#so really interesting that he had such a keen grasp

[stinkythehutt]

looking at how george lucas writes anakin in the prequels, it’s actually quite interesting what an understanding he seems to have of complex trauma & particularly of attachment trauma and how that manifests in a person’s adult life - not just in the big moment in ROTS but also broadly running through anakin’s characterisation throughout AOTC and beyond - especially as this kind of detailed understanding really didn’t enter the public lexicon until the last decade or so. he kind of ate that up

[sugoroo]

ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, obsessive behaviour, pervy geto, stalking, penetration (p in v), doggystyle, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, hints of yandere, 18+ minors dni.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who notices you the moment you first attend one of his classes, immediately singling you out among the small group of his regulars laying down their mats.

he's never seen someone so young and pretty in his studio before — most of his customers were married middle-aged women old enough to be his mother. but not you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who takes a very keen interest in you from that very first session, his sharp gaze never leaving you for long each time you come in. to his dismay, however, you always take the spot right at the back of the room, meaning he has to crane his neck around all of the gossiping older ladies to get a good look at you. hmm, that won't do.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who keeps you behind one day after a class, subtly suggesting that you move closer to the front so he can 'get a clearer look' at your progress. and if you catch on to the real reason he wants you closer, you don't say anything; so he assumes you bought the excuse. perfect.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who, once you begin working right at the front, gets more and more handsy as time goes on. what began as just a light brush of his fingers to improve your positioning turns into him fully grasping your hips to manoeuvre your body the way he wants.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who isn't oblivious to the jealous looks cast in your direction from the other women when he does this. he just pays them no mind; he's not interested in them, after all. only you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who finds himself becoming increasingly obsessed with you after each session, talking yoga instructor!gojo's ear off about how pretty you are and how utterly delicious the arch of your back is when he gets everyone to do the downward dog stretch.

his friend laughs but reminds him that it's strictly against the rules of the yoga studio to get involved with a customer (as if he cares about such trivial things like that.)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts insisting on you staying behind after every single class, claiming it would be good for you to have some one-on-one sessions with him to hone your skills. when you don't protest, he thinks you must either be completely clueless or into him just as much as he is you. he really hopes it's the latter.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who uses these private classes to get you to do various risqué positions for him that definitely aren't real yoga stretches. but what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

pervy yoga instructor!geto whose mood becomes sour once you stop attending his sessions. had he gone too far? did you think he was a creep? he didn't even care if you filed a report about him for his behaviour at this point — as long as it meant he got to see you at the subsequent meeting.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who only lasts a few weeks before he's rifling through the customer files in his office, yanking out your folder and scanning the page.

once he finds your address, he's in his car and on the way there, breaking every speed limit on the way. and before he even knows it, he's outside your house, peeking in through the window.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who spots you curled up on your couch, crying softly in front of the television while spooning ice cream into your pretty mouth. and suddenly, all his previous anger is replaced with concern. he hasn't even formed an excuse to explain why he's here before he's knocking on the door.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who hurriedly tells you that "it's company policy to check on customers who haven't attended sessions for a certain amount of time", mentally patting himself on the back when you seem to buy it and let him into your apartment.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who listens intently as you spill all the details about your cheating asshole of a boyfriend. so that's why you've been absent. but don't worry — he can make you forget all about that worthless scum. after all, he didn't deserve you anyway!

suguru could treat you so much better. and he will, if you let him.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who kisses your tears away, hushing you softly and whispering in your ear about how beautiful you are and how he's had his eye on you since you first entered his studio. (he leaves out the part where he's fucked his fist to the thought of you in those tight little yoga pants countless times. he doesn't want to scare you off!)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by running his hands over your perfect body he's been imagining touching just like this for so long, burying his head between your soft thighs and eating you out like it's his last meal until you're all nice and gushy.

he only stops when your tears of sadness turn into those of pleasure, until you're practically begging him to fuck you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by fucking you nice and slow on your couch in missionary, praising you over and over in that silken purr of his like you deserve. but soon enough he's flipping your body around, putting you in the yoga position that you always do the best for him; downward dog, ruthlessly rutting his fat cock into you from behind like an animal.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who has to use all of his willpower to make sure you cum on his cock first before he lets go himself, despite the fact he could've busted a nut the second he eased into your warm, tight little pussy.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who watches in silent satisfaction as his goopy cum oozes out of your abused cunt, quickly fingering it right back inside to make sure not a single drop goes to waste. "it's all for you, sweet baby." he murmurs, voice raspy and deep.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who effortlessly carries your exhausted body to your bedroom bridal style, cooing in your ear the entire way about how you're his now, and he's going to take such good care of you, his favourite girl.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

NEXT PART -> pervy lifeguard!gojo

[krazyyyyyy]

Forever Longing Solivan Brugmansia /Reader

Synopsis: A small glimpse into Sol's elementary life, where he abruptly meets the single most important person in his life...You

Warnings: Mentions of violence

Words: 2553

Notes: Don't know how many more of these I'll write, but I'm hoping to get around three more done if not a few more.

Hope you enjoy this short story <3

Children’s happy laughter echoed loudly throughout the playground, as they began to spill out of the school building; marking the beginning of their cherished recess time. Kids ran freely playing around with friends, swinging giddily on the swing sets, and continuously going up and down the slide.

Well, all the kids but one…

A young, small, and quiet Solivan stood far away from the other kids, staring at the ground at his feet, avoiding any eye contact with anybody within the area. He knew he didn’t fit in with the others, given his introverted nature, he was considered an outcast amongst his classmates. People tended to overlook him, barely acknowledging his presence even when they were standing right next to him.

He was used to it, though…. He had his drawing supplies and stuffed animals, the only things that really made him feel anything close to happiness. The stuffed animals would never judge him, and, they’d always be around to listen to him when he needed it, an idiosyncratic concept to him growing up in a loveless household.

A soft tap on his shoulder causes him to lift his amber gaze from the ground and into the familiar brown orbs of his teacher, Mrs. Baker. A woman with a skinny frame and curly auburn hair that just slightly exceeded her shoulders. It took everything within him not to scoff at her arrival. She was keen on pushing him towards being more sociable with the other kids, a goal that would always fail in his favor. So why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

 She crouched down to his height and spoke to him in her usual soft and steady voice, “Solivan, Why don’t you play with the others today? It seems they're playing a little game of freeze tag, doesn’t that sound like fun?” 

Solivan spared a short glance toward where the kids were running wildly at each other, while some others stayed frozen in place, showing signs of annoyance at being frozen; he retracted his gaze back to the ground shaking his head, mumbling a small “No”

Mrs. Baker smiled understandingly at the timid young boy before her, “I know it might seem scary, but give it a chance, you might like it more than you think.” She attempted one last time to try to convince the boy to open up, even if it was just a little.

The boy remained silent, having lost interest in the conversation completely and hoping that his teacher would simply give up and leave him alone for the rest of the recess period.

Thankfully, it seemed fate was on his side, as he heard his teacher sigh next to him before standing up and walking away to a different part of the playground to supervise a group of rather exuberant children. Leaving him alone at last.

The little raven-haired boy sat on the ground, back pressed against the steel fence that separated the playground from the busy streets that lay not far behind. Settling down, Sol pulled out a small sketchpad from his back pocket; a notebook that was filled page to page in his numerous doodles, which he usually did during class time to pass the time.

Pulling out a pencil, Sol began to doodle, head buried in the notebook; heavily embarked on the mini sketches that required his utmost attention. After a while, he finally cranes his head back to admire his work; his sketch was that of a small horse with a small sketched figure of him seated cheerfully on its back.

He beamed at the drawing, proud of his work. While marveling at the sketch, the notepad is quickly ripped from his grasp. Startled and confused, Sol snaps his head up to look at the culprits. Standing above him, were three kids, obviously much older than he was, possibly four grades above him.

Sol was quick to spring up to his feet to try to get the notebook back, but to no avail, as the blond boy who held the item towered over him. He held the sketchbook high above his head, so even if the little boy tried to jump for it, it would prove pointless in the end

“Give it back!” Sol shouted at the kids as he continued to try to reach for what he considered to be one of his only sources of comfort. All three of the boys laughed at him, “Aww, is the little weirdo gonna cry.” a boy with red hair teased, pointing at him.

“You drew yourself riding a horse? What are you, some kind of girl?” The blond boy jokingly flipped through the pages of the book, briefly observing its contents.

“Stop it!” When Sol tried to reach for his sketchbook once again, the blond boy laughed, before tossing the book over to another boy; then that boy proceeded to also flip through the book and laugh before also tossing it to the next boy. Sol found himself playing in this miserable game of monkey in the middle; a game where he could only watch as his book flew through the air above him, out of reach, with no hopes of ever reaching it.

Eventually, Sol got the courage to defend himself from these bullies, and with all the strength he could muster with his tiny form, he tried to shove the bully who had the sketchbook in his possession. But, the shove proved unhelpful, as the bully didn’t even move an inch.

Sol could barely catch his breath before he was harshly shoved to the ground. A sharp pain pulsed through his body as his back was met with the hard ground; Sol opened his eyes to notice that his sketchbook had fallen next to his body, the bully had more than likely dropped it in outrage at Sol’s sudden rebuke. Sol swiftly snatched the book off the ground and held it close to his chest, shielding it from the bullies.

Sol lay on the ground in a fetal position, with his back facing his bullies, arms still tightly wrapped around his sketchbook. There was a sudden sharp pain on his side as a bully directed a fierce kick toward the young boy; another boy directed a kick, of similar intensity, toward his other side, leaving the little boy only to whimper in pain.

The group of bullies continued to relentlessly kick the defenseless boy, not showing any hint of mercy toward him. Tears ran down Sol’s cheeks as he could only endure the endless kicks that the bullies threw at him. He closed his eyes and hoped the boys would soon grow bored with this and walk away, or maybe a teacher would notice this assault and interfere.

It felt like an eternity that the kicking would continue, he almost thought it would never end…

Until a loud voice rang out and suddenly the kick stopped.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Sol heard the unknown voice shout at the group of boys. He peeked from his position to glance at where the shouting came from; upon opening his eyes, he was met with his saviors back facing him as they spread their arms out wide to shield him away from the sight of the bullies.

“Get outta the way Pipsqueak! Or you're gonna be next!” He heard one of the bullies shout at the person before him. Sol noticed the stranger's visible shakiness as they stayed rooted in their spot in front of him; they were just as scared of these bullies as he was, yet they still chose to throw themselves in the middle just to protect him. He felt a surge of admiration for the stranger; this had been the first and only time someone stood up for him… his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

“No! I-I won't l-let you!” The stranger's words came out shuddered and breathy as if they were holding back tears. Luckily, their voice had been loud enough to possibly draw the attention of others nearby.

The twisted grins on the bullies' faces faded at the realization, and they looked around the area to see if anyone had caught the drift of what was happening.

“Shit!”  Was the last thing Sol heard from them, followed by the frantic pattering of feet in the grass as the bullies quickly fled the scene. Leaving behind two frightened kids as a result. 

Sol, who was still lying on the ground, breathed heavily, the fear coursing through his veins still running wild. He flinched when a blurry object suddenly came into his vision. As his vision slowly cleared, he noticed that the object was the outstretched hand of his savior; they looked down at him with a concerned expression, tears still lingering in the corner of their eyes.

Hesitantly, Sol took the hand, which helped pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit but managed to regain his balance with a bit of effort and help from the person next to him.

“Are you okay?” The stranger asked him, their voice a bit hoarse from all the yelling yet still holding a subtle gentleness to it. Sol looked at them for a second, before shyly shifting his gaze off somewhere else and slightly nodding his head.

They smiled, their gaze landing on the item that Sol continued to hold tightly to his chest. “What’s that?” They pointed out the sketchbook, which, unknowingly to them, had caused the whole ruckus that just happened moments ago.

“... It’s my sketchbook,” Sol murmured under his breath, keeping his gaze away from the person in front of him. He never did well talking to people, never mind kids his age, this person wouldn’t be any different.

Their eyes lit up as he spoke, “You draw?! I wanna see it! Can I see pretty, please?!”

 Sol was taken aback by their sudden interest in his sketchbook, his eyes were blown wide at them; he had never shown anyone his work before, nor had anyone ever asked to see it… this person was achieving a lot of firsts for him. He supposed he could show them, considering they had just saved him from a harsh beating.

