, begging you without words to understand what that must mean. Why you two are so clearly meant for each other.

He’s the chosen one, he teased you when you were 15 and had lost round after round to him in training, the force wouldn’t want it’s son to be without a chosen one of his own.

You were 16 and learning how to swim together, you had forgotten how but Anakin held you up in the water like he had been doing it all his life. You pecked his lips again then too, that’s all you ever did, the farthest you went. To do more would be to open up durasteel gates that would flood Coruscant in sparks and wet wires.

You shrug off the outer layers of your tunic, plopping down on your bed and sighing, “I could never think more of you if I tried, Ani.”

Give Anakin Skywalker a pearl and he’ll turn it into a Greater Krayt Dragon.

His seemingly stuck grin widens and he clamors onto the bed to lie right beside you, “Yeah? Typical of my biggest fan.”

Your arms brush together and a sudden jolt of fire burns down your throat.

You roll your eyes, picking up a plum and biting into it, ignoring the bob of Anakin’s adam’s apple and the flash of arousal in the force.

You don’t know why, but you make eye contact as you finish the piece of fruit, making an extra effort to lick some of the purplish-red juice off your bottom lip.

Anakin shuffles closer and reaches out to rub away what you missed with his thumb. Your breath hitches, the air in the room is shifting to something you can’t even say you didn’t anticipate or secretly wish for. Ani’s always so warm, every part of him, and the comfort his coarse finger tip brings to your often bitten lip lights a candle in your soul.

Neither of you say anything as he brings his other closer to your hip, his fingers ghosting along the curve like he’s afraid to touch you, that you’ll disappear if he lets himself buy into the delusion that he can have something so sacred. Anakin Skywalker doesn’t buy, he gets bought, but every teasing moment over the years does some serious damage to a 20 year old guy’s psyche. Maybe you should think of it like sparring, you can’t improve without throwing yourself into the fray.

The kiss he plants on you isn’t anywhere close to one of your previous “friendly” pecks, it’s ravenous. He’s enthusiastic, moving to sink his thumbs into the divots under your jaw so he can tilt your head up. He moans into it too, heady and smug with every caress of your lips and every wet pop signaling you pulling away to breathe or change your position.

“Fuck, you taste so good, Aivela.” Anakin hisses, eagerly yanking the rest of your robes off in between more kisses and briefly separating to toss them unceremoniously on the floor.

You moan, sliding your hands up his bare back and pulling at hair that’s not quite long enough to tug like you want to, “So do you, Ani, force-”

He cuts you off by snaking his tongue in your mouth, cleaning your teeth from the dark mess of the plum juice, which only stains you both even further. His arousal in the force grows and you can feel his dick twitch against your hip, the bond tells you that he loves being messy with you, that it feels right to be this real and uninhibited with each other. To be this raw.

“You ruin me, you know that? I’m trying so hard to be perfect. For you, for Obi-Wan, for the council, for my mom.”

It’s easy at this moment, with this boy, to be damningly honest. “ You’re already perfect to me, Ani, there’s nothing about you I would change.”

You’ll always love the 9 year old boy who became your first friend, and you became his, every version of him after that only fleshes him out and waters the underestimated sapling into a massive tree with nonflammable roots.

Anakin shudders when you say he’s perfect, the feeling of being indulged and complimented by a friend who he’s spent countless nights jerking off to, muffling his whines and groans into his pillow so Obi-Wan doesn’t suspect anything. But knowing his master, he probably already knows and is discussing it with your master right now.

You pick up on his train of thought, “You don’t have to be so paranoid, Ani. You don’t know for sure that anything bad is going to happen.”

He nods and shrugs it off, storing that opportunity to spiral away for later. You exclaim in surprise as he dives in to kiss you again. The kisses are hotter now, heavy and sloppy with intention. Anakin waves a hand around trying to find the tray of plums without breaking away from you, he eventually fumbles onto it and yanks it to push into your hip.

You pull back in confusion, but Anakin smiles and pushes you to fall on your back with his hand splayed out across your chest.

He takes a plum and bites off half of it, leaning down to share it with you as he crushes the other half above your body, honing in on the squelching sound and passing you bits of the plum from his tongue to yours.

“I’ve had dreams of a goddess of love on a lonely planet in the future, a god too, and they look just. like. you.” He draws back and punctuates each word with a swipe of his tongue through the plum juice on your ribs.

You hear more than see the sniff he takes of your skin, deep lung fulls of the fruity hints in your natural musk. He humps into the mattress and his cock twitches, your belly clenches when he flicks droplets of sweat off of you, the pink in his bunny tongue winking up at you in the low light.

You relax against your pillows and run a hand over his hair as he busies himself with drinking the plum juice off your body like body shots. You bask in his pulsing force signature and the tantalizing sight of your best friend Ani humping his gorgeous cock on the chub gathered on your lower stomach.

You feed him more plums, moaning as he slurps at your fingers and sucks them clean, wrapping his lips around them down to the knuckle. A bright yellow thank you rings out in the force. He’s messy on purpose, letting bits fall out of his mouth onto your tummy, just so he can take another hit off your skin and clean the juice up. He licks long flat stripes up your soft stomach, making sure you're watching as he moans and swallows down every drop.

Anakin’s pupils are twin black holes, and he actually smiles when the teasing gets to be too much to handle and you send out your desire for him to move downwards into the force. His teeth are almost sharp in this lightning, your breaths are shallow and he scrapes them over the top of your mound.

“Smells amazing.” He moans and tries to press a kiss to each little hair he finds. “ ‘s gonna be way better than some fuckin’ plums. Love you so much, Scyva, Nahut..”

Goddess of sorrow, you don’t know how you bring him to his knees.

God of apathy, hated by all but the other part of you, there’s something dark unfurling in you too.

Your half heart skips a beat. It’s probably just the Jawa Juice, you reason, even though Anakin jumps out of speeders more often than not and is so damn reckless he can handle a cup of fermented grains. You yourself feel buzzed, pleasantly tipsy in a way that only enhances the sensation of physical touch.

“You trust me?” Ani asks, long fingers poised to slip into your hole, he won’t give in until you learn to use your words.

No more beating around bush, instead more busting the fuck through that thing.

“You’re the only one I trust.”

The force flares around you, endlessly pleased.

He returns to sucking the juice off your skin as he dips two of his fingers inside at once. Sue him for being impatient, but he’s getting everything he’s ever wanted right now. By what the force is telling him, so are you. You gasp at the little sting, but you let your legs go lax against the sheets, spreading yourself wider for him.

Anakin takes a second to gawk in awe at the view, your wet hole clinging to his fingers as he slowly pumps them deeper into you. You’re both so glad he didn’t beg Dex for more Jawa Juice, there’s no way you can run from this memory forever. He picks up his dry humping, whimpering as his precum falls on your favorite blanket.

He tosses his head back to stare into your eyes and grinds against your tummy like his dick is where his fingers are. You’re nodding, making the cutest little hiccups and tensing your thighs, resisting the urge to squeeze them around his arm. Anakin chuckles as he feeds you the other two fingers, imagine how wide your entrance would stretch around his entire fist.

Your pussy flutters around his fingers and he hunches his back to be able to kiss your clit hello, taking a whiff of that too before suckling. You keen and he takes his mouth off of you, massaging your slick into his golden skin.

He moans and drives his tip further into your plush curves, circling his thumb on your clit until you both tumble over the edge. It’s not a mind shattering orgasm for either of you, too little stimulation and too pliant from the booze, but that’s okay. That won’t be the only time you’ll cum tonight, and this time it’ll feel so good the force rebuilds itself around the two of you, Anakin will do his very best to blame going in raw on intoxication.

That’s what you’ll blame for clawing at his ass and hooking your heels into his back to keep all of him inside of you, like the force itself won’t let him pull out to sleep. You’ll figure out what to do in the morning. But for now, Anakin is grabbing your hand and leading you into the fresher.

The plum tray clatters to the floor.

[bet-on-me-13]

Reincarnation AU but it's not Danny

So! In basically every single Reincarnation AU I've seen, it's always Danny who gets reincarnated as a DC character. Sometimes it's Jazz, other times it's his Friends, but it never really strays from them. And I think we've been ignoring some people...

The Ancients! Danny is always reincarnated as a "Vacation" from his Ghost King Duties, so why not give the same courtesy to the other Ancients?

Specifically, Fright Knight.

