#so trying to pick out the colors and lighting was fun ^^

[vampz1re]

Do you do polyamorous relationship writing?

If you DO, can you write a relationship with Trey x Yuu x Cater? Yuu is said to be a 3rd year with them, and maybe in a headcanon layout :)

pairing: Trey x GN!yuu x Cater

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw: Fluff , tiny bit of angst , head-cannons, Polyamory , Reader is said to be Yuu & called Yuu, improper grammar , Jealousy , badly written , english isn't my first language !

‎ ‎ ‎ note: AHHH OF COURSE ANON ! I love writing polyamorous

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ word count: ‎ ‎901 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ enjoy ! ‎

CATER & TREY AS YOUR BOYFRIENDS !

Trey is the grounding presence, Cater brings the energy, and Yuu bridges both. It’s a relationship built on complementary strengths - trey’s calm support helps everyone feel secure, Cater keeps things light and fun, and Yuu naturally mediates and brings out the best in both of them

Trey shows love through acts of service - baking Yuu's favorite treats or packing lunch for Cater. Cater thrives on physical affection and constant praise, often pulling Yuu and Trey into selfies and cuddles. Yuu expresses love through words and small gestures, making each of them feel seen and understood (Although they've all agreed to not do TOO much PDA...just for the sake of others!)

You have a shared tradition - study dates with snacks from the kitchen and music picked by Cater. Sundays are sacred “no obligations” days where they stay in (usually in either Trey or Caters room), pile up on one bed or couch, and just exist together - watching movies, scrolling Magicam, or dozing off mid-conversation

Cater had custom friendship bracelets made for all of them - each one a different color but with a small matching charm. Trey wears his under his sleeve, Yuu never takes theirs off, and Cater flaunts his in every selfie. It’s their quiet symbol, three hearts, one bond - always there with one another in the happiest and the saddest moments.

Their relationship isn't one without bumps. While usually it goes quite smoothly, there is a small bit of jealousy hiding away. Trey and Cater usually both have a mutual jealousy for the multiple admirers Yuu has due to their friendships with almost everyone on campus - while Yuu sometimes gets jealous of Cater and Treys bond before their relationship - due to the two of them getting together months before them..this usually causes small issues , but are quite easy to fix.

You had been hanging around the first year gang , out at a cafe due to not having any of Crowleys work to do (for once) and the gang had decided to arrange an outing to not only do homework together if needed but also just to catch up due to not having any ton of time together due to testing coming up once more . "So what you're saying is you do put a Ghostcap mushroom and a wing of a blinkmoth into this potion to actually get it right? I've been thinking we had to put a wing of a blanketmoth !" your voice was whiny yet quiet, drained from just one question on the homework, as Jack had corrected one of your answers with a sigh. Your whine had caused Ace and Epel to let out snickers while Sebek shook his head, Deuce patting your back solemnly. Before any of them could say a word to you, someone had come up behind you and wrapped their arms around you, causing you to stiffen before recognizing the scent of sweet citrus — my darling orange headed boyfriend had come up behind me . "Yuu – me and trey have been looking everywhere for you .. were you trying to hide from your adoring boyfriends?" You could practically hear his pout and at the mention of trey you finally registered the burning gaze that was directed straight at the back of your head. Cater’s arms stayed snug around your shoulders, his chin resting on your head as he swayed you gently side to side, ignoring the amused stares from the first years. “You didn���t even text me back, Yuu. That’s kinda rude, don’t you think?” His voice was lighthearted, teasing - but you could hear the lilt of something sharper underneath. You turned slightly in his hold to glance at him, offering a sheepish smile just as a shadow loomed behind him. Trey, all calm intensity and quiet control, stood with arms crossed and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We figured you were just buried in homework,” he said smoothly. “But it turns out you were just… having fun without us.” The table went silent - Epel blinked, Deuce looked away awkwardly, and even Ace had the sense to shut up. "I really wasn't trying to ignore you..I haven't checked my phone in a while now..I forgot." Cater gave a mock gasp at your response, removing one of his arms to clutch at his heart. “Forgot? Oh no, Trey.. we’ve been replaced by a gang of underclassmen.” “Mm. Clearly,” Trey replied to Caters dramatics, but his hand was already sliding gently under your arm. “Guess we’ll just steal them back, then.” Before you could even protest, Cater and Trey each took a hand - Cater tugging you to your feet with a bright, pointed grin, and Trey guiding you toward the door with a gentle but firm nudge. “Wait - guys ! My stuff !” you started, but Ace waved it in the air. “Go on, lover boy and your baker boyfriend look like they’re about to eat you alive if you don’t leave.” Sebek huffed, “This level of emotional attachment is highly improper!” Epel whistled low, “Damn. You’re in trouble, huh?”But the door was already closing behind you, the sweet smell of citrus and the warm spice of vanilla and sugar surrounding you completely as your boyfriends whisked you away — your homework, and the amused (and slightly irritated) commentary of your friends, left far behind.

[mewkwota]

-"Dreaming" Mechanical Doll-

I cannot believe I have somehow been drawing this evil man for three months straight. I had this growing need to redraw a sketch I did of Juno near the very start of the year, and so I'm doing just that.

I've grown up with a fascination for robots, and there's this particular beauty in seeing them "at rest". So of course, watching Juno awake from his chamber, so cold yet pristine for such a dangerous machine, reminded me of that feeling (and only drew me more to his design). So I felt as if I absolutely had to properly reproduce this image, and especially that lovely sleeping face that I can't stop staring at.

(Oh and it's in color too, that's definitely new.)

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

if i was absolutely FORCED to go back in time to high school i think the one thing i would change would be. being more involved w the theatre kids

[imaginedisish]

Hungry Like the Wolf (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Loved this request. Thank you so much anon! Here is the *jealous sex* with Logan. Inspired by "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran. Enjoy!

Summary: You're cornered by a scum-bag frat-boy while on a mission in a club, and Logan gets possessive, deciding he needs to remind everyone who you're really with.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), rough/jealous sex, jealous!Logan, softdom!Logan, implied!age gap, creepy unnamed OC who doesn't fuck off, Logan gets a little (very) possessive, breeding kink?(if you squint), mention of alcohol, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,513

This has to be the most ridiculous mission Charles has ever sent the team on. 

Music pulses through your body, the bass of the song shaking the dance floor and the walls of the club. Everything feels blurred, unstable, just out of your grasp. Colored lights flash rapidly, and you look around hoping to find Logan out of the corner of your eye. Naturally, he’s nowhere to be seen, and neither is the rest of the team. 

“A club? You’re sending us to get information from a club?” Logan spat, furrowing his brows. 

Charles tilted his head to the side, taking a deep breath. “I assure you all, this is well thought out. The information on the sentinels will be placed by the informant on a napkin underneath a martini at the bar at promptly 12:45 AM.”

Logan shook his head, and Scott scoffed. “What is it, big guy? Afraid to have a little fun for once?” “Shut the fuck up, four eyes,” Logan said back. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gruffness, at the way he put Scott in his place. 

“Enough,” Charles commanded. “The club is called Nightmoves. Be there by 12:20 AM, no later. Is that understood?” Charles looked to you, Scott, Jean, Logan, and Jubilee individually, and waited for each of you to nod. 

“Fine,” Logan huffed. 

But now you’re here, alone, somehow separated from the team. You look at the watch on your wrist: 12:44 AM. Shit, you think to yourself, glancing at the bar. You see a hooded figure alone on the far-left side, and you start to make your way over. The person picks up a martini glass, places a new napkin underneath, and walks away. You look back down at your watch: 12:45 AM. 

You rush over to the bar, pick up the martini glass, and grab the napkin. The white, thick paper has small numbers scrawled on the back of it in neat, black ink—a set of coordinates. You smile, folding the napkin carefully, and stuffing it into the front pocket of your leather pants. 

“Hi there,” an unfamiliar, male voice calls from behind you. You turn around to find a young, 20-something-year-old frat boy ogling you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. Would’ve remembered.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and smile politely instead. “First time here,” you shout over the music. “And probably my last. I’m heading out, so if you’ll excuse me—” 

“Let me buy you a drink,” he cuts you off, stepping closer to you. 

You take a step back, bumping into the counter of the bar. “I’m alright. Really, I’m not staying—”

“Aw come on, I don’t bite,” he persists. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

You scoff, disgusted. “Listen, and fucking trust me when I say this, I am not into you. Got it?”

“Hard to get, I like that.” You audibly groan at his ridiculous, disgusting comment, trying to step towards the edge of the bar to make your escape. But he reaches his arm out, his knuckles brushing against your bare shoulder. “You know you want me, baby. Don’t try to—”

The man stops short, his jaw dropping. You take another step to the side, bumping into someone unmistakably warm and familiar. “I think she’s made herself clear, bub,” Logan says from behind you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer. 

“A-and who are you?” The man rolls his eyes. “Her father or something?”

“Fuck off, bub,” Logan growls, backing you away from the man. “You’re a disrespectful piece of shit. She told you no, and yet you kept badgering my girl.” 

The man swallows harshly, wracking his brain for something to say, for some excuse. “W-well maybe she wanted it!”

“Wanted it?” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Fucking prick.” Logan tugs you away, flipping the guy off with his claw. The frat boy responds by yelling Fucking freaks! shrilly over the synth-pop blasting through the speakers. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, his lips at the shell of your ear as he guides you through the club. “Did he hurt you? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, really,” you assure. “Just a fucking weirdo.” But Logan isn’t letting up. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close while guiding you through the crowded club. “I-I got the napkin,” you say, but Logan doesn’t answer. Just when you think he’s heading out the door, he takes a sharp left towards a dimly lit hallway.

He lets go of his grip on your waist, reaching for your hand instead, his fingers intertwining with yours. He doesn’t say a word as he walks past a set of doors—the bathrooms, the coat room, and an office. He looks behind him before trying the knob of a closed door. The knob twists and Logan pushes the door open, pulling you inside with him. 

“Logan, what are you—”

He shoves you against the door as the room envelops you in darkness, his hands fumbling on either side of your head for a light switch. There’s a click, and the light switches on, revealing a spacious broom closet. Logan cages you in, his chest heaving, his forehead pressing against yours. 

You bring your hands up to his neck, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Lo,” you whisper, his lips just inches from yours. You can see the jealousy in his eyes, the possessiveness, the protectiveness. He knows you can handle yourself—knows that you’re even more powerful than he is. And Logan isn’t normally the jealous type—he trusts you endlessly. But something set him off tonight—he’s almost feral. He works his jaw, looking down at you under dark, lust-filled eyes. He grips your wrists tightly.  

“Need you now, pretty girl,” he growls. “Nobody touches you but me.” His lips capture yours, hungry, needy, desperate. He’s swallowing you whole. “My girl.” His teeth graze your bottom lip. Everything is rushed and hazy, rough and impatient. “Fucking mine.” 

“Yours,” you mumble against his lips. “Only yours.”

One of his hands releases its hold on your wrists and slides down your body, toying with the straps of your tank top. “Gonna fuck you, pretty girl,” Logan husks, his fingertips trailing across your collarbone, teasingly tugging at the neckline of your top. “You want that?” “Y-yes,” you stutter, your knees buckling as he palms your breasts, massaging gently, brushing over your nipples. “Please.”

 His hand glides down to the hem at the bottom of your top, slipping underneath. His fingers trail over your bare skin, across your stomach, and up to your breasts. He smirks darkly at the realization that you aren’t wearing a bra. He hums, pulling your shirt up the rest of the way, revealing your chest to him. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he praises, teasing your nipples with one hand while the other still pins your wrists tightly against the door. “Want everyone to know who you belong to,” he husks, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then repeating on the other side. 

“Y-you,” you moan, rocking your hips against Logan’s, searching for friction, for some kind of relief. “Always want you.” You grind down on his thigh impatiently. 

“Need me that bad, huh?” Logan teases, pushing his hips against yours. You can feel his erection straining through the denim of his jeans. “Don’t think I’m too old for you?” He asks, half serious. “Don’t think that guy can fuck you better than me?”

“N-no,” you stammer, your chest heaving against his. “Th-that guy was an idiot,” you breathe, struggling to find your words as Logan’s hand slips down your body, suddenly palming your heat. “I just want you, Logan.”

His fingers brush over your all too-clothed cunt, toying with you. “I know, darlin’,” he soothes. His hand reaches up to the waistband of your pants, working at your button and zipper. He lets go of his grasp around your wrist as he drops to his knees. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leather pants, pulling them and your panties down with one fluid motion. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands as he settles between your thighs. 

