#THE LASHES 🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

[64sue]

can we talk about ittttttttt

[itlswhatltls]

HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL KSKZKSKZKSJD 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

[scoutofmymind]

AHHHhhhhGg!!!! We need more sweetie pie fratty Lu!! beg for a pt 2 🛐

I’ve Got You — { Luigi x Reader }

Content: NSFW — MDNI kissing, dry-humping, fingering, fluffy, handjobs, LuigiTalksYouThroughIt, he finishes a little Too Soon ™️, quickie

Wc: 2,586

Notes; Luigi reveals he was a psych major before venturing into the world of CS. He helps you through what seems to be yet another crisis, in more ways than one.

This is a Pt 2 of the Divine Timing Bullshit drabble.

"Well, I was a psychology major for a minute." Luigi's voice carries a hint of amusement as he settles cross-legged on his bed. The room surprises you — a private dorm that speaks of his family's wealth, yet the space feels lived-in, humble.

Lamps with amber edison bulbs cast a warm glow over textbooks stacked beside engineering manuals.

"And so that makes you my therapist?" The words come out more bitter than intended, hanging in the air between you. You hadn't planned this visit — just a casual 'wanna hang?' text at 3 PM that somehow led to you wearing tracks in his floor, your anxieties spilling out unchecked.

"Well, no, but I probably give better advice than Liz, or Scarlett, or Johanna." His voice stays steady, eyes tracking your movement with quiet attention. The way he lists your friends' names shows he's been listening all semester, filing away the details of your life. "Not licensed, but if it makes you feel better, you—"

"Never mind." You drag your sweater sleeves across your eyes, the soft fabric catching on your damp lashes. Your chest feels tight with that particular brand of exhaustion unique to college students — equal parts caffeine jitters and existential dread. "I'm just — I'm so tired of feeling like I have no purpose, you know? Just this thing floating around, ma-"

"Come here." His voice cuts through your spiral, soft but unmistakably firm. He pats the space in front of him, the gesture both invitation and anchor. When you hesitate, hovering between flight and surrender, his lips curve into a gentle smile. "Present moment exercise."

Reluctantly, you migrate to the space before him, mirroring Luigi's posture like a hesitant reflection — crossed legs, straightened spine. The mattress dips beneath your weight, creating a subtle gravity that draws you both incrementally closer. "What's the exercise?"

"Close your eyes." His voice carries that gentle authority that seems to bypass your usual defenses, making compliance feel less like surrender and more like trust. "What do you feel right now? Not think — feel."

You hum softly, hands resting in your lap as the world shifts from visual to visceral. The darkness behind your eyelids makes every sensation sharper, more immediate.

"Your knee touching mine," you start, clinging to this exercise like a Hail Mary thrown into the depths of your winter despair. "Uh- the texture of your comforter" - soft, worn cotton that speaks of countless nights studying - "the candle you lit..."

"Good." The word comes with the warm press of his hands finding yours, and your breath catches slightly. His skin feels sun-warmed against your winter-chilled palms, his thumbs painting invisible patterns that seem to speak directly to your nervous system. "What else?"

"Your hands," you murmur, the words falling soft and honest in the space between you.

You let yourself sink deeper into the sensation — not just the mechanical fact of his thumbs against your palms, but the way his touch seems to radiate warmth up your arms, how each deliberate stroke feels like morse code tapping out a message: breathe, settle, stay. "Uh — little sparks."

"Mm, that's good." Luigi's voice has mellowed to warm honey, no longer needing to rise above your anxious litany of deadlines and mounting student loans. "What else?" His fingertips whisper along your forearms where your sweater sleeves have retreated to your elbows, each touch deliberate and grounding.

"Water." The word emerges soft as you lose yourself in the patterns he traces, his fingers creating phantom ripples across your skin.

Memories surface with each touch — the shock of cold spring water on sunburnt skin, the gentle rock of a weathered pontoon boat, the way summer light dances on the farm's pond. A smile tugs at your lips, unbidden and genuine. "Reminds me of home."

Though your eyes remain closed, you can feel Luigi's answering smile in the air between you, sense the careful attention he pays to each micro-expression that crosses your face, every subtle response to his touch. "Yeah? Take me there," he whispers, his fingertips discovering new paths now, mapping the delicate architecture of your wrist bones. "What do we see?"

In your mind's eye, reality softens at the edges, then transforms completely.

The suffocating weight of impending papers dissolves, the tyranny of five-thirty alarms fades to nothing, and the guilt of rushed mornings and forgotten breakfasts melts away like frost in sunshine.

Instead, memory blooms bright and clear as summer.

"There's uh — it smells like hay," you murmur, the sandalwood candle's warmth fading as memory takes over. Your voice grows stronger with each detail. "There's Rosie, our herd dog. And the birds are chirping in the trees." Luigi's fingers trace their way back up your forearm, slower this time, as if drawing out each remembered sensation. "The sun." You can almost feel its warmth on your skin, that particular kind of heat that's been absent since fall break left you stranded in winter's gray embrace.

"That's beautiful," Luigi breathes, his words carrying an undercurrent of something deeper, something that makes 'you're beautiful' hover unspoken in the air between you. "What do you feel now?” The question lands softly as he observes the transformation in you — shoulders that have finally surrendered their tension, lips curved in a gentle smile, hands that have shed their anxious chill for a living warmth.

"I feel comfort." The words come with a small nod, the first movement you've made since closing your eyes, since letting him guide you away from the chaos in your head. Your voice holds a certainty that wasn't there before. "I feel safe."

Luigi's touch anchors you back to the present moment, gentle but grounding. "Yeah? And we'll keep that feeling, hm?" His hands find their way to your thighs, the touch carrying no threat, no expectation – just steady warmth and presence. "Even when we're away from our safe place, we can find it still."

Something breaks open then — maybe it's the simple humanity of it all, how Luigi offered not just a listening ear but a path back from the edge where dropping out had started to look like your only escape.

Your chin trembles, and behind your closed eyelids, tears begin to gather. All you can manage is a soft "Mhmm," anything more threatening to unleash the emotion building in your chest.

"Ohh," Luigi's gentle tsk carries nothing but understanding as his thumb finds your jawline, the touch tender as a whisper. His soft coo acknowledges what he already knows — that this reaction is natural, expected even.

He'd been here himself once, tears falling during his first time with this very exercise.

When you open your eyes, a watery laugh escapes as you reach to brush away the tears tracking down your cheeks, but Luigi's already there, his thumbs gentle against your skin. "You did great," he beams at you, his smile radiant with a pride usually reserved for mountain summits or graduation stages. "Not so hard, is it?"

Your head tips forward into his touch as another laugh bubbles up, accompanied by fresh tears — a release valve finally opening on emotions bottled since semester's start. "What the fuck did you just do?"

Luigi's grin is soft as he catches each tear with careful thumbs, taking in your flushed cheeks, the way emotion thickens your voice. "I fuckin' popped that big ass dark cloud over your head." There's gentle knowing in his tone – the cloud will gather again, but now you have a way to part it, to find light.

Sniffles punctuate the quiet as you lean into his touch with a sigh, studying him with new eyes. The image of Frat Boy Luigi feels like a distant myth now; trying to picture him dominating a beer pong table seems as misplaced as a lion in a library. "Why did you switch to CS?" The question comes carefully as his hands migrate from your cheeks to your neck, thumbs finding pressure points behind your ears that he somehow knows to touch, pressing gentle circles that make your shoulders drop another fraction.

"You want the honest answer?"

Your nod is immediate.

"I was good at psychology — too good, honestly. Reading people, understanding their patterns, their defense mechanisms." His words come measured, thoughtful. "It began to feel... manipulative? Like I was collecting everyone's source code without any permission."

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him an inquisitive grin. "So, you fuck with actual source code now instead?"

"Exactly." Luigi nods, but something deeper flickers in his gaze. "With programming, everything is transparent. The computer does exactly what you tell it to do — there's no hidden agenda, no complex histories. If something breaks, you can fix it by looking at the code."

Understanding hums through you as your hands seek his, drawing them into your own, missing their warmth for reasons you can't quite name. "What happens when you start looking at people like code?"

The playfulness drains from his expression, his fingers going still against yours.

"That's actually why I switched." He straightens, fingers weaving gently through yours. "I started seeing everyone like programs running on faulty logic. Started thinking I could debug them, optimize their processes." His laugh carries a edge of self-reproach. "God, I sound like such an ass."

"No, keep going.”

"There was this girl in my Abnormal Psych class. She had anxiety, pretty severe. I thought I understood her patterns so well that I could help her rewrite them." His free hand rakes through his hair. "I ended up making it worse. Way worse. Because people aren't programs — you can't just identify the bug and patch it. Every 'bug' is part of who they are."

You study his face in the mixed glow of candlelight and distant desk lamp, catching shadows of old guilt in his expression.

"With code, there's always a right answer. A most efficient solution. But humans — fuck," he draws your hand to his cheek, releasing a soft sigh. "We're messy. Contradictory. Beautiful because of it, not in spite of it. The moment I started seeing people as systems to optimize was the moment I stopped seeing them as people."

You study him — the way he cradles your hand, his own need for contact as evident as yours. "Is that why you're so focused on being present? Not analyzing?"

His smile returns, gentler than before. "Yeah. Turns out the best way to understand someone isn't by debugging them." His lips trace down your wrist, following the same path his fingers had taken earlier, recreating that feeling of safety and home. "Being here. Feeling. Letting things be messy and imperfect and real."

You feel yourself melting further — transformed into something soft and vulnerable you never expected to become.

By all rights, you should be alone in your dorm right now, buried under your duvet until the hypnotic loop of slime videos lulled you to sleep.

Instead, here you are, receiving wisdom from someone you'd once dismissed as just another beer pong champion, your best friend's crush turned into something far more complex.

Fuck.

