#permanent hair removal for men

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The best product for permanent hair removal / Ulike

The Benefits of Ulike Laser Hair Removal System for Men and Women Introduction Introducing Ulike Laser Hair Removal System The Ulike Laser Hair Removal System is revolutionizing the way we think about at-home hair removal. Designed to be both effective and gentle, this innovative device uses IPL (Intense Pulsed Light) technology to help users achieve smooth, hair-free skin without the pain and…

[novalunelaser]

Top 5 Benefits of Choosing Laser Hair Removal for Your Face and Body in Denver

If you’re considering laser hair removal options in Denver, laser hair removal stands out as a top choice for both face and body. Here are the top five benefits of opting for this advanced method:

Long-Term Cost Efficiency One of the most compelling reasons to choose laser hair removal is its long-term cost efficiency. While the initial laser hair removal cost might seem high, it’s a significant investment in permanent hair reduction. When you consider the ongoing expense of waxing or shaving, the laser hair removal cost becomes more economical over time. For those asking, "How much does laser hair removal cost?" it's crucial to weigh these long-term savings against the upfront expense.

Effective and Permanent Results Many people wonder, "Is laser hair removal permanent?" The answer is yes, it offers a long-term solution to unwanted hair. Laser hair removal works by targeting hair follicles with concentrated light, significantly reducing hair growth. For those interested in permanent hair removal near me, this method provides results that can be permanent with the right number of treatments.

Precision and Speed Laser hair removal is known for its precision. It targets individual hair follicles while leaving the surrounding skin unharmed. Additionally, the procedure is swift, covering larger areas like the back or legs much faster than traditional methods. In Denver, where busy lifestyles are common, this efficiency is a major advantage.

Minimal Discomfort Compared to waxing or other hair removal methods, laser hair removal generally involves less discomfort. Modern technology and advanced cooling systems make the process more comfortable, minimizing the pain associated with hair removal.

Customizable Treatments for All Whether you’re looking for laser hair removal for men or laser hair removal for women, this service can be tailored to meet specific needs. Denver Laser Solutions offers options for both men and women, ensuring a personalized approach. From cheek laser hair removal to full-body treatments, the technology adapts to different hair types and skin tones.

If you’re searching for the best laser hair removal in Denver, consider Novalune Laser. Their expertise and commitment to providing top-notch care make them a leading choice for all your laser hair removal needs in Denver. For a consultation and to discover more about how they can assist you, visit their clinic today!

[labelleclinic]

Enhance Your Appearance with La Belle Clinic's Top Services

At La Belle Clinic, we understand the importance of looking and feeling your best. Our comprehensive range of services is designed to cater to your unique beauty and skincare needs. Whether you’re interested in permanent eyelash extensions, Fotona laser hair removal, or specialized skin treatments for men, we have you covered with the latest techniques and highest quality products.

Permanent Eyelash Extensions: Enhance Your Natural Beauty

Imagine waking up each morning with long, voluminous lashes that frame your eyes perfectly. Our permanent eyelash extensions are meticulously applied by skilled technicians to achieve a natural look that enhances your features. Whether you prefer a dramatic effect or a subtle enhancement, our extensions are customizable to suit your style and preferences. Say goodbye to mascara and hello to effortlessly beautiful lashes!

Fotona Laser Hair Removal: Smooth, Hair-Free Skin

Tired of shaving, waxing, or plucking unwanted hair? Our Fotona laser hair removal treatments offer a safe, effective, and long-lasting solution. Using advanced laser technology, we target hair follicles to inhibit future growth, leaving your skin silky smooth. This treatment is suitable for all skin types and can be applied to various areas of the body, providing you with lasting results and freedom from the hassle of traditional hair removal methods.

Specialized Skin Treatments for Men: Tailored Skincare Solutions

At La Belle Clinic, we recognize that skincare is not one-size-fits-all. Our specialized skin treatments for men are designed to address specific concerns such as acne, aging, and uneven skin tone. From deep cleansing facials to rejuvenating treatments, our experienced estheticians will create a personalized regimen to help you achieve clear, healthy-looking skin. We use premium products and techniques tailored to the unique needs of men’s skin, ensuring optimal results with each visit.

Why Choose La Belle Clinic?

Choosing La Belle Clinic means choosing excellence in beauty and skincare. Here’s why our clients trust us:

Expertise: Our team of skilled professionals is dedicated to delivering exceptional results.

Quality: We use only the highest quality products and advanced techniques.

Personalized Care: Each treatment is customized to meet your individual needs and goals.

Comfort: Relax in our modern, welcoming clinic environment designed with your comfort in mind.

Whether you’re interested in enhancing your lashes, achieving smooth skin with laser hair removal, or improving your complexion with specialized skincare treatments, La Belle Clinic is here to help you look and feel your best. Contact us today to schedule a consultation and take the first step toward a more confident you!

[simplyradiantaesthetics]

Streamlined Confidence: Men's Laser Hair Removal in Winnipeg

In the bustling city of Winnipeg, men are increasingly turning to laser hair removal as a solution to unwanted hair growth. Beyond mere aesthetics, the decision to undergo laser hair removal reflects a desire for confidence, convenience, and a streamlined grooming routine. With advanced technology and skilled practitioners, men's laser hair removal in Winnipeg offers a transformative experience that goes beyond the surface, empowering individuals to embrace their best selves with ease and assurance.

Laser hair removal for men in Winnipeg is a meticulously curated process that begins with a comprehensive consultation. During this initial session, experienced technicians assess the client's unique skin type, hair texture, and treatment goals. This personalized approach ensures that each client receives a tailored treatment plan designed to deliver optimal results while minimizing discomfort and downtime.

One of the primary benefits of laser hair removal is its precision and efficiency. Unlike traditional methods such as shaving or waxing, which offer temporary relief and often result in irritation and ingrown hairs, laser hair removal targets hair follicles at the root, inhibiting future growth. This means fewer grooming sessions and smoother, long-lasting results for men seeking a low-maintenance approach to hair removal.

Moreover, laser hair removal technology has evolved significantly, making treatments safer, more comfortable, and suitable for a variety of skin tones and hair types. In Winnipeg, reputable clinics invest in state-of-the-art laser systems that deliver optimal results with minimal risk of side effects. This commitment to safety and efficacy ensures that men can undergo laser hair removal with confidence, knowing that they are in capable hands.

Beyond the physical benefits, men's laser hair removal in Winnipeg offers a psychological boost, enhancing self-esteem and body confidence. For many men, unwanted hair can be a source of insecurity, affecting their comfort in social and professional settings. Laser hair removal provides a solution that not only addresses physical concerns but also cultivates a sense of empowerment and pride in one's appearance.

In conclusion, men's laser hair removal in Winnipeg represents a fusion of science, artistry, and self-care. It embodies a shift towards modern masculinity, where grooming practices are embraced as a means of self-expression and self-assurance. With its precision, efficiency, and transformative potential, laser hair removal offers men in Winnipeg the opportunity to step confidently into their lives, unencumbered by the limitations of unwanted hair.

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Get Hassle-Free Laser Hair Removal Solution by Uncover Clinics

Are you tired of constantly struggling with hair removal? UNCOVER Clinics provides Permanent Laser Hair Removal for Men and Women. Experience hassle-free, long-lasting smoothness with our inexpensive and painless treatments. Rediscover your confidence and say goodbye to the daily grooming hassles. Schedule your session today.

https://uncover.co.in/laser-hair-removal/

[theinspiration12]

Indian Women's Laser Hair Removal: A Smooth Evolution

Women in India have been using hair removal with lasers as an ongoing remedy for unsightly body hair for a very long time. To many women in Pune and around the nation, this ground-breaking technique has changed the game. Although women's laser hair removal in India is a growing industry, women in Pune need to know what they can anticipate from the operation as well as its advantages.

India's Growth in Laser Hair Removal: A non-invasive cosmetic technique called laser hair removal, or LHR, is used to remove or minimize unsightly body hair. To stop new hair development in the treated region, it targets and destroys hair follicles with concentrated laser light. In India, this process has become quite popular because of several important factors:

Outcomes that last: Hair removal with lasers provides a long-lasting solution, in contrast to conventional techniques like waxing or shaving. Following a few sessions, a lot of women discover that their hair has either completely stopped developing or drastically diminished.

Minor discomfort: Laser hair removal is often a painless operation, with many patients reporting just minimal discomfort. This is a very different ache from what epilation or waxing causes.

Time-saving: Laser hair removal ladies in Pune and other Indian cities value the time they save. The effects are more long-lasting, and there is no need for repeated salon appointments for threading or waxing.

Description of the Process: As a simple treatment, laser hair removal is rather simple. A dermatologist or skilled specialist will focus on the intended area's hair follicles using laser equipment. The pigment melanin in the hair strands absorbs the regulated light pulses that the laser delivers. The follicles are destroyed by this hot energy, which stops new hair development. To guarantee that hair in all development phases is successfully addressed, treatment sessions are often spaced several weeks apart. The number of visits needed might differ from individual to individual based on things including skin tone, hair colour, and the size of the desired region.

Advantages of Hair Removal with Laser

Accuracy: Hair removal using lasers can remove undesirable hair with accuracy while protecting the surrounding skin.

Decreased skin discomfort: Laser hair removal results in fewer ingrowing hairs and reduced skin irritation in comparison to more conventional techniques like shaving and waxing.

Time and money savings: Compared to ongoing waxing or threading appointments, laser hair removal turns out to be more affordable over time.

The ease of use:  Women can benefit from long-lasting hair reduction once the first round of treatments is over, which will save them time for everyday activities.

The way Indian women in Pune and other cities handle their undesirable body hair has been completely transformed by laser hair removal. Long-lasting outcomes, little unease, and major effort and time savings over standard removal of hair treatments are all provided by this procedure. The increasing number of cosmetic clinics and salons in Pune that provide laser hair removal procedures has made this game-changing technology easily accessible to women. When it comes to the best weight loss for women & men, it is crucial to prioritize sustainable practices that promote overall health and well-being. For the greatest outcomes and safety, it is imperative to pick a respectable clinic or salon and make sure the treatment is carried out by licensed experts.

[spadeskincare15]

OJAI GUIDE: 17 BEST THINGS TO DO IN OJAI IN 2023 by Spade Skin Care

When it comes to experiencing the beauty of Southern California, Ojai stands out as a hidden gem. Nestled in the Ojai Valley, this charming town is a haven for nature lovers, artists, and anyone seeking a tranquil escape. In this guide brought to you by Spade Skin Care, we'll explore the 17 best things to do in Ojai in 2023, ensuring that your visit to this picturesque destination is nothing short of magical.

Where is Ojai, California located?

Ojai, California, is tucked away in Ventura County, just northwest of Los Angeles. It's approximately a 90-minute drive from the bustling streets of LA, making it an accessible yet wonderfully secluded destination. Ojai's unique location in a valley surrounded by the Topatopa Mountains provides it with a distinctive microclimate and breathtaking natural beauty, setting the stage for a wide range of outdoor and cultural experiences that await you in this enchanting town.

1. Visit a Spa

When you're in Ojai, it's all about indulging in relaxation and rejuvenation, and what better way to start your journey than with a visit to one of the town's renowned spas? Ojai is synonymous with serenity, and its spa offerings are no exception. From luxurious treatments to breathtaking views, these spas are designed to melt away your stress and leave you feeling refreshed. Imagine unwinding with a soothing massage surrounded by the natural beauty of Ojai's landscapes or experiencing holistic skincare treatments that will leave your skin glowing. A visit to an Ojai spa is more than just a pampering session; it's a chance to reconnect with yourself and the peaceful essence of this charming town. So, whether you're in need of some self-care or simply want to bask in the tranquility of Ojai, a spa day should be at the top of your list.