“Lo,” you whine, his face so close to your cunt that you can feel his every breath. A shiver runs down your spine, anticipation and heat growing in your already aching core. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, always need—”

And then he’s lapping at your clit, burying his face inside your cunt. His tongue laves through your folds, savoring you, exploring you. “Tastes so good, beautiful,” Logan mumbles against you. “Always so sweet, so perfect.”

You curse under your breath, holding back your moans as Logan’s hand trails up your inner thigh, climbing towards your folds. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud between his lips and sucks roughly. His fingertips nudge your slit open, spreading your slick. 

“Wanted to fuck you on that bar,” Logan husks. He finally thrusts two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Wanted everyone to know who you’re with, who makes you feel good.” He slides all the way out only to shove his fingers back in. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper as Logan pumps in and out. “Logan.”

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Logan grunts against you, his tongue drawing tight circles around your clit. “Wanna hear you say my name again.”

“L-Logan,” you pant, his thrusts growing faster, his fingers dragging along your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside every time. He takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking roughly again. You bite your lip, holding back your moans. 

But Logan notices. His tongue slows to a stop, his fingers suddenly still inside you. He looks up at you, squirming against him, searching for relief, and he smirks. “No holding back, princess,” he demands, watching your hips rock against his fingers. “Wanna hear you. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as his fingers pull out, adding a third finger as he slams back into you. “Fuck!” You groan. Logan’s tongue laps at your clit again, flicking the bud mercilessly. His name falls from your lips like a chant, a prayer, a hymn. 

“Doing so good for me,” Logan praises, the vibrations of his voice rocking against your core. “Such a good fucking girl.” Your walls flutter around his fingers as he sinks deeper, still working you open with every thrust. 

“L-Lo, I’m so close,” you groan. His teeth graze your clit as he smiles against you, taking the bud between his lips and sucking again—longer this time, and harder. You can feel yourself slipping, falling apart under his touch. “Please, I wanna come, Lo.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, his gaze finding yours. You can see the starvation in his eyes, that possessiveness from before. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, pretty girl.” Your muscles contract at his words, your knees buckling as pleasure courses through your veins. “Wanna taste it.” He pumps in and out, harder, deeper, his tongue still drawing those delicious, tight circles around your clit. 

His voice darkens. “Wanna be the only one who ever gets to do this to you.”

And then your orgasm crashes into you, wave after wave, destroying you and building you back up. It’s overwhelming—your legs trembling as Logan continues to lap at you, to consume you, to commit your taste to memory. You cry out his name as you come, melting into the door as he works you through it. 

Logan’s pumps slow until his fingers are still inside you. He gently pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. His tongue licks long stripes through your folds and up to your clit, savoring every last drop of you. 

“Lo,” you whine, bringing your hands down to his head. You tangle your fingers into his hair, and he hums against you. “Lo,” you call again, and he finally looks up, his face pulling away from your cunt. “Need you now.” 

Logan smirks, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “Need you too, beautiful,” he huffs, letting the belt fall to the floor as he works at his button and zipper. “Always fucking need you.” He tugs his jeans and his boxers down his legs. He drags his beater up and over his head, casting it to the ground. 

He suddenly hoists you up, leaning you against the door, his hand gripping your ass, the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. “Please,” you beg, trying to sink down onto him, but he holds you back, pushing your hips into the door. 

“So fucking impatient,” Logan teases, suddenly thrusting into you, bottoming out, splitting you open. 

Your arms wrap around his back, and he presses his forehead to yours. He’s deep inside you, unmoving. “Lo,” you whine. “P-please, m-move.”

“Wanna feel you first,” he grunts, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So fucking tight,” he murmurs, his lips meeting yours again. “So warm, fuck.” He finally pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Logan,” you moan, digging your nails into his back. “Fuck me, please.”

He slides out, his cock dragging along your walls, and slams back in. “Like that?” He grunts, filling you up. “Want me to fuck you into this door?” You hum a soft yes, and Logan rams into you, his hips snapping roughly. 

“It feels so good,” you whimper, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing along the walls of the closet. “Only want you, Lo.”

“I know, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, his free hand slipping between your bodies and finding your clit. He begins to draw tight, rapid circles around the bud. “F-fuck, you’re mine. This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it?” “Yes,” you whisper as he fucks into you. “All yours. Always.”

Logan groans as he thrusts deeper, harder. His pace is insatiable, unrelenting, frantic. His thumb strokes your clit, adding more pressure with every swipe. You know he’d do anything to get you there, to have you falling apart in his arms. You know he wants to make you come again and again—to prove to you that he’s all you need—to make you feel good. No, better than good. Whole. Perfect. Satisfied. 

Your walls flutter around him as he flicks your overstimulated clit. “A-already close,” you whine as Logan plunges into you, his hips snapping against yours. 

“I know, beautiful,” he coos, pinching your clit. “Can feel you squeezing me.” He thrusts in and out, pushing you closer to that edge. Your walls flutter again, and Logan bites your pulse point, licking soothingly once he’s finished. “Let go for me, pretty girl.” It’s a demand, not a request. “Wanna feel you come.” 

It’s all liquid heat and warm thick honey, the tension snapping as you come undone again. But you know Logan isn’t finished with you yet. You know there’s more to come. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan a string of curses and Logan’s name. 

“That’s it,” Logan says softly, pressing a kiss to that spot just underneath your ear. “Taking me so well, letting me make you feel good.” His thumb is still on your clit, drawing those tight little circles while his hips pound into you. “I know you’ve got one more in you, princess. Know you can take it.”

“It’s s-so much,” you choke, the tension already building back up at the bottom of your belly. “I-I…” You trail off, fucked out beyond belief. He’s still splitting you open with every thrust, filling you to the brim. 

“It’s okay, princess,” Logan whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The intimacy sends a pulse of pleasure to your core. “I’ve got you, just wanna make you feel good.” You curse under your breath as he ruts into you, working at your clit.  

You know you can’t last much longer. Not with the way his eyes watch every moan escape from your lips, or the way his hips roll against yours, searching for more, always finding a way to sink deeper. He wants all of you, always. And you’re more than happy to give yourself to him time and time again. 

“You feel so good,” you whine, your muscles contracting and releasing as his cock pumps in and out. “Only you, Lo.”

“F-fuck,” Logan moans, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He flicks your clit, edging you along. You know he’s close, his cock throbbing inside you, twitching as your walls squeeze him. “Wanna fill you up,” he husks, shoving himself deeper. “Wanna make you mine.”

“I’m all yours,” you whimper. Logan pinches your clit, circling roughly, and the current drags you under. It’s more intense this time, stars flooding your vision as you let go. Your orgasm wracks through your body, leaving you a quivering mess as Logan finishes inside you, painting your walls. 

You share one breath, your chests heaving together as Logan’s cock stalls inside you. He strokes your clit as he fills you up, riding out your orgasm, easing you down from your high. His fingertips slip away from your bud and trail up your body, his arm wrapping around your back. He pulls you into his chest, holding you close, his cock still half-hard inside you. 

“I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, his possessiveness and jealousy are replaced by the softness he reserves just for you. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too, Lo,” you whisper back. You can hear the bass of the music pouring through the club, and you suddenly remember the mission at hand. “We should go. The others are probably worried.”

“Don’t care about the others,” Logan mumbles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Just care about you.”

You smirk, shaking your head, trying to wiggle yourself free from Logan’s iron grip. “Really, Lo. We need to leave. I have the napkin in my pocket. It’s the coordinates to—”

He cuts you off, pressing a kiss to your lips as he settles you back down. He pulls up his jeans and boxers, starting the process of putting everything back in its proper place.

“Relax,” he mutters, sinking down to the ground. He grabs a roll of paper towels from a nearby rack and rips off a sheet, cleaning your inner thighs. He throws the sheet into the garbage and pulls your pants and panties back up your legs. 

Logan tugs your tank top down over your breasts and swipes your hands away as you reach to button and zipper your pants back up. He takes over the task for you, bringing his hands to your face once he’s done. His thumbs gently brush underneath your eyes, likely clearing away whatever mascara or eyeliner smeared while he was fucking you. 

“You okay?” He asks once he’s done, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into his chest. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, letting him hold you for a second before slipping your hand into your front pocket to make sure the napkin is still there. You let out a sigh of relief when you brush your fingertips against the coarse paper. “Never better.”

“Good,” Logan whispers, letting you go and grabbing his belt and beater from off the floor. He pulls the beater up and over his head, and then slides the belt through the loops of his jeans, securing the buckle. He grabs your hand, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Ready?” He asks, and you nod. Logan twists the knob of the door and pushes it open, the pulsing music and lights of the club flooding your senses.

You walk towards the entrance, and find Scott, Jubilee, and Jean surveying the club, likely looking for you and Logan. 

“Let’s go,” Logan shouts over the music, getting the team’s attention.  Scott steps towards Logan. “Where did you go?” He yells. “We were getting worried.”

Logan reaches into your front pocket, and you can feel the heat rising to your chest as he squeezes your thigh and pulls the paper out. “She got the napkin. That’s all that matters.” 

You know Scott is rolling his eyes underneath those glasses. Jean smirks and shakes her head, and Jubilee laughs. You make your way to the exit, pushing through the doors and into the quiet of the parking lot. 

“You know, Logan,” Scott chides as you walk to the car. “I heard some guy talking about a freak flipping him off with a silver claw. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” He asks, condescension and sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

You look at Logan and he smirks. “Had to put an asshole in his place,” he says nonchalantly, his arm wrapping around your waist. He presses a kiss to your temple. “My girl,” he whispers against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. 

His. 

Nobody else’s. 

tags: @galacticglitterglue @buck-angel31 @alsoprettyinpink @annabelldoesstuffz @starrdustss @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @silversprings-mp3 @fanfic-writing-barbie @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @evasmlp @rammakela @cosmiccandydreamer (if I forgot to add you I'm so sorry)

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS WITH A STYLISH READER ── .✦

a/n: so I tried to base this off of me because I like genuinely LOVE fashion and creativity (my closet is seriously so full rn but I keep buying and buying but soon I’m gonna donate some pieces I never wore/ won’t wear again when i’m like moving in 5/6 months (in April) but anyways yeahh this is requested by the wonderful @luvly_writer (I GENUINELY DONT KNOW WHY MY MENITONS ARENT WORKING TODAY!?!?

tags: (batboys x stylish reader ᥫ᭡)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick’s always had a decent sense of fashion, but after meeting you, he realized his wardrobe could use some spicing up.

“Okay, I need help,” he says, holding up his closet of endless leather jackets and dark jeans. “It’s starting to feel like I’m a character in a some main character show..” (this tiktok HELPP here)

You pull together a sleek but casual look for him, fitted trousers, a patterned button-up, and a blazer. When he sees himself in the mirror, he whistles.

“Are you sure I’m not about to walk the runway?”

He loves when you add your flair to his outfits, often saying, “This is why I’m with you.”

Eventually, Dick starts mimicking your style in small ways—accessories, boots, and bolder colors. He’ll even joke, “You’re rubbing off on me in more ways than one.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason scoffs at the idea at first. “I don’t need to be styled. My leather jacket and boots are timeless, I don’t need like bags and purses like you.”

But then he starts noticing the way you turn heads wherever you go and how people always stop you to ask where you got your hat or etc from, and he gets curious.

One day, he half-jokingly says, “Alright, fashionista. Make me look less like I just rolled out of a biker gang.”

You have so much fun dressing him in a sharp, dark button-up, fitted jeans, and Chelsea boots. When you suggest a leather trench coat instead of his usual jacket, he raises an eyebrow but ends up loving it.

“I look like a villain trying blow up something in broad daylight,” he says, smirking. “But, like, a hot one.”

Jason doesn’t fully change his wardrobe, but he starts incorporating your suggestions—better fits, fewer holes in his shirts, and maybe a sweater or two. He always claims it’s to “shut you up,” but deep down, he loves how confident it makes him feel when his s/o chooses stuff for him.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s wardrobe is functional. It’s not bad because there’s a DIFFERENCE, Timothy drake wayne dresses in suits and is high end and chic but regular tim well… tim Is tim but he DOES care about what he wears just not like that serious about it, but it’s very much “guy who spends more time in front of a computer than a mirror.”

One day, he asks, “Do you think I should update my wardrobe? You know, to look… presentable?”

You practically light up, dragging him out for a shopping spree.

He’s a little overwhelmed by how excited you are, but he secretly loves the attention.

You pick out layered outfits—hoodies with tailored jackets, clean sneakers, and pants that actually fit. When he tries them on, he’s surprised at how good he looks.

“So this is what it feels like to be stylish,” he muses.

