#you could tell bby was tired

[deus-ex-mona]

little brothers and their will to #slay, man </3

[sugugasm]

BET | love and deepspace

⟡ tags : underground boxer! sylus + reader — sylus isn’t afraid of going all in when it comes to you.

ミ★ content warning : fem! reader uses she/her prns, mentions of blood & injuries, mentions of female anatomy as well as male anatomy, oral fem! receive, gentle to rough sex, pet names like bby, dove, kitten, honey, 5.0K WORD COUNT

you step into the dimly lit underground boxing gym, the air thick with the scent of sweat, cigarette smoke, and leather. it’s a seedy place, hidden in the heart of the city’s most notorious neighborhood, where the law doesn’t dare to tread. the crowd tonight is a mix of rough characters - bikers with gang patches on their jackets, local gangsters with glares and expensive watches, shady high-rollers in suits looking to place big bets on the illegal fights.

as you navigate through the throng of people, you spot him in the corner, preparing for his match. sylus - the man who happened to be your ex-boyfriend . . oh, and only the most feared bare-knuckled boxer in the underground circuit. he was a sight to behold, all rippling muscles and newfound tattoos, with messy silver hair that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. you watch as he methodically wraps his hands, his intense red eyes focused on the task.

your history with sylus is complicated, to say the least. you met him two years ago at a biker rally, drawn to his bad-boy charm and undeniable charisma. he swept you off your feet with his daredevil antics on his custom harley and his smooth talking ways. but sylus’s world was always filled with danger, violence, and illegal activities. as the leader of onychinus, the city’s most notorious motorcycle club, he ran an empire built on illicit evol weapons, protocore deals, and underground fighting.

at first, the thrill of it all was intoxicating - the adrenaline rush of riding on the back of his bike, the wild parties at the onychinus clubhouse, watching him dominate in the ring. but as time went on, you grew tired of the constant chaos and the fear that one day, sylus’s risky lifestyle would catch up to him. you wanted stability, a future - things that sylus scoffed at. ‘i live in the moment, babe,’ he would say with that infuriating smirk. ‘and right now, all i want is you.’

but it wasn’t enough. six months ago, after a particularly brutal fight that left sylus battered and bleeding, you reached your breaking point. you told him you couldn’t watch him destroy himself anymore, that you needed more than he could give you. sylus, stubborn and proud as ever, refused to change. ‘this is who i am,’ he growled. ‘so take it or leave it.’ so you left, walking away from the man you loved, determined to build a life free from the violence and uncertainty.

now, seeing him again after all this time, you feel a mix of emotions stirring within you. anger, hurt, frustration . . . but also a undeniable pull of attraction and longing. as if sensing your presence, sylus glances up, his red eyes locking with yours. a slow, confident smirk spreads across his handsome face as he saunters over to you, the crowd parting before him.

“well, well. look who it is,” he drawls, looking you up and down appreciatively. “didn’t expect to see you here tonight, [★]. come to watch me dominate the ring as usual?”

you scoff and cross your arms, determined not to let him see how much his presence affects you. “i’m not here for you, sylus. i’m just here to collect on some bets.”

he chuckles, a deep, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. “sure you are, sweetheart. keep telling yourself that.”

sylus takes a step closer, invading your personal space. he smells like musk and sandalwood, a scent that brings back memories of stolen moments and passionate nights. “i miss you, you know,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. “everything’s been so boring without you around to keep me on my toes.”

you try to stay strong, but you can feel your resolve wavering. damn him and his charm. “i’m not here to rehash the past, sylus. what do you want?”

his eyes glint with a challenge. “make a bet with me - when i win the championship belt tonight, you give me another shot. a chance to prove that we’re meant to be together.”

you laugh in disbelief. “you can’t be serious. we’re done, sy. i’m not falling for your games again.”

“who says it’s a game?” he counters, his expression turning serious. “i know i messed up, [★]. i wasn’t ready before, but i am now. i want you back in my life. i need you.”

you hesitate, torn between your lingering feelings and your better judgment. sylus is a force of nature, wild and untamed. being with him is like dancing on the edge of a razor - thrilling but dangerous. can you really risk your heart again?

“and what do i get if you lose?” you ask, buying yourself time to think.

sylus flashes you a cocky grin. “you know i never lose, kitten. but if by some miracle i do . . i’ll leave you alone. for good. unless you decide you can’t resist me and come crawling back.”

you snort at his arrogance, even as a part of you wonders if he might be right. sylus has always had a hold on you, an undeniable magnetism that draws you in against your will, “fine,” you hear yourself saying, almost as if from a distance. “you’ve got a deal.”

his grin widens, triumphant. “get ready to come back to where you belong, [★] - with me.”

the crowd starts to get louder, chanting and cheering as the lights flicker and dim. it’s almost time for the main event - sylus’s championship fight. he starts to walk towards the ring, but pauses and turns back to face you.

“watch closely now, honey,” he says with a wink. “i’m about to show you what you’ve been missing.”

with that, he strides away, his movements graceful and predatory. you watch him go, your heart pounding in your chest.

what had you gotten yourself into?

as the crowd’s chanting reaches a fevered pitch, sylus steps into the ring, the picture of coiled power and raw aggression. his opponent, a hulking brute known as ‘the mauler’, glares at him from across the mat, pounding his meaty fists together in a show of intimidation. but sylus just smirks, unfazed. he’s taken down bigger, badder fighters than this guy.

the referee calls them to the center, going over the rules - not that there are many in the underground circuit. “no biting, no eye gouging, fight ends with a knockout or tapout. keep it clean . . ish. touch gloves and come out swinging!”

sylus bumps his taped fists against the mauler’s, staring him down with those intense red eyes. then they’re backing away, the air crackling with tension as the crowd falls silent in anticipation.

the bell sounds and the mauler charges forward with a roar, swinging wildly. but sylus is too quick, too skilled. he slips and weaves, dodging the heavy blows, letting his opponent overextend himself. sylus fires off a rapid jab - cross combo, snapping the mauler’s head back and drawing first blood from his nose.

the big man snarls and redoubles his efforts, trying to use his size to his advantage, to trap sylus against the ropes and pummel him. but sylus is like smoke, always just out of reach. he targets the mauler’s weak spots with surgical precision - a knife-hand to the solar plexus to crush his wind, a heel kick to the floating rib, an elbow smash to the jaw.

each blow lands with devastating impact, chipping away at the mauler’s formidable stamina and sending the crowd into a frenzy. they chant sylus’s name like a war cry, thrilling at the sight of the chiseled, tattooed demigod of the ring in his element.

you watch in breathless awe, pulse racing, body heating. damn him. he’s magnificent like this - a perfect fighting machine, all fluid grace and controlled violence. it’s enough to make you forget why you walked away, to let yourself imagine those powerful hands on your body once more . .

a pained grunt snaps you back to the moment as the mauler finally lands a solid hit, a haymaker to sylus’s ribs that sends him staggering. your heart leaps into your throat. but sylus just shakes it off with a feral grin, spitting blood and bouncing on his toes as he beckons for more.

they trade blows in a brutal, lightning-fast exchange, neither giving quarter. the mauler is flagging but still dangerous, pure grit keeping him on his feet. sylus bleeds from a cut over his eye but barely seems to feel it, an unholy light in his gaze as he scents victory.

he presses his advantage with a dizzying flurry of strikes, driving the mauler back . . back . . until he’s pinned against the turnbuckle. sylus hammers his torso without mercy - left hook to the liver, right uppercut to the chin, again, again. the mauler’s knees buckle and sylus steps back, letting him crumple to the canvas.

the crowd erupts as the ref counts it out. at “ten,” sylus throws his hands up in triumph, basking in the adulation. his eyes find yours across the room and the heat in them makes your breath stop. in three long strides he’s out of the ring and hauling you into his arms, crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

for a moment, you forget where you are. forget the mob of rowdy spectators whistling and catcalling. forget every reason you swore you'd never let him back into your heart. all you know is the demanding press of his lips, the steel - cable strength of his blood-slicked body, the intoxicating rush of his victory and your surrender . . .

“looks like i won our bet, babe,” he says smugly, smirking down at you. “hope you’re ready to pay up.”

you scowl, hating how easily he affected you. “one. drink. that was the deal.”

sylus touches his tongue to the seam of his split lip, gaze roving hungrily over you. “oh, i’m just getting started.”

he drags you through the throng of well-wishers and sycophants, his grip on your hand unbreakable. outside, the night air is cool against your overheated skin, charged with tension and the distant growl of engines.

sylus leads you to his pride and joy - that sleek demon of a harley crouched by the curb. the way he straddles the throbbing machine is blatantly sexual, all hard muscles and black leather. he jerks his head at the space behind him.

“c’mon - you know the drill, hop on.”

your hesitation lasts a mere heartbeat before you throw a leg over the bike and wrap your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his back. the rumble of the engine between your thighs and the furnace heat of his body shreds the last of your resistance.

your hesitation lasts a mere heartbeat before you throw a leg over the bike and wrap your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his back. the rumble of the engine between your thighs and the furnace heat of his body shreds the last of your resistance.

then, sylus kicks off and you’re flying, the city lights a neon blur as he opens the throttle. your pulse pounds in time with the roar of the pipes, excitement and desire a heady drug in your veins. by the time he screeches to a stop outside a dingy saloon on the outskirts of town, you’re dizzy with need.

inside, the bar is a den of sin and swagger, all scuffed leather and polished chrome and clinking bottles. eyes follow sylus with a mix of fear and reverence as he stalks to a booth in the back, one possessive hand at the small of your back.

he orders a whiskey, neat, and your favorite poison, not bothering to ask what you want. at your raised eyebrow, he shrugs.

“i remember.”

two words. but the weight of history and unspoken emotion behind them squeezes your heart. your fingers tremble slightly as you raise your glass in a mock toast.

“to your victory. and my reckless wager.”

sylus’ gaze is molten as he clinks his tumbler against yours, gaze holding you captive over the rim as he tosses back the smooth liquid. the slight burn of the alcohol is nothing compared to the smolder of his stare.

“what are we doing, sy?” you ask into the charged quiet, liquid courage loosening your tongue. “why now, after all this time?”

a muscle ticks in his jaw. he looks down, spinning his empty glass, broad shoulders rigid with tension.

“i fucked up.”

his voice is low, raw with a vulnerability you've never heard from him. your breath snags.

“i thought i needed the rush, the rep, the respect. and yeah, maybe i did, for a while. but none of it meant shit without you.” slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, he reaches for your hand — lacing his scarred, tape-wrapped fingers with yours, “i was a coward. i pushed you away because i was scared shitless of how bad i wanted you - needed you. needed your strength, your goodness. you made me want to be better. and it truly fucking terrified me.”

his grip tightens, almost painfully. anchoring you to him.

“losing you . . it broke me, [★]. made me realize that the only thing i’m actually afraid of is living without you.”

sylus swallows hard, his throat working. when he looks up at you, his eyes are blazing with fierce intent.

“i know i don’t deserve another shot. i know i need to earn back your trust. but i swear to whoever may hold my fate, if you give me a chance, i will spend every waking day proving that you’re my whole damn world.”

your heart is a wild bird in your chest, frantic and yearning. you search his face, finding only sincerity and aching tenderness beneath the bruises and blood.

“i never stopped loving you,” you confess, voice breaking. “no matter how hard i tried to hate you . . i couldn’t let you go.”

sylus makes a rough sound, halfway between a growl and a groan. then he’s kissing you, deep and urgent and saying everything he can't put into words. you fall into him, all hunger and desperation, the levee finally breaking on the flood of your need.

“take me home,” you gasp into his mouth, fingers curling in the sweat-damp silk of his hair.

“i thought you’d never ask, dove.”

the anticipation is a living thing as sylus speeds through the lamp-lit streets, the throaty growl of his harley between your thighs a heady reminder of the man commanding the machine. by the time he pulls into the cavernous garage beneath his loft, your body is humming, every nerve ending alight with need.

sylus is on you the moment you dismount, crowding you back against the rough brick wall, his large frame enveloping yours. his kiss is searing, possession and passion, strong hands gripping your hips as he grinds into you. you moan into his mouth, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his leather-clad shoulders, craving more.

“been dreaming about this,” he rasps against your lips, his voice like gravel and whiskey, igniting heat in your veins. “having you back in my arms, in my bed. fuck, [★], need you so bad it's like a sickness.”