"And how's that working out for you?" A grin spreads across your face, warmth flooding your cheeks as your heart performs an impromptu butterfly migration. "Letting things be messy?"

He moves with purposeful grace, drawing you onto his lap, his back finding the carefully arranged pillows behind him. "Well," he murmurs, warm hands sliding beneath your sweater to grip your waist, carrying the same gentle certainty as before, "I haven't color-coded a single spread sheet this week, and somehow the world hasn't ended."

Your laugh comes out breathless as your arms find their way around his shoulders. He gazes up at you through half-lidded eyes, those stark black eyebrows relaxed like brushstrokes across his features, each detail seeming divinely crafted.

"You're different than what I expected." The confession slips out as his hands chart a careful course up your back, then down to trace the curve of your ass, maintaining their unhurried, gentle exploration.

"I won't ask." Luigi's grin carries the weight of familiar labels; valedictorian, hazer of newcomers, dean's list fixture, beer pong legend, app development champion, notorious panty dropper. "But, thanks anyway."

Your lips crash together with sudden urgency, your hips finding their home in the space between his crossed legs, your body molding against his like a missing puzzle piece. "It all worked out in the end," you murmur against his mouth, teeth grazing his bottom lip as your hips roll downward. "Wouldn't you say?"

Luigi nods slowly, lips brushing yours with each word. "I'll say whatever you want me to." His grin is a contradiction — shy yet heated, pure yet hungry — as crimson spreads across his cheeks and creeps over the bridge of his nose.

A moan escapes you, startling in its intensity, warmth flooding your cheeks.

His hips rise to meet yours, a deep groan rumbling through him as the hardness in his jeans presses against your inner thighs. “Is this the kind of messy you were talking about?” you breathe between heated, spit-slick kisses, your hips rocking with a deliberate, determined rhythm.

Luigi seems to be unraveling beneath you, his hands exploring every inch your oversized sweater allows, hiked up to your bellybutton. He watches intently as you grind against him, the obvious tent in his sweatpants twitching in response to the attention.

“The kind of messy that practically comes with a free therapy session before making you come in your sweatpants?” A smirk curls your lips, playful and devious, your gaze locked on Luigi, who looks as if he’s found heaven.

“Gonna make me come, are you?” His breath quickens, a familiar tingling sensation building deep within him.

“Only if I get to,” you reply, your words igniting a spark. His right hand slips down the front of your leggings, his palm replacing the stiffness of his groin, fingers teasing momentarily as they gather the arousal dampening your panties.

You tug the waistband of his sweatpants down below his hipbones, revealing his cock — proud yet desperate, glistening with pre-come. The whine that escapes him as you begin to stroke him speaks volumes of his growing need.

“Look at me,” Luigi begs, and your attention snaps back to him, too captivated by his size and the slickness on your knuckles to focus on anything else, wrist working in rhythmic timing over his length. “God, you’re fucking—” He’s cut off by a chorus of moans, hot and steady, as waves of arousal spill onto his abdomen.

Your hand instinctively moves to your mouth, tasting him—bitter at first, but sweet on the finish.

How perfect.

His breath comes in ragged gasps as his fingers work their magic inside you, curving just right to find that sweet spot that makes your eyes flutter and a wave of warmth wash over you. “You can do it,” he whispers, his free hand trailing gentle touches up and down your forearms, mirroring the soothing gestures he’d offered only thirty minutes prior to this. “I’ve got you.”

Your hands are still slick with his release, but it doesn’t matter. You lean forward, tangling your fingers in his hair, your lips crashing together in a desperate hunger punctuated by whimpers that signal your impending climax.

“Fuck,” you curse, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers thrusting inside you, still gentle yet insistent. His palm presses against your clit, creating a friction that pushes you right to the edge.

His praises shower over you like a sweet melody. “That’s it, baby,” he coos, your head tilting back as you ride the wave of pleasure until you can’t anymore. “That’s my girl.”

[jesuistrestriste]

Idk if anyone can hear me on this but we don't have anywhere near enough fics about comforting older men with erectile dysfunction 💔 I'm pleading for a divorced!art fix about this 🛐‼️(ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈᵃᶜʳʸᵖʰᶦˡˡᶦᵃ)

-balls anon (can I have a name that isn't balls anon:()

balls anon, i hear your cries. (also yes, pls pick a new anon name if you want loll)

i adore the concept of comforting dilf!art <3

like he told you the first time you tried to have sex with him that he has some.. problems .. in the bedroom. he explained how he’s ‘working on it’—recalling all of the times he’s been to his primary care physician for it, how he’s tried the little blue pill, and detailing the three (3) psychiatrist appointments he forced himself to go to. all of the time and effort has only left him feeling worn out; a failure of a man.

so when you look up at him when he’s hovering above you, desperately trying to jerk himself off to get his dick hard for the umpteenth time since the two of you got together, he can’t swallow down the emotions quick enough before he’s sniffling and choking on the tears pooling in his eyes.

and god, it’s sad. it’s more than sad, it’s heartbreaking. you know how hard he’s been trying to satisfy you; you know that every time you two decide to skip penetration for the night because of his ‘issue’, he dies a little inside. you can watch it happen in real-time— the look of shame in his glossy blue eyes, the awkward chuckle that spills from his chest, the way his hands retreat from your body.

so it doesn’t take much more than his brow wavering before you’re frowning and sitting up to wrap your arms around him, rubbing your palms up and down his trembling back as he drops his forehead to your shoulder and starts to sob. the cries come out all pained and stifled, his fingers digging gently into your hips as he silently begs you to tell him that he’s not a disappointment.

“i’m,” he shakes his head, choking on a hitched breath, “i’m sorry… i’m sorry, i’m sorry…”

all he can think about is how much younger you are than him, and how all you should be doing at this time in your life is having amazing sex (and how he is failing to provide that for you, the person he wants to provide for the most).

you feel the warm wetness from his flushed cheeks drip over your bare skin, sliding down your chest as you bring your right hand up to stroke his hair. that only makes him cry harder.

“Art… c’mon, babe… it’s fine, it’s alright, you know it’s okay,” you try to reassure him in the most tender voice possible.

he just wraps his arms around you tighter. he can’t bring himself to say what he wants to say, it’d only make him seem more pathetic. but fuck, he wants to beg for your forgiveness, for every time he couldn’t get it up, for putting that look on your face that you always plaster on when you don’t want to make him feel bad — like he’s some sort of dying pet that you’re about to put down. one last ball-toss before fido gets the kiss of death. ugh.

he hates himself.

“you deserve more than this,” he whispers shakily into your neck, two more fat tears dribbling down his face, “this is such bullshit. i’m bullshit, my body’s a fucking mess, but i should at least be able to—“

but he’s cut off when you snake your hands to cup his face, pulling him back from your chest to look over his expression. it hurts to see him so shattered; puffy eyes and wet lashes and a bitten bottom lip. you can tell he’s scared that you’re about to admit your frustration with him.

“i love you.”

you breathe the words out gently, looking between his eyes as he tries to blink away the sting of the tears. your thumbs stroke his skin.

“i love you, okay? i love you. this— all of this— doesn’t change that. you know that. i’m with you, baby.”

and art just crumbles again. this time, though, for a different reason.

he’s slumping against you and nodding, his hands splaying over your shoulders as he presses his body to yours.

god, what did he ever do in his sad, disaster-of-a-life to deserve you? to deserve this kind of understanding? he’ll never know.

“i love you too,” he clings to your very being, closing his eyes, “m-more than anything, more than everything.. i’m sorry..”

you kiss the side of his head, deciding to just let him have this breakdown. maybe this is what he needs.

“more than everything,” you whisper, “it’s gonna be okay..”

[pullupinarari]

PLEASE PLEASEEEASEEEEE WE NEED THAT DAD BLURB 🛐🛐

a/n: holy shit I can't wait to continue developing this dad!Lewis story! thank you so much to the anon who sent me this idea, hope you enjoy 🩷

Lewis has just left the shower, taking some warm and refreshing time for himself after the final triple header of the season. Being back home again brings him a sense of comfort and peace that he can’t quite find anywhere else - living for his family, doing absolutely everything to spend as much time as possible next to you and Grace.

Putting on some shorts, he stands in front of the mirror, drying his curls that have been set free for the end of the season. Starting the blow dryer, now with the bathroom door open, the corner of his eye catches a curious Grace peeking through the door, the little girl giggling and hiding whenever Lewis lightly moves his head to look at his princess. 

His daughter’s playfulness and laughs are enough to make him melt, giggling in unison with her while he pretends not to see her, not knowing where she is hiding. After some minutes of hiding, the three-year-old decides to enter the bathroom, walking slowly towards her daddy with a hand covering her smile, silently giggling, finally  appearing after having shown Lewis her hiding skills. 

- Hi, daddyyyy! - Grace drags the word, her body reaching so she can wrap her tiny arms around her dad’s leg, her cheek lovingly flattened against his skin. - Well, hello, my love. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. - Lewis jokes, his hand gently caressing his daughter’s head, ruffling a bit with her own curls while he looks down at her, giving her the purest smile that exists inside of his body.

Grace’s curious eyes look up, admiring her daddy’s curls - loving how they look just like hers, which makes the little girl tell her friends at preschool that her daddy is her twin.

And, in fact, he is. It’s crazy to you how Grace is Lewis’ copy in its entirety. The same lovely, chocolate eyes, the big lashes that she definitely inherited from your husband, the chubby cheeks that Lewis used to have as a kid, the adorable giggle sounding the exact same as his, the head full of luscious curls. 

And Grace loves to look at you and find things that you two have in common - like how the two of you absolutely hate mushrooms, how you both like to sleep on your left side, how her hair tone slightly matches yours a bit more, her smile looking exactly like yours. 

