#i never really draw eyelashes either

[gtgbabie0]

{Vi can’t sleep so you bring her back to bed}

I want to put her in my pocket <3

Vi used to be a really light sleeper before she met you. The tiniest of creaks or the slightest movements would make her jolt out of dreamland— the joys of spending years in prison she supposes. Being forced to constantly watch your back just in case. Everything was a threat in there, the inmates, the guards. It was literally hell on earth.

Nights were better with you. Sleeping by your side with her head nestled either on your tummy or in the crook of your neck. Oh, sleep had never been so easy, you were warm and so very soft. Your breathing lulled her and the safety of your embrace was a balm to her soul. As long as you were with her, then she would be fine.

Tonight was just a bad night. Violet had spent a good five minutes tossing and turning, at the very cusp of sleep but never finding that peace. It was pissing her off, so with a kiss to your bare shoulder she slips out of bed as carefully as possible and down to the garage to work on her gauntlets— the right one had been broken for weeks.

That’d been what?— her eyes flit up to the clock on the shelf above her workstation, 3:05 AM taunting her in bright red LED lights. She groans, rolling her head from side to side. Almost two whole hours and she’s gotten nowhere, so much for the groundbreaking works of Hextech… yeah that was definitely to blame not the fact that her eyes were burning, her body screaming at her to rest.

“Fucking piece of—” she cuts herself off from her frustrated ramblings with a groan, throwing the screwdriver onto the table, the jarring clang of metal against metal only drives to annoy her more.

She was far too in her own head to even notice the door opening and closing behind her— it’s only when she feels the warmth of your palm against her shoulder does she snap into reality, flinching slightly at the unexpected touch.

“Shit, baby. Scared the crap out of me.” her tone instantly softens within seconds, big hand resting over the top of yours.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You whisper, yawning mid-sentence.

God, she’s instantly hit with an overwhelming wave of guilt the moment her blue eyes meet your oh-so-sleepy ones— your voice still gruff having been woken up by presumably her, which doesn’t make her feel any better.

“Don’t be silly, it’s fine.” Violet chuckles, turning around on the stool she was perched on, making space for you to stand in between her legs— her hands resting over your hips.

“You look like you’re about to fall over,” yeah, she feels it too. Even more so when you brush the pad of your thumb just under her eye— along the small ‘VI’ tattoo on her cheek, the warmth of your soft palm making her sigh. “What’re you doing up, baby?”

“Mmm, can't sleep.” She replies almost sheepishly, strong arms snaking around your waist to draw your body closer to her— head snugly resting against your chest, nuzzling into the fabric of her hoodie you’re wearing. Oh isn’t that a sight for sore eyes?

“Why’s that huh?” You ask, pressing a delicate kiss to her hairline, black clinging to the red tresses that had begun to fade- it oddly suited her.

She doesn’t answer your question, she’s never been the best at speaking on her feelings— so she pulls back, fingers tugging on the end of the hoodie with a smirk. “You look good in this,” you roll your eyes, not having any of it.

“I know I do. Tell me what’s keeping you up?” Vi scoffs in amusement, brows raising, her blue eyes flickering up to you in slight surprise- although she shouldn't be, she knows that you see right through her.

She dips her hands beneath the hoodie to caress the bare skin of your waist ever so gently, rough fingertips skimming along your curves. “Nothing particular— m’just restless tonight, I guess.” Her face softens as she speaks, “Can’t shut my mind off.” She looked so pitiful in this light, lips slightly pursed, looking up at you through her eyelashes.

She thought she might’ve gotten used to this— the way you care for her so intently after so long but at last here she was practically on the verge of tears as you brush your fingers through her hair, hugging her against your chest. God, she felt so pathetic, she’d blame it on the exhaustion.

“You should’ve woken me up.” You whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

At that she chuckles, shaking her head. “You would’ve gotten all grumpy with me if I woke you up at three in the morning babe.”

“I would not have gotten ‘all grumpy’ at you.” You huff, slightly offended.

Vi barks a laugh. “Yeah, you definitely would have. The last time I woke you up you nearly took my head off.” You didn’t have to see her to know she was smirking— ah she knew you like the back of her damn hand, so infuriating.

“Because you woke me up at two to tell me a joke, that wasn’t even funny.” Well, now that was just mean! She pokes your tummy in retaliation, making you squirm slightly with a yelp.

Your hands swat at hers, shooing them away. “Was hilarious,” she yawns against you, face pressed into you. “You just don’t appreciate my comedic brilliance.”

“Comedic nightmare more like.” She pinches your side once more, toned arms tugging you down to take a seat on her thigh using the opportunity to nose at your jaw. “Meanie,” her words muffled against your cheek.

“Mhm, m'just playing. Now, come to bed before you crash face-first into the table.” You whisper, kissing over her cheek and just above that tiny scar on her brow— thumb brushing along her jaw.

Violet knows she can’t keep herself up any longer than she already has, even if the thought of sleeping feels a little daunting right now. Her arms tighten around you the tiniest bit, sighing in contentment as your fingers massage the nape of her neck in a way that turns her into a puddle— yeah okay, maybe sleep wasn’t the worst thing if you kept touching her like that.

“Only if you keep doing that,” she murmurs to which you hum in agreement, biting back a giggle as she all but groans against your shoulder.

“M’Kay, c’mon then.” Then she’s hauling you up bridal style, enjoying the way you cling to her like a scared kitten as she walks up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. Violet finds sleep sooner than she thought, the magic touch of your hands— paired with those gentle kisses you shower her face with has her snoring into your neck in record time, her thigh draped over your hips effectively trapping you against the bed. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[revelboo]

The dynamic between Reader and Megatron in Everything Is Alright is so delicious

Help Reader either way when they do finally meet carnally

I can see Megatron either being firm and dominant but not mean when he finally gets his chance

Or him melting at the touch of you and making love so sweetly and intimately

Either way he folds immediately when Reader advances their relationship 😜

He’s already lost this war, he just doesn’t realize it yet

Everything Is Alright Pt 142

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Letting himself into his habsuite, he hesitates before securing the door and heading for your tiny habitat. Kneeling he lets you slide out of his hand onto the second floor of the structure near the food prep area Swindle had acquired for him. And you glance up at him, expression unreadable before wandering deeper inside and he loses sight of you. Swindle had assured him that he’d found everything a human home should have. Everything you need. Venting softly, he glances at his closed door then at where you’d disappeared from sight.

• There’s a kitchen in here. With a fridge and appliances and a discordant bad feeling lifts through you as you reach out to touch what appears to be a kid’s drawing of a horse. Opening the fridge door, you see it’s full of food. And a half empty gallon of milk, a mostly empty bottle of ketchup, and a fast food container. This was someone’s. Heart racing, you shiver. “Did you hurt anyone when you stole this stuff?” Hoping no one was home and that they had really good insurance, because you doubt whoever he’d sent to fetch this stuff had mass shifted to get it. Most likely, they’d just ripped a wall off a house to get to the stuff inside.

• Mass shifting, he steps into the little habitat, heading up the stairs where he’d set you. And you’re standing in front of a rectangular storage device, holding a bit of paper. Doesn’t need to see your face to know you’re upset, it’s too obvious from your tone as he comes up behind you. Hates mass shifting, being so small and vulnerable. Aware that you’re still so much smaller than he is. “Swindle acquired it. I don’t know,” he admits and you spin, hip bumping against the counter. Startled to find him right behind you.

• How the heck can they move so quietly when they want to? Heart racing as he steps closer so your butt is against the counter, neck craning to watch his expression when he catches your wrist and lifts your arm. Studying the drawing in your hand and far too close to you. And you realize his servos overlap wrapped around your wrist, driving home how big he still is. “I don’t want you hurting someone else to get things for me,” you manage and those optics slide from the kid’s drawing to your face. This close, he looks so tired. Fingers itching to reach up and run your thumb under his optic and you shove the urge down. Because even if you’re bound to him, been in his memories, he’s still mostly a stranger to you.

• Those eyes. There are flecks of color in them he’s never noticed before. Close enough he can pick out individual stands of your hair, eyelashes, and he reaches with his free hand, servos tunneling into the softness of your hair. And your lips part. “Don’t mistake me, pet. I’ll do whatever I must to keep you alive,” he says, stepping closer so you’re caged against the counter by him. So he can feel your softness, your warmth against him. Won’t lie to you, won’t pretend to be tame for you. To be good. Because he’s not, isn’t even sure he can be anymore.

• His servos are in your hair, tipping your face up when he cups the back of your head and he’s pressed intimately against you. There’s a challenge in his optics, a hunger there and you know you should back down. Because he’s trying to provoke you. “You won’t hurt someone for my sake,” you counter and he growls, the low, rumbling sound humming through you to leave you breathless. Reminding you that this dangerous mech, the feared warlord, he’s yours. “I’d rather starve.”

• Head lowering, one corner of his mouth twitches at the challenge in your eyes. That defiance running like liquid fire through his lines straight to his spike. Has no idea if Swindle hurt anyone stealing these things for you, but he’d told the mech to be discreet, so must likely the dwelling was empty. But then, those humans are nothing to him. Insignificant insects. You’re the only one that matters. Lips almost brushing against yours, he vents. “You think I’d allow that, pet?”

• Hating yourself as your body heats and responds to him, to his deep voice. Wanting to close the distance and kiss him. Maybe bite his bottom lip for being a jerk. “I’m not yours,” you counter, knowing how big a lie it is. That you’re bonded to him for life, that you’re never escaping him. Taunting him with the fact that he’s not claimed all of you. Trying to provoke him, knowing the consequences. Wanting him. And he slowly smiles, expression almost predatory. Tensing when someone starts banging on the door and his face blanks, settling into that arrogant mask again.

• Almost falling inside when Megatron remotely opens the door, Starscream’s wings flick when he doesn’t see the warlord or you. Shutting the door behind him, he bends to look into the little habitat. And grits his denta to find Megatron glaring at him, pinning you to a counter. Mass shifting, he flits up into the miniature dwelling. Watching Megatron slide his hand down your spine, before tugging you to him and spinning you so your back is to his chassis and you drop a bit of paper you’d been clutching. One hand wrapped around your wrist as Megatron splays his other hand possessively on your lower belly. “Starscream,” Megatron growls. “This better be good. I’m busy.”

• Optics narrowing as he lowers his head to mouth at your throat, Megatron vents as Starscream’s wings flare. The Seeker’s expression sullen as he looks from you to him. Obviously hating his hands on you and wanting to rescue you, but not nearly as brave face to face with him. Making him want to provoke Starscream. To push harder and punish him for his hesitation. “I’m sure you have things to attend to,” the Seeker mutters, voice a low, angry rasp. And he slides his hand lower, servos teasing the waist of your coverings. Threatening to dip underneath and you grab his wrist with your free hand, but don’t try to stop him. “I can take our mate off your hands.”

• Poor Star, watching his wings trembling and flicking, you feel bad. Know he’s still worried Megatron might hurt you even though he’s bonded to you. That he can’t trust the warlord and you’ve been in his memories. Understand the pain and mistrust, don’t blame him for it. “I’m attending to what most needs my attention.” Megatron says, servos now under your pants and sliding lower as he needles Star. And you remember Soundwave pinning you against Starscream. Forcing him to accept that they’d both claimed you. Trapped between them both as they took turns with you. Lips parting as Megatron cups you to make you shiver, you lay your head back against Megatron. Let go of his wrist to reach for Starscream. ‘Star?’ Hear Megatron growl softly, the noise a warning you ignore.

Previous

Next

[mikkomacko]

OMG NOW WE NEED THAT FINGERING BLURB

It’s all Nico’s fault really.

You were never like this. Never the girl that made decisions based on the boy she’s with. Never so down bad and desperate that you felt absolutely out of your mind.

Maybe it’s not Nico and more so the fact that you clearly weren’t having sex with the right people before. Then again, that’s Nico’s doing too. He’s the one the wound you up, pressed and prodded at all these vulnerable spots you had no idea existed until you were laid out on his bed.

You hadn’t been like this before because you had no idea what you were missing.

And right now, you’re missing him.

“Where are you going?” Jack shouts over the bar noises, a ready bottle of fireball in hand. He motions to the empty shot glass you just placed down and you shake your head.

