#rendering is SO HARD GOOD LORD.

[flakettie]

tried to draw close to canon!! kind of.

[heartorbit]

i'm sending this endless melody to a nameless you

[wolfsplosion]

Phobos.exe

[lunarrolls]

taliesin specified that ashton’s hair is short when introducing them so naturally upon rewatching it i was like what if ashton’s hair Long

[thisblogisaboutabook]

The cycle of life

Azriel x Reader

Fae cycles suck, thank the mother for your attentive mate who is there to provide you with all of the smut and fluff you desire.

warnings: smut, language, self-esteem and body image struggles, anxiety, slight breeding kink

She didn’t know when the self-loathing crept in - although it was always the first sign. The week had been busy, she’d poured herself into her work. Being a bookkeeper for such a wealthy court was… tiring to say the least. It was fulfilling work, especially when it came to the Court of Dreams. Balancing ledgers and creating budgets for various charitable endeavors was a duty she was proud to take part in. The High Lord and Lady’s efforts in keeping their court thriving was admirable. Most would find the work mundane, and she supposed it could be, but accounting always felt like a puzzle to her - using her brain to solve problems and contribute to the advancement of the Night Court was rewarding.

She wasn’t perfect though, despite that desperate desire within herself to be. She’d push, and push, and push herself completely overlooking all the good she did and absolutely berating herself internally when the occasional mistake occurred.

Azriel was her number one supporter. She’d always imagined him to be better suited for the likes of a fellow warrior such as Mor or a Valkyrie like Gwyn. Perhaps even someone soft and lovely like Elain, a glowing beacon to come home to. Y/N had told Azriel as much when he began pursuing her.

“Why me?” She’d wonder to herself as she assessed her figure in the mirror - overlooking the enticing feminine curves that all but screamed “squeeze me, grip me, take me”, the way her plush lips bowed into a perfectly kissable pout, how her radiant skin that nearly glowed rendered her ethereal. She only saw imperfections. Not to mention that she wasn’t graceful or stealthy, she couldn’t cook or keep plants alive to save her damned life, and she had a tendency to get stuck inside her mind.

Truthfully this week was more than busy, it was hard. She’d pushed herself to meet deadlines that she’d gotten behind on due to an influx in workload. She’d made a few mistakes that nobody had issue with - except herself. Nuala and Cerridwen were taking well-deserved time off, leaving the essential household tasks on the back burner. Between working endless hours, Azriel being gone on a mission, and a flare up of the anxiety that she’d put so much effort into working through over the years - she was exhausted.

Physically her muscles ached, stomach cramped, and her head pounded as the all-too-familiar symptoms of her impending semi-annual cycle took root. Her mind and spirit were utterly fatigued from the busy week, the flare up of anxiety, and the overall stress of life. She was desperate for Azriel to return from his mission soon.

It was around 9PM when she coerced herself into wrapping up work on Friday night, she spent three hours afterward tending to the house and catching up on neglected tasks from the week, too tired to even bathe as she crawled into bed - sleep claiming her immediately.

She awoke the next day to a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hello beautiful.” Azriel whispered against her skin, pulling back to allow those intense hazel eyes a chance to examine her. Her eyelids fluttered and brows furrowed as she let out an exhausted groan, “baby…” a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she reached toward him in a needy manner that made his heart ache. He hated leaving her for missions though she always understood and supported him. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around her body, letting his warmth seep into her bones as she melted into his embrace.

Azriel noticed the flinch she made as the sun shone through the window into their room, quickly flaring his wings to block it from view until her eyes adjusted. “What’s wrong, love?” He whispered, though he already had an idea. The heat of his breath against her ear sent chills through her, prompting her to give a quick nip to his neck before kissing it.

Gods, she’d missed him.

“Nothing baby.” before he could call her on her lie she continued, “what time is it?”

“Well, you missed breakfast.” He smirked.

“Ugh… how did I sleep in so late?” She sat up, rubbing her tired eyes.

Azriel shrugged “Your body must have needed it.”

“Says you.” She scoffed. “You were off all week doing physically demanding work and busting your ass for this court… while I sat on mine balancing ledgers.”

“Y/N…” he spoke, his low voice barely more than a warning growl. “We’re not going to do that. You are allowed to feel tired, allowed to let your body rest. Your work is important.”

She sighed, knowing better than to press on. She knew to pick her battles and that this one was not one she would win.

“Fine.” Y/N shrugged, eyeing a paper bag on the bedside table. “What did you bring me? Please tell me it’s something with chocolate.”

Azriel’s lips curled up into a grin that she’d never tire of seeing, handing over the bag. “See for yourself, darling.”

———

Azriel knew from the moment he stepped into the quiet house that she’d need extra love and attention today. His loving, caring, selfless mate who typically rose early - he swore the sun rose on her accord and not the other way around - was still sound asleep in bed.

He immediately exited the house before she could sense his presence and stopped by her favorite bakery along the Sidra. Chocolate croissants were a necessity in times like these. She’d need a pain relieving tonic, epsom salts and soothing oils, and a bouquet of flowers couldn’t hurt either.

He went ahead and picked up ingredients for a few quick meals and a new book she’d mentioned recently as well.

He had to laugh at the irony. His mate often questioned her worthiness of him. HIM. She couldn’t see what he saw. A passionate, intelligent female who cared for her mate, her court, and family more than anything. Always putting her own needs last but the first to volunteer when help was needed. The cauldron truly found his equal - someone who gave and gave but it was never enough. Someone who couldn’t see her own worth, her pure heart, her devastating beauty - while the rest of the world marveled at it.

She’d been the catalyst in his own self-acceptance. He’d spent centuries believing he wasn’t enough, that he was unworthy of a mate, of his position, of the power he was born with - just to meet this intelligent, radiant being who could bring an entire room to a halt and assume they were only seeing flaws. Not the beauty that could make even kings fall to their knees if she’d only ask. When the bond snapped, he decided then and there that he would show her just how worthy she was. In the decade they’d been mated, she finally started to see her worth, how precious she was to him, to those she graced with her presence. But life is complicated and triggers are inevitable, especially when it came to the flare of hormones that accompanied an impending cycle.

—————

The chocolate croissants were a win if the drawn-out contented sigh Y/N let out upon finishing her third one was any indication. He’d shared details of his mission as she indulged in the pastries and she gave him a few details of her week - frowning as she went into detail about the “mistakes” she’d made.

They were common mistakes that anyone would make, truthfully, some weren’t even her fault, but he listened as she let it out. He’d learned over the years that sometimes she just needed to get it off her chest and not advice. Simply hearing each other out had become a key element in the foundation of their relationship - when thoughts became too much - they were always listening ears for each other.

Once she’d gotten it off her chest she changed the subject by asking, “What do you want to do today?”

Azriel had a lot to do - but his mate took priority this weekend. He gave her a wicked grin, “I want nothing more than to waste away in this bed with you all day.”

“But?” She replied.

“But nothing.” He flicked her nose. “I want to spend the day in bed with my mate - is there something wrong with that?”

Azriel could see the war in her mind. Debating whether she deserved to take a day off, or should tend to other tasks. Before she could object he leaned in, lips capturing hers in a deep, loving kiss. She immediately opened for him, his tongue lazily tangling with hers. “Fine” she murmured.

“That’s my girl.” He cooed before returning to claiming her mouth, the shell of her ears, her neck.

“Mmm” she purred into his kiss while he palmed at her breast through her silken cobalt night gown. Her swollen breasts immediately peaking beneath his touch.

