#but also he looks so good in black sooooo

[buildoblivion]

a jon snow and some hypothetical!jon snows

Lord Commander! Jon

King in the North! Jon

Prince!Jon

[dollerines]

How I entered the void so easily after 1 year of trying

So after 1 year and half of trying to enter I finally did it and I am so mad because it REALLY IS SOOOOO EASY and tbh if in this post you are looking for any sort of validation or info you smart ass already know then please REMEMBER THIS : entering the void is extremely easy. You just have to do it in a way that resonates with you.

Personally for me since I had adhd I couldn’t just stay still and affirm for 1 or even a few for 10 mins. Not just because I was lazy but because just repeating “I am in the void” for so long gets me tired and makes me think of the void more and you actually don’t want to think too deeep about it. I couldn’t wake 3 hours prior and then affirm or even have the patience to do the psych k, yes I was extremely lazy back then and unpresistent but one thing that helped me even backed then was THE ALPHA STATE MEDITATION !

You just have to find what works for you, find a method technique whatever you want to do that doesn’t seem like a chore. So In a post back then I found on @gorgeouslypink acc talking about doing the alpha sate meditation and I tried it back then and I felt really relaxed and it was a good feeling but like I said back then I was realllly lazy so after a few mins I stopped. Then many months later passed and I was still looking for anything and everything on the void. Then just like two days ago I came across another post which was pretty simple and the technique I used was called the DISTRACTED TECHNIQUE.

All there was to do was the usual you get into a comfortable position and then she said to use the alpha state meditation and used the one gorgeouslypink recommended. So I used it and then what she tell you to do is to just think of anything else just get distracted basically and this WAS SO GOOD 4 ME because back then I had adhd so it made it harder to concentrate on just affirming and so yeah I just thought of random things and then at some point where I was completely distracted I felt my body like lift up 😭 if that makes sense I just can’t clearly describe it. It felt really like a shift and I was like ‘panicking’ in a way but I wasn’t actually panicking I just kinda became aware what was going and then I got scared a little but I just relaxed shortly after. Also my fan that was making like a loud noises was coming in an out and then I only hear it in one ear and then I didn’t hear anything and I just stayed there wondering if I reached the void and i actually was!!! I didn’t feel my body it felt like I had no body at all and it was pitch black just like how I imagined the void to be. For a few minutes I just stayed there feeling the most surreal peace I have ever felt. I needed that peace fr 💀.

So then I affirmed for my desires all I said was “I have all my desired results from my subliminal playlist.” Then just to be extra sure I just said “I have everything I want.”

At that point I got really excited and then I wiggled my toes to get out because I was too dam happy I needed to see all my shit the moment I wake up and then I slowly started getting out and when I tell you I cried for like a good dam minute when I woke up and saw how DIFFERENT. My room looked. I literally screamed onto my pillow. I was so dam scare and yet excited to see how I looked.

WHAT I MANIFESTED :

Desired body and face

Having silky straight tailbone length hair cuz mines was originally curly

And everything in my sub playlist

My desired boyfriend and guys I made him be like Gojo Satoru ( because we are all delusional over him 🤪) and let me tell you he is so tall, handsome, sexy and a literal god. He is so silly too 🩷

Moving countries I now live in ny

Never actually meeting my ex and all the people in my old school forget me and have actually never even met me. Like if u asked them about me they have never heard or known me before

Extremely rich rich like hella bands

Got rid of my anxiety and mental health issue

Plus +++

NEVER EVER GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS.

Even if the circumstances seem to be eating you alive don’t mind that too much. Even if all seems hopeless don’t give up because you already know nothing can decide or be unless you give it power to be. So stop being goofy and take responsibility and DONT STRESS!! You don’t see God stressing do you. All he has to do is blink and whatever he wants to happen, happens. Plus a lot of confidence came from non dualism that I owe a huge thanks to @trynafindbarbiee she really said it like it is !!

YOU GOT THIS ML 🩷🩷🩷🩷

[frankenbridez]

MIA WHAT IS UR PROBLEM !!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥💥💥💥💗💞👹💫

🖤 HAPPY BIRTHDAY @frankenbridez !!! 🖤

JENJEN JENNNNNNNNNNNN ILY ILYYYYYYY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🥹🥹💓💓💖💖💞💕💕🩷🩷🩷🩷💞💞💓💓💖💖💞💓💓 I HOPE YOURE HAVING THE BESTEST BIRTHDAY (dethday ahahaha) EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[starsluver]

Random Facts About the Slytherin Boys

Part 1

Mattheo Riddle

In the first year, no one believed that he was related to Voldemort. mainly because no one thought he'd have a child

He also fluently speaks Spanish since he was raised by his mother (ngl I believe that Mattheo is either Guatemalan, Mexican, Colombian, or Puerto Rican) cause his father didn't want anything to do with him until he got older

Had a side part phase for most of his first through fourth year because his mom liked it until his fifth year where he learned how to take care of his natural hair and he takes VERY big pride in it, he literally spends all his money and time on it and REFUSES to let anyone touch it.

He got the scar on his eyebrow from trying to give himself a slit eyebrow in his third year because he'd thought he'd look cool but ended up with a scar and his mom yelling at him but tells everyone he got it from a fight

He got the scar on his nose in his sixth year from banging his nose on a sink but tells everyone that he got from a fight with a guy from racenclaw (Theo's the only one that knows the truth)

Secretly a theatre kid

Has the messiest hand writing, literally no one can read it.

Silver Tooth Kid activities !!!!!!

He had perfect grades until 5th year when he started slacking off cause his dad would always pressure him to get good grades

had a THICK Spanish accent and was kind of used to get made fun of for it. He barely speaks it around people which is pretty much why most people completely forget he's Latino

Made friends with Blaise, Enzo, Theo, and Draco in that exact order

Blaise thought Mattheo looked like he was gonna cry when his mom dropped him off at the train station first year. so he and Mattheo played on his Nintendo DS the whole train ride

Enzo soon met Mattheo in their second year after Blaise introduced them.

Afterward, Enzo introduced Theo to Mattheo that same year. They bonded over the fact no one else understood what they were saying and that they had deadbeat dads

"Blaise, what are they saying?"

"Don't know but at least they're getting along!"

His middle name is Andrés

He grew up with two cats and a dog. He had a ginger cat named Garfield who died from obesity because Mattheo wouldn't stop feeding him table scraps. He currently still has a black cat who he named Loki until later on finding out it was a girl because she got pregnant and had kittens, renames her Kali (inspired by Kali Uchis 😛) he currently has a pitbull named Dodger

He met Draco through Blaise again

"why do you talk like that?"

"why does your face look like that?" In a HEAVY Spanish accent

Used to bite people he didn't like

Sassiest 1st year

He was so obsessed with death note in his third year that he'd put the names of people he didn't like in the book hoping they'd just randomly drop dead. (They didn't)

He had a crush on Padma Patil since his FIRST YEAR TO HIS SIXTH YEAR. And even thought of asking her to the yule ball until he realized she was going with Ron. He beat Ron up as soon as he found out and told him to stay away from his girlfriend. (He never even had a conversation with her)

Theodore Nott

He was SUCH a cute 1st year. All the older girls would tell him how cute he was and he thought he was sooooo cool.

Didn't know English until his second or third year and barely anyone understood what he was saying.

Enzo met Theo when he saw Theo alone on the train ride. Enzo showed Theo his Pokemon collection cause neither of them understood each other and Enzo was basically his only friend at the time.

"anch'io ho quella carta!"

"🤨🤨🤨"

Eventually Enzo introduced him to Blaise and Mattheo. Where him and Mattheo bonded the most

"è un tale sollievo che qualcuno mi capisca!"

"¿que es eso güey?"

Theo met Draco long after through Lorenzo again

"why can't anyone here speak proper English?!?"

"il furetto,"

"Ki sa l menm ap pale de?" (I feel like Blaise is Haitian on his mom's side idk why but I'll explain it in the next part!)

"pinche guëro"

He was named after his father and had two middle names. Niccolo and Brando (the real ones know)

He grew up in the country side of Italy and was a VERY energetic child

He started smoking after a random 5th year asked if he wanted a hit in his 1st year

Perfect grades and handwriting

He's secretly friends with Neville and Luna because they secretly sell weed on the side but also the fact that he was also a loner and refuses to let any of his friends bully them.

Had a crush on Ginny and thought of asking her to the yule ball until Mattheo told him she was dating Dean Thomas (he cried himself to sleep)

[evolnoomym]

Bigger than the whole sky 🌌

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Pt.2🌠 | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: You meet Joel and well of course you fall for each other. It’s a bit bumpy since he’s your Dads best friend. But things seem to work out until they don’t anymore. One event changes everything.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: no use of y/n, pov switches that might be confusing, female reader, reader has hair, reader wears makeup, reader can get pale, weight loss, implied childhood abuse, trauma, angst, heavy angst(?), implied smut, alludes to pregnancy, funerals, coffins, reader has no name only a bunch of nicknames, size difference, dbf!Joel Miller, mentions of throwing up, loss of a loved one, grief, depression (?), food and eating issues are mentioned, talks of having a baby, Blood, dark thoughts, intrusive thoughts, age gap, readers age is not exactly mentioned but Joel is 44, talks of getting married….

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @almostfoxglove ‘s Angst Writing Challenge. Shoutout to her she created the moodboard, it’s sooooo beautiful. 🫶🏻

Shoutout to @thecutestgrotto and @cafekitsune for the dividers 💙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is also only my second time posting writing for a specific character. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. This not beta read btw only by my eyes and they hurt after starring at the screen for so long 🌌🫶🏻

And lastly I’ll leave some songs i listened to while writing <3

loml by Taylor Swift

Black Friday by Tom Odell

This is what the drugs are for by Gracie Abrams

I guess by Mitski

Present by Lloyd Vaan

Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson

Home by Daughter

Allowed to be Happy by Gustavo Santaolalla

Song on the Beach by Arcade Fire, Owen Pallet

aisatsana [102] by Aphex Twin

Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens

Francis Forever by Mitski

A House In Nebraska by Ethel Cain

Medicine by Daughter

Youth by Daughter

I can barely say his name by Patrick Jonsson

listen before I go by Billie Eilish

You remember exactly how you met Joel Miller, it was so simple. He was the one to give your Dad a job at the construction company he led together with his younger brother Tommy. In the beginning you only heard how great of a boss he supposedly was through your Dads stories. 

Joel and him seemed to have grown into real good friends in the span of mere weeks. You always had wondered what the man from his stories was like in person, up close. 

When you had to drive to the construction site to bring your Dad his lunch he had forgotten due to being a bit busy that morning. It seemed like your wishes to meet Joel would become reality. You didn’t think the big boss would spend his precious time with the actual building process but as you'd figure out in the future, Joel is a hands on kinda guy. 

You must’ve looked super out of place and quite lost when he approached you. His Texas drawl still echoed through your head hours later. „Well Hello Darlin, lookin for someone?“ and if that alone didn’t completely blew you away, then certainly his stunning looks. When you turned towards the voice a tall, broad and awfully handsome man looked back at you.

After an awkward beat of silence he stretched his hand out towards you “Apologies sweetheart, should’a start with the name, huh?” Tilting his head slightly “Name’s Joel, Joel Miller.” At that you let your hand slip onto his outstretched one. His hand was so huge, warm and calloused. Shaking his hand kinda calmed you down Joel Miller was absolutely lovely. “Nice to finally meet the famous Joel Miller that my Dad keeps yapping about nonstop.” You giggled while cheekily winking at him. 

That must’ve been a key moment for everything that was to follow. You’d see Joel again and again. Whether due to your Dad inviting the single, 44 year old Man over or due to you having to deliver your Dad’s forgotten food. 

The tension was slowly building higher and higher between you two until one day in Joel’s office you could no longer hold back. 

Joel stood in his office with you by his side, in front of a pinboard containing all sorts of information about his newest project. He was animatedly explaining processes you’d never understand in a million years. You actually kind of tuned him out and just enjoyed being unbelievably close to him. 

Then his face kinda looked confused. Oh no he must’ve asked you a question. Shaking your head you say  “Mhhh sorry, what did you just ask?” Joel tilts his head towards you the way he always does and then states “Ya didn’t listen to a single word I just said, right Sweetcheeks?” 

He always comes up with the most ridiculous nicknames that cause a vicious pull in your lower stomach. You lost count of how many conversations with him ended in drenched panties. 

“I….i -of course I was listening to you, why wouldn’t I?” You stammered a bit offensively, surely he’d see right through you. 