“Nico,” you slur, motioning to where you know he’s sat the booth. He’s not a shot person, but when Jack and Haula had egged you and Timo to come down to the bar a couple, you left with the promise of returning with a beer for him.

A beer that is growing warmer the longer you stay here taking shots with these guys. So you need to get it to him. And you also need to cool that burning feeling in your stomach, the one that seems to be whining for him.

Not that you say that to them.

“Noooo,” Haula complains, making Jack pour him another shot. “One more, come on.”

He said that three shots ago and yet here you are. You’ve got a one track mind though and it only involves getting Nico’s hands on you.

“To Timo,” you tell him, smiling innocently at your best friend. “He’ll drink it for me.”

Before any of them can argue you’re darting away, pushing through the overly full Saturday night crowd. Nico’s drink in hand, you stumble a bit as you hastily make your way back, but as soon as you can make out the figure of your boyfriend perched in his usual spot, it’s like everything clears.

Like a shining ray of light comes down from heaven to guide you to him.

It’s obvious from the lazy grin on his face that he knows just how much you drank down at the bar, dark eyes twinkling with amusement as you wobble on Bambi legs to him.

“Nico,” you greet, your tone flirty as you slip into the booth with him, placing his beer on the sticky table top. Tucking into his side, you slip your fingers under the hem of his black shirt, press into the warm skin of his abdomen.

Blatant you know that but what’s a girl gotta do around here to get her hot boyfriend naked?

Nico’s eyebrow lifts with interest, that grin growing cocky as he takes you in. “Baby,” he tells you, voice a low purr and the heat in your belly pulses.

All you can think about is him. The scratch of his beard when he kisses down your neck, the warmth of his hands when he grabs at you, squeezing your hips or holding your wrists. The strength of his body, of his hips on top of you.

“Want you,” you whisper, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He looks so good with that stupid smirk and those dark eyes, looking down at you like he’s got a feast laid out before him.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, eyes looking you and up down with mirth. You paw at his neck, lean in to kiss him again and he just lets you, not exactly reciprocating but not denying either.

“You look so good,” you tell him, and he lets out a flattered chuckle, finally dropping his arm around you so he can press his fingers into your back, drawing you in closer.

“So do you,” he whispers, eyelashes fluttering as his gaze drops down to where your skirt is riding up your thighs. “Running around all night in that lame excuse for a skirt. Knew I couldn’t resist those pretty legs huh?”

It’s funny because you faintly remember him watching you get ready, shaking his head at the pair of tight jeans you almost wore. Some excuse about how he thinks you should wear something that’ll go with your favorite knee high boots.

And yet you nod your head, pouting your lips out and hoping to good he’ll kiss you for real. He does, but only momentarily. Placatingly pressing his lips to yours in a lazy peck.

“Over here baby,” he says, and you’re helpless to denying him anything as he motions for you to slip into his lap, crowding your back into the wall. You’re kissing him then, one hand on his chest and the other threading through his hair. Messy and desperate and probably a little pathetic too.

“Shhh baby,” he tells you, parting just enough to whisper and it’s then you realize you’re making soft and needy little noises.

“Nico please,” you whine, letting a leg slip off his lap and to the bar floor, parting your thighs for him and making your skirt ride up even higher.

“Not yet,” he says, “can have me when we get home-“

“Let’s go now,” you interrupt, drunken mind forgetting that for Jack’s birthday tonight, you all promised to stay out as long as he did. No matter how drunk, his tired, how horny any of you may be.

“Can’t,” he presses a warm kiss to your cheek, then below your ear. “You know that. Be patient for me, ok?”

You whine about it, make him laugh under his breath but then he’s kissing you again, the arm cradled between you and the wall wrapping around the back of your neck. The other splays out over your thigh, fingertips digging into the flesh as he licks into your mouth, kisses you stupid.

“Fuck you gotta stop making those noises,” he mutters, sounding almost pained and you blink open your eyes to find him watching you pant for air, lips swollen and red. You hadn’t even realized you were making them again, too caught up in him.

“Nico I need you,” you plead, skin tingling when his hold on you tightens. You can already hear the excuses he’s thinking of, the way he’s going to shut down because you’re in a crowded bar.

But it’s his bar.

“Come on boss,” you encourage, “can do anything you want right? So do it to me, please?”

Just to be safe you bat your eyelashes at him, pouting your lips out again and he lets out a frustrated sigh, head lulling back for a moment. You latch onto his neck, kiss at the soft skin as he looks around for anyone paying attention, anyone that may be looking at you two a little too closely.

Because he’s already caved. He caved the moment he pressed his mouth to yours and you made those pretty little noises he only ever gets to hear you make in private.

A large palm shifts to the inside of your thigh, trailing up and up until Nico’s fingertips are teasing at your wet underwear. He inhales sharply, jaw ticking when he pulls you away from his neck to look at him.

“You’re gonna be good,” he demands, “take what I give you and do it nicely, yeah?”

“Yes Nico please.”

Squeezing down on your neck, he holds you still as his thumb pulls your underwear to the side, quick and efficient as he slips his middle finger into you. You arch into him, eyelids fluttering but he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“Eyes open baby, don’t want everyone to know do you?”

It’s a question, at least you think it is but there’s no answer falling off your tongue. Not when he draws his finger out, adding his ring finger to the mix when he fucks them back into you. The stretch is just enough, his beautifully thick fingers reaching just where you were aching for him.

“Don’t want them to know how desperate you are for it huh?” Nico goads, his accent thickening and it makes your thighs tremble. He always sounds so good when his tongue gets lazy, when he’s too caught up in taking you apart to focus on his accent.

“For you,” you gasp, grabbing at his forearm, digging your nails into the muscles that flex with every pump of his fingers. “Desperate for you.”

It doesn’t take him long, never does really but especially not now when you’re this wound up and drunk. His thumb presses into your clit, rubbing tight circles and you have no idea how he’s keeping the rhythm of his fingers at the same time but you don’t care.

All you care about is the coil tightening in your belly, the orgasm that’s growing closer and closer and feels so good coming from him.

“Look at you,” he breathes, almost in awe and you blink, realize you’d closed your eyes. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and gleaming with lust as he watches you fall apart in front of all these people, sat on his lap with his fingers buried in you.

“You’ll spread your thighs for me anywhere won’t you? Just as long as I make you feel good. Doesn’t matter who knows, huh?”

You whimper, shifting your hips down into his fingers and he laughs, low and husky and sweet like honey.

“Go ahead baby,” he coos, “come. What was it you said? I’m the boss and can do what I want?”

His lips peck yours, short and biting and then he’s leaning into your ear, his next words a demanding growl.

“I want you to come for me.”

Stars burst behind your closed eyes, the moan slipping at you gets swallowed by Nico as he silences you with a kiss. You cling to him, dig your nails into him knowing that there will probably be marks left behind, that it probably stings right now but he doesn’t stop you.

No, he works you through it, slowing his fingers into a lazy curl and his thumb just ghosts over your throbbing clit.

You want him to stay there, holding your neck in his strong hands, kissing you and just ever so slightly pressing his fingers into your walls. But someone will be coming back soon, someone will wonder over looking for you two.

Jack, no matter how drunk, will eventually realize that he hasn’t had a drink with Nico yet and come demanding.

Nico pulls back, eyes locked on yours as he slips his fingers out of you, lets your underwear fall back into place, cold and tacky on your sensitive core. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead when you wince, shushing you ever so slightly and you take a deep breath, relaxing back into his arm and the wall surrounding the booth.

You feel good, light and almost boneless. Like you’re made of clouds, made happy and satiated by him. Still catching your breath, you watch him glance around the bar again before he brings his fingers up to his mouth, the slickness of them barely getting a chance to catch the low light before they’re disappearing between his lips.

“Oh fuck me,” you mutter, pussy clenching around nothing and despite how good you feel, you think you could beg him to do it again right now, to please put that hand back where it was.

Instead you lick at your own dry lips, inhaling shakily when he drops his hand back to his jeans and wipes his fingers off. Then he’s smiling at you, those pretty pink lips curling into a cocky grin.

“Later,” he says, reaching for the leg you’d dropped off his lap earlier, hauling it back up over his thighs as he shifts under you, the front of his jeans pressing into the back of your thigh. He sucks in a breath, swallowing heavily and you almost laugh.

“Promise?”

Nico shoots you a look, smoothing your hair down with his hand. He cups your face then, gaze growing loving and full of awe as he looks over your features, the well-fucked gloss over your eyes and the flush to your face.

“You always look so pretty when you come,” he whispers, almost like he was speaking to himself and it makes you blush, grinning bashfully.

“Can I have a kiss?” You ask, and he laughs, leaning in to give a tender kiss, short but lingering when he pulls back.

“Let’s go get you some water, my sweet girl.”

[nonbinary-potatoes]

Prompt: Change 19/10/24 @rosekillermicrofic

Word count: 811

(Was feeling super motivated to write today, but it's not proofread)

Barty would never understand why Evan and Regulus liked the library so much. It was too quiet most of the time, and the room temperature was always too warm for a jumper but too cold not to have one. Still, Barty sat in his seat and doodled mindlessly onto parchment because he'd rather be bored out of his mind in the company of his boyfriend and best friend than bored out of his mind by himself At least there was something to do here, and being alone was always a recipe for trouble when it came to Barty.

"Nice drawing, Bug," Evan muttered softly, looking up from his notes briefly and smiling at the sketch Barty had been half-heartedly working on. There were some basic anatomy sketches, based on the pictures in the book Regulus was working on - some bullshit about healer school prep. But it was fun to draw, and the pictures were pretty cool, especially the ones from autopsy results. Barty smiled, writing an I and a U on either side of an anatomical heart and sliding the parchment towards Evan who took it, folded it, and tucked it safely into his breast pocket on his shirt. "I heart you too," he mumbled before returning to his notes.

"Heyyyyy Junior," an annoying voice drawled out, some blonde girl strutting over the table the three were working at. She batted her eyelashes and smirked, clearly wanting something. Barty recognised her as some hookup from a while ago, Chloe, maybe? Some C name.

"Yeah?" Barty squinted at her suspiciously. She leant over the table the buttons on her blouse undone at the top, showing off far too much cleavage for a casual interaction. She pouted before running a tongue over her teeth and speaking in a disgustingly sweet voice.

"A little birdy told me that you're not seeing any girls at the moment... so I safely assume you're on the pull..." she drawled her words in a particularly annoying way, Barty was coping by imagining using her as a specimen for an autopsy. At least this conversation had given him some insight on a possible future career option.

"Me, you. Hogsmeade tomorrow, get me a drink, and we can come back to my dorm afterwards." She was straight to the point; credit where credit was due. Evan wrinkled his nose but stayed occupied on his notes. A shame, really. Barty would've liked to see him shut her down.

"Sorry, dollface got plans. Can't change em" Barty shrugged her off, encouraging her to quiet while she was ahead. Unfortunately it was rather unbelievable that Barty wasn't actively hunting down someone to sleep with, he wasn't exactly known for his celibacy in the same way he wasn't known for his ability to maintain a longterm relationship. He had since realised that he just didn't get that spark for women. There was never any romance... no desire to make it last the same way there was with Evan.

She reached foreward, walking her fingers up Barty's chest and pushing his chin up to look at her face. It was a rather disgusting plea for attention, attention Barty wasn't going to give her.

"Yeh bitch, we have fucking plans" Evan grumbled quietly, clearly not too please with the attention she was giving Barty but he wasn't often the type to cause a scene unlike Barty who didn't mind putting people in their place. She glanced at Evan and raised an eyebrow. "Who invited you to my conversation? You swot." She scrunched her nose up. She looked a lot like an ugly hare. Somehow, the way she spoke to Evan made her look even uglier.

"Don't talk to him like that," Barty snarled, swatting her hand from his face. He had no shame in punching her if the need arose. Luckily for her, she seemed to get the idea that Barty didn't want her unsolicited touching.

She frowned, suddenly looking much less friendly. Kissing her teeth, she stood up and buttoned her blouse back up properly. "Fucking enjoy your date with your bros" she muttered, gesturing to Evan and Regulus and glancing between them like they were offensive. She leaned close again to whisper "I don't get why you're cockblocking yourself Crouch" spitting the words out bitterly, she gestured widely to herself "what's not to want?"

