#but have u seen there also may be a small one on the top of his right shoulder

[kindahoping4forever]

i am trying SO HARD to be normal this tour but the fact that luke has potentially gotten a collar bone tattoo and we can’t see what it is has me f e r a l

I want the record to show that there were 9 minutes between these messages and you're so real for that, anon, I'm right there with you 👁️👁️

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️ONE

CHAPTER ONE TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾️TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

A chance encounter under the strobe light. Hips swaying to the thumping bass. Dark eyes following her every move. Gazes meeting through the crowd. She came to him. He took her away. Changing her life forever, guiding her into submission.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Noncon/dubcon elements. Roofies. Abduction. Dom/sub dynamic. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 3.9k

A/N: Please remember: This is fiction! As much as I enjoy writing fucked-up characters, this is not real. I do not condone this behavior! Men, be nicer to women! Girls, always check your drinks! Be mindful of strangers, no matter how nice they seem and how hot they look. And be careful what you wish for! So, technically this is a modern AU of my original story Innocence Lost, picks up on some themes, but it's basically just a fucked-up man abducting a girl (it's not stated in the beginning, but she's over 18!) and having fun with her (and then things may escalate a little!). Be mindful of the tags! This may be my darkest piece yet. (Dead dove, do not eat, as they say, right?) Also pretty self-indulgent, but there is some plot between all the filthy smut that is to come, I swear. > There are no names, no physical descriptions other than a size and age difference, so you can imagine any character here! <

ONE 🟥 TWO

Innocent.

She's been innocent, the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Laughing with her friends, oblivious to her own beauty, blind to the leering stares of every single male around her. And he's been one of them, staring, watching her, looking her up and down as she moved her fragile little body to the beat of the thumping bass, motions contorted and jerky in the strobe light, hair swinging, hips shaking, lips curling into happy smiles.

So innocent.

Probably just a mask, an act. Or maybe she's really been as pure as she looked back then, he'll never know. Because as soon as he's laid his eyes on her, she's been corrupted, tainted by his dark desires. He wanted to corrupt her, ruin her, and he always got what he wanted. He lured her in, kept watching her until she noticed his stares, the darkness in his gaze, the hunger within him. And she came to him, drawn to his mystique, his persistence.

Curious little thing, clueless to the monsters around her.

He smiles at her, rakes his eyes over her body, over that outfit she chose to impress without realizing what might happen, whose attention she might attract. The tight top, squishing those small breasts (pert little nipples standing proud under the shifting breeze of the AC), showing off the flat of her stomach, the flutter of her belly after she's danced her heart out, chest heaving, sweat on her brow, beads rolling down her pale, untouched skin. Slim naked arms holding the drink between her fingers, the soft rattle of cheap jewelry on her wrists, around her neck.

Girly, cute, pure.

And that skirt, mid-thigh, tame when she's standing still, scandalous when she's moving, the fabric flowing around her legs, bending down (bending over), accidentally showing off those cute little panties beneath. Giggling when she realizes her mistake, small hands trying to cover up, but people already saw, and she's aware. She's been aware he saw everything of her. Eager eyes, big and fucking innocent, following his every move.

He takes the drink from her, stares down at her, no longer smiling, and she looks up, chin tilted, so tiny in front of him, innocent, expectant, excited. Putting the glass down, he grabs her wrist, frail cheap jewelry bending under his grip. For a small moment she's hesitant, notices the strength in his fingers, the determination behind the gesture. But she still follows him as he pulls her away from the bar, into the shadows.

How do you break an innocent girl? Show her what's what? What may happen if she steps into the lion's den wearing that skimpy top and maybe-scandalous skirt? So naive. Swinging her hips to the blasting music, bouncing those tiny tits, laughing like nothing else matters, enjoying herself. A little light in the moving darkness. A light he wants to savor before he'll let her burn out.

If she'd be any other girl, he'd have her pinned to the wall, skirt flipped up, panties ripped down, his belt open in seconds before he'd sink his cock into her tight little cunt, to ravage her, ruin her, use her like she's supposed to be used. But she's too pure to be railed against a wall, in the dimly-lit club, for everyone to see.

He still pushes her against the wall, inhaling that little gasp she issues when she hits it, looking up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, gaze blurry, pupils already dilated, the thrill of the encounter and adrenaline of the night (and possibly some drinks she was mysteriously gifted) pumping through her body. Grabbing her face with his big hands, he holds her firmly when he leans closer, takes his time, gives her time to push him away (what a rare treat, girl), but she just stands there, looking at him, a little glint in her eyes, her lips curving up ever so slightly.

She wants this.

And he gives it to her. His lips meet hers, one hand holds her cheek, thumb guiding her chin, while the other hand slips into her hair, fisting it, a tight grip to hold her as he kisses her, a soft beginning, quickly turning rougher, more hungry, desperate. And she kisses him back in the same way, mirrors his motions perfectly. Such a quick learner. Their tongues slide against each other before he pushes deeper, tastes the inside of her mouth, that sweet taste, of some sugary drink and her, so much of her, and it's intoxicating.

So sweet. Innocence oozing from every pore.

He cages her in, pushes her against the wall, feet on either side of hers, knees around her legs, and she's that tiny thing in front of him, standing there, kissing him back, but her body seems frozen, hands at her sides, immobile. Petrified? A doe-eyed thing caught in the headlights? Not for long. His hand moves down to her waist, fingers digging into soft skin, warm and smooth, slipping up under the hem of her shirt, teasing at the little mound beneath.

No bra. Too innocent (and small) to need one.

Her hand comes up then, closing around his wrist, but she's not pulling him away, she's pushing his hand higher until his rough palm closes around her breast. Tiny tits, usually not his preference, but it's cute, that little squishy flesh under his big hand, warm and soft, and the longer he kneads it, the harder her nipple pokes into his palm.

And then she moans into his mouth. His eyelids flutter, and he stares at her, lips hovering over hers, heavy breaths mingling, head spinning, the tension in his stomach making it so hard to keep his composure, to stick to his decision to spare her his usual treatment. He gropes her small tit once more before he pulls his hand back, sliding it down her side, watching her closely.

He grabs her ass cheek harder than intended and leans in to capture her mouth when she yelps quietly in response, swallowing her noises, the thump of the music vibrating through his tense body. In his mind he's already ripped her clothes off, run his hands all over her smooth, untouched skin, fingers pinching her nipples, teasing between her legs, slipping deeper, into her tight innocent warmth –

A grunt escapes him. She's gripping the front of his shirt, her small hands clinging to him while she kisses him back, eagerly, completely lost in the unexpected encounter. Eyes closed, humming against him, body inching closer, searching for his warmth. The hand on her ass pulls her against him, a little thud that makes her mewl into his mouth, before it slips lower, cups her rear, pushes her up, fingers brushing against that little damp piece of fabric, and it's enough to make him hoist her up onto his hip.

Her hands claw at the collar of his shirt while her legs wrap around him almost automatically, conditioned, programmed to submit. A deep-rooted thing she isn't aware of yet. Her pelvis presses into his hipbone as he balances her, back pressed to the wall, both of his hands now on her plump cheeks, holding, groping. He can feel her warmth, that hint of wetness, arousal she's probably confused by.

“I'm gonna take you with me,” he rasps into her neck as he leans in to shower her soft skin with hungry kisses, lips closing around her fluttering pulse, sucking the blood to the surface with a determination that surprises himself.

“What?” she breathes against his cheek, a sweet little sound in his ears, so pure, a soft hum in the atmosphere.

“Don't worry about it,” he mumbles, licking over the bruise he's created on her neck. She shivers in his hold, chest moving against him. He leans back, licking his lips, meeting her curious gaze. “You need another drink,” he says with a smirk. It's not a question.

He sets her down again, grabbing her hand, leaning over to brush his lips over her temple until she looks up at him. Then his other hand is on her chin, holding her as he crashes his mouth against hers for another searing kiss. A little whimper escapes her. She's confused, he can tell, overwhelmed by whatever is happening.

Pulling her towards the bar, he nods to the barkeeper, a gesture often used. She's leaning against him, caged between his hard body and the counter, looking up at him with those big eyes. He smiles down at her, caressing her soft cheek with the back of his finger. He's got her, he knows. She doesn't even care about her friends anymore (and they seem to have forgotten about her too, he can see them dancing on the other side of the room). All she does is look at him, mesmerized.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the bartender sliding the drinks over the counter top. He takes the prepared drink (something sugary with a special ingredient) and hands it to her, then takes the little vodka shot for himself, eyes fixed on her as he clinks the glasses together. She smiles shyly and takes a cautious sip, while he downs the shot in one go, feeling the liquid burning down his throat. The music thumps around them, the air thick and heavy with alcohol and sweat, and a tension that's just between them.

The innocent girl, sipping her drink, staring up at the man, who watches her with a predatory smirk. His hand is heavy on her hip, warm and comforting, holding her in place, thumb rubbing over her fluttering stomach. She finishes the sugary concoction and wipes her mouth, glass empty on the bar. He leans down and brushes his lips against her ear.

“Come with me,” he whispers, and she shivers, her hand finding the front of his shirt again. He steps back, his hands running along her arms until they close around her slim wrists. The bass sits low in his guts, and he can't help but move his body slightly to the music as he leads her backwards. She laughs softly, a little sway to her hips as she follows him. But they leave the dance floor and walk back into the shadows.

He watches her closely, she blinks more, eyelids heavy, lips parted, that cute little tongue out to lick them, once, twice, again, almost obsessively. He takes her to the back, past the office, the music becoming that thick beat in the distance, a deep thrum in the air, through the walls, muffled as if the world was made of cotton. He leans her against the wall, a body too easy to move by now, his hands on her shoulders as he leans down to rub his nose against hers.

“Be a good girl and stay right here,” he tells her, waiting for her to understand.

She nods slowly, licking her lips again, and he presses his mouth to hers, capturing that sweet little tongue, sucks on it, kisses her deeply, tastes the sugar and her and more. Dangerous move, but he can't help himself. He leans back, moves his lips down her jaw, along her neck, swipes his tongue in a broad stroke over that soft skin. She mewls in response, and he grins against her before leaning back.

“I'll be right back,” he says, his eyes boring into hers, making sure she does what he tells her. She nods again, biting her swollen lip.

He hasn't planned to take her, but he'll adapt, as always. It's a risky move, but he somehow knows it's going to be fine. He has an eye for these things, knows what to do if situations (opportunities) like this present themselves. Just a few calls, some more ominous nods to his employees, no problem, just a few minutes of his time to sort things out. Somewhat. He doesn't even know why he's taking her away, it just feels right. The temptation is too strong to ignore.

He shouldn't have left her.

When he returns, they are there, crowding her, two guys, frat boys probably, drunk out of their minds, slurring and stumbling, but determined to take what is now his. He's on them in no time, hand ripping them away from the frightened but still confused girl, frozen in place as hands gripped and groped her, slipping under her clothes, going places that are reserved to him.

His fist lands hard against a jaw, one of them tumbling to the floor with a howl, the other, too drunk to react, just stares at him, and he doesn't wait for him to realize what is happening. There's blood on his knuckles when the second guy goes down as well, two crumpled guys on the floor, holding their bloody faces. He grabs the girl with his left hand, carefully pulling her against him. She's swaying, legs trembling, arms wrapping around his waist helplessly.