“Hm kay, so what was I talkin bout, gorgeous?” He’s teasing at this point. 

“Ok I wasn’t listening but that is a lot I don’t get anyway so can you really blame me, Miller?” You fired back. 

“So, whatcha thinkin bout inside of that pretty little head of yours, instead of listening to me?” You just scoff at him “Let’s not pretend you don’t know exactly what I was thinking about Joel.” Pointing one accusing finger at his broad chest. At that motion Joel enveloped your wrist in one of his massive hands, pulling you closer that way. Until you were right in front of him, only a tiny space left between your faces. “Why don’t ya tell me whatcha thinkin about Baby?” 

He must know, just by seeing how your eyes keep slipping down to glance at his pillowy lips, what is going through your head. You’ve been dancing around this topic, the tension, the pull towards each other, how forbidden it is for all of this to happen. Joel is your Dads Best friend and he’s twice as old as you are but you know that if you don’t kiss him right now you’ll go insane. It’s all you think about, kissing him and then some more. 

For the first time in years you actually consider letting someone get so close again. Joel would never hurt you like the ones before him did, no, he’s mature and wouldn’t play any of those stupid games. You know how kind, considerate, protective and caring he is for the ones he loves. Sure it won’t be easy to explain any of this to your Dad but you can’t think about that right now, no, you have to kiss Joel, it’s the last thought before leaning up to push your lips against his. 

One chaste kiss that erupted into a full blown make out session that only got interrupted by some frantic knocks at Joel’s Office door. 

From that day on those meetings became a routine, in his office, his truck, his house or sometimes he’d take you out of town for a super secret Date. The thrill of hiding with the possibility of getting caught soon turned into shame for lying to your Dad so much. You wanted to tell him even though it scared you more than anything how he might react. 

Surprisingly though he didn’t completely freak out, of course he was shocked and confused how this combination came to be. More than anything he took the lying personally and made clear that as long as you are happy, so is he. If Joel was the one then so be it, besides your Dad has a lot of respect for Joel and knows you're in good hands. 

After 3 months of being an official couple Joel asked if you’d be happy to move in with him. You had to think about it for a long time, feeling quite guilty about leaving your Dad behind but he reassured you that he would be fine on his own. He told you that a grown woman like you shouldn’t have to live with her boring old man anymore than you already did. 

So you moved into Joel’s house. And what followed were months filled with wonderful memories. Many barbecues were held, your Dad and Joel always standing at the grill together, each nursing on their beer bottles. 

Whenever you wanted to try a new recipe your Dad was invited over so you could make sure he still ate enough, the night always ending with you sending him home with a bunch of Tupperware's filled to the brim with deliciously homemade meals. 

When you wanted to paint the walls in the living room a new shade your Dad came over to help. 

Making sure his baby girl is happy and content was your Dads number one priority. 

Then one day you went over to his house to catch up a little bit, just you two having some Dad and Daughter one on one quality time. 

He was so excited when you told him that Joel and you want to have a baby. 

He told you what a great mother you’d make because of how wonderful you always have been with kids and how much you always wanted to have kids of your own. 

To others it might’ve been weird to share such an information with their Dad but you have such a close bond that it’s not weird at all. 

You were so happy on the drive home cuz you know what great grandpa he’d make. 

It must've been exactly one week later when you woke up with an indescribable feeling in your chest. As if the world spun a little slower, or the air felt more compromising…whatever it was you couldn’t stop feeling like something had happened. 

Your intuition only perked up more when your Dad didn’t show up for the usual Sunday’s breakfast you recently started doing. 

After 8 calls that nobody picked up you told Joel you would drive over there and as if he knew that you would need him for whatever was awaiting you there, he came with you. 

The closer you got to the house the worse you felt. Hands sweaty, heartbeat racing and your stomach felt like turning over at the sight of the house. Usually he would be up by now playing his obnoxiously loud music that you’d hear on the street through the open kitchen window. Instead it was eerily quiet. 

When Joel had parked the car he told you to wait for him but you couldn't. You just ran up the steps, unlocked the door with your spare key and bolted through the house as if on instinct you skipped up the steps to his bedroom. You flung the door open and there he was. Just laying on his designated side with his glasses still on and one hand on his chest across his heart. He looked like he was just sleeping but deep down you knew he was not. You can’t remember a lot, only that you immediately bolted towards the bathroom to empty your stomach out, Joel came up too and tried  comforting you through the heaving. Then he tried to get you away from the scene. Joel took care of everything while you just locked up inside of yourself. No tears, no screams, no words, not a singular reaction just nothing. Joel had never seen you look so…empty. 

Later on the authorities would say it’s just natural cause, he simply passed in his sleep, nothing dramatic. Not the kind of closure you would have wanted. It didn’t matter how “normal” it was, your world stopped spinning entirely. Everyone seemed to go one but you just stopped. 

Suddenly without any foreshadowing everything was completely flipped on its head. You loved him so much, he was your best friend. He told you all the time how much he loved you even with all your struggles. You’d never have to prove your worth to him; he'd love you no matter what. In his eyes you were a gift, opposite to your mother that looked at you as a burden. You never felt loved by her. She took away your precious childhood and forced you to grow up quickly. So you could take care of her. Even when you told her how close to the edge you were she always made everything about herself. Out of your parents the one person that actually wanted you, died and with him so did your willingness to continue with the fight against all your inner demons.

You lost yourself after that. For weeks you just slept, barely moving, only getting up to use the toilet and perhaps eat something small and drink a bit. Joel had to shower you, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it yourself. Who you were before losing your Dad was gone, as if you died with him. 

Joel tried everything in his power to make you feel better. One time he wanted to paint with you since you loved to do that, but the moment your eyes caught sight of the little paint pots you ran for the toilet to empty out your stomach. Later on he realized his mistake, you used to paint with your Dad a lot all the way back in your childhood so of course that would not make you feel better. Then he tried playing music for you either your favorite songs from your playlist or on his guitar. Nothing, you just continued to be completely catatonic. 

Then the funereal came, a day Joel dreaded he was not sure you’d be able to handle it. In the morning he made your hair and applied a bit of makeup, he watched you do your little routine often enough to know what he was doing. Afterwards he dressed you in a simple black dress and equally black flats. Walking only worked since Joel kept you upright. 

Sitting in the front row bench at the chapel you looked like a ghost. Pale and sunken in. You were asked to do a speech about your Dad but that would’ve been impossible. So Joel went up to do it instead. You just stared straight ahead at the coffin, not sparing a glance towards Joel. 

And once everything was over, the people, mostly his colleagues, paid him their respects. When everyone was gone you stayed and just laid your head on the coffin silently sobbing, which was the most emotion Joel had seen in weeks from you. Only he was to witness this vulnerability. 

Staring at the completed grave was just as daunting. His name is written in cold stone. All that’s left is this hole in the earth and a stone on top with his name. 

You walked away without sparring another glance toward the grave.

Then it seemed like you were getting better. You spoke more, ate more and slept less. You even searched out body contact with Joel, though it was just some cuddling and gentle kissing. But he took it as a step in the right direction. 

You almost fully returned to your old self but Joel could have not predicted how wrong he would be. 

He should’ve listened to his gut that told him something was off when you didn’t kiss him goodbye before he left for work that morning. 

You know how hard it will be but there’s no other choice. You have to get away, you have to leave so he can find someone better, someone who deserves a man like Joel Miller, someone less troubled, someone normal. 

Those fears you have now, always were inside of you but with your Dad passing they just all came to the surface. Grief killed you, it took everything, it’s as if you're in a room with a beautiful glowing bulb and some dark entity just rips it away. You're left in the dark and not even Joel’s light can make it better. 

You lost something nothing can replace. 

All your life you feared what would happen if you’d lose someone like this without any way of getting closure, he died without any warning just poof and gone he was. 

Your final goodbye was never said. 

Now you can’t remember how he used to be, you only remember him laying in his bed without moving a damn muscle,dead. You were the one to find him and even though it was not some unsettling scene it’s not leaving your head. You try hard to remember how he spoke that sarcastic tone he usually used. 

You can’t remember his face anymore, not even looking at pictures brings him back and at the same time he’s all you think about as if he’s haunting you. You hate him for leaving you so early. Why him? What kind of curse was laid upon you that everything always seems to fall apart when you think it’s finally working out. 

It’s as if some higher up can sense that you are happy and content with your life and they don’t want to give you that sorta life. 

The moment your brain processed what had happened you fell into the darkness like a big hole that sucked you in without any way out. Anyone around you could be another loss so what do you do? You leave, you disappear so no one gets hurt by whatever is wrong with you. 

Looking at yourself hurts because it’s him you see and it’s him you hear in your head he’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Sometimes you feel like you’re hallucinating because you swear to see him round the corner, you can almost hear him call out but when you try to look there’s nothing. 

Sometimes but much rarer than you’d like to admit you’ve visited the grave, sometimes you speak to no one. Sometimes you scream in agony till you almost lose consciousness from the lack of oxygen. Sometimes you just stare. 

It’s a sick twist of events considering how often he walked on cemeteries with you as a child. You didn’t understand the meaning behind them back then, you only loved to admire the beautiful flower ornaments laying on top of the graves. Your dad always told you how soothing these walks seemed for you. 

One time he took you and you had so much fun admiring the flowers giggling and smiling. Your dad wanted to tell you off since it’s a place where people grieved especially with a woman sitting nearby crying. He went to apologize to her on your behalf but the woman told him not to. She thought it was an uplifting sight to see little you having so much joy about the flowers, that’s a story he always kept telling you again and again. 

All your life those walks soothed your frayed mind. The quiet somber energy is something no other place could compare with. Now it’s the last place you’d wanna be in. The moment you step foot on the property, the panic starts to creep up on you. The closer you get to him the worse it gets. 

Sometimes the voices in your head scream to just start digging into the earth to get him out of that godforsaken coffin. Look at him, do something to bring him back. If the devil would show up to take you instead of your dad you’d do it. He was a troubled man but he tried so hard. He did not deserve any of this, he should’ve been here for all the good times yet to come. 

You imagined him walking you down the aisle, having that stupid first look with him where he’d surely try so hard not to cry but looking at his baby in a wedding dress would’ve been way too much for him to stay strong. You imagined having your first dance with him. 

You imagined how excited he would’ve been to hear that he was going to be a grandpa. In your head you can see him with a little baby that looks just like you. But none of this will ever happen; he's dead. 

Sometimes it’s hard to even look at Joel. He's connected to him as well; he was his boss and one of his closest friends. It’s not fair you know but in your head you see Joel and your dad laughing on the porch about some old men shit like always making their awful dad jokes. Or drinking a beer together or looking to fix something around the house. 

The house, Joel’s house and a place your dad spent a lot of time in. Walking through the hallways is not pleasant anymore, the couch is avoided as best as you can. He used to sit here all the time watching soccer games with Joel. The chair at the dining table he always sat on had to be removed simply seeing it made you sick and eating was already a hefty struggle since he passed. 

He left a mark anywhere and all of it was getting too much. The pressure in your head becomes more and more unbearable. 

Even though you tried to push all those negative festering thoughts away the voices could not be shut up no matter what you tried. 

The worst was when they started to go for Joel, suddenly all you could think of was how he’d die. Joel is only 10 years your dad’s junior. So if he died then why not Joel too. 

So many horrible scenarios played out inside your mind. Car accident, some freak accident on a construction site, getting attacked by multiple people, torturing him slowly, beating him to death, his head all split open, blood everywhere, or what if he gets shot by some crazy Texan who loves guns. There really was not a scenario left to imagine. 

Nightmares in the most cruel ways destroying you slowly from the inside out. And that just proved how one thing can make an avalanche of events happen. He was your purpose for most of your life, you only continued to play this game called life because you could not leave him. And now he left you. 

One time he told you how if it weren’t for you he’d be dead or in jail since there would be no reason to give a damn about his life. He was just like you, living for others instead of for himself. No one understood you like him. Somewhere deep inside you know he wouldn’t want you to blame yourself so much but that singular fact does nothing compared to all the ever suffocating darkness. 

You’d give anything to have him back, feel his warm embrace one more time, hear him say how much he loves you, have him tell you one of his stories, have him tell you it’s going to be alright, take one more look and inhale his signature scent. You have one of his shirts doused in his favorite perfume, it’s what you used to do in all those years you lived far away from him during childhood. Now it does not help like it did back then. What remains of him? Nothing, all of his stuff shoved into a storage unit looked up, buried just like him. 

You know Joel tried hard to be supportive and not push you too hard. Sometimes you wished he would’ve just screamed at you, slapped some sense into you and told you to stop being such a disgraceful mess. That’s what they would’ve done. 