“Umm… Okay.” Sol pulled the sketchbook from where it rested on his chest to hold it out between him and the stranger. He slowly navigated through the pages, properly allowing the person next to him to take in each piece of art. They were a bundle of excitement, commenting excitedly on almost every single little doodle in the book; it brought a small smile to Sol’s face, knowing that someone enjoyed his drawings just as much as he did.

“These are so good! You're so talented! Do you think maybe you can draw me something?” Sol felt his cheeks flush with an odd, unfamiliar warmth. They wanted him to draw something for them. Him? Out of all the people they could have asked? They wanted him to draw for them…

He fidgeted with the pages of the notebook in his hands, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, nervously. “Sure–”

“Wait! Before I forget, my name is Y/N!” They cheerfully cut him off, “What’s yours?” They talked a million words per second, which was a bit overwhelming, but Sol still found himself intrigued by them.

“My name is Solivan…” He spoke quietly, but loud enough for their newfound acquaintance to hear. “Solivan?” They tested his name out, “Well, Solivan from this day forward you are now my friend!” Sol stared at them dumbfounded. He never had a friend before, but didn’t think it would ever be this simple, yet here he was.

He didn’t get a chance to respond to their declaration when they continued to speak, “I’m thinking maybe a butterfly–No wait! A gecko… no…” They continued to list through a variety of animals, as Sol would stand and watch them in awe. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt some sort of connection to his new friend, it wasn’t unwelcome, but it was still strange.

“Oh, I got it! How about a dove? Mom says those are her favorite!” 

Sol raises an eyebrow at them.“Like the bird? Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” They cheer.

Sol only nods his head in response, but a smile remains on his face at their jubilation. He sees the opportunity to speak after your moment of triumph and takes it, “I-um… thank you… for helping me. Not many would’ve done the same.”

They shake their head at him with a smile,“ Don’t mention it. You needed help…so I helped!”, the sincerity in their tone set Sol at ease. He wondered if had truly been missing out. If other kids acted just like Y/N, then maybe talking to others wouldn’t be so bad.

A mature voice suddenly rang out through the playground, catching everyone's attention, “Kids, recess is over! Start lining up with your class!”

“Aww man!” The child next to Sol groans, “Just when we were having fun, too!”. If their definition of fun was getting nearly trampled by a couple of older students, then Sol supposes he had the time of his life… Not really, though, but meeting Y/N was a nice surprise.

Children from all around the playground started to depart, moving to their designated class lines. Y/N started to make their way toward their line before they stopped to turn around to look at Sol one more time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Solivan! Can’t wait to see the drawing!” And with that, the energetic second-grader gave him one last wave before running over to their class.

Sol gave them a little wave in return, watching as their figure got further and further away. It wasn’t long before he himself started making his way toward his own class, to continue the rest of his day. Of course, his attention wasn’t drawn toward that of his classwork, but rather that of the little dove drawing he spent the rest of the day drawing for that special someone he met.

~

Sol paid no mind as his art teacher rambled on and on about the importance of elements in art; his focus mainly on the small, worn-out sketch pad that lay open on his desk. He lazily drew his fingers along the delicate pencil marks of his old drawing from way back then.

Out of the drawings he had created during his entire childhood, that little dove that he drew for you in the second grade always held a special place in his heart. He remembers how bright your face lit up when he showed it to you the very next day; you insisted that he kept it in his sketchbook, under the circumstance that you get to view it anytime you want–which you would do on the daily.

He shifted his gaze from the paper to where you sat near the front of the classroom, trying your best not to fall asleep during the lecture. His heart ached for you to look at him the way you did when you were kids, now it was like he was a total stranger to you; another student who simply attended the same art class as you.

But with time, you’d eventually grow aware of his existence, you’d have too.

After all, you were his soulmate, just as he was yours.

[prythianpages]

Just A Girl | Eris x Rhysand's Sister

series masterlist | summary: Your father throws a ball in your honor. When Beron belittles you, you decide to show him what you're capable of, catching the attention of his firstborn.

word count: 2K

a/n: Hi guys! It's been a hot minute since I've written anything and I feel rusty lol (kinda like when you stop riding your bike and have to relearn type of feel.) Anyway, this is entirely based off no doubt's just a girl bc I felt like it gave off Rhys's sister vibes and then I thought why not incorporate this into an au I had planned for an Eris x Rhys's sister one shot??

“When I’m High Lord, I’ll go–”

“I’m sure you’ll go far,” you interrupt, a half smile playing on your lips as you look up at the first born of Spring. With his luscious blond hair, striking green eyes, and well-defined jawline, he's undeniably a sight to behold. Unfortunately, his personality doesn't match his looks—dull yet somehow arrogant and miserably misogynistic. 

You don’t have it in you to spare him a moment longer, especially not when his overbearing pride is becoming overwhelming for your senses. You push past the desire to call upon your abilities and manipulate his emotions into something more humbling. He is not worth exposing your powers.

With a pat on his shoulder–too harsh for his liking– you add, “and I really hope you stay there. It was nice speaking with you, Heathen.”

“It’s Heath.”

You give an uninterested hum before making your way to the refreshments table, desperate for something to soothe the tension between your brows. A silent prayer is sent to the Cauldron that no other male approaches you with a lame attempt at conversation. If they are interested in you, they should at least be able to hold a good one. One that doesn’t incorporate any microaggressions toward you.

Fortunately for you, it is your brother who approaches you next. He takes your–what was it? fourth or sixth, you can’t remember– champagne flute from your grasp with an effortless ease. A glare settles upon your features as you watch him chug it before fixing your gaze straight ahead, to the dais where your father and mother sit. 

Your father occupies the grand throne, while your mother sits beside him in a smaller, less ornate chair. The Lady of the Night Court—magnificent and burdened with countless responsibilities—receives none of the praise that is lavished upon your father. Despite her contributions to your court, she is not held in the same regard… simply because she is a female.

It leaves you to wonder what your destiny is.

Rhysand looks at you with sympathy, and you realize that in your moment of vulnerability, you've let your mental shields slip. “Please, save your breath,” you mutter.

Sensing Cassian and Azriel approaching, you flash them a small, relieved smile. “And please, stay by my side,” you say, your eyes scanning the room where multiple pairs of eyes are fixed on you. You feel so exposed and though it’s no surprise, it still leaves you unsettled. When your gaze meets that of one of Autumn's sons, you quickly look away and strengthen the shield around you.

“I could use my scary brother privileges right now.”

“Who are we scaring, princess?” Cassian asks, flexing his muscles as he pretends to adjust the cuffs of his dress shirt, rolled up to his elbows.

Azriel lets out a snort, but his keen eyes are already scanning the room, easily locating the Autumn male. The red-haired male immediately cowers under his cold, hard stare.

“No one.” Rhysand replies, shooting them both a warning look. He then turns to you and you don’t need his daemati abilities to know what he’s about to say. “y/n–”

“Don’t you think I know exactly where I stand?” You interrupt him with an exhausted sigh.

Tonight was a celebration–a ball to honor you and all you’ve done for the Night Court during the war. When the war started, you were twenty-three and deemed too young to participate. Though, at that age, Rhysand had already completed the bloodrite and was esteemed a formidable warrior. You were fortunate that your father allowed you to train and even more so that he allowed you to join the Night Court council.

You quickly mastered the politics of war and the intricacies of the Prythian courts. Midway through the war, your father entrusted you to visit the war camps and delegate on his behalf. There was no doubt that it was a privilege you were granted due to your powers. Still, you embraced it eagerly and tonight was the night you would officially be recognized as an emissary.

But of course, many–especially the sons of the High Lords–confused tonight as your debutante ball. You were in your third decade, after all. While your brother was recognized as a fierce warrior and heir, you were regarded as a highly sought out bachelorette. 

Lucky you.

“I am meant to be pretty and docile,” you continue, gesturing to yourself. 

The dress you wore was far from your usual preference. The bodice, adorned with intricate beadwork and sequins, featured a sweetheart neckline that teased a glimpse of your breast—but not too much. The skirt of the gown was voluminous, made of layers of soft tulle that shimmered with every step as the light caught the scattered sequins. It was a beautiful black ball gown, crafted by your mother's talented hands. Yet, you much preferred dresses that clung to you like a second skin, revealing more of your figure.

To put it frankly, you felt quite suffocated in this gown. And you rather not even get started on your makeup. You were transformed into a perfect painting of a sweet and innocent princess. Not the daring and powerful female you knew yourself to be.

“Desirable but not too attainable.”

 “However, that does not mean I need to be consistently tortured by dull conversations and hungry stares from controlling males,” you finish, crossing your arms against your chest with a scowl. “No one has even asked me about my role in this court.”

“Oh, yeah. How is it being an emissary to the Night Court?” Cassian asks, earning a smack to the back of his head from Azriel.

“Just splendid,” you reply with a sarcastic smile.

“You played a significant role in establishing peace between Spring and the rest of the courts after the war. I’m sure your efforts will not go unnoticed,” Rhysand assures you.

“Perhaps I played my role too well. Heathen has seemed to have taken an interest in me.”

It’s as if he heard his name being called, for the blonde male’s gaze meets yours across the ballroom. He winks at you with that stupid, cocky smirk of his. A grimace crosses your face. You had been hoping your conversation from earlier would deter him. It seems it has only spurred him on.

“He’s... pretty,” Rhysand starts, but then trails off, struggling to find a compliment for Heath. “Pretty full of himself,” he finally manages, shooting you an almost apologetic glance.

Both of you erupt into laughter.

“It could be worse,” Azriel comments after a moment, a futile attempt at making you feel better. “It could be the heir to Autumn. As the by-product of growing up under Beron’s cruelty, I hear he’s pretty ruthless. Might even turn out to be crueler than him. At least Heath isn’t as bright…”

“Ouch,” Cassian says with a playful wince, almost feeling bad for the Spring heir.

Your eyes find the male in question. Eris Vanserra. His vibrant red hair makes him and his siblings easy to spot in a crowded room. Surprisingly, Eris hasn't made any attempt to approach you tonight. Unlike his brothers. Instead, he stands by his mother's side. She appears uncomfortable and weary, her arm linked with his as she rubs her swollen, pregnant belly.

 As you focus on him, you feel a mix of anger and concern. “Somehow, I doubt that,” you voice your thoughts out loud, following the trail of emotions. Your eyes land on the recipient of his anger. Beron. The High Lord of Autumn stands amongst the other High Lords, engaged in conversation with your father.

Sensing your gaze on him, your father looks up from where you stand. He holds a hand up, summoning you and your brother.

“Time to shine,” Rhysand says, holding his hand out to you.

**

“Ah, my son,” your father greets with a smile as you and Rhysand come to a stop before him and the other High Lords. He then turns to you, violet eyes alight with pride that has your chest swelling with warmth. At least your father recognizes your worth and you don't dare to wonder if he'd see you the same if you weren't blessed with your power.

“My daughter, the guest of honor," he introduces, reaching for your hand to pull you to his side. You offer a polite smile and curtsy to the High Lords. “Y/n has done a lot for this court and all of Prythian. Tonight is a means to show my immense gratitude and present her with the official title of lead emissary of the Night Court.”

It is the High Lord of the Winter Court who speaks first, offering a slight bow of his head. “I look forward to continuing working with you, Lady y/n.”

“A wise and thoughtful member of the Night Court.” High Lord Thesan says with an amiable smile, the High Lords of Day, Summer and Spring sharing his sentiments.

However, the same cannot be said for the High Lord of Autumn. His lips curl in distaste, the thought of having to interact with a female tasting sour on his tongue. He had tolerated you before but only due to the war.

“You expect me to welcome her to my court to discuss important matter?" Beron huffs. "She’s just a girl.”

You don’t speak. You don’t even make a sound. But the look in your eyes…the look in your eyes was downright murderous.

Memories begin to flood your mind of you being berated and undermined. The box in which you had locked away your emotions can no longer contain them. A wave of anger and frustration begins to surge forth...

Rhysand knew exactly what was about to happen, his hand silently reaching out for yours. To hold you back.

But it was too late. Your mind was like a wall of steel. Impenetrable.