“then take me,” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant hunger shining in those crimson eyes. “i’m here, sylus. i’m yours.”

something animalistic unfurls behind his gaze, a primal sort of satisfaction that has you clenching with want. in a burst of movement, he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his lean hips as he strides purposefully to the industrial elevator that will carry you to his domain.

the short ride up is a haze of frantic kisses and roving hands, two years’ worth of pent-up longing seeking outlet. by the time sylus kicks open the door to his loft, you’re both panting, clothes askew and lips kiss-bruised. he carries you straight to the bedroom, a cavern of shadows and silver moonlight spilling across rumpled black silk sheets. when he lays you down in the center of that decadent expanse, the reverence in his touch steals your breath. his battle-scarred fingers shake slightly as they skim over your curves, learning you anew.

“so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, crimson gaze tracking hungrily over your body like he's committing every detail to memory. “can’t believe i almost lost this . . lost you . .”

“never,” you whisper fiercely, reaching up to cup his angular jaw. “i’m here, sylus. right where i belong. and i’m not going anywhere.”

he turns his head to press a fervent kiss to your palm, the heat of his breath making you shiver as his lips graze your fingers — and ever so gently, he bites. then slowly, deliberately, he divests you of your clothes, unwrapping you like a gift. you echo his actions, baring him inch by glorious inch to your avid gaze.

sylus’s body is a work of art, all chiseled muscle and inked skin, a roadmap of violence and survival. you take your time tracing the ridges and hollows, the scars and scrolling tattoos, familiarizing yourself with this new landscape of him. he shudders beneath your questing touch, eyes fluttering shut, a low rumble building in his chest.

“[★],” he grits out, and fuck, how you’ve missed the way he says your name, guttural and raw, like a prayer and a plea. “please, baby . . need to taste you.”

“yes,” you hiss, already aching, empty. “please, sylus.”

granted, he descends on you like a man starved, that talented mouth charting a path of fire over your sensitized flesh. he maps every curve and valley with lips and teeth and tongue, each nip and suck and lap stoking the inferno building in your core.

when he finally settles between your trembling thighs, the first bold stroke of his tongue punches the air from your lungs, your spine arching involuntarily. he groans in appreciation, strong hands splaying your thighs wider, opening you fully to his voracious appetite.

“fuck, i missed this,” he rasps against your slick folds, the vibration of his words making you keen. “missed the way you taste, the sounds you make when i devour this sweet cunt. could feast on you for hours, little one . .”

you whimper breathlessly, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other tangling in his silver hair, holding him to you. sylus takes the encouragement for what it is, sealing his mouth over your aching flesh and suckling greedily. stars erupt in your eyes, pleasure rioting through your veins as he works you ruthlessly, adding clever fingers to his oral assault. he curls them just right, rubbing that secret spot that has you seeing god, all while his wicked tongue paints obscene promises on your clit.

“s-sy, fuck!” you wail, back bowing, thighs clamping around his ears as he drives you higher and higher. “oh god, yes, just like that! don’t stop, please, i’m gonna’ cum . . fuck, baby-”

he doubles his efforts, a man possessed, growling his own pleasure into your core. “that’s it, my love,” he urges gutturally between long, lewd licks. “go ahead and give it to me, wanna’ feel you drench my face, want you gushing on my tongue . .”

his filthy encouragement hurls you over the edge with a strangled scream, release slamming into you like a freight train. you shatter spectacularly, pulsing and clenching around his thrusting fingers, slick gushing into his eager mouth as he works you through the most intense orgasm of your life.

when you finally drift back down to earth, aftershocks still rippling through you, sylus is grinning up at you wolfishly from between your thighs, his beard glistening obscenely with your essence. “fucking incredible,” he rumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your still-twitching center. “could watch you fall apart on my tongue forever and never get tired of it.”

“get up here,” you demand breathlessly, tugging him to you. he comes willingly, settling his considerable bulk over you, caging you beneath miles of warm, hard muscle.

you claim his mouth in a filthy kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue. he responds with matching hunger, hips rocking into the cradle of your thighs, the thick ridge of his erection a brand against your sensitive flesh.

“please,” you whimper into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. “need you inside me, sylus. been too long, i want it . .”

“fuck,” he snarls, the words seeming to snap his restraint. “far too long, honey. be patient, you know i will.” slowly, giving you time to adjust, he notches himself at your entrance and pushes forward, gasping harshly at the tight, wet heat of you enveloping him. “goddamn,” he grits out through clenched teeth, forehead pressed to yours. “silly me. i almost forgot how fucking perfect you feel. like coming home.”

“yes,” you moan, reveling in the familiar stretch and burn of his thick length entering your body. “missed this so much . . missed you . . love you, sylus, so fucking much.”

“i love you too,” he rasps, pulling nearly all the way out before surging back in, starting a deep, rolling rhythm that has your toes curling. “i never stopped, never will. you’re only for me, [★]. only me.”

you lose yourselves to the timeless dance, bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, rediscovering every perfect angle and hidden sweet spot. sylus takes his time, building you back up with long, measured strokes, whispering words of worship into your skin, branding you with his love.

“so good,” he groans, hitching your leg higher on his hip, sinking impossibly deeper. “could stay buried in this tight little pussy forever. never wanna leave.”

“don’t.” you gasp, fingers clawing at his flexing back, desperate for more. “stay — harder, sylus, fuck me harder. wanna’ be able to feel it tomorrow.”

with a low, approving growl, sylus complies, snapping his hips faster, driving into your yielding body with the piston precision of the machine he rides. the wet, obscene slap of flesh fills the room, punctuated by your escalating moans and cries.

“i’m not gonna last,” he warns, rhythm faltering. “too good, too fucking good. tell me you’re close, baby . .”

“s-so close,” you pant, the coil in your belly wound to the breaking point. “just a little more - fuck, right there, sy . . o-oh my —”

sylus hammers into you, grunting with the effort, sweat sheening his skin. he wedges a hand between your straining bodies, finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles. “cum on my cock,” he demands, voice strained. “let me feel that pussy grip me, milk me . .” his words are your undoing, hurling you into oblivion with a keening wail. your inner muscles seize around him, rippling and fluttering, trying to pull him deeper as you drench his driving length in release.

“fuck, yes!” sylus roars, pistoning wildly, chasing his own end. “gonna’ - ah, shit, kitty, i’m cumming!” his climax overtakes him with a force that borders on violence, his cock jerking and pulsing as he spills himself deep in your still-spasming core, painting your inner walls with thick ropes of his seed. you mewl weakly in blissed-out overstimulation, aftershocks rolling through you as he fills you to the brim.

finally spent, sylus collapses onto you, taking care not to crush you with his bulk. you cuddle as sweat and other fluids cool on your skin, hearts gradually slowing in tandem. he’s still stuffed deep inside you and you clench involuntarily around his now-softening length, loving the way he groans, overused nerves sparking. “keep that up and we’ll be going again real soon,” he warns playfully, nuzzling into your neck.

you huff a laugh, carding your fingers through his damp hair. “yeah, yeah,” you tease. “we’ve got time now, sylus. all the time in the world. i’m not going anywhere.”

he raises his head to look at you, crimson eyes soft and full of wonder. “damn right you’re not,” he rumbles, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “i’m never letting you out of my sight again. you’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”

“eh, could be worse,” you quip, grinning up at him. “i think i can handle being stuck with you. it’s only forever, after all.”

“forever,” sylus echoes solemnly, like an oath. “i like the sound of that. you and me. binded as one.”

“ . . . and loving each other stupid every chance we get,” you finish impishly, wiggling your eyebrows.

he barks a laugh, the joyful, uninhibited sound making your heart soar. “oh, that is definitely part of the plan,” he assures you, a wicked gleam in his eye. “gotta’ make up for lost time, don’t we?”

“mmhm, that we do,” you agree readily, warmth suffusing you. “better get started on that. forever’s not getting any longer.”

“as my lady commands,” sylus murmurs, capturing your mouth again as he begins to stir inside you once more.

and as passion ignites anew, the promise of countless tomorrows enfolding you like a benediction, you know this is just the beginning of the ups and downs.

because this love, tempered by loss and longing, by time and truth . . it’s unbreakable. a bond that even the harshest trials will only serve to strengthen.

and with sylus by your side, his heart in your keeping as surely as yours rests in his scarred and steady hands . .

. . you know you can weather any storm.

forever, and then some.

★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent. tagging @ramonathinks <3

[successfulgoddess333]

MENTALLY JUST BE, PHYSICALLY JUST SLEEP

The 3D is a RESULT

If you assume something in the 4D(your mind) watch it unravel in your 3D

Why is this???

I’m gonna yell at you now

BECAUSE THE 3D IS CHANGEABLE AND IT IS SO BECAUSE OF THE FACT THAT IT IS A RESULT

The 3D is a result of assumption

The assumptions you created yourself subconsciously

Manifesting a new job is the same as manifesting

A billionaire status

Stop doubting something that’s so easy

Whether you manifest through The void or whatever other methods it is sooo easy

Quit victimizing and babying yourself and get it the fuck done

Ain’t nobody gonna do it for ya

It’s your life baby you write it design it however the heck you want it to be

I’m not one of those bloggers to be be like “it’s ok pookie if you fail🥹”

NO BITCH YOU CANNOT FAIL

THE VOID IS LITERALLY YOU

YOUR GORGEOUS SELF IS THE REASON WHY IT EXISTS AND YOU OVERCOMPLICATING IT FOR WHAT???

Ignore the 3D

It’s physical

The jeans you’re wearing right now or that hoodie

Is physical

You can change it up for you want

The 3D is that

It’s those jeans that hoodie those socks

Change it

If you don’t wanna wear it

THEN DONT

If you feel like you deserve better

ASSUME BETTER

LOOK IN THAT MF MIRROR AND TELL YOURSELF YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND YOU ALWAYS BEEN THAT BITCH NOBODY IS ABOVE YOU WE ALL FINE AS HELL

JEALOUSY FOR WHATTTTTT

BBY GIRL ITS ALWAYS BEEN YOU YOU ALWAYS BEEN THAT BITCH

YOU TOO PRETTY TO BE SAD YOU KNOW ABOUT THE VOID CUZ THE UNIVERSE SHOWED YOU YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE

ACT LIKE IT GIRL!!!!!!

THIS IS YOUR SIGN TO STOP READING AND GO GET THAT DREAM LIFE

LIKE TF YOU STILL READING FOR

TAKE YOU FINE ASS TO THE VOID AND GET WHAT YOU ALWAYS WANTED

WITH YOUR CUTE SELF😏

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH

BUT STOP SAYING “hoW dO EnTEr tHE vOiD?”

👁️👄👁️

Bitch you just did

YOU ALWAYS DOOOOOO

Jesus peanut butter Christ

Cmon y’all

yOu HavE alWayS dONe tHis!!!!

Every time you go to bed

You’re detaching from the 3D(physical reality)

To be in the 4D reality

All you’re doing is becoming aware of it

Oh my god

How hard is that?!!!!

You’re killing me babes😔✋🏾

Please for the love of jell-o

Understand how easy this shizzz is

Bruh

You’re in the 3D void rn

I know that probably doesn’t exist but hear me out

You’re so attached to this reality right

Every day you are aware that you’re here living in this physical world as a physical being

This is like our 3D version of the void state

It’s not actually the void

But it’s like our state of awareness

Just in this 3D world

We’re aware that we are physical

So to shift your awareness to the 4D simply just

Be aware

Just like you’re aware now

“BUtt hoW dO sTaY aWAkE?”

Who said you gotta be sleepy??

Bitch you could do it rn if you really want to

It’s dumb to think you gotta be tired at to enter the void

NOOOOO

You literally are mentally awake

Your BODY is asleep

So why should you??

It’s different if you wanna tap into it WHILE asleep

Like waking up in it

But you don’t need to be dead tired to do it y’all

Listen bitch

You will never make it if you don’t claim your power and go get it

Stop wasting time stop assuming you fail or it’s hard

YOU DA POWERFUL ONE BABE

Sugar baby it’s all in your hands

You’re the God of your reality

Go make your life the way you want it

Quit spending hours trying to find methods to something to you naturally do every night with NO method

When you go to sleep

You are in the state of just being

You’re just sleep

When you’re awake you’re in the state of awakened awareness

You’re just awake and aware

Soooo in the void mix those two together in the void

Mentally Just BE

Physical Just sleep

Omg my new motto

The key to the void state is

“MENTALLY JUST BE

PHYSICALLY JUST SLEEP”

That’s it

That’s all

And If your favorite celebrities can manifest so can you

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hitchhiker SFW & NSFW Headcannon’s:

a/n: getting my wisdom teeth out in like ten minutes so imma be offline and recovering for a few days. enjoy these head cannons until i get back <3

Tim | SFW:

-lives off of coffee & cigarettes. half the time can’t digest regular food & ends up throwing it up from stress :( poor bby

-despite being a proxy for years, still has reoccurring nightmares that keep him up at night. certain things trigger ptsd episodes, specifically memories of jay or brian (who brian used to be before the operator came along)

-rough exterior, doesn’t believe he’s even worthy of being in your presence or anyone else’s. firmly believes that anyone he interacts with The Operator could and would kill just to fuck with him

-major anger issues that he mainly keeps under wraps, masky’s the one who REALLY shows that side of him

-memory is spotty, but he puts more of an effort to remember things since meeting you

-drinks straight black coffee, absolutely despises cream & sugar. its a miracle this man has any water intake at all

-overly protective, to an intense degree

-enjoys bands like the smiths, the neighbourhood (idc bite me), and cigarettes after sex

Tim | NSFW under the cut:

-tim wants to absolutely worship you. a shameless munch who wants to do nothing more than make you cum on his face

-prefers missionary, wants to bury his face into your neck as he pounds into you

-This man loves nothing more than to hear your pretty noises

‘Fuck, keep moaning my name princess’

-doesn’t care too much about receiving head, would rather please you

-ADORES watching your facial expressions as you cum on his fingers. the little o shape your mouth makes drives him feral

‘Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers?’