Fright Knight has been a loyal servant and Knight of his Master for Millenia. Ever since he first formed as the Autumn Spirit, the Embodiment of Fear, the Fright Knight, he had declared his Servitude to the Ghost King, whomever it may be at the time. And he stayed in that position, through the passing of the Crown, through the Violent Coups, through every single Ghost King who had taken to the mantle. He was their Loyal Knight. Never Wavering. Never leaving their side.

Until Pariah Dark, but that situation was different. No previous King had even tried to take the human world before.

Thankfully, Pariah had only taken the Throne for a mere 5000 years, so he had not had to put up with him for long, and much of that time was with him stuck in his Coffin. That was the first time Fright Knight had ever left his Masters Side.

Then, that insolent Halfa he had met before came into the picture and Fright Knight had a new master.

King Phantom was...different.

Perhaps it was his remaining Humanity poking through? Or was it was the influence of the Human Realm that he still regularly visited? Or maybe he was simply just a Good Person, and there was no deeper meaning behind it?

Either way, Fright Knight noticed that he cared for his subjects in a far deeper manner than any previous king had. He had personal connections with as many Ghosts as he could, and often called the Ghosts he ruled his, Friends. It warmed his Long Frozen Core to see a King valuing his Subjects as much as he did.

He did not realize that the kindness Phantom extended to his people, also extended to himself.

One day, Phantom had been discussing his Human Life with some of his friends. Not his First Life, but his most recent Vacation. Over the Eons since he had taken the Throne, Phantom had been encouraged to take a Vacation every once in a while. It was not healthy for a Ghost to work non-stop like he did, especially for a Halfa.

It was not an uncommon practice in the Realms, many would take a break from the Endlessness of Death to embrace Life once more through Reincarnation. Although, many were too weak to retain their memories upon their second Forming. Mostly, it was Ancients or Kings who would use this as a Vacation, rather than a New Beginning.

There came a break in the conversation, and King Phantom turned his attention to his Knight. "Frighty, when was the last time you Reincarnated? Pandora did so recently, and it got me thinking."

"I have not taken leave of my post for thr Eons since my Forming, My Lord" Replied the Knight with Pride.

"What? You haven't taken a Break since you formed!? Frighty! That's not Healthy!" Exclaimed his King.

This lead to a whole conversation about how unhealthy his lifestyle was, which was another quirk of his Master. He cared for his Sunjects beyond their happiness.

"Fright Knight, as your King and as your Friend, I implore you to take a Vacation. It doesn't have to be forever, just a simple Human Lifespan, but please take a break, for your own Good."

And how could he refuse a request like that? One based in the kindness that his Majesty always showed his Subjects.

It took a few more years to finally iron out the plan for his Vacation, but what are a few years in the face of Eternity?

Finally, it came time to take his leave to the Mortal Realm, and to Life itself.

"Farewell, my Leige." Bowed Fright Knight, "I thank you for this opportunity."

"There's no need to thank me. Now go, and have fun, My Dark Knight."

...

That day, in Gotham General Hospital, a baby was born.

"What will you name him?" Asked the Doctor.

"I think I'll call him..." Began the need Mother, "...Bruce. Bruce Wayne."

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Submission

Photography Professor!Fem!Reader x subby!student!Wanda

Word count: 1,060

Warnings: student teacher relationship, established relationship, W submits to R

Her eyes watched you from afar twice a week. Green emeralds trained on you as you walked back and forth talking about various photography methods. Today was specifically about filling a frame and how to do so properly. 

As you continued to impart your knowledge on framing techniques, you couldn't help but notice how Wanda's dedication shone through her unwavering focus. Her presence in the classroom was a testament to her commitment to the craft. Her every movement calculated and deliberate, as if each second spent in your lecture, was a precious opportunity not to be squandered.

You knew some of these students were taking this class as an art elective, but  this semester you had a good amount of actual photography majors one of them being Wanda Maximoff whose eyes don’t leave you the entire three hours of your lecture.

During the breaks, while other students dispersed, Wanda remained rooted in her seat, her gaze fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on fascination. It wasn't just admiration; there was something deeper in those emerald eyes, a hunger for knowledge, perhaps, or maybe a recognition of a kindred spirit in the realm of photography. 

You looked through your papers and notes while snacking on something that required one hand. Today, you had a small bag of popcorn, and you noticed she had some apple slices today, which made you smile. She was behaving and listened to you when you told her that she should have healthier snacks during classes. 

As it came up to the last hour of class, you began talking about a photo contest that everyone was welcome to enter into. You always loved contests and competitions. You especially loved seeing everyone’s submissions and the different approaches they would each take to different competitions.

“Alright class I think I’ve kept you waiting long enough. I’ll be passing out flyers for you to look over. The deadline is next Friday for the Fine Art Photography Competition. So, if you wish to participate, please hand in your photo to me before then, and if you’re picked, we will be going to Germany on an all expense paid trip. Your photo to be displayed for art critics and lovers alike to take notice of you. If you are chosen for some of you, this could be your big break into the art world.” You tell them, your heels clicking as you walk back and forth, your dark grey cardigan flowing behind you. 

“Is there any specific theme we need to work with?” One of your students, Jean Gray, asked with a raised hand. 

“No, so please, I implore you to work with your strong suits if you want to enter. The sky is the limit on this. Your eye and imagination are what will hold you back, but I believe in all of you.” You told them confidently and finished up answering any other questions before dismissing them for the day. “I will see you all on Tuesday. Have a good weekend, everyone.” 

They all filed out as you sat back at your desk, pushing your glasses up on top of your head as you look at the papers on your desk, reading through the students latest works and quizzes from Tuesday that needed to be done by next Tuesday along with ones needed tomorrow for your Monday, Wednesday, Friday classes. You hear a pair of boots walking towards you. You don’t have to look up to know who is standing in front of you,

“Yes Wanda can I help you?” You say keeping your gaze on the papers in front of you, marking them as you go and looking at the photographs that go with the assignments. Grading art, even after going through getting your Master of Fine Arts and teaching for a few years now, grading artwork wasn’t always so easy.

“Ms. Y/L/N...” You flick your eyes up just enough to see she’s playing with the hem of her skirt, pulling it up ever so slightly as she does so. You take your eyes off her thighs that you just want to bury your face in. You know better, though; not here, never here. Now she’s pulling her sleeves over her hands as she begins. “I...I want to enter the competition, but...” Her words trail off as you finally huff out, tearing your eyes away from your paperwork.

“Wanda. Words. Use them.” You say a little frustrated with her. You see her bite her lip, and for you that’s strike three of her anxious habits. “Come here.” You command, moving yourself back from the desk, turning your chair to the side so she can stand in front of you, which she does without need for more words. “Kneel.” You tell her, and she does so. You smile at her easy submission to you. She had always been so pliable for you. “There now that you’re where you belong. Do you feel better?” You ask, tilting her chin up so her eyes meet with your own.

“Yes.” She smiles up at you, you can see how she’s calmed just from the small form of dominance over her, sometime it was all she needed for her head to clear up and the thoughts to quiet down even if it’s only for a little bit.

“Good now, what is it about the photo competition that’s bothering you so much, sweet girl?” You ask, running your fingers through her hair as she sets her chin against your thighs. She gently tilts her head so she can look up at you.

“Well my specialty like yours is boudoir photography. Is it okay to submit something like that?” You smirk, continuing to run your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scratch gently at her scalp. She closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling.

“Yes just not too risky, okay, pretty girl? Also, the picture better not be of you. Your body is my eyes only.” You tell her, and she smiles with a nod. “I need to get back to these papers and you,” You boop her nose, “need to get to your next class so off you go little one. I’ll see you tonight.” She smiles, getting up. You pull her back in for a chaste kiss before letting her head off with the promise of seeing you later.

[pascaloverx]

DEVIL (+18)

Summary: You are a demonic creature, capable of doing whatever you please, whenever you wish. Your goal on Earth is to terrorize as many souls as possible. Until, in a small community, you find the perfect victim for your mischievous games: Father Charlie Mayhew.

Author's Note: Frankly, I just needed to write something about this character portrayed by Nicholas Alexander Chavez. The character and others, apart from Y/N, are not my creation. They belong to the Grotesquerie (2024) universe created by Ryan Murphy. So, dear readers, I must say I didn’t expect to write more than one chapter for this fanfic. But here we are now at the third chapter. I’d love to know if you’d like more chapters or if you’re satisfied so far. Depending on how this chapter performs, I’ll bring you more sinful priest content. I’ve also been considering the possibility of writing another fanfic featuring Dr. Charlie Mayhew (those who follow Grotesquerie may already know him). If you’re interested, feel free to comment. Thank you to everyone who reads my fic. See you soon!