All you saw was red, your wings bursting forth from your glamor, unfurling behind you. They tore through the seams of your dress, provoking gasps. Swiftly, your magic mends the fabric, accommodating your true form.

Tendrils of darkness emanate from your outstretched hands, weaving through the air like sinister ribbons. Your gaze, unwavering and intense, remains fixated on Beron.  With each movement of your fingers, the room plunges deeper into shadow. The once-illuminated space is now consumed by a thick veil of darkness. Even Azriel’s shadows, accustomed to the darkness themselves, cling onto him like a second skin.

As the last glimmer of light fades into oblivion, the ballroom becomes a chamber of obsidian night. With a mere thought, you tap into the emotions swirling within the hearts of those present. Careful to be subtle upon the intrusion as you do not want to expose the true extent of your abilities.

You summon only the most negative emotions like a maestro orchestrating a symphony. Screams erupt, drawing your lips upwards. You can feel resistance against your power and whether it is from your father or brother or even one of the other High Lords, you can’t tell.

Gathering all your pent up frustrations, you use it to fuel your strength, wanting to hold onto this moment of mayhem just a bit longer. It is only when you feel Beron’s heart racing, feel the trace of fear threatening to dim the fire in his veins that you let go.

In the blink of an eye, your tendrils of darkness disperse, succumbing to the resistance. The faelights around the ballroom shimmer to life once more and the moon’s light seeps back into the room. It casts an ethereal glow over you, revealing the calm and cool expression on your face. Yet, your eyes remain seething with the fury of a dark, raging storm.

Beron's scowl deepens at your display. He parts his mouth in disbelief, looking towards your father, who says nothing. Beron then looks back at you.

For once in his miserable life, he is at a loss for words. Pride swells in your chest and you push against the talons raking across your mind, wanting to bask in your small victory.

“I’m just a girl,” you finally say and then give a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders before turning to leave.

Reveling in the animosity radiating off of him, your smirk deepens as you recognize a faint trace of humiliation somewhere among the fire of his wrath.

The assembled crowd parts before you, their gazes a mixture of disdain, shock, and fear. You keep your head held high and eyes focused straight ahead. Dread begins to settle in, the onset of a headache from overexertion threatening to break your composure.

Still, you carry on, feigning nonchalance. The only sounds echoing through the room are the hushed whispers and the sharp click of your heels against the marble floors.

Yet, amidst the sea of wary onlookers, one figure stands apart.

Eris.

The heir to the Autumn court is leaning casually against the wall near the exit doors, his mother nowhere to be seen. The corner of his lips are upturned into a smirk, amber eyes alight with amusement and curiosity and perhaps, even something more.

Your steps threaten to falter as your eyes meets his. He looks back at you, holding your gaze with a searing intensity, it sends a shiver down your spine. He looks at you in a way no one ever has...as if he can see you for you who you really are.

Because you aren’t just a girl.

You’re the daughter of the Night Court. A shining star. A force to be reckoned with and one he finds himself irresistibly drawn to.

series masterlist

a/n: I honestly don't know how to feel about this one. I guess it's kind of a prequel to my upcoming one shot. Also, you can't tell me Eris wouldn't find anyone besting his dad like reader did in this hot lol

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria

[grandline-fics]

Could i ask for a Law x FemReader with the “accidental kiss” prompt?, and if possible, could law have a crush on the reader if you decide to do this ask?

(Love your fics)

-anon

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Accidental Kiss

WARNINGS:  Fluff

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 1,270

A/N: Hi there, thank you for this prompt based request. I hope you like what I came up with for this one.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

The chatter among the crew at the breakfast table was as lively as ever. The meals on the Polar Tang were always savoured for everyone to connect and enjoy the time together before everyone resigned themselves away to take on their tasks for the day. You’d finished your meal but remained sitting, holding your mug of coffee close as you let the heat radiate into your hands, the thought of drinking it gone from your mind as you only focussed on your Captain. Your eyes remained on his and you smiled softly as you listened with keen interest before giving your input to the conversation with Law. 

While other chatter sounded around you, the pair of you were unaware of the looks you were receiving. Penguin and Shachi were trying to hold back their smirks, Bepo and Ikkaku stared with dreamy expressions while the others looked at the scene before them completely baffled. All of them saw how obvious it was you and the Captain shared a deep connection and held even deeper feelings for each other. Why hadn’t either of you noticed or tried to act on those feelings before? In the crew’s eyes the two of you were already a couple in all but name and acknowledgement from you and Law. 

When you finally brought your lips to you mug your gaze broke reluctantly from Law’s face and you caught sight of the time. As much as you could have easily spent the entire day talking to Law about anything and everything you knew your chores wouldn’t do themselves. With a sigh you finished your drink and began to rise, gathering the cleared plates and bowls close to you to take them to the sink. As you leant forward to reach for something just out of your grasp, Jean Bart spoke up to ask Law a question, causing him to turn his head. Then the chatter stopped instantly and the dining hall froze in its entirety, everyone taking in the sight of Law’s lips against yours. 

You didn’t even know how it happened, your mind couldn’t register the odds of this kind of thing happening. One second you were reaching for a bowl, the next your Captain’s lips were against yours and you were unable to move and the look in Law’s eyes told you everything; it was an accident and he seemed just as bewildered by the situation as you were. You couldn’t hold back the heat bursting against your skin or silence the heavy hammering of your heart in your chest. 

It felt like time had stopped when really the whole thing lasted a few seconds. You didn’t even know how either of you managed to find the strength to disengage but you did it. While Law quickly made his way to the safety of his study, away from the prying eyes and excited whispers. You however weren’t so privileged. You spent as long as possible standing at the sink, scrubbing the dishes for as long as you could, keeping your gaze on the water and not on the others of the crew you could feel were lingering in the room. When there was nothing else for you to clean you had no choice but to finally go to your assigned task for the day. Thankfully it was just you and Bepo doing the monthly stock check of the medical supplies which took most of the day and it was thankfully filled with silence due to complete concentration needing to be had. 

However you knew Bepo’s lack of comment on the morning’s incident was too good to be true because when it came to delivering the updated stock numbers to Law, the damned bear was suddenly overcome with one of his stomachaches and needed to lie down immediately. You muttered curses over and over as you made your way to Law’s office. Briskly you knocked on his door and entered when he called for you to enter. At first you thought you could pretend that what had happened never happened but when you walked in and met his gaze you faltered. You couldn’t help but glance at his lips while tightly pressing your own into a tight line. Quickly you inwardly berated yourself for your juvenile reaction. With a sharp clearing of your throat you continued into his office. All you needed to do was give him the papers and leave, it was easy, you’d done it hundreds of times before. 

“No Bepo?” Law asked, trying to find something, anything to speak about to delay talking about the kiss. 

“Stomachache.” You explained, slipping the papers into his hand and then you paused. Normally you would stay and chat but if you did this time would he be thinking you were staying for something else? But if you left immediately then that would be out of character and would make him think something was wrong, that you didn’t want to be around him anymore which couldn’t be further from the truth. What if he wanted you to leave because of what happened? Your mind was spinning and you couldn’t see an answer anywhere. Finally through your thoughts Law’s voice saying your name made you focus. “Yes?” You answered immediately.

“Was he okay?” Law asked, never forgetting his role as a Doctor even though he knew the bear would be more than okay. He highly suspected this was an instance that the navigator was lying, still he had to check. 

“You could offer to kiss him better.” Your joke came before your brain could stop you and you regretted it instantly, hands flying over your mouth as though you could force the words back. You always made jokes like this but given what had happened between you both this morning it just brought the memory and the feeling of his lips on yours flooding back. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” You rambled behind your hands. 

You and Law stared at each other and finally he broke the silence and the tension by laughing, all but relieved that you were just as much as a mess as he was about it all. Seeing him laugh let you join in and it felt as though the weight on your shoulders and anxiety of that accidental kiss possibly ruining everything between you disappeared. It felt like how it normally did and you could breathe easier now. As the laughter eased away you caught your Captain staring at your lips just as you had his when you entered his office. “Permission to say as unexpected as it was, it was a nice kiss, Captain?”

“Permission granted.” Law smirked at you. “Though you must be easily pleased if that impressed you.”

“Wow you’re so arrogant.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “I said it was nice, not that it blew my mind forever. I was just being kind.”

“Not arrogance if it’s fact.” Law replied smoothly as he rose from his seat to stand in front of you, his lips as close as possible without touching. “I can give you a real kiss now and ‘blow your mind forever’ as you phrased it?”

“You’re welcome to try, Captain.” You murmured, leaning your head back just a fraction and grinning in satisfaction to see him respond by leaning in again to maintain the infuriatingly close distance between you. There was a brief beat between you both before the space was closed and your lips met. You all but melted into Law’s touch and he was right. Compared to this kiss right now, what you’d shared in the dining room that morning was nothing but a happy accident.

------------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa

[jinkoh]

please don't make me jealous

jeonghan x gn reader

summary: your friend's friend seems to be very keen on spending time with you

tags: fluff, friends? to lovers, confessions, SFW, warnings: none

word count: ~2,3k

a/n: let's pretend i wrote this silly little fic for his birthday and not because i can't stop thinking about him haha (it's more or less the idea i had here)

Masterlist

“Are you sure I can come along?”

Hoshi looked at you in confusion. “Why would you even ask that? Of course you can come along.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I just don’t want to invite myself along…”

“First of all, you’re not inviting yourself. I’m inviting you. And it’s just the arcade anyway.”

“But they are your friends.”

Hoshi still didn’t seem to understand your worries. “Yeah. And you’re my friend too. It’s no big deal. And you already know them too, don’t act like a stranger.”

He was right, you’d met most of his friends at this point—but you weren’t a part of the friends group. You were just his childhood friend who happened to live in the same town again now, but they were his friends. Maybe that weird distinction only existed in your head, but tagging along to plans they made among themselves still made you feel like an imposter.

“It’s really okay?”

“It’s really okay.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay then.”

Hoshi smiled brightly at your words and then pulled you along to meet the others. 

They were already waiting outside the building and you felt even more nervous now, especially when Hoshi immediately mingled with them and made conversation. You’d hoped that maybe one of his roommates would be there too, since you knew them a little better, but it seemed like they wouldn’t be coming today.

“Sorry,” a familiar voice suddenly came from behind you, “Am I late?”

Jeonghan rested his hand on your shoulder in greeting, but his words seemed to address the group as a whole.

Someone made a complaint, but he didn’t mind it all that much and just laughed before turning to you, his hand still on your shoulder. “I didn’t know you’d be coming.”

“Hoshi invited me.”

“You didn’t need his invitation to come,” he winked playfully. “You’re always welcome.”

You knew better than to read anything into it—Jeonghan was always like this but there was no real meaning behind it. Still, you felt a little relieved to see him. While you wouldn’t say that the two of you were close, you at least knew him better than most of the others and it was good to know there was someone you were able to hold a conversation with without feeling awkward.

“Thanks,” you replied in lack of a better answer, shaking his hand off and following the others inside the arcade.

Jeonghan jogged up behind you with a sigh. “You’re always so cold, y/n. You wound me.”

Before you could answer, Hoshi bumped into his side, reprimanding him not to bother you. 

Inside, everyone naturally spread out, pursuing the games they were interested in. Hoshi immediately spotted a giant tiger that could be won at the basketball and rushed off to try his luck. You on the other hand were drawn to the claw  machines. Maybe it was childish or silly, but the small white rabbits were  just too cute to pass on and you desperately wanted one for yourself.

Though  after what felt like your zillionth attempt you started to realize that maybe you had to give up on it after all. No matter how hard you tried it simply wasn’t working out.

Your whole focus taken up by the plushie falling back into the pile over and over again, you hadn’t even noticed that someone had taken up the claw machine next to you until something white and soft nudged your shoulder.

“Is it this one?”

You turned around to Jeonghan in confusion who was holding up one of the little bunnies.

“The one you wanted, it's this right?”

Your eyes wandered between him and the bunny, still not quite grasping the situation and unsure how to react. Somehow you felt a little silly, being so passionate about getting a stupid plushie, that Jeonghan felt the need to get it for you. It shouldn’t matter but you couldn’t help wondering what he thought about it. Did he think you were childish?