But whenever she looks at Lewis, there’s a different feeling beating in the little girl’s chest - she’s a devoted daddy’s girl, and whenever she looks at him, she sees her hero, the arms that protect her at all times, that carry her around whenever she decides to sulk and state that she’s too tired to walk. 

- I like your hair, daddy. - the little girl compliments, making her dad’s smile grow even more at her words.  - Thank you, princess. I love your hair as well. - Lewis says back, gently using the hair dryer to blow some air into his daughter’s curls, making her feel part of his action, only to watch how she snakes away from the warmth erupting through her small figure. 

Her tiny hand hides her smile again, a cute habit that she has now, and Lewis absolutely loves to see his baby’s toothy smile, but the way she slowly grows shy at her daddy’s antics, to the point of having to hide the blush on her cute cheeks, makes Lewis melt.  

After drying his hair, Lewis extends his hand for his mini-version - that’s quietly leaning her petite frame against the wall, paying attention to every detail of her dad’s movements.

The little girl gladly takes Lewis’ hand, allowing him to pick her up from the floor, sitting her on the counter in front of him while kissing her forehead lovingly. 

- We are twins! - Grace points out, the sparkle in her eyes evident as she looks straight into her dad’s eyes. - Can I stay here with you, daddy?  - Of course you can, sunshine. Do you want daddy to style your hair as well? - Lewis offers as he finishes his curls by now. 

The toddler eagerly nods her head, clapping her hands with excitement as Lewis gently picks some strands of his baby’s hair, playing with her own curls as he takes some elastics into his finger, carefully styling her locks in two high ponytails. 

- Do you like it, princess? - Lewis asks, giggling at the way his kid focuses on her reflection on the big mirror, smiling wide.  - I love my ponytails, daddy! Thank youuu! - Grace’s small fingers reach to touch the new updo that her papa gave her.

The child signals for her dad to reach closer to her, landing a sweet kiss on his cheek, appreciating him for giving her such a pretty hairstyle. Lewis makes a surprised expression, his heart growing at the sound of his daughter’s belly laughing erupting through the room. 

Taking out his shaving tools, Lewis gets ready to trim his beard - realizing that it does need some attention from him. Grace becomes silent, paying her full attention to what her dad is doing now. The man washes his face, applying some shaving gel all over his chin and jaw. But, the second he turns his shaver on, Gracie startles herself, leaving her quiet form. 

- No, no! What are you doing, daddy?! - the girl asks in a rush, putting her hands in a ‘stop’ movement, trying to prevent her dad from what he is about to do. - I’m shaving my beard, Grace. What's wrong? - Lewis asks, his eyebrows furrowed at the sudden disturbed behaviour from his daughter. - You cannot cut it, daddy! - the toddler protests, pulling on his arm with all her strength until he lets go of the machine in his hand.  - Why not, miss? Hm? - he questions, not understanding why she’s objecting so much to him trimming his beard.  - Because mummy likes it! - Grace informs, making Lewis’ eyes widen in surprise at her response. A loud laugh escapes the man’s lips, cleaning the shaving cream from his face before going to hug her daughter tight. 

Your husband’s heart completely melts at how adorable your daughter is, her fast responses always surprising him, the way her tiny brain works entices him. 

- You’re right, pumpkin. Mummy does like daddy’s beard, doesn’t she? - Lewis asks, surrounding Grace’s frame with his arms as he looks into the little girl’s eyes, smiling as she nods her head at his words. - But don’t you think that daddy should trim it just a bit? - his daughter immediately shakes her head ‘no’. - No? Okay Gracie, your wish is my command! - Lewis states as he goes to put away all his shaving utensils, carrying his baby back to the living room after finishing his post-shower routine, lying on the sofa with her on his chest. 

Your husband puts on her favorite cartoons, noticing how the little girl turns her attention to the television, her hand softly touching Roscoe’s fur - that decided to meet them on the sofa shortly after.

Grace’s energy peak has reached its end already, after all the events that took place in the bathroom, and the more she focuses on the cartoons, the more her eyes grow heavy, ending up falling asleep in the comfort of her daddy’s embrace.

Soon, you arrive from work, only to see the family picture of your husband lying on the sofa with a sleeping Grace still safely secured in his arms. A movie is playing on the television now, but Lewis can only pay attention to his baby girl, enjoying the warmth of his nestle, as he leaves soothing kisses on her forehead gently, his hands drawing patterns on her back, just how the toddler likes it - another thing that you and your daughter have in common. 

Whispering a ‘hey’, you carefully tiptoe your way to the couch, trying to be as silent as possible as to not wake up the sleeping princess. After sharing a quick kiss on the lips with your husband, your fingers carefully caress your daughter’s cheek. 

- She’s completely dozed off. - you whisper to Lewis, smiling at the feeling of peace and quiet surrounding the room. 

Your husband slightly nods at you with a smile.

- We had a pretty eventful afternoon.  - I noticed, judging by the ponytails and all. - you look your husband in the eyes, sharing a loving smile, when you notice his features. - And weren’t you going to shave, today, love?

Your question makes Lewis smile, reminding him of what happened earlier. He slowly shakes his head, with a quiet laugh playing on his lips. 

- I can’t do that, apparently. I’m forbidden from shaving. - Lewis shrugs slightly. 

Confusion grows in your mind, furrowing your brows at his words. - Why not?

Landing another kiss on his princess’ head, Lewis’ eyes fill with brightness as he giggles. 

- Grace told me that her mummy likes it this way. So she made sure that my hands didn’t even get close to a shaver. 

Your giggles mix with your husband’s, quietly laughing at your daughter’s words, shaking your head lovingly, the realization of your baby developing her personality right in front of your eyes.

- She’s smart as heck, we have to give her that. - you gently kiss Lewis’ cheek as he opens his arm to welcome your figure, allowing you to nestle in his embrace, next to Grace. - Uhum - he agrees, kissing your temple. - She’s smart, beautiful, caring, funny… Like her mummy.

His eyes mirror all the love that he holds inside for his two girls, the most precious things in his life. And while breathing in his scent, feeling your daughter slowly stirring in her sleep, you couldn’t feel any more at home, you couldn’t be more in love. And how amazing it is to dive into the adventures of life with your partners in crime, anxiously waiting for your family to grow even more, soon. 

[bettymylove]

i would love to request a Mattheo x reader x Enzo where reader is a hufflepuff and one day she goes back to her dorm and both the guys (her boyfriends) are there waiting for her to you know🤭 because it's been so long and they are needy doms🛐

ready

pairing: mattheo x reader x enzo

warnings: smut, 18+ mdni

a/n: my first enzo fic ahhh

Mattheo's leg bounced as he tried to focus on anything else other than his hard cock. Enzo was not in much of a different situation, both of them were eagerly waiting for you.

The door opened and both your boyfriends immediately stood up stalking towards you, your book bag was thrown on the floor by Enzo, "You don't need that right now baby." He looked down at you and you smiled.

Mattheo's hand immediately grabbed your throat, pushing you towards the door. You choked slightly when he pushed harder and you loved the feeling, "harder- please Matty harder" you begged him while your fingers locked themselves in Enzo's curls while he sucked on marks just below your jaw.

Mattheo let go and you whined at the loss of contact. Enzo picked you up so that your ass was right in his face and he did not waste a moment in slapping it.

"Do you have any idea how long we've waiting for you?" You chuckled a bit at how clingy they were being, pouncing at you as soon as you entered the room.

Your hand traveled to Enzo's bulge, pressing down to apply just tge right amount of pressure. Mattheo pulled you back into him by pulling your hair, tilting your hair so that he could kiss you.

Mattheo's mouth met with yours quite aggressively while Enzo's hand was travelling to your boobs, grabbing and flicking on what he could get his hands on.

You moaned in Mattheo's mouth and he pulled you even closer. Finally breaking the kiss, you got down on your knees, unzipping both of their pants and freeing their cocks.

You hands traveled up and down their cocks looking at them seductively through your lashes. "You better get your mouth on my cock, or I'll force it down." Mattheo retorted.

Your tongue met his cock with kitten licks while your thumb stroked the head of Enzo's cock. Both of them let out groans that made you even more drenched than before.

After gagging on both their cocks and your tomgue turning white, your top was disregarded, along with the skirt you had on.

Enzo's hand immediately met your cunt, fingers already delving inside while Mattheo was sucking your neck. "Come for me baby."

And so you did, your face met the matress soon after with your ass up high in the air. Mattheo's cock fir inside you with ease as if it was a mold made just for him. His thrusts started getting faster and your face was pushed harder in the matress.

When Mattheo was just about to cum, his body left yours and it was replaced by Enzo's while Mattheo stroked himself. All three of you came down together from the high.

After a while you sat yourself on Mattheo's lap kissing his neck. "Hope you're bothe ready for round two."

[earthlybeam]

I adore the your post of “the elves reacting to the different types of kisses”

please can you do an Elrond one I love him so much and love how you write him 🥺🩵

hope you are well and thank you

Thank you so much your words mean a lot and I’m just tired but I’m alright thanks for asking ❤️‍🔥🫶✨ yes! 🙌 Elrond supremacy. enjoy my friend 🛐

As they was a few who requested Elrond too this was the first person not sure who the anonymous ones are but here Elrond one 🙌

The elves reacting to the different types of kisses (forehead, cheek, jaw, wrist elven ear, nose, shoulder, lips...)

Elrond version below

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

Forehead kiss

The day had stretched long, and the weight of his responsibilities pressed heavily on Elrond’s noble shoulders. His usually calm expression betrayed the slightest furrow of worry as he stood by the window of his chamber, gazing out at the valley below, lost in thought. The soft rustle of your approach drew his attention briefly, but his eyes lingered on the horizon, his mind still consumed by duty.

You stepped close, silently placing a hand on his arm. The warmth of your touch seemed to bring him back to the present, and his gaze flickered to you. Without a word, you cupped his cheek gently, the pads of your fingers grazing his skin as you guided his face toward you. His eyes searched yours, a mix of quiet admiration and vulnerability, as you leaned in, your lips brushing his forehead with infinite care.