-best after care on the PLANET. baths, snacks, cuddles. whatever you want he’s got it ready for you.

Brian || SFW:

-vegetarian (loves tomato soup because it reminds him of what his mom used to make him when he was sick)

-distrusting; even though he tries to attempt from speaking his mind is absolute madness

-lots of ptsd, genuinely fears what happened to him will happen to you

-depressive tendencies. allows hoodie to front when he starts getting too upset

-he doesn’t allow himself to have too many interest or too much of a personality. he lives in constant fear anything he may grow to like or show interest in will be destroyed by the operator

-you instill an unknowingly amount of happiness into his life. an amount so much that he fears he may be beginning to claw his way out of the trenches of despair

-enjoys bands like linkin park, papa roach, and green day

Brian || NSFW

-a TEASE

-this mf wants you to beg for his touch just to turn around & give you what you want & more

-adores the feeling of your nails digging into his back. he gets so turned on by it, it’s borderline nauseating for him

-praise to the absolute MAX

-‘you can take it pretty girl, such a good girl for me’

-possessive & determined to make you feel better then anyone else, especially in group activities

-‘go on, tell tim how good i make you feel’

-loves to overstimulate you to the point of no return. if you aren’t a squirming mess on the brink of passing out from pleasure, he feels like he didn’t do his job right

-wants to manhandle you. something about picking you up as if you weighed nothing to readjust you into the position he wants you in is so addicting to him

-good aftercare, thinks more about cleaning you up than anything else

Masky || SFW

-he’s so tired of being the ‘leader’

-like seriously, he’s sick of it

-firm believer since Hoodie came around first he should be forced to lead the band of misfit toys but he digresses

-thinks tim is a big softie and borderline pathetic, but after he saves you, he thinks more highly of his decision making skills

-when fronting he is absolutely not sleeping. real life is terrifying enough. the last thing he needs is the creativity of nightmares haunting him too

-carries wads of cash in case he’s in a bind. will just throw them at people before storming out of where ever he is

-did i mention anger issues? like to an unhealthy concerning degree? masky believes in punching or shooting his way out of any situation that pisses him off

-delusional but in the best way, imagines you and him to eventually become a bonnie and clyde like duo

-enjoys more edgy bands like three days grace, skillet, and hollywood undead

Masky || NSFW

-there is not a submissive bone in this man’s body

-spitting, spanking, slapping, and choking you really gets him going

-humiliating you and degrading you turns him on so much it’s unbelievable

-‘Fuckin slut. Get yourself off on my tongue. Get on with it before I change my mind’

-Either overstimulation or orgasm denial. No in between

-Gun play. I said what I said. You giving him head while he points a loaded gun at your head drives him feral

-‘Suck it harder or i’ll pull the trigger. Dont think I won’t. You’re not special’

-if you’re into it as much as he is, he’d like to fuck you with his gun🫣

-Lowkey is kinda cruel, enjoy the idea of putting his cigarettes out on you but won’t since he shares you (he doesn’t want to argue with toby/hoodie/brian/tim)

-leaving you covered with bruises in particular is satisfying to him. the shapes of his fingers digging into your waist being there the next day make him hard all over again

-decent aftercare. if we’re being honest you’ll be too dazed to remember most of it. he won’t necessarily cuddle you but he’ll at least clean you with a washcloth before putting you to bed

Hoodie || SFW

-silent but aggressive

-doesn’t enjoy fronting unless it’s to complete a mission or task for the operator

-enjoys stalking his victims just to see what they’re doing before they’re killed🙈

-that ski mask? yeah prefers that mf to stay ON. things that involve you are the only exception he’ll make once he grows fond of you

-him & brian are in an agreement having any real interest is too much risk. of course, they combat this narrative once you come along

-will tell you he doesn’t like music but secretly enjoys shinedown, breaking benjamin, and seether

Hoodie || NSFW

-sadist

-orgasm denial. the sight of you squirming beneath him while begging to cum? euphoric.

-cnc (sorry mom)

-‘shut up and take it. pathetic whore’

-breath play. likes choking but he’d prefer to have you on all fours with a belt around your throat if he’s being honest

-loves recording you. not only to watch back later, but to threaten you with the blackmail

-‘you better behave or i’ll show everyone how much of a slut you actually are’

-hair pulling. whether you pull his hair or he pulls yours. the whimpers that come from it are like heroin

-bondage. if hoodie could have it his way he’d have you tied up and spread out like a starfish on a bed so he could play with you until you break

-probably the worst aftercare out of everyone on this list. doesn’t care for it, thinks it’s your problem. at most will just tell you to pee

Toby || SFW

-toby is pretty much your loyal guard dog. he’s at your disposal and you don’t even realize it

-he never really got an opportunity to be a teenager. now that he’s roughly 21-23, you make him feel like the flustered horny teenager he never got to be

-before you he’s extremely unhinged. toby didn’t have a lot of motivation besides the thrill of a kill. now that you’re around and practically a ball of sunshine, you make him feel something other than blood lust or boredom

-has nice curls but never knows how to take care of them so they always turn out straight since he immediately brushes his hair after a shower

-out of the three proxies he’s the most content with the situation. he views tim and brian as his best friends, even if they don’t feel the same way

-don’t let any of the fluff headcannons deceive you though, there’s a reason he’s a proxy. the unknown strength this man has is concerning. chopping up bodies doesn’t tire him

-enjoys russian roulette. masky and hoodie will play with him on special occasions

-likes to play with fire. if he has an opportunity he will commit massive amounts of arson

-his music taste bounces around everywhere, similar to his personality. top three is violent vira, grimes, and bones

Toby || NSFW

-hardcore switch leaning towards sub

-toby has his dominate moments, most of them just enjoying seeing you blush from his teasing

-‘you like m-me fucking y-you huh? such a p-perfect pussy’

-likes to see you take control.

-i’m sorry but despite being a sub he’s very vanilla, minus a few very specific kinks

-hickies. wants tim and brian to see you’re just as much as his as you are theirs

-cream pies. not even necessarily contributing to a breeding kink, he just likes to watch his cum drip down your abused cunt

-pulling his hair drives him feral. he can’t necessarily feel pain but he feels your eagerness and that’s enough for him

-considering toby can’t feel things his sex drive is extremely high considering it’s one of the few things he can’t actually feel

-one of his fantasies is fucking you with the handle of his axe

-aftercare is peak. he’s just as exhausted as you, but will wait on you hand and foot to ensure you’re taken care of

Nova || SFW

-her dad was a detective, she simply followed in his footsteps

-her parents were very academic driven. praise and affection was only shown to her when she excelled academically

-bi sexual. leans more towards women

-protective, blunt, and head strong

-working in a field that’s pro dominantly men, she ensures to be full of bark AND bite to make sure she’s taken seriously

-became a detective to help people. despite her tough exterior, she genuinely just wants to bring people peace through her work

-obsessive tendencies. once she starts a case she has to finish it. will not rest properly until it’s done

-has a fantastic memory. memorizes all the little details of anyone and everything

-out of the three proxies she likes tim the most, but will never admit she likes any of them

-enjoys hozier, asap rocky, and adeline troutman

Nova || NSFW

-THE BIGGEST SWITCH TO EVER EXIST

-either wants to be called mommy or a good cum dump

-an absolute freak in the bed

-this woman has a chest of sex toys at home of all varieties and sorts

-pegs men

-‘your whimpers are so cute baby boy’

-either wants to put YOU in handcuffs or have you put handcuffs on HER. either way she wants them involved

-doesn’t believe in vanilla sex. if she’s fucking she’s going all in. no lovey dovey shit. just pure feral behavior

-on the other end of the spectrum, loves being fucked into the mattress until she’s dizzy

-‘please keep going, fuck, i’m so close’

-has attended several bdsm sex parties on the down low

-aftercare is peak. she doesn’t gaf ab herself. you’re the star of the show

[jolalibrary]

anytime

javier peña x f!reader

summary: “Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper. Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing the place where the hair sits atop his lip. “Anytime, cariño.” “Anytime, really?”

wordcount: 3.1k. warnings: fluff. bestfriends to lovers. banter. reader wears a dress and has a gloss on lips. no physical description. javi calls reader solecito as a nickname only. likely warnings for spelling as i wrote this on my phone. an: huge thanks to @wildemaven for creating this moodboard (pls go show it some love), letting me make a banner from it, and then letting me write this for Javi instead of Frankie. bby, i hope you like this.

Javi had never been good at avoiding challenging situations.

For the longest time, he’s been finding himself in the centre of a whirlwind—whether in Bogotá, Cali or apparently even back home.

You, his friend, best friend—a well-kept secret, tucked away in his chest, not shared with a soul when he was away. You were a thing that he’d clutched close to his chest from the moment the two of you had first gotten close, through his failed engagement and even more so when he left for Colombia. You, in all your understanding, hugging him, telling him he’d be great, amazing, the very best.

Both of you were younger then, less worn down by life, its many obstacles and all the other things.

You best not become best friends with anyone over there, Peña. As if anyone could annoy me as much as you, solecito.

In the brief interim of his return, you hadn’t appeared all that different. You may have had a job, a house—drove a slightly better car than when the two of you were staying out at all hours—but you, at your core remained very much the fucking same.

Still just as understanding, as kind. A person who got him, without really needing to try.

For Javi, the best thing—outside of you being you and the monthly calls you made him promise to keep when he was drowning in murder, drugs and Escobar—is that you never ask him about it. Any of it.

You had always let him pretend, escape, listen to you fill him in on gossip—things such as disagreements over the size of rhubarb and whether someone was having an affair. A thing you did even when he came back. Even more grateful for it then, when he grew tired of the questions, the compliments, the everything.

Its why he didn’t tell you when he would land back in Laredo for good. Just waiting, standing outside your place, leaning against your car as you walk down the street—eyes brushing over him, pausing, before he gets to see that smile. That signature fucking smile.

When he’d left the first time, he remembers how you’d lingered near your car, unwilling to climb into your bright yellow death trap—the entire reason he called you solecito to begin with—wearing the beginnings of that smile even then.

The difference is now he knows that there was something under it. Hidden, held back, kept from him.

It’s why it meant so much to him when he saw it in all its glory, all alight, blooming and somehow healing.

He can’t explain it, but it repairs strands inside of him. Your presence alone continuing to do so when he meets you for lunches, coffees, and late-night drinks. In exchange, he makes you laugh, your head thrown back as he tells you about whatever he did on the ranch—all of it comical, apparently. Because the idea of him, Javier Peña doing ranch work brought tears to your eyes.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” you splutter, taking a mouthful of your beer as you narrow your eyes.

Nodding, he leans back into the booth, arm stretched out, picking and picking—the label crumbling from the sweating bottle. “Yeah. Bet you’re upset you don’t get to see me herd cattle and mend fences.”

“Oh, yeah. One-hundred-percent.”

Shrugging, he grins—an easy task with you. A thing that has always been that way, even when he turned up at your door when he couldn’t get married; even when the two of you sat under the stars when he told you about possibly going to Colombia. You still made him grin—even when things weren’t fucking easy at all.

“I’ll add it to my to-do list—visit Peña on the ranch—it’s currently sat under finding a dress, a boyfriend and the will to fucking live.”

Snorting, he traces his bottom lip with his thumb.

Your face scrutinises him, before rolling your eyes. And he just waits—because you always spill eventually.

One. Two. Th—

Fine, you huff, before it unravels from you. How the wedding of your work colleague is close, closer than I thought and you’re tired of attending these things alone, circled like a fucking fish by single sharks.

And he’s listening, taking it in. Trying to not wince at how high-pitched you’ve got as you’ve ranted.

Mainly, Javi finds there’s more questions rising than answers provided.