Content Warning: This chapter contains adult language as well as adult content.

TWO

THREE

"Free yourself from Father Mayhew, demon. There is nothing more pathetic than being emotionally involved with a mere sinful mortal. Kill him, soon." The message arrives in a self-destructing letter, signed by the dark master, as if it were meant to intimidate you. You let out a laugh, dismissing the threat with a wave of your hand. You’ll part with your priest when you choose, not even Satan himself will sway your decision. The warm water envelops you, fragrant bubbles rising around you as you sip your wine, savoring the luxurious moment. It’s a reminder of your power, of the pleasures you can indulge in. As the warmth seeps into your bones, you can’t help but think of Father Mayhew, his struggles, and the delicious chaos you’ve woven into his life. This game has only just begun.

Until his voice fills the space, your priest is calling out for you. “Forgive me, Father, but I wish to continue sinning. I miss the demonic essence of the sinful creature that invades my mind every morning and night. I will not deceive you; I want that demon for myself, just as I fear that I no longer belong to my Blessed God, but rather to her. She has infected me, like a disease. She inhabits my skin, as if she seeks to dominate me. If it is your will, quench the thirst I have for her lips. Erase the memory of her skin against mine, but I implore you, Almighty God, bring her back to me.” You’ve avoided him for days since your last encounter, as it should be. Otherwise, it would seem like you are taking his side, sparing him from the consequences of his desires. The game continues, and you revel in the anticipation of his next move. Each prayer, each desperate plea only deepens your resolve, drawing you back into his world. The tension between sin and devotion creates a thrilling dynamic that you can’t ignore.

Suddenly, the taste of alcohol in your wine no longer intoxicates you. You crave the taste of him on your lips. He is not the only one feeling sick; you sense that he is infecting you as well. Resisting temptation is becoming nearly impossible. You step out of the bath, hair still damp, contemplating your next move. A red dress lies on your bed, paired with matching heels on the floor of your room. It is time to go and make a confession.

You slip into the dress, feeling the fabric hug your form perfectly, and the heels elevate your presence, transforming you into a vision of temptation. The mirror reflects a figure that embodies both allure and danger, a demon ready to weave her spell once more. You arrive at the church abruptly, using your powers to teleport to the entrance of the sacred space. The familiar scent of incense and polished wood surrounds you as you step inside, the heavy doors closing silently behind you.

The priest Mayhew stands before the altar, clad in leather pants that leave his butt exposed, as if he has emerged from the depths of the most sinful fantasy. He wears a sheer lace nightgown that accentuates his form, embodying an alluring mix of innocence and decadence. As he extinguishes the flickering candles, there is an air of temptation surrounding him, making the scene both captivating and provocative.

He hears the thunderous sound of the doors closing behind you, turning to look at you as if he’s about to melt under your gaze. A sly smile plays on your lips as you approach him slowly, without uttering a word. With each step you take toward him, he seems to lose his breath, anticipation palpable in the air. "Are you really here?" he whispers as you come to stand before him, his hand gripping the candle snuffer tightly.

You gaze at him from head to toe, using your powers to reignite all the candles once more. "The way you’re speaking, it sounds like you've been hallucinating about me, Father Mayhew," you say, bringing your face closer to his to murmur, "I prefer the flames lit, if you don't mind." Then, you gently take the candle snuffer from his trembling hands.

"I feared you’d never return, that I'd lost the chance to…" Father Mayhew begins, though he trails off, seeming entranced by your scent as he closes his eyes, breathing you in deeply. You toss the candle snuffer into a distant corner of the church, feeling the candlelight’s warmth casting a glow over your skin. "So much fear that you resorted to prayer to bring me closer?" you say, your words nearly brushing his lips. His eyes open, meeting yours, as if filled with something unsaid, struggling to form the words he dares not speak.

"I didn’t know who else to turn to, to have you near again. And talking to God is… well, what I do best, so I thought it was worth a try," Father Mayhew says, a trace of a seductive smile on his lips, unable to hide his excitement.

"Are you aware that your request was never heard by your God, but rather by a far lower realm? That's why I'm here." Your gaze remains serious as he processes this revelation, realization dawning in his eyes. His expression, rich with guilt and desire, compels you to place your hands on his face, your thumbs tracing the edges of his lips, soft against his skin. His eyes drift shut as he leans into your touch, surrendering to the moment.

"I feel as though, to see you again, I’d set this place ablaze until nothing but ashes remained, demon. I wasn’t joking when I said you were infecting me," Father Mayhew’s voice is low, gravelly, as though he desperately wants you to understand his sincerity. When he opens his eyes, it’s as if he’s allowing you to glimpse the turmoil inside him, a fragile resolve on the brink of surrender. You lean towards him, licking between his lips.

"Let me be your faith, your cure; I promise, Father, I’ll show you how serving a darker purpose can be… fulfilling," you murmur, brushing a brief, enticing kiss over his lips. His eyelids flutter weakly, as if each blink is his attempt to convince himself this is real. Suddenly, you feel his strong arm around your waist, drawing you close until you're pressed against him, his breath warm and heavy against your neck. The sweet scent of him fills your senses, leaving no doubt of his surrender as he pulls you into this forbidden embrace.

"Take me as yours, sinner. Possess me, demon. I've wanted to know what it is to belong to you since the moment you set foot in my church," Father Mayhew breathes, closing the distance between you with no hesitation. His lips find yours in a fervent kiss, his tongue tracing over yours as if to claim you entirely, the intensity of his need nearly overwhelming. It’s as if, in this moment, he truly believes you both could merge into one, the heat of it igniting between you in an almost unbearable way. You're almost impatient, you need to feel him. It seems for a moment that he understands this, as he He lifts you up with his arms, you leaning on his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist. His lips still against yours as he carries you to one of the church benches. He sits down, positioning you on his lap. His hands make their way inside your dress, and yes, he holds your ass firmly.

"Father, I have sinned. I believe there is a suitable punishment for me so that I may be forgiven." You speak in a sly way as if to provoke him, seeing Father Mayhew's eyes darker, with a slight air of perversion. He grabs your ass tightly, moaning close to your ear as your pussy rubs lightly under his cock. You pull his hand towards you, removing it from your ass, and licking two of his fingers. You taste Father Mayhew's fingers while keeping your gaze fixed on him. You then guide his fingers inside your pussy. As soon as his cold fingers enter you, you let out a moan, still holding his hand to go deeper into your pussy.

"Tell me what punishment you think is appropriate for a nefarious sinner like you. Show repentance and you will be forgiven,"Father Mayhew is sticking his fingers deep inside you, who were slowly losing your sanity. Sometimes you rolled over Father Mayhew's fingers hoping to feel him even deeper inside you. The speed at which his fingers were fucking you was supernatural, you could feel how hard Father Mayhew's cock was getting just from you bouncing under his fingers. His available hand was helping you with the movements, helping you arch your body more while holding your waist. Your hands at that moment were wrapped around his shoulders, almost grabbing his neck. At some point when his fingers entered faster, you almost let out a groan, pulling Father Mayhew's hair back, leaving his neck arched in front of you. You reached down to the exposed area of his neck and took hold of it, biting down hard as Father Mayhew continued to finger fuck you. He let out a low moan that sounded like he was enjoying the feeling of your teeth digging into his skin.

In an erotic way, he murmurs "You can taste my blood and satisfy all my desires, demon." It's like he's giving himself more and more to you, which makes you even more horny for him. Bobbing up and down on his fingers with an animalistic ferocity, you feel Father Mayhew's skin cut into your mouth as you sink your teeth into his neck. The sweet taste of his blood fills your mouth, at times like these, you wish you were a vampire and drank all the warm blood of your sweet Father Mayhew.

"Father Mayhew, if I could explain to you what it feels like to take you in this way, rest assured, all the demons would be lining up to taste it." You say pushing yourself even harder against Father Mayhew's fingers until he begins to gently massage your clit while fingering you. You find yourself moaning out countless curse words as you hold onto Father Mayhew until you cum all over his fingers. Your satisfaction is so great that you immediately capture his lips with yours in a breathtaking kiss. For a moment it seems like you're battling to see who can leave the other breathless. His tongue exploring every part of your mouth while his fingers are still buried in your pussy. The taste of his blood that was in your mouth becoming predominant, making the kiss even wilder. As soon as his lips leave yours, you feel a desperation for more. He removes his fingers from inside you and, keeping his gaze fixed on you, licks his fingers covered in your cum.