“So responsive” his low voice growled into her neck, sending fire straight through her, igniting her core. “Is that beautiful pussy as ready for me as these are?” He asked, tweaking a nipple through her gown.

The responding moan told him more than enough as he hitched the hem of her nightgown up to her waist, exposing the dripping cunt practically begging for him underneath. His eyes rolled back at the intoxicating scent of arousal drifting up into his nose. “Holy shit, Y/N.” he groaned, clearly pleased with the sight.

He ran a finger through her slick core, adding a teasingly light amount of pressure to her clit but before he could insert a finger she moaned “No Az, I can’t wait. Please.”

“You don’t want my fingers?” He teased, slipping one inside of her. Mother, she was absolutely soaked.

“Az…Fuck. No. Please.” She pleaded. Reaching down to palm the hardened length beneath his sweatpants. “I need that inside of me. Now”

Typically he would reprimand her for being so demanding, robbing him of his playtime with her sweet, dripping sex. But the desperation in her voice left him desperate to oblige her.

“Since you asked nicely.” He replied, to which she frantically helped him out of his pants.

Before she could reconsider taking more fingers, he thrusted his length into her. Hard. Every thick, aching inch of him, stretching and filling her completely.

“Like that?” He asked as her moans filled the room.

“Yes. Yes, Az.”

“Fuck.” She cried out. “Just. Like. That.” Each word coming out individually timed to the thrusts of his cock.

There was no way he was going to last long at this pace, especially after being away for a week. “Not gonna last long like this. Fuck!” He ground out.

She grit her teeth as his thrusts became harder, more erratic. “Then fill me, Az. Need your cum.”

Slipping a hand between them, he pressed his thumb to her clit, moving it in that perfected motion he’d finessed over the years as he diligently studied her body, a scholar whose sole discipline laid in pleasuring his mate. Locking his eyes with her, he gently commanded “Cum with me baby.”

With that they both let go. Their releases filling the room like a song. A melody Azriel would never tire of, one he replayed in his mind somehow far too often, yet never enough during his time away.

Azriel stayed inside of her until their breaths settled, evening out into sync with eachother. He reveled in the warmth of her. His perfect mate - physically, emotionally, spiritually. He’d never take this for granted.

Finally he pulled out of her in one long sweep, she looked down to admire the still considerable length of him even when partially softened. Her stomach dropped to see blood mixed in with their combined releases.

“Az, oh, I’m so s-” She started but he cut her off.

“Baby. It’s just a little blood.”

She almost looked ashamed. “I know but- I’m embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” He puzzled. “It’s completely natural. Do you really think blood bothers me? Come on now beautiful, we’ve had sex during your cycle before. Why shy away now?”

“I just didn’t expect the bleeding to have started already. It explains why I’ve felt so lethargic, I suppose.”

Azriel went to get a warm cloth from the adjoined washroom, returning to wipe her. Her cheeks flushed at the intimate action.

“Stop overthinking it. Besides, we’re mates.” He smiled, a soft look overtaking his eyes. “If you still want to have children with me someday, your cycle is kind of an essential step of the process.”

Y/N flushed at the comment. The thought of carrying his babies was something she’d dreamed about for years now. Thank the gods for her distant Illyrian ancestry and the genes that blessed her with curvy hips capable of birthing winged babes.

“You know, with my cycle returning… we could always start trying? If we stopped taking our tonics now - it should be out of our system in time for ovulation. Rhys has offered recently to let me bring on an assistant book keeper, which would be excellent timing.”

Azriel’s heart fluttered at the thought of it. His mate round and glowing as she carried their baby, a babe that would know so much more love than he ever had as a child. Something so pure and beautiful that could come from the love between he and his mate. They’d talked about it for years now, a dream of theirs. He had to quickly blink away the silver lining his eyes at the gift she was offering him, his selfless mate in all her infinite love. There was no way he could verbally reply in the moment without choking up so he sent waves of adoration, joy, and gratitude down the bond.

She sent every bit of love right back to him, propping up on her elbows to capture his lips in a promising kiss.

———-

After they came to a decision, Azriel carried Y/N to the bathing room where a hot bath full of the oils and epsom salts he’d picked up that morning were waiting. She nearly cried at the relief of the welcoming heat that greeted her.

Before she could object, Azriel quickly stepped out to change the sheets, promptly returning to slide into the bath tub behind her. He washed her hair, massaging her scalp to which she nearly purred like a cat. He carefully washed her entire body massaging her back, thighs, calves, shoulders, and breasts in the process. By the time he was done tending to her, she’d nearly fallen asleep.

Ever the caretaker, she tried to wash him in return but he insisted that this was about her - passing her a rolled up towel to place behind her neck while she relaxed, letting the oils from the bath soak into her skin as he lathered himself. He got out first, toweling himself off before lifting her out of the tub and drying her off with a heated towel.

Though she insisted she could do it herself, Azriel wasn’t having it. This was his day to care for his mate so he helped her into cloth lined linens and selfishly left her topless, slipping her underneath the fresh blankets.

He assured her he’d be right back slipping out to the kitchen to heat up her favorite gnocchi soup and fetch a tray he’d prepared with her pain relieving tonic, bouquet of flowers, and more chocolate.

It didn’t take much to bring his mate joy - the genuine gratitude she’d send down the bond at even the smallest gestures was never lost on him. Perhaps it was self-serving but he couldn’t resist surprising her, coveting each warm smile she’d give him as if he’d never feel warmth again.

He prayed their future babes had her smile, her eyes, any of her features, truly. But most of all, her heart - maybe then, beating within the most precious gift the mother could offer them, she’d finally see just how beautiful she really was.

————

He had to beg and plead like a mad male but finally she agreed to spend the entire weekend in bed with him. Who knew that he, the one who was typically the workaholic, would be the one to grovel at his mates feet begging her to take a break.

Fortunately, she was not immune to his charms and obliged him. At one point, she snuck out of bed in an attempt to accomplish a few tasks around the house before her cramps humbled her. Azriel was promptly startled awake from the nap he’d drifted off to as she loudly exclaimed from down the hall, “Fuck it. Back to bed.”

They spent the rest of the weekend making love, whispering of their dreams for the future, indulging in sweets, and reveling in each others touch with no shortage of laughter and kissing in between.

——————————

A/n: So I’ve totally been under the weather this weekend with no motivation to write but as I laid in bed with my own partner tending to me with whatever I needed, I couldn’t resist writing this. I intended it to be a Drabble but the words just kept flowing. I stan fluffy Az. Anyway, thanks for reading!

For those of you waiting on new parts to my current fics - I promise they’re coming along and will be out soon! xo ♥️

[miupow]

okay but like cowboy tyun tying you up with his lasso rope 🫠 legs spread nicely 🫠 while he fucks you on his dick, riding him like his pretty little cowgirl 🫠

omg smiles... don't get me started on cowboy tyun

cw// lia falling into her slightly toxic husband tyun brainrot again (cowboy edition)

hardworking, thick buff cowboy tyun w big calloused hands good lord 🙏🙏 out in the sun all day, skin so pretty n tan, abs so cut >< only soft for his sweet lil housewifey who stays home n takes care of their farm while he's hard at work ^^ comes home to a kiss and dinner on the table, fills her pussy up w his cum every night <3 might just make her a mommy so he can have a perfect lil family to come home to <3

ouuu cowboy tyun tying u up... maybe you made him angry hehe, defied your husband's orders!! punishes u by rendering you almost completely immoble, just a toy for him to use <3 bounces you on his hard cock while u sob for more, so deep in ur tummy, his nails cutting crescents into ur plush hips, sometimes pulling his hands back to give you ass a slap >< so so so mean to his wifey :( cooing at her cries w faux sympathy,, aww, sugar, is it too much? too bad...