2. Enjoy the Art

Ojai isn't just a destination for nature lovers; it's also a haven for art enthusiasts. As you explore this charming town, you'll discover a vibrant arts scene that beautifully complements its natural beauty. Start your artistic journey at the Ojai Valley Museum, where you can delve into the region's rich history and cultural heritage through captivating exhibits.

For a taste of local creativity, visit the Ojai Art Center, a hub for visual and performing arts. Stroll through art galleries showcasing works from talented local artists or catch a live performance that encapsulates the essence of Ojai's artistic spirit.

The Ojai Valley is known to inspire creativity, making it the perfect place to immerse yourself in art and culture while surrounded by breathtaking landscapes.

3. Browse outdoor books at Bart’s Books

Nestled in the serene town of Ojai, Bart's Books offers a unique and literary experience for bibliophiles and outdoor enthusiasts alike. This open-air bookstore, with its charming book-filled shelves spilling out onto the sidewalk, is a testament to the town's relaxed and artsy vibe. As you browse the shelves, you'll discover an eclectic collection of books, from classic novels to volumes on hiking and outdoor adventures. Grab a book that piques your interest and find a cozy spot to immerse yourself in captivating narratives or gather valuable insights into Ojai's beautiful landscapes. A visit to Bart's Books is not just about reading; it's an Ojai tradition and an invitation to explore the world through literature in the heart of this enchanting town.

4. Go Glamping

Ojai's natural beauty beckons outdoor enthusiasts, and there's no better way to immerse yourself in it than by going glamping. Leave behind the traditional tents and sleeping bags, and instead, indulge in the luxuries of a glamping experience. Nestled in the heart of Ojai's picturesque landscapes, you'll find unique glamping accommodations that offer both comfort and nature's embrace.

Imagine waking up to the gentle rustling of leaves and the scent of fresh pine in the air. Glamping in Ojai provides the perfect blend of luxury and adventure. From cozy safari tents to charming yurts and Airstream trailers, there's an option to suit every traveler's style. Whether you're seeking a romantic getaway or a family adventure, Ojai's glamping sites offer a serene retreat where you can reconnect with nature without sacrificing modern comforts. Get ready to unwind, stargaze, and create lasting memories in this natural haven.

5. Go Wine Tasting

Ojai, California, isn't just renowned for its natural beauty; it's also a hidden gem for wine enthusiasts. When you visit this picturesque town, embarking on a wine tasting adventure is a must. Ojai is home to several boutique wineries and vineyards, each offering a unique and delightful tasting experience. Sip on exquisite local wines while surrounded by breathtaking vineyard landscapes. Many wineries also provide guided tours, allowing you to immerse yourself in the winemaking process and gain a deeper appreciation for the art of viticulture. Whether you're a seasoned oenophile or just looking for a relaxing day out, Ojai's wine scene is sure to captivate your senses and leave you with cherished memories.

6. Try fresh kombucha

When you find yourself in the enchanting town of Ojai, California, experiencing its vibrant culture goes beyond sightseeing; it's about tasting the local flavors. One delightful treat you mustn't miss is trying fresh kombucha. Ojai is home to some exceptional local kombucha breweries and taprooms that offer a refreshing and health-conscious beverage experience. Kombucha, a fermented tea, comes in a variety of flavors, often infused with local fruits and herbs, making each sip a unique adventure for your taste buds. Whether you're a kombucha aficionado or a newbie, the vibrant kombucha scene in Ojai is sure to leave you with a refreshing, effervescent memory of your visit to this charming town.

7. Meditate at Meditation Mount

Nestled amidst the tranquil beauty of Ojai, Meditation Mount stands as a sanctuary for peace-seekers and nature enthusiasts alike. A visit to this serene retreat is a must on your Ojai itinerary. As you ascend the hillside, the cares of the world seem to fade away, replaced by a sense of profound calm. Find your spot among the lush gardens and take in breathtaking panoramic views of the Ojai Valley and Topa Topa Mountains. Meditation Mount offers the perfect environment for reflection and meditation. It's a place where you can reconnect with your inner self while surrounded by the natural wonders of Ojai.

8. Hike

One of the most enchanting ways to experience Ojai's natural beauty is by embarking on a hike. Ojai boasts a plethora of scenic trails that cater to all levels of hikers. Whether you're an experienced trekker or simply looking for a leisurely stroll in nature, Ojai has something for you. Consider starting your day with a hike in the breathtaking Los Padres National Forest, where you'll encounter serene creeks, towering oak trees, and captivating vistas. If you're seeking a more challenging adventure, the Topa Topa Bluffs Trail offers stunning panoramic views of the Ojai Valley. From the peaceful to the exhilarating, Ojai's hiking trails promise an unforgettable experience in the heart of nature.

9. Live Music

Ojai isn't just a feast for the eyes; it's a symphony for the ears as well. Nestled within this artistic haven, you'll discover a vibrant live music scene that resonates with both locals and visitors alike. From intimate acoustic performances at cozy cafes to outdoor concerts under the stars, Ojai offers a diverse range of musical experiences. The Libbey Bowl, an iconic outdoor amphitheater, hosts a variety of concerts and events, making it a must-visit for music enthusiasts. Whether you're into jazz, folk, or classical melodies, Ojai's live music venues will leave you tapping your toes and savoring the sounds of this enchanting town.

10. Ride a Bike

Ojai's serene landscapes and picturesque trails make it a cycling paradise. Rent a bike and explore the town at your own pace. The Ojai Valley Trail, in particular, offers a scenic route through the valley's meadows and along peaceful creek beds. As you pedal, you'll be surrounded by the natural beauty that defines Ojai, creating a truly immersive experience. Whether you're an avid cyclist or a leisurely rider, exploring Ojai on two wheels is a delightful way to connect with the town's relaxed and scenic ambiance.

11. Sunset Horseback Riding

As the sun begins its descent over the Ojai Valley, there's no better way to soak in the tranquil beauty of this place than by embarking on a sunset horseback ride. Ojai boasts a variety of ranches and equestrian centers that offer this enchanting experience. Saddle up and meander through the scenic trails as the warm, golden hues of the evening sun cast a mesmerizing glow over the landscape. The gentle clip-clop of hooves and the scent of sagebrush in the air create an unforgettable sensory experience. Whether you're an experienced rider or a novice, this is a unique opportunity to connect with nature and savor the breathtaking vistas that Ojai has to offer.

12. The Pink Moment

When the sun starts its descent over the Topatopa Bluffs, Ojai transforms into a magical realm during what locals affectionately call "The Pink Moment." As the name suggests, this is a time when the mountains and the sky are bathed in a breathtaking shade of pink and lavender hues. The Pink Moment occurs during sunset and is a cherished daily ritual for both visitors and residents. It's an enchanting spectacle best experienced from Meditation Mount or the Ojai Valley Inn's back terrace. Bring a blanket, your loved ones, and your camera to capture the awe-inspiring beauty of this natural phenomenon – a moment of serenity and beauty that will stay with you long after you've left Ojai.

13. Farm-to-Table Cuisine

Nestled in the picturesque Ojai Valley, the farm-to-table culinary scene is a highlight not to be missed. Ojai's fertile land and commitment to sustainability have given rise to a vibrant food culture. Restaurants here take pride in sourcing their ingredients locally, often from the Ojai Certified Farmers' Market, where you can find an array of fresh, organic produce.

Dine under the stars on charming patios, savoring dishes crafted with a deep respect for nature's bounty. From citrus-infused delights to lavender-infused cuisine, Ojai's restaurants offer a tantalizing journey for your taste buds. Don't forget to pair your meal with a glass of local wine or artisanal kombucha, making each dining experience a true celebration of Ojai's flavors and commitment to mindful, sustainable eating.

14. Coffee Shops

When you're in the charming town of Ojai, savoring a cup of coffee is an experience in itself. Ojai's coffee shops are more than just places to grab your daily caffeine fix; they are vibrant hubs of local culture and community. Start your day at "Ojai Roasting Company," where artisanal coffee blends meet a cozy, welcoming atmosphere. If you're a fan of unique flavors, "Full of Beans" offers a delightful selection of flavored coffees and a tranquil garden setting. And don't forget to visit "Caravan Outpost," a trendy spot where you can sip your coffee in a vintage Airstream trailer. These coffee shops not only serve exceptional brews but also provide a glimpse into the laid-back and creative spirit of Ojai.

15. Experience the Supernatural

Venture into the mystical side of Ojai with a visit to the renowned Ojai Valley Inn & Spa. Known not only for its luxurious amenities but also for its spiritual energy, this place offers a unique experience. Book a session with a talented local spiritual guide who can introduce you to Ojai's mystical charm. From energy vortexes to meditation spots, you'll uncover the profound spiritual energy that Ojai is celebrated for. It's a chance to reconnect with yourself and the universe in a way that's deeply transformative. Embrace the supernatural and let Ojai's mystical aura leave an indelible mark on your soul.

16. Yoga

When it comes to finding your inner peace and rejuvenating your body and mind, Ojai is a haven for yoga enthusiasts. Nestled among the serene landscapes of this charming town, you'll discover a plethora of yoga studios and retreats that offer classes for practitioners of all levels. Whether you're a seasoned yogi or a beginner, the tranquil energy of Ojai enhances your practice. Many studios provide outdoor sessions, allowing you to harmonize with nature as you flow through asanas. The spiritual essence of Ojai makes it the perfect place to deepen your yoga journey and connect with your inner self amidst breathtaking scenery.

17. Enjoy Relaxing Ojai Lavender

Nestled in the serene Ojai Valley, surrounded by the Topatopa Mountains, is a lavender lover's paradise. Ojai Lavender Farms offers a sensory delight that will leave you refreshed and rejuvenated. In 2023, don't miss the chance to wander through fragrant lavender fields, where the vibrant purple blooms paint a mesmerizing picture against the California sky.

While you're here, you can learn about the art of lavender cultivation and its myriad of uses in skincare and aromatherapy. The farm often hosts events and workshops, providing a hands-on experience in crafting lavender-infused products. Whether you're seeking relaxation or inspiration, a visit to Ojai Lavender Farms is an aromatic journey not to be missed during your Ojai adventure.

Conclusion

As our Ojai adventure comes to a close, we hope you've discovered the magic that this charming town holds. From the lush landscapes of the Los Padres National Forest to the vibrant art scene and rejuvenating wellness experiences, Ojai is a haven for those in search of tranquility and inspiration. Whether you're strolling through the Ojai Valley Museum, embarking on a scenic hike, or simply savoring a moment of calm beneath the iconic Ojai Pixie arch, this town offers a tapestry of experiences that linger in your heart and memory. As you plan your visit to Ojai in 2023, let the spirit of this remarkable place guide you towards moments of beauty, serenity, and renewal. Spade Skin Care invites you to immerse yourself in the wonder of Ojai, where every day is an opportunity to discover something extraordinary.

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Achieve Smooth, Hair-Free Skin with Permanent Laser Hair Removal

Are you tired of the constant struggle with unwanted body hair? Shaving, waxing, and plucking can be time-consuming, painful, and often result in temporary solutions for spa laser hair removal in texas, the colony. Fortunately, advancements in cosmetic technology have brought us the revolutionary solution of permanent laser hair removal. In this Specialty Medspa, we will explore the benefits of full body laser hair removal and introduce you to a reputable laser hair removal center that can help you achieve the smooth, hair-free skin you desire.

Understanding Permanent Laser Hair Removal

Permanent laser hair removal in the colony, plano is a safe and effective method for removing unwanted hair from various parts of the body. Unlike traditional hair removal techniques, such as shaving or waxing, which only provide temporary results, laser hair removal offers a long-lasting solution. It works by targeting the hair follicles with concentrated laser beams, effectively damaging them to inhibit future hair growth. This treatment is suitable for both men and women and can be used on various areas, including the face, legs, arms, bikini line, and more.