One singular one rising to the top. A thing he’s wanted to ask for the last few weeks. Not in a rude way, or in the way it burns inside his chest when he talks to you on the phone and he has to bury it. But, it’s there, bubbling, wishing to escape and know. It's even louder when the two of you are like this, crammed in a space, laughing, smiling, sharing, wondering—

Why are you even single? How are you?

You’ve mentioned people—names, here and there when the two of you had been on the phone. Them fluttering out before you can pull them back, but then they’re forgotten. Javi, I get one call a month—let me tell you about the cattle war going off. And, in a way, he didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to know, so he never asked.

Now, it’s all he wants to ask.

Because you’re… you. You’re brilliant, beautiful—funny, clever, witty. And yet—

“—so, now it’s a week out, and I need to find a dress, a date and drive there to watch another person I know get married.”

He knows he should busy his mouth with the bottle—wrap his odd idea in beer. But, that part of him—the one which wants to help, solve issues, and be useful—rises up in him like a phoenix left from the ashes of Colombia.

“I’ll go with you.”

He expects the pause, even braces for the look of shock.

He doesn’t expect the smirk. Doesn’t expect the way it spreads out, to hit your eyes. How under the low-bar light over the table, it makes your eyes glimmer and fucking shimmer.

“You want to go to a wedding with me?”

Shrugging, he picks off the last part of the label—the mess of it all circling around where the glass meets the wood.

Mirroring him, you shrug. “Alright.”

“Alright.”

He should take his eyes off you, but he finds he can’t.

Javi hasn’t been able to since you stepped out of your place, a handful of your dress as you locked up—stepping down your steps to his car, letting it flutter down to your ankles.

You look like a fucking dream.

A thought he knows he shouldn’t have—but has all the same. His heart staggered, half-halting in its hammering as his hands paused in their drumming on the steering wheel; his glasses slid down his nose, his skin suddenly warm all over, even if his jacket was already splayed out across the backseat.

Close your mouth, Peña.

I’m chewing gum, solecito.

Yeah, that’s why your mouth is open.

It hadn’t passed his notice that you were good-looking before today. He’s known you were, had always known it—he had eyes, after all. But, he’d always felt there was a line. A line the two of you never delved too close to step over. The sign above both of your heads already illuminated in bright bulbs and flashing lights:

JUST FRIENDS.

Until this, anyway. This thing that can only be described as the longest one-hour drive he’s ever been on. And he used to do recon with Murphy.

Because you’re teasing, taunting him. All in that usual way that you do. And it’s so easy to flirt back, to let line after line roll, but he has begun to spot you squirming.

Doing so while matching his suit in a deep brown shade—chosen by him, ‘pick a colour suit, Javi’. Adding a tinge to some of your comments—things that if said by someone that wasn’t you, he’d ask them (flirtingly) if they were coming on to him.

But with you, it’s something he can never be sure. Never something that can be completely understood, known, cracked or figured out. In the same way, he can’t understand how your perfume keeps following him. How it embeds itself into the cabin of his truck when he picks you up, sews itself into his clothing when the two of you meet—and right now, is attempting to bury itself in his skin, muscles, and bones.

“You’ve been abnormally quiet.”

Smirking, he snorts. Fingers smoothing out his hair as he swings into a spot—the tyres crunching over the gravel. “Have I? Or have you just not shut up.”

“Rude.”

Laughing, he cuts the engine—hands resting on the top of his thighs, not missing the way your eyes follow his movements before clearing your throat. It shifts something in him, makes a little part of him surge, like the smallest of fireworks suddenly erupting in his chest.

Something he forces himself to shut down the moment you shove open your door, slipping out, as he grabs his jacket.

“Do I need to be worried about you crying today, solecito?”

Rearranging your dress, and slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you squint as you stand tall, hand covering your brow as you meet his gaze.

And fuck, with this backdrop, even squinting, you look beautiful, radiant, stunning all over again. Somehow his brain having forgotten when you were next to him, when you were acting as if this was the most normal fucking thing they’ve ever done.

It isn’t.

Something he’s becoming more aware of as his throat goes dry, and his thoughts slow to nothing—

“No, you’re good. Your mouth is open again.”

You say it with a smirk, all teasing—making heat lick up his spine all over again. And, if you were anyone else, he’d have already pulled you close, tilted your chin up, and likely smothered your mouth with his.

But, you’re his friend—his best friend. The one solid thing he’s had in his life since he became a name, a poster, a hero.

“C’mon,” you say, turning on your heel as you head in the direction of the entrance, him following, jacket slipping on as he mutters mouth isn’t fucking open under his breath.

Even if he knows it was. Even if he’s desperately trying to stop his eyes from descending down to your hips, eyes fixated on the way you walk with ease to the wooden sign which greets all the guests.

He knows, due to his absence from home, there haven’t been many weddings he’s attended. Least of all like this. But even he thinks this is over the top, suddenly understanding why you hadn’t wanted to come alone. Because grand doesn’t quite cover it—not after the last one he’d attended.

This one has flickering candles lit in the day, waiters all set to hand glasses of bubbles and offer little mouthfuls of flavour on silver trays. Then, there’s the backdrop—the enormity of the building, only for you to tell him that it’s an outside wedding.

It’s more of a comfort as to why his hand drops to the small of your back than anything else. A need to be rooted, to feel calmer as he nods at passing people he doesn’t know (and hopes don’t know him), feeling you curl into him subconsciously, your bag swinging between the two of you both—affording a gap, forcing it, in fact.

The ceremony will start soon.

He overhears it, as he assumes you do, because your fingers wrap around his wrist—taking it from your back, before your palm meets his, and then you’re guiding, leading. Dragging him. All willingly to the back of the building where he sees it—the makeshift aisle. A wooden arch, and lots of deep orange-brown chairs all line up on either side of an orange aisle.

“Glad we chose brown now,” he murmurs.

“Does it make you think, y’know—being at a wedding?”

He swallows. Because it’s a loaded question.

One he assumes has been sitting all politely on the tip of your tongue since you sat beside him in his vehicle. It’s why his eyes watch you carefully as you grab the two of them a flute each from a passing waiter. Handing it to him, adding nothing—not rescuing him. Just waiting instead, doing that thing you do, where your eyes widen as you wait, trying to look all innocent even though it’s you who has just dropped a live grenade into the centre of the conversation.

Shaking his head, he snorts. “No. Not really. Knew… I knew deep down it wasn’t right. Her… and me.”

“You got any idea what’s right?”

You take a sip this time when the question lands, it again sparkling in glittered innocence, the softest of smiles pressed against the glass.

You he thinks. But he swallows that away and says ‘Not a fucking clue’ instead.

Throughout the day, he’s been desperate for a reason to stop looking at you.

So far, he’s found none.

Bits and pieces of things Murphy used to say, the words he’d drop into conversation when talking about his wife: how he knew, why she was the one, all coming back to him in drips and drops.

It dawns on him, the same as it had done since before he went to Cali, that you might mean a little more than a friend. A lot of what Murphy used to say, so easily applied to how Javi felt about you.

You make him feel calmer, create a space where he can relax, really unwind. It’s easy, uncomplicated, when he’s with you—from the conversation to the things he thinks. Complex balled thoughts stretch out until they’re in easy-to-decipher lines, able to process, able to understand.

He even told you about the boats.

A secret he’d have been prepared to take to the grave, if not for the fact you pointed out he wasn’t sleeping. Your eyes watching, pleading, don’t lie to me. And fuck, he couldn’t—not even if he wanted to.

That should have been the first sign.

He guesses he should be thankful today has been stuffed with more of them. One after the other. From the way you made sure to make him a plate of only his favourite things, to the way you knew when he needed a bit of space from the thousand questions as to how you both knew one another, and what he does.

Now, Javi is on the sidelines, admiring you in a way that makes his heart double in size.

Your dress skims around your calves as you dance—your arms rising above your head, glee stitched itself from cheek to cheek. On occasion, time halts when your eyes land on his—stealing whatever thought he had, only resuming normality when you close your eyes, belting out the lyrics to the song.

Mainly, the thought he finds which keeps returning is: I wanna do this with you again. any place. any time.

A hollowness scratches out in his chest as he lets himself acknowledge it. A thickness growing in his throat, a sorrowness weighs down on his shoulders as he nurses his glass—hand in his trouser pocket, telling himself he should be content he got to be on your arm, got to have you against him during a slow dance over an hour ago. That he gets to see you smile, hear your laugh—even know you.

“Hey, Peña.”

“Hey solecito.”

You grin—a little breathless, the music having changed, becoming slower, softer—wrenching the glass from his hand as you drain it.

“Fuck me. Y’thirsty?”

“Very. You’d know if you had any rhythm.”

He pinches you, lightly—teasingly. Your grin shifts into a laugh, tucking yourself in against him, arm around his back. And fuck, the way you’re looking up at him, he wants to warn you.

If you look at me like that, I’m going to kiss you.

Javi wonders what you’d do if you did. Whether you’d pull away, hissing the two of you are friends. Or whether you’d kiss him back.

“Want to get some fresh air?” you ask, your words against his ear—lips so close to ghosting his skin.

“Sure.”

It’s cooler when the two of you step out from under the marquee, the music getting quieter when your fingers loop in his, guiding, easing him around plant pots and tall trees, until the two of you are descending marble stairs and past iron fencing, to take him to the perimeter, to the view looking out over the city.

He watches as you step forward, fingers around the iron fencing, leaning, staring out as you let out a heavy sigh. One laced with things he wants to ask for, tug it from you, let you unload whatever is weighing on you—because that’s what you both do for one another.

You make it easy.

Make it all bearable.

But, whether you mean to, or not, you shiver. A light one, barely noticeable by most—but he isn’t most. His fingers are already at the button, undoing it, sliding his jacket down his arms before he places it over your shoulders, watching your head turn, meeting his gaze.

“You look really pretty.”

Flicking your eyes down, you smile. Sweetly. Unreadably. “Well, you’ve always been pretty.”

“Pretty?”

Laughing, your fingers tug his jacket closer, burying yourself in it. “The prettiest, Javier.”

Leaning beside you, he feels the metal from the railings, you’re both resting on, cut into his palms. He wonders if you feel the same, your dress billowing in the gentle breeze as the two of you stare off into the distance, spotting the flickering lights of a city, of homes tucking in for the night.

Then he turns his head, finding you already watching him, studying him in a similar way as you were before.

And, he lets his eyes drop to your mouth. A sign. A signal. It’s not the first time, usually, he does so when you’re not looking, letting himself trace the curve of your lips. Now, he stares at the way your gloss has long since gone, left behind on glasses and straws.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper.

Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing where the hair sits atop his lip.

“Anytime, cariño.”

“Anytime, really?”

Nodding, he swallows. A thousand things he’s thought, and felt, all rushing to the surface—unwilling to bury itself, to descend under the usual guilt and feelings of inadequacies when it comes to you.

“I’d do anything for you.”

Smirking, you tilt your head. “Anything?”

Biting your lip, he feels it—something thrumming in him, being plucked.

“Will you kiss me?”

“I could…”

Your brows rise, a louder cheer coming from inside, but it doesn’t do anything to tear your eyes away from the other.

The whole world could slowly vanish from around the two of you, and all he’d want is just to stare at you.

“But?” you ask, delicately.

Almost so softly, it makes his chest ache.

Dipping his head, he lets his gaze wash over the place again—the rolling land, the trees, the houses in the distance.

“If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You slide closer, shoulder to shoulder, eyes scorching his jaw, his neck, the side profile he can feel you tracing with your gaze.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His neck almost cracks with the quickness of his movement, his eyes scanning, reading, a part of him wanting to step back, and protect you. Because he’s not sure about the parts of him you’d find easy to love—

“You don’t know what you’re—“

“Don’t care,” you interrupt, fingers twitching on the lapel of his jacket. “I know you—Javi, not Agent Peña. I know the boy who cloud-watched with me when my parents wouldn’t stop fighting; I know the man who told me to stop sending him postcards from the town shop—but also whispered that he liked them.”

Snorting, he smiles.

“So, if you want to, no pressure—but, I think you should kiss me.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you bite your cheek. “Think you’ve wasted a lot of time not kissing me already, honestly.”

Of course you do, he thinks. And then he kisses you, palms on your cheeks, slanting his mouth over yours.

And fuck, it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever done.

an: honestly, this made me so fucking happy to write.

[darkestspring]

I want some papa Aegon II content with toddler daughter who came first before the twins. How hypocritical as it sounded, he definitely favoured her among her siblings just as Vizzy T favoured Rhaenyra. Perhaps he named her Visenya (He calls her ‘Senya), the name his eldest sister wanted for her daughter, since she named one of her sons Aegon with Daemon.