Over time, Tim starts borrowing pieces of your style. He’ll wear scarves, experiment with glasses frames, and even tuck his shirts in occasionally. You catch him researching minimalist fashion on Pinterest once, and he sheepishly admits, “You’re a bad influence.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian has a sharp sense of style already (thanks, Talia and Bruce), but he finds himself intrigued by your unique flair.

“You have a good eye for aesthetics,” he says one day, almost shyly. “Perhaps you could lend me some… insight.”

Styling Damian is like working with a blank canvas—he’s open to trying new things as long as it doesn’t compromise his dignified image.

You help him experiment with layered textures, sleek boots, and subtle patterns. He refuses anything too colorful but surprises you by agreeing to a deep emerald green blazer.

“I look… distinguished,” he admits, staring at his reflection.

He starts taking inspiration from your wardrobe, incorporating more modern and creative touches into his outfits. Every now and then, he’ll ask, “What do you think of this?” before leaving for an event.

Damian also becomes oddly protective of your style. If someone tries to copy you, he’ll say something like, “Flattery may be the sincerest form of imitation, but it’s wasted when done poorly.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce is already a style icon, but when he starts noticing the effortless way you put together outfits, he gets curious.

“What would you do with this suit?” he asks, gesturing to one of his many black ensembles.

You tease him for being so predictable but suggest a few changes—adding a pocket square, switching up his tie, and choosing a dark navy instead of black.

When he steps out in the new look, even Alfred raises an approving eyebrow.

“Now I’ll have to think about my outfits.”

He begins to take subtle cues from your style, occasionally asking for your opinion before galas. You catch him sneaking glances at your Pinterest boards once, and he pretends it’s for “business purposes” (you had to private your pin board after because he keeps buying 10 of each of what you put on your Pinterest board.)

[invincibledc]

Tiny request for twin reader with damian mabye they were seperated at birth aka talia gave bruce twin reader and kept damian but win reader has some kind of disability like walking with crutches and as soon as damian moves in he goes into protective brother mode and always tries to help twin reader

“I’m your protector.”

Damian Al ghul-Wayne x Disabled! Twinreader

Summary: separated from birth, Damian finds out you are disabled from walking. Knowing that you are his blood sibling, he can’t help but be protective over you

After Talia revealed to Damian he had a twin (brother/sister) that she gave away to his father all because you were disabled. He felt anger towards his mother and a little bit of betrayal.

How could she keep such a secret from him and the fact she just gave you away made him feel…protective.

He wants to know you are okay. He wants to make sure you are okay. So when he moved into his new room, he got a knock on his door. He opens it to see, you. You had crutches, smiling as your hand grip the crutches handle. “Brother! Oh my, we do look the same!” You were excited, happy. Damian immediately observed you, he sees you are pure of light. He was right to feel protective when you don’t know much of the words he is saying with his high vocabulary.

He draws and colors on your crutches, he likes to see the light in your eyes when he draws what you like on your crutches.

You both may be different, but his brotherly love is not. He’s always sitting by you, dinner, breakfast, lunch out of the manor, events, galas. He’s always there. Sure Bruce would try and tell Damian that you can protect yourself, maybe even that you can do things without his help. But you’re ten, just like him. So what did he do? Not listen to his father like he always do.

He’s happy to know you never wanted or tried to be Robin. His heart would break knowing that his precious half would try and fight. But that also meant you never learned how to protect yourself and fight mostly, making it worse for Damian to grasp.

Damian tried not to baby you much, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious at those random thoughts in the back of his head. “They’re gonna fall one day, what if no one is there to pick him up.” He would sometimes just sleep on a chair in your room incase you fall off your bed.

Damian would train Titus for whenever you fall and you can’t reach your crutches. He would have Titus use his body and guide you somewhere so you can get up.

“I’m your protector.” He would say when he sees you trying to get up and grab your crutches. But titus and him are already up and helping you. You laugh thinking he’s joking, but he’s not.

If you’re sick? Protectiveness levels are off the charts when he sees you cough and shake. Yeah he’s not going to school until you’re better. No way he’s leaving his sibling at home!

Would call pennyworth off his phone if you are homeschooled. Always checking up on you no matter what, it doesn’t matter if Alfred says you are okay. He wants to hear you say it.

If someone dared to make fun of you, he’s after them like the devil himself. If they dared to try and take your crutches, it’s gonna get wicked. Even god himself won’t be able to take Damian off the assailant.

Say you were also on the artistic route, he would absolutely treasure your art work. “It’s bad..” you said once, and Damian straight up lectured you about how art takes time and how beautiful your art work is to him no matter what.

I can see Jason saying it’s true the artwork looked terrible, and Damian just straight up chased him around angrily while you try to tell Damian it’s okay.

Titus adores you, and you adore Titus which makes Damian feel even better that Titus likes you. I mean who wouldn’t when literally you are the sunshine of the family.

Damian definitely have written letters to you when he was on “punishment” is what he called it when he had to go work with the titans. So when you visit him at the titans tower, he made sure most things were safe proof for you. Kory already knew you because of Dick. Kory tries to reason to Damian as he literally rips something apart because he deemed it as “unsafe.” But did he listen? No.

When beast boy playfully was play fighting with you, Damian was ready to cut Garfield’s head off. Only for you to wipe the floor of the green shapeshifter by using your crutch as a bat. Damian hid his sword with a smirk, maybe he doesn’t need to protect you much.

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

word count \ 3.7k | fluff & stuff | slash / mattheo riddle x reader

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time (part one to lovesick!mattheo) author's note at the end!

part one | part two | part three | part four

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

if you would like to read the second part, click here!

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[starryjake]

revenge | s.j

in which you get your revenge on jake after the time he overstimulated you with a vibrator.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: sub jake, use of sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation, drooling and crying kinda, cumming multiple times, kinda bondage (lmk if i missed anything).

jake was so pretty. absolutely exhausted jake who just wanted to cuddle with you and go to sleep was too, too pretty.

you just had to have your fun with him.

besides, he should’ve seen it coming. he’d done the same thing to you last week.

you were tired from a long day of work and classes and jake thought it was the perfect time to absolutely torture you with a vibrator. he made you cum so many times, you’d lost count, but you were so oversensitive that it hurt.

that night, you couldn’t wait to get your revenge.

and then it was time: when jake was so sleepy and dazed, bound to go along with what you say until he would realize what was happening.

“baby,” he said softly as you started nipping his jawline, clearly trying to get his attention. “i’m too sleepy.”

“i know,” you mumbled, your lips pressed against his neck, “but i wanna have some fun.”

jake looked down at you, his sweet, sweet girl. he never wanted to deny you of the things you wanted, even when he was as tired as he was.

“i just don’t know if i can do anything, sweetheart,” he said. “you can hump me or ride my thigh if you want. just don’t be mad if i fall asleep.”

“no, jake,” you whined, trailing your hand down his bare torso. “you need to have some fun with me too.”

you grabbed his cheek and attached your lips to his before he could even realize you were doing it. he instantly melted into the kiss, sighing against your lips and bringing his hands up to your hair.

“so needy,” he mumbled against your mouth.

he couldn’t see it since his eyes were closed, but you rolled your eyes. you were needy, sure. needy to see him get what was coming for him.

testing, you dragged your hand down to cup his bulge, feeling if he was hard yet. you weren’t surprised to find that he was. it never took him very long, even when he insisted he was too tired.

you stroked your hand up and down his clothed erection for a minute, getting him worked up enough that he would actually want to cum and take back what he said about being too tired.

you knew he was at that point when you pulled away from him entirely and he pouted at you, his facial expression asking why you stopped.

saying nothing, you reached into the bedside table drawer and pulled out the fully charged bullet vibrator he’d used on you last week. jake’s face remained expressionless, not catching on to what was going on. he really was tired.

you set it on the bed and went back over to jake, pulling his pants down to his knees. he’d forgone underwear since he was just going to sleep, his cock springing out and slapping against his stomach. he was fully hard, his tip a light pink color and drooling a bit of pre cum.

for a moment there, distracted by the sight of his dick, you forgot all about your plan for the vibrator. you wrapped your hand around his shaft and started slowly jerking him off, watching his face contort with pleasure.

it was only when you felt him twitch in your grip that you remembered your mission.

you let go of him, much to his displeasure, picking the vibrator back up. he watched you turn it on, the humming sound of it suddenly filling your shared bedroom.

“what are you doing?” he whined, lolling his head to the side. “just make me cum and let me go to sleep.”

you scoffed. he was such a brat, it only made you want to use it on him even more.

“i will make you cum,” you assured. “just close your eyes.”

“i’ll fall asleep if i close ‘em,” he said.

“you won’t,” you assured him.

he sighed and closed his eyes, immediately becoming more relaxed. his shoulders slumped and his facial features softened.

you didn’t waste any time and brought the little pink vibrator right to the tip of his leaking cock.

jake jolted in shock, his eyes flying open.

“what the hell?” he almost yelled. “what are you doing?”

“having fun,” you answered.

he reached out to grab your wrist but you stopped him with a menacing glare.

“try to stop me and i’ll tie your hands up,” you warned.

“y/n, please,” jake huffed, staring down at you running the vibrator around his tip. “you’re not using your vibrator on me.”

“you did it to me first,” you reminded him. “you used it on me until i was shaking and begging you to stop. and i’ve been thinking about getting back at you everyday since.”

“i’m sorry!” jake cried out, tossing his head back in either frustration or pleasure, or both.

he couldn’t deny that it felt good. for such a small vibrator, the pressure was there. he could feel it intensely pulsating against his tip, pushing out more and more beads of clear precum. you’d only just begun and he was already so messy.

“i’m sure,” you mumbled, gathering some of the precum with your other hand.

jake bit his lip, feeling a warmth spread in his stomach and he knew he was already close. it hadn’t been very long but his sensations were heightened from his exhaustion.

“i’m close,” he told you.

you didn’t stop or slow down. in fact, you ran the vibrator down from his tip to his shaft and back up, his balls tightening from the unfamiliar sensation. his back arched in a way that was so pretty, your eyes widening from how affected he was by the vibrator.

“go ahead,” you said. “go ahead and cum for me.”

with that, his jaw fell slack and he groaned loudly as ropes of cum spurted out from his tip, which was a slightly darker pink than it’d been when you started.

“mmm, fuck,” he moaned, head tossed back and hips thrusting up slightly to ride out his high. “oh, yeah.”

a sheen of sweat covered his chest and his rosy cheeks. his chest rose and fell rapidly with little gasps of air. he came for longer than you imagined he would considering you’d only just started, but you assumed it was because he’d never had a vibrator used on him before.

you turned the vibrator off for a moment, taking in the state of jake before you. a puddle of his cloudy cum coated his stomach and his eyes were shut. his chest rose and fell less rapidly, telling you that he was finally calming down.

“jake?” you said after a minute.

he hummed, his eyes still closed. it was clear he was right on the brink of falling asleep.

to keep him from doing so, you turned the vibrator back on and held it against the underside of his cock below his tip, his most sensitive spot.

he jolted, eyes flying open like they had before.

“oh, fuck,” he moaned, grabbing your wrist to try and stop you again. “please. i can’t.”

“you can,” you assured him, holding the vibrator and his cock all in your one hand.

“please,” he cried. “it’s too much. i’m too sensitive, y/n.”

“you’re okay,” you responded, thinking about how sensitive you were when he did the same thing to you.

“oh my god,” he nearly sobbed. “‘m cumming.”

it was so, so quick. only a minute in and he was already shooting out more ropes of cum, landing on top of the puddle that was already there, creating an even bigger mess of himself.

he whimpered, entirely shoving your hand off of him to give himself a break.

“what’d i say?” you asked, demeanor darkening.

“you’re not tying me up,” he declared, like he was in charge.

“wanna bet?”

jake’s big brown eyes widened, watching as you reached into the drawer again to pull out the silk rope. you certainly weren’t afraid to use it on him, especially if he was going to be pushing your hands off.

“don’t,” he begged. “please.”

“then stop trying to push me off,” you said sternly.

“but it’s too much,” he whined.

he was already keeping a close eye on your hand gripping the vibrator, weary for when were going to bring it back to his cock again. it almost made you want to laugh.

“you can do it,” you said. “you can be good for me, yeah?”

he bit his lower lip, hanging his head.

you brought the vibrator back to his cock, turning it onto the next highest setting from before. his poor cock jake gasped, instinctively grabbing onto your wrist again despite what you’d just told him.

“jake,” you sighed, growing frustrated.

“i’m sorry!” he said, immediately retreating his hand.

you set the vibrator aside and grabbed the silk rope. you grabbed his hands and pushed them together, tying the rope around them tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to touch you again.

jake had a little pout on his face like a child who’d just gotten scolded after getting in trouble. it filled your body with warmth, how cute he was.