Elrond froze, as though caught off guard by the simplicity of the gesture, but then let out a soft, shuddering breath, his body visibly relaxing. His long lashes fluttered shut, and for a moment, he simply stood there, letting the warmth of your affection sink into him. Slowly, his hands rose to frame your face, his touch reverent and tender. His thumbs grazed your cheekbones, lingering as though he couldn’t bear to let the moment pass too quickly.

He lowered his head, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his breath mingling with your own. His voice, when it came, was soft and unsteady, yet full of depth and sincerity. “You honor me with such simple, yet profound affection, meleth nín,” he murmured, his words almost a whisper. “In moments like this, I am reminded that even amidst the chaos, there is peace.”

A small smile crept across his lips, warm and grateful, and he lingered there with you, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away. For a time, the world outside faded, and all that mattered was the quiet intimacy of your shared presence.

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Cheek kiss

The late afternoon sunlight spilled into the study, casting a warm glow across the room. The faint scent of parchment and ink lingered in the air as Elrond sat at his desk, his quill moving gracefully across a piece of vellum. His brows knit slightly in concentration, but there was no urgency in his work—just a quiet diligence that was so characteristically his.

You stood nearby, watching him with a soft smile. His hair, dark as the night sky, fell in elegant waves over his shoulders, and the calm focus in his features only made your heart ache with affection. Drawn to him, you moved closer, standing at his side for a moment before leaning down.

Elrond didn’t notice at first, his mind still absorbed in his work, until your lips brushed lightly against his cheek. The contact was fleeting, yet impossibly tender, and it brought him to a sudden pause. The quill in his hand stopped mid-stroke, and you saw the faintest flicker of surprise in his expression.

Slowly, he turned his head to meet your gaze. His eyes, deep and thoughtful, softened as they locked onto yours. A faint blush crept across his fair skin—so subtle that only someone as close as you would notice. He didn’t speak at first, as though searching for the right words, but instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek with a touch as light as a whisper.

His lips quirked upward in a small, almost teasing smile. “You’ve stolen my focus,” he said softly, though his tone held no reproach. His fingers lingered on your face, tracing an invisible path along your cheekbone, before letting his hand rest there. “But then again,” he continued, his voice low and steady, “my heart has been yours for far longer than my attention.”

He leaned back slightly, his smile still faint but undeniably warm, his eyes lingering on you with quiet devotion. Though he returned to his work, you could see the way his expression had changed—the faint smile remained, and the warmth of your kiss seemed to linger in his demeanor, a silent reminder of the love that surrounded him.

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Jawline kiss

The evening air was soft with the quiet hum of the world around you, but in this moment, the only sounds were the steady rhythm of your breaths and the subtle, electric tension between you and Elrond. You stood close, the space between you charged with the unspoken affection that had always been there, but tonight felt different—more palpable, more intense.

You raised your hand to gently trace the sharp, defined line of his jaw, your fingers lightly brushing against his skin. The touch was barely there, but the effect was immediate. Elrond’s breath caught, a sharp intake that hinted at the tension building within him. His eyes fluttered closed as the softness of your lips followed the path your fingers had traced, pressing a delicate kiss to his jawline.

The simple touch seemed to unravel something inside of him. His hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric of your clothing. His body was taut, as though every part of him was straining to maintain composure in the wake of such intimate attention.

A low hum rumbled from his chest, a sound that was half in pleasure, half in restraint. Elrond tilted his head slightly toward you, instinctively seeking more of your touch. The movement was subtle, but it was enough to make your pulse quicken as his closeness enveloped you. His lips parted just enough to allow a whispered breath to escape. “Do you know what you do to me, meleth nín?” His voice was deep, husky, coated with desire that he was trying to keep carefully restrained.

You could see it in his eyes—the heat building behind them. It was as if the world around him had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this shared moment of longing. His gray eyes smoldered, fixed on yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

Slowly, almost reverently, Elrond reached up, brushing a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. His thumb trailed softly along the curve of your cheek, the touch sending a shiver through you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple before pressing against yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and full of yearning. His hand cradled your face, his fingers delicately tracing the line of your jaw as if committing the feeling to memory.

His kiss deepened, slow but purposeful, pulling you even closer, until there was no more space between your bodies. The intensity of his touch, the way his lips moved against yours, spoke of a hunger that was tempered with reverence—a deep desire to connect with you, to claim you in the most tender of ways.

When the kiss finally broke, Elrond rested his forehead against yours, his breath still uneven. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to regain his composure, but the warmth of his gaze never left yours. You could feel the stillness between you, a connection so powerful that neither words nor gestures were needed to express it.

In the silence, you could hear the quiet hum of contentment that passed between you both. It was a shared understanding, an acknowledgment of the depth of feeling that neither of you had to explain. With one last tender touch, Elrond’s hand lingered at the back of your neck, his thumb brushing across your skin, as if marking the moment in time when nothing else mattered but the two of you together.

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Wrist kiss

You found yourself next to Elrond, the two of you standing in the quiet sanctuary of his study, the soft glow of candlelight flickering around you both. The weight of his many responsibilities was ever present, but there was a gentleness in the way he looked at you, as though in your presence, he could find some measure of solace.

As he reached out to move a book on the desk, his sleeve gently shifted, exposing the delicate skin of his wrist. It was a part of him that rarely felt the touch of affection, reserved only for the most intimate moments. With a tenderness that mirrored his own care for you, you reached for his wrist, your lips grazing the soft skin there, pressing a kiss against it.

The effect was immediate. Elrond froze, his entire body stilling as your lips made contact with his wrist. A shiver of warmth ran up his arm, the sensation more intense than he’d expected. His breath caught in his chest for a brief moment, and he slowly lifted his gaze to meet yours. His grayish blue eyes softened, the usual intensity replaced by something infinitely more tender, more open.

His lips parted as if he wished to say something, but for a moment, he simply studied you with admiration, as though trying to convey just how much your love meant to him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice quieter than usual, laced with emotion. “Even the smallest of gestures from you are treasured more than you know.”

Elrond took your hand in his, his thumb brushing gently over the spot where your lips had just been. His touch was careful, as though he feared that the simple act of holding you too tightly might cause the moment to slip away. “Every touch, every gesture, you have my heart, meleth nín,” he whispered, a deep sincerity in his tone.

He held your hand for a moment longer, his gaze soft but filled with the unspoken depth of his feelings for you. That wrist, so often overlooked, now felt like the center of the world to him, imbued with the love you gave so freely.

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Lips kiss

The evening was serene, the soft glow of candlelight flickering as you and Elrond shared a quiet moment together. He stood close to you, his gaze tender and full of warmth. Your eyes met, and without a word, you stepped toward him, your breath mingling in the still air. He watched you with soft admiration, as if he had all the time in the world to simply take you in.

You reached up, your hands brushing against his chest before gently cupping his face. With a softness that mirrored your emotions, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. At first, the kiss was slow and tender, a simple meeting of lips that spoke volumes in its gentleness. Elrond sighed into the kiss, savoring the warmth and softness of your touch as if it was something he could never have enough of. His arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you closer as though the very act of holding you might protect you both from the world outside.

But then, as you deepened the kiss, something in Elrond seemed to shift. His control, which was often unwavering, slipped away in that moment, and you felt the intensity of his response as he kissed you with a newfound urgency. His lips moved against yours with a passion that took your breath away, his hands cradling your face with a reverence that made your heart swell.

“There is no joy greater than this, to feel you, to know you are mine,” he whispered between kisses, his voice thick with emotion. His thumbs traced your cheeks with a tenderness that spoke of his unspoken devotion. It was as though he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t say with words—how deeply he loved you, how your presence grounded him in a way nothing else could.

When the kiss finally ended, Elrond rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming a little quicker, his eyes half-lidded with affection and contentment. A quiet hum of happiness escaped him, as if he could find peace in your touch alone. His mind was entirely focused on you, the connection between you two that no burden or responsibility could touch.

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Temple kiss

Elrond’s shoulders were heavy with the weight of leadership, and though he carried it with grace, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the subtle tension that lingered at the edges of his calm demeanor. He sat in a chair, a moment of respite amidst his duties, though his mind was clearly still preoccupied. You approached him quietly, your movements gentle and deliberate, sensing that he needed a moment of peace more than anything else.

Kneeling beside him, you placed your hand on his shoulder, your touch soothing. His grayish-blue eyes met yours, and for the first time in what felt like hours, you saw him relax just slightly, the guard around him lowering, even if only for a brief moment. Without a word, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, your lips barely grazing the smooth skin there.

Elrond’s eyes fluttered shut, and a quiet sigh of relief escaped his lips. For a moment, all the burdens of his responsibilities seemed to fade into the background, and he simply allowed himself to be present with you. The kiss, so gentle and full of love, was like a balm to his weary mind. It was the kind of touch he didn’t realize he needed—something tender and uncomplicated that allowed him to forget the weight he carried.

A small, blissful smile tugged at his lips as he let his head fall slightly to the side, seeking more of your touch. His hand, almost instinctively, reached up to brush through your hair, the action soft and intimate, a gesture that spoke volumes about his devotion to you. His touch was like a silent vow, a promise that no matter the burden he carried, you would always be his refuge.

“You are a balm to my weary mind,” he whispered, his voice low and full of gratitude. There was a quiet reverence in the way he spoke, as though you had done something extraordinary simply by offering him this small act of love.

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke. The world outside felt distant, and in the tranquility of that moment, Elrond allowed himself to simply be held, the quiet affection you shared a relief from the constant demands of his life. The gentle kiss on his temple had given him a rare, peaceful respite, a reminder that he was not alone in the weight of the world.