Benefits of Full Body Laser Hair Removal

Time-Saving: Imagine the hours you can save by eliminating the need for daily shaving or monthly waxing appointments. Full body laser hair removal allows you to enjoy long-lasting hair reduction, freeing up your time for more important activities.

Permanent Results: Over time, as you undergo a series of laser hair removal sessions, you will notice a significant reduction in hair growth. Many people experience permanent hair loss after completing their treatments, which means no more worrying about unsightly stubble.

Smooth, Silky Skin: Laser hair removal not only removes hair but also leaves your skin feeling smooth and rejuvenated. Say goodbye to razor burns, ingrown hairs, and the discomfort associated with traditional hair removal methods.

Precision: Laser technology is highly precise, allowing for the selective targeting of hair follicles without affecting the surrounding skin. This minimizes the risk of skin irritation or damage.

Choosing the Right Laser Hair Removal Center

To experience the benefits of permanent laser hair removal, it's essential to select a reputable and qualified laser hair removal center  in kings ridge.

Advanced Equipment: Look for a center that uses state-of-the-art laser technology to deliver the best results with minimal discomfort.

Customized Treatment Plans: Every individual is unique, and your laser hair removal plan should be tailored to your specific needs and skin type.

Safety Measures: Verify that the center follows strict safety protocols to protect your skin during and after the procedure

permanent laser hair removal is a game-changer in the world of hair removal. Say goodbye to the hassle of temporary solutions and hello to smooth, hair-free skin. To embark on your journey toward permanent hair reduction, consult a trusted laser hair removal center in plano, texas. With their expertise and advanced technology, you can achieve the results you've always wanted and enjoy the confidence that comes with a hair-free body. 

[lamidasaesthetic]

Full Body Laser Hair Removal Cost

Laser hair removal is one of the most advanced methods of getting rid of full-body hair. As this uses the latest technology. It is quite cost-effective in the long run. The cost of laser hair removal fits every budget.

La Midas specializes in Laser Hair Removal and Hair transplant with US FDA approved Machines and procedures. They've 37 times of excellent experience in healthcare heritage. They give services relating to the Body and face, Underarms, upper lips hair removal, etc. The result to all your hair removal problems at one stop at the best cost.

Our dermatologists recommend a few preparatory steps as you plan your laser hair removal treatment.

Permanent Laser Hair Removal services in Gurgaon through Best Dermatologist with the latest technology. Book your session for hair removal treatment with indeed of excellent results.

[swordgrace]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ jon snow x female northern reader.

SYNOPSIS: you reunite with your beloved childhood friend, jon snow, at the edge of the world. the both of you have changed, but your feelings certainly haven’t.

note: season six jon, follows s6 ep4.

format: one-shot — not requested.

word count: 10.5K (not sorry).

warnings: SMUT (mdni), ramsay bolton warning, friends to lovers, confession of feelings, reunion sex, description of scars, jon is definitely more of a switch, horny reader (valid), lots of groping, making out, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, jon loves to munch, body worship, hair-pulling kink, unprotected sex, p in v sex, lotus position & missionary position, reader is on top and on bottom, light biting & tit sucking, soft ending + aftercare

author’s note: I don’t know where this came from, but I’m glad because I had so much fun with his one! I’m a Jon girlie until the very end <3 I would honestly love to write more of him if you guys enjoy this! thank you so much for the love and support!

𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲.

Direwolf sigils were replaced with that of flayed men, befitting for the screams that often emerged from the bowels of the Keep or the kennels, where enemies were fed to Ramsay Bolton’s pack of slavering hounds. Old faces that you had grown up with as a girl were gone — removed or slaughtered.

Your father, once loyal to House Stark and to Eddard himself, was strung-up and butchered for all to see, flayed alive by the Bolton men who now controlled Winterfell. You grew numb to the pain, numb to the shifting environment around you. It wasn’t the home that you had grown up in.

When you had caught sight of Sansa Stark in the courtyard, auburn tresses like searing embers against the backdrop of endless gray and snow, tears on her face, you knew that you needed to act.

You hadn’t known Sansa very well, but you did know her brother, Jon Snow. A beloved friend in your youth and teenage years, you had watched him go to the Night’s Watch. Any letters you’d written were likely thrown to the wayside, given the oaths that Men of the Watch swore, but you had longed to see him again.

Sansa recognized your face, no longer that of a young maiden with her head in the clouds. The both of you were women grown, trapped within Winterfell, and you wholly intended on escaping.

Fleeing Winterfell was perilous — dangerous, especially with the winter so biting and icy that it threatened to freeze away your extremities. Aided by Theon Greyjoy, once a captive of Ramsay, the three of you escaped into the harshness of the Northern woodlands.

Much of your time spent was in constant peril, with the looming threat of Bolton hounds nipping at your heels, search parties sent sprawling across the Wolfswood and beyond. Every rustle in the trees, every snap of a twig, distant scream of the wind made your steps quicken.

It was only when your lives were spared by Brienne of Tarth and her squire that you knew you were truly safe.

Castle Black had stood the testament of time, the last line of defense against whatever monsters lurked outside of The Wall. When its massive gates had opened, making way for your caravan, you felt shrewd in the presence of strangers. You hadn’t left Winterfell for much of your life, and only now, the world seemed so much larger.

When you saw Jon Snow again, more a man now than a boy you’d left behind in Winterfell, your heart nearly shriveled up within your chest. Youthfulness had left him, replaced with a permanent twinge of melancholy. A scar circled around his right eye, seemingly newer, and his mound of curled tresses remained tugged into a half-bun.

You stood in Brienne’s shadow, shuddering from the gnawing bite of the cold, feeling it slowly eat away at your bones. Sansa sobbed into her brother’s shoulder — and you couldn’t fault her for it. The viciousness she suffered at the hands of the Boltons was some of the worst cruelties one could imagine.

It was only when you caught Jon’s eye that he felt his breath hitch within his throat, and he felt like a young man again — freshly eight-and-ten, watching as he introduced you to Ghost for the first time. The sound of your curious laughter had filled the courtyard of Winterfell, and he remembered it as if it were yesterday.

You were from a distant dream, somewhere close yet far away, slipping in and out of his thoughts.

The last thing that you wanted was to detract from Sansa’s reunion with her brother, and so you kept quiet, bringing yourself into the shoddy shelter of your cloak. Your visage was icy, stung by the bitter wind of the far North, and your hands ached.

“You are safe here,” Jon murmured, brown hues glistening with appreciation as he looked upon Brienne of Tarth. “I owe you my gratitude for saving my sister. Whatever you need from Castle Black, you’ll have it.” He nodded, finding his gaze drifting towards you, begging for you to look his way.

Perhaps you didn’t recognize him, but that seemed far-fetched. Edd beckoned for Sansa to follow him at Jon’s command, hoping to find warmth in the guest chambers in the Lord Commander’s suite. The burden and duty no longer belonged to him.

Brienne bowed, hand atop the pommel of Oathkeeper, the Valyrian steel sheathed within its scabbard. “I swore an oath to Catelyn Stark that I would keep her daughters safe — and I shall keep it.” She replied, cerulean hues flickering towards you. “Lady Sansa’s escape wouldn’t have been possible without her.”

Jon gazed at you as if you had brought down the sun and stars themselves, moved mountains with will alone. Gods, he missed you terribly. His departure for the Night’s Watch had left a gaping hole in your heart, never to be filled, but seeing him again only seemed to make it ache with something painful.

Wordlessly, your feet carried you before logic could stop you in your tracks, and you flung yourself into Jon’s embrace, feeling his arms wrap around you. Brienne’s countenance glistened with the realization that you knew Jon, and she seemed to steer Podrick away, allowing the both of you some privacy.

“You’re alive,” You whispered into his shoulder, feeling hot tears trickle down your cheeks. Part of you worried that he might’ve perished, but here he stood, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, a man. “It has been so long, Jon Snow.”

He hadn’t been alive days ago — death had claimed him once before.

The scars that littered his body seemed to ache and throb with the mere thought of his own demise, and the anguish of betrayal that came with it. His dark brows furrowed together, visage one of gentle joy as he released you from his grasp. “You look older.” Older in the eyes — not in the face.

You were still just as beautiful, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen — your appearance hadn’t changed, and he hoped that your heart hadn’t, either. Your friendship kept him afloat for many years during his time in Winterfell, living as a Stark. You never cast your judgment upon him for being a bastard — and you never would.

“So do you,” Concern crept into your voice as you looked over his rugged beard and the scar upon his brow. “What happened to you, Jon?” There was so much he wished to tell you — from the Wildlings to the White Walkers, and his death. You could see it in his face — the maturity, the weight of duty, an abundance of stoicism.

“It’s a long story.” Jon huffed, Northern timbre crackled with a bout of faint amusement, lips twitching into the ghost of a smile. He gestured for you to follow him, striding across the courtyard of Castle Black in-search of his own quarters. He no longer held the Lord Commander’s chambers, and for good reason.

The men of Castle Black weren’t accustomed to seeing a woman — it evoked his streak of protectiveness when it came to you. He ensured that he kept close to your side during the lengthy trek to his chambers. Brienne was sworn to Sansa, and Jon knew that she would be well looked-after in the Lady’s stead.

Ascending a flight of rickety wooden steps, Jon led you to his quarters. Smaller, but he preferred his solitude. His brothers had stabbed him, tore away his mantle of Lord-Commander, killed him — as soon as he could, he intended on leaving.

Pushing the door open, you were met with the gust of a raging hearth, warming your brittle bones as you rubbed your hands together, “Gods,” You whispered, immediately moving toward the crackling fire, extending your hands to the flames, eyes closing in satisfaction. “I nearly thought we wouldn’t make it.”

Jon’s brows furrowed together, and he pulled up a wooden stool for you to sit, and so did he, firmly planted at your side like a dutiful guardian. “You’re safe here. I’ll have a bath drawn for you.” Dirt stained your visage, clothes tattered and worn from travel, hem shredded and covered in snow and mud.

Something forlorn reached his eyes, a distant glimmer of melancholy that you immediately recognized. He was still Jon, but something else seemed amiss. You lowered your hands into your lap, basking in the lick of the firelight. “All my life, I longed to see beyond Winterfell. Here I am — and here you are.” Your smile was threadbare.

The both of you had endured unimaginable hardships during your time apart, yet the warmth and fondness of your friendship remained, strong as ever. If Jon told you what all had happened, what he saw, what he went through — he wondered how much of it you would believe.

“Do you remember the night of the feast, when King Robert came to Winterfell?” Jon remembered — he remembered you, most of all. Gods, you looked so beautiful that night, bringing him a heaping plate of foodstuffs from the banquet, keeping him company throughout the night’s festivities.

“Of course,” It was one of the last days you had spent with Jon before he departed for the Night’s Watch. You had a plethora of regrets, and not kissing him that evening was one of them. The opportunity had dangled itself before you, and you never acted on it. “They sheared your face clean. A disservice to you, truly.”

A brief huff of laughter escaped him, lips twitching into a faint smile. “That’s what you chose to remember?” He remarked, planting his forearms against his knees. Admittedly, he chose to remember you — the way your dress clung to you, the vibrancy of your smile, tenderness in your eyes.

Your nose wrinkled in amusement before you waved him aside, a smile stretched across your features — happier this time, full of warmth. “I remember more than just that, but yes. You weren’t so dour, then.”

Jon chuckled, effectively shattering his stoic mask as he looked at you, head canting to one side. “I still was, always sulking about in some corner,” He mused, peering toward the hearth. “The things I’ve seen — the things I’ve been through …” His jaw tightened, and the wound to his heart seemed to ache.

Empathy tugged at your countenance, one that dissipated from something lighthearted to seriousness. You reached out, resting a palm against his bicep. “What happened to you, Jon? You don’t seem the same.” You asked, glancing toward the scar on his face.

He didn’t have the heart to tell you about his death and resurrection — not yet, anyway. It was still too fresh a wound to speak of, left gaping and open, one that would take time to fully heal. “I went beyond The Wall.” Jon stated, as if that would answer all of your questions.