“i just wanna make you feel good,” you reasoned, pressing the vibrator onto his slit.

he hissed, pushing his hips up. his abs clenched, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face from the intensity of the vibrator and from already cumming twice.

“i know, baby,” he said while exhaling shakily. “it’s just…a lot.”

“but i know you can do it,” you cooed, dragging the vibrator down a vein on his dick.

he clenched his jaw, the mixture of pain and pleasure so overwhelming that it was clouding his mind, slowly turning him dumb.

“i can’t,” he mumbled pathetically. “it feels so fucking good though.”

“i know, honey,” you cooed softly.

you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him prettier. his eyes were glazed over, his cheeks and ears a bright pink, and completely covered in his own cum. you wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of your tired boyfriend.

he tried to squeeze the bedsheets, but he was so weak. he couldn’t express his pleasure other than desperate moans.

he didn’t even warn you the next time he came. it just started coming out out his red, used tip, drooling out slowly in comparison to the sharp ropes that were spurting out before.

you were were pretty sure you saw a tear a slip down his face and were certain that he was drooling. he moaned shamelessly, so out of it that he felt like he was dreaming. he’d never felt so fucked out in his life.

you kept the vibrator pressed against him while he came and didn’t remove it this time to let him calm down.

“oh my god,” he slurred. “baby, pl—oh fuck. i’m cumming again.”

less than 30 seconds than cumming before and he was already cumming again, which you didn’t even know was possible.

his load was smaller, but his reaction was bigger. he threw his head back, exposing his pretty neck. his entire body tensed and the prettiest, most desperate moans and whimpers came tumbling out past his lips, swollen from biting and drooling.

“fuck, i can’t stop,” he moaned.

you watched him, feeling the wetness pool in your panties from how beautiful of a sight it was.

the veins in his body throbbed, his muscles clenched, and he just a beautiful mess. his cock was drenched in his own cum, the vibrator slipping against him.

you caressed his leg, removing the vibrator from his spent cock. he let out a groan of relief from you finally pulling it away, of giving him a moment to breathe.

his eyes were closed, his entire body limp. you lifted his hands in order to untie the silk rope, setting his hands free.

you sat up on your knees, caressing his face until he opened his eyes again, looking up at you.

“you okay?” you asked, your thumb brushing his cheek.

“mhm,” he mumbled, even more tired than he was before. “that was fucking…insane.”

“was it too much?” you wondered, grabbing some tissues from the box on the nightstand to start cleaning him up.

“yeah,” he said, “in the best way possible.”

you chuckled, running your fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing it out of his face.

“go to sleep, okay?” you said.

“but can we cuddle?” he asked sweetly.

“yes, we can cuddle,” you responded.

“and can i be little spoon?” he asked.

“yes, jake.”

-

screaming. shoutout to the anon who requested this, i loved the idea so much! sub jake just….don’t get me started actually!

[colebabey888]

The IT Girl Wardrobe Essentials | IT GIRL DIARIES

Creating the perfect IT Girl wardrobe is all about mixing timeless classics with a touch of trendy pieces for an effortlessly stylish look. The key is to build a closet filled with versatile staples while adding fun, fashion-forward items that show off your personality.

Here’s how to put together a wardrobe starting on your It Girl Journey :

The Magic of Basics 🎀

Every It Girl knows the importance of having great basics. Start with simple, well-fitting pieces, something similar to a plain white/black tee, a pair of skinny jeans or mom jeans ( skinny jeans are always trendy if you know how to style them ) .These items will be easy to mix and match, giving you endless outfit options. They can be dressed up or down and that's exactly the type of clothing items you want to have.

The Perfect Pair of Jeans 🎀

When it comes to my denims, I don't mess around! Invest in a good few pairs of jeans that fit you perfectly. Quality over quantity! Levi, Pacsun, REVICE Denim, these are are all examples on companies that sell high quality denims. Classic skinny or straight-leg jeans/mom jeans are super versatile and go with almost everything. It's never a bad idea to keep a few light denims around either but go with what fits your skin tone best. To keep things trendy, try experimenting with ripped jeans or wide-leg styles, but make sure to always have a classic pair for everyday wear. If you're going for a more classy/clean look, I would skip out in the spontaneous ripped jeans.

The Little Black Dress (LBD) 🎀

A little black dress is a closet essential for every It Girl. Whether you’re heading to a party or going out to dinner, the LBD is always a chic choice. Pick one that’s simple and elegant, so you can easily dress it up or down with accessories. There's nothing more to it, a simple black dress will do it for any occasion, any time of day!

Cute and Comfortable Shoes 🎀

Comfortable yet stylish shoes are a must. Make sure you have classic white sneakers, cute ankle boots for your rainy days , and a pair of strappy heels. On a hot sunny day, I love a good pair of black thong sandals, they pull every look together and give off the perfect touch of a 2000's vibe. Skinny jeans or a sundress, paired with good accessories and a handbag, black thongs for the win always.

Balancing Trends with Classics 🎀

The secret to It Girl style is blending your wardrobe basics with trendy pieces. Each season, pick a few fun items like a patterned scarf, oversized sunglasses, or a bold handbag to keep your outfits fresh and exciting.

The Power of Accessories 🎀

Accessories can really make your outfit pop! Invest in timeless pieces like gold hoop earrings, a simple watch. Then, mix in trendy items like layered necklaces, fun belts, or colorful purses to add personality to your look.

By building your wardrobe with these essentials and mixing in a few trendy pieces, you’ll achieve the perfect IT Girl style—chic, fun, and always effortlessly stylish. My style is definitely changing and upgrading every year so there will most likely be a part 2 of this next year. These are just a few tips and tricks I've picked up on throughout my It Girl journey so far, but we're all learning so if you have any tips yourself feel free to dump them in the comments, mwah!

xoxo, colebabey8.88

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[arthemis005]

Wrong Person

The bar was crowded, the vibrant music filling the air, and the lights flickered in colorful tones. You looked around, trying to distract yourself. After a tough week at university, all you wanted was to relax and enjoy the night with your best friend, Mina.

However, your plans quickly changed when Mina became enchanted by a guy—tall, handsome, and clearly interested in her.

“Go talk to him!” you encouraged her. It was obvious she wanted to.

“We came here to unwind. I’m not going to leave you alone,” she hesitated.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. We came here to have fun, so go get him, girl,” you smiled, giving her a little push.

She smiled back before making her way toward him.

Not long after, they disappeared into a more private area, out of your sight. Now alone, you tried not to let it bother you. It was true that you had told Mina you didn’t mind, but in reality, the last thing you wanted was to be alone. You attempted to distract yourself—scrolling through your phone, observing the people around you—and, since you were at a bar, you figured you might as well get a drink.

The first one went down easily. The second did too. Before you knew it, the third was on its way. The bitter taste of alcohol barely registered as you focused on feeling less out of place.

However, as the alcohol took effect, a wave of dizziness hit you. The voices around you blurred together, the music pounded in your head, and suddenly, everything felt distant. You tried texting Mina, letting her know you wanted to leave since she was your ride, but after waiting a few minutes with no response, you figured she wouldn’t see your message anytime soon.

The discomfort grew, and you suddenly realized how vulnerable you were. Not knowing what else to do, you decided the right thing was to text your brother so he could come pick you up.

Fumbling with your phone, you scrolled through your contacts. After some difficulty, you finally tapped on his name and typed a message.

"Hey, Eiji. I’m at the bar, and I’m not feeling great. I think I drank too much… Can you come pick me up?"

His response came almost immediately.

"Coming."

You noticed his reply was unusually short. He was usually much more affectionate over text, but maybe he was just annoyed that he had to come pick up his little sister at 2 a.m.

Even so, you sighed in relief. You really didn’t want to be there anymore.

A few minutes later, you spotted a familiar blond-haired boy at the bar’s entrance. His eyes scanned the room, searching, until they locked onto yours. You tried to smile, but with the alcohol clouding your system and your mind in a haze, you figured you probably weren’t doing a great job of it.

He walked over quickly, his expression calm—no sign of judgment.

“Hey, let’s get out of here,” Katsuki said, placing his hands gently on your shoulders.

He started leading you outside, but as soon as you stepped out of the bar, you pulled away, stopping in your tracks and looking at him, annoyed.

“Where do you think you’re taking me? You can’t just drag me anywhere just because you’re Eijiro’s best friend.”

He sighed, turning back to face you.

“You texted me to come pick you up, dumbass.”

You stared at him, confused.

“What? No, I didn’t. I texted my brother.”

Too impatient to deal with you in your drunken state, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and held it up, showing you the message history. And there it was—the same message you thought you had sent to your older brother had actually been sent to his best friend. Your cheeks flushed as you realized your mistake.

“Can we go now?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You simply nodded.

He turned his back to you and walked toward his car. Now that you were calmer, you took a proper look at him. He was dressed in comfortable clothes, his shirt slightly crooked—almost as if he had rushed out of the house without even bothering to fix it.

Was he really that worried about you?

The thought lingered in your hazy mind as you followed him to the car. Katsuki wasn’t the type to drop everything for just anyone. He was blunt, impatient, and rarely went out of his way unless it was for someone he truly cared about.

Had he really rushed out just because of your message?

Your gaze drifted back to his slightly disheveled appearance—the messy hair, the crooked shirt, the way his jaw was set, like he was annoyed but still here. Still making sure you were okay.

Maybe, just maybe, he cared more than he let on.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, Bakugou opened the passenger door and waited for you to get in. Obediently, you did as he wanted and sat down. You watched as he walked around the car and got in himself.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.”

He nodded. “If you need to throw up or something, tell me. I don’t want you messing up my car.”

You smiled at his words. It was no surprise to anyone that his car was his most prized possession. But now that you were finally inside it, you understood why. The car was immaculate. Not a single speck of dust, the leather seats looked brand new, and the faint scent of something fresh—maybe citrus or mint—lingered in the air. It was the kind of car you’d expect from someone as meticulous as Bakugou.

You let your fingers glide over the armrest absentmindedly, still feeling the slight buzz from the alcohol in your system. “I get it now,” you murmured.

Bakugou glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Get what?”

“Why you’re so obsessed with this car. It’s… nice,” you admitted.

He scoffed, but you could see the corner of his lips twitching upward, as if he were suppressing a smirk. “Damn right it is.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as he drove, the soft hum of the engine filling the space. The city lights blurred past the window, and despite the night not going as planned, a strange warmth spread through your chest.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that, even though you had texted the wrong person, Bakugou still came for you.

Not long after, he finally reached your place. Parking the car, he stepped out and walked over to help you.

“Here we go,” he muttered as he steadied you, guiding you up the stairs to the apartment you shared with your brother.

Fumbling with your keys, you unlocked the door and stumbled inside, leaving it open so Bakugou could follow.

“Isn’t Eijiro home?” he asked, glancing around.

You looked around as well, but there was no sign of your brother.

“Oh, that’s right. He’s spending the night at a classmate’s place to finish a project,” you said, suddenly remembering.

“I see,” he muttered.

“Katsuki, can you help me get to my room?” you asked, pointing in its direction.

He nodded and led you there, steadying you when you stumbled slightly. Once inside, you grabbed your pajamas and made your way to the bathroom.

Bakugou sat on the edge of your bed, waiting patiently for you to return. Normally, he would have just left. But for some reason, he was still here.

And strangely, that was comforting.

As the warm water ran over your face, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering dizziness in your head. Slowly, you changed into your pajamas, exhaustion settling deep into your body. The night had been overwhelming, but knowing that Bakugou was still there, waiting, made it feel a little less lonely.

When you stepped back into your room, he was still sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone. At the sound of the door opening, he looked up, his sharp eyes scanning you quickly before nodding in approval.

“Feel better?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, much better.”

He stood up, stretching slightly. “Alright, then. I should probably—”

“Stay,” you interrupted before you could stop yourself.

He froze, raising an eyebrow at you.

You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “I mean… just for a bit. You don’t have to, but—”

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes, but instead of leaving, he sat back down. “Fine. Just until you fall asleep.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you climbed into bed, pulling the covers over you. Bakugou leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, looking like he wasn’t planning to move anytime soon.

The room was quiet except for the occasional sounds of the city outside. The only light came from the moon, casting a soft glow over Bakugou’s face. He looked ethereal—almost unreal—and something shifted inside you.

Sensing your gaze on him, he turned to you. “You know, to sleep, you actually need to close your eyes, idiot,” he muttered.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or something else, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“Thank you for coming to help me,” you whispered, shifting a little closer to him, seeking warmth.