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Neck kiss

The room was bathed in a soft, golden light, a quiet stillness enveloping the two of you. Elrond stood before you, his figure tall and commanding, yet there was a subtle unease in his posture. The weight of countless duties, both past and present, seemed to press against him even in the quiet solace of your presence. The air between you was thick with an unspoken connection, as though the world outside held no importance in this fleeting moment.

With each breath he took, the tension in his shoulders remained, yet the tenderness in his eyes when they met yours was undeniable. Without a word, you took a step closer, your hand slowly reaching for him, your fingertips grazing the soft fabric of his tunic as you placed your hand gently against his chest, just over his heart. The contact was grounding, and for a heartbeat, you both stood there, feeling the rhythm of each other’s presence.

As your lips brushed softly against the delicate curve of his neck, you could feel Elrond’s breath catch in his throat. The sound was barely audible, but it spoke volumes, a mixture of surprise and longing. His chest rose and fell with the slow, measured rhythm of his breathing, but it was uneven now, stirred by the warmth of your touch. His usually composed demeanor seemed to falter for just a moment, the vulnerability in the way he closed his eyes betraying the depth of the feelings your kiss evoked.

Elrond’s fingers slid down your arm with a slow, deliberate motion, as if memorizing the feel of your skin against his. His touch was reverent, like a soft caress, sending ripples of warmth through your body. You could sense that your kiss, so tender and fleeting, had unlocked something within him, a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show. His fingertips trailed down, brushing against your wrist before his hand moved back up to rest against the small of your back, guiding you closer to him.

A soft sigh, barely a whisper, escaped his lips. It was a sound so quiet, almost imperceptible, but it carried an unmistakable weight—a rare expression of vulnerability from the steadfast Lord of Rivendell. Your lips continued their slow, gentle exploration, and in that moment, everything outside of the two of you seemed to fall away. The world could wait; only this intimate exchange mattered now.

His voice, a low murmur, broke the silence, the words heavy with meaning. “There are few things more cherished than your kiss, meleth nín,” Elrond spoke, his voice barely a whisper, but the sincerity in his words was unmistakable. Each syllable seemed to hang in the air between you, carrying with it the depth of his feelings. His gaze softened even more as his eyes flicked to yours, his hand moving ever so gently to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

The heat of his skin beneath your lips was intoxicating, his pulse steady and strong against your touch, yet there was something more in his quiet response to your kiss. He leaned into your touch, surrendering himself to the comfort you gave him, as though your kiss was a balm to the weary soul he kept hidden beneath layers of responsibility. It was a sacred thing—this moment, this connection.

As you stayed there, the kiss lingering between you both, Elrond’s hand moved, his fingers gently cradling the back of your neck, encouraging you to stay just as you were. The silence between you was thick with emotion, a shared understanding that needed no further words. Everything in that space—his touch, his presence, and the way he held you—spoke louder than anything he could have said aloud. In this moment, you both existed outside the bounds of time and duty, caught in a quiet, intimate exchange of affection that felt both eternal and fleeting.

As the kiss finally slowed, you felt a subtle shift within him—something deep and profound. His breath was slower now, his chest rising and falling in a gentler rhythm. The closeness between you seemed to wrap around you both, leaving you suspended in a moment of unspoken connection. Elrond’s hand remained against the back of your neck, a silent plea for you to stay just a little longer, to hold on to this peace that neither of you could find anywhere else.

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Hand kiss

The two of you sat together in the dim light of the study, the fire crackling softly in the hearth as Elrond absentmindedly traced the edge of a map with his fingers. His mind was no doubt busy with the concerns of Rivendell and the state of Middle-earth, but in this peaceful moment, there was an underlying tranquility that existed only in your shared presence.

You reached out, your fingers brushing over his hand, catching his attention. Elrond turned his gaze toward you, his expression softening instantly, a gentle warmth in his eyes that spoke volumes without a single word. His hand stilled beneath yours as you lifted it gently, bringing it to your lips. You pressed a soft, reverent kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the subtle texture of his skin, the weight of every moment shared between you both.

The air seemed to still as you pulled back, and Elrond’s eyes never left you. A gentle smile touched his lips, a small yet deeply meaningful expression that carried with it all the affection he often held in reserve. He lowered his gaze to your hand, then back up to your face, as though he were searching for the right words.

“You honor me beyond measure,” Elrond spoke quietly, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes softened as he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your knuckles in return. “And I am humbled by your love.”

In the simple act of kissing his hand, you felt the deep reverence he held for you, the silent acknowledgment of all that you had shared. It was a gesture of tenderness, but it carried more weight than just the kiss—it was an unspoken promise, an assurance that the love between you was both enduring and sacred. Elrond’s eyes locked with yours once more, a connection formed between the two of you, tender and filled with an affection that transcended words. The moment felt timeless, a small, intimate exchange of love that would stay with you both long after the evening passed.

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Shoulder kiss

The early morning light filtered gently through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the bedroom. The quiet stillness of the room was only broken by the steady rhythm of Elrond’s breathing as he lay beside you, his features relaxed in the peace of sleep. The soft warmth of the blankets cocooned you both, but your eyes were wide awake, watching him with the kind of affection that only a quiet morning could inspire.

You couldn’t resist the pull to be close to him, to wake him with the tenderness he always showed you. Gently, you reached out, your fingertips brushing across the smooth expanse of his bare shoulder. His skin was warm and soft beneath your touch, a quiet contrast to the coolness of the early morning air. Slowly, you pressed a kiss to the curve of his shoulder, the soft, tender contact brushing over his skin like a whisper of affection.

The sensation of your lips on his shoulder was enough to stir Elrond from his slumber. His breathing faltered, the warmth of sleep slipping away as he became aware of your presence beside him. At first, there was just a subtle shift, a small intake of breath, but then his body seemed to relax into the touch, as though he had waited for this moment to fully wake. His skin flushed, the unexpected kiss a reminder of the connection between you. The sound of a slow, contented sigh escaped his lips as he turned toward you, his eyes fluttering open just enough to meet yours.

For a moment, he simply gazed at you with sleepy adoration, his tired eyes filled with a quiet love. A soft smile curved his lips, the kind of smile that spoke of deep affection and warmth, something only you could bring to life in him. His arms moved instinctively, reaching out to pull you closer, enveloping you in his embrace as he nuzzled his face against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“Meleth nín,” he murmured softly, his voice thick with sleep yet full of affection. The sound of your name on his lips felt like the most intimate of blessings, each syllable wrapped in devotion. His hands, though still heavy with the drowsiness of sleep, caressed your face with gentle strokes, his touch tender as though memorizing every contour of you.

You felt him draw you closer, the space between you vanishing as he pressed his lips to yours in a deep, loving kiss. His kiss was slow, savoring, and as it deepened, you could feel the weight of his love, the way he poured all his affection into this simple, intimate moment. His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, his kiss a quiet declaration of everything he could never fully say with words.

When the kiss finally broke, Elrond rested his forehead against yours, his eyes half-lidded with affection. His breath came slower now, more even, the weight of sleep still lingering in his voice. He caressed your face with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, his eyes closing for just a moment as if memorizing the feeling of being close to you, here, in this quiet, sacred moment.

“I cannot imagine a better way to begin the day,” he whispered, his voice still soft and drowsy, but full of warmth and adoration. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as though he could keep you in this moment forever, the world outside fading into nothing.

There was no rush, no need for anything more. Just the simple peace of being in each other’s arms, the quiet love that seemed to speak louder than any words. It was a moment suspended in time, where everything outside of you both ceased to exist.

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Nose kiss

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, filling the room with a comforting warmth as Elrond sat beside you, engrossed in one of his many books. He was always absorbed in knowledge, often getting lost in the pages of ancient texts, his mind racing with ideas and thoughts that few could understand.

You sat close, your eyes occasionally flicking to the words, but more often than not, you were simply content to watch him. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his fingers turned the pages so delicately, and the way his voice occasionally hummed as he read aloud all captivated you.

As he read, your heart swelled with affection for him—the calm, steady presence he exuded. The thought of interrupting him with a small act of love was too tempting to resist, so you leaned over just enough to press a soft, playful kiss to the tip of his nose.

The gentle touch pulled him from the pages of the book, and Elrond froze for a brief moment. A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest as he looked up from the pages, his attention momentarily broken. His lips curved into a smile, his gray eyes softening with warmth and amusement.

“Such a playful love you are,” he said, his voice rich with affection as he closed the book with a soft, satisfied thud. His fingers lingered on the cover as he met your gaze, a smile tugging at his lips. “But I must admit, I enjoy the interruption.” There was a glint of amusement in his eyes, but also a deep sense of contentment as he turned his full attention toward you, the corners of his lips curling upward with genuine happiness.

He leaned in toward you, his lips brushing yours gently at first, his kiss slow and deep with all the quiet affection that had accumulated in the space between you during the evening. As you pulled away, he chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm in the silence of the room.

“I should be reading, but your love makes it hard to focus,” he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet teasing. The spark of joy in his eyes was unmistakable, and you knew that, for Elrond, moments like this—simple, tender, and full of affection—were just as meaningful as his study of ancient texts. In fact, these small interruptions were the moments that he cherished most.

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Elven ear kiss

The cool night air of Rivendell wrapped around you as you stood on the balcony beside Elrond, the vast sky above dotted with a thousand stars, their light reflecting in his eyes. He stood tall, his back straight, the weight of his thoughts evident in his posture, his gaze lost in the distance. For all his grandeur and wisdom, in this moment, he seemed as if he was simply a man—burdened, pensive, and human in his own way.

You couldn’t resist the pull to be close to him, to share in the quiet solitude of this night. You stepped behind him, your soft footsteps muffled by the stone beneath your feet. Slowly, your fingers brushed lightly across his back, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his tunic. He didn’t turn, didn’t speak, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, as though your touch had woven itself into his thoughts.