“I just got a bit too much into the game. It’s not that I really want it that much. But since you already went through the trouble…” you mumbled with a weak laugh, reaching out for the plushie, but Jeonghan pulled it back out of reach.

“You don’t want it?” 

You didn’t like to admit to it but you also couldn't miss out on the plushie, so without meeting his gaze you reluctantly spoke up again. “Maybe I do want it,” you said, your hand still stretched out. “A little bit.”

“That’s better.” He easily handed it over now, briefly patting the round head before letting go. “Now, wanna do some car racing?”

With that he turned in the direction, but you stopped him, your fingers lightly tugging on his sleeve.

"Jeonghan?"

"Mhm?"

“Thank you.”

“Sure,” he replied nonchalantly, a small smile on his lips.

When you got back home that evening, you gave the little plushie a special place next to your pillow. Just because it was so cute, of course.

 You looked around the apartment in confusion. “Is Hoshi not here? He said he would be.” 

The question was meant for Woozi who’d opened the door for you and had still been in the living room half a minute ago, but it was someone else who answered.

“I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Though, I’m here so maybe it’s not so unlucky after all.” Jeonghan looked at you with the grin of a Cheshire cat. 

“It’s just—we agreed to meet,” you mumbled, walking to the kitchen again even though you’d already checked it before and knew Hoshi wasn’t there. “Guess I’ll come back another time then.”

Jeonghan followed behind with a small, unserious pout on his lips. “You can still stay.”

“That’d be kinda weird, wouldn’t it?”

“Why? You can hang out with me. Why are you only ever coming for Hoshi?”

“Because Hoshi is my friend?”

“Aren’t I your friend too?”

You didn’t know what to say to that—was he? Was he your friend? It’s not that you didn’t like him, you did. But friends still didn’t seem quite right.

“Either way, if Hoshi isn’t here it doesn’t make much sense for me to stay. He wanted to help me pick up a shelf since I don’t—it doesn’t matter.”

“I can help you.”

“Maybe I should try calling him,” you mumbled, barely acknowledging Jeonghan’s offer, but he didn’t seem offended. Instead he huffed and nodded.

“Right. You should try calling.”

“I’m so sorry,” Hoshi apologized the second he picked up. “I got held up, but I’ll be there in—uh—about an hour? Really, y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t worry. Let’s just do it another time, don’t stress yourself.”

After the call ended (not without Hoshi apologizing another 73 times) Jeonghan was still standing there, looking at you.

“Want me to help now?”

You contemplated for a moment, unsure if it was okay to take the offer. It was one thing to ask your long time friend to help you with an errand like this—but Jeonghan?

Then again, who knew when Hoshi and you would find another date that would work for both of you?

“Only if you’re really free—I don’t want to be a bother.”

Jeonghan grinned, already snatching the car keys from the hook. “You could never be a bother.”

Just a little later you were sitting on the passenger seat of  his car  Jeonghan waiting for you to buckle up before he started the motor and backed out of the lot. For a while, aside from the playlist running in the background, the ride was quiet. You thought you should say something, but somehow it felt hard to break the silence.

"Jeonghan?" You eventually started  your voice a little too soft.

"Mhm?"

“Thanks for coming along. I know you barely have any time too.”

“If you’re the one who’s asking I’ll make time,” Jeonghan grinned, as he stopped the car at a red light. “Should have just asked me from the start.”

You chuckled and shook your head lightly. “Sure, sure. I’ll do that next time.

“‘l’lI take your word for it. I’ll be jealous if you don’t.”

“Mhm, stop joking around already and focus on the road. It’s green.”

Jeonghan looked at you for another moment, the playful grin no longer on his lips. 

“I’m serious.” His voice was calm and low. “Ask me next time.”

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you quickly turned your head away, staring out of the window instead. You knew he couldn’t mean this, you knew Jeonghan simply enjoyed taking jokes a little bit too far. But why did it not feel like a joke anymore? And why did that thought get your heart racing?

“Okay,” you pressed out.

“Okay,” he repeated, his tone light again as he started up the car.

When you stood in front of your apartment door, Jeonghan holding onto the huge cardboard box with the shelf in it while you were supposed to unlock your door, you realized you hadn’t thought this through.

“Actually, until here is enough. I think I can handle the rest.”

He looked confused. “What? Why? I have time today, I can help you with assembling it too.”

“No, really,” you insisted, your mind stuck on the fact that you hadn��t cleaned up your flat and maybe it wasn’t the best time for a first visit. “It’s fine.”

There was a small frown on Jeonghan’s face now, clearly unsatisfied. “I bet you wouldn’t say that to Hoshi.”

“Well, but Hoshi is—he’s seen it before.”

“So, let me see too.”

“I didn’t clean.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “Oh, come on, you’ve seen our apartment in all kinds of states. It’s only fair if you let me in too.”

When you contemplated for a moment longer, his features softened up a little. “I wouldn’t judge. I promise.”

With a sigh you turned back to the door and typed in your code. “Remember,” you warned before letting him in, “you promised.”

While you closed the door and hung up your coat, Jeonghan already carried the box to your bedroom where you wanted the shelf to go. 

“Oh?” You heard him exclaim the moment he stepped inside, and you started feeling a little alarmed.

Hastily, you followed him to your room and found him sitting on your rug, the box on the floor beside him and the little white bunny he’d gifted you in his lap.

“You kept him,” He smiled as he moved him around by his little arms.

You felt caught; you’d completely forgotten that of course it had still been sitting on your bed, right next to your pillow like some treasured item.

“I mean—you’d already gotten him for me so I would have felt bad to throw him out,” you defended yourself.

“Mhm,” he grinned. “Sure.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not.”

“Whatever.” You didn’t look at him, maybe because you didn’t know how to or maybe because you wanted to hide your flushed cheeks. Instead you crouched down next to the cardboard box and started to open it. 

“You can go, if you want. I’ll just ask Hoshi to help me build it next time,” you said with a pout but you weren’t entirely serious.

Jeonghan came over, holding the bunny up in front of his face.

“Don’t be angry,” he made the plushie say in a high pitched voice, but you barely spared him a glance so he set it aside. 

“I’m not,” he repeated, with more determination this time. “I’m not making fun of you. I was just happy you kept it. So, don’t be angry.”

“...Okay.”

“And don’t ask Hoshi to help instead.”

You looked at him, unable to stop yourself from huffing a laugh. “Is that really that important to you?”

“I told you I’d get jealous.”

Before you could reply, he rested his forehead against your shoulder, his voice soft when he continued. “Please don’t make me jealous.”

For a moment you forgot how to breathe, caught off guard by the sudden proximity, and even more caught off guard by how serious he sounded.

“Why?” you pressed out, barely audibly. “Why would you get jealous?”

He let out a weak chuckle before raising his head to look at you, his face way too close to your own. “Do you really not know?”

You thought maybe you did. But it couldn’t be. No way it could be.

You shook your head.

“But I don’t think I can say it. Won't you run away if I do?”

Your mouth felt dry. 

You shook your head again.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I like you, y/n.”

It was the answer you’d expected and the answer you’d hoped for. And yet, now that he’d actually said it you didn’t know how to react. Him having feelings for you just seemed so unreal, so impossible.

“Okay.”

“What kind of answer is that?” His voice wasn’t offended or demanding, instead it was soft, just a whisper so close to your face that you felt the words on your skin. “Just—okay.”

“Okay as in noted?”

You couldn’t help yourself from staring at his lips, mere inches from your own. If you moved in a tiny little bit—

“Okay as in let’s try this.”

He couldn’t hide the smile that was spreading on his face at your words, his own gaze shifting between your eyes and your mouth. “Yeah?” 

Your heart was hammering in your chest like crazy as you leaned in, carefully, hesitantly brushing your lips against his.

“Yeah,” you whispered, before you finally dared to kiss him for real. “Let’s try this.”

Masterlist

[like-what-the-fuck-scoob]

How about some smutty goodness of Eddie figuring out his girl has major praise kink and he's trying to fluster her all the time

- @eddiesprincess86

'Good Girl' (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader. During a heated handjob, Eddie finds out that you have a praise kink. From then on, he makes it his mission to turn you on outside the bedroom.

Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warnings: Smut (handjob, light fingering). Use of petnames 'Sweetheart', 'Princess', and of course 'good girl'. Mentions of food and eating at a restaurant. Mentions of Eddie drinking beer. Praise kink. Public praise kink. Reader has some anxiety talking to staff at the restaurant.

Authors Note: @eddiesprincess86 I'm so sorry this took longer than promised, I kinda mentally checked out for a few weeks. But I'm so glad I did this because no joke this is one of the best things I've ever written 💕

**********************************

It began one Friday evening. Having dated for a few months, naturally, you and Eddie found yourselves once again tangled up in each other, bodies coming together in a blend of heavy breaths and dewy sweat, the covers of his bed draped over you. Your boyfriend was more keen than usual, the stress of his graduation exams making him pent up with angst and frustration. You'd promised to please him, to help him relax, to distract him. And here he was, his lips on yours, pining beneath you.

Lowering an eager hand down to his boxers, you palmed his length through the fabric, unable to hold back a smile as he moaned into your mouth. "Mm, so good sweetheart..." You felt your cheeks turn pink at the compliment, continuing to tease the cotton. He must really need this today, you thought.

Reaching inside the underwear, you pulled out his naked cock, precum already tacky on your fingers. Deepening the kiss, your tongues intertwined as you began to stroke his length; throbbing, warm, and painfully hard. You felt his big hands grip your hair as you worked him, his rings dragging slightly on your scalp. Quickening your pace, the brunette groaned, thrusting his torso further into your hands. "Fuccck." He moaned, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're so good, feels so fuckin' good Princess."

His breaths were raspy, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head as you coaxed his orgasm. "M-More. Faster baby." Complying, you hurried your movements even more, your hand beginning to ache from the speed. But it was worth it, as you watched your boyfriends eyes squeeze shut, his mouth falling open in gratification, his climax clearly building. "O-Oh that's it, good girl, good fucking girl, you know what to do."

His words felt like a blow to your stomach, in the best possible way. A coil tightening in your abdomen, you couldn't stop a low moan escaping your lips as he praised you, wetness pooling in your panties.

"Oh?" The dungeon master placed his hand on yours, pausing your handjob for a moment. His interest was piqued. You swallowed anxiously, hanging your head bashfully, your face flushed and embarrassed. "You like that sweetheart? Being called a good girl?" He asked, placing his fingers under your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his. Nodding slowly, you bit your lip, in a mixture of anticipation and lust. "Noted, Princess..." He laughed, a low flirty chuckle, before releasing his hand from yours.

And that was how it started. Teases, whispers, praises, outside of the bedroom.

Eddie first tested the waters at one of Steve's parties. "Could you fetch me a beer, sweetheart?" He had asked so sweetly, so innocently. Returning with his drink, he gently grasped it from your hands, his fingers caressing yours in a way slightly too sensual for a public setting, as he caught your eyes in a sultry gaze. "Good job honey..." He purred lowly in your ear. "Always doing exactly what I ask..." Too stunned to speak, you could only stare at your boyfriend, dazed and unprepared, a familiar warmth again beginning to seep into your underwear. "E-Eddie." You finally croaked, "W-Why did you say that. You know it turns me on." Questioning him, he only smirked, responding with one simple word before he led you both back into the crowd: "Exactly..."

Then, it was during grocery shopping. Deciding which ice cream flavour to buy, you suddenly remembered you'd forgotten to pick up your favourite juice. Heading back up the aisle, you spotted your drink on the top shelf. Shooting the metalhead a look of defeat, you heard him call after you with a giggle, "You've got this, babe!" Watching you closely, he raised his eyebrows in amusement, smiling fondly at the way you stretched your body to reach the item, standing on your tip toes, tongue slightly poking through your gritted teeth as you waved your fingers towards the bottle. He noted the way you arched your back, your cute butt sticking out into the aisle as you bent over the shelves.

With a final huff, you grabbed your juice, bounding back over to your boyfriend with a satisfied look. Dropping it with your other groceries, you felt a hand on top of yours. "Good job, my strong girl..." He mumbled, his other hand palming your ass with a cheeky grin as you pushed the cart. "Knew you could do it..." With a sharp inhale, you supressed your sudden thirst, hitting the guitarist lightly on his arm. "What's the matter?" He asked, faking a shocked expression. "Horny are we, Princess?" The petname was enough to almost cause your knees to buckle as you approached the check out, both of you leaving the store in a hurry, desperate for eachother, dropping your bags and heading to the bedroom as soon as you got to his trailer.