[lushaletta]

the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, swearing

summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.

a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!

read part one here!

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.

Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”

You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”

He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”

Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.

He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.

And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”

His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”

He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”

You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”

His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.

You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.

“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”

He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”

Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.

It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.

He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.

“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.

He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”

You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”

Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.

He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”

What a fucking tool.

The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.

You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.

“Riddle. Are you joking me?”

Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”

She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”

“That’s silly.”

“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”

“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.

“Well, no—“

“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.

Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.

“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”

You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.

Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.

So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.

And Tom always gets what he wants.

taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!

[oh-saints]

Hi I don’t know if you’ll get this but I have an idea for Rúben Dias, he starrs crushing on the female photographer for Man City and his teammates start teasing him, he doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks the photographer is dating someone ( but she’s actually single and is just introverted)

aaaaahh this feels close to home bcs i'd gotten mistaken so many times by men due to my introvert nature /sigh

silent

rúben should really stop interpreting things out of hand on his own and start asking the right questions instead.

rúben dias x photographer!you

wc: 2.7k

note: here's is my comback piece! (is that even a valid word?) i actually had this idea in mind for a while and i love writing this bcs i can see he could make this kind of cute mistake! this actually hits closer to home, too, considering that i'm an intovert as well LOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

happy new year too, everyone! i wish you'll have a blessed year ahead &lt;3

“cupcakes!”

you groaned inwardly, that must be jack grealish. only the 100-million man would call you with overly sweet pet names like that, and he did it so often no matter how many times you corrected him that you had a real name during the first month of your employment here. now entering your third month, you’ve long given up, but you’d renamed his contact to be jack greasy on your phone.

“come sit over with us!”

unlike your nickname, though, you hadn’t given up on his persistent request to sit amongst his set of friends because good lord could they be so boisterous their laughter sounded more like a boom in your ears sometimes. their energy simply went off the roof and your introvert self could never handle it well.

you’d have your time to photograph everyone in the bus later anyway, so you gave him a polite smile, without another word, and proceeded to sit down beside your fellow media team.

you could hear jack screaming protest “aw, come on, cupcakes!” as you took your seat. his friends were laughing on his face at your rejection.

if you have your way, though, you’d badly want to be assigned to the calmer tide of the bus. the likes of julian, kevin, bernardo were more suitable for your kind. but being the one responsible for the disposable camera and all of city’s short off-pitch videos, jack and his circus were more than a matchmade in heaven for a better result.

before you had more complaints to mull over, your colleagues turned to face you and started babbling about an upcoming short video the both of you would have to make. the plot, the script, down to deciding who’d be best to be asked for to star in the video.

“i think rúben dias would do just fine.”

being a newbie, you nodded along the names he mentioned because in all honesty, you didn’t exactly know who is who and which is which until now. two months splattered all over the men’s and the women’s team, as well as the academy, was pretty much a guarantee you’d missed out on someone.

but you always, no matter how busy you are, spared some time to browse on the player before you met them, in case it was someone you should be worried for, or someone you should be thankful of for their media-darling persona, or someone you should be working twice as hard because they didn’t know what to do. worse, someone you’d worked together before but you forgot.

for rúben dias, though… you didn’t know which one of the categories above fitted him best. you were rendered speechless at your search bar result. you could bet your entire month salary that he was someone you had yet the chance to create a content together because if he already did, you wouldn’t have that face of his wiped off your brain.

which was exactly why you should be worried.

you had never worked with someone that looks like adonis when he decides to ascend himself from olympus. or so you’d like to think rúben was what adonis would’ve looked like if greek mythology happens to be true.

sadly, nobody warned you that he was even more beautiful up close, as he strutted his way to your creator team, with a tousled hair he kept tussling against, as well as the bright smile and warm laugh he’d drop here as he went through pre-production brief. his voice was so melodic it soothed all the soreness to your eardrums—thanks to jack grealish—in one simple video production, and you mentally thought you could replay the edited video later whenever you needed to go to sleep, like an asmr or some sort, because it really felt like a blanket on a rainy day.

your heart ached at the sight because my goodness… he was simply too beautiful for your own good.

it shouldn’t be doing all that jumping and leaping and drumming, though, because those were the early signs of you getting biased.

and it could only mean one thing in every professional language possible: bad.

with your very generous pay check on the line, you couldn’t afford to fail. so that day, you made a promise to yourself to do what you had to do, and thankfully it was what your introvert self do best.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while you knew what to do, rúben—on the contrary—seemed lost.

no, the portugese was lost.

contrary to popular belief, footballers are actually smart. at least, if they are not book smart, they’re definitely street smart. rúben would like to think he’s got a bit of both worlds, so it could justify his own judgement of you.

his eyes were keen, as his job required him to do so, and he’s got an incredible sensing, enough to read a gigantic elephant in the room when there was one. the combination scanned your change in attitude on the day he first worked with you and the present time.

you were so friendly and eager to work with him, welcoming his extended hand as he introduced himself to you for the first time. he remembered your smile, blinding against the bleak manchester weather but instead of feeling cold, he only felt warmth and fuzzy all over his body.

but as the filming session went on, your smile was close to non-existent, just like the probability of the two of you running into each other again. he initially thought it was only because you got so many takes already and the job exhausted you, but he later realised you were avoiding him. as subtle as you could anyway.

at the beginning, he only thought you missed the way he waved at you. or the time when he thought you put his row of seat last for a mandatory picture in your disposable camera, for aesthetics’ sake.

the time when he offered you a ride home, though—that was the final confirmation. the weather had started snowing on some days, and you were certainly freezing by the look of your shivering shoulders and teetering teeth, so rúben offered you a ride home. but you turned down the offer, ever so politely like usual. yes, yes of course you had the rights but the most logical thing was to accept them instead of waiting for the next bus, no?

(oh, believe him, he knew she was waiting. he managed to parked far away from your sight but close enough to see that you did indeed wait for the next bus to arrive and take you to the nearest station. he knew, and he remembered that day because it was the only day he had to fight himself from running down the street just to give you another layer of coat.)

his first instinct was to think that he’d wronged you somehow during the filming. was he demanding? was he not up to your par of filming standard? was he not good enough for your cameras?

but james, your fellow co-worker, the one who worked together with you for this project, gave him an utterly confused look. “have you seen how the videos turned out? you were brilliant, rúben. and no, i don’t think i’ve heard any concerns from her about your ethics.”

so what did he still not do right that could’ve upset you?

rúben didn’t like where this was going because you’ve kept him intrigued. you kept him on his toes, bouncing lightly like a child full of curiosity. you kept him thirsty for more information about you and what makes you tick, lowkey in hope to bring out the smile rúben himself didn’t know he had missed seeing.

and if he discovered that he did indeed upset you somehow, and was somehow responsible for the disappearance of your shy smile, then he’d like to right them right away. he has to.

with that mentality, rúben took the chance to clock out earlier—which was like the seventh wonder of the world around etihad academy—in order to catch a glimpse of you on your off-work routine. he’d set himself resolved to only ask necessary questions, not more nor less, without any hidden agenda. no wishy washy, unlike his previous trials.

rúben did actually catch you for a split second. his beak was already opening, he’d only needed his voice box to produce the sound to the question in his mind, but the scene unravelled before him halted everything in him. every particle of his body, every molecule of his brain.

a black car swerved into the lane to the lobby, a pretty prestigious car at that, and the way your face lit up so brightly reminded him of the day you first worked together. it was a sight that rúben missed, it was a sight that rúben longed to see again.

he was so blinded by the ethereal view that he completely forgot his own plan, and watched as the black car swallowed his portion of small happiness of the day.

was that your boyfriend? if yes, then did you take rúben’s friendliness as a romantical advance to you? if yes, then was that the reason why you immediately put up a china wall between you two? if yes, then was he that protective or was he simply possessive?

rúben couldn’t deny his own infatuation of you. maybe it was why he was adamant to right things good between the two of you. but if you did in fact have a boyfriend, then he should find a way to reduce and silence this growing feeling—be it really infatuation or merely curiosity.