With a gentle breath, you leaned in, your lips softly finding the delicate tip of his pointed ear. The effect on him was immediate. A soft, audible gasp escaped him—caught somewhere between surprise and pleasure. His body tensed, and for the briefest of moments, you felt the weight of his usually composed nature falter. His hands, which had been loosely gripping the railing, tightened, the stone beneath his fingers creaking slightly with the force of his grip. His head tilted instinctively toward you, his ear more exposed to your kiss despite the vulnerability it brought him.

“Meleth…” The word was a breath, a plea that slipped from his lips, shaky with a tenderness he rarely allowed to show. There was something raw in his voice, a vulnerability that only you could evoke, and it stirred something deep within you.

You could feel the heat rising in his skin, the tension leaving him as the kiss lingered, his body relaxing into your presence. Slowly, he turned to face you, his gaze meeting yours in the moonlight. His gray eyes were darker now, filled with a depth of emotion that he rarely allowed others to see. There was longing in the way he looked at you, a silent hunger that spoke of more than just the moment you shared—it spoke of the bond between you, something unspoken, but deeply understood.

Without a word, his hands rose to cup your face, his touch reverent, as though he were tracing the very lines of your soul. He pressed his forehead gently to yours, closing his eyes as if savoring the nearness of you. The breath between you was quiet, shared, intimate.

“You undo me,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, the words barely more than a breath against your skin. His lips brushed against yours softly, the kiss tender at first, full of affection and deep yearning. But as the kiss deepened, so did the longing that had built between you, a powerful wave that threatened to break the calm surface. His lips moved with increasing urgency, yet still with the care and reverence he always showed you. His hands, now framing your face, held you close, pulling you into the moment as if time itself had no bearing on the truth of what you were sharing.

When the kiss finally broke, Elrond stayed close, his breath coming in soft, uneven pants, his forehead still pressed gently against yours. His eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a quiet intensity that took your breath away. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the words that could explain the moment not quite necessary.

Instead, Elrond’s hands remained on your face, his thumbs caressing your skin with the same tender devotion that had always been his way. “I’ve never known a love like this,” he murmured softly, the words full of awe, full of you. His lips, still warm from your kiss, pressed a final, sweet kiss to your forehead, as if sealing the moment with the softness of a promise that needed no words.

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Back of the neck kiss

The study was quiet, save for the soft scratching of Elrond’s quill against the parchment. The room was filled with the scent of aged paper and ink, the dim light of a nearby candle casting gentle shadows across the scrolls and books that surrounded him. His brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully transcribed ancient texts, his attention fully consumed by the task at hand. His usual grace and composure were evident, though there was a subtle weariness in his posture, a sign of the long hours he spent in service to his people.

You, however, were drawn to him not by the work, but by the man himself. As he remained absorbed in his study, you silently approached him, your footsteps barely a whisper on the stone floor. You stood behind him, watching for a moment, the peaceful rhythm of his writing almost hypnotic. A fond smile tugged at your lips, watching the way his fingers delicately held the quill, the quiet determination in his gaze.

With a soft sigh, you reached forward, your hands brushing gently against his broad shoulders. The moment your touch made contact, his body stiffened ever so slightly, a subtle tension running through him. It was only natural for him to be so engrossed in his work, but you could feel the faint ripple of surprise in him at your unexpected presence. He didn’t speak, though, giving you the silent permission you needed to continue.

Slowly, carefully, you leaned forward, your lips brushing softly against the back of his neck. The effect was instantaneous. His breath caught in his throat, and his quill stilled, hovering above the paper as he let out a quiet breath. His muscles tightened briefly, betraying the control he so often maintained, before he slowly relaxed into your touch. A soft sigh escaped him as he let the moment linger, the kiss a quiet reprieve from the weight of his responsibilities.

After a few moments, Elrond set his quill down with deliberate slowness, the motion as smooth as ever, though there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he placed it on the desk. His hand rose to cover yours where it rested on his shoulder, his fingers warm against your skin as if savoring the simple connection. “I fear you’ve stolen my focus entirely, meleth nín,” he said, his voice low and amused, the usual coolness replaced by a warmth that reached his tone. There was no frustration in his words—only affection, a reflection of his quiet joy in having you close.

You smiled softly, feeling the warmth of his hand on yours, your heart swelling at the love in his voice. Before you could respond, Elrond turned in his chair, his gray eyes soft with fondness as he pulled you gently into his lap. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close with a sense of protectiveness that was both comforting and intimate. You felt the strength of him around you, his embrace grounding you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

He kissed the soft flesh of your neck, the tender press of his lips sending a shiver through your body. “How can I think of anything but you when you are near?” he murmured, his voice thick with affection, the words as much a statement of truth as a quiet confession.

You could feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, as if savoring the moment, cherishing the intimacy that only the two of you shared. He pulled back slightly, his gray eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “The world can wait, for now,” he whispered, as though everything outside of this moment—this feeling—was secondary.

With a soft smile, he leaned in once more, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was full of love and longing, quiet and unhurried, as though time itself had suspended its passage. Elrond held you close, the work forgotten, his focus entirely on you. In that moment, there was no duty, no responsibility, only the warmth of your embrace and the love that flowed between you both—undisturbed, perfect, and lasting.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

[koiiiji]

HIII!! I've been reading your work for awhile🛐🛐 BUT I HAVE BEEN CRAVING MORE OF THE WAY YOU WRITE WOOIN ACTUALLY me and my friend have been reading your fics for awhile and go feral for them no specific scenario in mind TBH I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND THE WOOIN REQUEST!!🫶🏻🫶🏻

AHHH BIG LUV SIS APPRECIATE THAT U ENJOYING MY WORKS!! don't worry, my boy wooin are always welcomed here😌😌

im actually curious if you meant like possessive wooin? bc if so, good news, i have more here xo - xo

warnings : obsessive!wooin, my fav trop with him unrequited love, intrusive thoughts

notes : prob gonna do pt. 2 of this, bc this one kinda short, but not sure if u up to.. let me know!!

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

Wooin would never dare to confess his true feelings for you. especially since that bitch Sangho said that someone should keep an eye on such misfits as Sabbath and let him and Ryu Juwon know that they didn't cause any other problems. yet, deep down, he couldn't deny the pull you had on him. despite the fact that you and Sung been just + 2 to Yoo Bin, he couldn't overlook your talents in cycling and your captivating beauty. but hell, he would ever say something romantic in your direction first.

it didn't faze him that you often accompanied Yoo Bin, he immediately noticed that although you and he had a close relationship, you two shared only brotherly bond, one that made him feel like an outsider longing for more. yet, there was something about the way you looked at the Joker, the way you talked to Hyeok or any other random or nouname from the competition who thought he had a chance to get to know you. it left him restless, trembling with jealousy whenever you disregarded him. how could you? wasn't he a vibrant personality, adorned with all his piercings, splitted tongue and a bright fashion style? since you join crew, hell even from inception of Sabbath, he had been there, injecting humor, exuding charisma, demonstrating sharp wit with his abilities to find source of income, and in his honest opinion, displaying less sullen and gloom than the rest. he thrived on the spotlight, assuming the role of leader effortlessly. but you, little bitch, still decided to play hard to get with him and ignore him.

when once again he saved you from some annoying piece of shit who kept begging for your number, you look at him over your shoulder with those incredulous, innocent eyes and he felt the earth disappear from under his feet. ah, those eyes of yours... Wooin never imagined he could be ensnared by someone's gaze. with just a flutter of your lashes, and he forgot his prepared excuses or jokes he was about to use as an excuse for the fact that he once again found himself alone with you, and again, rescuing you from unwanted attention.

he despised this feeling, yet he couldn't bring himself to admit that it was you he liked. no, it was something deeper, something sinister. it was an obsession, boiling loathing and hatred of everything around you, and that's all you voluntarily turned your attention to, but not to him, even when he was desperately struggling.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

AHHHH SORRY!! I PLANNED TO MAKE IT DARKER BUT I FINISHING THIS ON LECTURE IN UNI sooo... u know... promise, i will do it darker, again if you guys are up to💋💋

[tunamayuuu]

It's obvious that ur art is gorgous and edible but THE WAY YOU DRAW EYES OHMYGOOOD

I love when artists pay attention to them (I'm doing it too) and aaaaaaa especially how you drew Atsushi's and Tecchou's eyes?!!?? Hello??

I just looked at ur sskk drawing and WAAAAH THIS ATSUSHI IS SO BEAUTIFUL EVERY TIME I LOOK AT HIM. TWO COLORED EYEBROWS & LASHES? LONG CLAW-LIKE NAILS?! I'M GOING FERAL I SWEAR 🗣️🗣️

Like. You're one of my biggest inspiration fr 🛐🛐

THANK YOU YAAAY! i also have a lot of fun thinking of how to differentiate eyes between characters, because it's anime anyway so better to give them some more uniqueness..

and also i think my attention to eyes comes with the fact that my favorite series of all time is

OH AND THANKS FOR NOTICING ATSUSHI'S TWO TONED EYE LASHES? LINER.. ARGH.. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO TELL ME THEY NOTICED THRU THE REBLOG NOTES...