Silence drifted between you both, and you exhaled, brows creasing in contemplation as you looked toward the fire. You let your hands drift closer again, hoping to absorb any lick of heat that you could find. Jon stared at you, unbeknownst to you, studying the intricacies of your visage, the way your tresses framed your face.

Abandoning the rank of Lord-Commander had been a liberating thing. He was done fighting for men who had countered him at every turn, men who slaughtered him. He was unsure of his next course of action, but he wanted you there with him, regardless.

Hunger and famine gnawed at your stomach, chewing you up and spitting you out. Even Jon could hear the violent lurch of your stomach, see the exhaustion etched into your features. He didn’t want to keep you, but he didn’t want to leave you, either.

“You should clean up, join us for supper,” Jon prompted, melting away the tenuous silence. “I’ll see about finding you something proper to wear.” He wanted to continue to reminisce with you, but you deserved a moment of solace, a chance to bathe and warm yourself without his intrusion.

You nodded, offering Jon an amiable smile. “I want us to continue our conversation,” You insisted, your voice soft and tender, a silky resonance. Instead, you reached for his hand, finding the calloused, roughened plane of his palm. “I’ve missed you, Jon.” If he hadn’t realized it by now, then he might’ve been blind.

Jon’s breath hitched within his throat, reduced to a mere boy in your presence. Whatever he thought of at that moment, it was inappropriate — it transcended all bonds of propriety and proper friendship, yet he couldn’t help it. How long had he thought of you? Yearned for you, dreamed of you whenever he was laying on the cold earth somewhere beyond the Wall?

If it weren’t for his uncertainty, he would’ve kissed you then and there.

He never stopped to consider what your life was like now — perhaps you had a husband and a family, a life that had moved on from him, no longer frozen in the time of your youth. Jon always feared that being a bastard would’ve stopped you from courtship, but he knew now that you didn’t care. You never did.

Years of letting yourself toil over Jon Snow had amounted to this — to this unspoken affection that permeated the fringes of your friendship. In his absence, you hadn’t taken a husband, you hadn’t wed. Part of you thought you would become a spinster and live out your days caring for your ailing father.

Tension simmered, sparking to life in the wake of your intertwined hands. “I missed you, too.” His accent seemed deliciously thick, noticeably huskier with the rougher pitch of his tone. Those earthly-brown hues of his bored right into you.

Your stare became doe-like, able to feel his calloused digits, how strong his hands had become, careworn from holding a sword. Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you let your hand recoil, placing it back into your lap. Your fingers curled tightly into your dress.

With a brief clearing of his throat, Jon decided to give you privacy. “I must speak with Sansa,” He murmured, standing up from his stool with an abruptness. His heart thumped madly within his chest, throat becoming thick as he gathered his bearings. “Come to supper when you’re finished.”

“Of course. Thank you, Jon.” You smiled, and he stepped out to give you your solace. His quarters were noticeably smaller yet homely, and you immediately decided to go to the washroom to clean yourself. Endless dirt and grime stained your flesh, making you feel worse than you already did.

As soon as you disrobed, sinking into the steaming-hot waters of the metal tub, you submerged your head beneath, coming up for a gasp of air. You glanced toward the hearth, scrubbing yourself down with a bristle brush and sponge, using the scarce amount of herbs and soap given to you.

You thought of Jon — thought of his hand, the firmness of it, the rough-hewn texture of his skin, the hardened muscle of his bicep beneath your grasp. You thought of the dismal, tempestuous storm of emotions raging war within his gaze when he spoke of being beyond The Wall.

It gave you much to dwell on as you scrubbed away the dirt from your skin, smoothing handfuls of hot water across your face. A simple Northerner’s dress and a furred cloak lay on the chair beside you, something suitable to wear that weren’t your tattered rags.

Sloshing around within the steaming water for a moment longer, you finished cleaning up, feeling the continuous gnaw of hunger strike at your stomach. The air was brusque and still bitter with a noticeable chill, the hearth continuing to roar in spite of being left with little attendance.

Tugging on the coarse, linen dress, you retrieved your boots, having thoroughly cleaned them off of hardened dirt. You let your hair dry by the fireside, swaddled in the cloak given to you by Jon. It swallowed you whole, yet it smelled like him — woodlands and scented smoke, the musk of a battle-hardened man.

By the time you joined the others for dinner, you felt cleaner than you had in some time, liberated from the weight of grime and hard travel. Exhaustion still clung to you like a shroud, but you assumed that a proper meal would make it easier to deal with.

Sansa greeted you with a thin smile, moving aside for you to sit next to her. There was never a fondness you shared between one another in your youth — you were always Jon’s friend, a girl who preferred mucking about in the outdoors and watching him fight with steel instead of any ladylike endeavors.

You had become quite proficient with an embroidery needle, and a dagger. They were one and the same for you at-times.

Jon’s silent admiration of you continued, hues fluttering over your form, now rid of soot and dirt. A warm plate of heaping food sat before you, helpings of potatoes, stewed vegetables, and roasted venison. You ate as if you hadn’t consumed a bite in years, the richness of it filling your belly.

“We are to take Winterfell back from the Boltons,” Sansa stated, her tone resolute and assured. “Do you think that there are still allies in Winterfell who might help our cause?” She inquired, her question directed towards you. You knew Winterfell — you’d been there this whole time.

“If Ramsay hasn’t flayed them all alive, then yes,” You murmured, thinking of your father’s corpse, strung-up on some wooden cross, muscle and flesh peeled away to reveal his bones. You shivered, masking your discomfort through a bite of vegetables. “There are still denizens inside who remember the Starks.”

Tormund Giantsbane, Jon’s ally and the leader of the Wildling forces, noisily bit into a haunch of meat, juices spraying across his ginger beard. Brienne’s discomfort and bewilderment was palpable as she turned away, blonde brows furrowing together.

“Could you find your way back in?” Tormund grunted, and you understood the insinuation of his proposal. If you were to rally those who still supported House Stark to Jon’s cause, staging a coup from the inside, it might assist his chances of taking the Keep.

“I suppose I could, but the Boltons rarely let anyone in or out, save for those bearing the Flayed Man sigil,” Jon seemed visibly apprehensive at Tormund’s suggestion, jaw tightening as he stuck his fork into a piece of meat. “It is dangerous now — one wrong move, and they string you up on the banisters, flay you for all to see.”

Tears glistened within your eyes at the harrowing memory of your father — you watched him be pinned to that post, screaming for mercy, men with knives cutting him apart as if he were a pig for slaughter. You hastily wiped them aside, chewing at the inside of your cheek.

Jon’s gaze never wavered from you whenever you spoke — Sansa could see it, Edd could see it.

“That is the fate that befell my father.” With a sharp exhale, you continued to eat, momentarily meeting Jon’s sullen-eyed stare, full of sympathy for your loss. His condolences were unspoken, but he didn’t have to say the words to convey meaning.

“We will find another way,” Jon murmured, brows knitting together. “You’ve risked enough to save Sansa’s life. I won’t let you risk it again. Out of the question.” There was a finality to his words, wrought with a glaring overprotective nature.

Sansa remembered the day they left your father out to bleed in the courtyard — Ramsay’s sickening smile remained emblazoned in the back of her mind. She reached to squeeze your hand, and you nodded, the both of you returning to the food.

She plucked at hers, turning a piece of meat over along her fork. Edd stifled a brief chuckle through a mouthful of hard rations. “Sorry about the food, m’ladies. It’s not what we’re known for.” He stated.

“That’s alright. There are more important things.” Sansa smiled, but you were in the throes of consuming everything that you could. Foodstuffs had become scarce in Winterfell, especially to those who weren’t Boltons — just residents. You had to scrounge and work for every scrap — this meal was the best you had in ages.

A brother of the Watch entered the Great Hall, carrying a scroll of parchment for Jon, one that was marked by the wax seal of Ramsay Bolton. “For you, Lord Commander.”

“I’m not the Lord Commander anymore.” Jon uttered, yet he took the scroll, anger seething within his eyes when he realized whose sigil held the parchment together. He unraveled it, jaw tightening as he began to read it aloud.

“To the traitorous bastard, Jon Snow, you allowed thousands of Wildlings past the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind and you have betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard — come and see. Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon …” Jon trailed off, breath quickening as he looked at Sansa.

Her countenance was one of shock and horror, tears welling within her eyes as she nodded for him to continue reading. The Hall was eerily silent, and you listened, brows furrowing together.

“His direwolf’s skin is on my floor — come and see. I want my bride back. Send her to me bastard, and I will not trouble you and your Wildling lovers. Keep her from me and I will ride North and slaughter every Wildling man, woman, and babe living under your protection. You will watch as I skin them living, you will …” He stopped.

“Go on.” Sansa murmured, but Jon refused, rolling up the parchment with a despondent, rageful expression. He felt it blossom throughout his chest, the very same anger that consumed him when he sentenced his brothers to die.

“It’s just more of the same.” Jon quipped, preparing to tear it asunder, but Sansa reached over to take it from his hands, unraveling the parchment.

“You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister and your Northern bitch. You will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother — then I will spoon your eyes from your sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.” She read, a shudder within her voice.

You shivered, feeling a pang of disgust and fear rattle through you, goosebumps cascading along your spine. Ramsay knew of you — knew that you helped Sansa to escape, and knew of your affiliation with Jon Snow.

“Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.” Jon grit out through clenched teeth, fists tightening around Ramsay’s missive. He would kill him for what he did — to Sansa, to you, to his brother. He swore it by whatever Gods were willing to listen.

“Roose Bolton is dead — Ramsay killed him. Now, he has our brother — he has Rickon.” Sansa’s voice trembled, but she remained stalwart, even if she knew what a monster Ramsay was. She used to think that Joffrey was the root of all evil — she was wrong.

“We don’t know that.” Jon protested, but Sansa stopped him.

“We do. He has five-thousand men, at least — I overheard him talking about it when he prepared for Stannis’s attack.” She replied, folding her arms together. You felt nothing but admiration for her — sorrow, perhaps, but you admired her strength in the midst of this.

“How many men do we have?” Jon looked to Tormund, desperate for answers, for a shred of something positive. They were lesser in numbers than the Boltons — they would need allies, and they would need them swiftly.

“Ones that can march and fight? Two-thousand.” Tormund replied. They had a Giant — that had to count for at least fifty men, if they were lucky.

“Jon,” You spoke up at long last, finding your voice as you sat soundly at Sansa’s side. “You are the last true son of the Warden of the North. Northern families are loyal, and they will fight for you if you ask it of them.” The gentle encouragement you offered gave him much to think about.

Sansa reached across the table, seizing Jon’s arm. “A monster has taken our home and our brother. We have to go back to Winterfell, to save them both.” She pleaded, auburn brows furrowing together. It was the right course of action — it had been years since a Stark had truly sat in Winterfell.

Jon nodded, determination tempering his anger, and the desire for justice. He remembered wanting to ride North to help Robb’s cause, and he didn’t. Sometimes he wondered what would’ve happened if he did — if his brother might’ve survived. There was no time for inaction, not anymore.

“We will reconvene at first light, to discuss our next move.” He briefly squeezed Sansa’s hand before glancing at you. “You need to rest — both of you.” It wasn’t a request — more of a command, really. You and Sansa had been running from Winterfell for days before Brienne happened across you.

You took your leave, hoping to pray about your father alone before dusk settled in.

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.

Brienne had taken Sansa back to her chambers for the evening, and you had gone to the ramparts after finishing your supper.

The death of your father was still an unsightly wound, something that had cut you right to the bone. He was your only family left — the last tether that you had, the last one to truly care for you. It left you with a gaping void of loneliness, one that had only felt healed in Jon’s presence.