One of the boys stirs, and he steps on his hand and kicks him back, another howl swallowed by the distant thump of the music. He takes a few steps, raps his fist against the door. A bouncer opens it, and he tilts his head towards the mess behind him. “Take care of this,” he orders, and the burly man nods, slipping into the club while he maneuvers the girl out of it.

The night is cold, semi-fresh air, but the noises are no longer muffled. The city breathes around them as he guides her to his car, parked in the back. She clings to him, barely able to function on her own anymore, eyes heavy, lips parted. He leans her against the trunk, hands holding her soft face, looks her over. She looks at him from under her lashes, too out of it to realize anything anymore. He gives her a soft kiss to her warm cheek, a little giggle escapes her.

She falls into the passenger seat, a frail little body unable to move on its own. He leans over to buckle her in, feeling her deep breaths on his chin. A short side glance shows him she has her eyes closed, chest rising and falling, head lolled to the side. His hand is on her cheek as he kisses her gently, savoring the warmth, already imagining what he could use her for. But he has to be patient.

When he rounds the car to get behind the wheel, his morals flare up, a rare occurrence, but the sight of her slumped into the seat, helpless and fucking innocent, makes him wonder how it's come to this. He's seen her dancing, in that tight top and short skirt, a laughing little light in the darkness around her. Pure. Ready to be soiled. He inhales the cold night air and slips into the driver seat, shaking his head to get rid of those damn doubts, flexing his bloodied knuckles on the steering wheel as he turns his head towards her small form.

In the end she is just another body to be used, like she should be.

They arrive at his place, and it's a blur for him to get her into the elevator, a little breathing bundle in his arms, so light and heavy at the same time. Temptation. He puts her down on the bed, watches her, how she curls up into a ball of limbs and hair, breathing softly, skirt bunched up around her hips, that sweet round butt on display, cute panties he wants to rip off her immediately. But he refrains, sighs, turns away to wash the blood off his hands.

Unbuttoning his shirt as he returns, his eyes are on her, taking in every detail. He keeps his pants on, keeps his hard erection in place for now, no matter how difficult it is to hold back. The urge to just take her is strong, push those panties aside and impale her on his thick cock. It'd be so easy. She wouldn't even feel anything, wouldn't remember a single thing. And there's the problem. He doesn't want to fuck a lifeless body, no matter how cute she looks.

He wants to see the fear in her eyes, the pain when he penetrates her, stretches her, deflowers her, possibly. Maybe even the lust growing in her pupils, that dilated look of pure bliss. Who knows, she might be into this. She followed him so willingly, she came to him, after all, approached the monster that kept staring at her. She made the first step. He just watched.

She stirs on the bed, soft little noises tumbling past her lips. He leans over her, rolls her onto her back, turns her head to the side so she won't choke on her own spit. There are other things he wants her to choke on. Later. It's almost caring how he brushes her hair out of her face, caresses her cheek, flushed and warm from sleep. Thumb finding the contours of her lips, soft and wet, pushing between them, into her mouth, searching for that sweet little tongue.

He pulls back with a deep sigh. Watching her for another moment, he decides to undress her after all. At least the skirt has to go, so he moves his hands under her body and fumbles for the zipper, then pulls it off her slim legs, nudges her shoes and socks off in the same move. He even removes her cheap jewelry, the soft clanging sounds of the thin metal filling the quiet room. She stirs slightly, smacks her lips, but doesn't wake. Not that she could, not yet. He folds the skirt and puts it on the nightstand, the sneakers he leaves under the bed, socks tucked into them, then turns his attention back to her sleeping form.

So fucking innocent in her tight top and those cute panties. A soft pink with little white bows on it. Childish almost, a girl caught in that awkward phase between adulthood and innocence, right on the verge. He doesn't know how old she is, but he trusts his bouncers to only let in girls of age. They're experts in finding fake IDs, good judges of character also. To be honest, though, it wouldn't change anything anyway. She is here now, on his bed, ready to be used, soiled, ravaged. He can't fucking wait.

But he has to, so he leans back and inhales deeply, ignoring the strain in his pants. His hands are itching to touch her, feel that warm smooth skin, pure and untouched. Almost. He can see the bruise on her neck that he worked into her. His mark. The beginning of many more, he's sure. He leans in, braced on one arm, one knee denting the mattress, his other hand tracing her jaw until he feels the little thump of her heartbeat in her jugular. His fingers curl around her neck, thumb pressed to her throat, as he stares down at her.

His mind floods with images of soft lips strained around his cock as he forces it down her throat, the tears in her eyes, the desperate grip of her fingers, trying to push him away as she struggles to breathe, spit and cum on her face, dripping down her chin, down between her tiny tits, chest heaving, throat bulging, a small body shuddering under the assault. He leans back with a groan, his stomach tensing in anticipation.

His hand trails down her side, teases those soft mounds under the top, scrapes over the hem of her panties, down her inner thigh, a little nudge and her legs open, a body to move how he wants to, so pliant. He's tempted to throw his plans overboard, the urge growing to just take her and relieve the throbbing need in his pants. His fingers are shaking as he brushes them between her legs, over the soft, slightly damp fabric of her underwear.

He can't help himself any longer, he slips a finger under the hem, feels her warm skin and the slick gathering between her soft folds. Biting his lip, he traces her slit, from the little hidden nub down to her entrance, and he can already tell she's never been touched here before, tight and pure. Maybe she's had her own little fingers in there, but she'll soon find out that it won't compare to anything he's planning to do to her.

A grunt escapes him when he pushes the tip of his finger into her hole, a little squelching sound accompanied by a little whimper. He looks up, but she's still gone, head turned to the side, drool gathering in the corner of her parted lips. He watches her as he dips his finger deeper, feels the tight grip of her cute little cunt, so warm and squishy, barely able to accommodate one of his digits. This will take some work if he wants to keep her.

He's used virgins before, broke them, ravaged them until their blood mixed with his cum, their pained screams like music in his ears, but this girl... she's too innocent to be treated like that. It's a strange feeling he's never had before. It's warm and somewhat comforting, as smooth as her tight little pussy. He pumps his finger slowly in and out, noticing the wetness gathering around it. Her mind may be clouded, but her body reacts nonetheless.

Why not start her training while she's unconscious? Might make it easier for her once she comes to. He settles next to her, pushing her panties aside more to allow his thumb to find her clit. Pumping his finger, he rubs it gently, draws tight circles around that sensitive bundle of nerves, feels it pulsing under his touch. His cock twitches against the fabric of his pants, and he grits his teeth to ignore it.

Her body shudders, little uncontrollable twitches in her thighs, her stomach fluttering, her soft breaths slightly faster as he keeps working his finger into her tight warmth. His eyes on her face, relaxed in sleep, but there's still a little twitch to her eyebrows, a little furrow, a quiet whimper falling from those plump lips. He fingers her faster, thumb pushing harder on her nub, those sweet squelching sounds making his head spin.

A tiny moan erupts from her throat, a quiet “Ah...” humming in the atmosphere, and he feels her tensing up, her walls gripping his finger, but he works it in and out still, knuckles-deep, thumb assaulting her clit. He wants to lean in and taste her so bad, but somehow he holds himself back, another trait he's new to. Instead he watches her small body convulsing under his touch, hips jerking against his hand, cunt clamping down on his digit, and when he pulls it out, her wetness seeps out of the tiny hole, trailing down to the other, dripping onto the sheets.

He inhales deeply, takes in that sweet scent of her orgasm, and wipes his hand on her inner thigh, spreading her release on her warm skin, before he leans back and brings his finger to his lips, unable to fight the urge to taste her after all. He prefers to have his face between soft thighs, drinking directly from that intoxicating fountain, but for now it'll do. His tongue laps around his fingertip, and he closes his eyes, taking her in, that sweet, sweet taste.

Before he leaves her be, he adjusts her panties and throws the blanket over her sleeping form. Then it's a short trip to the bathroom, shower turned on, clothes discarded on the floor, and he's barely in there when his right hand closes around his angrily throbbing cock.

Fuck. This girl will be a challenge. An exercise in restraint.

🟥 TWO

End notes: So, I guess the slow burn of Innocence Lost got to me, big time. I have no idea from what dark and ugly depths I pulled this story, but it is here, at least the first 10 chapters of it, the first season if you will. (And there will be more!) I'll upload a new chapter every Monday!

I hope the tags didn't put you off too much, but if you are reading this, maybe you pulled through, and I thank you for it! Thank you for joining me on this wild ride! I appreciate you very much!

By the way, this all came to be, somehow, because I've been listening to a lot of Electric Callboy recently (strangely enough, iykyk) and their video to Hate/Love kinda brought this all down. Or at least started it all. Sometimes inspiration strucks in the weirdest forms.

Thanks again for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE ◾️TEN

ELEVEN◾️TWELVE ◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

[emmyrosee]

Cate hate kageyama and that’s canon!!! Imagine reader bringing home a kitten (assuming that it was born in the shelter so they had any interaction with the strays )and its the first ever cat that reciprocated tobio’s affection 🤭 our baby boy would probably bawl her eyes out hsjsndvdvs

GOD MY POOR BABY NOOOOOO

You’d passed the little fuzzball completely by chance driving home from the bakery, breakfast sandwiches in a brown bag in the passenger seat next to you. You slam on your breaks as hard as you can, completely oblivious to the other drivers blaring their horns at you.

A tiny grey cat, pawing at a toy in front of the window, with the sweetest little face you’ve ever seen. Your jaw slacks as you coo in your car, hands clutching your chest.

You immediately whip out your phone, snap a picture of the little ball of fur, and send it to Tobio.

SENT tell me not to get a cat

tobio 🩵 ok

don’t get a cat

SENT but tobioooooooouhhhhh

tobio 🩵 we don’t have room for a cat

SENT we can make room

tobio 🩵 why would you tell me to tell you to not get a cat

if you’re going to argue that we should get a cat

SENT f u I’m getting this cat

tobio 🩵 DO NOT. GET. THE CAT.

Needless to say, your breakfast sandwiches, now cold and soggy, rest in one hand, the other hand grasping a small carrier case, a tiny kitten inside looking around curiously at the changes in scenery. You excitedly drive home, talking to the small cat about Tobio, where the kitten will be sleeping, and how he’s going to be hesitant at first, but will grow to adore her.

It’s his adoration of you that’s in jeopardy right now.

You pull up home much later than you’d originally left for, and you brace yourself for the worst as you haul the kitten and sandwiches up the stairs to your front door, struggling with it briefly before coming face to face with a pouting Tobio.

“No thanks, wasn’t hungry at all,” he grumbles.

You merely rock back and forth on your feet, “you’ll forgive me once you meet our new addition.”

He rolls his eyes, “so I tell you no cat, and you immediately hear ‘buy the cat’?”

“Yes.” You open the small carrier case and allow the tiny cat to creep out on her own time, sniffing the air and looking up at you both in intrigue.

Then, she makes a beeline for Tobio’s pants. And starts to fiddle with it.

“Cats don’t like me,” he scoffs, reaching for the bag of barely edible breakfast sandwiches.

“What!” You say incredulously. “That’s ridiculous, cats like everyone!”

“First of all, no, they don’t,” he says, trying to ignore the kitten clawing his pajama pants. “Cats are notorious for hating people and hating their company. Secondly, every cat I’ve met has bit or clawed or hissed at me. Hell, look at this one-“ he gestures his hand down to the little cat chewing the cuff of his sweats. “Trying to bite me and shit.”

You lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, “if she wanted to bite you, baby, she would’ve. Come here,” you gently scoop the kitten into your hands, “just pet her.”

“Shes going to scratch my eye out.”

“And I’ll love you all the same.”

Hesitantly, he reaches out to let the cat sniff his fingers, and once she does, she rubs her tiny face against him, purring softly. You beam, “see? She likes you!”

“She doesn’t know what she likes,” he grumbles. Regardless, he continues to rub his thumb over her head, the size contrast making you swoon. “….she is real damn cute though.”

“See?” You say happily. “And she does like you. See how she’s angling into your touch?”

He blinks his blue eyes down at the kitten, her eyes fluttered closed the longer he lingers his touch back and forth over the pattern on top of her head. He cracks a smile, a small one, and you feel your heart soar.

“Fine,” he says, smiling at the cat. “We can keep her.”

“YESSSS!”

“But you’re cleaning her shit. They may hate people but they’re also fucking feral creatures.”

“Just like you?” You ask, and his face drops.

“One time. ONE TIME I forget to flush the toilet, never hear the end of it.”

[nymphomatique]

I NEED MORE OF LOSER NERD MIGUEL PLEASEEEEE YOU'VE AWAKENED SOMETHING IN ME

ask and you shall receive they say! here’s some more word vomit 2 hold u over while the full fic is loading 🤭

cw: mean reader LOL she calls miguel a bitch, foot humping, spit, shoe licking🫣, d/s play, miguel is down horrendous, hair pulling. might have missed smt but oh well. also this isn’t proofread oops lolz. but enjoy!! 💋

in #my opinion i think that loser boy miguel is into the degrading stuff. like the more embarrassing it is for him the more it turns him on.

setting the scene for you: miguel is over at your dorm doing you online lab work for you on your laptop while you’re getting ready to go out. naturally you have on the skimpiest number, tits out, ass out, the body is hypnotic, the whole nine.

miguel steals glances of you because while you may be a little bit of a bitch sometimes, god were you beautiful. you catch him staring and sneer at him and it makes him blush and duck his head down once more to do his- your homework.

the finisher? the heels you put on. they’re patent black pumps, red bottoms naturally. and miguel absolutely loses it. he feels his dick start to twitch in his sweats instantly and is already blushing a furious red.

“what’s got you excited, dweeb?” you tease, putting on your earrings. “bet your little nerd dick got hard looking at me, huh.”

he doesn’t say anything and just blushes even more and you laugh because he really is hard! nerd or not, one thing you can’t deny is the meat miguel is packing. you could fit some fun for the two of you before your uber came, if you were fast that is.

“promise it’s not cus i’m a perv.. i swear.. you look nice. s’all.” miguel sputters under your intense gaze.

“yeah? what part of me do you think looks the nicest, hmm?” you say while sauntering over him. he looks down at your shoes silently and you see the tent in his pants twitch. “you got a fucking shoe fetish, freak?” you giggle.

“n-no! it’s not-” he tries but you’re already thinking of how to embarrass him.

“don’t lie to me. you like the mommy dom shit, huh? well, come hump mommies foot.” you say standing only two feet away from where he’s sitting on the bed. he stares up at you with his glasses widening his already blown out eyes. “or don’t. i don’t have all day.”

with that he moves your laptop aside and strips down to his briefs. he makes his way to walk over to you but an idea strikes you. “crawl to me.”

and crawl he does, his tan skin and blooming back musculature making it’s way towards you on all fours.

“good boy. kiss my shoes and thank them before you start.” you say, your downcast gaze holding all the same authority and tension as your tone. he places both of his hands on the floor and begins to lower his lips to your shoe, his full lips making contact with your shoe.

“t-thank you, mistress, f- for letting me use your shoe to get off.” he says shakily, eyes averting your gaze. your mouth pulls into a small smile at his pathetic display. you almost laugh.

“i’m pleased. you may begin.” and miguel wastes no time, his swollen dick making itself seen in his boxer print. once again, you find yourself impressed at the heavy dick miguel packs. you figure it was probably given to him in place of a backbone. he scoots until his length is at the tip of your leather clad toes and he slowly begins to grind against your foot, letting out soft exhales of air.

“hurry up, i don’t have all day.” you spit, getting a little impatient at the time he’s taking. wordless, he speeds up his humping at your foot, his hand coming up to your leg, gripping your calf and the other hand placed palm down next to your foot to steady himself. as he speeds up, his moans come out louder and more frequently, his praises seeming to slip in with them.

you’re greatful for his height, because even on his knees, the top of his head reaches your lower stomach. you grab a fist full of his thick hair and jerk his head back so he can face you, and his expression sends a wave of heat through you. his face is flushed, eyes watering, mouth open spilling out moans of “thank you, mistress, so g-good.. i’m your good boy.. wanna be good..”

“wanna be good, huh? open your mouth for me then,” and without hesitation, he opens his mouth to you, and you spit into his mouth, some hitting the corner of his lip. “close your mouth and swallow it, bitch boy.” ever so eager to follow instructions, he does with a sated expression on his face. your spit seems to have excited him more, considering he’s fully thrusting against your foot now.

“c-can i cum please mistress? it hurts so bad. n-need it please, need you. f-fuuuck,” his pleading makes something in your chest tighten, seeing the power you have over this six foot two hunk of musculature beneath you, jumping at your foot like a depraved animal. he’s looking up at you, your hand still present in his messy hair, and with a cruel smile, you allow him to cum. “cum for your mistress.”

with a few more thrusts, he releases a heavy moan and cums into his briefs, occasionally twitching during his come down. before he gets a chance to speak, you push him off your leg and place a shoe to his balls, pressing ever so slightly, releasing a pert whimper out of miguel. “you made a mess of my louboutins.” you say flatly. “clean them.”

he takes no time to get on his knees and begin to lick your heel clean of his semen. you laugh at the sight, and even more when you see he’s sporting the beginning of another erection.

“fucking pathic,” you chortle. with your uber outside, you push your heel against his forehead and begin to walk away to get your purse as if nothing happened. “finish my homework and get the fuck out, if i see you’re still here when i get back, you’re cleaning the soles of my shoes next.” and with that, you leave your dorm with miguel in his soiled underwear on your floor, and your shoes sporting a new shine.

[ariicandy]

“ YOUR A WHATT?? ”

About — You thought you had a good idea who your beloved Dan Heng truly is. A kindhearted, caring, and loving man, but not in the whole universe a vampire!!

A/N — Halloween fic!! I wrote this during the busiest time for me...anyways!! hopefully this makes up no fic for September.. FYI I used both Stelle & Caelus so pick which one u prefer as trailblazer!

Word Count — 617

You thought you understood your beloved Dan Heng since his reveal of his past and moving forward with it. Patient for him and still loving him for how he is not caring what he may had done in his past, you can see he is trying to move forward forgetting that old him. Dan Heng felt more in love with you because of how patient and caring you are with him. Sometimes he believes he doesn’t deserve you and your kindness to not get involve with both his internal conflict of his past and external conflict of still being seen as Dan Feng.

So when you were gonna kiss Dan Heng you notice something pointy sticking out when he gave a small wide smiled at you, and how almost pale he looks as well. You being curious as you never notice or even seen him have any sharp pointy teeth before when he reveals a wide smile to you. Or look pale at all today. “Dan Heng, did you ever have any sharp pointy teeth? You seem a little pale as well are you okay?” Dan Heng was shocked and startled from your surprise question. He didn’t think you would notice any changes to him physically so soon, he thought he would have a week to think how to tell you. “I don’t really have any sharp pointy teeth..I was planning on telling you but I don’t really know how and knowing you, you probably would freak out a little why.” You became confused and a little worried. Dan Heng’s words made you think what he means by “freak out a little” is it something bad!? Is he sick and hiding it from you?? Seeing by your face Dan Heng let out a small sigh and example.

“I was walking with March 7th and Stelle/Caelus when March spotted this shiny object. It turns out it was some potion of something we didn’t know at the time until Stelle/Caelus snatched the potion out of March 7th’s hands. They kept fighting and it spilled where I almost caught it in the air where it landed on top of me and spilled on top of me. Turns out the potion is making someone a vampire when touched or drank from the label on the back..” Dan Heng looked to the side to see some of his books on the shelf out of embarrassment. “W-wait what!?” “Don’t yell so loud [Name].” Dumbfounded by what you just heard, a potion that turned your boyfriend into a vampire that March, Stelle/Caelus and Dan Heng didn’t realize until it hit onto Dan Heng!? How in the world did it get to this?! “This is crazy! How in the world did this even happen! Do you only have the features of a vampire or fully feel like one? This is so confusing.” Dan Heng reassures you. “I only have the features like the fangs and strong smell, I’m not fully one and it said it would wear off after 2 days.” After explaining that all to you Dan Heng began to nuzzle his head into your shoulder and hold you close, wanting to explain more of how he became a vampire was also puzzling to him for being with 2 chaotic people who cause him to be a temporary vampire.

“Are your fangs actually sharp and pointy? Can I see them I only saw a tiny glimpse-” Suddenly you were startled by Dan heng gently biting into your skin to stop your questions on looking at his new vampire features. “You know you didn’t have to dig your teeth into me to drink my blood?” You said teasingly. Dan Heng only looked at you deadpan.

[sugusoneandonly]

Quixotic - STSG - ch 1

satosugu x fem!reader . ft. model!gojo & designer!geto

next

!! do not repost/copy on any other platform !! if u do at least lmk where and give creds 😒 !! pls don’t tho <3

cw: power dynamics/imbalance?? ,, established!stsg (no cheating) ,, webtoon inspired & lwk self-indulgent 😞 ,, y/n may be unlikable idk ntm on her guys 🥰

exes to lovers (gojo) ,, one-sides enemies to lovers w geto ,, very feminine + slight meek reader??

a/n!! :: hi this is my first fic ,, have mercy <33

some prior info for now i will add more later (and clean it up)

- not much of an age gap, suguru is js very successful at a young age.

- takes place 2 years after their breakup (mc | satoru)

- y/n is currently a fashion major in her final year of college and fortunately lives near her college and the shadowing program.

- the general plot is y/n is shadowing (following around, studying, etc. not rlly working for him

- NOTTT really real life accurate 🥰

Had you known that coming across your biggest idol would come along with meeting your oh so beloved ex, you would’ve thrown away whatever dreams had clouded your ambitious mind. Yet lo and behold, in front of you stood one of the most renowned fashion designers in the industry with your ex-boyfriend hanging off of him as a price tag (a very expensive tag for that matter).

Suguru Geto stood with pride as his spine and extravagance as his feet, hair that could’ve been painted with the midnight sky half up while the rest cascaded down his back. With an arm on his shoulder, and hair that would make the moon had Suguru’s been the sky, stood Satoru Gojo, your beloved ex. Both men dressed to the nines, outfits that were worth your monthly rent each.

You had cursed the creak of the door that had announced your entrance when you saw them. Gojo however, remained unaware of the stress that climbed your body. Instead, his lifted his eyes to meet yours, blinking back yet letting a small grin tickle his face. “Y/N!” his voice had drawn Suguru’s eyes to follow his line of sight like a siren.

Now, you and Gojo hadn’t had a horrendous break-up (although it’s after affects on you weren’t quite so), in fact it was rather peaceful (while it lasted). Gojo had called your 2 years of love off when he decided that he wanted to pursue a bigger, grander, future, one that apparently hadn’t included you. While he had wanted to go out, meet new people, flitter about the industry, the strain of a relationship had left awkward stains on his work. Especially certain modeling gigs that made him some extra cash.