“Whatever. You’re my best friend’s little sister—I couldn’t just leave you there, dumbass.”

You smiled and, before you could think twice, moved even closer.

“What are you—” Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed him.

It was soft, hesitant. But before you could fully savor it, he pulled away. You looked at him, confused.

“Look… you’re drunk. I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret tomorrow,” he said, looking away—but you caught the redness creeping onto the tips of his ears.

You smiled, nodding in understanding before curling up under the blankets. Your eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion and alcohol finally catching up to you.

Just as you drifted off, you felt the mattress shift slightly, a warmth settling beside you.

Maybe, just maybe, you hadn’t texted the wrong person after all.

[jccatstudios]

Six of Crows Character Design Notes

Character design notes for my most recent character lineup for The Crows! I did this last time for the super old ones I did right after I read the series, so these new ones are much closer to how I imagine them. There probably will be a good amount of rehashing from the old notes, but I hope you enjoy these nonetheless!

Kaz and Inej

Closest in color scheme due to how close they are at the start of the series, though there is a difference between the purples. Kaz's purple accents are light and muted (similar to the color of Kruge). Inej's tunic is more indigo, shifting away from the warmer purple she wore at the Menagerie. After she realizes her dream in the incinerator shaft, I imagine her theme color changing to dark blue, then dark teal by the end of the series.

I often see Kaz in a red tie, but he had to wear something different for my design since him and Van Eck would basically be in the same outfit. His black shirt is also meant to distinguish him from the real merchant class.

Coin added to Kaz's pose to refer to his magician and thief personas (and a callback to his backstory)

Their vests symbolize their morality. Kaz's is asymmetrical ("crooked and wrong...") while Inej's evenly goes down the center (more balanced and true to herself).

Jesper and Wylan

They're meant to contrast each other, since they don't exactly see eye-to-eye at the start, but their similarities are important. Both have patterned elements, brown leather boots, and freckles. My favorite differences: vibrant vs muted, gold vs silver, open vs closed poses

Jesper has freckles just because I feel like they suit him but also as a visual connection to Jordie. :)

Wylan is holding a Victorian fire grenade! They were actually used for extinguishing fires back then, but I can imagine Wylan replacing the ingredients to do the exact opposite.

I used to draw Jesper in a longcoat just because that look from the show is so iconic, but I changed it to something more cropped. The shorter coat makes him look taller and differentiates his silhouette from Kaz's.

Wylan's black vest is meant to hint at his merch family ties.

Nina and Matthias

Another couple who clashes through color palette! Nina's Heartrender red vs Matthias's northern blue. They also differ in leather color (black vs brown).

Matthias was a bit harder to design since he's not wearing clothes that he'd pick out himself. These are whatever Kerch dockworker clothes the gang could find for him, but I feel like they suit him enough to convey his personality.

Nina's necklace pendant is teardrop shaped (The Queen of Mourning).

Nina is wearing makeup and nail polish. From my limited research on Victorian culture, this was seen as improper, but I think that fits Nina's boldness all the better. I don't try to make any of my designs authentically Dutch Victorian (It's a fantasy series after all! Why not make semi-anachronistic designs that value personality over accuracy?), but it is fun to think about how these characters would be interpreted with that lens.

[riddlesbunny]

bad idea, right?

summary: A night of drinking with your friends lands you at your ex boyfriend’s apartment — which is ultimately a bad idea.

pairing: Modern!Aemond x Ex girlfriend!Reader

word count: 3k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, angst, brief mention of drug use, language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, creampie, Aemond is a fuckboy. 18+ MDNI

note: idk how I feel about this but Modern!Aemond is my weakness, and the grwm of Ewan ruined my life. Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to send me requests!

If someone were to ask you your own personal example of girlhood your answer would be simple: getting ready for a night out with your girlfriends. While going out and partying with your friends was fun, you considered the act of getting ready together art in itself.

It was tradition, a ritual. Filled with laughter, inside jokes, excitement, and anticipation.

Glitter, hairspray, memories. It was your time to bond and let go of everyday stress.

And that’s where you found yourself right now: sat in front of your best friend’s vanity, large curlers in your hair. The sweet smell of vanilla coming from Rhaena’s birthday cake scented candle filling the room.

Six months had passed since your breakup with Aemond and the twins had declared that you had spent more than enough time moping. It was time to get you back out in the world.

“I’m so happy that us girls are going out tonight,” Baela said as she finished up applying her mascara.

You involuntarily scoffed at her comment.

“What?” She questioned, glaring at you.

“It’s not like it’s just us,” you say matter of factly.

“Oh, come on! You know Jace is basically one of us!”

She wasn’t wrong. If you had to pick a guy to be in your friend group, it would be Jace Velaryon. He was easy to talk to, kind, considerate. A breath of fresh air from what you were used to. You understood why Baela was into him. Plus, he donned a beautiful set of chocolate colored curls matched with an adorable, toothy, grin.

“Do not beat around the bush, Bae!” You admonished, “I know Cregan will be there too.”

Cregan Stark was Jace’s best friend. A rugged guy from the North. He had a thick beard and piercing gray-blue eyes. He had quiet confidence, basically a big teddy bear. There was no denying he was rather handsome. It’s not that you would be opposed to sleeping with him, per say, you just weren’t sure if you were ready yet; although Baela begged to differ.

Once the three of you were all ready to go and the Uber was on it’s way, Baela pulled you to the side.

“Look,” she began, holding each of your hands in hers, “I know you're nervous. You’ve been through a lot and it can be hard to put yourself back out there — but you deserve this. Aemond’s out living his life, you have to live yours! It’s going to be fine! You look incredible, we are going to have a great time.”

Baela, as usual, was right. You were enjoying yourself. You were now on your third drink, tapping your finger nails on the glass as you half heartedly listened to Cregan tell an embarrassing story about Jace from when the two of them were in high school when you felt your phone vibrate.

A text from an unknown number flashed against your screen, paying no mind to it you opened it immediately. Your stomach dropped.

Hey… it’s Aemond.

You swore that men had some kind of radar that would let them know when a woman was finally happy without them. When that radar went off, only then was it that they decided to try to contact you again. Not during the months where your heart was left in ruin, not when you would do anything for answers. Only once you were healing, on the brink of reaching that light at the end of the tunnel; they weaseled their way into your life once more to ruin everything — and Aemond was right on schedule.

It had been months since he last contacted you, you felt as though your stomach was gonna fall out, your nervous system in a frenzy.

You could not let him ruin your fun.

“Let’s take a shot of something,” you suggested.

And then your phone buzzed again.

I know it’s been awhile, but I wanted to see how you’re doing?

Been awhile? That’s the understatement of the year. He didn’t care how you were doing when he broke up with you over a text. He didn’t care when the rumor of him sleeping with a professor spread around campus, humiliating you.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Relief washed over you once you saw Baela return with 5 shots of Tequila in hand.

“Heard this makes your clothes come off,” she said as she handed you the shot glass, shooting a wink over to Cregan. You downed the shot quickly, ignoring her comment. The liquid burned down your throat as it settled into your stomach.

Slamming the shot glass onto the table, your head spun and you could’ve sworn you felt your phone vibrate again. You needed air.

“I’ll be right back, I need a cigarette.”

“I’ll come with you!” Rhaena chirped.

“No!” You shouted, almost too enthusiastically.

“No, that’s okay. I know you hate the smell of smoke, Rhae. I’ll just be a minute.”

With that, you frantically made your way to the patio of the bar. Just as you lit your cigarette a familiar voice called out to you.

“Ohhh shit! I knew that was you!”

Now you were sure that the universe was certainly conspiring against you. It was none other than Aegon Targaryen. Aemond’s drunken, perverted, older brother. Wonderful.

Turning on your heel abruptly and puffing smoke out of your nostrils you gave him a reluctant wave.

“Hi, Aeg.”

“How are you?” He asked, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “how have you been?”

Not sure if it was the liquid courage or the need for someone else to witness the audacity of your ex, but you just shoved your phone into his chest, eyes glued to him as he scrolled through the messages with his eyebrows raised.

“Damn, I never would have thought Aemond to be the type to beg!” he laughed as you shot him a look of disapproval.

“Listen,” he said before taking a long drag of his own cigarette, “Aemond means well. He was pretty shaken up after you guys broke up.”

Yeah, right. What was there for him to be shaken up about? He broke up with you.

“And if you ask me,” he continued through puffs of his cigarette, “you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Isn’t he seeing someone like, twice our age?”

“Not anymore.”

A pregnant pause filled the air between the two of you as he handed you your phone back.

The conversation was becoming awkward, so Aegon tried to comfort you the only way he knew how.

“I know you’re stressed and all… do you, uhhh, want a bump?”

His question took you by surprise.

“A bump? Um, I’m good, Aeg.. thanks.”

The blonde lifted his hands up in defeat.

“Good call, if you do go see Aemond, I doubt he would be happy about that.”

“I’m not going to see Aemond,” you answer flatly, hitting his arm lightly.

“Well, whatever or whoever you decide to do tonight I wish you luck!” he smirked, “but, I know our mom would be thrilled if you started to come around again.”

“She misses me?” you blurted out, the desperation clear in your voice.

“Yeah,” Aegon shrugged, “we all do.” He smiled as his large palm patted against your back before he made his way back inside the bar.

You stood in silence as you finished your cigarette, unsure of what to do when you received yet another text from Aemond. You responded with the first thing that came to your mind.

Have you been drinking?

No. Come over. I want to see you.

Your phone buzzed again, but this time it was a picture. A photo of his cat Vhagar. The elderly feline was sprawled out across his leather couch, the caption reading: “she misses you too.”

She did not. She only ever liked Aemond.

Well, I’ve been drinking so… can’t drive.

Where are you? I’ll come get you.

No. He couldn’t. You couldn’t risk Baela seeing, she would kill you.

Nah. That’s okay.

God, this conversation was going nowhere. Why were you entertaining him anyway?

Let me get you an Uber.

Buzz.

Please.

Gods, he was pushy.

Fine 🫠

Once you found yourself back inside the bar, you decided to use that last shot of tequila as your reason to leave. You had said something along the lines of the mixture of liquors wasn’t agreeing with you and that you were gonna head out. The girls were disappointed, but they understood. Baela’s only condition is that you were sure to text her once you were home safe. You bid Jace and Cregan goodbye, and even agreed to go out for drinks with them again in the upcoming week.

As you sat in the backseat of the Uber, your palms filled with sweat and your heart raced as you made your way to the other side of the city to Aemond’s new apartment. You couldn’t help but feel nervous, wondering how he might react and if this was the right decision. Your mind raced with thoughts and emotions, but you tried to stay composed as you you pulled up to the building.

Aemond was waiting outside the apartment complex for you. His expression was unreadable as he puffed on the last few drags of a cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground and stomping it out so he could make his way over to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, offering a shy smile before extending his arms out to hug you. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

His scent alone was intoxicating. A mixture of nicotine, spearmint toothpaste and musky cologne. Being in his embrace again had your head spinning, you felt as if your heart was going to beat out of your chest. It was almost as if the two of you never parted ways, like he never left. Damn him, you thought to yourself .

“Well, this is my new place,” he said as he opened the door to the lavish apartment. It was absolutely was stunning. Beautiful, mahogany cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The living room was spacious with high ceilings and a giant window that had an incredible view of the city. It was very Aemond-esque. It felt familiar, safe.

You spotted Vhagar on the dark green velvet couch in the center of the room.

You watched carefully as one of her eyes opened, she rose from her spot almost instantly once she spotted you. Making a beeline to Aemond’s bedroom.

“I thought you said she missed me?” you asked playfully.

"I may have lied," Aemond replied, giving you a shy smile.

An hour had gone by and you had spent the majority of it arguing with Aemond about your past. You listened to him attempt to apologize, explaining that it wasn’t you, it was him. He made a mistake, he’s changed. You weren’t having it, and yet, in the midst of it all, you had found yourself sitting so close to him you were almost on top of him. Mid sentence he had crashed his lips against yours. A rude interruption, for sure — but now, all bets were off.

The kiss was rough and intoxicating, a clash of teeth and tongue. He grazed your bottom lip with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. Your head spun.

"More," you whispered against his lips, "I need more of you."

Aemond took no time to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom, as he placed you down on his bed gently. You feel his hands tearing off your clothes, striping you down to your underwear. Your heart raced with anticipation and desire. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. He lowered himself on top of you, reaching his arm up over his shoulder to remove his own shirt.

As he leant back down over you, his tongue trailed from your chin to your lips. A soft moan escaped your throat as he sucked on your lips, taking control of the kiss.