But Joel is not like that,  he helped you so much. Putting himself so far behind. So much so that you feel sorry he has to deal with an ill girlfriend, that’s what you are, a mental wreck. 

He deserves better treatment than the lackluster one you have given him in the last months. He deserves to be free of your weight dragging him down towards the abyss. Even though he told you in the beginning that he loves you with all the baggage and all the challenges, you cannot let him continue to waste his time. 

Besides you’re convinced he’d leave you anyway like everyone before one way or another you end up alone. You have no control of the situation but if you leave then you have the control it still hurts but it’s the only option in your head. 

The decision was made weeks ago, it felt wrong to lie to Joel to keep him thinking everything is fine only to then rip it all away but perhaps it’ll make him hate you so it’s easier. If he hates you then he will be able to move on with his life. Burn all you build together down.

 And then you knew today would be the day. You couldn’t bear to kiss him in the morning; it would only make everything harder. Some time after he left you got up. One last time using the shower you both occasionally used together having foam party’s, giggling, washing each other and then kissing, touching till it leads to you with your cheek squished against the tile and Joel behind you ferociously hitting that special spot inside of you, till you both reach your high. Now you’re alone staring at that specific spot in the tiles, too much so you turn away. 

One last time looking at yourself in the mirror above the sink, the mirror Joel and you both looked into while brushing your teeth. You dry your hair, put on fresh clothes, nothing too dramatic, just some simple black leggings and a black cotton shirt. 

Then you start packing the most important stuff into two big suitcases. Basically only clothes, some hygiene products and a few trinkets that you don’t want to leave behind. The rest can be either sold by Joel or thrown away. You don’t care, the less holding you back the better. 

Once the suitcases are packed you haul them down the stairs towards the front door. And then you just wait. For hours you sit at the dining table just staring ahead at the wall opposite where so many photos of Joel and you hang so many memories and you’ll destroy it. 

You should feel bad but these days you barely feel anything, numb is what you think you feel most of the time. Maybe that’s what your ex meant when he said that you don’t own a heart, that you’re a cold blooded mean person. Someone who plays with people until they stop serving their purpose, that's what he said. 

It’s almost 8pm, Joel should be home soon. You have practically studied the words you’ll say. An Uber already ordered to arrive 15 minutes after he should get home. Not much to talk about the less the easier so you can just walk away. 

Then you hear it, Joel’s truck driving up the driveway and coming to a halt. How he gets out and slams the door shut behind him. His keys jiggling while he searches for the right one. Unlocking the door and closing it behind him. You don’t turn towards him although you know he must be looking at you in astonishment. He can not miss the suitcases and something about the lack of his words tells you he knows exactly what this means. 

Joel cannot believe what he walked into, he knew something was off but just thought that he was starting to imagine things but here you are sitting like an empty shell of yourself and the packed suitcases can only mean one thing, he tries his hardest not to freak out that won’t make anything better. 

He starts walking towards you, slowly, once he reaches the threshold of the living room he speaks up 

“Moon, Darling what’s goin on?” He immediately continues “What’s with those suitcases, huh?” He can’t even hide the nervous quiver in his voice. 

You turn to finally look at him with empty eyes, get up and walk up to him and then “I have to leave.” And with that you move to walk past him but Joel stops you by reaching for you arm, you immediately pull your arm away hissing “Don’t fuckin touch me Joel.” 

He’s stunned by this harsh rejection, his expression full of hurt. Yet he persists by getting close, grabbing your face with both hands, his warm calloused hands that you love- loved so much. He urges “Talk to me baby, what is going on, why would ya need to leave?” Even with everything he tried to be gentle, his voice panicked yet almost just a whisper. 

He can see in your eyes some sadness creeping in when you mutter “Joel..-“ you take one deep inhale “-…this House no longer feels like home.” He can tell even with how hard you try to appear collected that it pains you to say those words. “Wh…what do ya mean? If- if the house is the problem we can just move.” You cut in “No Joel, no i..I don’t love you anymore. Ok? I can’t stay here any longer.” 

It’s a punch right into his gut there’s no way you are serious. “Baby all ya stuff is here you can’t just leave.” He tries to find something to buy him time. “I don’t care Joel just…just throw it away or sell it or I don’t know fuckin burn it. I won’t need it anyway.” He’s so shocked that you use that to continue your path towards the front door and the waiting suitcases. 

On top of one suitcase lies a tote bag containing your phone, a jacket and your wallet sits. You swing it over your shoulder, you can hear that Joel has started crying, his huffed breaths are all you can hear. 

That’s when a car starts honking outside, the Uber is here, you go to open the front door twisting the knob you can hear him walking up behind you with heavy steps. You open the door anyway with him at your back and you move the suitcases out onto the porch. Joel’s trying his hardest to contain his sobbing to a minimum but it’s hard he loves you so much, he thinks about the ring in his wardrobe hidden behind stuff you’d never go for and he thinks about the talks you two had of having a baby. If only he knew 

His heart is breaking watching you walk away from all of it. You turn to him, one last time, he looks shattered, you've never seen Joel like this, you give him a nod as if to give him the ok to touch you one more time if only to give some kind of closure. He moves closer without hesitation and takes your face in his hands once more and leans his forehead against yours. His frantic breathing collides with your face and then “Wh…why Baby just why?” He sobs A simple question and you decide to give him at least something you reach up to put your hands over his to get him to open his eyes. 

“Joel I’m not myself anymore, i-…i feel so all over the place and I’m so scared.” Tears start clouding your sight. “I need to be away from everything. I need to be alone far away to just maybe find some peace. I need to be gone.” And the tears start falling “No matter where I look I can’t stop seeing him and it’s crushing me.” Now you're full on crying. He’s processing what you’re saying and somewhere in his mind he understands that, still he can’t believe this is it. 

“Ok-….if ya need to go at least promise you’ll give some sorta sign ya alright?” He looks desperate “Please Baby….please just a text something anything.” You only nod and then pull out of his grasp, take the suitcases and shakinly make your way to the Uber. Joel can only watch and hope you’ll stick to your words, hope that you’ll find some kind of way back to yourself. 

The Uber driver gets out as you approach and opens the trunk helping to put the suitcases in there. Then you walk to the right door on the back, open it and hesitate for a moment. Joel holds his breath but you continue to slip into the backseat. Closing the door and off the car goes. Joel doesn’t know for how much longer he stood on the porch long after the car was gone. What was there is no more. 

Npt: @almostfoxglove @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @the-mandawhor1an @rivnedell (honestly I’m tagging pretty randomly, sorry) 💙

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

[eevees-hobbies]

Sext Me Like Ya Mean It - NSFW (Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura)

Author’s Note: This was inspired by this Haruka Sakura Nendoroid, where he’s blushing and looking at his phone. "But, Eevee, how did a cute little figure inspire a fanfic that’s 8-pages long? " I can’t stress enough how down bad I am for this man. Like I would let him put it in my ***, and I’d  *** his *** off of a plate. And I’m not even fucking sorry about it. I might buy this thing and purchase a *** jar, to be fucking honest. Also, if you see any debauched shit with Haruka, tag me cuz I’m Jonesing (I’m dead fucking serious). 

Synopsis: Sakura and technology don’t mix, and now you’re telling him there’s this thing called sexting?! It’s a no from him…unless you can convince him that sexting can be fun for all involved! How will you manage to do that? I dare ya to guess.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura. Sexting in the form of text and video, Togame sees your breast, masturbation for you, public masturbation for Sakura, pet names including kitten, sir, and daddy. Tis smut. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 2.7K

Dividers by Saradika. Banner by me.

“What’s…sexting?” 

Sakura looks defeated as he poses the question. He had just grasped the concept of texting, and now you were throwing more terminology his way?

You shake your head, amused that someone who grew up in the age of smartphones is so pop-culture illiterate. “Sexting is just texting, except we send sexier, more suggestive messages through words, gifs, or pictures. It’s really hot.”

Sakura runs a hand through his dichromatic black and white tresses, “that sounds dumb and not sexy.” 

Even saying the word sexy has a persistent shade of pink stretching over cheeks. 

“Don’t knock it until you give it a try, Sakura! Anyway, have fun with Suo and Nirei tonight.” You give him a peck on the cheek, which results in a grumble and him pulling you in for a kiss on the lips.

You couldn’t stop thinking about your earlier conversation with Sakura. He was always so quick to disregard things he didn’t think he would be good at. 

You can think of all the times you suggested something new: baking, binge-watching Bridgerton, and volunteering at a cat cafe, and how all those things were immediately met with complaints from your boyfriend. 

It wasn’t until you forced his hand by involving him in those activities that he started to warm up to being someone who can bake a mean cake, enjoy a good cuddle session while enjoying the latest season of Bridgerton, and is actually a talented cat-whisperer.

So much like those situations, a little push might be warranted. 

You pick up your phone, enter the passcode, and flick past the home screen displaying a picture of you leaning up to kiss the chin of a blushing, scowling Sakura. 

Across town, Sakura sits at a bar with Nirei and Suo—a bar is usually not their typical meet-up place, but it’s Togame’s birthday, and they needed a venue that could accommodate the size of all the rowdy Bofurin and Shishtoren alums. It also doesn’t help that Kotoha also said, “Fuck. No.” to hosting the party at Cafe Pothos.

A light buzz vibrates in Sakura’s pocket; he leans over, pulls his phone from the back of his jeans, and looks at the screen. He’s pleasantly surprised to see a message from you; he thought you’d be half asleep by now.

God, I miss her. Hope she hasn’t started a new episode of Bridgerton without me.

As he taps on the text bubble icon to open the message, his eyes squint, needing some time to take in the message and then re-read it.

8:20 PM: Hey, baby. I miss you. Thinking of you sooooo much.

His heart thumps aggressively in his chest—a common result of simply thinking about you—as he stares at the text before him, already overthinking what he should send, but you beat him with a follow-up message. 

I hate back-to-back texts. Never have time to respond. 

8:22 PM: I’m lying in bed. Don’t worry…not watching our fave shows without you, kitten. 

He rolls his eyes at the pet name you gave him. You told him that he looks like an angry kitten when he scrunches his nose and bears his teeth. Wiith little complaint from Sakura, the pet name stuck. It’s so stupid and emasculating, but he kind of loves it. 

“You ok, Sakura? You’ve been staring at your phone for like five minutes.”

Sakura looks up at Nirei. “O-oh uh, yeah. Just texting.”

Suo looks over Sakura’s shoulder, trying to peak at his phone screen, “but you aren’t typing anything?”

Sakura tilts the phone away from his friends’ nosey eyes. Your conversations with each other are personal for him, and he’s committed to keeping you all to himself.

“Stop being fucking nosey!” he growls. Sakura decides this is becoming too much of a hassle, but as soon as he’s about to put his phone away, he receives another text from you.

He pauses to consider that he could wait until he is alone to read your messages, but who knows how long that would be? What if you needed something? He would be pissed at himself if he missed an opportunity to do something for you. He decides that the risk of getting caught being called a pet name by his girlfriend isn’t that big of a deal, so he flips his phone over to read your latest commentary. 

8:25 PM: Read receipts are on, so I know you’re looking at your phone. Party must suck.

What the fuck is a read receipt? 

8:26 PM: A read receipt means I can see that you’ve looked at the text message. 

He smiles, loving how you can read his mind even when you’re not physically in front of each other. He’s almost ready to make a pass at typing those exact thoughts out until the following message has him clutching the phone to his chest out of fear that someone could read it over his shoulder. 

8:28 PM: I think I’m…ovulating? I have this craaaazy desire to lick your balls all the way to the tip of your dick, kitten. 

Sakura gradually pulls the phone away from his chest, checking that Nirei and Suo are too engrossed in their conversation to notice the deep-set blush on his cheeks and how he’s peaking at the phone through his fingers. 

His thoughts are frantic; he has so many questions about a situation that he’s never been in before. Why would you send something so filthy through your phone? What is he supposed to do about any of this information when he’s so far away? 

8:30 PM: I’m drooling just thinking about it, baby. Remember when you fucked my face so hard that my hair had my drool in it? I want you to do that again. Fuck my cute little mouth. 

“Ok, this is ridiculous.” A hand reaches past Sakura’s face and takes the phone from his grasp. Sakura immediately stands up, the barstool he was sitting on making a loud scraping sound as it drags against the floor.

But the perpetrator is tall, and Sakura may have beaten his ass before, but they’re friends now, and it’s looked down upon to abuse your friends. 