"You may be a demonic creature but you taste heavenly, demon." He murmurs close to your ear as he finishes tasting you. You hold his face in your hands and then give him a kiss, more calmly. You pull yourself out of his lap between kisses, heading towards the lit candles. Father Mayhew quickly removes his garment, throwing his clothes on the church floor. You slowly walk towards him with the candle in your hands, feeling the heat of it warming your hand. He is naked, with an erect cock.

"You know, Father Mayhew, one of the best parts about being involved with a demon is the countless ways you can explore new experiences," you whisper, settling into your Father Mayhew's lap. Since you came to church without panties, as soon as you sit on him, his cock enters your wet pussy, almost sliding inside it. You both moan from the delicious sensation of feeling each other.

"Let's see if you like this one..." You say, giving him a long kiss, feeling him completely surrendered to you. Holding the lit candle under his neck, as the candle melts, burning Father Mayhew's skin, you hear him let out a pained grunt. He lifts his face towards you, holding tightly onto your waist as he feels the pain. You're enjoying yourself, but as soon as the candle melts once more, you run your tongue over the parts of his body that the candle hurt. He shivers at the sensation of your tongue moving from his neck to his chest but seems relieved when the pain subsides.

"You will be the death of me, demon." Father Mayhew speaks and then kisses you aggressively, as if he is thirsty for your lips. He bites your lip as he kisses you, as if he wants to return the pain you caused him in such an erotic way. You then grind under his cock, making him throw his head back with the pleasure of feeling his cock entering your pussy even further. It's delicious to see him lost in lust, so you start to move up and down on his cock. He holds his arms around your waist as if he is holding you to him while you ride his cock almost madly. His moans make you almost overflow with pleasure as you ride his cock like you're riding a horse. Father Mayhew at one point removes his hands from your waist and tears your dress with his hands, right at the neckline. Your breasts are on display, which seems to be his goal. He puts his hands around your breasts, pinching the tips of your nipples. You let out a drawn-out moan as you feel his cock filling you and the delicious sensation of his hands stimulating your breasts. His lips begin to bite one of your breasts, sometimes biting the nipple, sometimes sucking. The feeling of his tongue on your skin is devilishly delicious, his soft lips delighting in your breasts, while he starts licking the other breast while stimulating the other with his fingers. The rhythm of your bouncing on his cock increases as you feel yourself coming again and you want to give Father Mayhew the same feeling. Your pussy is taking Father Mayhew's cock so well that it doesn't take long before you both cum, moaning loudly as his cum finally fills you. For a second you both stare at each other, breathless and surrendered to each other. He smirks as he stands up from the church pew, his cock still inside you, carrying you with him.

"Blow out the candles, demon," he whispers close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Using your powers, you blow out the candles, only for Father Mayhew to throw the candles along with other religious items that were under a table onto the floor.

"What are you doing, Father Mayhew?" you ask, genuinely wondering what he wants. He rests your ass on the table, using it as support to then put his cock in you, with more precision. He slowly thrusts his cock into your pussy while holding your legs so you don't fall. His nails scratching all the way from your feet to your thighs. You grip his hair tightly, pulling it back as Father Mayhew begins to pick up speed in his thrusts.

"I'm giving you reasons not to take so long to come back, memorable memories to keep you tied to me." He says, looking at you, while he thrusts his cock into your pussy without mercy. You then hold Father Mayhew's ass as you feel your orgasm come, feeling him fuck you so good. Father Mayhew's cock enters you deep in one swift motion and you cum, squeezing his ass hard. Your legs are already weak even though you are not human, your body behaves like a human body. Still, you wrap your legs around Father Mayhew's waist as if urging him to finish what he started. He captures your lips with his as he thrusts his cock into you two more times before cumming while still kissing you. Then he rests his head on your shoulder, clearly exhausted. And for a moment it's like you're between heaven and hell. He desecrating the sacred environment and breaking celibacy, you ignoring hell's orders to capture his soul.

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

corrupt!Satoru refuses to let go of his little sorcerer girlfriend when he becomes a vessel: Sure things have changed a bit.. Okay, a fucking lot. He's been put on a temporary leave by Yuji and the others till they can figure out a reverse. Which unfortunately for you means he's got all that time in the world to focus on your guy's relationship. "Y/n!" The unanticipated shout of your name almost makes you jump out your fuckin skin, quickly scarfing down a scolding hot piece of bacon so you don't choke. Dammit, you thought you could enjoy a nibble of breakfast before having to appease your master boyfriend. You pray to any God with a heart that Satoru wasn't too pissed at you for not being by his side when he awoke. From the goosebumps creeping down your neck and eerily sudden silence surrounding you, it's an obvious useless hopeless wish. "Why the fuck weren't you next to me when I woke up? Did I not say havin you by my side at all time keeps me from becoming.. Murderous?" The sudden presence and growled query compels you to spin around, starin up at him with wide frightened eyes. He's shirtless, gazing back with an unreadable expression as his magnificent morning wood bulges obscenely. "T-toru, I -" His hand damn near teleports to hold you firm around your slender brown neck. "Know what? I don't really feel like hearin whatever pathetic excuse is about to fall from those cute lips, baby. On your knees." He tells you, pushin you down with one hand while pullin his dick from his dark grey joggers with the other. You comply, eyes teary at how he glares down at you menacingly. "Better not disappoint me twice this morning, y/n. No tellin what I might do.." He warns, head falling back as he slips his dick into your mouth with a sinister smile on his pretty face.

corrupt!Gojo monitors the fuck outta who you talk to and where you go: If he can't have you near him 24/7, he NEEDS to know 1. Where you're goin; 2. Who's gonna be there; and 3. When the fuck you're comin home to him. "You're late. Fuck are you, little girl?" You're never gonna get used to the snarl that consistently stains his tone, even when he's not irritated. You're late coming back from what was supposed to be research on a curse, so Satoru calls you. "Just by a few minutes. I'll be there soon." You assure him, pullin your cell from your cheek briefly to check the time. "I didn't ask how late you are; I asked where you were." You don't waste a second droppin a pin. There's a bit of shuffling over the phone before he speaks again. "I'm on my way to pick you up. Stay where you are. Better be alone like you said, y/n." The line clicks dead as you heave a heavy sigh, makin sure not move an inch till you see Satoru pull up.

corrupt!Satoru doesn't do well with anyone besides himself being mean to you: Slamming your front door shut upon entering, you stomp towards your bedroom as tears of frustration leak from your eyes. You don't make it past the couch in the living room before Satoru's sittin down on it, perching you in his lap. "Who fuckin did it, baby? Huh? Tell me! I'll rip their fuckin head off." His gruesome words don't match the soft imploring look in his piercing eyes; you miss that look so much that the truth spills from your lips without a thought. "I thought I'd make it to Grade 2 today.. It didn't happen. They brought in someone new. Some jerk that failed me cause I wouldn't let him touch me." Your hands slap over your mouth, the last sentence accidentally comin out before you can think. That unreadable expression graces his features before you end up face down in the couch, panties swiftly pulled to your thighs as he eats your poor unsuspecting lil puss from the back. "What the fuuuuuck? Toru, ah! S-satoru, wait. Please just- ohmyGod!" Ofcourse he ignores you. Slurps ya cunt so good that you cum in under a minute. Only then do you get a response. "Get the fuck up. We're goin back up there. Gonna have a lil chat with Mr. New Guy." He commands you, landing one more lick up your slit and a harsh slap to your ass. You leveled up that day. And Mr. New Guy was gone by the next. Yuji and the others don't bother standing in Satoru's way.