Arousal stirred inside you as he nipped down at your neck, licking and sucking until you arched your back under him, desperate for his touch.

“Missed me baby?” he teased, “because I sure missed you”, his violet eye scanned over your body, blown with lust as he made his way down. His slim fingers ghosted along your stomach, then gripped harshly onto the meaty flesh of your thigh. Your legs parted, letting him know what you wanted. He didn't hesitate, pulling your underwear off with one swoop. Leaving you completely bare in front of him.

“I missed this pretty little pussy too, fuck,” he groaned before biting at your thighs just before lowering his head between them, licking a stripe up your slit. You bucked under him, pushing him harder against you, driving his face deeper into your center.

A low groan left your throat, his name falling from your lips as you tugged at his silver hair and held his face against you. His tongue circled around your clit, the small bud swollen from his attentions. His fingers found their way inside you, exploring your cunt.

His thumb replaced his tongue on your clit as he rubbed harsh figure eights against you. He continued to rub your clit harder. Your breathing quickened, and your body legs began to shake.

"Oh, there’s my girl. You gonna cum for me?"

The combination of his words and a few more thrusts of his fingers made your mind go completely blank. Your ears rang, your vision blurred so much you had to squeeze your eyes shut, eventually seeing stars. Aemond finger fucked you through your orgasm as you soaked his hand.

You laid there for a moment, total blackness surrounding you until your Aemond’s calm voice brought you back to reality.

“Holy shit. You good baby?”

You nodded your head eagerly at him, “More than okay.”

After giving you some more time to come down from your first orgasm, Aemond crawled on top of you, as he began to slowly drag his cock between your already swollen folds, swirling the tip in your wetness; almost pushing in, but not quite.

“Aem,” you moaned, “please, I need to feel you. All of you .”

“Still so needy, hm?” He teased as he buried his cock inside you to the hilt. You winced at the length of him.

“Littleeee bit of a stretch baby,” he said as he let you adjust to his size, “there we go.”

"Oh.. Gods," you moaned. You forgot just how big Aemond was. The stretch was almost unbearable and yet, you craved more. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you.

He began to rock back and forth into you, pumping his cock in and out. The louder you moaned, the harder he pounded into you. Eventually, the head of his cock pressed against your cervix.

"Please, please don't stop," you begged. He began to pound into you harder and faster, the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room. You felt your second orgasm of the night building inside of you as he continued to fuck you.

"Oh, Gods! Aemond, please, you’re going to make me cum again,” you babbled as your orgasm ripped through you once more. Your cunt clenched around his length as the tip of his cock bullied the spongy spot inside you without mercy.

Your slick coated walls contracting around him was all it took for him to lose control. He let out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside you, filling you with his seed as he bit down hard on your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned as the aftermath of his own orgasm coursed through him, his cock still twitching inside of you. After placing a wet kiss on your cheek he positioned himself upright, placing a hand flat on the headboard behind you to help keep balance, he slowly pulled his cock out of you. You winced at the emptiness, a pool of warmth leaking out of your cunt and onto the bed sheets.

“Oh, shit. Here, let me help clean you up.”

As you came down from your high, you also came to your senses. No. Him cleaning you up would be too intimate of an act — as if he wasn’t just buried inside of you.

“No, Aem. It’s fine, I need to go to the bathroom anyway.”

He shrugged, “there are washcloths under the sink if you need one.”

Your heart sank as the bathroom door shut. A red lacy bra, that definitely didn’t belong to you was slung over the door handle. Memories of your past relationship came flooding back, along with feelings of sadness and regret. You couldn’t help but wonder who the bra belongs to, your first thought was that older professor. It's a painful reminder that not only had Aemond had not changed at all, he also just took advantage of you.

This was definitely a bad idea.

[jjkamochoso]

hii im so glad your requests are open, ive had this idea for a while and couldnt wait until you opened them

since you wrote about both jjk men and reader describing their type my idea is that maybe before reader and jjk men got together reader had to describe their type and reader described something totally different from jjk men lol (maybe it was before they even became friends) and men find out and get insecure so reader has to comfort them

Oh my gosh I love this!!! Thanks for sending this request in, I had an awesome time writing it!! I hope you enjoy🫶❤️

JJK Men When Your Type Was Something Totally Different From Them

Very Light Angst, Fluff

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

You and your boyfriend were sitting at a table in a cafe one day, enjoying drinks and each other’s company, when all of a sudden the serene atmosphere was shattered.

“Oh my god! Y/n, it’s been so long!”

A friend you hadn’t seen in a few years greeted you excitedly as you invited them to sit at your table.

“I can’t stay long, I have an appointment to get to,” they said as they eyed your boyfriend and smirked. “Who’s this?”

You introduced your friend to your boyfriend and they exchanged pleasantries. You and your friend then caught up for a bit until they checked the time on their phone.

“Seriously, two look really cute together,” your friend said, giving you a tight hug goodbye as they readied to take their leave. “Although, y/n, isn’t it funny how your type changed? I remember you told me awhile ago, when you were single, that you were into…”

Yuji:

“…super tall guys with black hair. Real dark, mysterious types.”

After your friend had left the cafe, Yuji was sporting a frown where a smile usually rested.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he replied, pushing the food around his plate with his spoon.

“You’re not very convincing, Itadori,” you teased, poking his arm softly.

“Do you think I’m cute?” he blurted out, taking you by surprise.

“Of course I do,” you responded, dumbfounded. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“Your friend,” he said, “they said your type is the total opposite of me.”

“Yuji, the last time I talked to them was three years ago. I hadn’t met you yet.”

Yuji looked up from his food, his face immediately brightened. “Really? Does that mean you’ve changed your mind since then? Because of me?”

“Yep, the only type I have is my fun loving, big hearted boyfriend Yuji Itadori, I promise,” you told him, leaving a kiss on his grinning cheek.

Megumi:

“…carefree boys with light colored hair and eyes.”

When your friend had gone and it was just you and Megumi again at your table, you noticed a change in his mood.

"Is something bothering you?"

"No," Megumi replied sharply, causing your extending hand to retreat back to your side of the table, not wanting to bother him. He sighed. "I just... why are you with me?"

Your eyebrows raised in shock. "Why would you ask that?"

"I'm not affectionate, I don't know what I'm doing in a relationship. I'm not even your type." He whispered the last sentence, his eyes burning a hole through his coffee mug.

"Oh Megumi, ignore my friend. The last time I've brought up anything with them that had to do with crushes or "types" was years ago, long before I laid eyes on you. I love you because you're you and I wouldn't want you any other way."

"I guess I could try being more carefree if you want," he mumbled, his cheeks turning a pale pink.

"I could sooner see you bleaching your hair," you replied, laughing softly as Megumi sent an annoyed look your way.

Yuta:

“…overly confident boys with blonde hair."

"Geez, I guess I'm not your type at all, then, huh?" Yuta wondered when your friend was out of sight, anxiously picking at his jacket sleeve.

"You weren't my type three years ago when I talked to my friend last, no," you replied, not wanting to lie to him, "but that doesn't matter. You're absolutely my type now. I don't think there's a boy more handsome or perfect for me than you are."

Yuta's face sported a red tint from him blushing at your words. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do, my love," you said, leaning over the table and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, leaving him more flustered still.

Inumaki:

“…guys who were super talkative and tall.”

Right as your friend left your table, you watched as Toge pulled his phone out.

"Let me stop you right there," you said, gently guiding the phone from his hands to the table, spying the dreaded, "I'm sorry I can't talk to you, you deserve more" note you knew he had already started typing. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me and I don't want you to ever forget that. What my friend said, that was my type years ago, way before I knew a guy like you existed. I couldn't ask for a better boyfriend than you."

Toge blinked slowly at you before picking his phone back up.

"You better be erasing that original message because you know I don't care that you can't really speak," you said sternly, earning a meek thumbs up from the boy sitting across from you. When he passed his phone back over to you, you couldn't help the laugh that escaped your throat as you read what he wrote.

While we're out, should I buy a pair of high heels?

Noritoshi:

“…extremely tall, tan, and muscular men.”

“Great. That sounds just like Todo,” grumbled Noritoshi after your friend left, taking a sip of his tea.

“I didn’t even know him back then,” you replied, ignoring the urge to roll your eyes at his jealousy. “Sure, I had a type, but that doesn’t mean I have to stick with it. You’re the most handsome man I know and you look nothing like that.”

“Do you promise I look nothing like Todo?” questioned Noritoshi, stifling a laugh.

“I swear.”

He gave you a gentle squeeze of your hand. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Todo:

“…skinny, short, pale guys.”

"That's definitely not what you said when I asked your type," Aoi said, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"I can't believe my friend brought that up," you groaned. "Back then, yeah, I was into super thin guys, but that all changed a few years later, right before I met you."

"Are you sure all my muscles don't bother you?" he teased, flexing his arm as he reached across the table to caress your cheek.

Your face warmed at his gesture. "I'm sure," you choked out, "but I wouldn't be opposed to you showing off your arms more often just so I can be 100% positive."

Aoi let out a hearty laugh as you sank further into your seat, flustered by your handsome boyfriend.

Ino:

“…super buff guys with dark hair.”

Ino kept his focus on his drink for a long time after your friend had spilled those details about you, obviously bothered that he looked nothing like that.

"Hey," you said after agonizing minutes of silence, "please don't take that to heart, that was my type a long time ago."

Ino looked up at you with an expression akin to a kicked puppy. "But has it changed? If I'm not your type... why would you want to be with me?"

"Ino," you said, standing up from your side of the booth and sliding into his, "I wouldn't date you if I didn't find you handsome. You are so kind and loving, and I think you're the absolute hottest guy on the planet. Maybe even the universe."

He dramatically pulled his beanie over his face as he dropped his head into his hands. "Now I have to compete with dark haired, shredded aliens?!"

Consoling him took much longer than anticipated!

Gojo:

“…quiet, short guys with facial hair.”

Satoru couldn't hold back his reaction when he heard that.

"That's your type?" he asked, shaking with laughter. "What the hell are you doing with me, then?"

"Satoru, stop," you pleaded, clearly embarrassed. "The last time I saw that friend was years ago. I was a whole different person."

"Do you not find me pretty?" he pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and batting his eyelashes.

"You're the prettiest man I've ever had the privilege to meet," you responded, playfully tapping his nose with your finger. "It would be interesting to see you with a mustache or something though."

You both got quiet, imagining what Satoru would look like with facial hair.

"Sorry I ever brought that up," you said.

"Blegh!" he replied, sticking his tongue out. "You owe me another pastry later because I lost my appetite picturing that."

Geto:

“…men with light hair and soft facial features.”

Your friend had walked away, leaving Suguru to mull over their words.

"Am I too... sharp for you, darling?" he asked, trying to joke but was clearly affected.

"That was my type forever ago, Suguru," you told him, earnestly taking hold of his hand that was resting on the tabletop. "You've been the only man for me ever since I met you. No one can compare to your beauty."

"Hmm," he mused, taking a slow sip of his drink, "I must say I enjoy hearing you praise me in such a way. All is forgiven."

"Good. I will love only you for the rest of my days, no matter how many round faced, blonde haired men try to whisk me away."

You witnessed his fingers tighten around the tea cup in his grasp. "I'd like to see them try."

Nanami:

“…men with long, dark hair and blue eyes.”

You paid no mind to your friend's words, knowing they were just reminiscing over something silly before they left. Kento, on the other hand, was busy spiraling as he ate his croissant.

"Everything okay?" you asked him, noticing the faraway look in his eyes.

“Do you not… find me attractive?”

You almost spit out your drink in shock. "I'm sorry?"

He wore a sheepish expression. "Your friend said that your type was men with long, dark hair and blue eyes. I don't fit that description at all."

"My "type" that they brought up was from many, many years ago," you said, rubbing your thumb against his hand to console him. "The only thing I find attractive now, after having met you, is a certain Kento Nanami. Brown eyes, short blonde hair, and all."

"I'm sorry for getting worked up over nothing," he said.

"You don't have to apologize for that," you told him, "it just shows how much you truly care. I love you for that."

You gave him a small peck on the lips before you two went back to savoring your time together.

Choso:

“…super preppy guys with blonde hair and green eyes.”

The only thing that ran through Choso's mind was confusion.

"I don't look anything like that," he uttered suddenly, tilting his head.

"I know, I was into those kinds of guys years ago," you confessed.

"But not anymore?" he asked with a hopeful lilt in his tone.

"Not anymore," you confirmed, sending him a small smile to ease his nerves that were noticeably running rampant at the thought that you didn't find him attractive. "My type now is guys with dark hair in two buns and an adorable black mark across their nose."

Choso let out a relieved sigh as you giggled and continued eating your food.