Togame looks down at Sakura, shaking his head. “You’ve been on your phone every time I look over at ya. What is more important than spending time with me on my birthday?” He punctuates each syllable with a swing of Sakura’s phone.

Suo, ever the instigator, happily chimes in. “He’s texting Y/N!”

“Oh?” Togame’s brows furrow as he looks around the bar, realizing he hasn’t seen you all night. “Hey, yeah, your shadow is missing.”

In what feels like slow-motion, which it probably is because it’s Togame we’re talking about, Sakura watches as Togame’s eyes look down at the screen. He watches as emerald irises quickly scan the text—obviously a faster reader than Sakura—and his eyes widen. 

“Well, damn. That’s hot.”

Another text comes in to Togame’s delight. He lets out a whistle and hands the phone back over to Sakura.

“You sure you know what to do with a girl like that? I could take her off your hands.”

Sakura shoots him a murderous look; his fists clench as he steps toe-to-toe with him. “Wanna run that by me again?”

Togame chuckles, knowing that look in Sakura’s eyes. It was only a few years ago that he and Shishitoren had inspired that same look, which resulted in Sakura and Togame becoming close and saving his best friend’s life.

But somehow, the look Sakura harbors is more intense—protective—now than back then, and it’s all because of you. Togame fully believes that Sakura would be willing to swing on him for you and to protect your honor. Relenting, Togame pats his head, “Kidding. Y'all are cute together.”

Sakura looks down at the phone, curious to see what you’ve sent this time and what Togame glimpsed. What he sees is somehow worse than you calling him kitten or saying you want to gargle his balls down the back of your throat—it’s far worse. 

This time, you sent an image of you in front of a mirror, clad in only your bra and panties, legs folded underneath you as you pulled a bra cup down, exposing your breast.

His eyes dart up to Togame and down to his phone in quick succession, short-circuiting in a matter of seconds. 

Togame chuckles at Sakura’s reaction, “Yeah, she’s real pretty. Lucky guy.”

As Togame shuffles off with the image of your full breast sitting heavily on his mind and wondering what it would feel like for that same breast to sit heavily on his tongue—Sakura stomps off to the bathroom in hopes of regaining his composure.

Suo and Nirei exchange shrugs, assuming Sakura is experiencing one of his usual moods.

Sakura enters the furthest stall from the door and immediately texts you, with your picture still sitting enticingly at the top of his messages.

8:35 PM: Togame just saw that picture. 

Elipses in a bubble appear on the screen, signifying that you’re in the middle of typing. While he waits, he can’t help but look at the picture you sent, his thumb rubbing over your dark, perky nipple as he swallows thickly at the bulge straining against his jeans. 

8:37 PM: What did he say? Did he like it lol?

Sakura shakes his head. You are a ridiculously massive pain in his ass sometimes, but you’re also so…hot. 

8:39 PM: Send me another picture. But with less clothes. 

His heart is once again pounding in his chest, hoping you comply with little to no backtalk for once. He doesn’t even care that people are shuffling in and out of the bathroom as his foot taps against the shiny tile of the floor in impatience.

Another image appears on his phone in what feels like an eternity. This time, your legs are bent in front of you, with two fingers spreading your folds, allowing him to see every bit of your sex in the reflection of the mirror.

Before Sakura knows it, his hand is reaching down into his pants and palming his hard dick while zooming into the picture, inspecting every inch of you that he’s already previously committed to memory. His eyes dart over your clit, that cute little nub that makes you grip his hair as he sucks and licks at it. His eyes move down as he zooms into the image as much as it will allow, looking at your tight hole, which, despite image quality, he can tell is already shining with thick moisture that gives it that glazed, glistening look that makes his mouth water. 

Sakura unbuckles his belt, letting it drag his pants and boxers to his ankles. 

8:43 PM: Baby? Where’d you go? Or should I be saying hi to Togame instead?

Sakura grunts, not realizing that the logistics of sexting and jerking off can be so troublesome—you really have been teaching him a lot. He picks up his phone and shoots you another text.

8:45 PM: Shut up. Keep going. I like what I’m seeing. 

8:45 PM: Yes, sir.

His cock twitches at your use of that honorific. Yeah, being called kitten is lovely when you’re being sweet, but he also likes it when you call him sir or daddy when your naughty side comes out.

Sakura goes back to stroking himself and looking at the previous picture you sent him. The message is pushed up as you send a new image; he doesn’t have to scroll far to see something that makes him leak precum onto the toilet seat below him.

You’ve moved away from the mirror and are lying on the bed; your soft, thick thighs spread far enough to give him a clear view of the two fingers you have shoved in your pretty pussy. He can tell by the white coating near your knuckles that you must have been pumping the absolute hell out of her. 

His mind is racing. Were you thinking about him as you finger fucked yourself? What did you imagine him doing to you? How close were you, and could you hold off until he got home? 

Sakura squeezes his eyes shut, feeling like this entire experience is overloading his senses. He had just learned how to text, and now he’s sexting you? And you’re sending the dirtiest, filthiest messages to him as he jerks off in a public bathroom during his friend’s birthday party?

What the actual fuck..

He licks the palm of his hand and brings it down to stroke himself, imagining that it’s your slick being rubbed into the pores of his dick. He can’t even manage to start slowly because you’ve already done such an excellent job with these pictures—already making his cock hard to the extent that his balls hurt, and if he doesn’t cum soon, he’ll have to punch someone. 

Sakura begins mumbling under his breath as his strokes quicken and increase in intensity. She’s such a good girl for me. Perfectly needy and so into me. She’s so pretty and sweet, and I’m her Daddy.

He’s picturing you in every single position he’s ever had you in and every position he wants to try in the near future. 

He’s imagining sucking on your nipples, biting them as hard as he’d like to without you squealing that it hurts. 

He’s imagining pinning you underneath him while folding your ankles behind your head so he can hit that spot that makes you squirt on his stomach. 

He’s imagining you begging him to pull the condom off and fuck you raw because you “need every last drop of his baby batter” He shivers at the thought of you saying something so slutty and out of character.

The hand holding his phone vibrates, and he enthusiastically pulls his phone back in front of him. This time, you’ve sent a video; he’s never pressed play so fast in his life. 

The video is shakey, but when it beings to play, it focuses in on you fingering your pussy—-his pussy.

“S-SAKURA, FUCK,” blasts through the speakers as you breathily moan his name and your favorite expletive. 

He quickly lowers the volume but not too much so he can still hear as he presses the speaker to his ear, savoring the sound of your moans and the sound of your fingers being stuffed into your hungry cunt, mixing and squelching your juices noisily for him. 

It reminds him of that ASMR shit that you sometimes listen to–if he could have an ASMR recording of just you, your moans, and the sound your pussy makes for him, he’d listen to it every single day.

Sakura feels his hamstrings tighten and a burning sensation in his abdomen; listening to you is bringing him closer to his orgasm, and it feels like it’s going to be intense. 

God, and everything you were saying was just perfect.

“Your pussy misses you, Daddy.”

“I love the way-”  gasp “love the way you fuck me, baby.”

“Haru, I need you, baby. Please come home.”

“I’m so close, but I can’t cum without you, baby boy.”

“I want to squirt on your dick, sir. Please, please, please.”

Sakura hunches over and lets out a deep, guttural moan that can’t be stopped even as he grits his teeth. His balls clench violently, and his nut shoots out onto the toilet seat, toilet bowl, and on the floor. Even when he thinks that his cum is done spilling from him, more bubbles at his tip and dribbles down the length of his cock and along his knuckles. 

He leans against the stall wall and stares at the mess he made—all over himself and everywhere his airborne spunk could reach.

He’s convinced that he’s never come so hard in his life, and it was all because of you. Fuck! He hasn’t messaged you since you called him sir, and that was—he checks the clock on his phone—ten minutes ago!

He types out a message, sneering in disgust as cum smears on his phone screen.

9:05 PM: I just fucking came. Coming home. Don’t clean yourself up.

9:06 PM: CAME?! In your pants….? Or…?

9:08 PM: SAKURA?!

He doesn’t reply because he’s already on his way home to you.

[theillustraitor]

My human Dan design! Plus some ghost Dan to practice drawing him.

I'll explain more in depth below the cut for those who are curious, but the basic ideas for why he looks this way is that his human half is a mix of Danny and Dan(with a small sprinkle of Vlad). It was supposed to eventually match his ghost form more, but things had to be cut short on that path so he got kinda stuck with a middle of the road body(he's roughly late teens).

I'm desperate for him to not look exactly like Danny, but I also had this funny idea that he would somehow end up attending Casper High after he is decently redeemed(so his human body had to be younger than his ghost form). Like just imagine the interactions. Dan would *definitely* get revenge on Dash lol

More detailed explanation:

The clone Dan was stuck in was pretty much constantly destabilizing post AGIT. This was due to the imperfect nature of them, Dan's high power, and the physical difference between the two forms. Vlad and Danny kept it from totally falling apart by using the ecto-dejecto. They had to use it *a lot* though.

Vlad tweaked the clone to be able to be shaped by Dan's ghost(to fix the incongruence of the bodies, and to possibly make it so the body could handle Dan's power better). This is what led to the mixing of Dan and Danny; the body was going from Danny to Dan in terms of appearance. It was taking some time though and they were definitely going to run out of the ecto-dejecto, *especially* since Dani also needs it(I like to think that the ecto-dejecto wasn't a permanent fix, so she has to use it on occasion. There's also no way Danny would give a mid-morph sample at this point cause he and Dani are still pretty distrustful of Vlad.)

Since Jack had originally made the ecto-dejecto Vlad could not figure out how tf to replicate it. Jack had also forgotten how he made it because, I mean, it’s Jack(nevermind that he wouldn’t even have a reason to remember how to make something that’d help ghosts/was a failed version of an experiment)

Vlad then developed a way to convert the ectoplasmic nature of the clones to good ol’ human meat(aka permanent stabilization for Dan). Vlad ended up having to do that to Dan before his human form could completely match his ghost form, hence the mix and being physically younger than his ghost form(a note: the bodies not matching remains a problem, but not a crippling/kill him kind of one. Dan is usually in pain after going ghost, especially if he used his powers a lot, but it fades relatively fast. Additionally, he(unrelated to body stuff) cannot be ghostly for too long because the ghost half will destabilize(not goopy, time/reality)).

I also had this idea that the ghost catcher could be used to permanently fuse Dan's ghost to the human body. I doubt he's fused with the clone body in AGIT, and this would continue to be a problem with my idea; Dan is basically just puppeting/overshadowing the bodies. The catcher has a merge side, sooooo

Finally, some design stuff(and a bit about him going to Casper). As mentioned Dan looks younger, which means he is capable of attending Casper High, and he does so because he never actually finished school(and he would be able to stalk/keep an eye on Danny and the others better. By this point he no longer wants to kill them, and is instead paranoid about the possibility of them dying, so yup, stalking). He'd be put in the same grade as Jazz so they could hang out and what not.

Vlad is also glad to have any time away from Dan because they fight a lot lol

But once at Casper due to his Vlad half he plays football(Vlad fusion aside, it’s a sport where he can be violent w/o problem). Dan got a letterman jacket from that, but he still hates the popular kids so he had Sam dye it black.

The hair streak is also from Vlad, but Dan's hair style is just his ghost form's minus the whole fire thing.

His clothing style is a mix of Vlad and Danny’s(except the jacket). Shirt is from Danny, pants from Vlad, then sneakers + dress shoes = boots.

Finally, it’s a bit subtle but he has heterochromia; one eye is Danny's color, the other Vlad’s.

[teamatsumu]

Can I just say how much I love you??? Okay, that sounded weird, I love your work. It's immaculate, beautiful, and I absolutely love it. Thank you for writing, and I genuinely mean this.

Nowwwwwww.......

Can you write a Time Skip Iwaizumi x Reader where he just, like, loves your ass? Like he can't stop squeezing it and fucking you from behind? If you can't, that's okay, and if you can, I appreciate it.

Have a good day!!

a/n: first off, thank you sooooo much! you’re so sweet xx and not weird at all! your ask made my day. im sorry if this is a bit late :(

worship. (iwaizumi hajime x reader)

word count: 689

warnings: fem!reader, body worship, a lot of detail about asses lmfao, smut

Iwaizumi Hajime is a proud ass man.

He has no qualms admitting that fact. Some guys are into tits, and some guys are into asses. He appreciates a nice bottom, what’s the big deal? It’s not like he is excessively enthusiastic about it- until he meets you.