corrupt!Satoru loves marking your body and staking his claim: He doesn't think a day should pass before he's adding a new one to the collection. So he corners you when you're in the kitchen doin the dishes. "Hey gorgeous. Wanna make you cum real quick.." He mumbles, pressin up behind you. His hard cock humps your backside slow and firm as he fingers you through your itty bitty shorts. The first swipe has you poppin your ass back on his dick, keening Satoru's name like a fuckin banshee. "That the spot, princess? Yeah it is.. Know all your spots. Just like Daddy should, huh?" His tone is so cocky but you know better than to disagree and nod to his question anyway. "Yeeees, only you can make me feel like this. Always make me feel so goood, Toru." He soaks in your praise and at this point it's a givin that you've completely abandoned your task. A damp hand slides to the back of his head for a handful of his soft snowy locks as he nips and sucks at your neck. His sensual lips are one of your weaknesses; never fail to make you whimper like a bitch in heat. "Satoruuuuu.. Daddy please. Want some dick.." He chuckles at you, wonderin if you can even handle it- not like that would stop him. Still, your knees are already so you weak he has to hold you up, arms slung around your waist to plaster your back to his front. "Fuck baby, so pretty when you beg for my cock. Look even prettier when you let me claim you like this." Fine, he'll give you what you want. But first.. He pulls his lengthy dick out, your small shorts down, and slips it between your plushy brown ass cheeks. Your boyfriend's eyes nearly cross at the tight warm hold of you. Satoru pants and huffs, quickly starting off with short strokes that numb his mind. "I'm gonna fuck this perfect fat ass one day, y/n. Thats right, and you're not gonna be able to stop me. You can beg and cry and scream all you want.. Mmmfuck- but Daddy's not gonna listen, baby. Not one bit. I'm gonna keep goin till you squirt all over me from the feelin of it." Precum assists him slidin back and forth with ease, but his filthy words aid the throbbing in your clit and flutter in your gushy cunt. You only moan back in response to his dirty admission. Its okay. Satoru knows you always get like this: speechless when you're about to cum. Goddamn you turn him on so fuckin much. He bites at the sensitive spot on your throat, locking his teeth and groaning like a wild man. It makes you clench around his dick, him in turn pressin his digits with an accuracy that forces you to cum so good. "Good fuckin giiiirl, baby! So proud of you. Takin my mark and cummin on my hand- fuuuuuck. I own you, princess." Your quick wordless whines spur him on, fingers still yanking his hair viciously as your arousal spills to the kitchen floor. The sting of the pull has Satoru howling while he cums buckets in you. He's licking messily at the fresh bite on your neck as he smears his nut all over your plump ass. Fuck, you always make him buss so fuckin so hard! He's breathing fast, eyes flickin between where he paints you, your new bite mark and how fucked out you look even though you haven't had his dick yet. Speaking of, why the hell is he still so goddamn rigid? But you.. "You're so fuckin wet.." Satoru spears you on his cock without a second thought, your loud stunned cry makin a warmth shoot up his spine. He doesn't know when your hand joined the other in his hair, just cherishes how tight you grip at him when he fucks the rest of his cock into you. Appreciates and adores any and everything you have to offer. 'Shit.. Guess its time to put a baby in you.' Satoru thinks as he holds you round your waist and drills your lil puss as you shout out in surprised pleasure. Christ, he loves you so fuckin much and he's never letting you go.

corrupt!Satoru In layman's terms: He shows you that he is very fuckin possesive and owns you in every conceivable way.

[intynidad]

Would you mind writing about a yandere emperor who falls in love with a royal mage/sage who works for the empire?

I really enjoyed working on this request! I think it was a little longer than i was planning but i would love to continue exploring a more fantazy style world for my characters!!

Anyway here is what you asked!!

Yandere emperor x mage/sage reader

As you trailed behind your master, the esteemed sage of the kingdom, you couldn't help but feel dwarfed by the towering walls of the palace. Each step you took seemed small in comparison to the grandeur that surrounded you.

Your master had been summoned to attend a crucial meeting with the young emperor, who had recently ascended to the throne after the tragic loss of their mother, the late empress. The country was gripped by the ravages of a merciless plague, and the weight of responsibility rested heavily on the shoulders of the young ruler.

With each passing moment, the air seemed to grow heavier, carrying the weight of grief and uncertainty that plagued the nation. The palace, once a symbol of opulence and power, now held an air of somberness as it grappled with the aftermath of loss.

As you quickened your steps to keep up with your master's hurried pace, you couldn't help but wonder what role you would play in this meeting.

Your steps came to a halt as you stood before a towering door, its majestic presence adorned with glistening jewels and shimmering gold. The heavy doors slowly swung open, revealing a grand chamber bathed in soft light. As you stepped inside, your eyes fell upon a young man seated upon the magnificent throne, his regal demeanor exuding a mix of authority and youthfulness.

Your master, radiating confidence and wisdom, advanced with a steady stride towards the young emperor. Their years of knowledge and experience seemed to lend an air of respectability to the room, commanding attention and reverence. You, on the other hand, found yourself waddling nervously behind, feeling small and insignificant in the presence of such power.

The young emperor's gaze shifted from your master to you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. A momentary silence hung in the air, as if the weight of the world rested upon this encounter.

One thing you appreciated was the rule that the sages were the only people that didn't have to kneel when meeting a ruler, because you were sure that you would trip with your own feet if you tried to.

"Your majesty," your master began, their voice filled with a gentle yet commanding tone. "We have come in response to your personal summons, fully aware of the significance behind this audience."

The young emperor nodded solemnly, acknowledging the unspoken understanding between you all. The weight of the plague that ravaged the kingdom hung heavy in the air, an unspoken truth that reverberated within the depths of your being. Your mind brimmed with questions, thoughts swirling like a tempest, but caution held your tongue.

In that moment, as your master conversed with the emperor, your gaze met his fiery ruby eyes. It felt as if time stood still. The intensity in his gaze hinted at hidden depths, a soul burdened by the weight of responsibility and loss. There was something captivating about the way he held himself, an aura of strength and vulnerability intermingled.

“You may be wondering why i asked both of you to come here” the emperor said

“Me and my royal alchemist been working on an elixir to eliminate the plague once and for all, but we both lack the magic you sages poses to actually start producing it” the emperor looked at you “it should all work on theory, but without magic to start the process we are hand tied”

The emperor slowly started to descend the stairs, their eyes lock on you

“I know that i'm asking for a lot but please i implore that your apprentice stays in my kingdom as my royal mage and help me save my people”

Before you could speak your master put a hand on your back

“My apprentice will do their best”

With that your fate was seal, it was an honor to be able to work as a royal mage but being the royal mage of THE emperor was another level

Well this would be interesting…

————

Your magical abilities were no joke, the young emperor was more than impressed and with a few magic tricks and the alchemist abilities the plague was no longer around

But as the plague started to disappear something new was blossoming in the kingdom

The seed of love and the seeds of obsession…

The emperor started to notice small things about you, the way you said the magic word or how cute your focused face was when you studied your ancient book.

The emperor was walking towards your chambers with a fragrant rose in hand, his feelings were too much to bear and he needed to confess.

“Now that the plague is gone, what do you plan to do?” The emperor heard a voice coming from your chambers

“I don’t know…probably get back at my studies in the sage tower or something like that” the heart of the emperor sunk in realization.now that the plague was gone you had no other reason to stay in his kingdom.

“Maybe we could go together?, i mean only if you want too”

his despair quickly turned to anger as he recognized the voice of his alchemist responding in a flirtatious manner. The audacity of his own trusted alchemist making advances on you ignited a seething rage within the emperor. How dare they cross that line and attempt to pursue you?

He will not stand for it.

Quickly he went back to his own workshop, and there it was sitting on a small box…a virus

He never intendente to create it, it was an accident when he had tried to find a cure. Now it served a new propuse.

——

The relentless return of the plague had consumed your every waking moment, leaving you exhausted and desperate for a breakthrough.

A knock on your door shattered the silence, momentarily diverting your attention. Wearily, you called out, granting permission for the visitor to enter. The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway.the emperor

“How are you doing my dear mage?”

“As good as one can do with this predicament your majesty”even though you two had grown close you still wouldn’t call him by his name

“I see” he looked at you with heart eyes, even though you looked exhausted “i brought you a cup of tea, i thought you needed a little rest”

“Thanks your majesty, but i shall not rest, not when the people of your kingdom are suffering”

Oh you will be an amazing ruler, so preoccupied for your future subjects. He can’t wait for when he finally has you.

“Since you send your royal alchemist away its been more difficult to advance”

A-yes that, to the rest of the kingdom the alchemist was send away to investigate new cures but he knew the true, he send them a way to keep them away from you

“Don’t worry my dear,as long as we had each other we will be okay”

How he wishes that you would look at him the same way he looked at you, but he needed to be cautious of his actions, after all he was powerless against you if you ever decided to reveal yourself against him. But it was okay, when he managed to have you whining under him he will be sure that you wouldn’t think about that kind of things

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Kinktober request

23 (Degradation) with GN!R making a bet that they can beat Gojo in some spar, and that if they lose then Gojo can do whatever he wants with them.