It was your final year out of college and as one of the top students in your major, you had been provided a shadowing opportunity with various fashion designers to mentor the new rising generation of fashion. However, the pairings were randomized and the last person you’d expect to be yours was one of the greatest and youngest designers, who was also rumored to be your exes lover. How romantic. You had come across Geto’s work originally in a magazine for your project, and had looked him up online. While doing your extended research, you had seen the bright face of Gojo on several of his posts wearing his designs. Immediately you fell in love with his success, ethic, and designs. Dresses so intricate and suits embellished, as if they had walked straight of the manhwas you read.

Geto’s brow had raised at the mention of your name, no doubt familiar with it and the story that may have came with it. His eyes pierced through you, a small hum and what appeared to be a shadow of discontent danced over his face before it went away. He had leaned closer into Gojo after a thorough inspection of you. the rumors hold true then

“Hi.” slipped through your lips at last, however, meek. You feel 12 again showcasing your painting to the old judges in an art contest. Not an ounce of professionalism. Perhaps it wasn’t to late to run out yet.

“Y/N? I heard lots about you” Suguru’s voice came out like silk drowned in a snakes hiss, anxiety bubbled in your blood. “Good things I hope..I look forward to working with you..?” His lack of facial response had you lost in which direction to move this conversation. Instead of a response he simply hummed at looked back at the paper in his hands. Gojo, just as awkward standing beside him.

I wanna go home

©sugusoneandonly 2024

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[lurkingshan]

why do you continue to watch gmmtv shows when you clearly don’t enjoy them?

This is the kind of rude, cowardly anonymous ask that I would typically just delete, but I’m in the mood to be generous so I will respond and use it as an educational moment.

I have to start by rejecting your premise. I enjoy plenty of GMMTV shows. My favorite Thai bl of this year is Cherry Magic Thailand. I wrote quite lovingly about it on this hellsite for 12 weeks. I was also a big fan of Cooking Crush and The Trainee this year, Kidnap is giving me joy weekly, and I’m currently in the midst of a really interesting discussion with people far more mature than you about Peaceful Property. GMMTV is also responsible for some of my all time favorite Thai shows including Bad Buddy, 3 Will Be Free, Midnight Museum, Theory of Love, Moonlight Chicken, and Dark Blue Kiss, and many more besides that I liked a lot. You don't know me. You have made the mistake of assuming that because you’ve seen a small fraction of my posts about specific things, you know what I think about all kinds of things. But as my beloved departed grandfather loved to say, when you assume you make an ass out of u and me. 

So with that out of the way, let’s get to the real question underneath your logical fallacy: why don’t I keep my mouth shut instead of posting about the flaws I observe in these shows? There are a number of reasons for that.

First, I am extremely open about the fact that I am interested in the art and science of narrative storytelling, and I often post about it from a critical lens. This is all in the pinned post at the top of my blog, but I doubt someone with your lack of manners bothered to look there before sending me this ask. 

Second, I don’t believe in the popular fandom idea that all meta discussion of shows should be positive and centered on stanning for actors or pairs and their shows. That's a fine pursuit for folks who enjoy engaging with media that way, but I personally find that boring and intellectually empty, and have very little interest in it. I like to learn from the things I enjoy, and you can't learn if you're not willing to think critically about why something in a story may or may not be working.

Third, my favorite thing about watching media is discussing it with like-minded people, and the way to find like-minded people is to share your honest feelings about what you're watching. I have made some of the best friends of my life by posting my unfiltered thoughts about whatever I'm watching in various social media spaces, and having people come and say "hey, me too" or "I don't quite agree but what an interesting thought." We connect with others through sharing our thoughts and feelings. If you censor yourself in fandom spaces, you will not find your people.

Fourth, on the specific topic of GMMTV: they are the largest and best resourced ql-producing studio in the biggest ql-producing country, and part of a giant media conglomerate that controls much of the media in Thailand. Their shows matter in terms of the influence they have over the rest of the industry, and so the messages they send with their shows also matter. I will never ignore them completely even when I choose not to watch some of their shows, because where they go, the larger ql industry follows. When I see a trend in their shows that is harmful, like, say, the repeated use of marginalized identities for marketing their shows that they then disrespect in the way the stories are executed, that needs to be pointed out and examined, and I am hardly the only one doing so.

I'll end by asking you a question, anon: what did you hope to accomplish by sending me this ask? Unlike many of the other folks who have been engaging in critical discussion with me over the last couple days, you had nothing constructive to say. You didn't put forward an interpretation or share your own feelings, you didn't contribute to the collective analysis process, and you didn't offer any commiseration or even a clear disagreement with anything I said. From where I'm sitting, your only intent was to attempt to shame me for speaking. You will never be successful at that, and it's a pretty ugly impulse that you should examine in yourself. When you find yourself being awful to real human beings because you can't manage your emotions about fictional media, it's time to think about what you're doing here. I hope you'll reflect on that, and take good care.

[damagedcoda6669]

hiiiii!!!! i was wondering if u could share some of the most common to least common bpd symptoms?….and maybe ones u struggle with??? <:3

ive been thinking i have bpd for awhile,, (since i was 15,i’m almost 18 now) BUT i dont wanna self diagnose bc i don’t wanna offend anyone……is that offensive? to self diagnose? idek <:p

there isnt rlly least 2 most common, bpd is a spectrum and has a wide range of experiences!!! but i will list the diagnostic criteria 4 u, and explain it in a way some1 first learning abt bpd can understand ^w^

u must experience at least 5 of the 9 symptoms from the criteria in order 2 be diagnosed!!!

1: frantic efforts 2 avoid real or imagined abandonment; this does not include suicidal or self mutilating behavior covered in criteria 5.

this means an intense fear of abandonment. if u have bpd, being abandoned by those u love is most likely ur biggest fear. ik its mine!!! xD this can look like a number of things. this can include an avoidant attachment style, pushing ppl away becuz u feel a need 2 abandon them first b4 it happens 2 u. u might do the opposite and cling rlly hard. u might resort 2 manipulation tactics n threats 2 try 2 get them 2 stay even if its not in their best interest (not every1 w bpd does this, and not every1 w bpd doing this is doing it on purpose. ive done this in the past b4 i reflected on my own behavior and realized it was wrong. we r not abusers by default and we dont have bad intentions.) u might beg them 2 stay, promise them things, try 2 change urself 4 them, yell at them 4 wanting 2 leave. its terrifying what the fear might do 2 u.

2: a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes of idealization and devaluation.

this ones pretty simple, consistently unstable relationships throughout ur life!!! but it might get a lil confusing at "extremes of idealization and devaluation", so ill try 2 explain that using a term from the bpd community, "splitting". splitting is when u switch from one extreme view of a person, object, character, pretty much anything, 2 the opposite. it USUALLY means going from loving some1 2 hating them, but it can mean the opposite (hating 2 loving), and it can apply 2 anything, not just a person. a good example of splitting is when ur fp (favorite person, another term from the bpd community) disagrees with u abt smth, or u see them hanging out with other ppl, u mightve viewed them as perfect b4 and now u feel an intense hatred and can only see them as a bad person. 2 other ppl, experiencing such a drastic change in perception over smth so small is seen as ridiculous, but rlly its entirely valid. its part of the disorder, its okay.

3: markedly and persistently unstable self image or sense of self.

u dont rlly know who u r a lot of the time, u dont have a strong sense of identity, if any at all. u might change styles often, change the way u talk, the jokes u make, ur beliefs, ur interests, ur hobbies. u might find urself basing ur entire personality on those around u. a common experience is that when ur favorite person or favorite ppl leave u, u dont know who u r anymore, becuz ur entire sense of self was mirrored from them. its like being a chameleon, but ur constantly mirroring other ppl, and ur nevr rlly ur own person.

4: impulsivity in at least two areas that r potentially self damaging (the examples listed in the DSM-5 include spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, and binge eating, but i will provide moar examples!!!); this does not include suicidal or self mutilating behavior covered in criteria 5.

this ones also pretty simple!!! but personally i find that i become moar impulsive while in a bad headspace, or while im having a bpd episode/suicidal outburst. moar impulsive actions may include property damage, physical fights, running away, cutting contact with ppl, getting in contact with ppl who u know r dangerous, etc. those r all i could think of off the top of my head and they may not be the best examples, srry!!! :(

5: recurrent suicidal behaviors, gestures, threats, or self mutilating behavior.

i would like 2 say that self harm doesnt just mean cutting!!! self harm includes burning, hitting, ripping out hair, picking at skin, stabbing, and many moar. personally ive always been a cutter and i started when i was 9 or 10, but i want every1 2 know that all self harm is valid and this is a safe space 2 discuss it. im not gonna make any1 feel ashamed of it <3 also!!! suicidal threats and gestures may come across as manipulative, but that is almost NEVR our intention. we may act out in suicidal ways becuz its the only thing that gets us any sort of attention or care that we desperately need. i dont give a shit abt "ew theyre threatening suicide 4 attention, lets ignore them" becuz attention is a basic human need, and some1 threatening suicide REGARDLESS of their intentions is always a concern. whether its a call 4 help or not, they need help. dont disregard their mental health becuz their suicidal ideation doesnt present in an "acceptable" manner. all suicidal ideation, IS suicidal ideation. whether its passive, 4 attention, active w a plan, its all valid and requires attention and care.

6: affective instability due 2 a marked reactivity of mood (eg, intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely moar than a few days)

intense mood swings!!! u can feel happy one moment, and then switch 2 being depressed or anxious, and then go back 2 "normal" 10 minutes later. sometimes it just happens 4 no reason!!! absolutely fucking sucks

7: chronic feelings of emptiness.

this one is hard 2 explain and can mean varying things 4 different ppl. 4 me, it means i will never be happy in the long term (maybe with medication, but.. rawdogging life? bad idea) nothing gives me any sort of long term joy and i dont feel like i have a purpose. its like theres a hole in my chest that will nevr be filled. nothing will make me complete.

8: inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (eg, frequent displays of temper, constant anger, or recurrent physical fights)

angy

(also not every1 w bpd gets in2 physical fights or r angry at other ppl often, some ppl r moar angry at themselves)

9: transient, stress related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

paranoia is a symptom of bpd!!! although its shortlived in nature, and as stated above, stress related. dissociative symptoms can also present in a variety of ways!!! u can present with a fractured sense of self which may actually lead 2 u developing headmates iirc, but with them usually appearing as other versions of urself. or u might just dissociate due 2 stress or ur brain wanting 2 remove traumatic memories, 4 me dissociating feels like the whole world is fuzzy and blurry and i cant form any thoughts or emotions. i have dissociative amnesia and experience memory loss when this happens, which sucks becuz i dissociate at least once everyday. my memories r incredibly spotty and unreliable, its liek my brain is made of swiss cheese!!!

personally, i experience all of the symptoms from the diagnostic criteria, and they all effect my life on a daily basis. but that isnt 2 say that u need all of them in order 2 have bpd, as i said b4, u only need at least 5!!! there r also different types of bpd (not medically, theyre labels created by the bpd community) look in2 it if u resonate with some of the symptoms but not all of them!!! a lot of ppl who suspect they have bpd but dont present in a stereotypical way often relate 2 the term "quiet bpd", i recommend looking in2 it!!!

self diagnosis is entirely valid, and most of the ppl who r offended by it r neurotypical or they dont have the disorders that ppl r self diagnosing with. it stems mostly from ableism towards autistic ppl, specifically autistic ppl who self diagnose becuz they know theyre autistic but dont have the resources/time 2 get a diagnosis from a professional. if u believe ur borderline, and u've done ur research, i believe u. self diagnosis is not actually offensive 2 those who have mental disorders, im pretty sure the bpd community is accepting of self diagnosis!!! and if u cant find a community of ppl who r accepting of ur self diagnosis, just know that i believe u and this is a safe space 4 self diagnosis and ppl w bpd :3

bpd is also incredibly hard 2 get diagnosed with. its one of the most stigmatized disorders and often mental health professionals have a bias against it. sometimes, professional diagnosis is not an option 4 us. i knew i had bpd 4 years b4 i was able 2 get diagnosed. good luck!!!!