Toji:

“…short men with long blonde hair.”

As soon as your friend got up from the table, Toji had a disgruntled expression on his face. "Care to add anything to that?"

"I liked guys who looked like that when I talked to my friend last, which was, admittedly, a very long time ago," you explained, getting a grunt of displeasure in response. "And then I met you and I realized what my actual type was."

"And what's that?" he asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

You leaned in over the table, getting as close as you could to your handsome boyfriend.

"A real man," you all but whispered, eyeing him playfully. Toji's eyes widened ever so slightly before falling back into place, his lips transforming to a smirk.

"Sounds like your friend had it all wrong, then," he replied, winking at you.

[unintentionalseductress]

It's The Thought That Counts

My fic to @who-mentioned-rhys-larsen for my Secret Santa collab! Hope the smut was freaky enough for you pookie! Warnings: MDNI, sex, lingerie kink, toys, bondage, minor bdsm elements, bit of cum play, very little plot Summary: When you receive an unexpected present from Xavier, you realize his intentions are anything but holy. Word Count: 3425

Warm lights fill your small living room as you settle cozily next to Xavier on the carpet near the tree. Both of you were still in your warm holiday pajamas, yours a festive red and green with reindeer all over it, and his blue and white covered with snowflakes. Colorful wrapping paper was strewn all over the floor as Xavier put aside his most recently opened gift- a book of poetry you’d seen him eyeing a few weeks ago. Xavier takes the last remaining box from under the tree.

“The final present. I hope you like it.” Xavier’s tone is light but carries a hint of mischief and there’s a gleam in his ocean-blue eyes as he hands it to you. Curiously, you accept the box neatly wrapped in gold paper with a bow on top. You rip apart the tape and wrappings before opening the lid and your eyes widen in surprise as you see what’s inside.

You feel your cheeks reddening as you look at your presents. The first thing that caught your eye was a lacy, lingerie set in a silky cream color. It was folded at the bottom and as you observed the other contents lying on top of it, you squeaked and put the box down to cover your face.

“Something wrong?” Xavier’s voice is calm but has a teasing lilt to it.

“Xavier these presents…Why would you get me something like this?” You refuse to let him see your face even as you feel his large hand wrap around your wrist and tug. A playful chuckle leaves his lips and giving up on your wrist, he reassuringly pats your head.

“Why not? Weren’t we talking the other day about how we wanted to try new things in the bedroom? I just picked up a few things you had mentioned. But the lingerie set is entirely for my own pleasure. I thought you’d look beautiful in it.”

You finally take your hands away but can’t quite look into his eyes. Xavier catches your chin in his fingers and lifts your face to his. “Hey. You don’t have to be so embarrassed.” He pulls you closer and you rest your cheek on his shoulder, trying not to feel so flustered.

“There’s no pressure to use them. I thought I’d just buy them so that we had them on hand in case we were feeling adventurous sometime.” He nuzzles into your hair and you feel warmth gathering in your chest at the soft contact. Wrapping your arms around Xavier’s neck you lean back to look at him in the eyes.

“No making fun of me ok?” You ask him with large eyes and he smiles, nodding. 

“Now…what are these other things?” You gather courage and look back into the box. You pick up a pair of small clamps which had beads attached to the bottoms. 

“Nipple clamps.” Xavier moves closer to you and his hot breath tickles your ear. “Remember how that night you said you love having your nipples played with and you thought you’d like the extra stimulation?

His voice is husky and you feel a liquidy pull in the pit of your stomach at his words, little skitters of electricity running along your spine. Wetting your lips, you try to talk. “Uh, yeah. I remember. So these…?”

“The shopkeeper said they were beginner-friendly. A slight little pinch to heighten your senses.” Xavier’s thumbs subtly brush against the sides of your breasts and you feel the atmosphere in the room change, almost becoming steamy. Swallowing, you set the clamps aside and pick up another item, a silk pouch.

“Ah yes. This.” Xavier takes the pouch from you and the touch of his fingers on yours felt like little fires were erupting under your skin. He opens the drawstring and pulls out the items, which look like bits of satin.

“Restraints. For your ankles and wrists.” Xavier demonstrates by loosely looping one of the satin restraints over your hand and your heart skips a beat. “The shopkeeper suggested handcuffs at first but I thought these would be a little softer on your skin.” Xavier presses a kiss to your palm, the soft gesture setting off a firecracker of excitement in the pit of your stomach. He carefully puts the restraints back into the pouch and waits for you to pull out the last toy. 

Your hand trembles slightly as you pull out the last one, which is a strange U shape. One end had a small opening in the thick, cushy head while the other was shaped like a bullet vibrator. You run a finger over the soft silicone, then glance up at Xavier.

“And this…a novelty item the shopkeeper recommended.” Xavier runs a finger down the U-curve. “It can be used for both internal and external pleasure. This part-” Xavier taps the bullet-shaped end, “-Is meant to be inserted into your pussy. It vibrates and will keep your G-spot nice and stimulated.” His fingers trace back to the slimmer end with the opening. “And this comes over your clit.” His voice has become a sultry whisper as he explains, his eyes becoming darker with each word. “It has this delightful suction and it feels almost like a real mouth.”

Xavier is so close to you that you could have sworn he could hear the way your heart was beating rapidly like a caged bird. “Imagine this. You come out wearing that lingerie. I’ll take my sweet time removing it. Then we put those nipple clamps on. I think the pull would feel amazing on your sweet little peaks. Then I lay you down on the bed and tie you up with those satin ropes. And all the while you’re panting and moaning for me like a good girl, I’ll insert this vibrator into your cunt. How loudly do you think you’ll cry out when you orgasm?”

You find yourself tongue-tied and unable to push out the picture he’s painted in your brain. The idea of being so vulnerable to his eyes, of being under his control as he pushed you towards orgasm has your core clenching, and your clit was already throbbing uncomfortably from his descriptions. 

“Well?” Xavier prompts. “Do you want to put it on for me?” The intimate tone of his voice has you relenting and despite your reservations, you nod shyly. Xavier’s eyes light up and he looks approvingly at you. “Go on.” He jerks his chin at the lingerie. “I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

Your legs tremble as you get up, take the silky lingerie from the box, and scamper into the bathroom. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you started to undress. Turning, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, seeing your perked nipples under the light before you pick up the delicate bra and start to hook it on. It contrasted beautifully against your skin, the lace flirting at the swell of your breasts, and the material pushing your bosom up like it was offering to be inspected. Next, you drag on the little lace boy shorts, the silky feeling of them as they glide up your legs almost erotic. Once on, you turn, blushing when you see that they barely covered your round ass. You sit on the edge of the bathtub as you pull on the matching thigh-high stockings which have bows at the top, and do a spin in the mirror.

You did look good, there was no denying that, but you also had never worn anything this luxuriously racy in your life before. Your flush has spread to your body, staining your skin like a delicate blossom waiting for spring. Taking a deep breath, you step out and pad towards the bedroom, noting the box containing the toys was gone; probably Xavier had taken it with him. You peek into the bedroom and feel a skitter of electricity pass through you as you see Xavier has changed into a silky bathrobe that was loosely tied and left most of his chest on display. He had laid out the toys on the nightstand and he catches sight of you as he turns to put the box away. A soft smile graces his lips as he sees you.

“Well hello there,” he says in a sweet voice. “Won’t you come in?” On wobbly legs, you force yourself to move, stopping in front of him, your eyes cast downward. Xavier catches your chin and lifts your face to his. Those blue eyes bore into yours, but there’s gentleness in them as he admires you. 

“I knew you’d look stunning in this.” He sits down on the edge of the bed. “Turn around for me.” Self-consciously, you spin slowly, feeling how much of your skin is on display. Xavier’s gaze was sending currents of heat shooting through you and you can hear his quiet breath through the silence. When your back is turned, he softly commands, “Stop.” 

You freeze, and wait, your feet digging into the carpet. “Bend over.” His voice cuts through the silence. Feeling your face burn, you lean over, feeling the shorts ride up higher into your crotch showing off more of your cheeks. The sensation of the fabric pushing against your pussy makes it throb, reminding you about the unspoken tension that had been building inside you from the moment you had donned the lingerie. 

You take a sharp breath as you feel Xavier’s hand cup your ass, giving it a squeeze, his fingers patting under the roll of flesh to make it jiggle. Satisfied with his groping, he chuckles softly. “Good girl. Now face me.” You straighten, then finish the turn and finally face him, your hands fiddling nervously with each other. Seeing this, Xavier tsks and pulls on your arm. You take a few shaky steps towards him and he comfortingly settles you on his lap, his hands running up and down your back. “Are you all right? Comfortable?” You nod, then whisper in his ear, “Yeah. I’m just a little unused to this.”

He hums in understanding, then helps you lay down on the bed before lying down next to you. He runs a finger across your cheek, down to your jaw, then your neck and collarbone before tracing the swell of your breast under the lace. The sensation tickled and you squirmed slightly under him. “That’s it, get comfortable with my touch,” Xavier murmurs, leaning in to kiss the column of your neck, his tongue laving the soft skin before he starts to leave a trail of wet kisses. The hand that was stroking your cleavage drops lower to cup your breast, giving an enticing squeeze that draws a breathy sigh from you. 

“Yes…just relax.” He dips a fingertip under the lace to flirt with the heated skin there and suddenly, you almost feel irritable, like the cool silk on your skin was too much of a barrier. Removing the invading digit, Xaver observes the way your nipples have hardened, the outlines clearly visible through the fabric and he brushes his thumbs against them. The sensation sends a line of lust straight into your core and you moan quietly at the action. 

A chuckle leaves Xavier’s lips and his hands wander to your back, snapping open the catch of your bra, revealing your prettily perked nipples to his eyes. Your chest rises and falls as you try to control your breathing but Xavier’s light touches and teasing looks are forcing you to remember the description he had told you earlier about how he was planning on this to go.  A noise of pleasure falls from your lips and Xavier pulls a nipple into his mouth, suckling and wetting it with his tongue and lips, alternating the suction and pressure as he tweaks its twin between his fingers. 

He hadn’t been wrong about the nipple play; you enjoyed it immensely, and currents of heat kept rising in your belly, radiating outward and making your body a pliant tangle of desire. As he switches to the other nipple, gracing it with his mouth, the persistent throbbing between your legs intensifies and all your brain can focus on is how you could relieve it. You needed friction so badly, and nothing was within reach. Whimpers escape your lips, your body trembling hotly under his mouth. With a wet pop, Xavier unlatches from your breast and admires the moistened peaks. 

“Ready to try out those clamps?” He helps you sit up and rests you against the headboard and gives both nipples a teasing twist that causes you to gasp before he picks up the beaded nipple clamps from the nightstand. You watch in fascination as Xavier gathers saliva on his tongue and spreads it over one of your peaks before sliding the stopper on the clamp loose. The cold metal slides onto the sides of your nipple and he slowly drags the stopper to close, letting it pinch your skin just enough that it brings a pleasant ache into the bud. He repeats this with the other one and the delicate pull makes you even needier than you already were. The little beads add weight and gravity pulls them downwards. They made you feel naughty like you were working in a burlesque. 

“How do they feel? Are they too tight?” Xavier tugs very lightly on one of the clamps and you yelp, not from pain but from the unexpected jolt of pleasure that courses through you. You shake your head no. “They feel good.”

“Ok good.” Xavier flicks the clamps almost imperceptibly, making them swing, enjoying how your face contorted each time. The sight of your trapped nipples had made him unbearably hard. It was taking all his willpower not to strip off your underwear and fuck you senseless at this very moment. Swallowing, he steels himself for what he wants to do next. He parts your legs by the knees, eyes becoming feral at the sight of the patch of wetness that has coated the gusset of the cream-colored boy shorts. 

Hooking his finger into the waistband, he drags the little strip of fabric off your legs, baring your sex to his eager eyes. The lips were puffy from arousal, and he could see a fine sheen of glistening moisture on the very edges of your labia. Xavier presses kisses to your inner thighs, stroking your calves and the arches of your feet. You writhe at each searing touch, the clamps jerking with each movement and bringing a delicious feeling of pain and pleasure each time. 

Your clit was swollen and begging for attention and all you wanted was for Xavier to put his mouth on you and lick you till you screamed his name in ecstasy. Almost as if he’d sensed this, he gives you a wicked grin from between your legs. “Not yet my little star. There’s still so much I want to do to you.” Leaning over you he reaches for the velvet pouch containing the restraints. 