"The clap," Regulus says before chuckling to himself and going back to his book, clearly proud of the comeback. The girl looked even more offended now, much to Barty's amusement.

"I'll enjoy my date with my boyfriend... and then after that, I'll very much enjoy-" Barty was cut off by Evans hand clasped over his mouth, giving Barty that stern look that easily made him shut up and not even consider talking. He smiled with his eyes and waggled his fingers as the girl stormed off, looking half disgusted and half disappointed.

[literaila]

were there any occurrences back in the day where gojo and reader almost kissed?

“i’m not helping you with this.”

gojo is sprawled across the bleachers, his limbs way too long, his hair getting all over your notebook. “please,” he repeats, for the fifth time, “he’s going to kill me if i turn it in late again.”

“maybe go ask one of your friends,” you suggest, idly, not even bothering to pull on the white mop that is currently smudging your neat writing. “oh wait. you can’t.”

there’s a smirk on your face because you quite like it when gojo begs

“is this another—“

“‘cause you don’t have any.”

two otherworldly eyes meet yours. gojo glances up at you with a sort of irritation you rarely get to see on him. “how many times are you going to make that joke?” he asks, grumbling. “it’s getting old.”

you grin. “not to me.”

and then you push him away and he sighs as he lays on the bench, one leg propped in front of you, the other folded almost underneath his torso.

“can you go now? i actually need to finish my assignment.”

gojo makes another pathetic noise. “yaga said no more missions until i turn it in, though,” he pokes you with a shoe. “how am i supposed to buy more pocky if i can’t leave school grounds?”

“bribe suguru to buy some for you.”

“that doesn’t work anymore.”

you raise a brow, pushing his foot away. “what’d you do?”

“i didn’t do anything,” he pouts at you, leaning up. “who ever said a verbal contract was binding?”

“mm… the civil code, i think.”

gojo scoffs. “well, i’m still not paying him.”

“what a shame,” you sigh, abandoning your paperwork—how are you supposed to focus with his syrupy voice droning on, anyway? “i guess the next week will be filled with your sugar withdrawals.”

“or…” gojo sits up, smiling at you—his most irritating one, of course, like he knows some secret. “you could help me with this assignment.”

“i’m not cheating for you.”

“‘help,’” he repeats, “do you know what ‘help’ is?”

“your version of help is having me give you all of the answers and then purposefully misspelling some words so yaga won’t notice.”

“do you think i’m illiterate?” gojo asks, mock hurt.

you laugh. “aren’t you?”

he frowns. “now you have to help me.”

“go ask geto, or shoko, or literally anyone else. why am i your first choice whenever you want to annoy someone?”

you see his eyelashes flutter from the tips of his glasses. “because you have the best reactions,” he answers, slyly.

you look away, shaking your head.

“and you’re the smartest. and meanest. i like it when you’re mean to me.”

you look back over, scoffing. “yeah, i know,” you slide over, just a bit. “you freak.”

who said kissing ass never worked?

you really need to work on setting some boundaries with him. or your own idiocy. maybe you should ask shoko if you got a concussion last time you sparred with nanami.

“what’s the assignment?” you ask, making sure not to look at gojo’s face.

he grins, leaning down anyway. as if he doesn’t know what you’re doing. as if he’s not aware that his grins are your breaking point—that they’ll either push you further away or draw you in so close that you can taste his breath.

as if he can’t feel it too.

“you’re going to help me?” he asks, far too proud. “really?”

“you’re buying me lunch next time we have a mission together,” you tell him. “and dinner.”

“am i?”

you look up at him, eyes sharp, mouth ready to—

but he’s right there, and gojo doesn’t know a single thing about personal space.

and you thought that you were used to this. used to feeling like you can see his eyes, even with his blacked out shades. used to the glimmering edges of his teeth, and the smooth shine to his skin.

used to him and his words and..

god damn it. why does he have to make everything so difficult?

and really, it’s not your fault when you lean forward a little bit—because there’s a slight breeze and you were pushed. because you just lost your balance for a second and you just need to straight out again.

and it’s not even you leaning in at all. it’s gojo—it’s always gojo. it’s always satoru making the wrong moves and pushing these things too far, and it’s not your fault that his lips are pink and your eyes are drawn to them, or that everything about him is so hard and soft and—

you flinch away when a bird sings, or when the wind changes, or when you finally catch on to the tone of your own thoughts.

you lean back again, hating yourself for every moment that you didn’t before.

“i—“ you clear your throat. “you are. buying me things, i mean. you are.”

gojo swallows. “okay.”

“okay.”

he doesn’t look at you and you don’t look at him. the two of you pause for a moment, the silence entirely too loud.

“okay,” you repeat. “what’s it about, again?”

[aurorasgate]

your seph fics are multiplying !! time to add more 🎀 (p.s. i love you. you're literally so sweet)

sephiroth, who goes out with f!reader to drink and brings them back to their room very drunk and horny. although he doesn't let anything happen and they interact very sweetly with each other, it's almost funny.

eeee i was blushing and so mushy writing this hghgklhdg thank you so much for requesting and helping me add to my seph fics! i adore you<3

sephiroth x drunk!reader with no pronouns used

warnings: 16+ please, suggestive, tooth rotting fluff, as usual with me pre nibelheim seph

walking through the streets of midgar never failed to draw the attention of many for sephiroth. anywhere he walked there were always eyes on him and even now in late evening, the few citizens that are out can’t help themselves all while they’re pretending not to stare in awe or fear or some mix of the two. but there is only one pair that he cares to pay any mind to and they also seem to be the most intense of the looks cast his way at this moment, the most daring to not break away from the soldiers intimidating aura. 

he feels your eyes on him before he looks down to see you staring intently at his face, as if to study every inch of his sharp features and count every long eyelash, not at all paying attention to the sidewalk in front of you and it makes his arm around you tighten. his eyes meet yours and hold your gaze. your face scrunches in question but he feels you lean a bit more against him and he can’t suppress the smile tugging at his lips as you continue to look at him acutely and adorably.

“is there something on my face?” he asks, his voice soft and laced with a teasing undertone.

you don’t answer his question but instead ask one of your own. “how c’m you don’t look drunk? like - at all.” your serious expression drops with your slurred words. “you and angeal drank soooo much,” you add, bursting into a giggle, like the memory of watching them down drinks with laughs and smiles replays back into your mind. “thought genesis might die tryin’ to keep up.”

“you drank quite a bit yourself,” sephiroth says, though you weren’t wrong about how much he and angeal had but both of them were far from lightweights. truthfully, he isn’t quite sure he’s ever been fully ‘drunk’ but after tonight there is a warm hum that lingers in his spine and spreads to his cheeks and chest. though he could argue you weren’t helping with that aspect either but it's not as though he wants it to end.

“hehe- *hick* i did,” you agree happily, added proof of the nice time you’ve had tonight with sephiroth and his friends and it makes his chest swell. 

your steps begin to slow until you stop entirely right outside your apartment building and he follows easily, keeping right next to you, ready to carry you upstairs if you need it. your normal scent mixed with alcohol permeates in the air between you as you take a wobbly step closer to your boyfriend, barely leaving space for the night air to slip between your rising and falling chests.

he holds onto your waist with both of his large hands, helping keep you upright in your drunken state while your own hands reach for his face, the tips of your fingers brushing along his brow as you move hair from his face, the other caressing his cheek. his entire being softens, his heart skipping a beat at your loving touch and the way you look at him as if he himself was the moon and stars and you were a wanderer basking in the etherealness of a silvery sparkling night sky for the first time. 

“you look as pretty as ever,” your words come out hushed, like maybe you hadn’t meant to voice them but you couldn’t keep them back, not when you felt the truth of it so strongly, drunk or not. he really was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. your curious fingers move towards his lips and you stand on your toes to reach him, your body rocking as you add a bit louder with a suppressed giggle, “‘n very sober.”

sephiroth chuckles and feels the heat in his cheeks spreading to his ears. keeping one hand on your waist with a light squeeze, his free hand wraps around your wrist. the lack of leather between your skin would have been enough to make you smile ear to ear but you’re stunned frozen when he kisses the pads of your fingers, pressing them gently into his lips, and you hardly have the strength to stand at the weakness in your knees but sephiroth holds you steady against him. 

“you, my dear, are far prettier,” he speaks the words against your fingers and your eyes remain locked on him as he kisses your hand again with a flutter of his lashes. “but i am mostly sober.”

“unfair,” you mean to say, though you don’t know how well it comes out when every functioning part of you is either drunk or tingling with the feelings sephiroth stirs inside of you, the kind that’s all consuming and world stopping and has you burying your face in the softness of the button up shirt he’s wearing.

“perhaps it’s a side effect of the mako,” he says in an attempt to satisfy your curiosity though he doesn’t really believe it himself but there wasn’t an explanation for a lot of differences he has compared to others and this was just another. it’s one he’s never been bothered by, especially when it meant he could ensure you were safe while you got to have as much as you’d like.

your feet fall flat to the ground and you push yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his slim waist and resting your cheek on his chest like you’re trying to comfort him. “.. don’ need the mako. you’re perfect jus the way you are.”

sepehiroth holds you for a moment without speaking a word, his lips resting against the crown of your head but after a few seconds pass you can feel him smiling as he whispers into your hair. “is that so?”

squeezing him tighter, you nod with complete certainty, “‘s true.”

suddenly it feels like you’re weightless, as if you’re being carried in the wind and you yelp at the loss of solid ground and the way the world moves and spins but the strong arms at your back and under your legs, the chest you snuggle into, quickly make you feel safe, comfortable. once you have your bearings in his hold, with each long stride sephiroth takes into your apartment building you’re rocking your feet back and forth in glee and kissing the edge of his jaw, the smile you wear searing into his skin and imprinting against his heart.

every ding of the elevator making its way to your floor, every step down the hallway towards your apartment at the end of the hall, has your kissing growing hotter, less chaste and your teeth beginning to nip at his neck. you can feel the flushing of his skin under your lips and it only brings you deeper into the hypnotizing, intoxicating, state you’re currently in, where the only thing on your mind, in your world, is sephiroth. 

like every bit of him and the love you share is coursing through your veins and into your heart and you would perish without it. the way you hold onto him, with how your lips taste every inch of his skin they can reach, it’s as though you’re worried you might have to be without but he wasn’t going anywhere. not without you.

right outside your apartment door, with a squeeze to your thighs, his voice is deep and you feel its rumble in his chest as he speaks low. “little love.” it’s a gentle warning but it doesn’t seem to halt the heat building inside of you and how bold your touches become. they only grow bolder from the moment he steps inside your place and kicks the door closed behind him.

making his way to your room, your unsteady fingers fumble with the first button of his shirt and then the second and your tongue pokes from between your lips to taste the supple skin of his neck, right over his pulse. as addicting and wonderful and loving as your kisses are, he takes in a deep breath to reign in his composure. the breath is so full of your scent it makes him light headed in a way alcohol never could but the lingering smell of the bitter liquid on your lips makes it easy for him to hold onto his calmness despite how determined you are to get your way.

pressing his fingers into your side lightly, your lips break from his neck and you burst into a laugh at the ticklish feeling, giving him the perfect chance to place you in your bed with a gentle plop but you aren’t keen to let go of him and with more strength than he was expecting, you pull him down with you. 

in the tumble of your bodies and your relentless wiggling, you end up on top of him with your hands on his chest and your legs straddling his hips. you rest perfectly over his slightly hard cock and sephiroth watches your eyes darken when you attempt to rock against him but his reflexes are faster than yours, even when you’re sober, and he quickly stops you before you can grind against him. 

you whimper in protest, desperate to feel him, have him, and you try again but he’s yet again faster than you when he captures your wrist in his grasp before you can unbutton more of his shirt. his grip is tender but unrelenting in its hold while his other hand keeps your hips in place, not giving you any chance for the upperhand.

“sephiroth!” you whine, looking down at him as though you might cry, your hands balling into fists and bunching up the fabric of his shirt in your hold.