[talkfastwalkfaster]

Moonglade ~ AOTC!Anakin Skywalker

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊

A/N: this took me way too long to write & i'm not completely happy with how the beginning turned out but. also, this quickly became a purely self-indulgent fic, especially during the end portion. but i hope u guys enjoy this as much as i ended up doing ♡ WC: 2,035 Warnings: fluff, making out

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊

You glanced around the temple halls — despite knowing that the chances of you two getting caught after hours were slim, you still wanted to be careful. “Are you sure we should be doing this out in the open? Anyone could walk past and see us, Ani,” you whispered, wondering why you agreed to meet him behind a column instead of in one of your quarters.

Anakin chuckled softly before leaning in and kissing you. “You worry too much, angel. What’s the point of sneaking out if there’s no excitement to it? We’re not even truly doing anything. Besides, I missed you.”

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Since the war started, you hadn’t seen much of each other lately — with Anakin co-commanding the 212th with his master and you the 104th with yours. You supposed that he was right. The two of you had done worse when sneaking out — from taking a speeder and exploring Coruscant to hiding on top of the temple, this seemed insignificant compared to them.

You smiled and unconsciously leaned closer to him, wanting nothing more than to be intertwined with him so you would never have to be apart again. “I missed you too. I’m sorry for missing your comm yesterday. Master Koon was very insistent on having no distractions during training.”

Anakin had returned from a mission yesterday and craved to see you again after being apart for the better of two weeks. Despite having possessed this longing, he waved off your apology, knowing that he only commed to inform you that he was back, nothing too important. “It’s alright, I understand. We all get busy.”

You shook your head, feeling guilty that you weren’t able to welcome him back as soon as you would have liked. “Still, I should’ve at least sent a message, even if it was a small one.”

Anakin gave a soft shrug, his blue eyes glanced over to you before looking up at the murals — he didn't really mind that you hadn't messaged him, though he found it sweet that you felt bad about not being able to do so. He let out a soft laugh as his eyes wandered back to you. “You really gotta cut yourself some slack, angel. You're always getting stressed over the little stuff," He said softly, his hands slipping from his robe’s pockets to rest on his hips.

While it may not seem like a major thing to anyone else, it was important to you. You took your relationships very seriously, always ensuring that you were not purposely ignoring someone and always attempting to ensure everything went smoothly. You supposed that was why you were a Consular —  you consistently made sure that issues were arbitrated and were more than ready to be the mediator if needed. 

You scrunched your nose, not liking how dismissive he was. You knew that if the roles were reversed, he would be doing the same thing you were attempting. “I’m trying to apologize here,” you argued adamantly, wanting him to understand this was meaningful to you, despite him waving it off as nothing.

Anakin understood why you were being pushy about this, he knew you didn’t enjoy avoiding people, regardless of it being your intent or not. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected you to answer in the first place — he understood that your life was getting hectic now, especially with your trials coming up soon.

 He snickered softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, that was an apology?" He said with a grin as he nudged you playfully. He couldn't resist teasing you, having already forgiven you before you even attempted to make amends with him — despite there not being a reason for you to apologize. 

You nodded, unwilling to give in. “Mhm, I apologized, and now you’re supposed to accept it and forgive me. That’s how this works.”

His eyebrows raised slightly as he shook his head — you could be the most difficult person sometimes. He couldn’t complain about it though, it was one of the qualities he loved most about you and something that drove him to you. “Is that how it's supposed to work? Because it sounds like you're being a bit pushy." He taunted.

You crossed your arms and leaned back on the pillar, investing in the banter. “I’m not being pushy; you’re just not cooperating.” You weren’t truly attempting to force your apology down his throat — you knew there was no need. But you did enjoy this type of conversation with Anakin; it allowed you to detach from the turbulence that was becoming extremely common in your life.

Anakin gave a low chuckle as he looked down at you. “Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are," He teased, leaning closer to you while his mouth curved into a playful smile.

You shrugged, “Once or twice.”

You both knew that you were the most determined person he had ever met, and he adored you for it. Anakin laughed softly before lowering his voice and leaning even closer to you, his sapphire eyes shining in the darkness.

“Let me rephrase that —  do you realize how insanely stubborn you are?"

You scrunched your nose and attempted to hide your growing smile, “So I’ve been told.”

Anakin chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours as he spoke softly, “Mhm, you're a stubborn girl who doesn't easily yield."

You smiled tenderly, loving the closeness between the two of you. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

Anakin's cheeks heated at the proximity, glancing down at you with those twinkling blue eyes that made you want to dive in and be engulfed in him forever. “I actually think it’s quite an endearing trait.” His voice was soft as he spoke in a whisper, as though he was telling you his greatest secret.

You tilted your head up to look into his eyes — you knew you would never be tired of looking into them — they were one of your favorite features of his. They were like a siren’s call, pulling you in until you could no longer have any thoughts that didn’t involve Anakin. Before you got too lost in his eyes you quickly remembered he had spoken to you and murmured back, “Is that so?”

Anakin nodded softly as he smiled at you — his heart raced at your admiring gaze, and he couldn’t help the soft blush that spread across his cheeks. “Oh, most definitely.” His voice was low and gentle as he lowered his head a little closer so that his nose was hovering just above yours.

You leaned up and kissed him tenderly, a reflection of the love you hold for him. His breath hitched at the sudden but pleasant contact of your lips. One of his arms wrapped around your waist while the other found its way to the back of your head as he gently pulled you closer, his lips pressing firmly against yours.

The feeling of your body pressed against his made his heart rate skyrocket as he kissed you back with equal passion and fervor.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. You wanted to be encased in his hold forever — to simply be with him and never have to worry about anything else. The soft proclamations of love that came from both of your lips said everything the kiss did not: how much you ached for each other while he was gone, the unspoken promise of spending as much time as you could before one of you was shipped off onto another mission.

Anakin panted lightly as he pulled away from you — his need for air overcoming the urge to kiss you for all eternity. He slowly brought the hand that was behind your head to cup your cheek, softly caressing your skin with his thumb and looking at you as if you hung the stars. His eyes roamed your face taking in every freckle and scar, wanting to burn you into his memory in hopes that you would haunt his dreams when he was unable to see you physically. 

He dipped his head to quickly kiss you again before gently murmuring, “Let’s get married.” He had fantasized about this for ages now — never having enough courage to reveal his deepest desire to you, but now seemed like a better time than any. 

“What?” You whispered incredulously, not quite believing the words that came out of his mouth.

Anakin laughed softly and lowered his voice, “You heard me. We should get married.”

You moved your hands to his shoulders, lightly gripping them, “Is this your way of proposing to me?”

His eyes twinkled with amusement, his gaze never breaking yours. “Maybe,” His voice was soft and soothing as he lowered his head once more to briefly press his lips against yours. “Yes.”

You thought about it for a moment — secretly dating is one thing, but getting married would mean you were fully going against the Code, something you could never come back from. However, a part of you rationalized that you had already done that, and if you had already broken it, what was the harm in going one step further?

“Okay, let’s get married,” Your face broke out into a grin and you giggled softly, not quite believing this was truly happening, but you wouldn’t oppose it if it meant you were wholly committing to your love for Anakin.

Anakin felt as though his heart would burst out of his chest as a smile spread across his face and his eyes lit up with excitement. His mind was quickly filled with thoughts of being tied to you forever, of never having to worry about losing you to someone else. He couldn’t contain himself and brought his other hand to your face to cup both of your cheeks while he smothered you with kisses all over your face. 

His voice was soft as he pulled back slightly, “You’re completely okay with this?” Despite your agreement, he wanted to ask again to ensure you were completely on board with the idea. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him or say yes just to make him happy, but he wanted to be reassured that you were committed to going through with this.

You nodded and brought your hands up to cover his, unable to contain your smile. “I’m sure. I want to be with you, Ani, forever.”

Anakin laced his fingers with yours and squeezed them gently; a warm, fuzzy feeling spread throughout his body — he was overjoyed with your answer. It was difficult for him to believe how he got so lucky with you; he liked everything about you — your smile, the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself… You were simply perfect in his eyes and he was grateful that you were willing to spend the rest of your life with him.

The thought immediately made his heart sing — he was going to marry you; he would have you all to himself and soon be able to call you ‘his wife.’ “I love you, angel,” He spoke softly, his voice full of love and joy. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and gently kissed where it met your shoulder. 

His actions made your heart melt — you cherished every moment with him. You kissed the side of his head and lifted a hand to cup the back of it while you murmured, “I love you too, Ani.”

A small, content sigh escaped his lips and he squeezed you tighter against him, enjoying your soft, comforting embrace. 

You ran a hand through his hair and whispered, “We should head back to one of our quarters before we’re out here too long.”

Anakin hummed softly in response before lifting his head from your neck and giving you one last kiss. He took your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours as he started to lead you out of the temple’s halls and toward his room. 

You leaned against him and lightly squeezed his hand as he guided you. The walk to his room was filled with silent bliss, and you knew that despite the chaos happening throughout the galaxy, you would always be able to rely on Anakin. 

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Fourth Wing Men HCs: nicknames for him

Includes: Bodhi Durran, Garrick Tavis

A/n: I haven’t wrote some headcannons in a HOT minute, but me and @garricks4thwingqueen have been conspiring and inspired me to take a whack at it again. These got a smidge long, so I will make a part 2 with more characters, and other scenarios, but you know who had to start with! I also included some AI pics I’ve been cooked up that are mashes of my fancasts ideas for the characters. I have the hardest times visualizing a lot of characters and places in stories and sometimes the AIs I’ve seen all look alike or aren’t itching the right part of my brain. Disclaimer: I tried to take into consideration book accuracy, but AI is AI and I only dabble w it on my phone. So I’ll take what I can get. Skin tones, hair, proportions may not be perfect. These just personally help get a better concept, and I find fun to make, and anddd risking forgetting about a free 7 day trail from time to time 🕳️🤸‍♀️ *muah* enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking/smoking (if u squint), suggestive content

Bodhi Durran

Bo/Boh, beau, bowie, Bo Bo, babe, love

Xaden and him are maternal cousins. While the firstborn always had the weight of responsibility growing up being an heir by his parents. The younger cousin was always ‘coddled’ by his. Though he adored his family, he hated how they always doted on him. Mainly because of how much his older cousin and his best friend would tease him about it.

Xaden and Garrick started cooing “Bowie” and “Bo Bo” at him when they were 12, he was 11.