“does she have a boyfriend?”

but desperate times need desperate measures, and rúben saw ‘the black car incident’ was his sign to speed things up in order to find a concrete answer. even if it included asking jack grealish about you.

jack snorted, rather snobby. “how would i know, mate?”

“i thought you guys are close.”

“your definition of close is concerning,” jack replied as he shut his locker. “why don’t you ask her yourself? aren’t you the type to just charge at it first, think later?”

“i would’ve if she didn’t give me a cold shoulder.”

“have you tried?”

rúben was the one who didn’t hold back his snort this time. “of course i did.”

“then maybe you were asking the wrong question, mate.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

as much as rúben hated to confess that jack actually had a point, he had to give hands down. he might be asking the wrong question, he might be asking too much question, he might be asking the right question with the wrong approach.

bottom line, he’d concluded himself that he had to try until he succeeded. each time in different approach, different variables. logically speaking, it should take him somewhere for a clue. if it didn’t, it should at least tire you enough to have you spell the answer to his queries.

rúben had gathered enough information that you and your team had wrapped up filming for christmas and new year’s content, complete with kids involved and all. you were supposed to stay in the editing room, and working late on it because there was a teaser—which fell into your line of work under “short videos”—to be uploaded tomorrow evening.

he purposefully slowed his pace for anything that did not require physical activities and trainings, resulting in him also staying late to finish some of his homework—his affectionate nickname for video trainings he’d like to execute at home, in the comfort of his abode and plush suede pillows—so he could match your pace of work. he planned to catch you off guard the same way as ‘the black car’ incident.

at 8, you finally went out of your cave, precisely like his little rat had informed him before. so of course, you were startled to find rúben already standing against the railing in front of your office.

“rúben,” your voice got stuck in your throat but rúben thought it was a cute squeak. it was also a better response, rúben thought, too. you could’ve spat at him or shooed him away immediately. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m—” rúben thought about lying for a second, but he decided it’d contribute nothing to a start of a friendship. yes, friendship, because it was the bare minimum, no? “i’m waiting for you.”

your eyes widened, and that was when rúben noticed the golden specks on the orbs of your eyes. heartbreakingly stunning, solely because rúben only noticed this now.

you shifted the weight of your body from your right leg to your left one, and rúben found it endearing because he noticed that was an early sign an introvert—you, in this case—was starting to get nervous or uncomfortable. rúben hoped it was the former because that’d put you as cute as an awkward lone penguin.

“is there anything i can help you with?”

“yes, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

with his devastatingly beautiful look, his velvet voice and his intensely deep brown eyes, your heart palpitated so fast and so irregular that you were afraid rúben could see them falling and getting back into its designated place like a bungee jumper.

or maybe the rope snapped on its way down and never found its way up again, depending on the question about to be fired at you. at this point, your mind went funnily white, and you were ready to succumb into either pressure or temptation, depending on the question he’d fire you with.

“do you hate me?”

you seemed perplexed at his blatant question, but he’d take that reaction over anything else because it was something, especially compared to the invisible wall you’d put up since the first time you both had worked together.

“do you?” rúben pressed his voice gently, while he took a step closer to you. slowly but assertively.

the movement snapped you back to reality. you should not heed into pressure, but there was no use in lying because in reality, you really had no reason to hate him. if you had your chance, you would’ve done things the other way around.

“no, i don’t.”

another step closer. “but have you ever hated me?”

realising the 6-feet centre back was doing, you involuntarily moved backwards in the same amount of steps that he did, albeit the distance reached was certainly and significantly a huge gap you could never keep. “no, rúben—”

before you could finish your sentence, he obliterated every single space left in between the two of you and cornered you to the nearest wall. “then do you like me?”

you should be running, you should be fleeing, you should be screaming down the hill. you should be anywhere but here, trapped in between the long, strong and sturdy pair of his arms, the very same one he used to defend himself and the ball from the opponent. the very same one your eyes couldn’t lie but appreciate its masculinity.

rúben noticed the miniscule movement of your eyes, despite your tightened body language, and it brought a little smile on the corner of his lips. maybe he had indeed asked all the wrong question in all the previous times he’d had the chance.

“tell me,” rúben then pronounced your name in the way no one else could, so soft and velvet like a fine cashmere being caressed against your eardrums, that shivers ran down your entire body as if you were struck by a lightning. “please tell me that, at least.”

so paradoxic, you thought inwardly at the sensation. and you supposedly hated the way he confused you, but you didn’t this time—you didn’t even detest the way he seemed enjoying this whole thing, by the way he pulled of a subtle smirk that busted your knees slowly but surely—and it made you even more crazy because what the hell was this?

you tried to mask it off by looking him straight in the eyes. well, tried to, at least, because the moment your eyes were connected with the milkiest brown orbs that reminded you of a hot chocolate on a wintry day, you couldn’t help but look away. “what do you want me to say?”

rúben didn’t fight a full smile from blooming on his face, as the tip of his finger aligned your face gently to face his. he really likes the fact you gave him a fair fight to remain indifferent still, even when everything else of your body failed to be your auxiliary. “do you like me?”

“i do—”

“then would you like to have a dinner with me tonight?”

[cheollipop]

Hello there! I wanted to pop in and say I’m so glad you’ve hit such a big milestone!! I honestly adore your works! Your writing style and characterization always has me begging for more!! And don’t get me started on your smut good lord 🫠

As for the slumber party.. *squeezes pillow* what do you think about dom!san and sub!reader and woo? I would honestly love to be brat tamed by San, have you seen the looks he gives Woo?? Especially him in Guerrilla era?? If he gave me that look I would be GONE. But it’s been making me think about him taking me from behind, with that signature neck hold of his as he ruins me into the mattress, Wooyoung needy and whining on the side waiting for his turn. 🫠🫠

Anyway I have shared my thoughts for this party, I can’t wait to see what others have to say as well!! (omg that somnophilia one had me sitting there crossing my legs. rip to those panties 🫡 😔)

Have a good day, Panda!! ❤️

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

anonnie you are so cute pls 😭 squeezing your pillow while spitting straight filth bahahha. thank you so much!! this seriously means so much to me TT with woosan, I tend to write them with a dynamic opposite to the one you'd described, so I found myself in a pickle trying to write this one;; however, I'm in an insane san mood this week, so I made it work (?) somehow (?), it is a lot shorter then I would have wanted it to be though :" I really hope you enjoy this nonetheless!! (and I'm so happy you liked the somno one, it's one of my favourites too~)- don't be a stranger, and happy reading!! (≧◡≦)

pairing: choi san x fem!reader x jung wooyoung

w.c.: 0.5k

tags: smut, dom!san, sub!woo & reader, san's kinda mean *bites lip*, unprotected sex (👎), creampie(s), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, edging, mentioned double penetration

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

Wooyoung squirmed on the mattress, back flush against the headboard while his fingers twitched by his hips. Despite the overwhelming need to relieve himself, to wrap his fingers around his throbbing cock—the tip an angry red as it stood upright, leaking translucent drops of arousal down the veiny shaft—his attention remained on the two figures moving to a steady rhythm beside him.