She’s a lil’ dreamer too with a hyperfixation with nature in general, but a little delight. So he basically encourages her to be a little rebellious while Helaena is a wholesome, doting mom who loves her bby.

Aegon would without a single hesitation name Senya his favorite if he was asked, you don't even have to ask, he'll tell you his five favorite things about her with no prompting.

Aegon loves her, he adores her, he would set this world on fire if she asked it.

Sure, there was the twins. The twins are great, he brings Jaehaerys to his council meeting sometimes but he loves watchign Senya toddle in with a bouquet of daisies in her hand and she gives them to each person she sees before giving her leftover to her papa. He loves them, he has someone put them in vases and then he has them pressed into bookmarks or things like that after Helaena suggested it (the only suggestion he actually took seriously)

He's always entering Helaena's room to ask about her whereabouts when he can't find her.

"She's out picking flowers, you shouldn't disturb her. She's on a very important mission." Helaena put emphasis on on important as she looked back down to the daisy she was embroidering in the handkerchief for Visenya.

Aegon made a face before he got up. "She'll need help if she's to pick a lot of flowers, I'll get a basket." He quickly found an excuse to follow after his daughter while Helaena watched him leave with a deadpanned face.

Did he really think he could fool her?

"Papa!" Visenya's smile was as bright as the sun as she beamed a smile up at her papa. "I've collected so many flowers! I even found a sunflower! I'll give it to you since i love you a lot."

He'd never get tired of hearing those words, that she loved him. She loved him not out of obligation or for lies, she genuinely loved him as her father.

"I've come to help my princess, shall I hold the basket full of flowers for you while you pick." He smiled at her, ignoring the words of his guard that he was the king and above such silly thing.

He turned and glared at him, waiting under the guard was completely quiet under he turned back to his daughter. "Hm? What do you say, Senya?"

"I'd love that! With Papa, I'll pick so many flowers! For Papa, for Mama, for Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, and uh.... everyone else too!"

How lovely his child was. He'd do anything for this smile.

[tetsumie]

hey! saw that you were accepting reqs for your 1k event (which congrats btw! so deserved) so was wondering if you could do kuroo w/ the prompt "do you love me?" and let it be hurt/comfort plspls & i couldn't think of an au so uh maybe college au ?? (you can pick the au if you don't feel that one) but yeah tysm and u totally don't need to write it if you're too busy. once again congrats on 1k!

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

pairing: college student!kuroo x reader

genre: comfort

content: you come home after a long day to find solace in kuroo who reminds you that you're not alone.

cw: feelings of insecurities and late night overthinking thoughts

a/n: hi anon bby sorry for posting this so lateeee i've been in a little slump lately but writing this helped me out of it so i appreciate you lots! enjoy! (also this is lwk self indulgent sooo hahahahaha)

if burn-out could take human form, it would be you.

it's a late friday night when you finally come home from a long shift from your part-time job. the door closes behind you with a quiet click, and you find yourself sliding down against it, your back pressed against the cold wood. your legs are outstretched in front of you, head bowed low, and your arms lie limp at your sides.

god, you're so tired.

"hey," a familiar voice speaks up and pulls you out of your thoughts. "welcome home."

you slightly lift your head and see that he's crouched down beside you, honey-colored eyes looking at you with concern.

you blink in surprise. "tetsu? what are you-"

"your roommate let me in," he cuts you off, as if he anticipated your question. "don't worry, they're not here, they're out for the night."

"oh."

kuroo studies your features with his gaze lingering on the exhaustion etched into your features. you look so worn out and drained.

he can’t help but feel a pang of worry run through his body.

with no hesitation, he scoops you up in his arms which is answered with a surprised yelp from you. "alright you big baby, let's go take a nice bath, yeah?"

you find yourself sitting in front of him with your chest against his back in the bathtub. the scent of the vanilla bath soap fills the air, and the soft glow of candlelight creates a serene ambiance. kuroo’s chest radiates his warmth as he runs reassuring circles on your shoulders.

"you've been so busy lately, hm?" kuroo starts.

you hum in agreement. "yeah, i guess."

he can feel the tension in your body, the weight of you carrying everything. his fingers trace your body: from your delicate shoulders down to your arms, in hopes of easing the heavy weights on your back.

"have you been picking extra shifts at your job?" he asks, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"yeah," you reply, defeated. "my rent isn't gonna pay itself, y'know."

"i know, baby, i know." he gives a tender kiss on your shoulder blade. "i'm glad we could spend some time together today though. you really need a break."

"i'm okay," you say out loud.

are you trying to convince him that you're okay or yourself?

you turn your head to face him and his flushed cheeks are close to yours.

he's so handsome.

without thinking, your hand reaches out to his face, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. he smiles into the kiss, holding you close, refusing to let you go just yet. he lets you cling to him for the rest of the time in the tub as he washes the dirt and tension off your back.

later, as the both of you dry up, kuroo can't help but keep sneaking glances at you.

he knows you’re tired.

he could tell from the moment you were slumped against the front door. he sees it in the distant look in your eyes, the way your mind always seems to be elsewhere, even when you’re together

his whole world (you) was falling apart.

he knew that you were overworking yourself, pushing yourself beyond your limits, and he felt helpless watching it all unfold in front of him.

and to top it off, you’d been avoiding him, making excuses.

something is wrong.

after changing into one of your (his) oversized t-shirts and a pair of shorts, you crawl into bed, patting the space next to you. kuroo takes that as his cue and hops in, beginning to envelop you in his embrace.

your face is in his chest as he's wrapped his big arms around you. you mumble some incoherent words which has him releasing his grip on you.

"what'd you say?" he cocks an eyebrow.

you hesitate, feeling a bit embarrassed to repeat what you said only a few moments prior.

"do you even love me anymore?" you mumble, eyes looking away from him.

he sits up straight now, hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look him in the eye. "what are you even talking about dumbass?"

"i know i haven’t been spending enough time with you and i get if you’re feeling frustrated and annoyed with me…"

he looks at you with a straight face, making him difficult to read.

nonetheless, you continue to pour out your feelings.

"i know i'm a handful and i don't want you to be here because you feel obligated to. i'm sure there are other things that you'd rather be doing right now and i feel bad that you're here when you could be out with your friends doing fun stuff."

your words hang heavy in the air now.

the burden of the past weeks plus the internal guilt you’ve been feeling was finally spoken out into the universe.

it's dead silent and the guilt is suffocating you. you refuse to look up from your lap until he utters out, "so that's what this is about?"

your eyes lift from your fidgeting fingers, widening as you're met with kuroo's piercing, calculating gaze, accompanied by a smirk and a quick flick to your forehead

"ow!" you start rubbing the throbbing part of your head. "what the hell was that for?"

"that was for being a fucking dumbass."

"but i didn't even do anything!"

"you did when you started doubting yourself and letting your insecurities get to you," he says firmly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"i know you’ve been busy and preoccupied lately and that’s okay, yeah? don’t feel bad about being busy, yeah? that should be the least of your worries. i’m here to pick our relationship up when it gets too heavy for you."

guilt washes over you, mingling with the love you feel for him.

he’s so understanding, so patient... you don’t feel worthy of him.

and almost as if he could read your mind, he keeps going.

"i’ll say this as many times as you need me to: i’ve never felt 'obligated' to be with you or whatever that bullshit means. i’m here because i want to be, not because i have to. i love you, and i want to be here for you."

he looks down at you with your eyes looking up at him. his heart skips a beat at the sight. you look so adorable right now with your a slight pout enveloping your features. he can't help but let a smile escape his lips.

"i’m here because i love you,” he repeats, his voice steady and sincere. “have i not told you how much you mean to me enough?"

you shake your head, immediately. "n-no! you always tell me!"

"i just have been really been in my feelings lately and i've been just trying to keep myself occupied so i don't start spiraling," you look away from kuroo.

"and that's okay, yeah?" he strokes your hair. "no matter what, i promise i’ll try my best to be there for you. i want to be here for you."

he kisses the top of your head. "i love you, my pretty. don't you ever forget that."

you wrap your arms around his neck and start peppering his face with small kisses. before you know it, you're lying on top of him now and your faces are only mere centimeters apart from one another. you can feel his breath on your chin and the lingering scent of his cologne infiltrate your nostrils.

"i’m sorry i haven’t been around you more," you whisper, guilt still gnawing at you.

"it's okay, my love. i promise," he reassures you once more. "i'm glad i could be here."

"i love you, stupid," you tell him, placing a quick kiss on your lips.

"i know," he laughs, pulling you back to his lips and letting you go for a quick second. "i love you too." and he continues to kiss you and hold you for the rest of the night until the sun rises.

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[lxvemaze]

hi you! i’m back again ♥️ how about skz ot8 where reader is taller than him?

i always see ones where reader is shorter etc but as a 5’8” girlie i’m only shorter than Seungmin, LeeKnow & Hyunjin 💀

thank you bby, your 🦇 anon

🦇 anon, i LOVE YOU. as a 6'0 girl, i am so tired of fics where the reader is tiny and itty bitty and changbin and bangchan dwarf her 💀 like, nothing against people who portray reader like that, but it feels so weird to read like, "changbin towers over your tiny body" bc i am literally half a foot taller than him. it feels kinda stupid, but it honestly makes me feel kind of like, undesirable? like, it feels soooo dunb to say, but the fact that there's like, no "tall girl representation" lowkey makes me feel kinda shitty. so, here you go!!! this one is dedicated to all my fellow tall queens❤️

skz with a tall!s/o !

pairing: ot8 x tall!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: one or two suggestive comments, nothing too much

⚝bangchan:

lemme tell you, this man LOVES having a taller girlfriend. it's like, a point of pride for him. he loves it when he can easily spot you in a crowd and make his way over to you. also, he would be hard-pressed to admit it, but this man LIVES to be the small spoon. he's busy all day taking care of his six kids, at the end of the day, he just wants to go home and be cuddled by his beautiful tall girlfriend. he loves when he's introducing you to other people (especially men), and you're just like, towering over them, and he's like "this is my girl :3" he just feels so proud when other men look up at you with their mouths agape bc they never would've expected bangchan's girlfriend to be THAT tall. i think he likes knowing that men are too scared to approach you, so he has nothing to worry about. i didn't say this but he also likes the fact that even though you're taller than him he can still pin you down. SAY WHATTTT????

⚝leeknow:

for minho, i think he outwardly acts like he doesn't care, but he secretly really likes being with a taller girl. like, on the outside, he's like, "yeah, whatever. she's taller than me, so what?" but on the inside, whenever he's standing next to you, (especially if you're wearing heels) and he turns to look at you and sees you looking down and smiling at him, trust that he is FIGHTING the urge to start blushing and giggling. tbh, i don't think he'd even let you know exactly how much he loves your height difference. i think he's too like, idk, nervous?? to say it?? obviously, you know he loves you, but i think that he would keep just how much he loves it to himself.

⚝changbin:

changbin is another of the boys that would loudly and proudly love his tall girlfriend. bonus points if you're also a gym rat. this is a man that would love to show you off at any and every occasion. like, he is PROUD that he managed to bag a tall queen. like, he relishes in the fact that you could throw around any of his members. probably jokes about having you come over and beat them up if they're annoying him. and he LOOOVES the fact that even though you're taller than him, he can still pick you up and... you know, do whatever. he knows that you as a tall girl, tend to get seen as a more domineering and dominant person just bc you're tall, (especially if you're also athletic) so he loooves to treat you like the pretty princess you are, and remind you just how beautiful you are.

⚝hyunjin:

tbh, i think that hyunjin might be the one that loves having a tall girlfriend the most. like, bangchan and changbin think it's really cool, minho gets all giggly over it, but hyunjin is quite literally obsessed with you. he treats you like you hang the moon and the stars- like you're his own personal goddess sent down from the heavens for him to worship. you become his muse, his deity, everything he draws, paints, and writes becomes related to you in some way. he's a fairly tall guy himself, so when he first met you, he was just absolutely awestruck. you would never feel insecure about being the taller one in the relationship, bc he would constantly be reminding you just how much he loves it.

⚝han:

i think jisung is second only to hyunjin when it comes to loving his tall girl. he relishes in the fact that you can reach the top shelf of the cupboard without having to go on your tippy toes. he loves it when you guys go out to a party or something, and you're just talking in a small group, and jisung is not listening at all- he's just staring up at you like "(●´ω｀●)" he doesn't even care when the others tease him for being shorter than you, bc he really genuinely loves the fact that you're taller than him. (he would ironically say "uppies" and then immediately gag bc that is such a fucking cringe thing to say)

⚝felix:

honestly, i think felix is one of the few that just wouldn't really care if you were taller or shorter than him. like, i really just think that he wouldn't care about it at all. early on in the relationship, you'd express to him that you felt a bit insecure over the fact that you're noticeably taller than him, and he's just like "???what???", bc the thought that you might care about the difference was just so???? like??? the thought genuinely just hadn't crossed his mind. after you told him about your insecurities, he'd start occasionally reassuring and complimenting you on your height, your long legs, how elegant your height made you look, etc. because although he really doesn't care about the fact that you're taller than him, he wants you to secure in your height and relationship.