Flickering torchlight danced along the wooden bridge that connected two sides of Castle Black, and despite the chill of the air, you remained outside. Rest eluded you, and you knew that you would be up all evening, tarrying around to try and occupy your mind.

Darkening skies twinkled with stars, partially obscured by large wisps of gray clouds, and with it, a light snowfall. The fur-lined cloak you wore kept you warm, shrouded from the gnawing chill as you listened to footsteps resonate from your left side.

The pale shadow of Ghost trotted alongside him, those crimson eyes glowering through the encroaching dusk. The last time you had seen Jon’s direwolf, he was the size of a small dog — now, he was massive, nearly coming up to your shoulder with the tips of his ears.

“What did you feed him?” You mused, kneeling down to greet Ghost as if he were an old friend. You recalled the day that Jon had brought the albino pup home, nothing more than a scraggly runt hidden in his cloak. Ghost nudged your hand, silently asking for a scratch along his ears.

Jon smiled, coming to stand near your side as he peered down into the silent courtyard of Castle Black. It was quiet, save for the occasional soldier scurrying across the dirt or the distant howl of the wind. “He’s much larger than I expected him to be,” He confessed. “Seems he remembers you.”

Ghost whined, ruby eyes studying you intensely, as if he recalled your last meeting. The pale direwolf allowed you to dote on him for a moment longer, padding off to lay outside of Jon’s chambers. You watched him go, a smile spreading across your face.

Your countenance softened at the sight of Jon, tousled curls still tugged into a loose half-bun, a smile toying at either corner of his mouth. “Aren’t you cold?” He questioned, noticing the way your form quivered beneath the cloak he’d given you.

“Quite,” A brief chuckle left you as you wring your hands together, letting them sink into the thick fur that you tugged tighter around you. “I don’t believe that I will be able to sleep tonight, given the circumstances.” You confessed, and he seemed empathetic.

“I don’t sleep much — not anymore.” The night that he had found himself resurrected from the black shroud of death, he did not sleep. Instead, he lay waiting for his brothers to burst through the door, knives drawn, waiting to send him to the cold, hard earth.

Jon slept with Longclaw at his side — he imagined that he’d never feel safe again without it by his hip.

A comfortable silence of understanding drifted between the both of you, and you felt him lean closer, brows furrowing together. “I am sorry about your father,” Jon murmured, knowing what it was like to lose his own. “I am sorry for what they did to him.”

Tears pricked your eyes again, yet you refused to let them fall, jaw tensing before you shook your head. “He is with the Gods now,” You whispered, mustering a threadbare smile despite the melancholy of your talks. “I hope that Ramsay Bolton is not shown any mercy.”

Jon hadn’t heard you speak like that before — so full of pain, an agony in your soft tone that he wished he could rip away from you, place the burden on his shoulders. “We will take back Winterfell — for my family, for yours, for the North. I promise.”

“You’re a good man, Jon.” The two of you remained huddled close together, and you very nearly reached for his hands again, but decided against it. “You always have been, despite what insults you’ve been hurled. They are half the man that you are.”

He was a good man, despite what he thought of himself — an honorable man, the very best of them. His shining qualities were often diminished in the face of being a bastard, and you wished it weren’t so. Jon had long been ostracized for it, even if it was no fault of his own.

Jon hadn’t believed it, that he was truly good. He had done plenty of wrong — broke his vows to the Night’s Watch, killed many men, killed a boy, and for what? What good had come out of it all, other than being sent to an early grave for his actions?

You had always believed in him steadfastly, and he often felt undeserving of your praise. Nonetheless, Jon offered you a forlorn look, smile not reaching his eyes as he bowed his head. “I wish I could believe you.” Through a softly-spoken confession, he turned to face the cutting bite of the Northern winds.

As darkness hovered, the cold beginning to bite at his flesh, Jon gestured toward the doors to his chambers. “It’s getting cold,” Even he had his limits, hardiness tested by the harshness of winter. “Come on.” His hand hovered near the small of your back, sending a shiver down your spine.

The warm sanctuary of his chambers offered you a much-needed relief, hearth roaring beside his bed, lined in countless furs. The furnishings were scarce, and he placed Longclaw at his bedside, never very far from his grasp. An orange glow permeated all it touched, encompassing you in its gentle heat.

Ghost stayed outside, furs able to outlast the encroaching winter. He was the watcher tonight, ensuring that no strangers or brothers disturbed his friend.

You moved to sit against the large, rustic footlocker that sat at the end of his bed, closest to the hearth. The cloak you wore swallowed you whole, allowing you to descend right into the pile of furs, warming your icy flesh. Jon sat beside you, keeping a comfortable distance, one that many might’ve labeled as prudish.

Jon’s lack of subtlety became brazenly clear, dark hues shamelessly fluttering across your face, absorbing the finer details of your form. You had grown into your beauty, and even then, he was at your mercy — you were incomparable in his eyes.

The sting of embarrassment rippled through him, his behavior akin to a young man with an unrequited affection. His one experience with a Wildling woman had been in an effort to feel something, anything — a retaliation against the Night’s Watch.

You were different — you were his friend, a girl he’d known since childhood, now grown into the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. It was as if you reduced him to a mere pup without even trying, unbeknownst to you.

Jon carried a flagon of honeyed mead, the warm liquid churning about within its leather confines. It tasted stale, but it was better than he expected it to be, taking a brief swig. He hoped that it would quell his nerves, but perhaps it was wishful thinking.

“I’ve never been so far away from home before,” You sighed, breaking the comfortable silence with an amiable smile. “I used to always dream of going elsewhere, an adventure away from Winterfell. Now that I’ve gone, I want nothing more than to go back.”

“Has it changed much?” Jon inquired, voice dropping into a husky lull that made you shiver. His tone had become rugged, gruff — that familiar Northern timbre always filled you with a sense of comfort and ease. He hadn’t been to Winterfell in years.

“No,” Your visage grew forlorn, tinged with a peculiar sadness as your lips wavered into a half-frown. “Just those who command it.” The homely stone and Stark banners were all you knew for the longest time — and you hoped that it would be so again.

You wanted to cease dwelling on all things bleak and dreary, and instead, you smiled at Jon, countenance melding into one of genuineness. He caught your eye, features growing unbearably hot beneath the ardor of your gaze. Something passed between the both of you, something that caused you to look away; smitten.

Jon exhaled, taking a swig of the mead before offering it up to you. Liquor wasn’t something he necessarily enjoyed, but it did take some little edge off — for now, anyway. He watched with a faint smile as you took it, giving the cork a brief sniff, nose wrinkling.

Nevertheless, you took a drink, stinging liquid burning your throat on the way down. You sputtered, your expression one of clear distaste as you handed it back to him. “Gods, what is that supposed to be? The Night’s Watch isn’t known for their ale, either.” You huffed.

A huff of laughter tore past his lips, and at last, you could see the glint of his pearlescent teeth, a smile that could melt The Wall itself. “Still can’t handle your drink after all this time?” Jon remarked, corking the flagon of mead as he placed it aside. He didn’t want to drink himself into a stupor with you present.

“There were never any occasions that called for it,” You retorted, a warm playfulness permeating your tone. You leaned forward atop the footlocker, gazing into the flickering flames, its heat basking your visage. “Winterfell wasn’t the same after your family left. Everything seemed so dour, so hopeless.”

Jon hung his head, hands folded together as he contemplated your statement. “Sometimes, I wish I’d never left.” He confessed, tone slipping into something silent, as if he were sharing his greatest sin with the septa. There were times where he missed home — missed what might’ve been.

Chewing at the inside of your cheek, you didn’t hesitate to look at him, hues swimming with a wet sheen. Reminiscing often brought about plenty of sentiments for you, sentiments that you thought you’d buried. “Sometimes I wish that you hadn’t left, either.” You whispered.

None of this felt real.

There was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere, a tension that had risen from the lingering flames of a longstanding friendship. Jon felt an unusual swell within his stomach, the onslaught of boyish nerves, yet he pushed them aside for the sake of the moment. It all seemed to feel so right, as if this had been long in the making.

Jon stared at you, absentmindedly tilting closer, enough to where you could feel the heat of his honey-tinged breath fan across your face. “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t?” He murmured, hoping that you would confirm whatever it was that he felt, too.

“I am not sure,” Butterflies erupted within the pit of your stomach, hands beginning to reach for one another, even if you hadn’t fully realized it yourself. “I would like to think that I would’ve gained the courage to tell you how I truly felt about you.” There wasn’t an ounce of subtlety present — you knew what you meant, he knew what you meant.

I love you — it was on the tip of his tongue, begging to be released, to let his confession take wing into the open air. He should’ve told you that night of the feast, when you took his hand and told him that you would always defend his honor and his name.

“Jon.” Your voice was nothing more than a saccharine whisper, eyes wide and doe-like, a wordless plea to act on whatever it was he felt. Before you could say another word, Jon’s mouth was on yours, hot and rugged, everything that you imagined it would be.

His calloused hand rose to cup your face, rough pads of his digits tracing across your cheek, your jaw — you felt like velvet, an unblemished plane that had eagerly awaited his touch. Jon had always fantasized about kissing you, and the reality of it far exceeded any expectations he might’ve had.

The sudden intensity of the kiss had grown, as if throwing kindling onto an open flame. You weren’t prepared for it, but you needed more. A moan stirred within your throat as you pressed forward, hands reaching for the front of his leather-studded tunic.

Jon kissed you as if you were the air itself, every breath he drew consuming you, dragging you in until you were intertwined. He seized your waist, rough palm sinking into the coarse material of your dress, nearly shuddering at the feeling of your body beneath his palm.

“I love you,” He uttered against your mouth, forehead briefly bumping into yours as he held you close, the weight of his confession beginning to sink in. “I never wish to be parted from you — from this day, until my last day.” Jon promised, voice rumbling and solemn, knowing that he would keep his vow.

Incredulously, you gazed at him with wide eyes, unable to escape the feeling of complete and utter joy you experienced at his confession. Breathless, you took a moment to compose yourself, gather your bearings before you smiled. “Don’t leave me again, Jon Snow.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Jon murmured, eagerly seeking your mouth again, tugging you in for a heated kiss. Gods, your mouth was so disarmingly soft, pliant and plush against his lips, giving him everything that he ever imagined and so much more.

A gentle, uttered string of breathy ‘I love you’s’ left you over and over again, each kiss ripping the air from your lungs, leaving your heart hammering beneath your breast. You shrugged the cloak aside, letting it pool around you, partially strewn across the footlocker.

Desperation laced your kisses, as if something might threaten to rip you away from the excitement of the moment, or that you might wake up from a distant dream. Jon was lost in your mouth, a grunt blossoming from his chest when he hauled you closer, until no sliver of space remained.

He stood up, bringing you with him, standing atop the sprawling furs of slain stags, closer to the lick of the hearth. It allowed him to better hold you, hands respectfully roaming your body, never allowing himself to slip below your hips. “Wait.” He rasped, removing his mouth from yours.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered, fearing that you had vastly overstepped. This was all somewhat unfamiliar, the territory new and unexpected. You had been with a man before, but it never crossed a certain threshold — you wouldn’t allow it.

“Is this what you want?” Jon questioned, dark brows knitting together as he regarded you with caution, a devotion reserved only for you. He couldn’t continue without hearing the certainty escape your mouth — he hadn’t done this in some time, himself.

Gods, you loved him. There was a lack of hesitation in his movements, but instead, a desire for clarity. He didn’t want you to feel obligated or trapped in some corner — he wanted you to want him. A twinkle of ardor glistened within your warm gaze as you brought your hands together at the nape of his neck.

It’s what you’ve wanted for such a long time — a terribly long time, at that. Everything felt as if you were wading through a dream, one that would shatter at any moment. “Yes,” You whispered, longing to unfasten the leather buckles and straps that held his tunic together. “More than anything.”