And today, Eddie made no exception as he surprised you with dinner at your favourite Italian restaurant. You adored the menu here, yet your anxiety meant that at times you found it somewhat daunting to order your food. A gentleman, Eddie always offered to help, but this was something you were set on facing. As you spoke to the waitress, Eddie took note of your nervous body language, his heart aching as he watched you fiddle with your napkin, hearing you stutter as you recalled your choices. His doe eyes landed on yours as the employee turned to leave, his hands outstretched across the table to meet your own. A sinful smile creeping across his features, he knew what to do.

"Good girl, m so proud of you." He cooed, lacing his fingers with yours. "W-What?" You asked, dumbfounded. "You heard me, Princess. You're such a good girl, so brave." Heat searing through your body, you could feel the pink of your skin. Clearing your throat, you raised your eyebrows in disbelief. "Eds, come on, we're at a restaurant." You warned him, though, your voice was barely serious. You would never admit it, but deep down, you had grown to love this. The tease, the mischief, the rush of pleasure washing through you for every praise. And oh boy, did he know it.

As your boyfriend set his knife and fork down on the napkin, you motioned towards his empty plate. "What's next?" You asked, browsing the menu once again. A palm against your thigh, the dungeon master walked his hand towards your heat under the table, dipping a ringed finger inside the slick of your panties. Bringing it up to his lips, you watched wide eyed as he sucked your wetness from his skin. "Dessert."

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hi I have a request I’d like to make ^_^

Can you write something where Aemond is a bit shy when he cums, so he’s always burying his face against her neck, but this time reader really wants to see his expressions when he climaxes so she’s on top for the first time. He’s a little taken aback but he can’t deny the view is great. When he almost gets to climaxing he’s like “w-wait! I’m close..!” And she just grabs his jaw, making forced eye contact and proceeds to ride him even harder until he cums.

I LOVE it when people reach out off of anon. Very brave. Much courage.

ANYWAY, your wish is my command. Pls enjoy.

Warnings: As if this needs any. You know there will be smut. NSFW. 18+ Word count: ~1k

Aemond had always been a generous and attentive lover. Despite not having much in the way of sexual experience prior to your marriage, he was a perfectionist and eager to learn. He had spent hours poring over every tome that the Red Keep’s library had to offer on the act of pleasure, and plentiful practice had meant there was never a day that you were left wanting physically.

It had taken a while to convince him to remove his eyepatch in front of you. His claim of “I have no desire to frighten you, my love.” had made your heart ache. He was clearly self conscious of his disfigurement, but you were desperate to see all of him. The night that he had finally relented and allowed you to lift it from his face had been a tender moment for you both. You had pressed gentle kisses to his scar and reassured him that you loved all of him, he didn’t need to hide any parts of himself from you.

Despite this, one of those frustrating factors for you in your marriage to the One-Eyed Prince was that during the act of love he would always hide his face from you at the point of climax. Either by burying his face in the crook of your neck if you lay below him or throwing his head back if he took you from behind. You knew it was fuelled by his insecurity regarding his eye and it bothered you that there was still an element of discomfort for him in your relationship. You were determined to fix it.

You’d tried to outsmart him one morning, sliding down the bed to take him into your mouth, watching his face carefully as you’d bobbed your head back and forth along his thick length. However, as he’d reached the apex of his pleasure, he’d turned his head away into the pillows, leaving you with a mouthful of his spend and an overbearing sense of exasperation.

A week later the two of you lay together in your marital bed, each of you on your side, facing each other. The ever increasing passion of your kisses and the way Aemond’s hands roam the curves of your body make it explicitly clear where things are headed. An idea strikes you.

Hooking a leg over Aemond’s hip, you roll him onto his back, sitting astride his hips.

A slight raise of his eyebrow, that would have been imperceptible to anyone else, lets you know that your actions have shocked your husband and you grin down at him.

“What are you doing, dōna ābrazȳrys?” He asks curiously. Sweet wife.

“Just trying something different, my dragon.” You purr back.

His right eye watches with keen interest as you reach between your bodies, positioning his hardened cock at your entrance before sinking down slowly.

You gasp at the stretch of him and the unexplored depth and angle. This is a new position for both of you, but it is not an unwelcome sensation. From the sharp inhale through his nose that Aemond takes as he grits his teeth, you can tell that he’s enjoying it too.

Gingerly, you begin to grind your hips back and forth against his. Unsure of what you are doing, your lack of experience causes you to hesitate, so you are grateful when Aemond grasps your hips and helps your movements along as he thrusts up into you.

His right eye drinks in the sight of you appreciatively as you ride him. From the contorted expression of pleasure on your face, to the bounce of your breasts and the roll of your hips against his. “Vok.” He whispers, as you move above him. Perfect.

His praise instills you with renewed confidence and you move your hips faster, harder, until Aemond’s grip on you tightens, his breathing becoming ragged. The familiar tensing of his abdominal muscles and pulsating of him inside of you are all you need to feel to know he is close to his end. You smirk down at him.

Panic washes over his features as he attempts to turn his face away. “No, no, I’m close!” He groans.

“I know.” You breathe out, taking his chin between your thumb and forefinger to turn him back towards you. “I will look upon your face as you fill me.”

You continue to ride Aemond. The beginnings of his protestations die on his lips as his release takes hold. Your lips part, eyes wide with both wonder and enjoyment as you take in the sight of his pleasure drunk features as he pumps you full of his seed. 

His brow is furrowed. The blue iris of his right eye is no longer visible from the dilation of his pupil. The bridge of his nose is scrunched ever so slightly, distorting the positioning of the scar that runs along the left side of his face. His mouth hangs agape as an almost feral sounding grunt escapes him.

You have never seen anything quite so beautiful as your husband in the throes of ecstasy. You cannot quite believe that this is what he has been hiding from you all this time. Your own pleasure is long forgotten to you as you gaze adoringly down at him.

Suddenly he pushes you off of him with a force that causes you to collapse onto your own side of the bed.

“I’m sorry you saw that.” He mutters, turning away from you, clearly distressed.

You reach out a tentative hand, stroking his shoulder. “Aemond, we’ve spoken about this…”

He sighs. “I know, ñuha jorrāelagon, but it is one thing for you to flatter me during idle conversation. It is another entirely for my disfigurement to rob you of your pleasure.” My love.

You pull him gently onto his back, looking down at him with concern. “What do you mean?”

“You saw my face when I…when I- and you didn’t peak.”

Your features soften as you chuckle slightly. “Aemond, you were so breathtaking to me in that moment, that I quite forgot that that was the intention.”

Aemond eyes you suspiciously. “Really?”

You nod. “Aemond, my words to you are not just flattery. I mean it when I say I think you are perfect. Please never hide your face from me again.”

He appears to consider this for a moment before speaking. “Okay, dōna ābrazȳrys. But you must allow me one exception.”

“And what is that?”

Aemond smirks wickedly at you as he lowers himself on the bed. “My face will be hidden when it is between your thighs. No wife of mine will go to sleep unsatisfied.”

[darlingdekarios]

hush awhile.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 1,289 content: Anakin Skywalker x f!reader, porn with plot, jealous/possessive Anakin (is he ever anything else?), teasing, smut [fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v]

despite knowing it's just part of your job as a spy, a possessive streak flares in Anakin when he watches you in action.

A soft, warm hand slid down the expanse of your back as you lay bent over on the chilled table beneath you, your breaths desperately calm in an attempt to portray some semblance of control over yourself. The trail of heat that followed his touch was soothed by the cold leather of his gloved hand immediately after, a soft chuckle falling from his lips at your obvious appreciation for his touch. The same gloved hand smoothed over the first cheek of your ass that it reached before sliding further to push your legs apart, taking in the view presented to him.

Your cunt was already glistening for him – the evidence of your approval toward the situation dripping down your thighs as your mind anticipated what kind of mood he was in tonight. Based on his dark eyes when you’d returned to the ship, he was sour toward the mission you’d completed today, and even more sour that he had to listen to it over a commlink stuffed into your ear. As a Senate Spy, you were often sent away to deal with corrupt Senators or even the trade federation, but this time you’d found yourself in a glorious party on Tatooine with one of the many crime lords planted there. Anakin Skywalker knew all-too-well what kind of beings those men were, and he knew how they treated beautiful women like you. As a singular gloved finger slid through your folds, collecting as much of your arousal as he could, he hummed in quiet approval. 

“I hope this is for me, angel,” he cooed, leaning forward to place a tender kiss to your shoulder before he dipped the same finger into you. You’d had Anakin’s fingers before – many times now – but the added thickness of the glove pulled a gasp from you. Had you been on your back, you would have been greeted with his perfect smile. “Did any of them touch you?”

“Of course they did,” you spoke honestly, knowing he’d see through any lies you’d try to present in his best interest. It was part of the job – one that he was well aware of and had been for a long time – though no matter how much time passed he would never grow to be okay with the situation. A quiet growl sounded behind you, a second finger joining the first though you’d hardly been worked up to it. “But hardly. One of the Hutts wrapped a tail around my leg, and there was a Mandalorian bounty hunter who was keen on holding my waist.”

“Maybe you’re soaked for them, then.”

“Never, Ani, only for you,” you corrected, fucking yourself back onto his fingers slightly to prove your point more-so. The content sigh that came from his lips was his sign of appreciation and understanding. To thank you for your honesty he curled the gloved fingers inside of you, eliciting the quiet moan he’d been searching for from your lips. 

As his fingers pumped into you, stretching you in preparation for the thick cock he’d undoubtedly fill you with soon, his free hand reached to work open his robe and drop his pants. Once his hardened cock was free and he’d given himself a few strokes he slid that hand to rest at the back of your neck, pushing you against the table to ensure you didn’t move. “Only me? I’m not sure I believe that. Why don’t you beg for me to prove how bad you want me?”

His fingers withdrew then, having coaxed you closer to an orgasm than you cared to admit with what little attention he’d really given you – though it was always that way with him, your adoration for the man encouraging you toward bliss far sooner than any man before him had managed. Grasping his cock again, he began to slide the velvety head through your folds, gathering enough of your nectar to wet himself on the chance you completed your task satisfactorily for him. He knew you always did just what he asked, and with enthusiasm.

“Please, I only want you – and I want you so badly. I’ll do anything you ask me to, just please,” you began, your words already breathless from his skilled fingers. How you managed to say exactly what he needed to hear after a full day of work and being on the brink of orgasm would always baffle the 20-year-old Jedi. “Please…I need you, Master Skywalker.”

You always used that name to your advantage, to push him to an impossible depth of desire, and now was no exception. Unable to keep himself from you any longer he breeched your entrance with his thick cock, groaning as his hand at the back of your neck grasped tighter to mirror the grasp your walls held on him. His gloved hand found its way to your hip, holding you tight enough to bruise as he slid inch by inch into you, closing his eyes to fully appreciate the heavenly moan that sounded from you as you welcomed him in. When he bottomed out and the head of his cock prodded at your cervix before he stilled to allow you a moment, he couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from his lips at your near scream of his name. 

“Sh, my angel…there are people in the other room,” he chastised, giving the back of your neck a tender rub as you adjusted to his length. After what he determined to be a proper adjustment period, feeling you relax beneath him he pulled his cock away from you entirely before resheething every inch into your hot cunt, groaning again at the feeling of your tight walls embracing him and the sound of his balls slapping against you. When you proved your inability to quiet yourself, he reached to pull his glove free before folding it in half, raising the leather to your face. “Open.” 

His firm instruction came, your mouth falling open with no hesitancy. He stuffed the glove inside your mouth, patting your cheek softly before placing both hands back at your hips as he began snapping his own against yours, thrusting deep into you with fervor. With each thrust into you he could feel your walls tighten around him more, melting away any of the frustration he’d allowed to build at the thought of your mission. Though his glove muffled the moans and cries he’d normally cherish, they were still present, the beautiful symphony encouraging him toward release.