There’s just something about you. While he connects with you emotionally almost instantly, he is also hyper aware of how physically attractive he finds you. Every curve and dip of your figure is something he hungrily runs his eyes over, but none more so than your perfectly shaped ass.

Iwaizumi Hajime is not a dramatic person, but he swears he could sing hymns about your voluptuous butt. He can’t help himself when his gaze strays straight down to it when you walk into a room. He especially loves it in jeans or yoga pants, where the cloth hugs it so fucking perfectly. And when you two start dating, he is gifted with the sight of them in your silk sleeping shorts. All bets are off then. No power in the universe could stop him from reaching for you, feeling the soft silk and warm flesh give way under his hand as he squeezes it appreciatively. Your surprised yelp is merely a bonus.

When Iwaizumi fucks you for the first time, he has to physically hold back.

He takes you from behind, mind foggy and overcome with arousal, nearly going cross eyed at the sight of your ass bouncing on his cock. He has to slow down or he knows he will come embarrassingly quick, and he has to hold back from smacking your ass black and blue because it looks so delicious, so juicy. God, he needs to bite into it, but fuck, that would definitely freak you out.

Over the months, Iwaizumi realizes there is very little that could freak you out, and you encourage every one of his wild fantasies regarding your ass. In fact, you love it just as much, because when Iwaizumi has you bent over his knee, slapping the flesh over and over, your moans and tear filled eyes keep begging for more. And when he dips his fingers into your slit, it comes back so wet and shiny, it makes his own cock jump and throb.

And so Iwaizumi feels no obligation to hold back when he pounds his cock into your poor pussy, going harder and harder just to watch your ass bounce on his pelvis when it smacks into you. His grip is harsh and his smacks are even harsher, but you tighten around him so deliciously that Iwaizumi can’t help but let out a broken groan of his own. You are wrecking him, ruining him for anyone else, and he swears he can never, ever let you go. That’s the recurring thought in his brain as he empties his balls into you, pulling out to let the last few spurts coat your reddened asscheeks. And fuck, the sight might be enough to make him cum again.

Iwaizumi Hajime is nothing if not a gentleman.

He lays you down on your stomach after he’s done fucking you, shoves a pillow under your hips to tilt your ass up. He runs a warm, wet cloth over the sensitive skin, listening to how your breath hitches at the feeling. He bought a nice, flowery scented lotion as well, which he rubs in his palms to heat up, and then massages into your asscheeks, movements slow but firm, soothing the angry skin. You hum in approval at the action, and his lips twitch up into a smile.

Sometimes he thinks this aftercare is for him more than it is for you, because he is really taking his time to truly worship your ass, letting the smooth glide of the lotion move his hands, squeezing and rubbing at just the right places, every part of it getting attention. He bends forward to brush his lips over it too, tiny kisses that have you giggling under him. And if he playfully bites at it a bit, he knows you don’t mind.

He is the luckiest man in the world.

[your-highnessmarvel]

Repairs

Requested by @talesofreading : Would you write something where you're a close friend of Steve and one time as your Bike needs some repair, he tells you to bring it to Bucky as he's good in fixing it. You're hesitant first as you have a bad crush on him but you decide to do it. So when you get there he's wearing a muscle Shirt, is all dirty and Looks pretty hot with his metal arm. So after you watch him fix your bike you can't resist the way he also Looks at you, so it happens that you end up in his shower together with some passionate smut. Later then he asks you for a proper date? 🤭

AN: omg this was sooooo good to write omg

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, piv, oral (f receiving), fingering, language

*gif not mine

MASTERLIST

"Yep, totally busted," Steve said, looking back up at you from where he knelt next to your smoking bike.

You put a hand to your sweaty forehead. Both of you had been at this for the better part of the afternoon, trying to figure out what was wrong with your motorcycle. Steve was in his white wifebeater, stained black from oil and grim, nails coated in dirt. He'd sweated right through his shirt and even his jeans were full of mud and dirt.

You'd sweated your fair share as well, competing with dirt under your nails and sweat right into your hairline. you didn't look any better, but you didn't care; this was your best friend, after all, and you had no reason to try to impress him.

"You know what?" Steve said, putting his tools back into his box. "You should go see Bucky."

You immediately rolled your eyes.

"He's good with bikes, y/n," he commended, seeing the way you shook your head.

"Is this another ploy to set me up with your grumpy best friend?" you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

Steve got to his feet, dirt-stained hands going right into his pockets. "I mean it, y/n," he said, almost scolded. "I'm not as savvy with bikes as he is. He'd do it if you said I sent you."

"Then come with me!" you said. "Every time I'm alone with him, there's this awkward silence and all he does is grunt as a response."

Steve smiled. "I wish I could come, but I've got a date," he answered.

"Yeah, right," you grumbled. You watched him carefully, your best friend and mentor, and something along the edges of his eyes was curious.

He was shy.

"Who is she?" you asked.

He shrugged. "A girl that I saw at the library." He cut that off pretty short, picking up his tools, his towel, and throwing the keys back at you. "Now, get to Bucky's before it's nightfall."

Bucky lived way out of the city, into the utopian suburbs. You found it funny that this was the life that Bucky chose. After everything you'd heard from him, you'd pictured him in a dingy, half-lit, half-crumbling one-bedroom in Manhattan. Not in the outskirts of the city.

Thank God your car could pull a trailer, or else you'd have had to ask Bucky to meet you at your place, and that just wasn't happening. The thousand-year-old soviet asset was known to be a judger of literally everything.

You pulled into Bucky's parking space, the garage to his tiny little house open, like a black mouth ready to swallow you in. By this time, it was nearing four in the afternoon, and the sun was searing, hot and humid, and with just a foot out of your car, you were already sweating.

You closed the door loudly, maybe trying to announce your presence so you didn't have to knock on the door.

"Hey." It was Bucky, coming out of the shadows of his garage. It took you a second to get the hinges in your jaw to work because, damn.

You'd always thought of Bucky as a man who passed as good looking. Well, when you met him, he was still in heavy therapy and on government surveillance. He still had long, matted brown hair and a face dragged down by sorrow.

But now. Now he'd taken to cleanly shave his hair, leaving a few inches of thick, curling locks on top of his hair, not totally covering his ears. And even though he was slimmer than the last time you'd seen him - he hadn't been working out as much - he still looked... better. Real better.

"Hey," you said, awkwardly waving at him. He was carrying a white rag, cleaning his hands from oil or dirt or whatever else he'd been doing. "Steve said I could come to you if I had problems with my bike?"

He pursed his lips. He came closer, out of the shadows and into the mid-afternoon sun, and you got a good glimpse at him. Golden skin, scars matting his hand, his knuckles. He was wearing a muscle shirt, the kind that was maybe a bit too small for him, molding to his muscles, straining across his metal bicep.

You'd never really seen the arm before. Only flickers of his hands or fingers, but never the entire machine.

You licked your lips, something squeezing in your lower belly.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

you shrugged. "Dunno."

He glazed his eyes, rolled them. "Alright, take it down and bring it into the garage."

With a tiny sigh of resentment - he wasn't helping you - you unlatched the ties of your bike and rolled it into the garage. it was darker, a little cooler, inside. As you settled your bike in the dead center of the room, Bucky brought two stools, effortlessly carrying them around.

He sat on his and motioned with a wrench for you to sit beside him. Even though you'd sweated all day in your black t-shirt, and God knows whatever he'd down today, there was something terrific about sitting this close to Bucky.

His tanned fingers worked to open up the bike, his metal hand working the wrench.

"Ah," he said, poking around the engine. "I see what's wrong."

"Is it fixable?" you asked.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered.

You swallowed the heat climbing up your throat, watching him get to work in silence. Unlike Steve, Bucky didn't tell you what he was doing or why; he just did it.

It took longer than expected. And the more he worked, straining against your bike, the sweatier he got, the more figetting you did.

His flesh arm was glistening with a thin layer of sweat. His hand was veined, strained against the metal piece he was holding aside. His fingers were dirty with grime and dust. Even that God damned muscle shirt was stained with dirt and sweat and grime.

By the time he was done, a light sheet of rain was coating the ground outside. It was pitter-pattering against the cement, a slow drone of rain against the tin roof. Almost comforting.

"You can't take your bike out in the rain," he said, putting everything back in its place, stowing his tools and his rags.

You gulped. "Yeah, I'm sure the rain will let off soon." You dragged your sweaty palms onto your jeans nervously. It caught Bucky's eye.

He stood, dragging your eyes up to his figure. He was so tall, so wide at the shoulders, sweating in his shirt, hair a mess.

"I've got beer inside," he said, throwing the rag in the corner of the garage, placing his tools on his self-made wooden desk. Then he turned to you and gestured to the front door. "Come on."

You followed him out into the rain, walking quickly up the steps and into his home, which smelled of him, something woodsy, and air freshener.

You were humid, rain dotting your skin as you took off your sneakers and followed him into the kitchen. The air conditioning was making you cold.

his home was cozy but so boyish. No decorations but a huge TV. A grey couch with not pillows or blankets. Empty liquor bottles as props over the refrigerator, which droned on and on. There was only one magnet on his fridge, and it read "I love NY!" Which was ironic because Bucky didn't love anything.

"Here," he said, offering you an ice cold beer, but it did nothing to warm you up. You leaned back against his kitchen counter, sipping on your beer, watching him poke around the inside of his fridge. The yellow light cast on his face like a glow, and he hummed when he found what he wanted.

By the time he took out the rolled up cheese, he saw you shivering by the sink.

"I'm sorry," you said, settling the beer down. "I'm just a bit cold from the rain."

He hummed, slamming the cheese rolls on the kitchen table.

"We ought to warm you up," he said, diving back into the fridge to get a beer, which he opened and took a five good gulps before he wiped his wet mouth.

"Yeah," you chuckled, pressing your hands against your arms, searching for heat.

The super soldier, immune to any heat or cold or anything really, stood before you with his sticky muscle shirt molding to every nook in his muscles. His arms, his chest, down to his abs. Water had made it almost see-through, and you felt like a perv watching as he breathed, watching his muscles contract beneath the fabric.

"You should take a shower, y/n," he said, tone low.

You startled, eyes dragging from his abs to his face in a split second. Did you smell? Was that why he'd said that?

"You're shivering, poor thing," he said, clucking his tongue, taking another wild swing of his beer. And you noticed that he was eyeing you took, at your jeans sticking to your thighs, your hips. At your wet shirt glueing to the curve of your waist and breasts.

He set his beer down and offered his hand. "Come."

On some instinct you'd never registered before, you took his hand, flesh fingers warm and calloused.

He led you into a small bathroom with no windows. where various male paraphernalia was strewn across the sink. He pulled the shower curtian back and started the shower and you just stood there like a fish out of water; mouth slightly agape, your hand still loosely holding on to his.

"Bucky?"

He hummed.

"I don't get it," you said.

He returned his gaze to yours, satisfied with the steam rising from the shower. He gave you a small, tight smile. "Get undressed," he said, gesturing his chin at you, dropping your hand.

You stood there like a statue, examining him; from the hard jawline, the seriousness in his eyes, the way his skin pulled back when he moved his mouth.

Then, harder this time, "Get undressed or freeze, sweetheart."

The nickname, the pet name, sent a wave of fresh heat right into your face.

He watched, then slowly, he smiled. Like a rpedator trying to win its prey without having to sink teeth into flesh.

He took a tiny step towards you, watching your breath hitch, and he slid metal fingers under your shirt, pulling it up until it came right off your head. Your hair flopped back down over your shoulders, covering your bra.

He bit his lip. You watched, entranced as he moved to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. He was agile because he took your panties off with it.

He came back to his full towering height, and he brushed your hair behidn your shoulders, exposing your chest, your full flesh to him.

He snaked an arm around your waist, and you gulped, the feel of his hands, burning metal fingers, was like a lightning bolt had erupted under your skin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, close to your ear, his breath in your hair. "So fucking gorgeous." He slid his metal hand up and then your bra was sliding off your arms.

"Let me touch you, y/n," he whispered in your ear. You gulped, nodded. "Use your words, sweetheart," and his voice was rugged, wretched, as both his hands slid careful fingertips up on your ribcage.

"Yes, Bucky," you whispered.

He huffed against you. And then his metal hand engulfed your breast, knead it the way he wanted, and his lips found your neck. You whimpered, taken by surprise by his sudden act of devotion. His tender fingers pulling your nipple, drumming against your ribs, lips leaving a wet trail of kisses up your jugular.

When he kissed you, his mouth was warm and wet, and he molded his lips to yours carefully, like he didn't want to scare you off.