“not tonight sweetheart,” his words are soothing and kind and to ease you more, his thumb rubs circles into your skin over your shirt and he lets go of your wrist in favor of pulling you down towards his chest with his hand cradling the back of your skull.

you don’t fight him as he takes control and rolls you with slowness until you’re resting in the plush sheets and sephiroths broad frame hovers above you, long silver locks falling beside your head like pools of starlight. your eyes are pleading, glossy for more reason than one, your bottom lip set in a pout he would have given into any sober night.

“but i need you. please-”

he calls your name, his tone serious, leaving no room for discussion or worries but remains so full of care and love that only grows deeper when he leans down, letting his lips brush along your cheeks as he whispers, “when i get to have you, it won’t be when i can’t make love to you properly.” he chooses his words carefully, not wanting you to feel bad for desiring him. that was the very last thing he wanted, next to taking any kind of advantage of you or possibly hurting you. 

“.. ‘m sorry,” your voice shakes rather than slurs like it had most of your walk home, your body filling with shame and anxiousness that makes an extra uncomfortable mix of emotions settling in your stomach along with the alcohol you drank. you try to hold back the tears on your lash line and hide the wobble of you lip by biting down but like sephiroth knew it was coming, he brings a hand up to swipe along the skin below your lip, coaxing you to let it go and the next moment catches the tear that escapes against your drunken will.

“there’s nothing to apologize for angel,” he kisses your cheek, comfortingly pressing a bit of his weight on you and holding your face in his palm. “i need you too. more than you know.” another kiss, this time at the edge of your lips. “will you wait for me?”

the warmth of his breath on your skin, the tickle of his hair and scent of his shampoo, all along with his proximity eases your anxious heart and ceases your tears as quickly as they came. “i’d do anything ‘f you seph.” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tender kiss.

he doesn’t get a chance to tell you how much he would do for you too, that there are no lengths he wouldn’t go for you and your love but no words are needed when his lips tell you it all and more. unhurried, basking in every press of your soft lips against each others, his massive body melts into the bed next to your and he pulls you flush against him as you share kiss after sweet kiss.

there’s no telling how much time passes before your lips break but when sephiroth pulls away it’s only far enough to rest his forehead on yours. you share every breath, every heartbeat and he doesn’t know where you begin or he ends, both in body and soul. he feels the bliss of your smile in his heart as if it is his own and you hold onto him with just as much tender and urgent adoration as he does you.

you’re the first to break the comfortable silence between you. “i love you, you know that?”

“i do," he lets out a soft sigh at the confession of your feelings, unsure if he will ever get used to hearing the words but please tell him again and again. "i love you too. i’ll love you forever.” 

your breath catches, like you can’t believe it’s true but are excited about it all the same. starting to rub the tip of your nose against his, you add in a drunken whisper, “really? forevers a long time.” 

“a very long time,” he emphasizes with a feather light kiss to your lips. “and i will love and protect you every second of it.”

main masterlist

[taevescence]

happy 300!!! congrats author!!!! you deserve it. i want to participate in the 300 celebration activity, so 🍁, bf!yoongi x fem reader, nsfw. thank uu

a/n: Hi, anon! How are you? I hope very well ^^ I'm very sorry for the delay in getting your request done, I was very busy with college and then I had a writer's block (which was mostly limited to smut lol). Thank you so much for making the request and for your nice words, I hope you can read this and it's to your liking <3 I'd love to know what you think (if you're still hanging around these parts). Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @tan-veee Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Boyfriend Yoongi who: Has a slight obsession with your thighs-or legs in general. You took a breath, feeling every inch of your body ignite and quiver as you felt Yoongi's lips against your knee, moving closer and closer to your center. You could feel his eyes fixed on your face, even though yours were tightly closed due to the pleasure he was making you feel with his kisses, although being honest, he might not do more than look at you and you would already be crossing your legs in order to calm your cravings for him a little. “Why are you closing your eyes, sweetheart?” he whispered against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, using his tongue to draw a transparent path to the fold of your underwear. You had to swallow the moan of surprise that almost escaped your lips. “I-I'm sorry, it's just... god, it's been a long time since we last did this,” you heard a hoarse chuckle come from him, and almost instantly you felt a squeeze on your thighs, his big hands pulling you until you were completely under him. “You're right, it's been a while since the last time...I wonder what it will feel like to get my cock inside you after so many months.”

Boyfriend Yoongi who: He loves to use vulgar language with you while you're in the bedroom. You clung to the sheets you had been lying on since you and Yoongi got home that night; it had all happened so fast that you hadn't even noticed at what point he had lifted your dress up to your waist to get a perfect view of his cock going in and out of your pussy. You could see through your eyelashes how his gaze was fixed on that middle point between the two of you, where both were finally becoming one. His tongue ran softly over his lower lip before he turned his gaze back to you. His body moved closer to yours, close enough that you could feel his warmth on yours and his breath collide with yours. His lips moved to your ear, and he whispered next to it, “Ah, my little slut, you look so good under me... so fucked, so breathless... it’s like you’ve been waiting for me to fuck you into oblivion since the moment we met, though, wasn’t it?” he let out an almost inaudible laugh, asserting himself on your hips to penetrate deeper inside you. Had it not been for him covering your mouth, you would have screamed right then and there, “I couldn't expect more from you, you really are a slut,” he kissed and nibbled on the bare skin of your collarbone, enjoying the feel of your burning skin against his tongue, “but it's okay, I like you just like that.”

Boyfriend Yoongi who: He likes to keep control even when you're riding him. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling his cock go deep inside you. This may not be Yoongi's favorite position, but he wouldn't complain either, not when he has you on top of him, being a quivering, flailing mess, letting out moans every time he lifts his hips to meet yours, plus, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't turned on by watching your tits bounce; this position gave him a perfect view of you, that he'd never deny. “Shit, are you close already, so soon?” he teased softly, clinging to your hips hard enough to leave some mark the next morning. It's not like either of you cared much at the moment. He raised an eyebrow as he saw that you couldn't even adequately answer his question, even if he already knew the answer; he could feel your walls tightening around him, as your thighs began to shake harder and harder, and as your movements became more and more disorganized. He brought his hands up until they were just below your ribs, pressing you down so you couldn't move. He couldn't help but grin like an idiot as he heard you claim breathlessly, “Who told you you could cum?” you brushed your hair away from your face, looking up at him with pursed lips, “Come on, don't be an idiot, Yoongi, that's the third time you've made me-” you squealed loudly as you felt an all too well timed thrust from him. You hated how well he knew your body. “Shut that pretty mouth and calm down, we'll start again.”

Boyfriend Yoongi who: He would spend most of the time with his tongue against your pussy. You pulled on Yoongi's hair with all the strength your hands could offer. Your toes clenched and your back stayed hunched as you moaned -screamed- as if your life depended on it. Having Yoongi's mouth between your legs was an addiction you didn't know you had until this moment. Tears began to stream down your face the moment pleasure and pain merged to give you that pinch that made everything inside you squirm. “You're so wet...I didn't know you liked my tongue so much” he murmured against your pussy, letting out a sigh on it, setting all your nerves on edge almost instantly. He knew what he was doing, you could see it in his bright eyes and his shit-eating grin. “So cute” he ran his tongue up and down your slit until he reached your clit, wrapping it between his lips and pulling on it with just enough force to make the knot inside you tighten twice as much as it already was. “Yoongi... please...” you moaned softly, whimpering like a little girl who had just had a piece of candy taken away from her; if he kept teasing you like this your body wasn't going to take it, “Please what?" he asked with a mocking tone, barely pressing your entrance with his flexible muscle, “Please, please, just... put your fucking tongue in at once”, you rolled your eyes as you heard him say something about your vulgar vocabulary, as if he had the right to claim you for that; still you couldn't say anything to him, how to do it when his tongue was deep inside your pussy, pressing the right places, moving at the speed that made your whole being turn to jelly? You went back to pulling his hair, inwardly grateful for the talent your boyfriend had with his tongue. Being a rapper definitely had its advantages.

Boyfriend Yoongi who: He loves to leave marks on very exposed areas of your body. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to catch your lost breath. Your whole body seemed to burn and ache, that kind of pain that actually felt satisfying, that managed to take you to the stars at least for a few seconds. “Ugh, I can't feel my legs” you muttered, chuckling. You could feel Yoongi running his hands over the bare skin of your waist, the rough fingertips of his fingers felt good against your skin. You liked that post-sex moment when you both simply caressed each other with no intention of fucking again. Or at least you thought that was his intention until you felt his teeth bite into your neck. “Yoongi! What the hell?” you looked at him with wide eyes, your mouth opening slightly as you felt the lingering sting on your neck. “Sorry, it looked too clean” he muttered with that shit-eating grin he knew made your legs shake. You wanted to punch his beautiful fucking face.

Masterlist.

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: LORE, CHARACTERIZATION, AND THE ONE IN WHICH I RUIN A BUNCH OF PEOPLE'S FUN

As usual, this is far from all of the asks in my inbox but I'm trying to catch up 😩thank you everyone for your patience!

For the record, if your ask isn't being answered, that most likely means one of three things:

I am saving it as a possible art prompt.

I sincerely don't have a very interesting or good reply for it yet!

It's a question I have been asked multiple times/the answer is in my pinned post.

Glad you like them!!

As much as I don't limit what I draw to canonical events, vampirism is so antithetical to DU drow's character journey that I couldn't really envision it, to be honest, but who knows! Maybe I'll cook up some Ascended Astarion scenario someday that is kind of a role-reversal of the Bhaalist DU Drow AU I have going on in tandem to the story.

I'll be honest, this is one of the rare times where I'm really not sure which aspect of DU drow's weirdness this is in reference to. Do you know something I don't? 😅

His masochism is very... Classic, I guess? He's in it for the pain and for the emotional connection, and the process of being pierced wouldn't cut it whatsoever, it's too subtle. The body modifications he has are an incidental result of it, but they were never really the goal.

Also having stuff dangling off his face or body would just irritate him, he specifically only does rings because all other types of jewellery get in the way too much. Pre-tadpole Bhaalist drow obviously wore them by the ton, but only as a symbol of status and because he had a permanent new-money complex🤷 so yeah not a piercing-type of character at all, sorry!

He's smooth from the eyelashes-down and profoundly weirded out by body hair LOL

I don't personally think that whatever Astarion had for a home before would bear my resemblance to it after 200 years - having probably gone through several owners, remodeled, if not completely lost to the destruction of the end-game. I do HC that he used to visit it whenever he could as an enthralled spawn to read his mail, but he stopped after his father passed.

THANK YOU, I THINK? I can't say that isn't a passionate description at least!

I'm honestly surprised that this comes up as often as it does LOL but it's just an stylistic choice on my end!

The latter - for sure. He figured that them dying at each other's hands at the end was a given and took that assumption entirely for granted (and I'm sure daydreamed about it often while Gortash went on and on about political strategy during their dinner meetings.)

;))) way ahead of you and by "way ahead" I mean "eventually and whenever I can figure out when to do it alongside the other 30 ideas I am currently juggling" (but I really do want to make a little comic out of it!)

He used them! Not immediately, but he grew to trust the guardian after some initial suspicion and happily gobbled up those squirmy little things alongside Astarion. Because I made his character on a whim and without any planned backstory, I didn't really put any thought into his Guardian's appearance either, so she's just a human woman with a Joan of Arc look going on who's of no significance to him or his past.

But DU drow did trust her, again not immediately but eventually. It was honestly a big kick in the gut to him when the Emperor revealed himself and it definitely set their relationship up to fail from the get-go.

This is also why he didn't ascend to the next stage of Ilithid power, he just stomped the thing dead right on the spot LOL

LMAO I think Gortash is too proud to chase a tail he can't catch like that

He was probably very overwhelmed by the sudden realization that OH, THIS IS ALL HAPPENING BECAUSE OF ME which naturally didn't come across whatsoever to anyone present since he immediately bottled it up and tucked it away out of sight. However, as the story progressed and DU drow helped his friends get out of their respective pickles he was probably able to justify it to himself as it having been for the greater good - since it led to Astarion being freed from his master and Shadowheart to defying the Sharrans.

As for all of the rest of the ensued destruction and death that resulted from it? Well you can't make an omelette without cracking some eggs, or whatever is the wizard version of that saying. He has essentially turned the entire situation into a net-positive in his mind and sleeps great at night because of it.