Gojo accepts, wins, then degrades R while roughly throatfucking R with his huge cock.

Hello again! Since blowjob was another kink on the list, this was written with only the first part in mind.

Warnings: rough sex, derogatory name-calling

Degradation

--------

You should have known better before making this bet. Now you're suffering at the hands of Gojo who had no problem in turning into a fucking sadist now that he had free rein. The vibrator was snugly placed on a sensitive pleasure spot and you were writhing from its effects.

"Thought you were stronger than me huh you pathetic little whiner?" Satoru smirks down at your lowered position, on your knees at his feet. "I think you need to be taught a lesson so that you never make that assumption again."

He roughly grabs your hair and jerks your chin up. "Look at me. I want to watch how desperate you get as you get closer to orgasm."

You let out a pathetic whine like an injured dog as the vibrator brings you to a peak and you fall off the edge gasping, waves of pleasure wracking your body. Impressively, you manage to keep looking into Satoru's eyes while you climax despite how embarrassed it makes you feel. Your arousal fluids drip onto the floor from your spasming body. When the last dregs of pleasure wash away you look at him with imploring eyes hoping he'll remove the vibrator.

"Did I give you permission to cum?" Satoru asks in a dangerously low voice and you feel a thrill of fear and arousal spread through you. He clicks the vibrator off with the press of a button then strikes your ass, making you cry out. A red impression of his hand is visible on your round cheek.

"You're such a dumb whore, unable to follow simple instructions. And you've made such a mess on the floor." He gazes at the small puddle that had formed from your climax, then flips you over onto your back.

"And now you're a cum mop, and you're going to clean up the mess you made." He drags your body across the fluid, and you feel your back slicken as you pass over it. Once he's satisfied, Satoru leaves on the floor covered in your own juices and starts the vibrator again. You shriek at the high intensity, body being pushed into overstimulation.

You knew you wouldn't last long and tears form in your eyes. "Master...please..."

"Please what you useless slut?"

"Please let me cum..." You struggle against the toy trying not to cum before he gave you permission.

"Oh, the dumb little cunt knows how to ask for permission! Very good!" Satoru claps sarcastically and your body tenses, quivering from the effort of holding in your orgasm.

"Fine, go ahead and cum. It's the only thing you're good for anyway," Satoru taunts, and you take a breath before letting out a shuddering cry you orgasm again, your whole body feeling like it's one oversensitized ball of nerves.

You sigh in relief as the toy is turned off again, but gulp as Satoru's shoes come in line of your vision.

"We're not done yet. We're going to keep going until all of your holes are thoroughly used to ensure my pleasure and satisfaction."

[milky-aeons]

— PRETTY, PRETTY BOY

౨ৎ . . . there was a saying in the port mafia; that amongst their ranks hid an angel in disguise, who, through simple words alone, could make any man bend to her mercy. nobody could really resist her blinding charm. her mafioso boyfriend, of course, was no exemption.

alternatively, you convince CHUUYA NAKAHARA to try on a maid's uniform. You like it a lot more than you thought.

warnings: criminal themes, swearing, female reader, slight manipulation, pet-names, suggestive content, w.c 1.9k

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄, at first. For your stout, temperamental mafioso lover was always such a pleasure to tease. He took everything so seriously, in that adorable, flustered way of his. Not many would think that the Chuuya Nakahara was so easy to work up. He commanded soldiers, legions; men were terrified of the underground General who was also a mortal master of gravity. Maybe it was a side to him he kept reserved just for you. That soft, cheeky side. The blush that always heated his ears to the colour of his hair whenever you decided to play with him.

"No fuckin' way."

You stood there in the bedroom you both shared — lavish and expensive, sitting on one of the highest floors of the Port Mafia's headquarters. He had already discarded his coat and hat, was busy scratching the crown of his head when you had put the question to him. Interrupting his yawn mid-way. Chuuya's eyebrows had scrunched, he'd shot you a disbelieving retort — the hell did you just say? Then, he caught sight of what was draped across your bent forearm.

His eyes had flickered from yours, to the dress, to yours, once more. When he asked you to say that again, that he didn't think he had heard you right, he had shut you down with that very blunt denial.

"Please?" You pouted, batting your eyelashes. "It's just a bit of fun. You'd look so adorable, Chuuya!"

"Hah?! No!" Chuuya snapped. He was like an angry kitten, his canines sharp and baring. "The fuck did you even get that thing, anyway?"

"I think Mori ordered the wrong size for Elise-chan," You held up the dress so it draped down, almost the length of your body, but not quite. It just barely sat a size too small. With its narrow set waist and countless little frills, you were, at first, a little disappointed — that such a pretty thing was going to go to waste. And then, the gears in your mind began their mischievous little tune. You looked at Chuuya with wide, imploring eyes. "Are you scared to put on a dress, my love?"

Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm not scared of anything, baby doll."

"Then put it on."

"Go fuck yourself."

"You're so mean!"

At your wounded tone, the General's shoulders tightened a little. When he stole a glance in your direction, he saw the way your eyebrows drooped over your sad doe eyes, how your full lips formed that pretty little pout. Damn him, he was not considering this shit, there was absolutely no way Chuuya Nakahara was going to fit himself into that ugly piece of cloth just to make you happy. Murder, espionage — sure. For you, he wouldn't even give it a second thought. It would come as natural to him as breathing air.

But this?

He poked his cheek with his tongue. He began angrily tapping his foot against the carpeted floor. Stealing a second glance at the woman he loved, he caught the shadow of disappointment hanging over your head like an ominous raincloud, and felt the last shred of his resistance dissipate into sorry little afterthoughts.

Chuuya let out an extremely exaggerated sigh. Blinking, you glanced at him. He had his head bowed a little and was holding out one open, gloved palm.

"Hand it over."

A little startled all of a sudden, you gawped, making a strange sound. "Huh?"

An impatient growl echoed in the air. Chuuya looked up to glare at you from underneath his fair lashes, his eyes the colour of diamonds, of hard impenetrable sapphires. They narrowed dangerously when you were staring too long at the rose that blushed against his alabaster skin.

"So? Are ya gonna give me the shitty little thing, or not?"

Quickly understanding that he was actually taking you seriously, that he was considering your little charade, you had become too stupefied to do anything else. With hesitant fingers did you hold the maid's dress out to him, which he snatched from your grip in one forceful, swiping movement. You thought you caught the ends of the fuckin' shit I do for this woman, at the tail of it, but you couldn't be totally sure.

Seething, Chuuya balled the garment in his fist and marched off to your on-suite bathroom. He took a little longer than you expected him to — of course, he had never tried on a dress before. Maybe he was having trouble getting past all the ribbons and buttons, ties and zippers.

"Fuck me!" You heard him swear through the door after a few more moments of silence. Tender chuckles rose like bubbles in your chest — he was trying so hard to please you, exposing that soft side you kept under lock and key, only for yourself to indulge.

You lifted your hand to knock softly on the door. "Do you need some help in there?"

A growling blue-streak of profanities. Somehow, becoming more colourful and creative than the last. "How the hell do you women wake up in the morning and do this shit, every day? There's like, a million buttons on this ugly piece of crap!"

Crashing and banging mixed into the collection of sounds that was coming from the small bathroom. Amused, but also a little worried that he'd pull a little too hard on one of the ribbons and fall backwards against the toilet seat, you placed your hand on the golden doorhandle.

"Because us women are just that amazing," You mused, not resisting the urge to goad him. Your voice then dropped into a serious lilt. "Really, it's okay, Chuuya — you don't have to—"

That was when you felt it — the cool, insistent press of gravity, the humming in the air that told you your lover had activated his fearful technique. Your eyes shot down to where it was coming from, and to your immediate surprise, you saw the soft glow of crimson enveloped around the handle you were trying to unlatch — holding it securely in place.

"No. I said I'd fuckin' do it, didn't I?" Chuuya remarked through the wood. "So I will. Go wait over at the bed."

Prideful, stubborn man, you thought, rolling your eyes at his defensive tone, oh, how you loved him. "Okay." You sang sweetly, then stepped away from the bathroom door so as to sashay over to your expansive king size. You barely had a chance to set yourself down on the satin sheets when — bang!