You kissed him back just as carefully, confused and distraught, unaware that for years, Bucky had been yearning for this opportunity. For this moment where he finally had you alone.

Quickly, the kiss became rougher. Your hands pulled at the soft, thick strands of his hair and he pulled you aainst his with his metal arm around your waist. He nipped at you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, groaning as his flesh finger felt you.

He skimmed along your navel, until he could cup you in his palm. You squeaked, taken by surprise. "Easy there, princess," he whispered against your mouth. "Just wanna make you feel good."

He dove right back for a kiss, delving his tongue behidn your teeth while his fingers started working circles around your clit.

You had realized how riled up he'd gotten you, like a hardwire ready to snap.

You bent like a bow in his arms, moaning against his mouth as his fingers continued to circle your clit in slow, languid circles. And when he prodded farther, where you most ached for him, he moaned against your mouth when he felt just how soaked you were.

"Fuck, y/n," he groaned, pulling his mouth from yours.

You almost whimpered at the lost of contact, but he picked you up so effortlessly, so quickly, that you hadn't registered that you were now sitting on the edge of the sink until you couldn't see him anymore. All you could see was the steam rising from the shower, clogging the bathroom, settling on your skin in dotted water drops.

And Bucky, on his knees, pulling your knees apart. His eyes, hooded and so blue, looked up at you as he kissed the inside of your thigh.

"One leg on my shoulder, baby," he ordered, his metal hand under your thigh, helped you move until you were almost straddling his face. "That's it, good girl," he groaned, biting into the plush of your thighs.

The angle sent you backward, back against the cold mirror, and one hand hanging onto the edge. Ready to plummet or fly, you couldn't tell.

His mouth teetered around your pussy, kissing along your thighs, until he settled over your clit and gave you one long swipe of his tongue.

Your head fell backwards, eyes closing, hips searching for his mouth.

"You taste so sweet," he cooed, pressing another long lick from your hole to your clit.

A strangled moan escaped your clenched teeth when he sucked on your clit, one of your hands digging into his hair and pulling him where you wanted him.

The room was filled with the filthy sound of Bucky getting his fill, lapping you up and sucking in your clit like a man starved. Both hands leaving ink-blue marks in your hips.

He worshipped your clit, flicking and sucking to a rhythm that had your thighs shaking against his face, with you pulling his hair by the roots. He sucked and fucked your hole with his tongue until a knot formed right under your belly button and exploded in white hot lightning.

As your orgasm washed through you in waves, rocking against his face, a moan hitched in your throat.

Bucky held your thighs open, refusing to let them close, and lapped up his fill.

When you were but a trembling, babbling mess, Bucky it into your thigh, kissing up your knee until he was standing between your legs. His eyes were hooded, pupils blown, mouth red and glittering, swollen from the kisses he'd lain on your clit.

"Come 'ere," he groaned, grabbing you by the back of the neck, bringing you upright on the counter. He brought his mouth to yours in a feverish, harsh kiss that left you dizzy and scrambling to keep up with him.

You pushed him away, grappling at his shirt, pulling it over his head. You gorged on the sight, on the tanned skin exposed, the scar where his metal shoulder meshed with his flesh. You touched the tips of your fingers to his metal shoulder, skimming down to his hand.

He took your mouth again, pressing you back into the mirror, hands in your hair, on your breast, skimming down back to your dripping hole.

He entered one flesh finger, pressing against your walls, so slippery and warm. He hummed, feeling your breasts against his chest as you bowed your back at the sensation.

You patted him through his pants, feeling him warm and hard against your touch. He hissed at the sensation, nipping at your mouth.

He continued to move his digit in and out of you, pressing his palm to your clit. You continued palming him, pressing against the impressive length of him until he groaned and took himself out of his pants, dropping them at his ankles and kicking them away.

Your mouth opened in a small 'o' at the sight of him, hard and thick, tip dripping precum.

"Too much for you sweetheart?" he asked, pressing his forehead to yours, thumbs on each side of your jaw.

You shook your head, gulped, saw the faint smile that crossed his face. He watched you with keen eyes as he lined himself with your soaked heat.

He pressed his thumb against your mouth, kissing you, as he slowly inched in. He watched you take it, watched as your mouth opened, brows curving upward.

"Don't give up on me baby," he whispered, nipping at your mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw.

He slid himself to the hilt, grabbing your hip in a bruising grip, metal hand pressed against the foggy mirror over your head.

You gasped, latching onto his shoulders for dear life as he pulled back and thrust back into you, feeling you clench and flitter around him.

You whimpered, body pressing up against the mirror with one harsh thrust from his hips.

"That feel good, huh?" he asked, boring his eyes into yours, keeping a slow, languid pace with his hips. "Tell me, y/n, that feel good when I fuck you?"

You nodded, feeling him slick, sliding into you with ease, stretching your walls and hitting that spot deep in you that made you writhe.

"Yes, Bucky," you answered, breathlessly, scratching at his flesh shoulder.

He groaned, taking your mouth with his, speeding up his thrusts, making your head catch on the mirror. You moaned against his mouth, giving up full control of your body to his, at the mercy of every thrust, every change in rhythm.

"Taking me so well," he grunted, hiding his face in your shoulder, bruising grip on your hip helping him thrust himself deeper into you. Then he pulled himself up, face hovering over yours, searching your gaze wildly. "You like it when I fucked this tight little hole?" he asked, and again, his tone was scratching the surface of something wilder.

You nodded, feeling a knot form in your belly, your thighs closing around his hips. His mouth stretched into a smile, pounding deeper and faster into you. "Yeah, you do," he said, almost mockingly, pressing a sweaty forehead to yours. "I see the way you always look at me," he grunted, kissing your mouth, humming at the moan that left your lips.

"Bucky, please," you whispered, eyes falling shut, your orgasm on the brink of breaking.

"I feel you, y/n, come on," he grunted, keeping a harsh, pounding pace until your legs shook and your orgasm broke through you in waves. "Fuck, that's so tight," he breathed, chasing his own end, pounding into your tightening hole.

A stuttered moan left your lips as you clung to Bucky, rocking into your orgasm with every thrust, feeling the wave of pleasure reach your toes. His metal hand came slamming onto the mirror beside your ear, cracking into the glass as he pounded into you, breathless and wordless until he gave you a few sloppy thrusts and he was spending himself in you.

He stayed there a few moments, breathing with you, kissing you softly until he pulled out of you. You stuttered, a breath hitched in your throat, as you felt him leaking out of you.

He met your gaze, leaning back to examine his work, and then he slowly helped you to your feet. You giggled at your loss of coordination, hearing Bucky chuckle too as he helped you into the shower.

You let the warm spray wash his seed from the inside of your thighs, soak into your hair.

"Warm enough?" he asked, chin on your shoulder.

You chuckled. "I've been warm enough for a little while."

He hummed, placing both hands along your waist. He helped you wash up, lathering your skin and hair, helping you wash out the suds.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pressing tender kisses to your shoulder. "You're quiet."

"Yes," you answered, looking over your shoulder at him. "Are you?"

He smiled, eyes low. He raised his brows. "I am now," he whispered.

When you were done with the shower and you were both drying up, Bucky tied his towel around his waist and watched you put your hair up in a towel.

"What?" you asked.

He snorted. "It isn't like me to do...this," he said, leaning against the sink. His chest was wet, glistening spots lingering down to his abs. It was enough to make you want to do this again.

You smiled but didn't answer, focused on getting your towel around your torso.

"Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?" he asked, and you looked up, met his eyes across the steamy bathroom, and smiled.

"Yeah, of course."

[mikimakiboo]

Two for the price of one

Small drabble for @ancha-aus 's new au ! Double Noot ! Or as I like to call it, Noot² ! :D

( part 1 by ancha, read it before reading this one maybe- )

Very short but I just wanted to make a little something because I find the concept particularly funny :')

I didn't go too deep into the lore since the story didn't really start yet, I just did the "encounter" with the gang so that's why it is INCREDIBLY short like fr and also because I underestimated how tired I am

Quick summary: Corrupt gets separated from Nightmare (Passive Nightmare, who is still six years old), everyone is confused

Tw: slight mention of miscarriage and pregnancy denial (ik it's weird lmao but dw there is context)

How did this happen ? How did they end up here ? Like this ? How did they end up with a child on their couch when they went out to fight the Star Sanses ?

None of them was speaking, just looking at the little skeleton with lavender eyelights on their couch, the little skeleton looking terrified. They couldn't blame him, who wouldn't be after all ? He appeared.. no, came out of Corrupt, in the middle of a battle field, almost got shot with an arrow, was brought into a new place and was now surrounded by five skeletons: one with four massive tentacles, one with empty sockets and black tar leaking from them, one with a big glowing red eye and a hole in his skull, one you couldn't see his face apart from two piercing mismatched eyelights, and one with a knife almost as big as the child. He had every right to be terrified.

Killer was the one to break the silence first.

- Sooooo... Poptart ?

Corrupt looked up after a few seconds, realizing that Killer was talking to him when he saw everyone's gaze locking on him. His gang, or mates as they called each other, didn't like the name Corrupt, it had a bad connotation, one that meant that he was inherently bad, that there wasn't any good in him, which, to them, was completely false, so as they started dating they also started giving him nicknames, two that came back very often were Poptart and Sweetpie. Corrupt struggled to get used to it, being more accustomed to being insulted, just like the villagers always did. But did they insult him ? They insulted Nightmare, they insulted that little child sitting in front of him, but he wasn't Nightmare, so was he really insulted ? It didn't matter, Dream insulted him too after all, and he wasn't aiming these insults at Nightmare, but at him.

He looked at Killer, waiting for him to say whatever he had in mind.

- Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant ? Or at least tell Horror or Dust cause judging by the kid's eyelights it was one of them who got you pregnant, cause blue and red makes purple so...

Saying that Corrupt was taken aback would have been an understatement, and it didn't help that they were all staring at him, waiting for him to confirm what Killer said. The child, despite still being tensed, was visibly confused as well, but not for the same reason, because he was pretty sure he wasn't anybody's kid, and especially their kid. He would have remembered it.

- I wasn't pregnant.

Corrupt answered after a moment, making Killer frown, doubting the statement.

- Isn't that called a pregnancy denial ? I mean we didn't see you gain weight either so...

Cross asked, a little unsure of how to tackle the subject, he never had to deal with a pregnant monster before, and maybe denials were a sensitive subject, he didn't want to upset his mate by being too straight forward.

Corrupt looked at them, disconcerted.

- I wasn't pregnant, I have never been pregnant, Nightmare was.. I thought.. he was supposed to be dead !

He argued, but he only gained a compassionate look from his mates. Killer put a hand on his shoulder, looking way more serious than he was accustomed to, and he heard Cross mumble Nightmare's name.

- It's okay Poptart, you could have told us you thought you had a miscarriage, we would have supported you, you know..

Horror nodded from behind Killer, and Corrupt knew Dust thought the same even without looking at him.

- For God's sake Killer, I was not pregnant !

He claimed again, wanting to end this nonsense before it got uncontrollable. Killer was about to respond when they heard a sob. They all turned in sync, and saw the child, Nightmare, with tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't like the yelling, it brought back too many bad memories, memories he would have preferred to forget. Corrupt shrugged to get Killer's hand off of his shoulder and went to the child, kneeling to be on the same level as him, and carefully wiped his tears with his thumb. Nightmare flinched, backing against the couch's case, but he didn't chase Corrupt's hand away.

- Hey I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled.. we're not gonna hurt you, you're safe here, you don't have to be scared..

Corrupt apologized, speaking with a soft tone to try and sooth the little one.

Nightmare looked at the goopy skeleton in front of him, still sniffling, but, somehow, he had a vague sense of déjà vu... something in him told him he had already heard those words, already felt this magic... the four white skeletons were new, that he was sure, but this black one, he was familiar...

- If you weren't pregnant... then where does he come from ?

Dust asked, sitting on the other couch, his legs still being sore from the fight. Horror had joined him, Killer and Cross were still standing.

Corrupt sighed, standing up too but staying next to the child who was now only staring at him, trying to remember where he saw him.

- That's Nightmare, the.. the true guardian of negativity, the one who allowed me to come to life by eating the apples. He started to explain as simply as he could. I.. thought he had died in the process, but turns out he was still there, just.. dormant, and invisible..

- But why show up now ?

Killer asked.

- I.. honestly, I don't know, but he's here now, and it's better he stays here.