Jon’s breath hitched, a subtle noise, desire beginning to blossom throughout his chest. His grasp on you became innately protective and needy, hands gingerly kneading into your curves. He bent down for another kiss, arms caging themselves around you, bringing you into the warm expanse of his chest.

Soft fingertips raked through his dark curls, bringing him to heel as he kissed you, unashamed of his clear desperation. It no longer felt like the ghost of a distant thought — this was a blissful reality. He helped you to remove the bulky leather of his jerkin, but part of him feared fully removing his clothes.

His scars would reveal the abhorrent truth — that he died, brought back to life from the twisted magic of a Fire Priestess. Jon’s hesitation was palpable, especially when your digits sank into the coarse material of his tunic. The leather fell to the wayside, and you were closer to seeing him disrobed.

Jon sluggishly reached for the linen ties that held your dress together, and you gave him a nod, subtly encouraging him to unravel you. As he gently tugged upon the tie, the fabric sagged upon your shoulders, allowing you to push it aside, stepping out of it altogether.

A strangled gasp caught within the depths of his throat, manifesting as a sharp exhale that consumed his ribcage. You were every bit as wonderful as he’d imagined you to be — such fantasies had clung to the fringes of his mind out in the frozen wastelands beyond The Wall.

The plane of your flesh was velvetlike, bathed in the flickering firelight of the hearth, dancing across your body with its incandescent glow. Jon’s jaw visibly tightened, restraining himself from touching you as he pleased. The longer he stood, gawking at your body like some clueless boy, the more emboldened you became.

Careworn digits gingerly wrapped around his vambrace, unfastening the buckles there before you guided his hand to your chest. “There isn’t a need to be bashful,” You whispered, noticing the way his pupils dilated when his calloused palm embraced your pliant breast. “I want you to touch me.” You gently encouraged him.

Jon appeared a touch forlorn, attempting to mask his gnawing fear at the idea of you seeing him. “It’s not you,” His smile was humorless — pensive, even. “Gods, you’re beautiful.” He huffed, hand drifting toward your hip, shuddering at the satiny texture of your skin.

Warmth crept across your spine in the wake of his breathless compliment, prompting you to unfasten his other vambrace. He aimed to distract you, mouth moving toward the spot where your jaw met your neck, beard scratching ragged against your flesh.

He palmed your breast, reveling in the softness of you beneath his rough-hewn hand, tracing along your hip until he squeezed your derrière. Everything about you was plush and inviting, as if you were a goddess incarnate.

Jon’s kiss became hungry, wanton and passionate as his mouth peppered itself along your throat, from your jaw to jugular. He treated you kindly; gracious hands that melded themselves to your form, like a sculptor to his masterpiece.

Saccharine soaps and hints of underlying flora clung to your flesh like a springtime haze, powerful enough to melt this ice he felt. You brought with you such warmth that it threatened to swallow him whole; he delighted in it, letting you shake the frost from his bones.

Lips danced together with a long-repressed passion, now exploding like crackles of fire within a hearth, spontaneous yet heated. You kissed Jon as if he might slip away from you, turning into dust between your fingertips.

A low moan stirred within the depths of your throat when his fingers toyed with your pebbling nipple, prompting you to grip his tresses with an unexpected harshness. You mumbled a sheepish apology, yet he paid little mind to it, dusky hues swirling with an ardent adoration that made your stomach churn.

As your hand drifted to the hem of his worn, linen tunic, he very nearly stopped you — yet, part of him wished for you to see him without a spoken word. Jon’s chest tightened with quickened breaths as you kindly maneuvered the clothing away, and he watched, hues fixated upon your bewildered countenance.

A battlefield — innumerable scars, so fresh that you nearly held your hand over them to stop the bleeding, gouged across his pallid flesh. One that seemed to sting the most rest over his heart, curved and garish, the stroke of a vengeful knife that ended his life.

Wordlessly, you lifted your hand, fingertips tracing across his chest, feather-light and disarmingly gentle; the opposite of the knives that had left their mark. Your brows furrowed together, and you wondered how he could’ve survived something like this — if he survived something like this.

Jon shivered at your embrace, as sweet as the maiden’s grace, caressing him with your resplendent touch. He held you close, arm caging you in, his other hand stroking beneath your breast, above your ribcage. “I didn’t make it,” He rasped, noticing the glimmer of understanding in your eyes. “I’d like to think that the Gods wanted me to see you again.”

His smile warmed you, more than any blazing hearth could, more than that of summertime. A fluttering sensation spread throughout your chest, followed by a hitch in your throat that you stumbled over. “Jon,” You whispered, stroking across his chest with a peculiar tenderness. “I am so sorry.”

It wasn’t the time for condolences — such sentiments could wait. Jon didn’t want your coupling to be soured by what had happened, and instead, he shook his head. His yearning for you trumped that of any sorrow and mulling over death, prompting him to press his mouth against yours once more.

The kiss seemed to convey the unspoken message, his desire to tend to you before discussing the intricacies of his scars. Jon dutifully dipped down to kiss your throat again, and then your collarbone, guiding you towards the fur-laden expanse of his bed.

As you lowered yourself onto your back, Jon kicked his boots aside, crawling across the thick mound of pelts to cover your body with his. You sluggishly spread your legs, allowing him to reside in the space between, palms planted on either side of your head.

Each heated kiss blossomed across your flesh, as he peppered his lips along your shoulder and collarbone, descending toward the valley between your breasts. It was flesh he’d longed to grace, savoring every second spent; his mouth smoothed across the silken flesh beneath your breast.

“Jon,” A sigh of passion tore past your lips, gooseflesh coalescing along your spine as he continued his descent, knowing exactly what he sought. The heat between your thighs sang to him like a siren’s song, and you weren’t about to intercede. “Please, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

The ragged scruff of his beard scratched pleasantly against your skin, the sort of burn that left you aching for more. He kissed across your stomach, inch by agonizing inch, hand reaching back to caress along your calf. It was slow, exploratory — he wanted to learn every curve, every dip and expanse of flesh.

A hazy heat gripped your surroundings, as if everything had become feverish, touched by a fog of warmth that permeated you, sank into him. Doe-eyed hues flickered toward the taut muscle of his back, the blackness of his curly tresses, the scar around his eye.

Planting a kiss against your hip bone, Jon sighed into your thigh, hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh. His belly churned with an excitable heat, having waited for such a terribly long time to finally have you. He smoothed his calloused palm along your leg, ascending until he held your haunch.

Gods, you were in ruins — Jon hadn’t even placed his mouth upon you, and you writhed in anticipation. No man had been courageous enough to treat you this way, yet Jon lacked hesitation, settling onto his stomach as he bullied his way between your thighs.

Raking hot embers across your cunt, Jon lapped along your slit, eyelashes fluttering at the sound of your euphoric whimpering. He hadn’t heard a sound quite like that before, and from your lips, it was abhorrently sinful.

He sighed your name; reverent, a prayer only spoken between Gods and men — and you are no man. It made you shiver, belly filling with a fire that demanded to be extinguished, soothed only by the sweet laps of your lover’s tongue.

Jon’s mind reeled with the sight of you — flushed with pleasure, visage contorted into a look of complete and utter bliss. He continued without pause, nose brushing across your mound as he buried his tongue into you, greedily lapping at your cunt as if he were a man starved.

Your heart hammered beneath your breast, that of sheer excitement, consuming you like a tidal wave as you brazenly reached for his tresses. Sinking your digits into the crown of his tousled curls, you tugged, showing your appreciation in an unorthodox manner.

“J—Jon!” A strangled moan tore past your mouth, wisps of air being ripped from your lungs. Jon was inherently greedy, consuming you in the way that you deserved, finding his solace between your thighs. His dutiful lapping continued, from the pearl of your cunt to your aching entrance.

Akin to ice against your skin, Jon’s palms glided along your thighs, moving to trace your hips. His mouth was like a wave of fire, beard searing the silky flesh of your legs as you involuntarily squeezed his head. You hadn’t intended to suffocate him, but it was a worthwhile demise, in his perspective.

One hand fisted the furs, digging in until you threatened to rip it apart, hips occasionally jerking and jolting forward into his mouth. He hadn’t tasted something as sweet as you, like a fine stout coating his tongue, leaving him intoxicating; craving more.

His eyes had nearly fluttered shut, half-lidded slits that occasionally flickered to catch a glimpse of your blissful countenance. Your back arched from the furs, seeking his mouth with reckless abandon as he lapped along your cunt, tongue briefly flicking over your clit.

It was as if you’d been struck by lightning, body bristling with a long-repressed pleasure, something that only he could cure. The sensation of his calloused skin against your plane of silk was a satisfying juxtaposition — he never wanted another’s touch again.

Jon burned for you in every way imaginable, a sonorous groan ripping through the depths of his throat as he moved to lap at your cunt again. His ministrations were slow, made to explore and to savor you instead of letting it all become rushed.

Your fingertips brushed across his scalp, untangling his curls from the half-bun he’d placed them into. They fell across his head, dark and somewhat cropped. He groaned at the sensation, feeling you pull and grip his tresses, guiding your hips closer.

Rough-hewn hands gingerly kneaded into the pliant flesh of your thighs, caressing their way up and down in a soothing manner. Jon savored your taste, letting your nectar find its purchase against his chin, glistening along his lips. He kissed your clit, evoking a breathy sigh from you.

It had been such a long time for the both of you, intensified by feelings of a long-seated desire and carnality, friendship transcending all bonds of propriety. Jon felt his cock twitch within his trousers, incessantly throbbing and straining against the thicker material, longing to be inside of you.

A cry of delight tore past your mouth as you involuntarily jolted forward, grinding yourself into his mouth. Jon treated you to a barrage of eager laps of his tongue, from your entrance to the sensitive pearl of your cunt.

Dragging his tongue in languid circles around your clit, he watched as you quivered and moaned, mouth agape, back arched off of the furs. Knowing what path to follow, he showed attention to your neglected pearl, nose buried into the softness of your mound.

“Jon,” You sputtered, thighs molding themselves to either side of his face, feeling the scratch of his beard rake itself against your silky skin. He listened, dutiful and with a burning desire to please you, continuing to lap at your clit. “Gods, don’t stop.” A trembling exhale left you.

It was then that he melded his lips around the aching bud, beginning to suck on your pearl with a pang of vigor. You shuddered, rattling like a leaf as you haplessly tugged on his mane of curls, hips tilting upwards into his mouth. You whined, fisting the furs at your side.

Jon did not relent, feeling the ironclad grip you assumed, knowing that he was bringing you close to your release. White-hot sparks fluttered across your vision, body singing his praises, collarbone glittering with the first inklings of perspiration.

A strangled gasp tore through your throat, followed by a myriad of moans and pleading whimpers, seeking friction against his mouth. Your release was fast approaching, like a tidal wave of heat, flooding across your body with its intensity. Jon’s name emerged from your lips as if it were the only word you knew.

The pinnacle of your release made you feel as if you were floating, legs shaking in the blissful aftermath, feeling Jon lap at your core a few times over. You exhaled, chest heaving from exertion as you loosened your hold upon his tresses.

“You’ll have to let me do that again.” Jon murmured, and that seemed to ensnare your attention. Seven Hells — you would let him do that for as long as he pleased, whenever he liked. He pressed a few soft kisses against the inside of your thigh, crawling up to be near you.

“Whenever you would like, I will never protest.” You mused, gaze sparkling with mirth and adoration, inviting him back to being on top of you. Though, your impulses had other plans, as your palm pressed against his shoulder. “There is something I wanted to try.”

The softness of your suggestion seemed to placate Jon, who felt you push his shoulder until you guided him onto his back, hooking a leg over his lap. Gods, he would’ve stayed like that for an eternity if you asked it of him. As you situated yourself on top of him, Jon sat up enough to reach you, kiss you if he wanted to.

He felt your fingers move towards the laces of his breeches, and he didn’t stop you, observing you in rapturous hunger instead. His breath hitched, mouth moving inward to press a string of hot kisses against the column of your throat.