“Bowie, don’t forget to write to me.” “Bowie, be good for your uncle.” “Oh Bo Bo don’t you look so handsome today!” They’d snicker to him under their breaths when he’d arrive at the fortress when his mom would drop him before flying out to an outpost. Watching how his cheeks flushed red, and he had tight balled fists pressed at his sides.

Once the doors closed, after formal introductions with his Uncle and lingering personal staff were done, and once the adults a room away—he would hurl one of his clenched fists at their shoulders.

Starting a playful brawl amongst the three

Spoiler alert: Bo Bo back then lost once or twice…maybe a handful of times

Then as awkward teenagers when problems were simpler the three of the pubescent boys discovered churam and drinking. Bodhi started unironically calling himself Bo Bo and Bowie, mockingly teasing himself as a ‘bit’.

The young men were sat around a fire in the clearing to the outside of Riorson House. Xaden and Garrick in a heated debate over a petty topic. “Bo Bo can’t comprehend what’s going on right now.” He would say, exaggerating and scratching his the top of his head. It had been effective for the most part to ease the tension between his friends

Now from time to time, he’ll still do it especially if you’re present. He always thought you looked cute as you shook your head with a crooked smile spread across your face when he did it

Sometimes fhd guys would find him doing something badass, you’ll hear triumphant whooping from Xaden and Garrick, endearingly using the nicknames they called him as a child

“Go Bowie!” “Bo Bo that was fucking awesome!” “Bowie! Bowie! Bowie!”

But if anyone else besides the select few called him those names, he’d glare daggers at them. Like the time Ridoc tried to call him Bo Bo during lunch while the group was joking around

Bodhi’s boyish grin disappeared instantaneously. “If you ever call me that, I will rip your tongue out.”

The first time he heard you call him Bowie tho, he nearly melted. It was one of the first times you slept over with him and he had to get up early for a leadership meeting

You propped up on elbow, using your other hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Do you have to go, Bowie?” A small pout on your lips watching him get dressed

His other pet names from you were selective, usually just calling him Bo/Boh, but your favorites were Babe and Love

Babe being the one you leaned towards the most

especially when you would catch him doing something ridiculous or he’d press your buttons. Or just when you wanted something

“Babe? Are you kidding me?” “Babe stop!”

“Babe can you get me another drink, please?” You asked, looking up from your lashes with puppy dog eyes. He folded every time no matter if you were closer to the serving station or bar. How could he say no when you gave him that look? Not caring, flipping all his friends off as they’d give him knowing smiles.

He was a simp for you

Love was usually reserved for tender moments with him. When you’d notice he’d be having a bad day, or to calm him down when you’d notice he was fuming silently beside you at something going on

Intertwining your fingers with his giving a reassuring squeeze. “It’s alright, Love.”

Or holding his cheeks, bringing him to eye level with you. “I’m here, Love. Can you take a couple deep breaths for me?”

Sometimes you broke out the corny double entendre of beau. Very select people would get it, but you thought it was great

Mainly you’d be out to the taverns with your friends when you’d use it. Usually when a girl would approach him, and you’d try to hide your jealousy tho it was plain as day

“He’s actually my beau.” You’d say, a sinisterly sweet smile on your face when a girl tried to introduce herself. Your hand twirling the curls at the nape of his neck. Bodhi would always shiver from the gesture, trying to contain his arousal at your possessiveness

Then later in the night, he’d pin you to the wall of his room. Pressing feverish kisses up the column of your throat. “Are you gonna show me all the way I’m your beau?” He muttered before grazing the delicate skin with his teeth

Garrick Tavis

Gare, Tavis, Gary, Gare Bear, Hon/Honey, Sir

His parents tried to call him Gary at one point growing up, but he always ignored them or begged them not to call him that. It always sounded so stupid to him

Garrick was blunt, dry, and straight to the point not caring for nicknames. Only really preferring to be called by his name or Gare on occasion by his friends and acquaintances. His last name an even better alternative than a nickname

But Xaden, Imogen, and Bodhi took a sick pleasure in all the creative corny nicknames his parents would try to make a thing for him growing up.

“I think we oughta get Gary’s input?” Imogen leaned her chin in her hand as they all discussed weekend plans after school looking over at the towering young man. The side of her mouth crookedly lilting upward, knowing she struck a nerve. Garrick could already feel his eye twitch, clenching his quill as he acted like he hadn’t heard them a few feet away at the table in the library.

“It seems Gare Bear’s not in the mood today.” Xaden would casually lean back in his chair, smirking, and watching his best friend stroll into the dining room late for dinner time after a terrible day

Which would result in Garrick walking by, and tipping his chair back causing the Riorson to flail and fall backwards. “Relax asshole,” Xaden hissed, rubbing his head.

To this day they still called him the silly names. Taking immense pride when you had picked up on the memo, and started to call Garrick the names he despised. Especially because you two weren’t each others favorite people at first

The first time it happened, it was when Garrick pissed you off. He had been criticizing all your sparring movements, and you had enough. “Sorry we can’t all be perfect like you, Gare Bear.” You’d sneer, watching the irritation form on his face.

“Do not call me that.” He’d glower, but you’d just smile brightly. “Whatever you say…Gare Bear.”

Seeing how it got under his skin, from that moment on you’d always call him just to pester him. Enjoying the glare he’d shoot your way or awaiting for whatever witty remark he’d reply

Eventually once you two started getting along, you called him his first name, being more considerate towards his feelings. Garrick’s chest filling with disappointment as he awaited the usual Gare Bear falling from your pretty lips.

“Hey Garrick,” it was a rare moment when you found him by himself. None of your mutual friends around for once, and one of the first interactions you had alone. “What?” He looked up from what he doing. “I said hey?” You gave him a weird look. “But you called me Garrick.” He said in disbelief. “That’s your name isn’t it?” “You always call me Gare Bear tho.”

That’s when you realized he secretly liked it despite him trying to act annoyed at you.

Then when you had officially started dating, he had to get used to fact you loved calling him all these terms of endearment. Deep down, loving how you could make him become bashful by your words

“Here you go, Honey.” Leaning down, kissing his cheek, setting down a dish of apple crisp in front of him. You knew how much he liked the dessert and grabbed an extra one when getting your dinner. Garrick’s cheeks tinged red and chuckled appreciatively, “you’re the best.” His friends just silently stared as if you two had three heads. “What’s the matter?” You asked the group unphased, taking a seat. “You broke him.” Imogen replied in awe.

You had changed his perception on being called nicknames. Even letting it slide when his friends poked fun at him with the once despicable nicknames

Out of all the nicknames you called him, his favorite by far was the one you’d use in the bedroom.

“Please,” you begged, while sitting on your knees. “Please what?” Garrick gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You gulped, “please Sir.” A cruel smirk on his face, pressing a small kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

[sanjisblackasswife]

Telling Sanji and Zoro to Go Faster/Deeper(NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Sex, also breaking the bed because that’s my new favorite thing to think about

Ft. Sanji, Zoro (seperate)

Sanji

You’re right in his ear , he has you nearly in a matting press from how deep he was—

“You feel so good! ‘So good!” His voice was so hot and Whiney on your neck drooling from how much he was pumping into you.

But you wanted more. Everything about Sanji in this moment you wanted more of and you usually never had to request what you wanted because Sanji Just knew. He always knew, he knew your body like he knew food.

Maybe something was in the air though because now you can’t get enough

“MORE, SANJI DEEPER!”

He never heard you ever ask for him to adjust anything he’s doing so his hips stuttered a bit as your request.

However you may or may not have activated something new in this man from your begs and cries for him.

“PLEASE FAST—AH!”

Your needy blonde waisted no time quickening his pace, your breath was knocked out of you from each thrust, your breasts were barely contained from his hips snapping back at you with force it all was too good. He rose up to get a good steady hold of your ankles, decorated with the golden jewlery with his name on it, your toes curled with impatience to feel more speed, and he gave you just that.

“Just. Like. This? Ah-sweetheart!?”

You felt the headboard bang with vigor on the wall, you seen stars trying to look through you blurred vision of tears, Sanji was just too good at making you feel what you needed to feel.

He knew if he pushed your legs behind your head he could get hit a spot that would send you over the edge and so he held your thighs down so he could make you take all that he had,

And feel how deeper he was.

“Oh my fuck—!” You whined out but it was muffled by Sanji’s lips meeting yours, he licked and sucked on your tongue, your felt his damp wavy hair rub against your cheek, trying so hard to get eye contact with him, but with each thrust you couldn’t help but to shut your eyes tightly.

“You’re so beautiful…fuck you make me feel so good baby..”

Your inner thighs were slapping so harshly against his , bouncing off the wooden walls of your room you couldn’t help but to ignore the worn bed frame below you.

“FUCK!” Sanji groaned snapping his hips one last time before the end of the bed slammed to the floor. He should have known he wasn’t just hearing things. But fuck it, he thought. His princess was looking too pretty all worn out and panting with your arm covering your face, not even caring the broken bed .

Once you both were done, it was probably the first time Sanji ever put you to sleep RIGHT after sex which boosted his ego just a bit.

He’d have to do more of that again

Zoro

That’s a dangerous game.

Zoro knew his strength so it didn’t bother him to have to hold back when he is on top of you, tonight though he felt very lazy to do most of the work, he was laying on his back watching you fuck yourself on his cock. His right hand would roam all over your body, stopping at your jiggling breast to squeeze them so firmly, thumb pressing on your stiff nipple.

“Getting tired?”

“N-no.” You halted your movement to breathe. You were tired and just wanted Zoro to take you himself, but you knew how tired your big boy was and your selfish needy ass he told you to fuck yourself on his cock if you wanted to cum. His cocky smirk slowly turned into a small frown, his eyebrows furrowed scanning your face before looking down at your dripping cunt.

His hand glided to your breast, his middle finger leaving a trail against your skin to give a firm squeeze making you gasp. Zoro used the opportunity to rise up and kiss you, his tongue not missing a beat in flicking and wrapping around yours.

Your body began to move on its own earning a curl of a lip from your greenhaired boyfriend. Thats when he pulled away to grip your hips to pump up inside you.

“Zo!” You nearly could have loss balance if his hands werent keeping u steady, his hips bucking inside you until your mouth agaped and your toes curling slightly, “F-faster!”

It wasn’t Something you usually request, its always “slow down” or “wait wait” but who was zoro to deny such a request?

But he needed a better position.

“So fucking pretty.” He huffed holding your arms down cris crossed on your tummy, legs over his shoulder, and eyes rolled back you felt all of him, “You always get like this, too fucking lazy to do anything huh? Need me to take care of everything for you, my pretty Pillow Princess.”

As much as you wanted to argue back the only words that were exchanged were “FASTER!”

And faster he went until you felt the bed shift. You and Zoro both paused at the sudden dip in the middle of the bed, staring at each other blankly partially out of breath zoro chuckles

“Still want me to go faster?…because i can keep fucking you into this broken bed…”

[onlyangellucifer]

I LOVE YOU, ITS RUINING MY LIFE

PLOT:

It’s the biggest trial of the year and the whole world is watching. Stakes are higher and tension is higher. Little do they know, the prosecutor and defence attorney are in love.

OR

Harry is a popular defense attorney in London & Y/N is a popular prosecutor. Both are known for rarely losing & now they’ve found themselves in a pickle.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

WARNINGS:

Mentions of murder, blood, and the likes (nothing too graphic), smut (in the future), angst, fluff, etc. will add more if any others pop up!