The hand at your nape pushed you further into the pillow, shallowly breathing as the pleasure soaring through your body took over all five senses. San’s lips brushed against your temple, sharp grunts reverberating in your ear while he pumped his cock inside your spent cunt, oozing a mixture of slick and cum until it formed a pool over the linen beneath you. His other hand held your hips up, guiding them back to meet his relentless thrusts, making sure your walls would forever be moulded to his shape.

“San-ah, I ‘wanna touch her too,” Wooyoung mewled, eyes trained on your pussy as it repeatedly swallowed San’s girth. “C’mon, ‘can’t wait anymore.”

“No,” was all he responded with, not even sparing him a glance, slowing his pace as you shook under him once again—another orgasm drawing muffled moans out of your parted lips, and spreading drool on the pillowcase under your head.

Peering over at the man resting beside him, the sight of his cock bobbing uselessly against his lower belly, precum shimmering over tan skin under the overhead light, San felt himself grow harder as he waited for you to come down from your high. Wooyoung whimpered at San’s intense gaze—his quick glance rendering him unable to look away from the younger’s pathetic state—readjusting his position to angle his hips towards San, his cock now resting hard and heavy over his upper thigh.

Feline eyes glazed over as an idea popped into his head, straightening up behind you and shifting his gaze down to where your bodies met. San’s palm landed over your ass, watching your back arch further as he added yet another handprint onto the sensitive flesh, running soothing circles over it before slipping his hand between your legs. Running his fingers over the drenched slit, he rounded his base where his cock sat within your heat, dipping a thumb into the stretched hole and pulling it open even further, until it gaped and loosened around his length.

“San, wait—hnngh—please, I can’t-”

“–Yes you can,” San interrupted, moving the hand on your nape to the back of your head, pushing your face into the pillow until your words were no longer coherent. He slipped a few inches out, angling his cockhead to press directly into your g-spot, muffled sentences morphing into desperate groans. “Look,” he shifted his attention to the neglected man, spreading you even wider with his thumb while he grinded his cock into your used cunt. “What do you say, Youngie, do you think our pretty girl can fit the both of us?”

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Mc keeps the Dateables up at Night

Diavolo:

you wanted to stay up all night long, without him???

what a crime, he should throw you into the dungeons! just kidding but he does not appreciate that you wanted to stay up the entire night to play games with Leviathan

to make it up to him you should stay awake with him :)

you could do a lot of fun things in the Castle, tour the Gardens at night, listen to the screams of the Damned, running away from Barbatos because both of you should be asleep or sneaking some snacks into his room

if it wasn´t for the fact that Barbatos would kill you if he found out Diavolo didn´t sleep you would be up for it

but know you have to find a way to get him to sleep

Barbatos:

this man just doesn´t sleep, or maybe he just does but you never notice it

considering it´s Barbatos both could be a thing

while he didn´t appreciate your stupid little stunts as long as they didn´t wake Diavolo he doesn´t care what you do

and if your already awake you can help him with cleaning the Demon Lord´s Castle

by hand of course, no magic or anything allowed :)

maybe you should have thought twice before thinking about bothering Barbatos, the worat part was the torture chamber

man cleaning this alone was a form of torture

but Barbatos made you whatever you wanted as a payment so I guess it evens out

Solomon:

you put a pipe bomb into his cauldron, you were actually hoping the explosion would knock him out and render him unconscious, the only way you can get Solomon to sleep

but all you achieved was blowing up his cauldron

and he was even a bit proud of you for pulling this of without him noticing

but you did ruin his newest experiment without even thinking of how difficult it was to get them

good for him that he has such a capable apprentice who would love nothing more than help him :)

unless of course they want to experience the worst curses he has who won´t do them major bodily or mental harm :)

which means they get to experience the fun adventure of diving into the deepest ocean in the Devildom to gather scales of an incredibly hard to escape from predator, climb the highest mountain to gather feathers from a Human eating species of birds, getting a flesh eating plant which could easily burn your flesh of and many more wonderful (terrifying) things

Simeon:

you did something really simple

you pulled the fire alarm and watched him run out in panic

it was really funny until it wasn´t

turns out Simeon didn´t think it was so funny to wake him up so early

good for you he didn´t find the mega phone and air horn that you wanted to use when he fell asleep again

but yeah he did not appreciate you waking him and he appreciated it even less when he found out you wanted to keep him up just for fun

as punishment you weren´t allowed to come back to Purgatory Hall for one month

and of course you aren´t allowed to eat anything they made during the month (unless it was Solomon, then you have to be the sacrificial Sheep)

[targaryen-brainrot]

mine // aemond targaryen/f!reader

based on mean!aemond from @tinfairies blog

cw: mean aemond, implied assault (not from aemond), smut-ish, implied murder (lemme know if i missed sth)

Her husband is cold. That much she's used to. Aemond Targaryen doesn't show emotion unless it's anger or, though rarely, humour.

They've been married for months and that much hasn't changed. And yet she cannot complain.

Despite his rough exterior, and his cutting words, he's not awful. She's heard of much worse.

At least he cares for her in their marital bed and doesn't take his anger out on her in ways she knows other men are partial to.

Aemond might fuck her roughly and call her names all the while, but he always makes her see stars and cleans her up after, going as far as to kiss any bruises he might've left when he thinks her asleep.

It's the only time he's ever gentle.

She jumps when his hand settles in her hair.

"Why are you crying?"

Instead of answering she pulls her legs up against her chest, trying to take up as little space on their bed as possible. Then she buries her face in their pillows a little more. It stiffles the sounds of her sobs and she hopes it might be enough to appease him.

She's wrong.

His grip tightens on her hair and then he forcefully turns her head around so she has to look up at him.

Aemond's gaze makes her shiver. It's as cold as ever, with anger at her noncompliance creating a storm, but there's something she can't make out on his face as well.

"Answer me."

Aemond's voice leaves no room for argument but another onslaught of tears and sobs render her unable to speak.

To her surprise, he doesn't reprimand her for it, instead he leaves her alone on the bed for a moment and returns with a cup of water.

He helps her drink and waits for her breathing to normalise before he tells her again, "Speak."

Normally the need for him to repeat himself would mean she won't be able to sit for a week but she prays he'll be merciful for once.

"He- They all laugh at me."

She knows he doesn't like it when she avoids his gaze, but she can't look at Aemond while she tells him.

"They- the ladies, the maids, everyone- they call me names when you're not there. It's bearable, normally. But- he-"

She has to swallow around another sob and risks a quick look up at her husband's face. Fear strikes through her at the rage clearly written all over it.

"Today, Lord Bulwer, he stopped me when I was leaving the library and he- he repeated some of the usual things. That I wasn't good enough for you, that clearly you don't care for me, that I'm-" She stops to breathe before she continues, overgoing a repetition of the names they've called her. "I was trying to leave, but he-"

The words get tangled and stuck in her throat, she can't produce another sound.

"Did he touch you?"

His razor-sharp tone makes her flinch, and she merely nods.

"Did he-" His hand grips the fabric of her dress so tightly his knuckles turn white. "Did he rape you?" Now Aemond's seething.

She shakes her head and finds enough strength to say, "I managed to leave before he did much more than- than touch."

Aemond leaves without another word.