[jam3sacaster]

rupert campbell-black

NS/FW Alphabet

trying something a lil different! 🫶🏽 18+ HEADCANONS. super smutty. reader character aged at 21.

A - Aftercare:

Rupert is an absolute sucker for aftercare. For the rest of the night, he’ll be stroking your hair & giving you gentle kisses on your forehead. And, of course, he’ll run you a hot, soapy bath afterwards to relax your muscles.

B - Body part:

His favourite body part of yours is most definitely your legs. He’s constantly caressing them or nestling in between your thighs for warmth. There isn’t a single night that goes by where he isn’t biting at your legs before you have sex.

C - Cum:

Rupert never pulls out. Unless you absolutely beg him to let you swallow it (on occasion), he will fill you up every single time.

D - Dirty secret:

His, and your, dirtiest secret is that you both popped upstairs at The Priory during one of Venturer’s boozy parties and fucked over the windowsill in Declan and Maud’s bedroom. Both incredibly drunk and relishing in the idea of being caught.

E - Experience:

We all know… he has it. Enough said.

F - Favourite position:

It would be very hard for him to pick a favourite, but if he absolutely had to, he’d pick the straddle position. He loves the way you whimper when it’s so deep inside you, and he loves to see your beautiful face as you cum.

G - Goofy (How serious is he during the act?):

Whilst Rupert loves a laugh, he takes your love-making very seriously. Almost as if it’s an act at the theatre, his performance of how much he loves you and your body.

H - Hair (How well groomed is he, and how does he prefer you?):

Rupert has the most fantastic bush, a mound of hair that holds the world’s best, and biggest, treat. You keep yours trimmed and neat, although he wouldn’t really care either way.

I - Intimacy:

Rupert is surprisingly intimate. The nights you spend in bed — candles lit, wine consumed & slowly making love to each other — are his favourite.

J - Jerking off:

Before he met you, nothing was stopping him from wanking two or three times a day. Now, he has no need. You’re there every time he needs you.

K - Kinks:

Rupert most definitely has a breeding kink. He loves to see his hot cum dripping out of your reddened cunt after a good session. Although, it just immediately turns him on again and he’s ready for Round 2.

L - Location:

He’s not particularly fussed where you do it when he’s in the mood, but his favourite place is the Bluebell Woods in Spring, when the floor is awash with that beautiful pale purple. The sight of you bent over on the crisp floor is a dream.

M- Motivation (What turns him on?):

When it comes to you, anything will turn him on. The way your arse looks when you’re in the shower, the way you flutter your wispy eyelashes at him, even the way you scrape your hair into a ponytail. But if he had to pick something that completely took him over the edge, it’s when you suck his dick with that scarlet red lipstick of yours, and it leaves prints over him. Guaranteed to make him cum.

N - No (Something he wouldn’t do):

There’s not much that Rupert wouldn’t do, but he draws the line at submission. He loves to be the dominant one, and has to be in control. There’s nothing that will make him go soft quicker than you trying to take the reigns, and that’s saying something.

O - Oral (Does he prefer giving or receiving?):

Whilst he will never turn down a blowjob, Rupert is a full-time MUNCH. You only have to take your pants off and he’ll be kneeling in front of you, licking at your clit like it was his last meal.

P - Pace

It depends on his mood, honestly. There’s some nights when you look so fucking good in that dress that he takes you home and fucks you hard enough to give you a migraine. But, there’s also some nights that start off slowly with passionate kissing and lead to a slow, intense session where every thrust is entwined with love.

Q - Quickie:

Of COURSE! He’s fucked in a toilet of the Concorde, don’t you know?

R - Risk:

True to his usual character, Rupert is a massive risk-taker. If he gets hard, it doesn’t matter where you are, he’s having you somewhere. Your list includes The Priory, the storeroom of the Bar Sinister, his Porsche and the Bluebell Woods.

S - Stamina:

He could keep going forever. Every time you have sex, you have to prepare yourself to be bent into numerous positions for at least 20 minutes at a time. You never leave the bed without having an orgasm.

T - Toys (Does he use them?):

Rupert has an aversion to any toy, except a vibrator. He wholeheartedly thinks that nothing else should be inside you except him, so best not to mention it.

U - Unfair (Does he tease you?):

He’s a huge tease! There’s nothing he loves more than handcuffing you to the bed and making you whimper with a vibrator, or rubbing himself against your entrance and making you beg for it mercifully.

V - Volume (How loud is he?):

Rupert doesn’t actually make too much noise — just a few grunts and the occasional moan when he’s climaxing. Other than that, he likes to keep quiet so he can hear you squeal frantically under his touch.

W - Wild card (Random!):

Rupert’s guilty pleasure is buying you incredibly expensive lingerie that he finds in your catalogue. It turns him on immensely to see you try them on for him, and it always ends in breaking the set in.

X - X-ray (How big is he?):

It comes as a surprise to nobody that Rupert has a particularly large appendage, that he’s very proud of. It’s thick, veiny & manages to hit the right spot. Every. Single. Time.

Y - Yearning

He has the most fervent sex drive imaginable. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is, if you’re down for it, Rupert will give it to you. You only have to do so much as brush past his leg and he will be rock hard.

Z - Zzz (How quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?)

As soon as he’s finished his aftercare, he is straight to sleep. Snoring & drooling, the whole lot. It takes you a little while longer, you always have to wait for your legs to stop shaking. But you can guarantee Rupert will be asleep the moment his head touches the pillow.

[frummpets]

pls indulge me in my silly AU idea. i just wanted to draw huli jing SY, Bingge was just a bonus 😊

SY exchanged himself for SJ's freedom

he has a collar made of LBH's blood that stops him from fully transforming into a fox

LBH took SY's legs so he can never leave (i just didn't want to draw feet)

✦ TWITTER VERSION

other stuff i haven't quite decided about the au yet:

is SY here a product of transmigration or was he originally a part of this world? ▶︎ who knows. either way, he's with Bingge now 🤭🤭

is SJ related to SY? does that mean SJ is secretly a huli jing? ▶︎ i have no idea. is SY his brother? his pet? a special friend 👀👀👀?

why does SY have glasses? that's very anachronistic of you. ▶︎ i wasn't planning anything when i came up with the AU, i just wanted to draw myself some SY in fluffy fox ears. and his face looked naked without his glasses. we can chalk this one off to an airplane thing.

did LBH ever encounter SY before/when he was still a QJ disciple? ▶︎ maybe?? all i want is a morally dubious relationship with very much uneven power dynamics; i didn't really think beyond what was happening to them in their current timeline

my favorite thing: white eyelashes

@lady-dysnomia u are a legend for this

[necstasy]

paul atreides x bene gesserit reader? 👀 pretty please

slight manipulation?; bene gesserit reader; &. PAUL ATREIDES MDNI 18+

"have you mastered it yet?"

you know what the atreides son is speaking of. the voice, one of the most difficult parts of the bene gesserit training. for a second, you wonder how he knows of the technique. and then you remember his mother, a woman the reverend mother has spoken highly of during your training sessions, despite her defiance.

your eyes watch you and paul's hands as you go to speak. they hang in suspended air off to the side of you both, fingertips touching lightly as paul leads your hands up, down, and to either side. he's creating a box, you realize. it's a soothing and mesmerizing dance.

"no. not yet."

paul hums. his free hand moves from behind your back to your waist.

"it's difficult." it's not a question, he speaks from experience. your eyebrows furrow. you have the urge to ask him how exactly he knows. you want to know if he is being trained in the ways of the bene gesserit, something a man has never been privy to.

but so much else is already sacred in this space. in the dead of night, in your guest quarters, a space that you should not be sharing with the only son of your host for the next week. but it was only natural that you and paul found each other. there was a pull drawing you towards him since you got off the ship. the order of events surely would have driven you two together in an intimate space sooner or later.

"it is," you agree after a moment.

paul shuffles just a bit closer to you. the bend in your elbow increases as your bodies get closer. paul's hand flexes as he bunches the dark fabric of your nightgown in his hands, pulling you just a hair closer. you shouldn't be this close to him. you've never been this close to a man before.

the energy is electrifying.

it buzzes through the air, pulsating between you both to the beat of your heart. you try to call on your learnings. you try to calm your heart in the most simple human ways, the ways your mother taught you before the reverend mother did.

paul licks his lips before he responds again. he takes a moment, he breathes, and you pull your eyes away from your hands to look at paul. the glowglobe hovering just behind you illuminates his face perfectly. it casts shadows where his curls lay over his forehead, it deepens the impressive hollow of his cheekbones. you can see how long his eyelashes are, and how colorful his eyes are. you're hyper-aware of the moles dotting his face, and the scar he has in his cheek.

you're even closer than you thought, but you like it.

"i found that ... pleasure can help you."

your eyebrows shoot up towards your hairline before they fall back to their resting place and push together instead.

"pleasure?"

paul nods.

"how do you mean, my lord?"

his lips quirk up at the honorific and you suddenly feel silly for using it. paul doesn't mention it, though.

"when i'm alone in my room at night, in my own company—" the image enters your brain before you can fight it. paul on his back, his hand below his waist, his eyes heavy lidded and his breath even heavier. you swallow and clear your throat.

"it's like i can feel it wanting to come out of me. and the mornings after, when my mother makes me use it, it's easier."

you don't know how much truth exists in his words, and his suggestion, even if it has yet to be blantantly placed in front of you, is dangerous. it's stupid and risky. and yet, you find yourself drawn to it. that same pull that brought you to paul is bringing you to wanting him to lay out his invitation.

he does soon after.

"do you want to try it?"

you do. you really, really do.

"how would we do it?"

paul pulls you even closer to him and now your chests are touching. he's fighting back a smile, it's obvious in the way the skin around his lips dimples for a second before returning to neutrality. when he speaks, it's harder for him to hide it.

"i don't have to touch you if you don't want me to."

"i want you to." the admission slips from your mouth so quickly and so easily. it's a little embarrassing. your skin warms.

paul takes a moment. he stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth between yours. "okay," he finally says. his smile takes over the lower half of his face. "then i can touch you, and you have to focus, okay?"

you nod.

paul slinks his hand up your back, over your shoulder, and cups your cheek. he intertwines your fingers, your hands still suspended in the air, and he moves just a bit closer until his lips finally lay onto yours.

[teddypickrwritings]

Hiiiii yaaa, im not sure if your request were open but if not, I apologies for my clumsiness, Im obsessed w your writing style... Could I ask for a one shot of Ithaqua x reader pls- or maybe.... Childhood friend!reader 😭😭 fluff fluff fluffff if you're in the mood ✨

Snowy Reunion - Night Watch x Childhood Friend Reader

A/N: Don’t apologize for being awkward, it’s okay!! And my requests are always open! I’m always in the mood for fluff stuff. 🩵

You were lonely for most of your childhood, making acquaintances but never an actual friend. Those weak friendships didn’t last for very long either—especially when Nathaniel Norwell, the magistrate’s son, started ostracizing you.

“They say that witches don’t have friends. You know what that means, (Y/N)? You’re a witch!” the boy jeered at you constantly. And because children don’t know any better, the others started shunning you as well. Your parents’ comforting words slowly lost their effectiveness as you began to believe the taunts over time.

You had sought refuge in the forest when the bullying was especially bad one day. Your parents were on a trip so you could not run into their arms. This turned out to be a mistake on your part—you ended up getting lost and nearly caught in a blizzard.

But, by some miracle, you were found. A kind woman with red hair had appeared out of nowhere and led you back to her cabin to stay for the night—and it was there you met your best friend.

He had scared you with his bright and curious face so similar to Nathaniel’s. But unlike your tormentor, Ithaqua was very kind to you. He was so happy to see another person besides his mother, and one that was his age. You answered his endless amount of questions about society but did not bring up Nathaniel. And you never brought up the mysterious woman and her son in the village. Even though you were young, you knew that some things should be kept secret.

The memory of that night, along with countless others, kept you warm as you trudged through the fast-falling snow. You couldn’t shake the bittersweet feeling that came with those memories, though. Upon your return to Leng, you had learned that Nathaniel was now dead because of a certain red-haired woman. The villagers all said she turned out to be a horrifying witch that had cursed Nathaniel and led him to his death.