One of his hands slid further down, connecting a warm finger against your clit as he rubbed expert circled, pushing you toward your own bliss. His thrusts became sloppy as your legs began to shake, proving that the end to his mission for the night was well within reach. Thanks to the makeshift gag in your mouth the only warning he received before your orgasm rushed through you, your walls tightening down around him as though your body wanted him to stay put – a request he was more than happy to fulfill. 

Your pulsating, tight cunt coaxed him to his own release, his hot cum spurting in thick ropes to paint your insides a way only he could offer you as he broke his own rule, moaning out loudly as he emptied his balls into you. He grasped your hips tighter, ensuring every drop of his seed made its way into you before he pulled out entirely. Stepping back to enjoy the sight displayed before him – your combined releases leaking from your perfect cunt and pooling on the table beneath you. 

“Next time you have a mission like that, come see me beforehand. I’m sending you in front of that scum with my cum in you from now on.”

masterlist. star wars masterlist.

[ajokeformur-ray]

No but I'm jealous of the man in the back of the ambulance in season one who Hannibal saved. He was really there with his sleeves hastily rolled up, his fringe in his eyes, his hand deep inside someone, holding a vital organ and keeping someone alive with his grip.

Feeling those long fingers inside, wrapped around one of your organs, his deep and measured breathing as his grip flexes every now and then, making sure he doesn't let go of you, making sure you don't bleed out, his keen sense of smell better than any medical equipment he could use in that moment as a diagnostic for whether you'll survive this or not.

Those hands, which have killed more than he will ever openly admit to anyone other than Will Graham or himself, now cradling an essence of life with the intent to save, with the intent to be the doctor he used to be.

Hannibal's wrist dripping with your crimson blood, which rolls off and drips to the ambulance floor, the harsh artificial light above him makes him seem like an angel with a halo... An angel of death.

You feel him deep inside you, your body's pain both at the forefront of your mind yet also so distant, like you're not in your own body. The shock is nature's anaesthetic, a strong contribution to your survival. Internal organs should never meet sunlight. Hannibal is holding you, his dark brown eyes watching your every move. He savours every breath you take, knowing he's the only thing preventing you from dying. If he lets go, if he loosens his grip, if he so much as twitches a finger... You may die. You will die.

Hannibal gets drunk off the power, and his head tilts ever so slightly to the right as he decides to do as he was asked by Jack Crawford and act in your best interests. He will not kill you. But he considers it, and at least six of those methods he could choose right now make him smile.

But the world, and his reputation as a medical and psychiatric professional, are better if you survive this, and so he stays and he watches you, making sure you don't die.

You will always be able to feel the ghost of his grasp inside you, and nothing you ever do will quite feel the same. You'll spend the rest of your life chasing that feeling, wanting Hannibal so far inside yourself that only someone who opens you up could touch where he did, and a part of you will wish he had killed you. He will never be able to hold you that closely or intimately again... It's an ache like no other.

Hannibal will always wonder how your last breath would have tasted if he had chosen to let you die in that ambulance. The sorrow of a life unlived would have been bitter, he thinks, yet also some kind of sweet.

When Hannibal was able to let you go once more help arrived, he could feel you in the palm of his hand for hours afterwards, the ghost of you kept him company all night long, and he almost mourned the dishes he could have made with you.

Almost.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I Light the Match to Taste the Heat

Pairing: Scud x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Recreational drug use; poorly written smut

Summary: There’s really no plot. Just smut.

A/N: My writing has gone downhill but here is some Scud smut.

You took another toke, holding the joint between your thumb and forefinger while watching with an amused interest. Your bare legs bracketed your boyfriend’s hips, his baggy jeans sitting low and revealing the waistband of his boxers beneath. Scud’s shirt was off, his scars on display but you paid no mind to those—never really had—because the entertainment was further north where he stared intently at the length of soft shibari rope he had knotted into a ghastly mess before it had even touched your skin.

You nearly choked on your exhale.

Baby blues flitted over to where you lay naked below him and then back to the rope, the latter tossed over his shoulder with a shrug. “File that in the later folder.” He dropped forward, catching himself on his hands—arms extended—on either side of your head.

Turning your hand, you placed the joint between his lips and held it there as the paper lit up with his deep inhale. “Can turn a slinky into a bomb but can’t seem to properly tie up his girlfriend.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head, the smoke billowing from his nose and mouth to form a cloud between your faces. “You may have lost your man card.”

“Is that right?” He smirked, plucking the joint from your grasp to hit it again and put it in the ashtray.

“Hey, I wasn’t finished—!” You protested, the last word shaping into a low moan when Scud ground his pelvis against your core, his erection prominent.

“I’ll make sure you're finished, baby.” He cooed, pupils blown and sclera tinted red. When he began to close the distance—attempting to lower to his elbows—his hand slipped and your foreheads met roughly with a dull thud.

Face contorted in discomfort, you pressed the heel of your hand to the tender area. “Dumbass.” Even while pained, you laughed at his incredulous expression, as if something just so Scud was beyond his comprehension.

“Does that count as foreplay?” His grin was lopsided at best while your hands worked at his jeans, opening them and shoving them—and his boxers—down over his ass, grabbing his buttocks as you hooked your legs over his hips.

“It does if you fuck me right now.” He wasted no time. While feeling him begin to stretch you open, your walls clenching and releasing around the intrusion, you pressed your head into the mattress and dug your nails into his skin. “Oh, fuck, Josh!”

He chuckled, the noise muted against your skin as he sucked at your collar bone. “Just gettin’ started, baby.” He thrust the remaining couple of inches in roughly, shunting you straight up toward the headboard. “Always so fucking tight.”

The pace he set was delectably perfect, his tip hitting that spot inside of you in a rhythm that had your toes already curling and your mouth hanging up with a string of ah ah ah’s that were for his ears only but likely picked up by the keen senses of the resident daywalker.

“Damn, you’re hot like this.” Scud praised breathlessly, clumsy hand palming at your breast. “I mean, you’re hot all the time, but—”

“Shut up.” Your demand was immediately followed up with your hands in his hair, yanking him down until your mouths clashed in the most sloppy—yet perfect—kiss. Squeezing his hips with your thighs, you broke free of his lips with a deep inhale while simultaneously rolling him onto his back. Sitting up, you ground your hips at a brutal pace, chasing your high.

“Shit, baby. Slow down before you break—”

“I thought I told you to shut up.” You smirked at him. Hand leaving your hip, he made a zipping motion across his mouth and redirected both hands to your breasts. “Oh, no no. I want you to shut up, not be quiet.” Clenching your muscles around his cock drew out a guttural sound from the man below you, his hands squeezing at your chest.

That was enough to ignite the flame in your belly, to feel that knot pulling taut. Scud was panting below you, face contorted with pleasure. The twitch of his cock as it moved inside you was telling: he was close. Your thighs were burning, your stomach muscles straining but the payoff would be sublime.

“Cum with me, baby. I want you to cum.” You threw back your head, your hands coming to rest on top of his on your breasts. “I’m close.”

“Don’t stop.” Scud pleaded, his hips rising to meet yours with each bounce. “Fuck, m’gonna—”

“Oh. Oh, Josh!” Your orgasm was sudden but no less powerful, consuming you as if you’d been set aflame. You could hear your boyfriend groaning, feel his warmth spilling into you, your inner walls spasming and pulling him impossibly deeper.

The last dregs of your climax were dimming, the world coming back into focus. At some point you had collapsed onto Scud’s chest. His heart galloped below your cheek while his hand glided up and down your back.

“Goddamn, girl. You’re gonna be the death of me.” The warmth of his palm disappeared and the click of a lighter followed. The smell of marajuana wafted into your nostrils, enticing you to giggle and anticipate your turn for a toke.

“Definitely if you don’t learn to be quiet.” You balanced on your elbow beside him, accepting the joint with a waiting hand. Inhaling deeply, you opened your mouth to continue when a deep voice sounded from somewhere outside the door.

“You both need to learn to be quiet!”

Snorting, smoke flowing from your nose, you joined Scud in a quiet burst of shameless laughter before you spoke in unison:

“Sorry, B!”

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: raphael (bg3) x archdevil male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: puppy eyes are a very valid/viable form of manipulation

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1,277

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: long exposition for short scenario, devils, pacts, some brief description of violence, underlying manipulation, i love you's

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: in honor of killing raphael for the second time (ily gale) the inspo

☾⋆☆⋆☽

To be an archdevil of the hells, you have to have a certain charm, per say; a devil's tongue, able to make both pacts with lowly, pathetic mortals, and other devils that covet your position, plus everyone in between.

A horrid task is making a pact, really, to ask for a treasure in exchange for something so slight, especially when they could hardly see the imbalance in the transaction.

When the supplicant who wished for power because he was so tired of rolling over for nobles died, you smiled with his soul in your grasp; he had managed to make a name for himself, and now you had a hero in your hall. When the devil sworn to you broke his pact and thus turned his fire immunity into a vulnerability, you enjoyed watching his skin char when he dove into his favorite lava bath.

Perhaps it wasn't so horrid after all, actually. With the many souls that now stomped your halls, you had an infinite supply of jesters. Watching a most old soul fade away into nothingness is always fun, too.

Most archdevils agree that suffering brings them satisfaction, but that is often the most lively thing about them. Zariel, for one, is always focused with her blood war, and Mephistopheles is in love with his vaults, and each only want more souls or artifacts to feed their obsession. Neither one even thinks to branch out! They're all so boring.

Mephistopheles's darling son, though, he's different. Narcissistic as any other devil, perhaps, but to a higher, more interesting degree; and boastingly ambitious, too. Always planning. It's lovely to see him in thought, despite how scarcely he lets himself be seen in the vulnerable process of thought.

And he knows you watch him, has, since the first time you laid eyes on him, but he lets you.

As Mephistopheles's boy, certain things are expected of him, the most daunting of all being that the son will never surpass the father. Cambions can be stronger than their fathers, but for Raphael to beat the ancientness that is the Archdevil Mephistopheles? Hardly perceivable.

Perhaps—no, that is why he is so interesting to you. So ambitious, to want the hells for himself, even when you know he will never be able to surpass the power of his own father.

You love watching him try.

Raphael, however, has always goaded you into helping him. Since you believe he won't win, you know that whatever you do to aid him will bring him nothing except disappointment and you, at best a slap on the wrist from Mephistopheles, at worst death when you visit the Material Plane.

In the beginning days of his plot, your help had always been both miniscule and hard-earned: a heap of souls for a sliver of your power in a pact baring similarity to a warlock's. Though, as time went on, Raphael's keen eye caught onto what made you concede, or the more amusing mortal word, fold, and oh was it foolishly simple.

It was always apparent between the two of you that the entirety of his life, his thousands, is only a shadow to your ten thousands. Its what made him so pathetically small in your eyes. He was still young, to you.

Oh, and his human form! It was so little and so mortal.

"A living mortal in my hall in the hells? Oh, it is only you, my dearest!" The cage of brown-red bone that protected your ever-ardent veins still protruded from beneath your flesh in the form of spikes, through your bumpy, fire-scarred flesh; but you were careful in kneeling before your favored, human form of Raphael.

You were still taller than him, kneeling, and Raphael looked most exquisite looking up at you. The cambion didn't need to dress up his words with a mouth-watering glaze. He already had you in his grasp. "My love, I've come to ask something of you."

"Again?" You click your tongue, shaking your head and nearly hitting him with your thick, wild horns. "You must learn to be independent one of these days."

"Oh," When he's rid of the interjection of exasperation, his bottom lip draws over his top lip; a pout. "I know, my dearest, but you must understand!"

"What must I understand?" You leave your hands in fists over your hips, leaning back straighter to look at him with the most stern expression your monstrous face muscles can offer.

Even with your knowledge of him being, well, a devil, you are still so careful to touch him, especially so in your ascended fiend form. Raphael steps closer, between your kneeling legs, placing his hands over your fists. "I really do need your help this time. I cannot do this without you."

You huff, your fists breaking to hold his hands properly. "Tell me, my love, what do you need of me?"

"My father has a new relic in his collection. Oh, it is so precious!" He emphasizes his point with the bounce of his heels, "Extremely powerful, as I'm sure you've heard, my darling; the mortals have lost their magic recently, yes? The foolish mortal Karsus and his foolish ambitions, but his crown is very much real, and very much powerful, especially for a human."