Later, after she cried herself to sleep and night fell, she's awoken by his mouth on hers.

Aemond devours her, holds down her arms, rips her nightshift and makes her cry from pleasure. He lets her hands pull on his hair when he gets tired of holding her down. His own hands pinch and grab her skin, her breasts and stomach and the thick of her thighs, no doubt bruising her.

He's leaving his mark.

Aemond's teeth sink into the sensitive skin over her collarbones until he draws blood and has her screaming.

All the while he talks.

"You're mine."

Another pinch, another bruise, another hard thrust.

"Let them hear how my whore of a wife screams for me. Let them know I take you with pleasure."

His teeth breaking the skin of her lips before his tongue laps it up.

"No one will touch you but me. He won't ever touch you again."

His hands craddling her face and sapphire and amethyst burning into her.

"You're mine."

Her hands pulling on his hair until he cries out lowly, while she comes undone.

"Keep something like this from me again and see how you like the outcome."

Her head on his chest while her breathing settles.

An accident, a broken neck after a tumble down some stairs. Scared faces and eyes that won't meet hers when she walks through court.

Her husband's hand on her, always, and his lips on her neck even when people can see. His eyes burning cold on anyone who looks at her too long.

No more whispers, no more name-calling, no more Lord Bulwer.

Aemond Targaryen is cold, and remains it, but his wife learns that a dragon will protect what is his with fire and blood.

[palioom]

day one - pegging/leather & latex

pairing: subby!maxwell lord x f!reader word count: 964 warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; pegging; butt plug; spanking; hint of degradation; praise kink; dom & sub

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

His eyes went wide when he saw her, dark eyes raking over the sleek, black material covering her body. His dick twitched, making her giggle as she looked back, waiting for him to finish taking in the latex covering her. 

A dark, tight dress, her breasts almost spilling over the low neckline, equally dark gloves which covered her arms all the way up to her elbows. The dark, nylon stockings covering her legs.

Just how he had imagined it. How he had wanted it, already rock hard at the thought of seeing her like this tonight, and feeling like he was about to just cum all over himself as he sat here, looking at her.

“Someone’s excited, Maxwell.” She giggled, coming closer to him. Practically towering over him in her heels while he sat on the bed, naked and waiting for her. “Like what you see, baby?”

He nodded. His mouth felt dry, this was something he had been thinking about for a damn long time, his fingers flexing where they laid on his thigh, as if he couldn’t tell whether he was allowed to touch her or not.

“Speak up, pretty boy, then you can touch.” She said with a grin. How she loved rendering him speechless, fulfilling these fantasies for him.

“I love it, dear.” Maxwell said, looking up at her again to make sure he had permission, then reaching out to touch the material of her dress after an affirmative nod from her. “You look stunning.”

Leaning forward, he kissed the exposed skin of her thigh with a soft groan, her gloved hand wandering into his hair with a smile.

“Thank you, Maxwell.” She could see him shiver as her covered nails raked over his scalp, needy and desperate. “Now get on the bed, on all fours.”

He did as told, obedient and excited, watching her go and grab her favourite harness, pulling up the bottom of her dress so she could step into it, securing the straps tightly. Attaching his favourite dildo, she grabbed the bottle of lube and walked over to him, soft smile on her face as she saw him willing and waiting, on hands and knees.

“You’re always such a good boy, Max.” She cooed, kneeling behind him, smiling as she saw the silver butt plug in his ass. Her hand smoothed over his ass, watching him shiver from the feeling of the latex on his skin, before she pressed against the toy gently. “And you came prepared, you’ve been excited about this, hm? Don’t wanna waste any time, baby?”

He shook his head, daring to glance at her over his shoulder. “No, love. I want you, please.”

Her hand landed on his ass in a sharp smack, making him whimper and hang his head again, his fingers curling into the sheets.

“You need me, Maxy.” She corrected him, beginning to slowly pull at the base of the small toy. Her strap was a little bigger than it, but it would work. “Because you’re a needy, little slut. Been worked up about this all day. All because you want your tight hole filled.”

He whimpered again, nodding. It felt good when she removed the plug, spreading his ass open for her to look at.

“Yes, ma’am. I need you.”

Throwing the plug to the side, she hummed, grabbing the bottle of lube.

“Yes, you do.” Generously coating the toy, she spread some around his asshole as well, lining up with him. “Now be a needy little thing for me and take my cock.”

Pushing inside, she chuckled at his low moan, watching his fingers twitch, itching to wrap around his aching cock.

She stilled for a moment, waiting for him to adjust, her gloved hands roaming over his skin and making him shiver. He was barely holding on by a thread and she knew, feeling him rock back into her.

One hand grabbed his shoulder, the other staying on his hip, slowly starting to push in and out of him, then becoming faster.

Relishing in his moans and whimpers, not touching his cock and watching him fight with the urge to do it himself.

“Please, touch me.” He whimpered, his arms shaking as she picked up speed again, her hand cracking against his ass. “Fuck! My dear, I need it, please.”

“No.” She said, pulling him harder against herself, knowing he was close, his voice high-pitched and breathy. “You’re gonna cum just from my cock in your ass, Maxwell. Know you can.”

He could, but he didn’t want to, he wanted her latex gloves on his hard cock, whimpers growing louder.

“Dear- My love, please touch it, touch my cock, I am begging you.”

A sharp thrust almost let his arms give out, so close to the edge.

“Maxwell.” Her voice was stern, a warning. Combined with her hand coming down on his ass again, he was done for, shaking beneath her as he came, her cock hitting the perfect spot inside of him again and again as she helped him ride through it. 

Breathing hard, his orgasm wrecking his entire body.

“Done so well, Max.” She whispered, finally letting her hand snake to his sensitive dick, grinning at the wince that left him. Kissing his shoulder, she slowly began moving again, ignoring his sounds of protest. “You’ve been such a needy boy, you can give me another.”

He knew he was in trouble when he felt the smile against his shoulder.

“You begged for me, after all, needed me and my touch so bad.” She giggled, wrapping her latex covered fingers around him. “Gonna have to put all this to good use.”

Oh, he certainly was fucked.

But he’d enjoy every minute of it, feeling the latex against his skin and her strap in his ass.

[nyanashima]

Flustering the Nowdateables (SFW)

Probs already been done but I haven’t seen one? So here. Take

Special edition with co-author @avatarofcuriousity!

Content warnings: none!

Diavolo

Very used to praise, being a well-respected public figure and all.

The quickest way to see him crumble (in a good way) is to see him as Diavolo the demon instead of Lord Diavolo.

Casual touches will be the death of him. Give him a hug, hold his hand, tackle him, grab his sleeve in a crowded hall, have him lean down so you can whisper something in his ear. He’ll be up at night thinking about it, guaranteed.

Stand up for him, too! If Mephisto prattling on about what princes should or shouldn’t do, feel free to cuss him out. Dia will tell you it’s unnecessary, but he’s not fooling anyone— he loves that not only do you see him as more than royalty, but that you firmly believe he should be allowed to be a regular guy sometimes. It’ll give him butterflies for days.

Not necessarily flustering, but a good way to stay on Dia’s mind is to get him little gifts that show you pay attention. A pack of his favourite pens when he runs out, a toy from a gacha machine… Hell, put a sticker from an apple on his forehead. He’ll leave it there until Barbatos takes it off.

Barbatos

As expected, it’s hard to get much of a reaction out of him… Barbatos handles himself so gracefully that it seems impossible.

But once you figure out how to fluster him, it’s game over.