“Do you know how long I’ve dreamed about this?” Jon’s confession emerged as a husky sigh, murmured against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. It came as a surprise, a wonderful one, and it only made your hands move in a borderline frenzy.

Freeing his cock from its confines, you moved yourself up upon your knees, aided by his strong, firm hands, coming to rest just below your derrière. The flushed tip of his length nudged against your cunt, prompting you to sigh with passion.

“Jon,” A pleading moan tore past your mouth, mind becoming fuzzy as you attempted to absorb the genuineness of his words. The Northern timbre of his hoarse baritone made you tremble, hands steadying themselves upon his shoulders. “Please.”

In a sluggish descent, he gently lowered you onto his cock, the both of you shivering in-tandem. The low, throaty groan that escaped him made your stomach churn with molten heat, letting you find your own pace. He was bigger than you imagined, filling you perfectly.

Mouths danced together and then clashed again, kiss after kiss of pure ardor, tongues becoming exploratory as you brazenly lapped at his lower lip. It was messy and hot, feverishly so, bringing the both of you to heel as you happily drowned within desire.

Your cunt was tight around him, slick with arousal as you continued to lower yourself, inch by blissful inch until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Jon’s heavy pants fluttered across your throat, mouth pressing near the curve of your jaw.

Jon was captivated by you, inhaling a gust of your soap-laden scent, beard ragged against your soft skin as he continued to kiss along your neck. His hands were resolute in guiding you, rocking you up and down along his cock, chest to chest with you.

Tangled sighs and low, heavy breaths wove together, forming a heated cacophony that filled his chambers with your lewd activities. The feeling of his calloused hands sinking into your plush flesh was mesmerizing, leaving behind a wave of goosebumps that crawled across your skin.

The sensation of his cock filling you completely, nearly kissing your womb, almost made you sob from delight. The friction of your bodies was a delicious thing, with your chest brushing against his, knees squeezing near his waist, hands gripping his shoulders.

A burning sting began to dance along your thighs, the exertion of muscle as you rode him, moving up and down in somewhat rhythmic motions. His cock speared you over and over again, filling you completely before you nearly drew yourself out, and back down again.

“Gods,” You sighed, nails sinking into the muscle of his shoulders, your countenance one of complete and utter pleasure. Leaving behind angry-red crescents against his pale skin, you didn’t want the feeling to end. “Jon, please — don’t stop!” With a simpering moan, your head began to roll back slightly.

Spurred by your softly-spoken praise and breathy sighs, Jon did not relent, hands sinking into your thighs as he guided you against his cock. The angle allowed for friction to blossom, chests bumping together, bodies tangled up within one another.

He kissed his way along your collarbone, bringing you up enough to trap one of your nipples within his mouth. The head of his cock remained pleasantly buried within your cunt, the warming of it making you writhe. He held you steady, greedily kissing at your pert breasts.

One of your hands fisted into his dark curls, tugging on them as if you were attempting to wrangle him into submission. His mouth peppered warm, needy kisses around the valley between your breasts before he let you sink yourself back down, cunt clenching around his cock.

Shameless strings of sinful noises left you in droves, eyes closed in a state of ecstasy. Jon groaned with you, vocalizing his own pleasure as he coaxed you down towards the furs, not wanting to place you there unless you consented.

With a brief bob of your head, you found yourself beneath Jon, his musculature covering you, content between your legs as he hitched one around his hips. The calloused plane of his palm wrapped around your calf, causing you to shiver at the foreign contact.

He could look upon your face, see the way your visage contorted into pure pleasure when he rocked forward, cock burying itself deep into your cunt. His skin was flushed, expression somewhat doe-eyed and awestruck, even if you were too lost to notice.

Your hands moved, one finding its purchase against his bicep, the other on his shoulder as his pace began to intensify. It was a chase, galloping after his release as he bent to kiss you, releasing a grunt into your mouth when you rolled your hips forward.

The wooden frame of his bed began to creak, groaning in protest from the vigor of his ministrations. You didn’t care if he was a touch rougher with you — Gods, you needed him. Heat swirled within your stomach, gnawing at your bones, making your toes curl in delight.

“Jon!” You cried, and that nearly sent him soaring over the edge, cock throbbing inside of you. The friction of your pelvis grinding against him almost made his resolve shatter into two. He lost count of how many times his cock sank into you — it was all blurring together.

The inevitable rush of euphoria reached him when his release came, hot and blistering, making him see stars as he groaned your name. Your nails were digging into his bicep, a gasp emerging from your throat when he thrust into you again.

Ropes of warm spend painted your insides, and he very nearly collapsed on top of you. He had the decency to hold himself afloat, hand tracing along your calf and to the crook of your knee, letting you unhook your leg.

Jon removed himself from you, attempting to gather his breath as he laid at your side, gazing at the dark ceiling above. Your breathing was just as unsteady and erratic as you drifted down from your buzzing high, wiping beads of perspiration from your brow.

Once he recuperated, Jon looked at you, noticing the smile on your face, the unrestrained delight you were experiencing as you rolled over. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He murmured, watching as you began to shamelessly crawl into his arms.

“Quite the opposite,” You hummed, feeling him adjust the furs, drawing them both around you. Despite the feverish pitch of the room, the frost would settle in again soon, especially at the hour of the bat. “Were you jesting when you said you dreamed about this?”

Bewildered, Jon cast his eyes toward you, canting his head to one side. “Of course I was serious,” He huffed, surprised that you would think otherwise. “You were all I could think about, north of The Wall.” His confession was genuine, sweetly-spoken.

“You don’t have to dream about it anymore,” Your voice soothed him, a sound that he had yearned for with a blistering ache. He felt as if you would slip away from him if he let you go. “I won’t leave you.” Your smile was warm enough to melt even the hardiest of frost.

Jon’s lips tugged into a smile, one that you rarely saw beneath the brooding curtain of his visage. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, allowing you to get comfortable against him. The silence that followed allowed for some contemplation, absorbing all of what had transpired.

His scars seemed so fresh when they caught your eye. With a forlornly look, you dragged your fingers over the scar above his heart, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. Your body still felt as if it were caught in some haze, coming down from the blissful aftermath of your coupling.

“If you hadn’t come back …” You trailed off, attempting to refuse to think of some painful reality where Jon perished, but the thought briefly crossed your mind. If he had, none of this would be happening — he wouldn’t be holding you in his arms.

“But I am here,” Jon’s husky timbre shook you to your core as he planted his palm against your cheek, guiding you to look at him. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not leaving you.” It was a promise — insistent, spoken from a man who now fully understood the weight of love, the weight of sacrifice.

You nodded, wordlessly reaching to hold his hand, feeling the arm he had caged around you plant itself against the small of your back. He drew circles there, brows knitting together as he leaned in to kiss you. It was hard and warm, so real — he made sure that you understood exactly what he meant.

Within the warm embrace of his arms, you let your head recline against his chest, feeling him draw you closer, until there was no space left between the both of you. He listened to the steady, shallow sound of your breathing afterwards.

At the edge of the world, he had you — and that was all he would ever need.

[siempre-bucky]

not a senator.

Qimir x Senator!Reader

Summary: On the run after a failed assassination attempt, you run into a peculiar apothecary owner

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of blood

A/N: For the Anon that requested a senator!reader meet cute <3

You weren’t sure how long you’d been running through the outskirts of Olega, it felt like as soon as you left your ship you were being followed, hunted. The branches of the trees rustled in warning, and the whispers of threats danced along your ears. You picked up the bottom of your cloak, the last thing tethering you to your former self, and ran. It was a gift from the Senator elected before you, a soft navy blue velvet with matching metallic fiber woven into seams. You treated it as a reminder of who you once were. 

 The state of exhaustion had set in, hunger squeezed your stomach, but the adrenaline kept you going. 

Get to safety, get far from here, the terrified guard told you in the dead of night, an assassin lying dead at the foot of your bed in a pool of crimson that glowed in the bright lights of the Courscant nightlife outside the large windows of your room. It was an assassination attempt, a group of assassins hired by political rivals to remove you from the Senate—permanently. Supposedly, it was an era of peace but you soon learned how fleeting peace was. 

“Get the Senator!” a man seethed, pointing his knife in your direction as you disappeared into the bustling crowd of the marketplace, his other hand had the collar of his henchman clenched tightly in his fist, pulling the man in with a look of sudden fear in his eyes. The market had made good cover so far, the people of the planet were barely paying any attention to you running for your life. They went about their business, loitering on rust ridden buildings and eagerly bartering for goods. 

You heard someone mention an apothecary as you passed them. Your eyes hastily searched for it, just make it there. There’d be plenty of places to hide inside. You slid the dirty red door open and walked inside cautiously, the patrons paying no mind as you stepped through the doorway. Your eyes scanned the apothecary noting that it was a rather small place. A few people examined the various items on the shelves while a couple of others stood by the window beside you. It was a mess, you thought as you caught your breath. 

In front of you, stood a tall slender man behind the small counter. He paid you no mind as his eyes narrowed at the glowing yellow tile in the center of the counter, his hands tinkering with some broken parts that illuminated in the small light. You thought he was peculiar, the way he watched his work so intensely. 

“In there,” you heard the same voices from earlier shouting from the other side of the window, “check in there.” 

You were out of time to make a getaway, and in this small space, you didn’t have many hiding options. Taking in the lack of hiding spots, you ran towards the apothecary's owner, jumping and sliding behind the counter, his scraps falling in all directions with various clinking sounds. 

The man looked down at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression while you made yourself as small as you could, bringing your knees to your chest and pressing your back to the counter, your shoulders hunched over. Panic was setting in. “Hello,” he said lightly, clinging the two metal bottles in his hands together. If you weren’t so scared, you would have thought he was handsome this close up. Cheekbones carved especially by the Maker and disheveled black hair that covered his dark brown eyes. He was beautiful and in desperate need of a good shower. His loose but tattered green and brown clothes made him fit in with the rest of the place, a little dirty and run down.

“There are men trying to kill me out there. Please don’t let them find me!” you pleaded with him, skipping the pleasantries. He just stared at you blankly, and you assumed he already made up his mind. This was the way that the galaxy worked, you were too sheltered on your home planet and then sent to Coruscant where it was no better in the Senate. Things weren't perfect, people were not good like Jedi Masters told you they were.

He smirked playfully down at you, “Was that a pickup line?” he asked with a chuckle. Your face fell, lips falling to an annoyed grimace. 

“Maker,” you cursed, accepting your fate The door was suddenly ripped from its hinges, the earth-shattering thunk caught everyone's attention. You jumped, clasping your hands over your mouth to muffle any kind of fearful cry. 

The man looked at you and then back to the two burly men who barreled into his apothecary. They strolled up to the bar with confidence, the owner's eyes fixated on them. “Hello!” he greeted with the same light tone, “how can I help you?” 

The taller of the two bounty hunters leaned on the bar, his eyes narrowed. “We’re looking for a Senator,” he informed plainly, “Got a high price on that pretty head— we could cut you in for any relevant information.” The man pulled a hologram from his pocket and placed it on the table, turning it on. The owner looked at your official portrait that was slowly rotating in front of him and narrowed his eyes, he was taking it all in. He probably thought you looked more put together in the photo than you do now. Dirt covering your cheeks, strands of hair stuck to your sweaty forehead. 

He chuckled, “You sound a little desperate if you’re offering a cut to someone like me.” 

You looked up at him worriedly, you could see how his jaw clenched but his body remained light at his tone of voice. Your heart pounded against your chest, the men were about to offer a large sum and the owner was about to take it, you were sure of it. 

The bounty hunter snarled, but the other man stood still and held his ground. “I should have your head for that.” 