[bokecrow2-1]

Aggh adding on to the last bit of your hc post I like to think Ace tries to get him to lash out sometimes to be able to see Deuce’s strength since Deuce holds himself back 24/7. And bc Deuce would never hurt him directly it’s an aggressive wall slam with Ace side eyeing that Deuce’s fist broke the bricks a bit

YESSSS OMG I'VE THOUGHT OF THIS TOO!! 🥹🥹🥹 He's just doing a more aggressive version of a kabedon, the brick wall cracking, small bits of brick and light dust that end up sprinkled over Ace's shoulder and Deuce's fist, that doesn't even seem that bruised (the guy bruised up the wall more than his hand, change my mind), he can clearly see a vein pulsing near his knuckles

Ace is side eyeing the fist, a drop of sweat slowly trickling down his jaw, he doesn't dare look in front from fear of seeing what a truly pissed off Deuce looks like

But hesitantly he slowly shifts his gaze from the damaged wall to an absolutely furious looking Deuce standing a few inches apart from him, he hasn't even broken a sweat, but there's splashes of red over his forehead, his usually straight nose is forming a snarl, his eyebrows pulled together creating a deep crease, and he's panting, his peacock-colored pupils are a tad smaller than usual, locked on a target... a red-haired target

Ace can feel his heartbeat get unusually faster, he wonders if it's from fear or something else... They're now both breathless, breathing the same air in this tight space between them that continues to get smaller and smaller

All he can do is force a satisfied smirk despite being shaken to the core, that's what he's been looking for, that pump of adrenaline from imminent danger

"Heh... just kidding!"

He says as he escapes through the gap under Deuce's raised arm, catching the other off guard, then runs for it, breaking into a sprint towards the mirror chamber, most likely to access ramshackle

Aaaaaa I got a bit carried away with this, ty anon!! You're so right about this, I too want to see Ace get his cocky self aggressively pinned to a wall 🛐

Despite everything, Deuce still doesn't hurt him, love to see it hehe

Also if we talk about running, we all know Deuce is gonna catch up with him but a chase is always fun 🤭

[sinnful-darling]

BAERRR THE MALE SIREN ONE WAS JUST SO— JRKEODKDDNDKSSKEKDJDJDK

SCREAMING. 🛐🛐🛐

He makes me wanna punch him in the face (romantically😳)

Are we getting a part 2 soon?? 🤭🤭

YAN! MALE SIREN PRINCE PT2

tws: manipulation mentions, abuse mentions, torture implications (not directed to the reader), domestic violence mentions, regicide,

i didn’t know y’all would like that so much 😭😭 but yes i can do a pt 2.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who, as mentioned before, is the eldest. He’s the heir of the Siren Folk and because of that, his parents are extremely strict.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who has scars on his back from lashings and has had scales ripped off of his tail as a punishment. His parents punish him when he doesn’t live up to their expectations, so he’s become very introverted and resentful because of this.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince whose name is Mattias.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who is natural kind and nurturing, but is also a master of manipulation. Be careful, his words might not be in your best interest at times!

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince whose father was not only abusive to him, but to his mother as well. Because of this, he plans on killing his father and taking the throne to protect his mother and his siblings.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who tried his best to protect his siblings and mother from his father’s wrath, but when his father laid hands on you, he snapped.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who kills his father in a blind rage, claiming the throne and immediately creates a law that protects all human lovers.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who, in case you were wondering, used a spell to permanently allow you to breathe underwater since you refused to become a Siren.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who is a better ruler than his father by far, but because of that, he doesn’t have much time for you anymore.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who wishes he left his home with you instead of becoming the King. He’d be able to spend more time with you that way…

♡Yan! Male Siren Prince who fakes your deaths and leaves his home to find a new place to live!

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who’s furious when he finds out his siblings figured out his plan and invited themselves >:((

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who begrudgingly admits that the more people there are to protect you and have eyes on you the better. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all… but you have to love him the most!

[soapskies]

Could I request yandere arkhamverse riddler (obviously platonic) with a kid who tries to run away by sneaking out at night, but end up getting caught?

Btw I love your writing it is just 🛐🛐🛐

ARKHAM RIDDLER CATCHES YOU SNEAKING OUT 💥🔫

MALE CHILD READER. PLATONIC HCS. CONTENT WARNING FOR CHILD ABUSE.

You had it all planned out, well, as much as a child your age could have it anyway

For a man who spent so much of his time cooped up in the lab, working tirelessly to outwit his nemesis, Edward was surprisingly good at keeping you in your place, as if he knew where you were at all times

You figured he must’ve been tracking you with those little black tags he put on the back of your shirts, and so with your little craft scissors (the only sharp object he allowed you to have), you cut them out as best you could.

It was difficult to make out the time, with being in a bunker and all (Edward was allergic to natural sunlight), so you used the watch Edward gave you last Christmas to wait until it was late at night, pretending to fall asleep.

You figured you had him fooled when he came to check on you at your bedtime, and all he did was tuck you in, extra snug…

You quietly snuck out of your room, leaving the tags you cut out on your bed

You knew there was an opening near his lab, big enough for you to fit through, and the only thing bringing fresh air in

You thought you had gotten away with it as you crawled through the vent carefully

All of a sudden, your watch switched on and off, playing an obnoxiously loud sound

And while you were desperately trying to shut it off, you fell right through the bottom of the vent, screaming your head off

Landing right into the clutches of your dear old father.

You swear you could see smoke coming out of his ears

“You really thought you could escape this place without me knowing? I’ll have you know, I’m always ten steps ahead of you!”

You find out later that the watch can’t be taken off…

He knew escaping wasn’t out of the question for you, but he figured you were too cowardly to go through with it

He’ll move your bed into his lab, and if you’re not there by a certain time, he’ll have to give you your lashes…

He doesn’t care that you can barely sleep at night because of how loud his work is

If you wanted to be able to function like a normal human being, then you should’ve behaved.

He’ll deprive you of food and water, see how long you last if you want to keep this up

He’s perfectly fine ignoring your whining in favor of his machines

If that doesn’t work, and you still reject his “fatherly love” (aka berating you as he awkwardly pats your back), or keep having these little fantasies about ever leaving him, well, there are other ways of making you do what he wants…

He’ll update the watch with a new feature: electroshock therapy!

Now now, if you don’t want to be convulsing on the floor like the pathetic little rat you are, maybe you shouldn’t act like such a brat.

If you do choose to comply, congratulations, you get to keep your food privileges for another day!

He’ll never admit that he’s anything short of a perfect father

Not that he would ever loosen the leash he has on you, but he would try his best to return your displays of affection, even if you’re only doing it to get on his good side…

Maybe even lessen his cruel comments towards you, y’know, as a reward for good behavior and all

Trust me, when he’s done with you, you’ll never set foot outside ever again.

[hyomaluvr]

i have come to ask for headcanons about rin because this rin simp is very stressed and in need of distraction. 🛐 THANK U IF U EVER FULFILL THIS

ofc! sorry i’m late, i’ve been thinking about this.

Itoshi Rin - NSFW Headcanons

cw // reader is a girl/or simply referred to using feminine words and pronouns

- rin’s the type of guy to get red in the face when you flirt with him. very much a tsundere who secretly fantasizes about you. the type of freak to huff a jacket you lent him in his room because he thinks you smell so good <3

- he loves hates when you smack his ass or grab a handful. you’ll get a surprised yelp from him and this seemingly stone cold boy will be falling all over himself trying to recover

- rin has a fat ass 100%. muscle toned but perky and plump in the right places and he’s so embarrassed when you point it out because how can you just SAY that?! what if he said he was staring at your ass all the time? it was true, but of course he wouldn’t say that!

- he’s so possessive despite treating you like you’re a bother in public all the time. he’s not above getting in fights, especially if it’s over you. he doesn’t have time for this bullshit, if someone gets too flirty and handsy with you he’s the first to pull out the “what are you doing with my girl?” that always tends to scare guys off given his physique despite his pretty face, and at the very least it makes you swoon. he loves it when you look at him like you’re in love with him, like you’re attracted to him.

- it’s like a drug. he can’t keep himself away from you when you’re seriously looking at him so intimately. throw yourself all over him as much as you want, he’s calling you a brat and telling you to let him practice, but flutter your lashes up at him and he feels like his knees are keeling.

- it’s not even like rin is a super sentimental guy! he’s definitely way more serious about his feelings than he lets on, and he is his fair share of sentimental, but he’s defiling you in his mind half the time. unfortunately, he’s got it bad, and it’s because of the former that he feels the latter. he wasn’t even interested in you at first. he was expressionless without a single breath being wasted on you every time you flirted with him (because you’d have to to get his damn attention), but one time you got shoved by another player ending up in his chest, yelping cutely as you crumpled into him. that’s when it hit him that oh, you’re much softer than he expected, and oh, he liked to hear you sound so pitiful.

- rin has had his fair share of shame over his fantasies. yes, he has tied you up, yes he’s handcuffed you, yes, he’s still embarrassed. he likes hurting you, but not inflicting pain on you. rather scaring you into submission, like you’re a little bunny rabbit for him to devour like a coyote. so cute making you squeal, so cute when you can’t shut your stupid slutty mouth…<3 he’s drooling at the thought

- rin’s never beaten sae in a fist fight but there’s a first time for everything, and that first time will 100% come if sae’s eyes linger on you for two seconds instead of just one, or he raises his left eyebrow at you or his right. if no one else gets to have you except him, sae is forbidden from ever even uttering your first name. who knows, maybe sae will have to call you by your last name, itoshi, in a few years.

- speaking of which can you imagine fucking on your honeymoon, or the night of your wedding? he’s feral, ripping your underwear with his teeth, bruising your thighs and marking your neck up for all your close relationships to see.