Barb is two things: helpful, and a tease. The best way to get him blushing is to beat him at his own game, in one way or the other.

If you can wake up early enough, surprising him with breakfast and cleaning up after’ll do it. Barbatos doesn’t get taken care of often, so any unexpected act of love will have him hiding behind his gloves. He’s an ‘acts of service’ man, so being on the receiving end for once makes him short-circuit.

Or, if you want something that requires less effort: casual, helpful, intimacy. Get really close to fix a stray hair. Straighten his tie, flatten his collar, pluck an eyelash off his cheek.

Don’t be fooled; he may regain composure quickly, but he’ll be thinking about it all day.

Solomon

Sudden affection is the way to go for my man Solomon.

He’s chill, confident, and powerful, but not immune to the element of surprise.

Pull him down by the collar for a quick kiss. Hug him from behind while he’s hyperfocused on a spell. Catch him off-guard, and he’ll be rendered useless for a good few minutes.

Another great way to fluster Solomon is to take care of him. After being alone for so long, he’s used to handling everything himself. Humans are social creatures made for community and helping each other. Sol has gone without that for eons.

Wordlessly leave a sandwich on his desk while he studies. Bring a bottle of water to school for him. Tug him back inside until he puts on sunscreen.

Solomon’s experienced a lot, but domesticity? That’s new.

Simeon

Tempt him— but not in that way.

Simeon’s had people try to make him fall before; honestly, he’s used to folks making obvious passes. It’s the organic beauty of your actions that makes Simeon a lovesick mess.

Play with his fingers absentmindedly, kiss his palms, pass him a note in class that’s just a little heart. Small gestures of tenderness make him oh, so weak.

And, of course, being good with Luke. As Luke’s dad caretaker, seeing someone he loves treat his son well is bound to make him soft.

Getting along with Luke will earn you points. Seeking him out makes his heart swell, and being a good co-parent will make his knees buckle.

[dairy-farmer]

Was thinking of how to Neat and satisfying "Pathetic and Needy Fuck" Bruce? And?

:Dc I may be a Genius? >:Dc

☆~Time Travel~☆

Specifically? Tim.

See, things continue to degrade. Like in most comics. Bruce gets meaner, more unhinged, more paranoid. Alienates his family, one after another, with his bullshit. Tim holding on because he started by trying to fix this Fuck Up and he's GOING to finish the job.

Only?

It gets to a point where he's realized the are in a Bad Timeline. Good people disappearing or dropping like flies, and the Justice Lords(evil Justice League) just a breathe away from happening.

He realizes? He COULD have fixed this. Yeah. Bruce WAS fixable. But TIM was too young and inexperienced to be able to truely help, during the time period when it would have made a difference. It's too late now.

Well, shit.

So he steals a Time Travel device, one way, from the Watchtower and goes to ground. Predictably, without him? It all finally goes to shit. But he really was only delaying the inevitable.

He studies what he needs to do.

Figures out how to Handle Bruce(tm). And? Realizes? That Bruce was always the most stable and reasonable... when "in a relationship". But... Tim ALSO knows EXACTLY how each of those relationships ENDED.

In trainwrecks. That left Bruce WORSE then before.

He needs somebody that... won't...

Huh.

He considers the logistics. After all, he's not above taking one for the team.

Bruce needs SOMEONE to obsess over. Get his "companionship needs" from. Take on excessively researched dates and buy bizarrely specific gifts for. And it can't be someone who contradicts The Mission, like Talia or Selina. Harvey or Ghost Maker.

He can do that.

So, acting before the now corrupted Justice whatever-they-call-themselves find him, he picks up the device and uses it. Time to erase this time line. Sorry, everyone.

Aaaaaand.....

He is short, perky, and freshly Robin again.

And Bruce is a messy bitch. A depressed, depressed, messy bitch. Mean and lashing out, too. But hilariously soft compared to how cruel he GETS. Tim starts with bringing him coffee. Snacks, healthy of course. Information for the cases he's working on.

Oh, isn't he HELPFUL? Can you teach him how to massage and stretch muscles? To keep his body in peek health, of course. Robin has to be flexible, like Dick. Say, can you review his technique? He's learned how to massage a bit. Just your hand. Then maybe your arm. WOW your shoulders are tense!

Little by little. Unnoticed because Bruce doesn't want a Robin, tries to ignore him. Misses things because he does, as Tim buries himself deeper into Bruce's life. Weather getting warmer! Shorts and thigh highs, since the cave can be cold. Mid drifts for work out. Pants just a bit too big, so they slip low.

Having long since used his parents name and card to by stretching toys. Plugs and dildos, that he diligently works into himself, starting from barely anything to something almost as thick as Bruce, over weeks. Every night now, making sure to keep himself just loose enough to take it. To feel good.

The tedious work he goes through for this man, he swears. At least THIS feels good. Full.

He has full memory of cases that haven't even happened yet. Makes SURE to be there, conveniently stretched, for the bust of the "unknown drug" ring that turns out to be knock-off Pollen. Oh noooo! Bruce, that thug threw a bag at him! He's covered in powder!

He definitely doesn't smile, as Bruce discovers first hand, that though less effective? Whatever they changed, also means the Bat counter-agent is rendered useless.

Oh how distressing! He is virginal and distressed, Bruce! His bits are all wet and feeling WEIRD~! He informs his quickly starting to panic Mentor.

Bruce drags him through a shower, stripping their contaminated uniforms. Is shaking. Hard. And Tim? COULD be nice. He truely could. Could ignore the uncontrollable and let Bruce keep his safe little bubble. His distance.

But he's seen where THAT leads, so that won't be happening.

He begins to "helplessly" rub at his clit. Rock his hips against his hand like he has no idea what to do with himself. Lean against Bruce's side like his legs are weak. Whimper and pant. Oh no, Bruce, what ever will you do? Look how distressed he is~!

Bruce folds almost immediately. Sliding to his knees. Dragging him into a needy, consuming kiss. Thick, calloused fingers are rubbing him. Sliding in to eagerly fuck his little hole. Guided down under the streams of water to Bruce's lap. To be dragged down onto his desperate cock. Fucked on the showers floor.

It's hard to breathe, with the water spraying down, dripping into his face. But Bruce is finally pounding into him. Grunting and moaning as he batters Tim insides. Tim desperately teasing his own clit.

He doesn't even ask, slamming deep and folding forward like he's collapsing into Tim. Chanting his name in needy little gasp. Hips twitching as he pumps his load deep into Tim's body. Tim didn't even get to get off. He keeps rubbing til he dies.

It changes EVERYTHING.

Tim knew it would.

Bruce can never be normal about fucking someone. Now, his hands linger. He pays attention. Pulls Tim into his lap. Stares and pants after him. Desperate for another go. For more.

Tim can use it as rewards. Does.

Talk to your coworkers, you get to hit it. Actually mentor me, get to finger me tonight. Want to go down on me, you thirsty bastard? Use your big boy words. Want to bend me over and rail me? Finish the reports on your desk. So on and so on.

He can sit on Bruce's face for hours and let him lick and suck Tim sloppy. Ride him in his office chair. Keep his cock warm all day. But Bruce has to EARN it. And dear lord will he move mountain to do what it takes. Lick Tim's boots, take his abuse, be USED by him if that's what he wants. Just fuck him.

Good thing Tim's here to fix this mess. Even if that means spending Saturdays with his legs thrown over Bruce's shoulders, letting him eat him out as a reward. Ehh, he can be trained. Tim has time. And if it all goes to shit? He can do it again.