⚝seungmin:

i think people like to peg seungmin as the nonchalant, chill, doesn't really care much type boyfriend, but I SAY OTHERWISE. i think that in public, he's definitely very nonchalant, acts like he doesn't really care about the height difference, and just brushes off any comments about it. but in PRIVATE??? bro is ALL OVER THAT. he is so in love with your height, he feels so giddy when you kiss the top of his head, or stand behind him to help him reach something from the top shelf. omg, it makes him feel so silly and giggly. he would NEVER let the other guys see how giggly he gets around you, so it's just your little secret how much he loves your height.

⚝jeongin:

to be COMPLETELY HONEST, i think jeongin would be hesitant to date a taller girl at first. it's not that he's insecure about his height or anything, he just always would've thought that he'd be more into girls that are shorter than him. or like, he just didn't wanna feel like a little kid while walking with his girlfriend. it's not that he was against tall girls or anything, he'd just never been really interested in any taller girls before you came around. i think in the earlier days of your relationship, he was still a bit put-off by the fact that you're like, definitely noticeably taller than him and there's no way he can say you're not. but tbh i think chris was just like, "Bro, she cannot change her height, either get over it or break up." and that knocked some sense into him, and now he thinks your height difference is really cute.

thank you so much for reading, ily all!!!

[skymar13]

The bakusquad reacting to you dying in battle

I was in the mood to feel hurt

: angst

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Bakugo

Bakugo liked you for a long time since you’d snapped back at him during the first mock battle he knew he was interested in you and after that he mindlessly protected you in every attack, he’d never tell you about his crush though how could he? When the war happened he’d never thought one of his biggest regrets would be not telling you the first chance he got

You and him were placed in the shigaraki dome something he was subconsciously happy about meaning he could protect you if you were injured (poor bby) you had been using your quirk on shigaraki wearing him to lower his resolve you knew you had eraser and monoma behind the scenes taking control of his quirk so what was this? Why was shigaraki growing? He grabbed you suffocating you then dropping your lifeless body right in front of bakugo he had no time to register it he just knew he had to fight back after the whole ideal he runs back to your body begging you to wake up and show that you’re okay but the only thing that he got in response was your head falling limp to the other side he cried that day he had so many regrets

Out of his many regrets one stood out to him the fact he was too pussy to tell you how much loved you and now he had to confess in broken sobs

Kirishima

You guys had been dating since the sports festival where you had totally beat his ass. He had a huge crush on you before hand but that’s when he knew he’d make you a wife (not in this life time tho). He knew you were strong so he trusted you to return safely to his arms after the battle.

He was tired he gave it his all and he knew you had too he wanted nothing more than to hold you and celebrate yalls success together. He had plans of a relaxing spa day with endless cuddle and naps. All that came crumbling down as he sees endeavor carrying your lifeless body through one of the warp gates at first he convinces himself you’re just tired or really injured he runs over to endeavor getting a closer look at you when he’s 3 feet away he can see the repeated stab wounds in your chest some so deep the meat was showing endeavor places you on the floor awaiting medical help. Kiri gets closer falling to his knees as he cradles you in his arms shouting for you to wake up to stop playing he says his I love yous and he shakes cradling your face

You had returned to his arms that day, just not the way he would’ve liked.

Denki

He’d had a major crush on you since the entrance exams when he saw you walk in confidently and take down so many of the robots when he saw you in his class he was delighted that the heavens blessed him with your presence. He immediately worked his magic and started flirting you up. It had taken you a while to reciprocate his advances way too late. You weren’t official but smth in your gut told you you could be saying good bye for the last time. Before your departure you shared your first kiss it wasn’t anything intense but it signified your feelings.

He wasn’t aware that you had died until afterwards he saw a bunch of your team mates start filing into the area and he waited for you bouncing up and down excited to share his point of view. Then he sees the recovery robots carrying a cot with your body on it he runs up scared that you must’ve been hurt but as he gets closer he sees your face deprived of color and eyes lifelessly glossy mouth slightly ajar. He knew you’d died just by the look of you. He breaks into sobs and bangs on the floor throwing a tantrum begging for you to come back before he’s pulled off of you by Aizawa and into a hug when he repeatedly grabs him asking why you?

That day you guys had shared your first and last kiss

Sero

You and sero were supposed to be middle school sweethearts. He’d asked you out during your 3rd year of middle school under the cherry blossom trees. Wonderfully you guys had lasted into your first year of hs technically your second if the war hadn’t happened. You guys had been partnered in the same area which he was thankful for.

You had been engaging into close combat with a villain who had a plant quirk. She’d gotten on top of you pressing her hand to your chest. You hadn’t even realized what had happened before you blacked out and just like that you were gone. When sero looked over to you he sees a giant cherry blossom tree emerging from your chest. He feels his heart shatter into a million pieces as he rounds up the rest of the villains he runs over to your body not being able to shake you or get to hold you one last time due to the size of the tree he sobbed and cried for hours until they announced it was over

Cherry blossoms had always been a symbol of your guys love, but now it’d be a reminder of your death.

Mina

You and her had a secret relationship something so sweet that only you and her could share the private kisses and touches or silent sleepovers in each others dorms your relationship was something only you two has shared.

You had the pleasure of going against all for one along with your awesome girlfriend to say you were hyped was an understatement you’d been training for this moment since your extra training had begun. You’d gotten close to landing the final blow before he had stolen your quirk yanking you by the neck slamming your body into the ground repeatedly until there was no possibility of you making it out alive, Mina heard the repeated gash of your body hitting the ground the repeated gags and gurgles until you fell silent with a final thud as he drops you to the ground mercilessly she wanted to but she couldn’t run over to you and hold you and check on you she was as occupied with trying to get out with her own life. Afterwards she held your cold lifeless body blood covering herself , her suit and the ground she places a kiss to your lips with a hushed I love you

You never had the chance to go public who knew your death would be the way people found out

Jirou

She’d always been used to being in the shadows a quiet person people often forgot about. That was until she met you. You never made her feel forgotten or in the shadows you brought a light to her life as if she was a candle you had a physical quirk and while she does not so she promised to support you from the side lines

She was listening to the fight recording it and making sure it was going correctly until she hears your broken sobs your team mates had been too busy you were in the shadows and couldn’t get free from the villain he pointed his weapon to your head shooting you quickly then again for safe measures. Jirou heard the gun shots she prayed it wasn’t you it had to be someone else it just had to be. When she comes out from her spot she sees your dead body slouched on a wall blood flooding from your forehead a picture of you and Jirou falling out of your costume as she leans to you hugging your body silently sobbing and asking someone to help you

You’d made her feel like a lighten candle but as always you have to blow it out eventually

[jakesgoodgirl]

꣑୧ licking sunghoon veins - mdni

you were waiting for sunghoon to come over after his late dance practice, you already done w your night routine, shower done n dinner eaten. sunghoon always comes already feed n cleaned as he wants to spend his entire time for and with you when he comes n not on mundane chores. so as he arrives, he would take off his outside clothes n comes straight to find u in bed, i've missed you princess, he would tiredly say, as he climbs under the blanket. how was practice ? youd asked making him sleepy smile, im so tired, baby, he'd reply, his hands encircling you in a hug, is it okay if we just fall asleep baby ? youll tell me bout your day for breakfast, okay ? he would then add, kissing the top of you head. but as he tells you so, you saw his veiny hands, strocking affectionly your arm skin, slowly turning you on. as he slowly falls asleep, his rubs slowing, you couldn't stop but thinking about his veins full on display. hoonie ? lemme take care of you, you softly whisper as you move away from his grip, straddling his lap, wanting nothing more than to please him. he would just open his eyes, trusting you his whole soul, but still wanting see what you're plotting.

your lips wrapped around his finger, your tongue twirling around his tips, n his tiredness due to the dance practice, made everything feels overwhelming to him he could only close his eyes again, his breath deepening. as you slowly go up, licking his biceps, he'd relax further more and whimper fuck keep going, accepting his sweet fate. as you'd take off his tank top, he'd bring one arm over his face, getting comfortable as he thinks you'd suck him off, but you aren't done w his pretty veins yet. his chest n abs were all soon scared with your bites and saliva, while his dick remain untouched making him buck his hips, in the air, asking for attention. stay patient, sunghoonie, you'd tell him as you're done kissing his v line. please, princess, hed unlikely start to beg.

after taking his sweatpants n boxer off, his dick already hard, you can't help but stare at the full on display veins, that made you like this in the first place. it's not everyday you're in charge, and as he is clearly too tired to do anything, you can have your fun and tease him by only licking up the veins, ignoring his tip. so as you kitty lick his veins, his whimpers would get loud with lots of please y/n or fuck baby, his hips bucking in your hand, precum coming out of his tip. he would lose it when you only kitty lick his tip, forcing your head down as he bucks his hips making you gag, yeaah just like that. he'd keep his hand on your hand, but just resting, liking your dominant side a little. he'd like it so much, he would cum fast, n unannounced, him too tired to form words only hmms n aaaah coming out of his mouth.

notes : i never write anyone else but jake, but i love my @pockettwinzz bby so >< this is literally my first smut ever i'm shitting my pants >___<

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Mooooo ! I love you so much bby 💕 my I request one with Alfie with the touch starved prompts “you never have to earn my affection-not now, not ever” and “I’m never more at peace than when I’m in yours arms”? Thank you lovely❤️❤️

My baby girl!!!!!!! Ugh thank you so much for sending this in. Did my heart ache writing this? Yes. Did my stomach hurt? Also yes. Am I sorry for it? NO. WE DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR EMO HOURS IN THIS HOUSE. Hehehe Anyway I love ya so much I hope you enjoyyyyyy.

100 Follower Celebration: Your Love is Enough

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

There were many perks that came with being Alfie's woman. While there was certainly a good deal of danger lurking around, there was an undeniable air of safety you had due to all the eyes watching. You got access to all the hot goings on around the city. You lived comfortably. And above all, you got to love Alfie Solomons fully and purely and unabashed. There was only one downside really... the talk.

It was no secret that you were significantly younger than Alfie. It was something you and Alfie never shied away from and didn't feel a need to. Regardless of any age difference, you and Alfie understood each other on a cosmic level, a way no one else could. You loved him with your whole heart and soul and Alfie would burn down the world if you asked him to. You were one. And anyone who truly knew you and Alfie knew that this was true love. That this was the type of love and devotion that epics were written about and empires crumbled over. But there were always going to be people who didn't know. Always going to be people who didn't understand.

You were perusing fabric patterns in the shop down the street one early afternoon, looking for the final pattern to add to a quilt you were making for Ollie's soon to be born first child. You delicately touched the cotton blends along an aisle, imagining how it would look along the squares you had already picked, taking mental note as to what was available.

"I just cannot imagine what he sees in her. I mean... she is a child isn't she?"

Your ears perked up to the tone. It was Mrs. Vorsed from down the corner, the one you waved to every morning without even a smile in return. Another voice responded, "You know how men are. They just want a little toy to play house with until they find a wife."

Who on earth could they be talking about?

"Mr. Solomons needs a real woman in his home. My Portia knows what it means to be a lady of the house, and knows her place. I mean that girl he is shacked up with... I can hear her shouts and laughter from down the street! What does she know about keeping a home, much less keeping a man?"

A snicker erupts, "Well I'm sure she won't last long. He'll tire of her eventually when he realizes what he truly needs. Then Portia can swoop right in!"

The cackles fade away with the sharp chops of heavy footed steps. Despite your efforts, the knot in your throat never went down. You lungs refused to take in breath as the words spun in your mind. How could they say those things so confidently? They didn't even know you. They never even stepped foot into the house, how could they know how you keep it? Alfie never said more than a good morning to Mrs. Vorsed. How could they know anything about you or Alfie? Yet their words kept spinning and spooling around in your mind. What if... what if they were right?? What if people saw something that you couldn't see? What if you had deluded yourself into thinking that Alfie was truly happy and in love with you? What if he was unhappy but didn't want to tell you out of duty. It all became too much in your chest, and you left the store without your fabric, but the weight of the world on your chest.

That evening Alfie could not wait to get home to you. Every evening Alfie nearly buzzed at the prospect of coming home to see your face again, and wrap himself around you, getting as close as possible. You made his day better. You made his life brighter and joyful and meaningful. It made all the business and badness worth it. Stepping through the threshold with a press to the mezuzah, Alfie calls out, "Sweet girl! I'm home! You in the kitchen darling?"