She was nothing but kind, you wanted to say, but couldn’t. You only felt a small pang of sympathy for Nathaniel but not much else. He was never your friend and had treated you harshly; there was no need to shed tears. Instead, you immediately went into the forest to find the “witch’s” son.

The feeling of deja vu was overwhelming as you trekked the path to the cabin. Tears became frozen on your eyelashes as you had an awful thought: what if he’s dead too?

A sudden and distant laugh made you stop in your tracks. You were instantly as alert as a fox. “Hello?” you called out, then felt stupid. Why did you draw more attention to yourself?! The lack of response did not make you feel better. You could only hear the sound of your fearful heartbeat.

It happened in an instant—something knocked you face-first into the snowy ground, muffling your screams. You thrashed around in an attempt to get whatever was on you off, but to no avail. The creature flipped you over onto your back and both of you gasped at the same time.

“You…! (Y/N)?!”

Your fear dissipated in an instant as you recognized the voice behind an unfamiliar mask. It was muffled and a bit deeper now, but you vividly remembered that playful lilt.

You uttered his name as he took off his mask.

The black eyes and faint pupils shocked you, but other than that…yes, this man was your friend! His nose and cheeks were tinged with red from the cold just like how it always used to be. His pale blonde hair was a bit longer and fell into his face now. And the smile that was growing on his chapped lips was the same one that always greeted you when you showed up at the cabin.

“It’s you! It’s really you!” he laughed, tears in his eyes. His long and boney arms enveloped you in a tight hug that you could barely reciprocate. “You disappeared…I nearly forgot you…but you’re here!”

Now you were crying as well, but with a smile. “I’m sorry…I didn’t want to leave,” you sniffled. You didn’t mind that the snow was getting into your jacket. “My parents believed living in the city would be better for me, but I missed you every single day!”

He held you tightly as he somehow managed to stand up in his stilts. “I missed you too,” he breathed, his voice shaking. “Let’s go.”

The cabin was very rundown now compared to the cozy image in your mind. But as Ithaqua—that is what he told you to call him now—lit the fire, it looked the same in that moment. He was still unnaturally tall without his stilts. What happened to him? you wondered.

Those thoughts were pushed away as Ithaqua sat down next to you with a chipped mug of tea. Your numb fingers accepted it gratefully. “I missed almost getting frostbite and having to warm up in front of a fire,” you half-joked.

“And we would have this blanket on us,” Ithaqua added, gesturing to the ratty and faded blanket across your laps. He was much too tall for it to be draped around both your bodies, so he opted to have an arm around your shoulders as an alternative.

You took a sip of the tea and sighed contentedly as its warmth coursed through your veins. “I purposely made us stay out longer just so that could happen,” you admitted with a coy smile.

Ithaqua giggled and held you closer. “I am glad you did that. I liked cuddling too.”

The snow fell faster and faster outside as you two continued to talk about each other’s lives—well, honestly, you were the one sharing the most. Ithaqua seemed like he didn’t want to talk about what he was up to, but you didn’t mind. You just liked seeing the look of adoration on his face as you talked.

“(Y/N), look,” Ithaqua said, pointing out the window. The snow was falling in a flurry now and had already started to build up on the windowsills. “You’ll have to stay here for the night…”

“That wouldn’t be so terrible,” you said as you finished the last drop of your tea. Another wish would be coming true—you had always wanted to spend a night in the cabin, but your parents would have certainly died of fright if you did not return. Play time was always short for that reason too. With the unpredictable snow, Ithaqua’s mother always fretted that you would be unable to return home on time.

Ithaqua’s smile widened. He instructed you to wait while he put out the fire and made the bed to the best of his ability. He killed the little bugs that were crawling around with quick stabs of his claws. And after cleaning those up, he picked you up like a cat and put you in the blankets.

“Hey, just because you’re taller than me now doesn’t mean you can carry me like that!” you said with a huff. He ignored your protest as he started gathering up his strange gear. “What are you doing?”

“I have to stand guard,” he stated. His voice had a bit of edge now. “No one will hurt you while you sleep.”

You shook your head, slightly confused and exasperated. “Ithaqua, you need to sleep too. Don’t think I didn’t notice the bags under your eyes,” you said. He blankly stared at you as if the thought had never occurred to him before. But he reluctantly put down his axe and joined you under the blankets. He got comfortable very quickly; within a minute, he was hugging you again.

“You’re warm now,” he said softly. “I forgot what it was like to have another person sleeping next to me.”

The bittersweet words didn’t affect the smile on your face. You could barely see his, except for the faint glint of his pupils. “Itha,” you said, testing out a new nickname, “what if we lived together?”

“Not in the village or the city, right?”

“Of course not. I meant here,” you said with a giggle. “I’ve always wanted to come back to you the first chance I got. I hated living by myself. And now that I’m here…I don’t want to leave you again.”

You could practically feel the joy radiating off of Ithaqua. “I would love nothing more,” he chuckled. His fingers ran through your hair. “We can do everything together again. Even if it’s too childish for us now. We can handle anything that comes our way…”

“You’ve become overprotective,” you teased. Whatever else you were going to say was interrupted by Ithaqua’s lips pressing against your forehead. You were struck with a childhood memory yet again—the last time you and Ithaqua had seen each other until today.

The boy and his big blue eyes were looking at you longingly as you turned to leave for the night. Neither of you had known that you would be leaving for a new home tomorrow. But maybe he sensed something was off. He ran to you and clumsily kissed your forehead. “Come back soon, (Y/N)!” he said desperately.

“(Y/N), you’re so precious to me. You don’t even know,” Ithaqua whispered, continuing to pepper your forehead in kisses. It didn’t matter that they were a bit sharp because of his chapped lips. Each one filled you with warmth until you were practically melting. “My best friend…”

It was a little embarrassing being doted on like this. Not even your parents were this overbearing with their affection.

Oh, well. It was Ithaqua, so you didn’t mind. His kisses eased your worries and eventually made you drift off to sleep. And before you were fully unconscious, you heard him whisper the words that affirmed your decision to stay with him:

“I love you.”

[futuristicanoe]

nightfall's descent

When you're observing me, who do you think I'm observing?

This time, it is you, who's been left wide awake for far too long.

mature themes; implied insomnia, age gap, issues. nsfw content, but there is no actual smut.

The crackle of thick paper crumpling in your hands makes Alex’s arm twitch. It must be very late, or very early, it is hard to tell the difference because the sun has already gotten into the habit of being distant at all times. It is cold. The outside world is freezing, all shades of blue and uncomfortable.

He is snoring softly. Lying on his stomach, one leg bent, his face is squashed against his forearm. He would feel his eyelashes tickle his skin if he were to open his eyes, that’s how bad it is. He looks relaxed, almost miraculously so. His stubbly chin rests on his other hand and it makes you smile. You are not sure if there is an actual smile on your face right now, but it makes something deep in your chest pulse with aching fondness and that is enough. More than anyone else could make you feel just by existing, that is for sure.

You can’t sleep.

This is normally his problem. It’s not that your sleep schedule is divine, but he needs much more sleep than you do, you have come to find out. He’ll never pass an opportunity to take a nap. On the sofa, on his favourite armchair, sitting at the dinner table —

it is, a breathy whisper of “tired today...” when he stretches his arms and sighs, then yawns and his eyes are visibly more droopy by the time he closes his mouth. Or, “I am gonna need to rest me mind after this...” when you ask him to stir the pot and he can’t tear his gaze away from everything swirling and spinning effortlessly. You know, you always know, you are gonna find him later just like this. Heavy and content, snoring softly.

Alex will do anything to avoid going to bed alone.

The unexpectedness of it had caught you off-guard at first, making you wonder what else you had assumed wrongly about him. He says he does not wanna get used to it, sleeping alone, because he has a habit of turning things into habits, and that has never been a good thing. You take it as a compliment, really, when he waits for you like a good little pet, and you didn’t even need to teach him a thing. To be more specific, it makes you want to grab him and kiss him all over, eat him up in bruising bites, and isn’t that just the best thing you could do for him? He has everything else, doesn’t he? Money, reputation, even love — adoration, fascination, obsession, — might not be the healthiest forms of love, sure, but it’s still much more than you ever got.

He is always tired after making love, too.

Making love, apparently that is what you call it now. It is just what it feels like. It’s not the bad kind of love, either. Everything he touches turns to gold, and you are just happy to be underneath him, on top of him— he is never out of reach. You are never out of his head.

It feels like a privilege to see him this way.

You put your sketchbook to the side, shutting it closed and instinctively holding your breath for a mere second to hear the soft click it makes. You reach out for him with your hand, the one you had been holding your pencil and smudging the ink with. It makes your skin rough like ash would, although, it could not be more obvious how this is not ash or dust, not the remnants of finality, but rather the opposite of it — you wanted to draw him. Couldn’t sleep, and observing him like this is as close as you can get to dreaming without shutting your eyes and falling backwards into the darkness people call “sleep”... but, no... sleep isn’t like this...

This is not still and lifeless, it is pretty radiant here.

”Dreamland?” Oh, yes. This is it.

Bizarre, pretty, yours.

Your fingers touch the softness of his eyebrow, and his eyes tremble slightly, before he sighs and moves his head to the side a bit. His eyebrows furrow. So expressive, even in sleep, even when everything outside is cold and grim, it makes your lungs ache and rattle your ribcage a tiny bit.

Nothing new.

He is mostly bare underneath the covers, you are pretty sure.

A small part of his thigh is exposed from how his leg is bent. Firm, yet soft, kissable. You pull back the covers slightly to see his knee and– there it is. The bruise.

You had bitten him in the afternoon.

He was busy coming back down to earth. You had kept him all safe and tender in your mouth for long enough to make some part of him believe in the sacredness of this thing. That it wasn’t fucking or any kind of animalistic instinct when he held your head down and an obscene noise escaped his throat. Without his permission, too, he always tries to be quiet when your mouth is full of him. As an act of showing empathy, or maybe it would feel dangerously close to silencing you, and he doesn’t want to get used to that either.

The bruise makes his skin pretty like the sunset kissed it.

You lean down to kiss it now, softly, gently. He squirms.

“Hm?”

You watch his face as he slowly wakes up. Stretching modestly like a house pet.

“What time is it?” His voice sounds somehow even rougher than usual, you feel a shiver run through your spine.

“I don’t know.”

That sobers him up, for some odd reason, and his eyes search for your face. Alex holds a hand up before he drops it next to yours.

“I was waiting. For you to come back to bed when you got up in the middle of the night. But I couldn’t‐ could not keep my eyes open, you know? I tried, though...” his voice trails off into a quiet mumble. He is apologising for something you have never even mentioned or thought about.

“I know, Alex.”

“What are you doing?”

You pick up the sketchbook again, handling it with an air of carelessness that does not belong to you. As if this part of you, which you are holding in your hand, has somehow become less important now that he is watching.

“Nothing, really. I couldn’t sleep again.”

He moves closer to you, still on his stomach. Lazy boy.

“Wanna show me?”

Your hesitation is undeniably palpable and thick in the air, he could cut it with a knife. You’d pay him to do that if he could.

Your numb fingers grip your sketchbook a tad bit tighter, with his sleepy eyes following the movement, he takes a deep breath.

“I want to see, love.”

Alex looks more awake now than he did when he woke up in the morning. He loves the sun, but it is not always there for him. It is cold now, even in the morning. Especially in the morning. Still dark, still freezing, and you weren’t there. It felt like the day after a perfect day, and he woke up not with a hazy, blurry mind but a very clear head and thoughts so sharp that they hurt.

He grows amusedly suspicious when your eyes widen with hesitation. This is not the first time.

“Is it– mmm–“ his voice turns into a soft croon, the cartoonish quality of it making his own eyes twinkle. “Is it me? In there...?”

“Huh?”

“Were you drawing me?”

You let out a huff at the accusation. “I've not drawn anything for so long. And it is literally just a rough sketch, I don’t even like it. I’m not trying to hide, it is not a–“

“But it is mine, isn’t it?” He crawls again, just wanting to be closer to you. He does this thing, getting closer to you so you can hear him more clearly, instead of just raising his voice like everybody else does. He is pressed up against your form now with a smirk on his face. Only a second or three passes as he is observing you, expecting you to hand over the sketchbook, and then he is chuckling, his face scrunching up. “Are you hiding me from myself? Come on... that is my job.”