Corrupt answered. Nightmare frowned, looking at the adult. He gave him life by eating the apples ? He did remember eating the apples from his tree, he remembered the villagers and the pitchforks, he remembered someone told him to let go when he took his first bite, they told him they would protect him, but he had to give up his mind and body. At that time, Nightmare didn't think much, he was already so scared, he would have done anything for someone to fight for him, to protect him, and when he heard this voice, he knew it was his only way out, and he gave up everything, his vision fading to black as he felt everything become numb. This skeleton had the same voice, and he was emanating negativity, a pure one, the same that emanated from his apples. Was he the voice ? He seemed so big... not as big as the other skeletons, but much bigger than him, especially with those tentacles coming from his back. Nightmare remembered his back hurting a lot more than the rest of his body, was it because of the tentacles ? They seemed to be heavy... he slowly reached out to the one that was the closest to him, putting his hand on the appendage, it was surprisingly soft and a little cold too... he felt the negativity swarm up around his hand, resonating with his own...

Corrupt looked down when he felt the child touch his tentacle. He didn't move it, letting him discover it as he pleased.

- So.. we're just gonna take care of a kid now ? Not that I want to abandon him, I sure don't, but.. are we qualified to do that ?

Cross hesitantly asked, tugging on his jacket. This castle was full of dangerous things for a child, and they weren't the most welcoming monsters either, even if he knew no one would hurt Nightmare, maybe he would be better with someone more qualified, like a Toriel or even an Asgore, monsters who had the parental instinct in their codes...

- We'll have to be..

Horror quietly said, looking at the little child on the couch, he had the same amazement in his eyes when looking at the tentacle that his brother always had before the famine took hold of everything...

Killer and Dust shared a look, not sure that they could raise a child. They raised their brother, but it ended up... pretty badly, they weren't sure they could raise someone properly after that. Cross was different, sure he killed his brother too, but he lived through so many different timelines, so many in which he was a good brother, in which he actually was caring until the end, he could manage to raise a child if he wanted to, if he trusted himself enough to do so, but them ? They would probably need to keep their distance, at least for a moment, at least until the kid started to learn how to fight back.

- I trust you all to look out for him, every one of you.

Corrupt assured, looking at his two mates from whom he had felt a peak of negativity. He knew what they were thinking about, but he also knew they wouldn't be a threat for the child, the simple fact that they felt apprehension from the thought of doing so alone was enough proof for him.

- For now he needs a bath, he said, Nightmare's bones and clothes being stained from the goop, I'll take care of it. Killer, you can go with Cross in Littletale and gather some clothes for him. Be careful not to be seen, we don't want the stars to know about that.

Killer nodded after a brief look to the child, and him and Cross disappeared in a portal, going to complete their mission.

- What about us ?

Dust asked.

- Horror can go cook dinner, with an extra dish, and you go to the infirmary and heal yourself, don't think I didn't notice you couldn't move your arm.

Dust didn't respond, only looking down in shame, he thought he hid it well...

Corrupt sighed, turning his attention to the little skeleton once they were alone. Nightmare had looked up when Cross opened the portal for him and Killer to leave, clenching on the tentacle, and was now staring at Corrupt, alert.

- Who... who are they... ?

The child hesitantly asked in a whisper, his voice quiet as he hadn't used it in five hundred years. He already knew who Corrupt was, he said it, but who were the others ? Were they the surviving villagers ? Would they try to finish the job ? What did they want from him ? Why bring him back with them ? Surely it couldn't be good, it has never been good when someone wanted him to stay somewhere...

- They are my... my partners, they have been working with me for many years, they won't harm you, I trust them. You can trust them, too, and if anything, I'll be here to protect you.

He tried to explain as simply as he could. He felt Nightmare relax a little, even if he could still feel his fear deep inside his soul, the child seemed to believe him, maybe because his feelings were clear and not tainted with mischief or bad intentions, or because Nightmare remembered who he was and knew he could at least rely on him a little.

Corrupt knew Nightmare wouldn't trust them straight from the beginning, but if he at least believed they wouldn't hurt him, then it was a good start, because now that he was here, Corrupt would never let him go out. He needed to protect him, he swore to him that he would protect him from the very moment he came to life, it was his whole purpose.

He wouldn't fail.

[bug-bites]

thinking abt simon "ghost" "acts of service" riley

like in my head he isn't too fond of physical touch. he wont burst into tears and start crying and shaking if you hug him but its very much reserved for the very few people who are close to him. its not that he's scared of it or it makes him super uncomfortable, its just he has other ways of showing people he loves them!

he's the type of guy who when you're getting to know him, listens and remembers every detail you tell him, and makes mental notes of your dislikes and likes w/o you having to tell him.

he takes cold showers every day and when you ask him he just tells you "its better, wakes me up in the mornings" but its really because he knows you like taking hot showers from all the times he's walked into the washroom once you're done and noticed the mirror all fogged up from the steam. he just wants to make sure you dont run out of hot water

in a passing conversation you mention feeling a bit sick, maybe its the change in weather or your allergies acting up but you just really are hoping it isnt a cold. simon doesnt say much but later you find a small ziploc baggie of peeled orange slices with a sticky note with your name on on it

when you go out together and you're a little underdressed for the weather he notices the goosebumps on your arms and how you constantly are rubbing them with your hands, trying to subtly warm yourself from the friction. you dont do a good job however because he glances at you and lets out a small sigh

"what did i say before heading out" "bring a jumper..." you mumble in response "and what did you do?" he crosses his arms over his chest but he isn't mad or annoyed, not in the slightest "not bring a jumper"

it feels like you're on the verge of being lectured but simon just rolls his eyes and gestures you to follow him. you're lead to his car and he opens the trunk, tossing you a black zip up sweater. he's scolding you somewhat, saying that "this is why you're getting sick" and other nonsense and you're lucky he "forgot" to take that sweater out of the trunk or boot because hes bri'ish. you happily take it and put it on because you're not about to turn down a sweater when you're freezing also its from simon and it just looks so comfy! it's definitely big on you because lets face it, simon is built like an industrial freezer, but the material is soft and cozy, with the added bonus of smelling like him. you thank him for the sweater and carry on with your day, not thinking much of it. truth is, however, he always has that extra sweater in his car for you. makes sure its there before you two go anywhere, neatly folded and tucked into the back. he would never admit it though he's such a pussy

when asked about his little favours he does for you he constantly pulls excuses from his ass, saying its just a coincidence that he had those things or literally anything to hide that he goes out of his way to do it for you. he cares about you, he actually cares a lot about you but he's just a tiny bit embarrassed to admit it. he loves you so much but he doesn't want you to think he's like kicking his legs and giggling over the thought of you even though he probably has at some point but you dont need to know that

he thinks he's sooooo subtle and sneaky about it but when you fall asleep and you wake up with a sweater over top of you like a blanket that a) you are 100% sure doesn't belong to you and b) has "S. Riley" written in sharpie on the tag (with a tiny skull doodle next to it), theres no way in hell you can be oblivious to how much he cares about you.

[starlightsuffered]

Possessive

Info - mommy kink, possessive sub, jealousy, knife kink, cutting body (not as SH), branding, dry humping, breast suckling, blood licking, cumming in pants, pain kink, a little baby talk

“You want this don’t you baby boy?” I asked him. He looked so nervous. His dark hair was damp with sweat. His long pale fingers were shaking as they held the switch blade.

This was a heady experience. I was under him. He held a sharpened dagger, and I had every bit of the power.

I caressed his sharp angles. He turned his head so he kissed my palm. He nuzzled into it like a cat. He was such a sweet boy, but I also liked the dark possessive side he had. I knew I could bring it out with a little bit of coaxing.

“Don’t you remember how those boys were looking at me at your Quidditch match?” I cooed. His face instantly twisted. He looked angry.

I smirked at him. He was holding his weapon more steadily now. He bit his bottom lip.

“You’re not theirs,” he said in a low voice.

“No I'm not,” I said in a coo. “But they were looking at me quite a lot.”

“Mmmm,” he nearly growled. His cock twitched though both of us were clothed other than my shirt that laid on the dormitory floor.

“You loved that outfit, remember Reggie?” I asked him. I ran my hand down his tanned arm. Some of him was more golden now that it was qudditch season. He remained wiry but there was something muscle here and there.

“I do,” he shuddered, the bulge in his pants growing ever so slightly. He was so damn easy.

“The colours of your house. Those small, itty bitty green and silver triangles covering mommy’s hard nipples. Those tiny little black shorts that showed off my bum. The one you love to bury your face in and feast.”

“Ohhhh mommy,” he moaned. He let himself close his eyes and hump a little between my legs. All the while I rubbed his thighs.

“But all those boys were looking at allll my mommy parts,” I reminded him. His hips stopped jerking and his eyes flew open.

“No! Tu es ma maman, seulement la mienne!” He nearly shouted. He always turned to French in frustration.

“Then make it Offcial angel boy,” I hummed. “Mark mommy as yours.”

“You sure?” He panted. His eyes were glowing and wild.

“I look good in red dont I?” I chuckled.

“Sooooo good mommy,” he melted. “You look beautiful in everything though mon amour.”

“Thank you baby, now do what you want please. Claim your mommy. Mark me as yours and only yours. I know you want mommy forever. If you brand me, I’ll never forget who my subby baby is,” I explained.

“Right,” he nodded with determination.

He took the knife and placed it to an area just under my breasts. He began to carve the words I’d instructed him to write. “Mommy of R.A.B”

It stung a little but the sensation was mostly pleasurable. I felt my baby boy’s cock absolutely straining and throbbing as he marked me. He knew the scar would make everyone at his Quidditch match wide eyed with disbelief. He would thrill at the idea of me being so claimed, and so his.

“It’s bleeding,” he mumbled anxiously.

“Lick up your mess then,” I told him, grabbing the hair on the back of his head and guiding him. He gasped with lust at the taste of me.

“This is so…. So intimate mommy. I’m so leaky,” he admitted.

“I know baby, you’re doing so well. You can suckle and lick my scar whenever you want. I know you love having a mommy all for you,” I soothed his worried thoughts of me leaving him one day.

I palmed him over his pants as he finished his job. I looked down and saw the bloody letter that were upside down to me. Regulus dipped to lap up blood again.

He looked sexy with his lips swollen from biting and dark red staining them. His hair fell in front of his eyes and he looked pitiful. However, he was also excited because he knew what came next. If he was possessive I was doubly so, and I wasn’t going to let him get away without his own brand.

He laid against me. He took a deep inhale of my skin. Finally, he took off my bra, releasing my breasts. A muffled noise of need escaped him. His lips wrapped around my hard nipple. He relaxed into me and began to suck.

I would be writing “mommy’s property” on his back between his collar bones. I hoped I wouldn’t hurt too much. I wanted to mark him, but I didn’t want it to be hurtful and not arousing. He was still rock hard against me so I assumed he was good.

He was still eagerly suckling and melting fully into me. He was always his happiest on my breast. I set the sharp tip against his soft skin.

“This is it baby boy. I’ll really own you now, I have a permanent mark on your skin. You’re all mine forever. I’m going to brand you, and everyone will know you’re a sweet little mommy’s boy.”

“Ohhhhh, mommy,” he said in a muffled voice.

I began to carve into his skin. I made the first line of the capital M and something unexpected but amazing happened. Regulus groaned in the most high pitched whine I’d ever heard. He humped forward, and I felt warmth begin to spread on his crotch. He bucked and whimpered throughout the unexpected orgasm.

“Awwww, baby, did you make cummies without meaning to?” I asked, petting his hair.

“Sorry mommy,” he sniffed. “I liked the pain more than I thought.”

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet t @vvsdreaming

[noellefan101]

Stealing Their Hoodie-Genshin

Characters: Tighnari, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Cyno, Xiao, Albedo x gn! reader

Summary: You steal his hoodie, what do you think abt it + what do they think abt it

Warnings: established relationship, modern au(i guess), you´re shorter than him, studying(albedo)

Note: i really hope you like this. it was honestly a pain to write three fics in a row, but i´m still alive i guess(if i don´t post in the next week im dead). also, i´m changing my theme a little, luv you.

Tighnari

you really wanted to try out his hoodie, he always wears it and it looked really comfy. you just didn´t know if he would get mad if you tried it on. it was his favorite hoodie and you didn´t want to make him mad if he didn´t like you wearing it/I'd say he´s really scary when he´s mad, like a mad mom kinda scary/. anyway, when you put it on you really didn´t want to take it off, it was just soooo comfy, and warm, and soft, and big, and... you get it. you were so lost in the comfiness and the smell of his perfume, that you didn´t realize someone just came home. yeah, unfortunately you were caught. at least he wasn´t mad, well... maybe a little, but that was mainly because you could´ve just asked instead.

one of the last things he wants you to be is a thief, just ask next time.