The on-suite door had been thrown off of its hinges and cracked against the neighbouring wall with the force he put behind it. And standing there in the doorway in all his blood-boiling, skin-heating, frill-covered glory, was that very General who instilled terror to even the most seasoned of underground criminals. The long black dress that stopped just at his ankles and puffed at the shoulders threw his wild fiery hair into focus. The frilly white apron hanging loosely at his narrow waist contested with the bright red flush creeping up his neck.

You must have been staring at him for a little too long, because Chuuya snarled. "You happy now? I look damn ridiculous."

You didn't laugh. Nor did you tease him, as always, but you rose slowly up off of the bed and began to walk over to him. Stalk him, quietly, your expression a smooth, unreadable slate. The extreme lack of a reaction from you was making Chuuya's eyebrows knit, his lips softening from snarl to frown.

"O-Oi?"

When you reached him, you shot out to grab the little lapels of the dress that collared his long neck and tugged him down. So that he came just eye level with your own darker, smouldering ones. Oh, you were going to pounce on him. Packaged up in that pretty little parcel for you, you were going to devour him where he stood.

You smiled, leaning in, and whispered, "Told you you'd look absolutely adorable, my pretty, pretty boy."

requested by the lovely [ @ringsofsaturnnnn! ]

[dark-and-kawaii]

I really like your soft Raphael work but soft Haarlep has been eating away at me. Imagine Haarlep catching feelings for Raphael’s new toy and Raphael finds out and is upset because she’s supposed to belong to Raphael same with haarlep. They belong to him not to one another

*SCREAMING IN DELIGHT* AHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS!!!!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ baby you got it!!! I got you!!!

Haarlep - Raphael - Comfort - Angst - NSFW

- PRT 2 (Click Here) - PRT 3 (Click Here) - PRT 4 (Click Here)

Ao3

Haarlep's tail gracefully encircled your fragile frame, pulling you close to the barren expanse of their chest. Gazing at a bruise that marred your fragile mortal flesh, their fingers traced the cruel mark their master had left; a testament to Raphael’s callousness and disregard. With an unusual tender devotion, Haarlep presses their lips against the bruised flesh before nudging their head against your shoulder blade. Haarlep sought to offer comfort even if only for a fleeting moment.

As a new day surfaced in Avernus, the tranquility Haarlep had found shattered like fragile glass. Raphael returned unexpectedly, his eyes narrowing upon the sight that greeted him— the entwined forms of his two pets, their bodies evidence to the forbidden connection they had fostered in his absence.

An unmistakable fury enveloped Raphael's voice as he sneered, "My, my, what do we have here?" His words laced with scorn and vindictiveness, his presence filling his boudoir with a suffocating tension. In a surge of anger, Raphael seized hold of Haarlep's horns, wrenching him cruelly away from you, his precious mouse.

Raphael's voice dripped with malicious delight as he spoke, "Such a shame. Here I thought you knew better, dear Haarlep.” He shook his head at Haarlep whom grabbed at his steel grip on their horns, “Shall I remind you whom you kneel for, to whom you exist to pleasure?"

Moving his hands from their horns to their hair, Raphael forced Haarlep off the bed and compelled them to their knees in front of him- a display of dominance and punishment. The warmth and safety that entailed your presence had been ripped away, leaving them vulnerable to Raphael's sadistic whims. Raphael reveled in his power, his grip on Haarlep's hair tightening, “You do recall what I enjoy, don’t you? Of course you do, now… Be a good obedient pet and remind yourself whom you’re here for.”

The sudden disturbance in bed caused you to stir in your slumber, the warmth you’ve grown accustomed to dissipated as you turned to cradle it. In that moment, your senses snapped to attention, your eyes wide with terror and anguish... Haarlep on their knees, their lips wrapped around Raphael’s cock, forced to take it all. You saw how Haarlep’s throat bulge from Raphael’s length… Saw how Haarlep’s eyes connected with your own.

Without hesitation, you leaped from the bed, rushing toward Raphael, grabbing hold of the arm that held onto Haarlep’s head, pleading for him to stop.

Your eyes grew glassy, your heart torn between the safety of Haarlep and the overwhelming force of Raphael. With a quivering voice you implored, "Please, Raphael… I beg of you, Do what you want to me, just don’t hur-“

Raphael's lips curled into a wicked smile, savoring the sight of your pleas. He taunted you, relishing in his power over you and the defiance you displayed. "My, how precious this is," he sneered. "Begging for the likes of a mere incubus. Defiance is not tolerated here in the House of Hope, little mouse. This you learn today.”

[ms-snape]

Ok I have the sweetest idea! Can you please write severus with a female reader who is just fascinated with his long hair and asks to style it for him, nothing crazy but you know bows like lucius or braids

Title: For me?

Warning: None, just pure fluff

Words Count: 1000+

Masterlist

---

In the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where shadows danced in the flickering candlelight, Y/N flitted through the halls like a vibrant breath of fresh air. As the Herbology professor, she was well-versed in nurturing both plants and the students who so often found themselves enchanted by her passion. However, it was not just her lessons that captured the attention of those around her; it was the way she lit up at the mere mention of Severus Snape, the brooding Potions Master with a heart as deep as the dungeons he called home.

Severus, with his raven-black hair that cascaded like a dark waterfall, was a source of quiet intrigue. Though he preferred solitude, he found solace in Y/N’s company. Her laughter echoed like music, warming the cold stone walls of the castle. But there was one aspect of Severus that Y/N simply could not resist—his hair. To her, it was not merely an accessory but a canvas, a tapestry waiting for her gentle hands to weave magic into it.

“Severus, please,” Y/N implored one evening, her eyes sparkling with mischief as they lounged in the cozy confines of their shared place. A fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow that illuminated her face, highlighting the way her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Just let me style it once! I promise you’ll love it.”

Severus raised an eyebrow, his usual expression of stoic annoyance morphing into mild amusement. “I do not believe that would be appropriate, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and measured, though there was an undeniable softness to his tone. “My hair is not a toy for your amusement.”

With a dramatic pout that could rival even the most skilled of performers, Y/N crossed her arms, her lower lip jutting out in a way that made her look irresistibly adorable. “But it would be so much fun! And you have such beautiful hair! It deserves to be styled, not left to hang limply like a neglected broom.”

Severus fought to suppress a smile, the corners of his mouth betraying him. She had a way of disarming him, of stripping away his defenses with her infectious enthusiasm. “It is merely hair,” he muttered, attempting to maintain his facade of indifference.

“But it’s your hair,” she insisted, her voice rising slightly in excitement. “It has character! Just think of the potential!”

He sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness would not easily be swayed. “Y/N,” he began, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone, “I hardly see how this is—”

“Just once!” she interrupted, leaning closer, her eyes wide and pleading. “For me?”

For a moment, the world outside their bubble faded away. Severus felt the weight of her gaze on him, filled with an earnestness that tugged at something deep within his chest. He took a breath, allowing himself to be swept up in the moment. “Fine,” he relented, the word escaping his lips almost against his will. “But only for a moment.”

Y/N’s face lit up with unrestrained joy, and in that instant, all of Severus’s reservations melted away like snow beneath the sun. He could not deny her anything when she looked at him like that.

“Yay!” she squealed, her voice a melody of delight. She quickly ushered him to a nearby chair, her hands moving with purpose as she began to untangle the strands of his hair. As her fingers slipped through the silky locks, Severus felt a strange mixture of vulnerability and warmth. He was accustomed to being the one in control, yet here he was, yielding to her playful whims.

“Your hair is so soft,” she remarked, a hint of awe in her voice. “Have you been using that conditioning potion I recommended?”

“Perhaps,” he replied, feigning nonchalance even as he felt his heart rate quicken at her touch. The way she concentrated, her brows slightly furrowed, made her even more endearing. He watched as she sectioned his hair, her movements precise and graceful.

“Now, let’s see,” she murmured to herself, her focus unwavering. “A braid? A twist? No… I know!” With a burst of inspiration, she began to weave his hair into intricate patterns, her fingers dancing like a skilled artist. Severus felt a surge of warmth at her dedication, each tug and pull both comforting and invigorating.

As she worked, they exchanged soft, teasing banter, laughter spilling from their lips like the most precious potion. Y/N’s enthusiasm was contagious, and soon even Severus found himself enjoying the process. She recounted tales of her students’ antics in the greenhouse, her expressive gestures painting vivid images that made him chuckle despite himself.