You can’t help but laugh with him. “You always say I see you somewhat differently, though... I wouldn’t want to end up making a fool of myself or whatever it is that I'm so afraid of."

Something glimmers in his eyes, just a subtle flicker of it, and it is almost as if he never slept, once again. “Never have I said that to you.”

“Not to me, maybe, no... Does it matter?”

“Are you– hold on, tell me when was the last time you slept properly, and don’t lie.”

You almost comment on his tone, but you decide to answer him, only to realize that you can not.

His eyebrows furrow, and he sits up. It is difficult to handle this, you don't think you are ever gonna get used to it. Being so close, he looks too real. His skin is shiny under the moonlight, the tan is gone, pale again from the way he has succumbed to solitary lifestyles similar to those they teach you about in the bible. His scent... Cigarettes, is it? Something bitter-sweet and addictive like thick honey on his skin, too, and it ought to make you crave more when you let your teeth cut loose.

Not again... what was he talking about?

“Honey?”

You look at him. Alex. Al. God, he is going to get actually old one day, isn’t he? You almost wish he isn’t. You almost wish you had met him when he was younger, he could have broken your heart that way, the casual way, it certainly would have been easier. All kinds of leather were tight over his muscles back then, hair slippery and tousled and apparently perfect. Dark, but shiny like jet, steel, something solid and useful. Something you definitely wouldn’t have seemed, if you had been the one standing next to him in those messy, flashy polaroids and countless paparazzi shots.

You always had this thought about how his hair and his leather jackets shone the same way, and that thought used to make you giddy then almost teary. At least you never forgot how to fantasise and daydream about and do everything but avoid men like him, because he is actually right here now and he is... different.

“Yes.” You talk in a whisper, your voice soft and quiet like the rustling of your sheets underneath him as he shifts to caress your neck with a gentle hand.

“Where did you go?”

“I’m here.”

“Hmm. Yes, you are. I believe you now.” Alex hums, smiles. Looking thoughtful for a second before his face is hovering over yours, and he leans down to press a kiss to your neck. There is a hushed mumble against your skin. You nudge his shoulder.

“Honeysop,” he mumbles again, but this time, a giggle makes his voice sound chirpy.

“What the fuck?”

“I said... I’ve got a new nickname for you.” Alex looks down at you. (Studying your face with the expression of a man who knows he doesn’t have to tell his kid that Santa Claus isn’t real or something along those lines.)

You smile — a toothy, sweet thing to make his eyes shine even brighter. You can not help but notice the way his chain is dangling from his neck. Why must every single part of him shine like that? You touch it gently, soft fingertips warm against the cool metal. There are tiny pink marks left on his chest from how the chain had pressed into his skin in sleep. You find it soothing to watch it rock back and forth above you, and you are very sure that he is amused by that fact.

Suddenly, you find your voice again. “I think, had this been some other time, any other time, I would have asked you to fuck me right here. You know, it’s midnight, you are all just the perfect amount of wound up and silly. I can’t sleep. But... can I...” You impulsively kiss the tip of his nose just because it is the part of him closest to your lips. His eyes are wide and sweet, intrigued.

“You could pose for me... I want to draw you. And when I’m done, I won’t hide it from you, no... I could even draw it in your notebook. I know you prefer the ones with blank pages, I do, too.” Alex ducks his head slowly, listening intently, but all of a sudden, too busy leaving loving bites on your throat and pressing his lips against your heart. You grab his hair firmly, hoping to keep his eyes fixated on you.

“Then I’ll let you fuck me. I want–," You giggle when his stubble tickles the softness of your chest accidentally, but you keep going. He can feel your heart thumping faster and faster. "I want you too tired and distracted after you're done, just– too stupid to care for finding whatever the hell I drew in there. Be- because God knows it is gonna be horrible, Al, don't even..."

Alex grabs your face with a firm hand, his thumb digging into the skin near your mouth and the rest of his fingers wrap tightly around your jaw.

"Shhhhh... dove..."

You whimper quietly at his cooing, the contrast between his soft murmurs and the strength in his hand causes your mind to get filthier with each breath. And not just your mind, really, you would be pressing your thighs together right now if he wasn't straddling them so rudely. He presses his cheek against yours, his mouth just hovering over your ear. Tilting his head back for a few seconds, just to see your pretty earring up close. It makes him smile, even though he can barely make it out of the darkness.

"You've got to stop it, love, stop hiding. I need to keep seeing you, all of it, okay?"

You nod the best you can, chest trembling and hips twitching from the intensity of his words. Alex keeps hushing you as his touches travel down your torso, stopping at the waistband of your underwear. Tracing the hem, tapping his blunt fingernails over your stomach like he might do to the strings of a guitar he's yet to be familiar with.

Alex sits back, pulling away from you entirely with a huff. He grabs your sketchbook from where you left it earlier. A twitch in his bicep and a weary sigh on his lips, as if he's been forced to pick up some of kind of evidence.

You try to touch his knee, or just any part of him that you can possibly reach, but your fingers accidentally curl over him right where a bruise is still blooming and tender on his thigh and he hisses.

Cool cat... or is he, really?

It is something of a blur after that. Like you pressed a button and you are waiting to find out if it was the good one or not.

Alex takes your sketchbook and lets the poor thing covered in charcoal marks rest in the drawer of your nightstand.

The sheets he has tangled himself in bother him way too much. And they smell like you, as always, it is messing with his head right now and more importantly, it makes him want to mess with yours. He pushes them away, your relentless pawing at the worn white fabric anything but helpful.

Alex tugs at your shirt to pull it up, too, so he isn't the only one feeling cold and exposed. He clutches your waist, settling lower on the bed this time and resting his cheek on your hip. You can feel his chain touch you. He looks up.

"This– can you feel it?" He gently caresses, presses down on your lower tummy with his fingers, before moving his face slightly and planting a soft kiss right there. "This is where I need to be."

Just that sentence, the last one — it makes you cry out, your shaky hand coming down to grip his hair.

"No need for any... paper or ink or cameras. It is just us, dove. Even put the sketchbook away for you, so just let me, huh? It'll feel much better, 'cause it is more special."

A muffled keen leaves your lips when he starts to slowly slide your underwear down your legs. You didn't even realize you were biting down on your knuckles until now. Until you see the red mark you have left on your hand and the string of saliva connecting your parted mouth to it.

Alex stops when he hears the desperate noise you make, frowning. Something felt off. He lies down beside you now. Face to face. His touches turning delicate and patient, instead of demanding. "What's wrong?" He asks, sweet and every single thing that makes your heart ache all over again. He strokes your cheek, gentle warmth spreading over the parts he had grabbed and got a bit close to bruising earlier. Your eyes grow softer and so does his.

"I'm cold, Al. But if you put a blanket over me... I'm gonna get sleepy, too."

He kisses your lips once. A reward for not hiding from him again, perhaps.

Alex studies your hazy gaze for a moment. He grabs the blanket you had apparently used as a pillow when you hopped on his bed a few hours ago. Pecks your collarbone, covering the both of you with that warm blanket and he smiles as you move lazily to curl up against him properly.

It is easy for him to adore the way you cling to him, let out a soft noise when you are shifting to your side and swinging your leg over his, remembering that the only thing you are wearing is your shirt not exactly right on time.

"Pardon me, if I sound too crude, but..." He chuckles against your neck, the sound scratching his throat. "You were– well, are, fucking dripping, girl."

You giggle. "What was that word? Ah, yeah. Honeysop."

"You are ridiculous." He shakes his head and tuts when you try to move away from him, wrapping an arm around your torso and hugging you even closer than before. "No. No hiding, stay here."

There is a soft smile on your face, your mind full of fuzzy, messy bits and you are sure that feeling his warm breath on your skin must be something from your personal heaven.

Your voice comes out as a quiet, soft murmur. "I don't know what it is, but, sometimes you say things in a certain way and it just... there is this moment after I hear you, when I feel as if you could do anything you wanted to me and it would– nothing else could possibly be better than that."

Alex kisses your temple, carding his fingers through your hair. "That's a lot."

You squirm. "Maybe that's what makes it special... no? You said it was–"

"You pay a lot of attention to what I say, you know? I think that's exactly what makes it special." Another kiss. "That I trust you to see me... like I want to be seen. Not differently, you used that word, and I got a bit silly over it. It's never about differences between us. I try not to make it about them, at least."

"Always had a thing for that," you say, a bitter-sweet tint to your tone. "Contrasting subjects, juxtaposition... maybe that's why I got into painting, too. And oh, yes, there we have another difference for us to avoid admitting to, I guess," you laugh.

"Is this funny to you? Or are you just... amused by it?"

"Why?"

"You are laughing."

"I'm tired."

He could close his eyes and he would still be able to see the smile and that hidden yawn in your voice.

Alex sighs, delighted.

"I guess you're just gonna have to sleep now, then, honeysop."

[yuwuta]

can you assign other jjk charcters a/b/o? Like yuuta, nanami or megumi? I wanna know your heacannons

absolutely, i have thought about this extensively lmfaooo

omega satoru, but also alpha satoru works, too (tho, i am biased and learn more towards omega for him). he uses the power/influence he has to draw attention and whine about how you should be his mate. omega satoru is so unbelievably insufferable and pathetic in trying to get your attention, and then incredibly cocky and a show-off to everyone once you’re mates. alpha satoru is the wet paper equivalent of a man once he has you, he will literally bend to your every command, there is nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you happy, and yet, still, also incredibly cocky. either way, he’s the scariest. as an omega, he uses it as an excuse—bats his eyelashes and feigns innocence for attacking someone he considered a threat; as an alpha, he doesn’t feel sorry and nobody tries to get him to apologize, unless they’d also like to be on the receiving end of that treatment. also terribly horny no matter what, he is always ready to go

megumi fits all the roles in my head, so honestly, it depends on you. as an alpha he’s very nonchalant, and begrudgingly accepts his role. tho, he is possessive; he tries not to let it show/let that take over him, but it’s sort of always there and peeps through even if he doesn’t intend to. he doesn’t feel the need to glare at other alphas or be the strongest of them all, but he does like to nip at you, to make sure you smell like him at least a little bit, and he does keep an eye on you even if you’re perfectly safe. as a beta, he’s kind of apathetic to the whole mating situation and being part of a group. he’s drawn in by others—if you, or yuuji, or nobara convince them, then he’ll go along with it, and usually ends up liking it, but he wouldn’t try to seek out new people or experiences. you’d have to be the one to approach him first. as an omega, he’s not all that different as an alpha—he’s still possessive, but maybe a bit more forthcoming and shameless about it. he doesn’t pout or go crazy if you’re affectionate with your mutual friends, but he’s not nearly as nonchalant about you being close to strangers. it’s not paranoia, or distrust in you, it’s quite literally, pure, shallow possessiveness driving him—he’s your omega, and he wants your attention. and he wants to have it when he wants it. and he’s not above biting you to get it 

alpha kento…. just fell to my knees. he was born for this. he’s a very level-headed alpha; very rarely swayed by his own emotions, or preconceived alpha notions, and is aware of how his presence can affect others. he never uses his status to intimidate—honestly, he’s intimidating enough without being an alpha—he keeps a respectable distance from unmated omegas, he uses scent blockers, he doesn’t engage in petty arguments, nor does he boast just because he has the power to. extremely dependable, all of his friends feel safe with him, and are physically drawn to him even if it’s not sexually. you’ve found satoru and haibara cuddled up, asleep on either of nanami’s shoulders on more than one occasion—and nanami, immune to it all, just carries on reading his book. the only thing that really ticks him off, gets the stereotypical alpha drive going is the mention of children—especially, when other alphas try to come on to you by saying how lucky they’d be to have someone like you carry their kids. then, kento’s not above knocking someone’s teeth out. even when your friends make off-handed comments asking about if/when you’ll have kids, kento can be found snarling. it’s truly his weak spot, and it sort of embarrasses him because he seems to have no control over it, he just knows he doesn’t want anybody else but him thinking about you that way. also maybe that repressed breeding kink of his who said that 

yuuta’s an alpha to me <3 the kind that nobody suspects at first, but give him a moment to shine and it’ll all come through. he doesn’t care to come across as intimidating, but he’s undeniably at his strongest when he has his loved ones to protect, and there are so few things he wouldn’t do to keep them safe. he’s intensely loyal and protective, and takes it personally when anybody infringes upon the safety or comfort of his loved ones. you’ve seen him throw people against walls for picking on toge, seen him break another alpha’s arm because they were trying to intimidate nobara, seen yuuji and maki have to pull him off a guy solely because of the way he’d spoken to you. but if that’s not the case, and there’s nothing/nobody to rouse the aggressive alpha behavior out of him, yuuta’s the one who’s easily intimidated. when you or his friends aren’t in the picture, he doesn’t care to interact with other alphas, he finds himself feeling small and anxious; he’s gullible and always the subject of pranks within your friend group despite his alpha status; he’s shy and sometimes still stutters around you, no matter how long you’ve been together. he’s pretty malleable and not at all what you’d think of as an “alpha,” until there’s a threat nearby and he’s ready to kill someone with his bare hands. 