AUTHORS NOTE:

Hello!! Ive been MIA, sorry. However, ive come bearing gifts! Below the cut is a sneak peak at this new short series (no more than 6 parts atm). Im working on the other series’ too, sorry for the delay. Hope you can forgive me. Anyways i hope u enjoy defense attorney!Harry 🫶🏼 the preview also isnt proof read, so excuse any typos. Meaning things WILL be changed / could be changed & moved around! Not sure of word count, but cant be more than 1500. Its short.

London hasnt seen a case this high profile since the case of Harold Shipman, who killed up to 250 victims. Many feared this may be another case of Jack The Ripper, as they double checked their doors at night, hoping the serial killer wasn’t going to show up at their door. The relief that washed over the town when the police had finally caught the man whom they think is responsible for the latest killings of 20 men and women. The scenes were too graphic to show on tv.

Y/N ended up with the case. The crime scene photos were unnerving to her and interviewing the victims families made it even worse. Bile creeping up throat as she read the horrific things that happened to each victim. She wanted to know this case by the back of her hand, because of course she was up against one of the top defense attorneys in the country. He rather lost and found plot holes in every single case, having a 97% success rate with getting his clients off the hook and their record clear. She thought noone would pick up the mans case, there was so much evidence that pointed towards the man.

Harry was attractive, tall, dark hair and those piercing greenish hazel eyes. Y/N was nervous and she hated being that way. Harry often came by the law firm, having connections with anyone and everyone. His career was unmatched, he was handsome, wealthy, the whole package. Yet he was single and that blew Y/N’s mind.

Harry was just as shocked as Y/N to learn they’d facing each other in court. He was certain his client did it, but, he had to defend him anyways. He was called by the court to do it pro bono, as noone else wanted to take the case. If he lost, his numbers would certainly be impacted. If he won, people may look at him differently in a moral sense. Surely though there was a plot hole and the prosecution would slip up. He couldnt believe it was Y/N who got the case. Soft, shy, gorgeous Y/N. He already developed this small crush on her and now he had to take her on in court? Surely this wasnt a good thing. It had to be God punishing him for helping criminals and making a good living while doing so. Harry always viewed her as the more submissive type and his dirty thoughts were hard to keep at bay. Maybe that was the reason God was punishing him.

While Harry laid awake, staring at the ceiling, Y/N was doing the same. Y/N had never seen Harry in action, but, she’s heard how he’s always been strict and concise in the court room. His dominant side coming out, and that scared Y/N. Especially because she imagined him being dominant somewhere else, mainly at night when she lay in bed alone with her thoughts and hands.

[snowblossomreads]

Day 4: Sharing

Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem!Reader

Summary: In where Severus is reminded that it's almost the first Christmas he and [Y/n] will be sharing and he goes to try and make it special

Tag(s)/Warning(s): fluff fluff and more fluff

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: And in something totally different once again! Here is a short little fluffy fluff about Snape and his almost first Christmas with his beloved [Y/n]. (See @deepperplexity i do know how to use the prompts in non unhinged ways are u proud of me 🤣🤣?)

The streets of Hogsmeade was filled with the bustling crowds of witches and wizards doing their holiday shopping as Christmas rapidly approached meaning that people were in a tizzy trying to purchase gifts for their loved ones.

And of course a treat for themselves.

Cheer and glee were on the faces of almost all of those who were bustling about spreading warmth in the cold air with just their attitude. All except one person named Severus Snape, who seemed to have had enough of people bumping into him as he tried to maneuver his way as swiftly as possible away from the crowd.

He should have known when he went out looking for a present for [Y/n] that he would face the tiring challenge of people. Yet he had been so caught up with preparing for the coming semester and his own experimentations that he had lost tracked of time.

And when she had brightly told him that she was excited that they would be sharing their first Christmas together in only a few days he realized he had proverbially dropped the ball.

On the outside he was his calm and collected self, agreeing with her as he was truly looking forward to sharing the holiday with someone other than himself. There was a small part of him that hated to admit that it in the past it was a bit lonely seeing all the people merrily celebrating.

Even when the Hogwarts staff tried to romp him in to their holiday shenanigans he was quick to get away not at all wanting to be invested in whatever they were up to. It was a way of punishing himself, as someone like him didn't deserve to have fun. Didn't deserve to have happy things because of what he had done and what he had caused.

[Y/n] though was having none of it when she came into his life. And he was grateful for it.

But he digressed.

That was on the outside, calm and collected as he usually seemed now and days. On the inside though he was quickly listing the things that he knew she adored and began to make a plan.

Oh yes, he would do his best to make sure the first Christmas they spent together was as lovely as his [Y/n].

First was to her favorite bakery where he was unsurprisingly met with a large line of people queuing up and waiting for their turn as it seemed that everyone had the idea to come at the same time.

An annoyance absolutely, but at least no one dared to talk to him while they were in line as he glared at anyone who seemed to want to make conversation. 20 minutes had passed and he had secured her favourite treats which included some pumpkin pasties that had extra holiday flavour in them as he had been told.

He had no idea what that meant.

A few cinnamon rolls that were topped with an abundance of sweet cream and a few more savory mini pastries that he knew she fancied.

Next was a trinket store, that she always gazed at when they walked passed though she never went in, only saying she didn't need more knick nacks laying around.

Well it was Christmas and what was wrong with a few more especially if the were useful and brought her joy.

So he went in expecting to find nothing yet he ended up coming out with a set of colour changing ink and quill, a trinket box for her little collection of rings and earrings in that played music while opened and also could sort the items for her. That aspect he found interesting thinking about what charm was placed on it to get it to do so.

And also he may have bought some dusty looking spellbook that he had never seen before which intrigued him along with self labeling potion bottle that showed what ingredients were in it.

Huh who knew that shop had so many things.

Pleased with his purchases he barreled his way through the crowd ready to finally be at home exhausted from all the pushy witches and wizard. Walking quickly to an alley way off the beaten streets of the village he took inventory of what he had making sure nothing was crushed or missing. Once he made sure everything was where he wanted, he apparated silently back home where [Y/n] was sitting in his wingback chair reading.

Well, that was until he suddenly apparated into the middle of the sitting room.

"Severus Snape! Merlin's beard!" she shrieked almost tumbling out of the chair being startled half to death by him. "I thought you told me no one can apparate in and out of the house? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

His lips turned upward in a smirk at her words as he watched her get up from her seat and stalk up to him with a small pout.

"Hm yes I do remember telling you that," he answered matter of factly, leaning down and brushing his lips against her forehead causing her to grumble, "though I may have left off that I'm the exception. I did live here for years after all."

Pressing his lips against her forehead in a chaste kiss, he moved down and kissed her nose, before hovering over her lips waiting for her to move.

"You're the worse you know that," she mumbled shaking her head before closing the distance and kissing him showing him that she wasn't angry just startled.

"Mhm."

He kissed her softly before moving to her cheek and kissing her there making her giggle as he pulled away.

"Your lips are so cold darling here go put all those bags away," she started pausing only when she saw the amount of bags and being yet again surprised. He said he was going out potion ingredient shopping and from the looks of it he had bought the whole stock of them. "And I'm sure it'll take you a while Severus did you go on a shopping spree without me?! Oh never mind I'll make us some tea it should be done by the time you've sorted it all out!"

Without another word she was off leaving Severus with a pile of bags not even suspecting that most of the things were for her.

When she had come back out of the kitchen tea floating behind her she was surprised once more when she found a plate full of her favorite snacks sitting on the little table in between her chair and Severus'.

He had paid her no mind when she had come back, acting as if he was reading the new book her had purchased yet he was keenly aware of her presences. It was only when she had sat the tea down did she take a look at all the snacks that were waiting for them.

"Severus?" His name came out shyly as she wandered to his side making him put his book down and turn to look at her.

"Did you buy all of those for me?"

Her eyes twinkled in the warmly lit room and he nodded.

"Mhm I passed by the bakery you always go to and decided to stop by," he answered coolly as if he hadn't been squished in the shop when he got in. "Hopefully this is a good festive start to our almost first Christmas together?"

Grinning at him, [Y/n] leaned over the arm of his chair to plant a kiss on his cheek overwhelmed with excitement as she skipped over to her own seat. Plopping down she poured them both some tea and happily partook in one of the pasties groaning happily at spiced pumpkin filling.

"It's an excellent start darling," she beamed. "Thank you!"

A rare smile, well not so rare for her, appeared on Severus' lips at how happy she looked as she bit into the treat and he felt as happy as she looked at the thought of the cheer to come. It was nice to share such a time with her thought before going back to his book and relaxing in the ambience of the warm room and his warm love.

A/N: see i am capable of using the prompts normally! see you guys on day 7 prompts! (she's taking a little break to avoid writing angst 😌)

[poppurini]

zip up the jacket, it’s cold

leona & f!reader, reader depicted as shorter than him

oh my god leona. leona? bro leona. have u seen leona? YOOO leona. dude leona. leona leona leona.

“You did really well just now, Leona!” and the man couldn’t help but silently swoon at the obvious admiration and adoration for him in your eyes. For him, and him alone. The captain of NRC’s spelldrive team breathes out a chuckle. “Just really well?”

Halting your steps, you did a sharp turn to face him. “And you looked really cool!” Obviously singing corny praises but does he care at the moment? Obviously not. Mhm, that’s what he wanted to hear from his herbivore. He gave you a hum of satisfaction that prompted a cheeky smile from your own lips as well before you started marching towards the stalls again, talking about the trending snacks Cater recommended you to try.

Your little journey was interrupted when a hand much larger than yours engulf your own and gently pulled you backwards, the little stumble making you press into his chest, all of that combined to make you let out an awkward, surprised sound as you try your best to stand back tall.

It is a fairly new relationship, after all. Skinship isn’t an exactly common interaction between you two yet. You are also in the arms of the man you thought was pointless to try and get attention from just a few months ago. I’d say it’s a valid reaction to feel like the bones from your legs disappeared.

“Haha yeah, uh, what is it?” Feigning composure, you laughed awkwardly at your boyfriend—wow, boyfriend. You didn’t think you’d ever have a chance to call him that—making the corner of his lips quirk up in amusement. “Aren’t you cold?” a murmur while he busies himself with adjusting the oversized item on you. It’s his sport jacket that he put on you just minutes ago because apparently his little girlfriend thought she could handle the cold as winter approaches. “It’s warmer when ya zip it up.”

Dragging out a whine representing your dismay, you raised your arms up and shook the flappy sleeves too long for you. “It’s cuter like this.” He guess it is cute, watching you do a little twirl in his clothing.

“Cute, but ’m not gonna babysit a sick Y/N.” With that said, Leona made you stand still and attached the end of the zipper together, pulling it up all the way to the top, enough to cover your lips. Somehow you have a feeling you looked like a penguin. “Cuter like this.”

You have no arguments. No resolve in you to fight back nor unzip the jacket. All you managed to do was look up at him stunned and flustered. You may try to hide it, but you’re gulping and averting your gaze after a few seconds and feeling hot at the damage he has done. Felt like your feelings for him is just slowly increasing by the minute.

While you’re still wallowing in euphoria, Leona has already turned you back on track by the shoulders before one hand slid down to your waist, rubbing them slowly with his thumb while pulling you closer and you wanted to scream right there and then due to the intimacy. All your thoughts and feelings unorganised resulting in mindless babbles and fake coughs. “We- yes, I- right. That way.”