"So I've heard, sweetheart. What are you saying?" If you had any eyebrows, they would've furrowed.

"I need it. I need it, for myself, it'll be the most splendid gift!"

Your head draws back, and for a moment, your skin burns hotter, in such a way that even he can feel its temperature raise, that it must be so potent and high a change that a flame-retardant lover can feel it. Had this been the first time Raphael has asked for something of such great power from you, he'd have thought his plan was over.

"Mephistopheles would kill me, Raphael, shove me in a portal to the Material Plane, or the Ethereal Plane, or even the Godly Plane just to see me die the most gruesome death." You do not exaggerate, he has seen it first hand more than a handful of times.

"Oh, but my love, my dearest..." Raphael doesn't follow up his most adorable pet names, like one normally would. He doesn't plead his case, doesn't beg for it. Instead, he widens his eyes, and he stares, and there's just something about the way the glare of the candelabra glints in his eye that—

Oh...

Gods, he's just adorable, isn't he? So much better than a hellhound begging for a scrap of your meal, its head on your thigh, because this is your dearest Raphael.

Devils have delicious red eyes, but Raphael's human form has this just sweet pair of brown eyes, what is it, chocolate? They're gorgeous.

And his head can barely crane up high enough to look you in the eye, even when you're kneeling for him.

You huff, look away from him, but it's already too late. For the love of Tyr, Mystra, Ilmater, and the gods you'll never praise, why must he look so exquisite? With a deep sigh, you turn back to him, forgetting his delicateness as you place your wide palm over his tempting face. "Fine. Fine, my love, I will ask."

Raphael kisses your palm, lifting it off his face, and he smiles so nicely as he continues to pepper kisses along your burning knuckles. "Thank you," He says, spewing word upon word of his gratitude, "thank you, my love, I love you so much."

"Yeah, I know." You sigh once more, but you fold, leaning your head down to encase his head between your horns. "I love you too, my dear."

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hi, I read your monster au posts and they are amazing. Though I was wondering what would Rollo be and how would he handle there being a magicless human given his attitude in canon, as well as how would GloMas go down with Yuu and Mini!Yuu in that au?

So, I’d been holding off on answering this for Rollo until I had a better grasp on his personality and behavior, as deciding the monster/cryptid species that fits best is important. But since the Glorious Masquerade is coming to the ENG servers tomorrow (I’m not ready!!!), it feels like the right time to introduce him into the Monster!AU!

Also, as for whether or not RSA has seen Yuu/mini!Yuu, I think at least Che'nya and Neige and the dwarves have seen them yes! Outside of those, I leave that up to you/whatever direction the game takes us down next! And thank you so much, I'm glad everyone loves the AU's ;;v;;

To answer the question, I decided to base him off the French (and coincidentally Louisiana) cryptid “feu follet”, otherwise known as a Will-o’-the-wisp. Why did I choose this versus creatures like the “Beast of Gévaudan” or the “Gaueco” which will make him a fluffy canine monster? Well, while I think both would be interesting concepts to work with, neither of them really seem to fit the vibe I got from him as he’s portrayed in the beginning (…well, before chaos as usual hits the fan of course). Plus, it was also an interesting excuse to delve into more of the non-animal based ones besides Ortho being a golem!

WARNING: SOME SPOILERS AHEAD AND MENTION OF DEATH BASED ON THE MYTHOLOGY OF THE FEU FOLLET/WILL-O’-THE-WISP!

Anyway, I picture him being more of a feu follet/Will-o’-the-wisp as a call to his UM “Dark Fire” and his last name Flamme, which translates to “flame” in French. Hence, as a “ghost light”, it seemed more fitting! Feu follets are said to come in various shades of blue, yellow, red, and even green—now imagine him changing color based on his emotions and having to control that side in public! His poker face means nothing behind that handkerchief if he turns colors! 😂 (Especially if you keep in mind color theory!)

While they’re also generally harmless, however, if you’re familiar with the legend of Will-‘o-the-wisps (which has multiple different variations and stories across the world!), following one at night thinking it’s a fellow traveler can lead to one’s death in a marsh, bog, swamp, etc. Typically, they’re seen in a graveyard or one of the above-mentioned areas. Since no one knew how dangerous Rollo was until it was too late, it seemed fitting for him to be one!

By the way, he can be corporeal to handle things or be hugged by someone. He can also phase through things he wants to avoid…now imagine his hat getting caught between the fence bars! 🤣🤣🤣

With that out of the way, let’s discuss his reaction to Yuu and mini!Yuu!

Given that he’s more comfortable with non-magic users, he’d be fascinated and charmed at the thought of humans—creatures of historic legend and cryptic bedtime stories—being non-magic. A world where magic doesn’t exist and no one will be consumed by blot or harmed by spells gone awry? He’d likely want to know more, but he wouldn’t want to get too close—after all, he’s not exactly keen on making friends or showing a vulnerable side. Yuu is gonna have their work cut out for them if they want to give him pets and scritches! Their best bet is in private where he’s less likely to react so strongly (though if he learns that getting the majority of Yuu’s attention is enough to annoy Malleus and the others, I can see him being smug about it and letting them praise him 😌).

As for mini!Yuu though…

Mini!Yuu: *toddling around the room, giggling as they support the large puffy cap on their head*

Azul: “Where did you get that, little one?”

Mini!Yuu: “Mr. Rollo dropped it and let me wear it!” *adjusts the cap with one hand to try and look up at them before bumping into Deuce’s leg* “Oof!”

Deuce: “Oop! Careful, Yuu!”

Riddle: “I’m surprised he allowed you to wear it given his position as Student Council President.”

/Meanwhile/

Vice President: “Uh…President Rollo? Where is your cap?”

Rollo: *holding handkerchief to his mouth* “Yuu wanted to know how heavy it was.”

Vice President: “Y-you’ve never let yourself be out of uniform!” *gets emotional* “But you’re allowing the human child to wear it…that is so precious!”

Rollo: *scowls, his wisp body turning reddish-pink in embarrassment*

///////////

Pfft…I just couldn’t resist a bit of cuteness~! UvU/)

As for how the whole event would go down…well, I can imagine that Rollo would believe he’s doing the right thing, so him possibly trying to separate Yuu from the others using the flowers would be even more terrifying! For mini!Yuu, the whole situation would be absolutely terrifying for the toddler since I doubt the others would have let them come with them to stop Rollo. So, the boys would likely leave them with Grandpa Trein for safety until the whole situation is done and over with.

Once all is said and done, it’s really up to Yuu to decide how they see Rollo after the fact. As for mini!Yuu? Whether they find out it was started because of him or the boys kept it under wraps just like everyone else in NBC being ignorant of what happened, they might just be happy to see he’s okay. Now imagine him dancing with mini!Yuu at the end of the event like Charlotte with Prince Naveen’s younger brother from Princess and the Frog!

[thebluester2020]

[SDV] "Bet On It"

Summary: For the last few months, Alex had been attempting to get your attention and make you admit you had a crush on him until. You were adamant on your stance of denying any such thing until...you found yourself in his bed. Warning(s): Suggestive (kinda-ish?)) art at the end of this post, Light degradation (Alex calls the reader a 'slut' once), Teasing, Bratty!Reader, Mean! (kinda?) Reader, Reader bets on Alex being small. Side note(s): This lovely idea was given to me by @finchersbirds! [If you're reading this, hope you enjoy the flash fic + art <33] MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

♡ - You had a problem on your hands.

Since arriving in Pelican town a few months ago, you've been relentlessly tormented by one of the residents! One day, during the Flower Dance festival, you made the unfortunate mistake of speaking to Alex on the account that you didn't want to stand by yourself totally alone and thinking that he was cute.

But for Alex? He saw it in a different light, that light being...he thought you were totally into him.

Perhaps it was the spring air getting to him or the cute dress you wore on that day infecting his mind but...all he could think about was getting you into his bed and making you admit that you had a crush on him, no matter how small it may have been!

Thus, it started a month-long "rivalry" of sorts between the two of you.

Alex would constantly boast and brag about how strong he was, even going so far as to show up to your farm unannounced and even do some of your chores (something that you didn't entirely mind on the account it saved you some energy).

However, before you would let the act of letting him do your chores get to his head, you'd quickly shut it down and say that you didn't have a crush on him, that you would be stupid to let free help slip through your fingers so easily!

He'd state you were "being shy", you'd state the opposite and it would go back and forth relentlessly.

That is, until recently.

Suddenly, your local annoyance had grown more...touchy with you.

What were first fleeting touches such as him brushing past you or gently pinching your side.

Now it's developed into him briefly feeling you up whenever you found yourself close to him, his hands lightly grasping your arms whilst he pressed himself up against you. Sometimes Alex would tug you to him and whisper in your ear, something mundane like asking you if you wanted to play gridball with him but...you tried to deny the wetness you felt.

But his keen eye caught the way your thighs clenched together.

And it only continued until you made the foolish mistake of betting on him being small one night at the saloon, that his attitude towards you was him just trying to compensate for him lacking within' the size department downstairs.

The very accusation made him smirk like a fox who was within' an inch of capturing its prey. "Oh really?" Alex said with a chuckle as he downed the rest of his water.

You nodded your head firmly. "Yeah!" You huffed. "You're nothing but a damn clown." You spat harshly. "Trying to make up for having a small dick by acting big n' tough in attitude."

"Wanna bet on it?"

You took a moment, narrowing your eyes before you nodded your head. "Hell yeah, how much money do you want?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Nah, let's make this bet really interesting. If I'm bigger than what you say—"

"Three inches."

Ouch, he thought. "—then I'll stop talking to you, for good, promise. But if I'm bigger than that...you have to confess that you like me."

The way your cheeks turned a fiery red already gave the man his answer but, he wanted to hear it from your mouth. Something that he knew he wasn't going to get until he won this easy bet. Finally however, you nodded your head. "Deal."

Sealed with a handshake and you ordering one more water for yourself, you two rushed off to Alex's house. Alex quietly opened the door, looking around to see if his grandparents were awake despite all of the lights being out before he led you to his room upstairs. It smelled...strangely clean, not like musk and sweat like you assumed it would.

More so like laundry detergent and a hint of cologne.

You had a feeling in your stomach that you were going to lose this bet but...was that so bad?

"Ready?" Alex's voice snapped you from your thoughts as Alex stood in front of you.

"No," You stated bluntly. "A-And don't look at me so confidently pervert! Turn around." You grumbled. Alex shrugged his shoulders before he did as he was told, the sound of him undoing his belt and pulling down his zipper sending excited electric currents throughout your veins as you waited.

But, he didn't turn around.

"Well?" You said.

"Come and see for yourself," You narrowed your eyes, thinking it was a trick as you inched around Alex until an audible gasp escaped your lips.

"Y-You're..."

"Huge?" He said arrogantly.

You admitted your defeat all too easily as you nodded your head, Alex running his fingers through his hair with a smirk before he sighed. "As the victor, I'll be merciful and let you choose. Want to confess your feelings staring at my dick or fucking yourself onto it like the secret slut you are?"

The sound of your meek "Onto it" made his cock jump before he nodded toward his bed. After months of chasing you...teasing you and trying to get you to admit you liked him as much as he liked you.

He finally had you.

And he was going to savor this victory, all night long.

[adracat]

GWitch: Finale thoughts

Pardon for the lateness on this, got busy after the episode aired and then proceeded to write a fic using my achemy brainworms lmao. But here it is, the end of a terrific journey!

The permet stress really took its toll upon Suletta after her bout with Eri but that won't stop our girl from trying to save her family. So rough to see though.

Gotta say, besides Nika and Chuchu, Aliya is easily my fav Earth House kid. She's into divination, takes care of animals, and is just so chill

Surprise Surprise SAL are being cheeky assholes. They don't care what Delling/Benerit has to say since this is just a grasp for power on their behalf. They have all the cards atm with that WMD

This was nice I guess, but I really dislike him so I just rolled my eyes lmao. I guess the one Lauda stan is happy he got screentime.