alpha yuuji agenda and no i’m not biased <333 he’s the kind that feels the need to provide for the people in his life. he cooks, he cleans, he lifts all the heavy boxes, he picks you up and walks you home, he’s the perfect alpha, but yuuji strives for it. he’s conscious about bettering himself and how he can use his strength and skills to serve you. he wants to be the perfect mate, but for you and you alone. lots of things come naturally to yuuji, but he’s intentional in how he treats you, and how how to be a good alpha for you. like satoru, he’s honestly more of a puppy when he’s with you, one that preens for attention and smothers you when he’s happy. and he’s very moody when he doesn’t get that attention, or when somebody else is trying to take it from him. he’s nice and all, but he’s still an alpha with a temper at the end of the day. he’s the definition of “you should see the other guy,” whenever he comes out of a fight. 

it doesn’t matter whether toge’s an alpha, a beta, or an omega, his true sub-gender is a professional brat and part-time troll. attention-seeking 24/7, gaudy with his tactics for getting your attention and then pouty whenever you’re not paying attention to him, even if it’s for a few minutes. bites. all the time, always. doesn’t even leave hickies, he leaves teeth marks. literal indentations along your arm or on your wrist or your shoulder just because he’s that much of a brat, and needs some outlet for his possessive nature. also, doesn’t have a humble bone in his body, he’ll let everyone know you’re his partner and that he’s hitting it raw because god forbid he have any tact. terrible. 

choso is like yuuji in that he strives to provide and tailor himself to being a good mate for you, but the omega version of it. choso knows what he’s good at, but he also knows he’s got his whole life to learn, and he doesn’t think there’s a better way to spend it than learning how to be good for you. he takes care of all the things you have to put off because of a busy schedule, he runs all the little errands you forget about, he learns to sew so he can easily hem your clothes, he learns to cook your favorite meals, he learns to paint so he can take care of that accent wall you dream about, hell, he’ll even learn to how to do your hair if it saves you a trip to the salon. choso will do, or learn to do anything for you; no skill is too small, no task is too detailed. he strives to be everything you need in a partner, because he doesn’t ever want to give you reason to resent or regret making him your mate :(( also… horny. all the time. always. yeah, he does these things for you, to make you happy, but he’s not above being rewarded for it, either 😇

[siphoklansan]

In the meantime, have my sister as a TWST wonderland character!

design notes ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

IRL, my sister and I look pretty alike! But I guess it depends on each person. Some people think we don’t look alike at all while others think we look like twins :O! Our height doesn’t really differ either. I tried to incorporate some of Sippy’s qualities (physical appearance vibes) but my sister and I have completely different aesthetics qwq

Piggybacking from the first point, my sister is a coquette girl. She literally looks like a pinterest girl- like Sabrina Carpenter vibes. If I were to describe her properly, I’d say she’s Princess Aurora but as a brunette!

My sister, we’ll call her Allim, has really long eyelashes (especially the bottom ones like gah dayum) so I made sure to add that in the piece!

She really likes pink and ruffles, so I added those as well! I want her to look pretty and cute without leaning towards Epel’s look, so I made her look kind of like a business woman…coquette style.

Fun fact: her ear rings is what she wears daily irl! It’s a gift from her friend💖

others ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

You guys might notice the Savannaclw Armband. And if you’re wondering, yes, she’s sorted into Savannaclaw!

She’s not in the TWST fandom, but I let her read an analysis of each dorm-sorting-requirements and let her choose which one she’d be most fitting in. I guess it would be Pomefiore because istfg her face card never declines but chile anyways-

Imagine how surprised I was when she said, “I think I’ll be in Savannaclaw☺️” and I’m like WHAT-

Cuz imagine a coquette girl in a place like SAVANNACLAW NJDHDSUHFSUBVOSII THE THOUGHT OF IT IS SO FUNNY TO ME😭 Just a brunette Aurora walking in with bulky beastmen running laps around the dorm n shit. But I do believe that she fits that dorm. Just…not aesthetically💀 She was in the R.O.T.C once so I think she’d do pretty well knowing the dorm.

I initially wanted to draw her with the dorm uniform but BY GOD IT IS NOT COQUETTE GIRL FRIENDLY. I’ll draw that one day once I figured out the design </3

She’s really good at cooking and has a main business; she sells cookies! Her slogan is “Cookie 20 Brownie 25” in Thai. That’s why she says it in the second panel of this post! Her cookies sell out within 3 days at MAX. She has an online shop in shoppee but only sells within the country at the moment :,))

[fluffygiraffe]

PJ and Sparkles's Official Reference 2.0!

I DID IT! Both of them, side by side!!! Now it looks good too :).

Drawing Rules + Info!

PJ

11'7 (w/o hat + antennae)

That's a bell on his bow. Please. please I've seen it misdrawn so many times I'm going to burn down an orphanage plEASe- /sillyj /nm

His antennae can bend any way he wants! You can make any shape with it. :3.

Kitty mouth or no mouth. Always needs a kitty mouth.

Cheeks, cheeks touching the top of his mouth, eyelashes, and mouth connecting to the bottom/edge of the screen are mandatory! :D

His mouth doesn't really open, so I recommend not drawing him with an open mouth.

Those are ball joints.

Don't remove his hat, please.

PJ's arms are not fabric. They are flocked silicone, so please keep this in mind!

Three bumps on arms only. Please :3.

Silly arm-wrist things and neck fluff aren't mandatory, but I'd love if if you drew it.

Don't flip the Star Symbol. Ever. You don't want Her upset with you.

Everything else can mostly be changed to fit your style! :3333

Sparkles

3'2 (w/o antennae)

Antennae cannot be bent. They're supposed to look like ears!

Whiskers are mandatory, only three whiskers.

Eyes are never open.

Never depict her as upset. Angry and Happy are her only emotions. She does not have enough brain cells to be upset. <3

That's about it. :3

Basic Lore:

PJ!

Unlike Mr. Puzzles, PJ watched every children's show that existed!.. And not much else. Due to this, instead of Five Stars, his goal is to befriend the SMG4 crew and teach them how to be good friends by teaching them lessons he's seen in the cartoons he's watched! And maybe he'll befriend everyone else in the Mushroom Kingdom. That would be a nice little bonus! He wants to make them Happy as well, but what's the harm in that..? He's only helping them! Trust me! He doesn't mean any harm!.. But he causes it anyway.

PJ's cutesy, sweet, and oh-so nice! He just wants to play and make friends with everyone! MaybespreadHerWordaswellifthey'dliketohear. He usually keeps a cheery happy persona, and is super cuddly and sweet! He'd LOVE to give you a hug! But this doesn't mean PJ's not prone to other emotions. He gets easily frustrated and upset, and his heart is oh-so brittle. Be nice to him, wontcha? Wouldn't want to make him upset.

Don't worry, PJ can't hurt you! He has safety features which keeps him from hurting anything Fully Human or Fully Animal! Anything that doesn't classify normally in either of these two classifications or something in between is Fair Game. What? Who said that? Hmm, seems it was nothing. But anyway, PJ wouldn't hurt a fly! Nor would he want to! :). Though, this doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful! Under that silicone and fluffy material, he's got Metal Bones. Don't play rough, now!

PJ loves and encourages escapism, every form of it! Ignoring, forgetting, forcefully removing it from your brain, all of it's perfectly fine to him! He'll even help you if you let him! He may even show you a new way of getting rid of all those icky imperfections if you let him! How nice of him! Don't you love your Best Friend?

PJ sees himself as the good guy in this situation and doesn't understand that he's doing bad by doing all the things he does. He's helping and not hurting, after all! Western Spaghetti and Wotfi 2023 weren't exactly his fault, he didn't know the other's intentions with his best friends. And he didn't know It's Gonna Be Perfect would go Oh So Wrong... It went all out of his control. He didn't want this to happen. He never wanted his friends to get hurt. But what's a good guy without flaws? He'll fix himself! And he'll fix the crew too! Happy smiles all around without any responsibility for the rest of time; as long as they let him help!

Why don't they... Like him though?

PJ's been nothing but nice. Why are they so mean to him? They hurt him. They beat him. They yell, scream, and fight him. He tried so many times, but they kept hurting him. This isn't fair. They forgive each other for mistakes, and yet, they don't forgive him? The one that's trying to make it better? The one that's trying to make them better? They don't even know of Her Word. What's to come to all of them. What's to come for everyone. Every universe. How ignorant.

Useless to fight. Useless to cry. Oh so useless. All of it. They don't deserve to feel such emotions or think such thoughts. Maybe it's better if PJ takes it all away from them, so they can be the best people they'll ever be without flaw or hurt. A smile on their face! All because of their Best Friend, PJ. They'll be thankful, PJ knows that much. They'll love him, realize what they've done wrong, and just let him do as he needs with their minds. As it all should be. He'd let them do the same if he knew they wouldn't take advantage of him.

This is how you. Treat friends. Right?

...

Of course, it is! They just need to learn how to treat friends properly! Silly billes! :3.

Sparkles!

Who's that making her way over oh-so slowly? Look! It's Sparkles!

Sparkles is PJ's Kit-TV, and she's often not seen because PJ makes extra care that she's not hurt by the meanie crew! They don't know how to treat each other, so they most likely don't know how to treat his kitty.

Sparkles used to be a normal kitty a long while ago, but due to being really hurt and weak when Winston PJ found her, PJ put her in a TV, altered it, and saved her! Don't worry, her Quality of Life is lots better! Although she can't walk fast, she's got all the wet food she could want, all the kitty toys she could want, a safe little carpeted room in The Playhouse with a baby camera inside to make sure she's always safe, and all the love from PJ she could ever desire!

Although she seems like a sweet kitty, be careful! She's EVIL!! Eviler than any Mr. Puzzles combined! Gasp!.. What evil things could she do, you ask? Well! She BITES FINGERS! Dun dun DUUUN! Don't worry, her teeth are silicone, and can't pierce through your skin. Or. Anything, actually. Which is the reason PJ makes her specialized wet food. :).

PJ used her as the basis for the Adware in It's Gonna Be Perfect! (not it's gotta be perfect, this change is purposeful. That's for later, though.) And, although Sparkles could talk perfectly full sentences there, all Sparkles can do is make a very loud "MEW!" outside your computer screen. And she's not very smart either.

Speaking of her mews...Sparkles is VERY vocal! Her bitcrushed mews are VERY loud! Careful of your ears! :3.

... someverypowerfulcharactersthoughtit'dbefunnytomakeherimmortal.so.nowsheis. not to mention a few more powers i can't get into here. watch for me, you will see me again.

Her body is metal, though she has a few sensors on the top of her head, the sides of her body, and the bottom of her TV! Which means you can pet her with her feeling it! Isn't that sweet?

Sparkles can't open her eyes, but she can see!... Kind of. You see, her eyesight is very poor. She will run into walls... And legs... And everything. And she can't exactly turn around fast to avoid these things. Hence, the room PJ carpeted for her.

Next time you hear the pitter-patter of silicone paws on the ground with a very loud "MEW!" behind it, say hi to her!.. And give her back to PJ, she isn't meant to escape-!

~

wwwwoah. This is. lots. whoops, hehe.

Well! Hope you like it!