He hears you call back and smiles wide, stomach growling hungry for supper and you. Taking off his coat and hat he ambles into the kitchen, watching you stir something magical in the massive soup pot. "My dove ,my angel, my joy, what are you doing? Making food for the Royal Navy are we?"

You turn to him, and he can clearly see that something is wrong. Your lips are quivering and poorly attempting to portray a smile, and your eyes are glassy and red rimmed. He feels a stab in his chest, "Now wait a minute treacle... what's got you crying?"

You wiped your cheek and turned away, "I'm not crying."

With a scoff he grabs your chin gently, turning you to face him, "I thought we didn't lie to each other my sweet. Especially since you're the worst liar since the Garden of Eden. Why are you crying? Come on now confess."

You shrugged as Alfie's hands moved up and down your arms, "It's nothing. Stupid really I shouldn't be crying."

"Nah nah. It ain't stupid if it's got my sweet girl crying like that. Out with it."

The tears kept falling, though you tried to keep an even tone, "I just... I heard some women talking. Mrs. Vorsed and another lady."

Alfie rolled his eyes, "Always a bad sign. C'mon what else."

You sniffled, "And... well... they said that... I wasn't good enough for you. That I didn't know how to be a good woman to you. And that you would be better off with someone else. That you would soon grow tired of me. That I'm not deserving of you, and Portia Vorsed would be a better match for you."

The tears started coming harder, and you couldn't help the shaking of your body. Alfie's stomach dropped, and rage replaced it. Alfie shook your shoulders a bit in his passion, "What the fuck is wrong with them? Treacle, Mrs. Vorsed is the worst gossip in Camden, and doesn't know anything about anything. She hasn't got anything better to do but talk absolute shit. Portia, right? She is the silliest woman in town, she can't even do basic arithmetic because she's too busy being an idiot. I mean fuck me treacle I can barely say good morning to Mrs. Vorsed without getting proper fucking agitated!"

Alfie kissed your forehead and brought you to his chest, "YOU are the one for me. I don't give a shit what Mrs. Vorsed or what any other decrepit woman or idiot man thinks. You are my life. You are my stars and my moon and my sun alright? You don't have to be 'good enough' for me. Fuck you just are. You never have to earn my love. You've always had it. Even before I knew you my old and brittle heart was yours. You got that?"

You nodded, the tears pooling in his shirt. Alfie pulled you away from him to look into your eyes. "And treacle I don't even think Mrs. Vorsed can see more than a meter in front of her so she probably has no clue who she is talking about."

You laughed despite the tears and Alfie grinned. All he wanted to do every day was to make you smile. He was convinced that was what he was put on this earth to do. You put your hand to his face, feeling him lean into the warmth of your palm. "I just want to love you and care for you like you do me. I just worry that I don't do enough sometimes."

He grabbed your hand, kissing your fingertips, "Ah my sweet. I'm never more at peace than when I'm in your arms. I'm never more at home than when you're next to me. The whole business could go to shit and I'd still be the richest man in the world because I have the greatest treasure in you. And I mean that my love. You believe your old man right?"

You nod. The lump in your throat finally dissapated and the weight melted away. There was truly no love like Alfie's and yours. People could talk all they want. People could make any assumptions they wanted. That didn't change what was true. And what was true was that you and Alfie belonged to each other and would for all of eternity.

[daenysx]

hi bby, i just saw your modern aemond old money moodboard and i wanted to make a request for a blurb or drabble about it, thankss :))

i hope i've done well, thank you for requesting <3333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

it's a busy day. the busiest in the entire week, that's for sure. aemond signs another paper, huffing quietly. one more. one more hour and he will leave the office.

the screen of his phone lights up with your answer to his text. he asked if you feel like going out for dinner tonight and you sent him many virtual kisses, agreeing to his offer. his day will certainly last better when he gets to see you, sitting at a fancy table in your favorite restaurant, sipping champagne as you tell him all about your day.

when he finishes all of his stuff, he takes his suit jacket and his phone. his assistant nods him goodbye, he catches the elevator. texting you he's on his way, he settles down in the car. finally.

"hey, handsome." you greet him after sitting on the passenger seat when he pulls the car in front of the house. leaning in for a kiss, he's surrounded with your perfume, it's like taking a deep breath in fresh air. you clean up the lipstick stain you left on his lips with your fingers, he closes his eye to your touch.

"you know we could stay at home." you say, gently. "you must be tired."

"no, no, i'm fine." he quickly shakes his head. "you look perfect."

"thank you." you smile. "my husband has an excellent taste in dresses and jewellry."

he holds your hand during the short ride to the restaurant. you rub your thumb on the back of his hand, the tension on his shoulders leaving him every second of your touch.

the dimly lit atmosphere is so nice, white candles and pretty flowers are used to decorate your table. aemond orders your favorite with a bottle of champagne. he gets to see you so clearly now, across the table with your legs close to his under it.

"is everything okay at work?" you ask. he likes how attentive you are to his business, you know most of everything he does. it's good to have someone who supports him, who tells him what she thinks when he needs another pair of eyes.

"yes." he nods. "well, mostly. it's just busy, there are some new deals we gotta keep an eye on. some- opportunities, if i can manage to take them."

you squeeze his fingers on the table. "of course you'll take them."

the click of glasses, fine food, and your jokes about the conflict between mrs. tyrell and mrs. lannister at the latest organization you joined. you look so bright, his pretty girl, under the gold lights with your glowing smile.

now, he wants to return back to home, to kiss you until he stops breathing. taking every piece of lovely jewellry and your dress off, letting you cover his neck in lipstick stains, holding you on the satin sheets of your bed.

he kisses the back of your hand instead. he's more than attentive in the conversation.

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[smthabtgiyuu]

Hii how are ya?

I have a request that I thought of since you like Giyuu (from what I saw as your pfp)

During the hashira training (idk if you seen it)

But during that one scene with tanjiro trying to convince Giyuu to take part in the hashira training instead of opening the door to see Giyuu he sees Giyuu’s wife whom he had never seen before (it’s your choice if you want make reader pregnant or not)

And idk that’s all I really thought of, but you can go on from there

Take care of yourself- xoxo anon

OMG THIS IS SO CUTEEEE BBY!! thank you for requesting, and i am doing well! 🫶🏾🎀 (and yes i do take a small liking to giyuu 😏)

"mister giyuu!" you hear a youthful voice call from behind the door, piquing your interest. "it's kamado tanjirou!!" you look down at the half-asleep giyuu, who is nuzzled in his blanket adorably.

"giyuu, it seems you have a visitor, love." you brush his hair out of his face to gaze into his tired eyes.

"hmm..." he groans. "why is he here..?"

you lean down and peck his forehead. "don't worry about it. i'll go get the door, and you get some rest."

you stand and make your way to the shoji as the voice calls out again. "mister giyuu, i'm coming in!!" the door slides open and you lock eyes with a teenaged boy with burgundy hair and wine-coloured eyes.

"hello there, dear." you smile gently, and the boy seems taken aback. "are you tanjirou?"

"i'm sorry! i thought this was someone else's home." he grins sheepishly. "and yes, i am kamado tanjirou!" he bow

"you are looking for tomioka giyuu, correct?" you tilt your head and his eyes light up.

"yes! do you know him?!"

you giggle. "of course i do. i'm his wife."

"WHAT??!" the boy gawks.

"shh, dear. giyuu's sleeping. come inside, we can talk more over tea."

"wow, i never would've thought that mister giyuu had a wife!" tanjirou exclaims as you lean over the table to fill his cup full of steaming green tea.

"and why do you think that?" you raise an eyebrow and smile.

tanjirou laughs nervously. "i don't know, it's just that mister giyuu isn't very...social!" you laugh at his observation.

"you're right, he isn't. but surprisingly, he approached me first." you finish pouring your cup and set the teapot down, looking into tanjirou's eyes.

"really?! that's so cute of him!!" he grins.

"it is." your cheeks warm as you think about giyuu. "and as antisocial my love is...he's a good person. most can't tell, but he cares deeply for those close to him."

"you could say that." says from behind you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder.

"mister giyuu!" tanjirou's eyes twinkle as giyuu sits next to you.

"that was a short nap, love." you say to him before pecking his cheek. "tea?"

he waves you off politely, turning his attention to the boy in front of him. "so what brings you here, tanjirou?"

"oh, i almost forgot! i was going to ask if you were participating in the hashira training!!"

smthabtgiyuu© 2024. all rights reserved. :)

[lanaslovelyletters]

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 ³

𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬...

Anakin x Princess!Reader

Part 3

Previous chapter: Part 2

Overall series warning: 18+ content (smut), mature themes, swearing

Warnings: Light swearing (but who cares about this)

Last chapter recap: “The dark lord completely ignored your question, letting himself calm down before backing off and walking towards the door. Before he left, he got a final word in, “We’re to wed in a week. You’ll stay here until then.” What..?”

Summary: He continues to fend off your questions until you decide to be bold, to which he retaliates…

Word Count: 1.5K+

Author’s note: So many people asked to be on the taglist and ily guys ugh❤️ Also, sorry for going AWOL. Had a lot of stuff on my plate<3 Btw, for everyone on the taglist, don’t worry if you change your username. If I tagged you before, I can tag you again<3

Taglist: @blackthorngirl @formula1mount @bby-imasociopath @anakinsbaee @darthgloris @tatumrileyslover @itzmeme @lunalitva @marvellover98 @rorysbrainrot @moonlight-dreamer04 @kittyrumbl3r @itsoneofusworld

“You’re not being serious.” You scoffed, almost grinning, but when you saw the look on his face— everything melted into dread and disappointment. He stared at you with stern-looking eyes before shutting the door behind him. You heard sharp noises emerge from the door, meaning he locked it.

“You’ve got to be joking.” You laughed dryly before your body hit the bed. It was fluffy and felt like a warm hug. A stark contrast to the situation you found yourself stuck in. It was unbelievable, really. You were seriously to marry a Sith Lord. A slave to the dark side. Sure, he was handsome, but only as handsome as an apple could be.

Alas, you were far too tired to think about the whole ordeal. Your eyes grew heavy and it was becoming increasingly harder not to nod off… and finally, it grew all black.

(Break)

You woke up to the darkness of space creeping in through the single window you had in the room. It was impossible to tell how long you’d slept and how long you’d be staying there. Nobody would tell you a thing, and the Dark Lord would certainly never give you any answers.

A sudden knock pulled you out of your little trance, and the door burst open. In walked two troopers. They marched in, picking you up from the bed with a strong force. Didn’t Vader mention I’d stay here for a week? What’s going on? Ironically enough, you decided not to struggle or fight back. It’s not as if going back home was a choice anymore. You knew the dark side wasn’t forgiving anyway. 

“I’m not a rag doll. I know how to walk,” you complained, as you felt your body sliding across the cold, polished floor. When there was no response, you scoffed. It was loud enough for them to hear, but it wasn’t like they cared. They were simply following orders like mindless robots. It was as if it was their input.

After passing through several corridors and riding multiple elevators, you finally found yourself being dragged along to a dimly lit dining room. The layout was nothing fancy. A large table and chairs to go along with it. On one end sat Vader. He still donned his pitch-black suit, with his eyes trained on you. The way his hair fell around his face and the way his Adam’s Apple bopped as he gazed at you— it was to swoon over. You were made to sit opposite him. You didn’t dare move. You knew he could end me with the flick of his fingers.

“I hope you have an appetite.” Maker, his voice. It was rough yet smooth, velvety yet rigid… you were drowning in the octaves.

“Not much of an appetite when I’ve just been taken hostage.” No, you couldn’t give in. He was handsome to be sure, but he was still a ruthless sith.

“Hostage? You’re not a hostage, love.” Love. What was he playing at?

“I’m… not?” Your eyebrows were furrowed along with a scrunch of your nose.

“Hostage implies you’re here against your will and that I await someone to negotiate for you… I plan to keep you.” Though his words seemed daring and almost devious, his facial expression and tone told you a different story. He was a wall. Cold and without feeling. He seemed serious and determined.

“Why me? How did you know my father? Why did you want my family killed?” You furrowed your eyebrows. His gaze remained fixed on you, as he breathed heavily and got up from his seat. His boots hit the floor in a threatening manner. When he stopped in front of you, his gloved hand held your chin softly. So soft that you almost felt comfortable in his presence.

“Curiosity killed the cat, princess.” As you let your head be lifted ever so gently, you saw the stark contrast between his touch and his demeanour. His stare was blank and icy. It was as if no life existed behind his eyes. Eyes that were otherwise so… never mind. 