Unsurprisingly, Leona wanted more from you. So, like the bastard he is, he leaned down close enough to murmur in your ear. “Hm? Didn’t quite catch ya.” He lets out a hearty laugh at your small flinch before— hey, oi, you’re fainting!?

[river13245]

Your recent piece with daryl x FTM reader made me so happy :,) I don’t see much of that content! When you have the time if you’d be able to write something along the lines of him dating a FTM reader & wanting to show him off/show how much he loves him.

Thank u :3!

Dating Daryl Dixon (FTM reader)

Now this completely depends on if Mearl is alive when you meet. If Mearl is alive during this time. Mearl will make a comment at your body. If you do have top surgery he will make a comment about your thighs and if you don't then about your boobs. He will find something. That's just who he is. Which will cause Daryl to tell him to shut up.

If Mearl is dead at this time he would probably meet you at Alexandria or our hunting. Either way I don't think Daryl would even look at your body in that way. He will ask who you were and then so forth.

During your time dating he would notice things. Daryl is very observant so he would notice things like how you would avoid being physically close with him. Not that my man is very physical in that aspect but he notices.

He wouldn't ask questions until one night he does. Making sure you both were alone during this time. This would be the night when you open up to him about being trans. He would be accepting of course he wouldn't be the type to judge. Just would ask a few questions cause he hadn't been around Trans people before. He would just want a better understanding so he wouldn't do anything wrong.

Many people in the town knew of course. So sometimes there would be some people who would find our and be homophobic. Daryl would be by your side instantly and even though you could take care of yourself perfectly fine. He would be the one to throw a punch if the person said something bad and didn't know personal space.

Daryl would not initiate anything so you would have to be the one to do so. If you were wanting sex you would have to tell him that it was okay to touch you and so forth. Of course when you gave him the green light he wasn't so hesitant any longer.

He would be so in love with you and he may not be super good with words. Daryl showed his love in other ways. Acts of service and gift giving was big for him. He would give you a good portion of food before getting himself any. Sometimes you would split some of your food cause he always gave himself so little and you so much. Then when you both were away from each other you both would come back with small gifts for the other.

For physical touch he would hold your hand. Kissing in private just sticking to hand holding in public. However sometimes during small gatherings you would kiss his cheek and his ears and cheeks would turn the faintest tinge of pink. Which causes Caryl to tease him and for him to roll his eyes and mumble.

Some people would question why you were with him. They didn't see what you seen in Daryl so you would be quick to defend him. They didn't need to understand or feel the way you felt about him. Its not their job to. They just needed to accept the fact that you are with him and they will be seeing the both of you two together.

Some also didn't understand why he was with you and he wouldn't get into a big argument or a big speech. Would usually just tell them to shut the hell up and walk off. Or when they would pester him he would say that he's in love with you and if they couldn't accept that then to stay out of your guy's way.

When Daryl would compliment you. He would not make many comments on your body. He would just say that you were handsome or say your eyes were pretty. However when he did compliment your body he would more so just look you over and say that you were so handsome.

In fact if you didn't have top surgery and you binded your chest. He would always remind you to take it off when you needed too. If you were hunting together he would stop everything he was doing and make you take if off right there while he turned around. Or if you were with people he would either give you a look or tap your back and you would excuse yourself and put on one of his hoodies that he had but never wore.

When you needed more bandages or wraps for your chest he would always be on the look out for more on his trips. This is the apocalypses of course these things wouldn't just be easy access so sometimes you wouldn't be able too. But As soon as Daryl came back with bandages and wraps he would give the extra to you.

On the days you were having a very bad self image day he would wrap his arms around you and pull you into a hug. Its a very firm hug. Then when the both of you would pull away he would take you hunting. Even letting you use his cross bow just to distract you. Let me tell you that he never lets anyone use that thing. Then after he would take you on a motorcycle ride.

All in all Daryl is such a good partner and you are a good one for him too. 10/10

[fan-goddess]

Hey you! Can I request Aemond falling for a Princess who is generally more dark, sarcastic, maybe she has war experience and is imterested in occult stuff? Thx of you do this !!Love u

Author Note: Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy it as that I do it justice! After writing I don’t think I went less dark and more sarcastic and only cheerful with Aemond. Hope this is alright though still!

If anyone else has any requests please don’t hesitate to ask :)

Here is my masterlist where you’ll find other requests I’ve answered and my other content

Warnings: no nsfw, fluff, no real pronouns nor any real physical features are mentioned though it is implied the reader is a girl

—————

When Aemond first heard from his grandsire that he was to marry you, he assumed he had heard incorrectly. You were well know in kingslanding for being… unique.

For one, you did not dress like any woman he’d ever seen before. You dressed like a boy. When your father brought you to court one day when the both of you were two and ten, his eye nearly fell from his head when he saw you hanging round with Helaena under the tree in the courtyard.

You wore a dark vest top and darker bottoms. It was only when he saw the more feminine features that graced your face till he realised you were in fact even possibly a lady. Maybe even a pretty one at that…

“What are you staring at princeling?” You shouted at him when you saw him. You had no regard for what may occur with your talk. You truly seemed to be fearless. “You never seen a girl or something?”

Even the way you spoke drew him in to you. You didn’t speak like the women at the court, who all giggled and talked only of needlepoint and their husbands latest triumph. It was all the same recycled rubbish according to Helaena. You instead talked of the wars your lands faced and the training your father allows you to wholeheartedly pursue. He’d seen the scars that graced your body. There were small ones that were mainly etched on your arms, though he’d also seen one that peaked from the back of the shirt you wore for when you joined him and ser Criston for training.

He missed you only a little when you left to go back to your kingdom. Something about them needing you for another war that was starting up. All he knew was that you and your father left in the middle of the night never to be really heard from again.

The next time though he even heard of you was when his betrothal was announced. His mother gave him a sympathetic look as his grandsire announced it at supper for his eight and tenth, Aegon simply raised a cup of some unknown alcohol and said, “Maybe you’ll now learn how it is to feel a woman before the princess cuts your cock off for a spell at least!”

His mother quickly dismissed Aegons jest, though even she couldn’t deny one of the rumours that surrounded you. How you dabbled and experimented with something dark and dangerous.

No one knew what it exactly was you did. The rumour only talked of some language being painted onto your skin before battle in charcoal. A mystery language none could understand excerpt for yourself.

When he saw you next though. That was what did it for him. You still dressed the same. Though this time it held much more armour themed clothing. That and it seemed to be tailored to fit you perfectly. Your now painfully obvious womanly figure showed him just how much you physically matured in the years you left. Though it seemed you didn’t mentally mature as he had hoped.

“Hello again princeling!” You said with a smirk as you sat next to him. He does not respond to you. Hoping maybe you’ll get bored of him and leave him be. “That’s awfully rude of you my dear princeling! And to think I thought this would be a love marriage!”

WHAT?!? His eye widens in your direction by pure instinct. His shock not as well hidden as he’d have hoped. Though as he looks at you in shock his gaze softens at the sight of your face.

It seems since your involvement of the war, which he has been told has been stopped and conquered, has given you more scars that litter your body. There is one more prominent that sticks out to him. It’s on your forehead and looks to be deep. By the looks of it it was cut by a sword. It’s ugly yes, but the smirk you give him makes it so he doesn’t immediately move his eyes to it.

He’s about to comment on it, when a Lannister he does not remember the name of comes over with a goblet of no doubt wine in hand. He can see the frown that takes over your face from the corner of his eye. “My princess! My how much you’ve grown! When I last saw you I swear you had the figure of a boy! At least now I can tell what it is you are!” The man grins, unashamedly looking at your figure.

Aemond nearly lunges at the man there and then. How dare he make such crued and inappropriate comments to his betrothed?!? He’s about to say something so he doesn’t in fact lunge at him, but it seems you beat him too it. “I don’t think my figure should be what worries you Lord Lannister. Maybe you should be more focusing on, what is it your third wife now whose died? People may start to believe your cursed… or possibly that you killed them yourself in your unquenchable desire for a son…?”

Aemond lets out a laugh before he can stop himself. It seems you also know of the rumours of your, dabbling. Though unlike most ladies who fear for the rumours that may spread, you embrace it. It seems Lord Lannister does not share his enjoyment of your wit, as he leaves near as soon as he arrived practically with his tail between his legs like a dog.

“I’m not a sorceress you know little Princeling.” You say as you turn to him. “We do not have the same religions you have here. I follow a certain path that involves symbols called runes that help protect me in battle. That’s what the whole rumour was about.”

“I do not care about the rumours that surround you Princess.” He says. It’s a damn lie. He’s been eager about any rumour about you since you’ve left the castle. “We are to be wed either way.”

“Liar” You smile. It’s so wicked how you smile. You’ve been in war. You’ve been down right mocked for how you’ve been brought up and yet you still give him a smile that makes his insides feel like he’s flying on Vhagar for the first time all over again.

After the announcement ball of your betrothal, he has been seeing you much more than he ever did as a child. You join him for his training sessions with Ser Criston, just as how you did as a child. Only this time you fight him directly and manage to knock him on his arse. A feat he finds himself strangely happy with.

You even bring out a hand for him to take in a goodwill gesture. He finds himself admiring the feel of your hands on his. They have callouses, he can feel. He can also feel a scar on you inner palm. Possibly from holding a sword by then blade. Though as soon as he realises he’s holding it for too long he drops it. He even realises that he likes fighting with you almost too much when you hold him down with all your weight like you’ve been taught to do.

He feels his heart is about to burst from his chest and he hates it. Yet even after that discovery, he still insists on himself enjoying your company.

He finds you to be annoyingly informative. You join him sometimes for his reading sessions in the library, and insist on telling him to gruesome ventures of you in the war.

While he was attempting to read about Visenya and Vhagar, all he could hear was you telling him the tale on how you had to saw of a man’s arm to stop an infection from spreading any further. It annoys himself even more when he goes out of his way to engage these tales from you, asking about the infection and what is was, abandoning the book to the side.

Aemond finds himself near abandoning the books altogether and instead discusses these usually disbanded topics of conversation in full detail with you. Maybe he likes how passionate you get when you insist on telling him your your gory stories from war, your hands making small gestures when you get to a personal favourite parts and sometimes even putting on ridiculous voices for the men in the stories. He hates how he always ends up unconsciously smiling by the end of them and you always smile back at him.

He also hates how well the meeting of you and Vhagar went. All you could do since he once, and only once, mentioned about the possibility of you meeting Vhagar. Ever since then you’ve been non stop threatening him to take you to Vhagar and meet the queen of the dragons. You threatened to take out his eye, you threatened to poison his wine, you even threatened to set fire to the library leaving nothing but dreary poetry you knew he hated.

Oh how he despised you. Oh how he cared for you. Oh how he hated how he smiled so widely when he gave in after the threat of his books. You caressed Vhagar like you would a cat, and he nearly burst a blood vessel when Vhagar began to purr. What in the seven were you doing to his dragon?!? All you were doing was caressing Vhagar with your calloused yet somehow soft hands and whispering to her your favourite war stories… he was definitely not jealous!

Aemond learnt over the next few days he was in fact jealous.

All you could do was bother him to see Vhagar again. You didn’t ask to see him with the same intensity you asked to see Vhagar…

His denial knew no bounds as he denied why you seemed to make his heart race so much. Or why it seemed only you could make him smile so naturally.

Maybe it was only until he married you in the way of his ancestors, when he could whole heartedly say he loved you as he showed his full self to you. Sapphire eye and all.