The man put his hands on the counter and nonchalantly turned off the hologram. His face was stone, unreadable as he continued to make eye contact with the bounty hunter. They stared at each other in silence, the background noise of the apothecary began to get increasingly louder in your ears. It was almost deafening, the clanking of jars and whirling of mechanical tools screamed at you. You moved your hands from your lips and slid them up towards your ears. 

But you stopped when the bounty hunters began to speak lifelessly, almost as if he was in a trance

“There is no Senator here, we will leave,” the bounty hunters spoke in unison, reaching into their pockets and retrieving two brown sacks of credits. The owner smiled as they placed it on the counter and exited without another word. 

You waited until you heard their footsteps fade to cautiously rise from the floor, your eyes frantically scanning the room to make sure it was safe. “They left,” you breathed as if it was the first time. 

“See,” he beamed, “Not so bad.” He took the two sacks in one hand, and your shaky one in the other. Your eyes met as he put the bags in your hand, “This should probably be enough to get you started if you choose to stay.” 

He let go and made his way to the back entrance, leaving you there staring at the bags in pure shock, “Thank you-,” you whispered before swiftly following him to the back alley. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn't know his name, he saved your life and you didn’t even ask. 

“Qimir!” he called back as if he knew what you were thinking. Strange.

You followed close behind him, but once you started to think, your steps became slower and separated the two of you. How was he able to change their minds so quickly, they were dead set on killing you. They were bounty hunters, the most relentless creatures in the galaxy. 

You paused, clenching the two bags in your hands tighter. “How’d you get them to leave like that?” You asked sternly, the Senator in you coming out. “Are you—” you paused. You had only seen methods like that from a select few, “—Jedi?” 

He stopped, blood running cold in his veins. You saw how his body tensed up then he stood up straight, pushing back his greasy hair, the strands falling perfectly into place. Qimir slowly turned to you and everything abruptly seemed off. His face was no longer filled with meek eagerness, he was secure and held himself with such poise. A whole shift in personality you noted. He slowly strode over, his eyes darkening as he moved. His whole presence felt dark. 

A chill ran down your spine as he approached you. Was he about to kill you? 

“Quite the opposite, Senator,” he spoke lowly with a slight rasp to his tone, his head tilting to the side, looking up at you. Another chill went through you. 

 His face was so close you could see every freckle on his face, every shade of brown in his eyes. 

You heard the stories of those who practiced the ways of the Force outside the Jedi Order, they had a name but you couldn’t recall what it was. The Council didn’t like to talk about them, another senator you became acquainted with once said they didn’t mention it purposely for it would “dampen the era of peace in the galaxy.”  You were too busy staring at the man in front of you, unsure if you wanted to run or kiss him, “N-not a Senator,” you swallowed, you couldn't call yourself that any longer. 

“‘I’ll make you a deal.” You nodded. “Tell no one of what happened here,” and I’ll spare your life, “and anything in the apothecary is yours for free.”

You smirked, “Deal,” you said, taking a step back and holding out your hand, “Thank you again, Qimir.”  Qimir nodded and shook your hand, his skin tingling at the sensation of your hand in his. Was this desire? He pulled away and began to walk back towards the apothecary, before he reached the door he looked at you with a smirk on his chiseled face, “You’re quite welcome, Senator. I hope to see you soon.”

[emma-needs-attention]

I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.

And it makes me feel terrible.

I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.

And it made me feel terrible.

I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.

If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?

I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.

I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?

But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?

I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?

As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.

But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.

I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.

For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?

I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.

Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.

Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.

I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.

[johnbrand]

Mists

It had been a lot easier for Miles to get into the groove of the gym than he had anticipated. When he had first entered, the recently-graduated meek college graduate had originally planned only utilizing the treadmills. Miles wanted to stay fit while he applied for new jobs, and nothing more than that.

“Hey shrimp, over here!”

Miles immediately went red, pivoting towards the bellowing voice. A shirtless jock was waving him over to a small booth near the front. Trying his best to stay calm, Miles approached, the hulking figure of the other party looming over his skinny frame as he drew closer.

“I assume you’re new here?” the jock grunted.

“How could you tell?” Miles replied.

“It’s Shirtless Saturday bro!” the jock chuckled. “Mandatory requirement of the gym, should’ve been in your membership details. Helps encourage self-positivity or whatever.”

Miles took a quick scan around the gym to confirm, taking in all the shirtless, muscular, sweaty bodies. To his further embarrassment, he found a certain part of his midsection perking up a bit in response. Miles could not believe there were so many hot guys in one space.

“Uh…ok…” Miles mumbled, slowly removing his top article. The jock snatched it from him once he was finished, placing it in a waste bin behind the booth.

Before Miles could complain, the jock stopped him. “Trust me, most dudes go shirtless every day here. Our gym mists the place every five to ten minutes, like produce at a grocery store. Keeps everyone cool and fresh.”

As if on cue, a spray of mist rained down from the ceilings, trickling onto each one of the shirtless men at the gym. A coating fell onto Miles, absorbing into his hairless, near-translucent skin. Figuring it was time to move on, Miles nodded and left the station. Although instead of finding himself at the treadmill, his feet led him towards a workout bench. He did not even realize his mistake until the soft buzz of another coat of mist fell onto his body.

Rubbing his head with a meatier palm, Miles took in his surroundings, trying to make sense of the situation. Once again he found himself boning up as he took in all the attractive men working out. Believing he had regained a sense of direction, Miles got up from the bench, placing his weights aside before once again moving across the floor. However, his body sat him down at a machine, a leg pump to be specific. Miles did not notice this until another wave of mist rained down. He also did not notice the muscular definition that expanded from his calves, quads, and buttocks.

The pattern continued slowly, all without Miles’ intention or attention. The jock from the booth followed along, bemused as with each spray Miles shifted from one machine to the next, his frame piling on pound after pound of muscle. After a while, the constant misting began to affect more than just Miles’ figure. One coating helped calm the poor boy’s nerves, granting him the confidence to swagger rather than scurry across the gym floor. Another vocalized this transition, literally, with Miles grunting and groaning with each exertion like every other lunk.

The jock could almost predict each wave that followed. The masculinized features, the carpet of hair, the constant rearranging of a larger, yet dormant package. The jock had noticed Miles’ excited pecker right away, knowing his fagginess would eventually be washed away. Yet that conversion was the only wave he could not predict: did it come after the spray of manly conformity or the vapor of fraternal commitment?

In the end, it did not matter. Once a person walked into the building, they became a permanent member of the gym. The jock had been serious when he stated the gym’s mists kept everyone “cool and fresh”. Miles just did not realize that the gym’s definition of “cool” meant a stereotypically masculine, arrogant, heterosexual perspective; and “fresh” reflected a more casual discretion.

A final layer of mist hailed down from above, programming Miles to carry on to the chest press. Unlike the previous coats however, this one stayed on the surface, as no more could be absorbed. It now remained as sweat on the undeniably straight man’s skin, reproducing before dropping back into the floor. From there, it was absorbed and then processed back up into the sprinklers above. A water cycle of pure, heterosexual testosterone. 

But Miles did not know this, nor would he ever. His past self was forgotten history, now nothing more than just another straight bro.

[transfaguette]

this might be insensitive but I really envy transmascs as a transfem, it seems so easy for transmascs to pass since the effects of testosterone are permanent for transfemmes and it sucks how my voice will be deep forever and i feel so ugly

the thing is, the effects of estrogen are permanent for us, too. i will always have boobs unless i get them surgically removed. i will always be 5’3. I will always have wide hips. etc. these are the things that make *me* feel ugly, and like I will forever be seen as a freak. it is absolutely not easier for trans men to pass, i literally have facial hair and I do not pass. people who have been on testosterone for years sometimes don’t pass. but heres the thing that is true for the both of us: we can and will find happiness, love and acceptance. And, we can both do things, including HRT, to transform our bodies into something we love. if it really seems that much easier on our side, im sorry to say you just dont know that many people on testosterone. its as simple as that. So please, focus on what you can do to make yourself happier, I know trans women who have transitioned so gracefully, it isnt an impossibility in the slightest. I know you are hurting, but it is possible.

[osamucide]

⊹ LOOKIN’ FOR THE ONE THAT WANTS TO MAKE MY NAME A TATTY!

cw: multifandom (bsd+jjk), suggestive, name tattoos!!! all around questionable? feral and whipped and lovesick and possessive and stupid stupid hot men

reid: down bad for this concept and these mfers anyways stream aggy by coco and clair clair

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Who would get your name tattooed on them?

This SCREAMS GOJO. He’s so shameless—he’d get your name tattooed on his asscheek if you asked. He’d let you do it. He’d let it be Comic Sans for the meme. Not because he doesn’t take you seriously—quite the opposite, actually! His six eyes know he won’t ever regret this—he loves you so much and there’s hardly anything in the world he wouldn’t do to put a smile on your face even if it’s dumb. But really, tell him to be for real—suggest along his bicep in a pretty script font and consider it done <3

SUKUNA’S probably going to do this under one condition—he gets to mark you as his too, and this does not necessarily mean you also get a tattoo. But let’s say you do! I think he wants yours between your tits on your sternum running vertical, and he’ll probably get his in the exact same place—exact same font, exact same color. . .there, or down his spine, or if he’s feeling especially soft the day of the appointment, across his Achilles tendon, for obvious reasons—don’t make him say it.

If this screams anyone else on this list, it’s TOJI. He won’t even hesitate; he’s not exactly the most responsible guy around, but you like him, and he thinks you’re perfect—why the hell shouldn’t he have your name wrapped around his upper arm like a cuff, especially if it means your eyes light up and you flash him that gorgeous smile? Just don’t be too surprised when you find his baby mother’s name haphazardly covered up/half removed somewhere else on him.

I can see NANAMI doing this a few years into marriage, maybe, but doing it nonetheless. Look at him—he’s the dictionary definition of a keeper, and this is hardly any different to him than never taking off his wedding ring (and believe me, once you’ve got him on lock I mean he never takes it off). Matching ones would be especially alluring to him—you’re his one and only, and he hardly gives a thin and subtle sans-serif tattoo of your name on his upper thigh a second thought. What’s more is he’s enamored with kissing the spot where you get his name <3

This may or may not be me pushing my tattooed CHUUYA agenda but whatever. I think he’d be SO down for this. He’d probably make a little date out of it—drive you to the nicest tattoo shop in Yokohama under the guise of wanting to pay for whatever piece you want on yourself—tattoo or piercing—and sit patiently while you get it done, and then ‘decide last-minute’ that he’ll get one too, what the hell, and tell you not to look until it’s finished. Some elegant, masculine script font behind his ear that’s visible when he pulls his hair back <3

TACHIHARA is so grounded in what he loves. I’m 100% willing to bet he has a tattoo for his brother. Your name, too, tattooed on the outside of his shoulder, is like a badge of honor to him—everything he does, he does with you in mind. His only regret is how every uniform he wears covers it; he truly would’ve gotten it on his neck just above his shirt collar or on the back of his hand if it wouldn’t make him so easily identifiable. I can see him liking a traditional calligraphy font—only the prettiest for the love of his life <3

Funny how the man who knows nothing he desires can be permanent gets your name tatted on him. I think the prospect of having your name in his skin forever is just so hot, so romantic to DAZAI—there’s poetry in it however your relationship ends up unfolding. He knows he’s in love with you. In some way or another, no matter how he might end up driving you away, regardless of if you end up hating him for the monster he really is, even if you end up dying hand in hand like he hopes for, you’ll always own a piece of his heart and it’s evident in the pretty serif font he got buzzed across his hipbone <3

I include NIKOLAI in every one of my unhinged headcanons but I just can’t see him being anything less than ENTHUSIASTIC TO BOOT in a relationship. He is all in! You put up with his crazy, you drive away his sadness, you hold him so sweetly—the way you love him truly makes him feel on top of the world. And in true Nikolai fashion, I think he has your name in a font of your choice tatted right over his heart. Kiss it, bite it, trace it, lick it—he loves letting you know he’s all yours <3