Wanderer/Scaramouche

he looked so good in it, you wanted to try it too. but the only problem was, that your boyfriend had a lot of temper. and you didn´t know if he would react badly/or just kill you on the spot/so you thought about asking, but got scared of the thought immediately. so the day of the week he wasn´t home you went for it, and you found it and tried it on. just as you thought, it looked really pretty on you. and it was really comfy too. the only thing that was wrong, he was coming home early as a surprise, and of course he didn´t tell you(ofc you didn´t its a f*''*ing surprise, why tf did i write that). but i guess he surprised you more than he thought, because he also surprised himself. he may have tried to ignore it, but you could clearly tell he noticed by his light red cheeks. but it was only because you looked really good in it.

he´ll be surprising you a lot more, to reveal all your secrets.

Cyno

his cloak from the manga as a hoodie omg give. me. one... 'cough cough' anyway, you really liked this one hoodie he had, why it was reeeaally big and looked oh-so-comfy. you really wanted to try it out, but you didn´t know how he would react if you asked. and you were kinda scared of it. sure he was not as scary around you, but you hadn´t done anything like this before, so how would you know how he would be if you did. sooooo you decided to "borrow" one of his hoodies while he was out. and, just as you thought, it was really comfortable and really big on you too, and as a bonus, it smelled like him. you eventually fell asleep in it, and didn´t wake up when Cyno came home either. he just looked at you confused as to why you were wearing his hoodie, but ignored it and brought you to bed. when you woke up he just started telling bad hoodie jokes, while you looked like a fresh tomato, great.

he would love you even more if you´d laugh at his jokes.

Xiao

you first liked the big hoodie he wears in the winter, it looked comfy and was big on him, therefore bigger on you. you wanted to try it on, but didn´t know how to ask. you did think about asking but was afraid of him reacting badly. so one day, when he wasn´t home, you just took a look into his closet and chose something you would want to wear. you chose this big blue and black, though mostly blue, hoodie since he wears it a lot. and when you put it on you, you fell in love, it was way to big on you, and it smelled exactly like him. but you didn´t really want to take it off just yet, and kept it on for the rest of the day. and then... xiao came home, he didn´t see his hoodie on you immediately, but could sense that something was different. but when he finally noticed, he just blushed a little. kidding he looked like a fresh tomato/very pretty one/and didn´t want to talk to you for a little, but it was fine in the end. and he eventually got over it.

no he´s not cute when blushing, or at least he doesn´t want to admit it.

Albedo

you see, he had this one hoodie he wore all the time/it´s mostly while he´s studying, but he does that a lot/and there was just something about it that you really liked. maybe it was how big it looked on him/meaning bigger on you/or maybe it was only the fact that it's his. soooo... when he was out for a group project, where he couldn´t wear his studying hoodie(yes im gonna call it that)because that wouldn´t be appropriate. so, you just took a little look in his closet, finding his hoodie and put it on. and as you thought it was way to big on you, but it was really comfy. and it also smelled like him, the perfume he uses, mixed with his shampoo. the only problem was just that albedo was coming home early/because he´s a genius, so they finished quickly/and you didn´t know. so when he got home you both got a surprise, you didn´t know he would be coming home early, and he saw you in his hoodie. he wasn´t mad or anything, but he just didn´t know how to react/he thought you looked cute in it though/.

he didn´t know this was what he would be coming home to.

Thank you for reading this thing, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[korizzybee]

Imagine being Jake Sully’s and Neytiri’s adopted daughter, child of someone who was an old friend of Jake’s:

Info: reader’s mom’s avatar had darkskin black features (Afro hair + dark eyes + dark blue skin) so reader also has those features, reader has an Jamaican accent, reader is Navi Avatar hybrid and has 5 fingers and eyebrows, reader is 13 years old

Boom your mom was 5 years old when she moved from Jamaica to North America, she and Jake became childhood friends (more like they became soul siblings)

The same day the RDA recruited Jake, they recruited your mother too

She also spends time observing the Navi and learning their ways with Jake, but Tsu’Tey was her teacher instead

As she lives there for months, she and Tsu’Tey fall in love and mate at the tree of spirits (JAKE N NEYTIRI DUUUUPE)

She and Neytiri actually became pregnant at the same time, literally shortly after they both mate with their men at the spirit trees

Your dad dies during the war yada yada yada, they win and skip boring stuff

For some reason when Neytiri has her baby, your mother is unable to give birth to you and she remains pregnant for 2 more years

The pregnancy drains her energy, making her look even skinnier and her skin color fade as her cheeks become hollow

When she finally gives birth and before she dies she whispers a name that’s a mixture between her’s and Tsu’Tey’s

Neytiri holds your small crying form silently shushing you while Jake cries over your mom’s dead body, she was like an older sister to him

Jake adopts you and when you’re old enough he starts teaching you about your human culture as it was a big part of your mother’s life and she loved her culture more than anything

This leads him to also explaining why you’re different from all the other Omaticaya, but he also explains it’s not a bad thing

You growing up with mixing your life with both your Navi and Jamaican cultures

You are the closest to Neteyam, he’s SOOOOO protective over you (you are his favorite shhhh don’t tell Lo’ak)

Since you’re a lot shorter than your older siblings, you often get carried by them

Jake teaching you so much about humans, pop culture references, music tastes n everything!!!! (Girl you literally take inspiration from his teachings and make your own clothing style out of Navi clothes)

Neytiri making you the most beautiful song cord ever about the love story of your mom and Tsu’Tey and your birth

You and Kiri bonding over both being adopted

You and Tuk are so goofy together, always making Neytiri laugh n shi

You two also bond over being the babies of the family

You and Lo’ak always playing tag in the forest

You immediately loved spider when you all first met him as little kids, (I mean, your mom was once human so you didn’t hate them at all)

ALWAYS wearing your mother’s Na’vi and human hair pieces and your father’s necklaces

Jake teaching you how to fight the human way because your mom was better than everyone in the RDA at that

Going to the Lab with Kiri to see videos of your moms together (they also grew to be close friends and would sometimes just make videos of them being stupid together)

Jake and Neytiri are the only ones allowed to do your hair (your mom taught them how to take care of Afro hair once), they make sure your hair is always healthy

You look so much like your mom but you get your smile, eye shape, and bodily markings from Tsu’Tey

When you can’t sleep, Jake would tell you his childhood memories about your mom

You’re a very spiritual child, always talking with a calm voice, you’re a little shy and always have a good opinion on everyone (girl while Neteyam finna future clan leader, you’re the future Tsahik)

Boom Quaritch bitch ass shows back up (YALL IM SORRY BUT HIS AVATAR IS SO FINEEEEE) and y’all have to flee

You have your own Ikran and she’s named after your mother (let’s just call her Irie)

Y’all make it to the lands of the Metkayina and Ronal starts hating on y’all for being different then she points out how your hair and looks over all are different from your family’s

Neytiri hissing at her as Neteyam and puts you behind him side eyeing Ronal, Jake defending your looks (W DAD)

Y’all get to live among the clan and lowkey….Rotxo he kind of crushing on you I mean not tryna be that one writer butttt uhhh you are the prettiest member of your family (behind Neytiri no one beats her)

You and Rotxo lowkey be flirting with your eyes, giving each other shy looks and blushing like middle schoolers

BUT ANYWAYS THAT’S IT FOR PART 1 IMA DO A PART 2 (this has been marinating in my drafts for months)

[callmelitlesunshine]

Paint It Black*

She ran through the corridors of her own mind, trying to hide. She definitely didn't want anyone to get into her head again. But, alas, it was impossible - the injection was too strong and there was no strength to resist.

Her legs were buzzing from the endless running, and the bright red doors made her want to just close her eyes. But no matter how hard she tried to close her eyes and wake up, nothing disappeared. Somewhere, a painfully familiar voice echoed, which seemed to have been with her for so long that she herself did not remember when it all began.

“Where is he, Bell?”

Yes, it seems that this is her call sign…

But no matter how long and far she tried to escape, this voice always followed her. And as she approached the desired point, it became louder. Louder. And louder each time, until Belle felt this man at all. Nearby. Right behind her. She felt the weight of his strong hand on her shoulder, his breath, a quiet voice right next to her ear… and the smell of cigarettes. Bitter and disgusting, only he smoked such cigarettes.

Bell was in a stupor and could not move. In front of her was that same red door, despite the number of ones she had already passed.

— Tell me, Bell… Where is he? — her gaze was fixed on that very door, but Adler’s voice made her shudder and look away somewhere to the side. She just wanted to make sure that he was really here. But he was in her head, despite the persistent feeling of presence.

— Open the red door, Bell….

And she couldn't resist. All she wanted was to repaint all the red doors she met in black*, so that they would no longer bother her. But her hand itself reached for the handle of this massive gates. And behind it what Adler need.

*reference to the lines from the song The Rolling Stones - Paint it Black.

Sooooo heheheh i can share this here!!

That was my big work i did some time ago! I already posted it on my insta last week, but i want post it here too :3c

In first animation of running I used a ready-made running animation to test it, but it turned out pretty good in the end and I decided to use it!

But the second animation was made from scratch by me! It was a really cool experience and i will make more of it!

Also, you can watch second animation as video here (it will be in better quality than gifs)!

Hope y'all enjoy this!

[redbleedingrose]

Rhys in grey sweatpants, I had that image put in my head now I want to spread the gospel 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Just him with his sleep hair and voice in nothing but his grey sweatpants 😮‍💨

UMMMMMM

Rhysand is totally the best dressed of all the males in the night court and possibly Prythian.

Only Eris rivals him in the clothing department and I stand firm on that statement.

He just knows what gets you going. He knows the colors that suit him and he is not afraid to work it.

I feel like for the most part, Rhys really plays the role of high lord well. And he dresses the part too.

All of his clothes are freshly tailored and laundered. He never really wears the same outfit twice. And when he meets you???

He makes sure that you have all the clothes that you could ever want or need. He also insists on matching most days. You basically are THE moment in Prythian, everyone who isn't you wants to BE you. And it is all thanks to Rhysie's impeccable fashion sense. All your clothes make you look like the star of the night, pun not intended.

And all of your shoes and jewelry he has designed for you? Don't even get me started. Each outfit needs its own individualized look and feel and vibe. And he makes sure that is there for you. He is always there to help you put together your look.

Playing dress up for him is sooooo much fun. He has you doing twirls in your dresses and gets on his knees to help you put your heels on. He kisses every portion of your exposed neck whenever he clasps on your necklaces for you. You are treated like an utter princess around him, never having to lift a finger beyond your desire.

He also loves to help you with your earrings. And he is so gentle with it too. His pretty violet eyes focusing on your ear lobe as he ever so carefully puts in your earrings. He makes sure that they don't feel to heavy or cause any irritation to your ear as you are sensitive to different kinds of metals. When he is done, his eyes focus back on you with this look of utter pride that you are his. You are his mate. His high lady. His everything. And he is just obsessed.

You are lucky if you can make it to ANY event on time because this male will find any excuse to show you just how obsessed he is.

Back to Rhys' fashion sense...

He really rarely wears clothes that are "lounge wear." TBH, I feel like he started moreso a little after meeting you because he sees what it does to you.

Rhysie is the kind of male who can look good in practically anything. But in lounge wear??? send freaking help he is the hottest male to have ever EXISTED!!!

His gray sweatpants are one of your favs on him. He is always wearing it with a tight black or navy blue t-shirt that clings to his chest and shoulders and biceps. You can basically see the outline of his abs whenever he wears those shirts (which you will be riding later so help you gods).

And omg just think of all of his tattoos exposed on his corded forearms. And think about those muscles flexing while he fingers you speechless.

Anyway, poor rhysie needs to replace his sweatpants any time he wears them because they always end up stained from you riding his thigh.

But he knows that.

Thats why he wears them, slutty smug bastard. The smirk any time he pulls them out and surprises you by wearing them is enough to know that he knows exactly what he does to you. And he is proud of it too.

His formal clothing is not to be forgotten.

His tight fitting dress shirts where he leaves the top two buttons open so that you can see his smooth tan chest underneath??? The dark swirls intricately peaking out and climbing up his neck??? The small silver chain he wears??? The one that has your name engraved over and over, all along the metal because he belongs to you??? Because he knows that every part of him, his heart and soul, is all entirely owned by you???

The only ring he wears is his wedding ring too.

Sigh, I need a Rhys.

This was terrible but I love Rhysand so you are gonna get my unhinged thoughts about him always.