“Luckily, I’m not a cat,” Bold. Quite bold. Did you care? No. You had about as much control over him as he did you. He wasn’t going to kill you. No, if he wanted to, he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. He wanted to wed you. To have you as his bride. As sickening as the idea of that was, at least you wouldn’t die anytime soon. 

“You’re quite carefree for someone who’s lost her entire family and been taken against her will.” You could’ve sworn you saw a faint smirk swiftly make an appearance before being washed out by his brooding expression.

Oh, but there was something about his face. It did seem familiar. You couldn’t place your finger on it. There wasn’t anything that stood out in particular, but oh there was something about his face.

“I’m talking to you,” he spoke in a rough voice, before tightening his grip on your face, burying his fingers into your cheeks

“I’m not scared of you, Sith.” A grin. His lips contorted into a wide smile as he let out a scoff,

“You’ve got moxie. I’ll give you that.” Your eyes met his. Force, if I had ever seen a man—

“Moxie? I beg to differ. Why would I be scared of a lowly Sith Lord like you? You’re not even the emperor. Are you even strong enough to—”

“Princess,” he breathed as he snaked his hand tightly around your neck, the pads of his fingers snuggled themselves into your soft skin. The tension was palpable. It could be cut with a knife. The way you continued to defy him and resist him…he hated it. You were such a pretty little thing, but so stubborn too. Too set in your ways.

“We all have our… limits. You’re starting to test mine, your highness.” Something about him addressing you as ‘highness’ clashed so hard with the circumstances you found yourself in; it gave you whiplash.

“I want answers…” your whisper came out shaky. Not because you were starting to lose your footing. No, it was his grip on your throat. If anything, you almost found him humorous. He was creating a paradox and running around in circles; essentially embarrassing himself.

“I don’t want to give you any.” You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. His logic was deeply flawed and there was no wrapping your head around where it started or ended. It was a mess. A tangled mystery for you to sit and braid together to form a clear path.

“I don’t want to marry you, but here we are.”

“Let me rephrase. I can’t.” His gaze diverted to the floor. He was clearly struggling. Either to recall or decide whether or not to do so.

“I don’t understand.” Your throat was slowly released, as he walked towards the door to the room.

“Can you at least tell me why you chose me? Out of all the women in this galaxy… Why me?” Your feet had somehow carried you off to go after him. He walked with purpose through several corridors, taking swings and turns to try and throw you and the question off.

“Please?” Admittedly, you were getting impatient. Desperate. 

“Say, would you like to know how I went about ending your father’s life?” He suddenly turned around with a menacing look on his face. It wasn’t maniacal. It was as if you were staring into a blank wall.

“Excuse me?” What the hell is wrong with him? Your eyes darted to the floor before you lifted your head back up to meet his.

“I asked you if you wanted to know how I killed your father. How I—“

“No, I heard you the first time. How does that have anything to do with my question?” He smirked for a moment before his smile faltered,

“You’re completely unphased. Didn’t think the king was that much of a horrible father.” How could he address your father like that? With that knowledge? How did he know your father like that?

“Yeah, well… he was. So give me an answer to my question. Why me?” The two of you stopped in front of a large white door. It had a face recognition lock on it.

“Because… I know you.” His voice dropped an octave as he stared at your reaction. You weren’t shocked, just confused.

He scanned his face and the entrance to a dark room was revealed. You were just about to follow him before he turned around,

“Do you wish to retire with me for the night?” What? Your brow bunched up together and you lightly shook your head,

“No… of course not.”

“Then I suggest you stop following me.” A grin was apparent on his lips.

“Evening, princess.” The door closed behind him and you were left standing there; completely dumbfounded. However, this unlocked a window for you to walk around freely, trying to find a way to escape. There didn’t seem to be any stormtroopers around. Marrying a Sith was that of nightmare fuel. It didn’t matter how gorgeously his hair fell around his face and how his scar elevated his overall appearance. He was a Sith Lord.

You needed to find a way out. By all means necessary.

To be continued…

Please DM, comment, or ask to be added on the taglist<3

Here’s the masterlist<3

[nofingjustaninchident]

hi, I’m not great at requesting things but if this makes sense could you write a high school au where Jason is a football player. I think it would be cute cause he’s definitely tall enough and strong enough but then add in him being kind and wow he would make the BEST high school football player boyfriend. Thank you

⛧° Jason Grace x Nerdy! Reader hcs °⛧

content: jason grace x reader, college au!

warnings: cursing, allusions to sexual stuff (not much tho), stupidtly fluffy and corny.

a/n: bby if i tell you i dreamt about this, would you believe me? like, i swear to all the gods, i dreamt with this and woke up thinking about writing it… well, here ya go. oh, and i also made her a brazilian, i hope you don’t mind? if you do, just ignore it, please 🫡

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

Of course, he’s a great football player.

Like, i know no shit about football, i’m a soccer girly, but he’s the best quarterback in the city. like, he’s really really good.

And obviously everyone believes he’s such an asshole and a womanizer.

But in reality he’s so so nice

Sure, he sleeps with some girls and all, but not as much as his teammates.

He’s also the only jock that sticks with a girlfriend. Not for long, but still more than the other guys ig

So when he was having trouble with maths, he needed a tutor, cause he had to have a back up plan of he didn’t went for the pros

Such a nice boy, fr.

And he went talk with the teacher to ask who could teach him.

And that’s when he found you.

You weren’t exactly a super nerd. You just liked to study.

But you had a lot of friends, since being the only exchange student did bring this sort of popularity around the university.

And when he first came to you, you were kinda bitchy.

You know, you had a bit of hatred towards football players. No idea why, it was just there.

Even with that, you were too kind-hearted to don’t tutor him.

And when you got to know each other… you kinda started liking him.

On your first study session, the library was too full, so you went to the outside

Which was really working out, till Jason found a little bird that probably fell from his nest

The guy was so worried that he almost took the bird home

He would’ve done it if you didn’t stop him

But he found the nest and put the little bird back there

And you just stood there, like “what the fuck? isn’t he supposed to be a douche?”

It happens that he’s not.

And you became pretty good friends with the frequent study sessions and all.

Not to mention he was pretty offended when you told him you didn’t like football.

And you were very offended when he asked if the spoke Spanish in Brazil.

He knew it didn’t, he just did it to piss you off.

He really wanted you to go to one of his games, but you never said you were really going.

So, one day, when his team was having a match against Harvard University, he was more than surprised to see you at the stands, right in the front.

With his jersey. With his number and name on your back.

He honestly felt he was gonna cry right then and there.

He got so happy he made a touchdown. They won.

And you were there, cheering for him and pretending like you understand anything that was going on there.

When the game ended, he came rushing towards you.

“Congrats, Gra-“ Before you could even finish your sentence, he kissed you.

Oh, and it was heaven.

After this, you started dating and it was the best thing you ever experienced.

He was such a gentleman.

Doors? Don’t even touch that. Dates? He’s paying, duh. You’re tired? He’ll carry you, bridal style.

You get the point.

You started liking football because of him. And he started liking soccer because of you.

a/n: i don’t know what to feel about this lol. idk what you’ll think of the brazilian thing, but if you don’t like it, i’ll remake it, promise!

[theanimeroom]

DREAMING ABOUT…

SFW

💎 bf!baji who wakes you up with a rough “g’mornin princess” right before placing the softest kiss on your forehead

💎 bf!baji who initially tried to kiss you on the lips and only rolled his eyes when you complained about “morning breath”, whatever that is

💎 bf!baji who takes twice as long as you in the shower, yet is still somehow ready before you are.

💎 bf!baji who to your surprise, actually knows his way around a kitchen. the first time he ever made you breakfast your eyes followed him in amazement as he made the best omelette you’ve ever tasted

💎 bf!baji who definitely got into a fight trying to protect you. he couldn’t stand watching you shift in place uncomfortably because the dude in front of you couldn’t take a fucking hint, so he did what he had to do

💎 bf!baji who also apologized to you when you were finally alone, because he would never want to scare you :(

💎 bf!baji who despite his serious and gruff demeanor, is actually quite clumsy and just a little bit dumb 👌🏽

💎 bf!baji who will also ask you “hey babe, have you seen my glasses?” while staring at you through the prescribed lenses 👓

💎 bf!baji who nearly suffocates you at the front door while leaving for work because although he does love his animals at the store, he’d much rather stay home and hover behind you all day 🫶🏽

💎 bf!baji who sends you cute texts at work when there’s no customers because he’s bored :(

come visit me i miss you >:(

bby i’m in class

…and?

💎 bf!baji who adores you in his clothes. when you first started dating, he found it a bit annoying that his favorite shirts and hoodies would go missing, but when he finally saw you wearing one of his old band t-shirts while cleaning? he was putty in your hands

💎 bf!baji who comes home to find you in a pair of shorts and one of his shirts on the couch, and immediately crushed you with his body while smothering you with kisses

💎 bf!baji who pouts when you get out of bed at anytime because he’s tired but can’t seem to go to sleep unless his nose is buried in your hair and his arms have you trapped against him 🥺

💎 bf!baji who will do absolutely anything for you. it doesn’t matter the request, just tell him what to do and he’s got it. order out for dinner tonight? sure thing. you want to watch movies and lay on his chest? he’s at your beck and call. want him to jump off a cliff? just let him know how high bby 😌

NSFW BELOW THE CUT…

NSFW

💎 bf!baji who thinks you’re the prettiest when his cock is shoved down your throat, eyes wide and glassy as you struggle to take all of him. you gag reflexively when your nose bumps his pubic bone, and the sight only makes his jaw clench and dick throb

💎 bf!baji who actually laughs when you beg for him to slow down his thrusts, your words only inspiring him to move faster because why would he stop when you make such pretty noises?

💎 bf!baji who groans low and deep in your ear, sending shivers straight down your spine and between your legs. he’ll never tell you that he does it on purpose, just to feel the way your thighs tighten around him and pull him in closer

💎 bf!baji who definitely didn’t get a mirror installed above his bed so he could get a good view of you from all angles :)

💎 bf!baji who eats you out like a mad man. if your hands weren’t tied to the headboard then they were laced in his hair, yanking on bundle after bundle as you tried to simultaneously push him away and bring him closer

💎 bf!baji who openly admits to loving getting his hair pulled, and sends a shockwave of vibrations against your clit every time you tug a little harder than necessary

💎 bf!baji who partakes in the nastiest make out sessions. wherever you are, if he manages to get his lips on yours, expect his tongue to be exploring your mouth while you attempt to keep his straying hands at bay

💎 bf!baji who will spit in your mouth before pressing his tongue against yours again. you haven’t gotten the chance to breath in a while and once you finally manage to pull away, there’s a trail of saliva connecting your lips. like i said, n a s t y.

💎 bf!baji who is very much banned from PDA because you’re tired of scarring the old ladies that are shopping in the clothing aisle at walmart

💎 bf!baji who can say the most vile shit in bed. you knew the man wasn’t one for niceties, but you couldn’t stop your cunt from clenching around him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the filth he spewed your way

“aww, what’s wrong baby? i thought you said you could take it?” “uh uh, don’t run from me. you asked for this, now take my cock like a good little cocksleeve.” “oh? did you like that baby? your cunt just squeezed around me so tight- fuck.”

💎 bf!baji who isn’t super vocal in bed, unless he’s close to coming. the most you could usually get out of him was a slightly strained grunt, which he did on purpose, but when you caught him on the right day, he would slur profanities into your ear, much to your happiness

“please baby, fuck.” “keep fucking me like that,” “you feel so fucking good wrapped around me…” “shit, just like that princess” “you’re gonna make me come.”

💎 bf!baji who wasn’t too keen on using toys in the bedroom, until he watched your legs shake for the umpteenth time as he held your vibrator against your overly sensitive clit. he wasn’t sure what exactly enthralled him the way it did, but he was willing to continue experimenting until he figured it out

💎 bf!baji who definitely fucked you in the back of his store while chifuyuu helped out a customer. the boy knew exactly what was happening the moment you two snuck into the storage area, his face turning beet red as he rung up a 10lb bag of dog food

💎bf!baji who is a bit of an exhibitionist, but let someone try and take a peek at you without his permission and watch how fast you lose the ability to use your eyes

💎 bf!baji who will choke you until you’re blue during one round, then hold your hand while moaning about how good you feel the next. there’s never a dull moment with this one

💎 bf!baji who makes you worried that the next time you look in the mirror after having sex, there will be a bald spot waiting to surprise you with how rough he pulls on the locks when giving you back shots

💎bf!baji who’s favorite position is doggy. that’s it. that’s the tweet.

💎 bf!baji who doesn’t stop until you’re sweaty, weak and begging for a few minutes to rest. luckily enough for you, those few minutes were all baji needed to slip into a deep slumber until the next morning when he’ll just wake up and start again :)