For Mio to keep entreating Prospera is admirable on her part. She knows it might fall on deaf ears but she has to try for the sake of her future wife and hellish mother-in-law. It was so good how her faith in Suletta never wavers. She knows Suletta is coming and isn't surprised once she shows with Aerial

And Suletta demonstating her growth by ignoring Prospera's command? Top-tier fr fr. Loved that entire exchange and call back to ep12

I don't mind 4 but it is painfully obvious he was slotted into this role because of the truncated re-write. 'I guess I'm like her' No sir, you were explicitly not in S1 LMAO! But I guess they needed a newtype to overpower Eri even though it doesn't narratively make sense for 4 to be one. Ah well, in another world where Okouchi got the seasons he wanted ;-;. It was a nice send off nonetheless

Rainbow party permet is so cool, pride Gundam!! I wasn't too keen on Calibarn's design before, tho I love the broom, the rainbow really sells it for me. And that coven of gundams?? So cool. Schwarzette usage here, abysmal pilot, and wealth of unused symbolism stings a bit. They so clearly had an arc planned but had to cut it :/ I would love to see the initial draft before cuts were made

MIOMIO DISSOLVES BENERIT. Hell yeah. Had a feeling she would choose to go this route. Also, the stone cold way she stares down the barrel of a gun... Ma'am, my heart <3 The best peace princess ever

This hit me in the feels. Suletta forgiving her mother, Eri begging for all of them to be a family, and Prospera seeing the ghosts of Vanadis smiling at her lovingly. It was everything to me.

The soundless fake-out as Mio believes Suletta is dead was cruel and brilliant. The horror in her eyes that morphs into weepy happiness when Suletta awakens will stay with me for a long time. They even did the little gundam helmet bop again!

Shaddiq taking the fall for everything was good of him, but it feels a bit too neat haha (They had to wrap up loose threads hastily and it shows) He really is an interesting character that, in a longer run, could have been amazing

Surprise! Sulemio got happily married during the timeskip and now Mio has to suffer a keychain's negging. Super funny outcome but I hope Eri can move between devices or else that's a bit hellish

Mio stealing Shaddiq's highly trained girlsquad is amazing. Ain't no one getting to the president of GUND-ARM without a fight. This also opens up the possibility for more Sabanika, so excellent decision all around

THE RINGS!!!! Ahh any nitpicks are nothing compared to sheer happiness I feel when seeing them. They fought and suffered so hard for this ending and it was all worth it! Eri and Prospera sharing in their joy is the cherry on top~

This image is my fav. Suletta is such a special protagonist and her relationship with Miorine broke ground in a legacy franchise no less. They are in love! They married! And no one can take that from them. Thank you GWitch, I love you lots. This ride has been unforgettable from the beginning <3

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Coffee and Cigarettes~

Modern!Aemond X Reader

Summary: When Aemond's date doesn’t go as planned, one of his feisty classmates comes to his aid and manages to catch his eye, and not by her beauty, but mostly by her bold personality.

~my wifey @its-actually-minicika helped with the plot points and she gets loads of kissies for it mwaahh~

Also I'm sorry I went on a small break oops maybe the next chapter will be spicy?👀

Part 1, Part 2

Part 3

"What do you mean you don't see it?"

Aemond scrunched his nose as Y/N brought her hands up to cup his face, squishing his cheeks as she tiled his face to the side for Aegon to see as if his own brother hadn’t any memory of what he looked like.

"Tell me he doesn’t look like Alucard" she asked the older boy, still holding Aemond's face while he tried to wiggle out of her grasp. He wrapped his larger hand around her smaller wrists and she obliged and let go of his reddening face but let her hands drop onto his lap; a subtle gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Aemond.

"That vampire dude from Castlevania?" Aegon asked as he cocked a brow "I mean I would say yes, when my twat of a brother had his hair all grown out. But I still find it offensive you'd compare this monkey to him"

Aemond only rolled his eye, not too keen on arguing with his brother of all people, but Y/N was quick to respond.

"That's so mean, Aemond is hot"

Aegon chortled at this while Aemond gave her a sly smile, as if he didn’t believe a single word from the sentence that left her lips. And even though she sounded genuine, there was no fucking way she believed what she herself uttered.

Flattery at its finest, he thought.

He picked up his book once again, the one he had been reading before the entire debate of him and Alucard being lookalikes commenced. It was this old book he'd found in a bookstore, dusty and on the 'sale' rack and he wondered how anyone could pass by a book like this one and not want to pick it up and glance through it.

"Put that book down will you?" Aegon rolled his eyes from behind the kitchen counter as he fixed himself a cup of coffee "your obsession with dragons is getting weird now"

"I'm not obsessed" Aemond nonchalantly replied, not bothering to look up from the pages that bore the most interesting information in his opinion. He was well aware his boyish fancy with the mythical creatures would come across as odd and childish to most people but he didn’t really care much about Aegon's opinion and in the few weeks that he'd spent with Y/N, he came to a conclusion that she was not really one to judge someone for things as such.

Either she was too nice or just didn’t care.

"Dragons huh" She leaned closer and Aemond was expecting for her glance into the book but she instead rested her head in his lap as she examined the cover of the book he held from underneath "what's your favourite kind?"

"Oh god, don’t tell me you’re just as much of a nerd as he is" Aegon called out and Y/N simply rolled her eyes in response as she flipped him off to which Aegon responded to by sticking out his tongue "they're all the same. Large lizards with wings"

"Not exactly" Both Aemond and Y/N said at the same time and while the younger Targaryen brother took a moment to ponder over their perfectly synchronised response, Y/N continued to talk, as if their chorus of an answer did not fascinate her.

"There are European dragons, wyverns and Asian dragons" she spoke aloud as she traced the cover of the book, hoping that Aemond had a good grip on the book or else it would fall right onto her face "each one differs from the next. Did you know that-"

Aegon let out a dramatic groan as he plugged his ears shut like a child throwing a tantrum.

"You like dragons?" Aemond asked even though the answer was pretty obvious. He just never thought she of all people would be interested in something like this that most would term as nerdy.

"Duh" Y/N replied, now rather eager and enthusiastic about the conversation taking place "I had this one book when I was a kid by Earnest Drake and-"

"Not another word or I'll change my opinion of you being one of the cool kids"

"I am, regardless of what you say" the girl instantly retorted "dragons are pretty cool"

Aemond grinned at this, as if it was a compliment directed straight at him and not the bloody dragons that he was reading about. Furthermore, he was rather impressed and surprised in equal measure, that she of all people would have any remote knowledge about dragons.

The boy all of a sudden felt himself smiling even wider and he wanted more than anything to go on a whole-ass rant but he kept his composure so as to not frighten her off with his enthusiasm for the winged beasts.

He simply shut the book, after placing his bookmark amidst the pages, and gently booped her nosed with the spine of the book.

"Hey" Y/N giggled as she scrunched her nose, fondly looking up at the boy who was gazing down at her with the same level of fondness "what was that for"

"I didn’t do anything" Aemond snidely said as he shrugged, leaning slightly to his right to keep the book back onto the little table by the couch.

All of a sudden he couldn’t care any less about the book. He was far more curious to figure out the pretty girl who's head rested in his lap. What other interests did she have? Did she like literature too? Would she find ancient languages fascinating? Did she like Aemond? What would her lipgloss taste like? Would she moan or whimper if he-

What-

Aemond's eye widened at his own thoughts. Why the fuck would he even think of-

Stop it Aemond, He scolded himself inwardly she's your friend.

"What" she asked again with a smile as she looked up at Aemond who had momentarily zoned out and then tried to play it off by clearing his throat in a completely not-an-awkward way.

"I mh- nothing, just zoned out" Aemond said in his monotone voice that Y/N was slowly starting to find adorable rather than daunting.

"Just zoned out" she repeated and for a moment Aemond was willing to bet she had read his thoughts despite how ridiculous and impossible the probability of that happening was.

To his contentment, all she did was hum and get comfortable in his lap.

"Movie?" she asked aloud and Aegon shot her a thumbs up as Aemond nodded in agreement.

The silence that accompanied them as they scrolled through Netflix lasted only about a few seconds before each one tried to argue and pick the film they liked best. It was like a classroom full of toddlers who had gotten into a heated debate over who their favourite superhero was.

"We're not watching some shitty ass rom-com" Aegon blew a raspberry "we're going to watch a class-A horror movie"

"Absolutely not" Y/N snapped "you didn’t even hear me out to see which movie I picked"

"I think Hacksaw Ridge is the best pick" Aemond snatched the remote before Y/N could, which resulted in the girl pouting just to see if it would make Aemond submit to her.

It didn’t.

"Nice try" He chuckled which then only made the girl more irritable. She continued to stare at him, her gaze almost burning into his soul as she inched closer and closer until her chest was borderline pressed against his, her nose barely touching his and Aemond knew for a fact that one little move and her lips would collide into his and judging by the mischievous smirk dancing on her lips, she was well aware of it as well.

His heart almost leaped out of his chest when he felt her brush her bottom lip against his own and for those few milliseconds his brain short-circuited. He was about to have a full-blown heart attack but she pulled back and waved the remote proudly in his face that he was holding on to only a few moments ago; which he had absolutely no idea of when she snatched it out of his grasp.

Aemond heard his brother mumble an 'ew' under his breath but he decided not to comment nor give either of them a reaction even though his heart was beating faster. When she turned around to continue her argument with Aegon about the movie, Aemond discreetly swiped his tongue over his bottom lip- right where she'd brushed her own lips.

He softly hummed to himself when he tasted the faintest hint of her cherry lipgloss that she'd left behind in those few seconds of contact and he had to once again scold himself when he caught his brain thinking about wanting to taste more of it.

In the end, Aegon agreed to watch Y/N's choice of movie after they'd watched the horror movie he'd suggested.

Not having any more energy to argue, Y/N and Aemond just agreed.

"Don't worry Aems" she whispered into his ear as they got comfortable under the blankets on the couch "we both can watch your movie after Aeg drifts off to sleep. Or maybe spend the rest of the night in a different way, if you know what I mean"

Aemond's cheeks turned red and he was thankful that the lights were turned off. Y/N didn’t bother waiting for an answer nor did she bother clarifying if she was joking or being serious.

"Cig?" Aegon asked Aemond as he picked one from the pack for himself. The younger brother swiftly took the lone cig from his hand and then the pack which made Aegon sit upright in retaliation "yo what the fu-"

"Not right now" Aemond said sternly as he placed the cigarettes aside and away from Aegon, shooting his thumb in the direction where Y/N was sitting "she doesn’t like it"

Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling; for some reason, she found the gesture cute.

"Simp" Aegon mumbled.

"Shut up" Aemond snapped.

And just to annoy him, Aegon repeated it again, emphasising the 'p' sound at the end that had Aemond groan and Y/N chuckle at their antics.

The excitement that Y/N had when starting the horror movie quickly died down since the movie Aegon picked did not live upto her expectations. The plot was cliché and the jump scares were poorly executed.

"Remind me why we're watching this again?" she asked as she made a face at the pathetic acting.

"Cause the leading actress is hot" Aegon smirked "nice tits"

Y/N rolled her eyes but then again, she wasn’t really surprised by his answer.

"I was more interested in our talks about those books" she whispered in Aemond's ear, making sure to brush her lips against his hot skin "dragons are pretty fascinating eh? Maybe you can show me yours"

Aemond's eye widened and he immediately turned to face her.

"Books" she said with a straight face, inwardly enjoying his abashed reaction to her cheeky statement "I meant you can show me your books on dragons that you have"

"Right" Aemond cleared his throat, quickly looking away from her and back toward the T.V. screen "books, of course"

Aemond wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what she meant and he knew she wasn’t one to shy away from even doing whatever was on her mind- be it something as innocent as a kiss or something too sinful to even say aloud. The only thing that he found odd was that if he ever found himself in a situation that fell into either of the two categories, he did not seem to mind as long as it was with her.

What caused this sudden change? He couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was her feistiness from that day at the cafe or that underneath all of her ferociousness was a girl who was just as much of a geek as him and didn’t give two fucks about it.

Was he starting to like her? Probably.

Should he allow himself to like her? Probably not.

He was well aware he never had much luck when it came to dating and he wasn’t going to allow himself to get his hopes up only for it all to get shattered right to the ground.

But then again, she barely gave him any reason to feel insecure. That was a good sign, right?

Right?

Taglist: @melsunshine @yentroucnagol @alexa4040 @boofy1998 @rorawinters @fan-goddess @howdoichangemynameto