Now be good, Bruce, and fuck him harder.

-🐼🐼🐼

bruce being unable to be normal over someone he's fucked is sooo good ❤️❤️❤️ and tim using that as bartering tool to get bruce to behave 😍😍😍!!!

[agentrouka-blog]

Honestly speaking Robb should have fucking traded Jaime for his sisters, I have seen so many people defend him by saying the war was bigger than that but it really wasn't, until Robb made it so. He began the march for personal reasons, but when the lords made him king he decided to put them and the kingdom before his family.

I think GRRM is making it reasonably clear that Robb is primarily motivated by vengeance. He wanted to save his father and it didn't work, they robbed him of that opportunity by executing Ned, and Robb marries his sword in the godswood, commiting himself to violence, essentially. The lords respond to the crown's murder of their liege lord by spontaneously proclaiming Robb king. That's how the first book ends.

In the opening of the second book, with this new crown on his head, Robb isn't suddenly a wise and far-sighted ruler. He's still a fifteen-year-old who rushed South to accomplish a goal, no less than Jon was at the Wall. He's no less a child who shouldn't wield this power than Joffrey, than Dany, and the deference he is given to follow his inexperienced impulses dooms him no less for it.

The crown cursed Robb into having the power to make all the decisions. Where Jon was called back by his friends and was accountable to others, Robb was king and hid behind his lords' anger to justify his own priorities, seeking immediately to get rid of the one dissenting voice that spoke a language other than war: his mother.

Because she is right, even when she isn't insistent enough:

He pushed a fall of hair out of his eyes and gave a shake of the head. “I might have been able to trade the Kingslayer for Father, but . . .” “. . . but not for the girls?” Her voice was icy quiet. “Girls are not important enough, are they?” Robb made no answer, but there was hurt in his eyes. Blue eyes, Tully eyes, eyes she had given him. She had wounded him, but he was too much his father’s son to admit it. That was unworthy of me, she told herself. Gods be good, what is to become of me? He is doing his best, trying so hard, I know it, I see it, and yet . . . I have lost my Ned, the rock my life was built on, I could not bear to lose the girls as well . . . “I’ll do all I can for my sisters,” Robb said. “If the queen has any sense, she’ll accept my terms. If not, I’ll make her rue the day she refused me.” Plainly, he’d had enough of the subject. “Mother, are you certain you will not consent to go to the Twins? You would be farther from the fighting, and you could acquaint yourself with Lord Frey’s daughters to help me choose my bride when the war is done.” He wants me gone, Catelyn thought wearily. Kings are not supposed to have mothers, it would seem, and I tell him things he does not want to hear. (ACOK, Catelyn I)

Cat becomes lost in her argument because Robb is hurt by the truth and it hurts her heart. He is her son and her king, and this renders her incapable of properly confronting him.

It allows Robb to move past the moment, to ignore the pain caused by his own sense of guilt, to redirect the discomfort into removing Catelyn rather than admitting to what she said and forcing himself to be honest in his choices. Because the crown demands him to be responsible with his subjects and his country, far-sighted and unselfish. But he prefers the sense of power he derrives from it. The power to follow the more immediately satisfying impulse: vengeance.

[actuallysaiyan]

OMG CONGRATS ON 6K FOLLOWERS BACON 🥓💙. So for my first request I would like #14 (how much do you want to c*m?) with person A being let's see...Goku Black 😳please? and can it be Goku Black asking the reader that said question?🥺👉👈

event here.

warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, mentions of blowjobs, Stockholm syndrome, kidnap victim, victimhood, rough vaginal fingering, orgasm denial. word count: 0.9k pairings: Goku Black x Fem!Reader prompts: Person A: How much do you want to cum?

You never wanted to convince yourself that you were okay with this. You wanted to protest against it and make it known you’d be rescued. But the more the days would go by, the more you were coming to terms with the fact that nobody would hear your cries for help and that nobody would be coming to bust you out of this room. This is where you were going to stay here forever. 

Goku Black had taken a liking to you the moment he laid eyes on you. He knew he’d never find another good plaything like you. While you believed yourself to be killed the second he grabbed you, he surprised you with lewd whispers and caresses to make your body shudder.

You were thrown into a room filled with a bed and a few things to keep you entertained. It became quickly known that you were Goku Black’s little plaything. He intended to keep you as a sexual partner, a hole to use. Nothing more, nothing less. The only issue with all of this is that you made it difficult for him to do more than to get you to give him a blowjob. You weren’t ready to give yourself up to such an evil person. Yet you were beginning to enjoy the so-called torture he was inflicting upon you. You were finding pleasure in the way he would groan and growl as you learned how to pleasure him with your mouth. It had been so scary the first time, but the more you did it, the more you found yourself wanting to make him cum so good.

Goku Black hadn’t intended on developing some feelings for you either. It surprised you that he actually seemed to care about your purity. You had told him the first night that you didn’t want to have sex, and he actually listened to you. Something about that pitiful pout made his heart wrench in guilt. He decided to wait it out, show you all kinds of different ways to pleasure him at first. If he got you comfortable with pleasuring him, maybe you’d come around wanting to have sex.

You thought about your strange relationship with this man as you soak in the tub. Strange as it may be, you find yourself wanting to make him happy. That’s why you’re soaking in this tub full of rosewater and the lovely scents of other flowers. You’re trying to make yourself desirable. It’s such an odd feeling for you, but you know that deep down you’ll never leave this place. So it’s only natural that you try to enjoy this.

He enters the room while you’re resting on your bed. You’re not wearing anything, which makes him smirk. He’s quick to grab you by the ankles, pulling you down to the edge of the bed. Your head whirls with emotions as he plants a searing kiss on your lips. Your tongue can barely keep up as he shoves his own into your mouth, rubbing against yours.

“Such a sweet little thing,” he says with a cackle. “You did all this for me, huh?” he asks about the sweet scent and the softness of your skin.

You swallow hard, “yes, my lord…”

He smirks at you again. He’s trained you so well. You’re becoming his little fucktoy, and it won’t be long before you’re just begging to have his cock deep inside you. For tonight, he was going to show you pleasure so that you may slowly become more comfortable with all this. Goku Black spreads your thighs, grunting at the sight of your little cunt.

“Mmmm…” he groans as he leans in to get a whiff of your scent.

Two of his fingers rub up and down your wet folds, making you jump up and yelp. Just the reaction you made makes his cock throb. Oh this is going to be so much fun for him. He knows he’ll render you into a whimpering and begging mess. He can’t wait to see your face all flush for him as he brings you to your peak.

Before you can even sink into this pleasure, he brings those fingers to your lips. Your eyes widen at the gesture.

“Suck!”

You don’t even hesitate, your lips part to suck on his long digits. You can taste yourself on them, making you part your legs a little more. You’re desperate for this attention and pleasure now, which makes Goku Black laugh at you. Then he shoves those two wet fingers deep inside your waiting cunt, thrusting them in and out at a brutal pace.

“I knew you’d become my little whore,” he grunts in your ear. You cry out as he bites down on your neck. Already your walls are clenching around his fingers, and you cant your hips forward for a little more pleasure.

Your head falls back as you fuck yourself on his fingers. Your breath comes out shallower as the pleasure builds more and more. It’s like someone has lit a fire in your tummy. Goku Black has you exactly where he wants you, and he’s about to pull out his best move. Just as your walls begin to clench around him signaling your orgasm, he violently pulls them out of you and leaves you panting.

“W-why’d you do that?!”

Goku Black laughs, “I wanna hear it…how much do you want to cum?”