- rin prioritizes after care wordless, throwing a bottle of water to you, grabbing you some of his clothes to change into, washing your hair in the shower even. if you get an inch, you get a mile with him. you have special privileges. it’s why he holds your hand when he notices you walking a little too slowly and getting caught up in a crowd behind him, or he ties your shoelaces for you when he notices them untied, or why he leaves your favorite order from the bakery down the street at your door, or-

- rin is madly in love with you and he’s so so serious about always needing to touch you or vice versa </3 gotta claim his territory

[doing-something-unholy]

♱ About ♱

18+ only, minors dni

Twitter: D_S_Unholy

Bluesky: Sinhound.bsky.social

Text post tag: #Father Speaks

Ooc tag: #Father Rambles

Pictures of me: #in persona Christi

Audios: #literally ;) or on soundgasm at /u/sinhound

Aesthetic tag: #aes

Art tag: #art

Tip jar: $FatherAdrianUnholy

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Taken anon signatures: dream anon,🐱,🖤,🍃,🐇,🛐,♡,🪐,🌺,🌌,🐲,🔪,☦️,👁,🥺,☿,🦇,👑🖤,🪽,🍒,🥮, bitch anon, 🔆,✨️,✝️🐾,🍂,🗞🔍, raven anon, 🪆,💓,♠️,🫧,💜

Likes, favorites bolded: Hierophilia, c*tholic priests, collars, bondage, cnc, humiliation, praise, terato, blood, mild knife play, breeding, a/b/o, petplay, age difference, size difference, edging, overstim, dirty talk, objectification, fucked up dynamics (in fiction! think Hannibal), power imbalance, manipulation, corruption, orgasm control, cum

… to be continued ;)

Limits: detrans/misgendering, misogyny kinks, piss/unsanitary kinks, raceplay, weight-based degredation/feederism

---

Rp preference: I get super nervous in the dominant role with anonymous people, I strongly prefer playing the submissive.

---

This is a roleplay blog sorta, but I do answer asks ooc on occasion! I try to match the vibe of who's asking :') me and the oc i play are extremely similar anyways <3

Father Adrian Lupine is in his mid 20’s, average height, and fat. He has curly, wavy red hair that reaches the top of his collar, and soft features: brown doe-eyes with long lashes, a round jawline, a button nose, and full lips with a defined cupid’s bow. He has square glasses. He’s a little (a lot) insecure about his looks, his weight and ‘soft-ness’ in particular. If he were completely honest with himself, he really doesn’t mind being ‘pretty’ instead of ‘handsome’ (though he wouldn’t describe himself as either,) but he was teased mercilessly for it when he was younger, by his peers and his parents.

Adrian is bisexual, with a slight preference for men or masc people, and has known since he was 14. He also grew up Catholic, and knew to keep his mouth shut about it. He is completely in denial about being anything other than a cis man, but is still very respectful of other people's identities.

Adrian is mostly submissive and a bottom, but can be persuaded to dom/top, and is secretly very kinky for a priest. He might not have much or any practical experience, but he does have an internet connection and fantasizes a lot. 

Adrian is outwardly very friendly and polite, soft-spoken and kind. Inwardly, he’s anxious and lonely, feeling stifled by the collar while being terrified to lose the stability priesthood offers. He is very aware of the reputation of the Church, and notices who shies away from him when he’s wearing the collar. He knows there’s nothing he himself can do about that, but he goes out of his way to be as polite as possible in public, finding small ways to make sure people know he’s not ‘like that’, that he won’t berate others for not being a part of his religion. It’s really only on very rare occasion, usually alone, late at night, and post bottle of wine, that he allows himself to wonder why he became a priest knowing full well what the church is like. 

Recently graduated from seminary and moved to St. Sebastian Roman Catholic Church about a year and a half ago, but much of that first year was spent not holding mass. Instead it was spent renovating the church, which had sat empty for almost a decade. The building itself was quite grand back in the day, but the town it’s in has seen slight decline in recent decades, and after the last priest died it wasn’t a priority to keep it updated. Adrian secretly suspects the diocese put him here specifically to get him out of the way after being a little too open with ‘constructive criticism’ of the Church while in seminary. St. Sebastian is a very quiet parish, not a lot of catholics left in town these days, and Adrian is doing his best to make his church useful in ways that aren’t strictly religious: community food gardens, charity drives, movie nights, anything he can to build his reputation with the community. It’s a shame he has secrets that leave him afraid to let anyone get too close, lest he get reported to the diocese. 

—————–

AU's: Adrian is a human cis man by default, but if you want to rp with him in any au’s just let me know! The main two options are transmasc and/or werewolf, but im down for just about anything. put this man in situations ;)

—-

The person behind the blog is 25, transmasc, bisexual, and I am definitely not catholic. You can call me Wolf, just put ooc in an ask if you want to ask me something. I will probably get something about being a priest wrong but this is a smut blog so is it really that deep?

This is a sideblog! I won’t be able to follow you back, or send asks.💔

[simpjaes]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C2HvuDWo-pn/?igsh=YzV1ZTdvM2wybmcz

😭😭🛐

oh this one is [dangerous]

i dont know if anyone will ever understand how i bat my lashes at my pc screen every time u guys send me jay videos. pls never stop sending them to me.

[alyjojo]

Love Reading 🛐 - June 2024 - Capricorn

Singles:

Who is Coming In: 9 Swords rev & Ace of Cups rev

Regarding: 6 Swords rev

Long-Term Potential: 7 Wands

I’m assuming this person is the one that’s rejected you before, based on messages. You or they are coming back around after a long time of being alone, or at least away from you “alone”, like a lot has changed with them due to life life-ing and all of that. Or one of you could live at a distance so seeing each other is once every couple of years, maybe, if at all. You seem to be the one that’s been waiting for them to make a comeback, you keep expecting the two of you are going to end up together…or at least go out once? They aren’t pressed about it at all though. This could’ve been a missed opportunity or connection in the past, a one night flirtation that really got to you, one that’s stayed in your head rent-free while they just moved on with their lives.

I think you two, or at least one of you, is moving on to someone else and that’s what ultimately blocks this or causes the rejection. Long term, you’re defensive you ever waited, this person is a waste of your time…unwillingly. They didn’t intend for that, they’re just living.

Messages:

- Wise Spirit

- My heart wasn’t truly in this.

PARTYING 🎉

- Time With Friends

- Having Fun

- Happily Single

- Living in the Moment

Good grief. Don’t take things personally.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Virgo & Leo

Couples:

Them: The High Priestess, Knight of Swords, 9 Wands rev

Regarding: 3 Pentacles

This person is a perpetual people pleaser, and your side has some anger issues, which they aren’t discussing - for the sake of keeping the peace. Red Flag shows they see it, they know what’s up, they can feeeeel it with The High Priestess here. But they don’t address it. They probably don’t want to piss you off (again?) Being a people pleaser is its own red flag, because this person isn’t direct, they don’t communicate openly, they aren’t transparent and are kinda manipulative with The Magician. But it’s like…manipulative to inspire teamwork, go along to get along, they seem to enjoy the time they spend with you - with Coffee Cup here. They like talking with you, but don’t like calling you out or holding you accountable, maybe because of how you respond. So I guess that’s my job. You’re a hothead with no self-control, get a grip. If not anger, then sexually. This person wants you to figure it out on your own, handle it, and be peaceful where they are concerned - I’m getting this is your problem to deal with, not theirs.

Messages:

- Red Flag 🚩

- Sweet as Candy 🍭

COFFEE CUP ☕️

- Meeting & Talking

- Savoring the Moment

- Feeling Elevated

- Building Friendship

Om Sweet Om

You: 5 Cups rev, King of Wands, Strength rev

Regarding: Ace of Wands

Spirit is coming for you, you’ve got two different Devils in your own messages - shadow energy is reigning over your conscious awareness and you don’t even see it. In fact, you hold onto it like a comfort zone, and probably defend it as well. Or would if this person spoke up and said anything. Ace of Wands is passion, excitement, fleeting moments of feeling ALIVE (or angry) when you clearly otherwise could give a fuck less - 7 Cups & 4 Cups. Or you have several different options, a whole little black book of bitches and none of them satisfy you. Nothing does. You’ve tried to heal this with this person - but King of Wands is how you’re showing up, and this King gets what he wants. He makes sure of it.

To the point of absolute ANGER, lashing out, confidently standing by your own complacency, apathy, and boredom. Trying to get his person on board with putting up with the bs. They have, not because they don’t see it, but because it’s not their job to fix - it’s yours. And you could make them feel very uncomfortable. I don’t see you giving a single fk, especially with the Oracle - you stand by this way of being, believing or behaving. To the point of narrow-mindedness - 4 Pentacles, Cap energy with these Devils. Your own mentality and insistence on being right is your self-undoing. This can also refer to being emotionally cut off and basing things off of passion alone - which isn’t an authentic existence…but do you. Probably a crosswatching read, this isn’t the type of person who goes seeking “meaning” 😆

Messages:

- Dark Desires 👿

- Shadow Self 😈

SWORD & ROSE 🗡️🌹

- Clarity & Truth

- Revelations

- Honor & Protection

- Determination

Fresh out of fucks, and embracing inner peace.

Mutual: Queen of Swords rev, The Hanged Man rev, 6 Pentacles rev

Regarding: 8 Swords

Self sabotage is 8 Swords. Not communicating or holding you accountable, going along to get along, depending on what is actually known or not, there is hurt here. Shadow is all over your side, like an entitled energy with King of Wands, you think you not only get to behave in this way, act out of these narrow-minded perspectives & defensiveness, but that you deserve to. For whatever reason, you’re placing yourself and your beliefs, needs, desires, whatever - above this other person. On a pedestal.

There is a lot of anger held by this person most likely, or Queen of Swords rev may be you being a cold & bitter betch (she is that), a major perspective shift/ego death is needed - and may somehow be reflected in this person in a way that you can’t deny it. The only way out of this is through it directly, addressing not just a lack of reciprocation in the connection - but arrogance about it. And “it” being the release of toxic habits & patterns in the connection. Neither party is interested in working on themselves or taking responsibility for their part. It’s made out to be equal but none of this is looking equal. They don’t like to be confrontational or argue, and you wouldn’t change your behavior even if they were. It’s still healthier getting out your feelings (throwing down) then keeping it all quiet and shit, at least then you both can make a solid decision moving forward. No one is being authentic here, that’s the Mirror.

MIRROR 🪞

- Mirroring Each Other

- Self-Reflection

- Introspection

- Inner Wounds

Show up and throw it down.

Just kidding but seriously though.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy Capricorn, Gemini, Leo & Sagittarius