“I’ve decided this is the look you should adopt,” Y/N announced triumphantly, securing the final braid with a delicate ribbon. She stepped back to admire her handiwork, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Severus caught his reflection in the nearest mirror, and for the first time, he saw something different—something that spoke of connection, of warmth, and of a world beyond the cold, dark potions and brewing shadows that had long defined him. “It appears I have been transformed into a woodland sprite,” he remarked dryly, but the corners of his mouth betrayed the fondness he felt.

Y/N clapped her hands, bouncing on her heels. “You look incredible! I can’t believe you ever doubted this.” She stepped forward, her fingers brushing against his cheek as she leaned in, eyes softening. “I love seeing this side of you.”

In that moment, the air crackled with an unspoken truth. Severus felt an overwhelming swell of affection for her—how she brought light into his otherwise somber existence. Her laughter filled the silence he had grown so accustomed to, and he couldn’t help but admire the way her passion made even the darkest corners of the castle feel alive.

“Perhaps,” he began, the words feeling foreign yet exhilarating on his tongue, “I could tolerate such transformations more often, provided it remains… just between us.”

Y/N beamed, her joy radiant and uncontained. “Deal! But next time, I’m trying out a crown braid!”

As she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, Severus felt the weight of his walls crumbling further. In her presence, he was not merely the Potions Master; he was something more—something hopeful, something cherished. Together, they sat in the soft glow of the firelight, a tangle of hair and heart, weaving a bond that transcended the very magic of the world around them.

[teecupangel]

Here's an idea I think you might enjoy: animus but Des is in their head, controlling them. They can feel it and talk to him and everything, ratatouille style.

……………… You know what would be funny, nonny?

If Desmond sucks at controlling them.

Like, we’ve heard the rites of passage in AC games:

We make them jump instead of doing a leap of faith

We accidentally make them climb the wrong high building and the actual viewpoint is the tower next to it

We miscalculate a jump and fall into the waters below or into an unsuspecting civilian

And there’s the game specific problems I refuse to believe I’m the only one who suffered thru it.

So just imagine Desmond trying to control them in the Animus and they know they’re being controlled.

There’s this… change in the air around them. It feels more charged. More… mysterious.

And they also become clumsier for some goddamn reason.

Incidents include:

Altaïr falling into the waters in the docks of Acre for the fifteenth time and he just hisses under his breath, “What is wrong with you?! Do you enjoy seeing me wet?!” and Desmond’s just “Dude, your control sucks!” which leads to Altaïr having an argument with Desmond under his breath about how his ‘control’ (whatever that means) does not suck, Desmond just sucks at this thing he likes to call ‘platforming’ and they both just agreed that, yeah, okay, they’re gonna assassinate Sibrand by going around instead even if it meant Altaïr had to walk slowly and pretend to be praying the entire time.

Altaïr breathing heavily as he glared at the ten (nope, five more guards found him in open combat, damn it) guards trying to kill him. One of them stepped forward and raised his sword. Altaïr readied himself and he still got hit, “(Growl)! Desmond! Get your timing right!” “Your Hidden Blade counter timing is too fast, Altaïr! Let’s just use your swor-” “No! You will learn how to counter using the hidden blade or, I swear, I will find a way to control you and drill it to your body myself!” (Guards just glance at each other, thinking “oh shit, he’s insane”)

Ezio just staring into the sky as he places his hands on his waist as he called out, “Desmond! How about we try this again later?” “No! I almost got it!” “……… It’s been an hour, Desmond. Let’s try clearing this tomb after-” “No! We’re gonna get that Armor today if it’s the last thing we do! Just… this goddamn time limit is annoying! Time limit sucks!” Ezio who is already used to the mysterious voice (who calls himself Desmond)’s strange words: “………… (sigh)”

“I can take them out. Desmond, please, I’m begging you, let me take them out. I can do-” (Desmond takes control and Ezio watches as his recruits take down the targets) The recruits looking at Ezio for approval. Ezio: Bene, that was a good takedown. (inside, Ezio is just tired because Desmond is enjoying all this ‘summoning’ thing too much…)

“Why can’t we have different lethal bombs?! You have the ingredients for it!” “I don’t know, Desmond. Could we just please finish preparing all the bombs?” “Dude, wouldn’t it be better if we have, like, all of these bombs?” “… I don’t think I have enough space in belt for all of them…” “You should get a bag.” “(Sigh) Desmond, we already talked about this. This Animus of yours don’t allow more ‘inventory’, right?” (inside, Ezio is wondering what his life has become that he sorta kinda understand the words leaving his mouth)

“Desmond… I’m imploring you to not mess this up.” “I’m trying, man, this is hard.” “Who are you talking to, Haytham?” “Ziio! No… no one.” “…” “… sigghhh… Desmond say hello to Ziio.” “Hi, Ziio.” “… is this a curse placed upon you white men?” “…” “…” “…” “Perhaps.” “Sorta?”

“You are a Templar. May the Father of Understanding guide us.” “May the Father of Understanding guide us.” “Wait, what?!” “…” “…” “Master Kenway, is something the matter?” “… no, Charles. I simply… remembered something foul.”

“It’s okay, Desmond. You’ll get this soon enough. Just take a deep breath and………… Desmond. Desmond. Please stop doing whatever you’re doing right now. My head is starting to hurt.” “It’s not me! The cameras of these tree view points sucks ass!”

“How is it you came to captain a ship, given the way you sail?” “Oh, screw you, Haytham! You wanna talk shit, why don’t you try doing this shit yourself, huh?!” “…” “…” “…” “… Apologies, father. Desmond was out of line.” “No, I’m not, fuck you, Haytham!” “I can say with absolute delight I have not missed you one bit, Desmond.” “Bite me, tacohead.” “I still do not know what that means.”

[alexa-fika]

Sessions with bats and uncles (Sebek x child! Reader)

A/N: Sebek time \0/, originally it was going to be a diasomnia x child!reader but I really wanted to do that one on one before that, plus Sebek time can be really endearing when paired with the childishness of a small kid.

Dividers by @/saradika

“Young Master! I implore you, please do not run off like that!” Sebek exclaims, his loud voice echoing across Diasomnia’s walls

“Sorry Uncle Sebek…I was trying to find big brother Malleus.”

“Please, young master, your protection and the protection of your brother, the young master, is my utmost importance. If you shall ever require to go somewhere, do let me know, and I will take you myself!”

“Thank you, Uncle Sebek! You’re the best!”

“It’s nothing, young master! Although, if I may ask, why do you seek your elder brother?”

They shrug

“I missed him.”

Sebek nods, his face softened

“I see… Well then, young master! I am certain your elder brother shall be delighted to see you! Come, let us find him!”

“Yeah!”

Sebek leads the young master in search of Malleus.

“Look, Uncle Sebek! It’s a bat!” They said running off towards the flying mammal and attempting to catch it

Sebek’s eyes widen as he chases after them

“Stop, young master! Do not touch that animal! It may be harmful!”

“But I want to show Grandpa Lilia! He always has bats!”

Sebek sighs, running over and grabbing the young master’s hands before they can touch the creature

“Please, young master! Just because Master Lilia owns bats does not mean all bats are safe! Your safety is of utmost importance to me.”

“B-But I wanted to show Grandpa…

“I understand, young master…But we do not know if this bat may be dangerous! I cannot allow you to harm yourself. I shall propose a different solution; we shall take a photograph of the bat so that we may show Master Lilia.”

The small child stops to think and nods their head

“Okay!”

Sebek smiles softly

“Then it is decided! We shall use my camera here to photograph the bat! Then we shall go and show the photo to Master Lilia; it will be perfect!”

After photographing the bat, Sebek takes the young master’s hand and heads along to find Lilia.

“Please, young master. We must be careful on our way, as I shall not allow any harm to befall you while I am your caretaker!”

“Uncle Sebek I want to take a photo with you!”

“With me?” Sebek asks, his loud and confident voice slightly softening at the small child's request

“It would be my pleasure, young master.”

“Mmhm!”

Sebek smiles and quickly snaps a picture of him and the young master

“Perfect! Do you like the photo, young master?” He says showing the child the photo

“Look, Look! Uncle Sebek, the bat is in our photo, too!”

Sebek looks to where the young master is pointing, seeing the bat had flown in between the both of them providing a perfect photo of all three of them.

“Oh, you are right, young master! It is in the photo!”

Sebek smiles softly

“That is why I think it is a wonderful photograph!”

“Can we go show Grandpa Lilia?”

Sebek nods

“Of course, young master! Come! Let us go and show Master Lilia our photo!”

What we think of this one y’all?