He drags the smooth velvet over your belly teasingly, watching the skin quiver under the action, then down your legs, hovering over your inner thighs. The tickling sensation breaks your stillness and you gasp, toes curling in response as he creeps downwards. He delicately lifts your foot, creating a loop with the fabric, and securing it to the bedpost. He repeats the action on your other foot and your wrists until you're lying spreadeagled on the bed, your legs completely open to his mercy. 

The clamps shift as he finishes tying you, now splayed in opposite directions, pulling on your nipples and creating a new wave of need shooting through your body. You whimper at the utterly helpless position he’s left you in as he strokes your mound and then spreads apart your lips to reveal the swollen little bud at the top of your folds.

“Perfect. All sweet and ripe for the taking.” Without warning he licks a line through your folds and you squeal, straining at your restraints which hold you firmly in place as he has his way with you. You moan, barely able to move your hips to your satisfaction as Xavier sucks your clit into his mouth, wet little noises escaping the seal of his lips as he feasts. The air fills with your cries and just as you feel a particularly delicious spasm ripple through you, Xavier withdraws, leaving you panting and trying to bring him back to you wildly. You felt bereft, the absence almost unbearable. 

You turn your head to look at Xavier, confusion in your eyes, which then widen as you see him reach for the U-shaped toy. He strokes your cheek and gives you a quick, sensual, kiss on the lips. His long fingers probe at your entrance, testing your wetness before slipping a digit inside to ensure you’re prepared for what's to come. There’s no resistance, and he’s pleased to find only slick heat enveloping his finger. Confident now, he positions himself between your legs and begins to insert the toy. 

A primal noise of need escapes your lips as you feel the toy inside you, then with a little maneuvering, you feel the other curved end slide over your puffy clit, fitting inside the opening you had observed. You wait with bated breath, then gasp as Xavier turns it on. The toy buzzes to life inside you, drawing a low moan from you as you feel a mild suction on your clit. Experimentally, Xavier pushes the rubber button on the vibrator until it kicks up a few levels and your voice keens as the internal and external stimulation hits a point of perfection. 

“Is that enough?” Xavier’s voice cuts through the haze of sexual need in your brain as he watches your face. You manage a nod, your mouth hanging open as you try to breathe through the amazing sensations that are spreading through your body. Your eyes closed in ecstasy, feeling overwhelmed by what was happening. The combination of the pressure on your clit and nipples, plus the feeling of losing control, of being held down like prey while Xavier watched you come undone was unbearably arousing. 

Your eyes crack open, and your heart nearly stops as you see he’s removed his clothes, and stroking himself while watching you. You moan at the sight of his cock, your mouth watering.

“Do you want a taste?” He asks teasingly, and you nod, feeling like you need something in your mouth to ground you. He moves closer and gently lifts your head so that you can take him into your mouth. He hisses as your lips close around him, the soft wetness feeling exquisite on his heated flesh. You suck him for comfort, trying to focus on your orgasm. Xavier takes deep calming breaths, not using you, but seemingly content to watch you struggle in the throes of passion. He feels you back up suddenly, a muffled cry emanating from within, and realizes you’re on the edge. He pulls out of your mouth just in time for an animalistic noise of satisfaction to shudder free, watching you greedily as your whole body shakes as the orgasm grips you.

You writhe on the bed as gratifying pleasure fills you, radiating from your core and causing your clit and hole to spasm delightfully as it happens. Xavier watches and quickly pumps himself, the thought of how those spasms in your pussy might feel on his cock. As your moans die down he moves, still stroking himself, and gets the toy out of your pussy. He groans as he kneels between your legs.

“Where do you want it?” he asks in a breathless whisper, and your eyes meet his in a hazy glance. 

“On my clit…please…” you say in a breathy voice and that sends him hurdling over the edge. He lets out a gasp as his cock twitches in his hand, then aims it between your folds, watching his thick seed fall onto your swollen clit, messily cascading down onto the sheets. You hum in satisfaction as the warm liquid slides over you, then look up adoringly at Xavier.

“How do you feel?” he asks, holding his now spent erection. 

“It was amazing Xavier.” You admit dreamily, then giggle as he leans over you to remove the nipple clamps, feeling them tingle as the circulation returns. 

“Give me a minute, and I’ll put on the grand finale,” he says with enthusiasm, and you can’t help but grin at the promise. “Merry Christmas my little star.”

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia( pt.1 Here!)(pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. So much that I exceeded the character limit and need to post Diasomnia in 2 parts. I have favorites I guess :/

Malleus experienced more firsts over the course of three years than the duration of his life. His first board game session, his first group trip with peers, his first taste of carnival food, his first sleepover, his first true friend - so, so many firsts. All a byproduct of one person walking into his life and taking a genuine interest in him.

You were the first houseguest he personally invited over to Diasomnia. Not for a tour, not for business, not on behalf of another - no. You were Malleus' houseguest, there to visit Malleus and spend time with Malleus. The snacks prepared were for you both to share. The lounge seating reserved for your company. His first time hosting for fun.

You were the first person he ever got a present for outside of his family. How quick your birthday had come, and how startled he became to find he cared. You were older. Growing so quick and changing at an alarming pace. He could see it in your features and mannerisms. Malleus knew that humans aged at a much faster rate than fae. Silver sprouted like a beanstalk. Yet you were blossoming like a flower in spring. How long until you'd wither?

Malleus cared. Not out of curiosity, but something deeper. Malleus did not want a servant to pick your gift, not even his closest companions. He desired to adhere to human custom and do the task himself. He did not trust another to pick something meaningful and to your preference.

You were the first to make him laugh. Your humor being like none he had heard before. Others tend to correct themselves in Malleus' presence, or try to cater to 'his' taste. Even those closest to him, often sharing a joke that flies over his head without any explanation. You did no such thing. Your humor was curious, and perhaps a bit crude. The jokes did fail to land with him, but he still found them funny regardless.

You were the first to make him yearn. Malleus had felt loneliness before. He's been bound in it's searing clutches and taunted. Yet his rooted longing never compelled him to change. He never felt jealous. Until your smile became another's and he felt a hot pit in his stomach. One different than his fiery magic.

You were his first desire.

Malleus fumbled and panicked. He had finally found a friend, yet he wanted more. The realization striking him deep. The first want he had no guarantee of obtaining. Yet his need for you was strong. He could not lose you. Malleus begun to value your presence. Your joy. The new life you breathed into him. He held it as dear as his family. You became his fondest treasure.

Malleus needed to ensure that you would never be taken from him. That you would never change.

You were also his first failure. On the dawn of your second year and his graduation, Malleus proposed. He had forgone all customs and jumped straight to marriage. Love to the fae was a lifetime bond. No power could chain you to him stronger than matrimony. Which is why he demanded your presence in the gardens after the ending ceremony. He decorated according to your tastes, with colorful lanterns and firefly lights strewn across the plants.

He saw the hope in your eyes. The way they sparkled with affection and pride bloomed knowing that he was the cause.

“Malleus….It’s so beautiful. Did you prepare this just for me?” You ask, clutching your hands to your chest. He smiles, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a black velvet box in the shape of a rose.

“I’m happy to see you like it; however, I hope this offering pleases you more”

Malleus opens the box to reveal a ring. Your eyes widen owlishly and he interprets it as a good sign. Until you step back.

“Oh Malleus….I can’t accept this. We aren’t even dating!” You deny his unspoken proposal with a shaken tone Malleus’ is unfamiliar with. Not from you.

“Why not? I love you. Is that not enough? Do you not love me?”

He fails to understand why you declined. He spent countless hours studying human customs and expression. No. Studying you. He was confident you returned his affections. So why? Why not leave this place and join him?

You explain to him that you’re incapable of marrying someone you haven’t spent time with romantically. That you do care about him. That you liked him and did feel for him. That you could love him, but not so suddenly. You have friends at NRC and didn’t want to leave. Not to mention how him marrying a human, especially with no warning, would cause so many political problems.

Of course he had already taken all this into consideration. He didn’t care about all that, yet bit his tongue from speaking his mind. Another first for Malleus.

“What if I abide by your terms? Would you allow me to court you properly?” He cuts into your sea of reasons not to be together. They weren’t his concern. Only you.

This gets you. He clearly wasn’t listening. Love blinded the average person, and Malleus’ heart bled. You consider his offer, and agree to his courtship. It would be difficult to maintain considering your distance and his status. Yet they were fickle matters to Malleus.

You were his first failure, yet he didn’t mind. There was no true victory without a bit of labor.

The change that he so feared, it became something Malleus adored. Every time he would whisk you away from NRC, or return for a visit - you were different. You had a new story to share, or had changed your appearance. At first he began to panic once again at how quickly you seemed to evolve without him.

And one day he realized that you would keep changing. He’d see a new you forever. All these new versions. A constant spark and longing that made him realize how precious each one was. They would come whether he bid them to or not - so he had to cherish them. Every version of you was one he loved and lost. Yet the fact that another would emerge kept his heart complacent.

You were his first kiss on a dewy fall morning. You were his first heartfelt dance, dressed in shimmery black satin and pearls that he gifted. You were his first goodnight kiss, and first morning embrace. You were his first comfort after tragedy struck and his first sympathetic heartache. You were everything.

It was no longer about chaining you. He loved his firsts. He would forever remember them.

His first goodbye.

On the cusp of your 3rd year coming to a close, Malleus prepared the ring from two years prior. He would gift it to you after your graduation. It would be yours whether you accepted the meaning behind it or not - the ring could go to no one else.

An announcement arrives to him the week prior via pen and paper. Hand written by you and oh how he so loved your letters. Malleus opened it with calm delight, yet as his eyes traveled across the words he forgot how to control his strength. The paper alit in flames.

‘The Headmaster found a way to send me home. Would you come for a visit?’

The letter was not so blunt, but that’s all he could comprehend. Malleus was not ready to say goodbye. He once thought his greatest fear was to watch his flower wilt, yet now it must be cut to make a bouquet.

As much as it tore him apart, Malleus had to let you go. He couldn’t root you to soil forever. His hands unconsciously drift to the velvet rose box tucked safely in his breast pocket.

It’s only natural you’d be the source of some of Malleus’ lasts. He would never love another.

He joins you days before your ceremony. You explain to him the procedure to return, and he bites his tongue once again. He encourages you, and is happy that you’re happy. The ring burns a hole where his heart lies yet he continues on with grace, ignoring the cautious behavior of your peers whenever he’s around. The only opinion he cared for was yours, and he’d stay as long as you needed.

Malleus missed the way your heart sought his. The way you gave him chance after chance to ask you to stay. How you clung to him despite the roles normally being reversed.

“I guess this is goodbye. I’ll miss you,” you whisper, holding Malleus’ hand and glancing at the glowing portal behind him. Malleus smiles, his eyes softening as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“I will never forget your heart,” he murmurs against your skin, and reaches into his breast pocket with fluid movements. Malleus places the velvet rose box in your hands, cradling them gently with both of his.

“This is yours. I had it made for your finger alone, and only you will be the one to wear it. My heart belongs to you. Let this be my final selfish wish, but I hope you will think of me when you look upon it”

Malleus doesn’t understand why you break down. The way you clutch the box to your chest and look at him with such pain. He thought you wanted to go home. Is it not what you waited so long for?

He cannot be strong when you’re crying. How can you be so cruel. He won’t be able to -

“I want to be with you. I love you,” you whisper yet he hears it perfectly clear.

Malleus’ heart stutters and he clutches your shoulders. With one hand he tilts your chin up to look at him. Your eyes splotched with red irritation and glassy with sorrow. He wipes at their edges with his thumbs, cupping your cheeks ans looking at you for any sign of doubt. Any insincerity or fear. Your expression from years prior still lives rent free in his mind…he would not risk your happiness for his selfishness.

He finds nothing and pulls you in his arms. For the first time, Malleus sheds tears born from love. From relief. He wraps his arms protectively around you, and tucks his chin over your head.

“If you love something, let it be free. If it was meant to be yours then it will come back willingly. This is a saying of humans, is it not? I could not have you at the cost of your happiness. You do not deserve such a tainted love…but if this is truly what you desire, then I will not cease my efforts. You are mine, and I will eternally be yours,”

{Malleus’ ring is hand crafted by the royal blacksmith. Some would assume that there is a ring passed down through generations of the Draconia bloodline. There is not. The fae do not follow such traditions, yet Malleus would not instill all his values onto you. If it is a ring you need, then it is a ring he will get. He decides to reforge a gem plucked from his mother’s staff. The ring is made especially for you, with a teardrop-cut of magic-infused emerald as the focus point. It’s enchanted to reject any hand other than your own, and morphs to the size of your finger. It is subtle, made of pure gold, and a symbol of union between fae and mankind.}

"One should never make a vow of eternal love lightly. Take it from someone with ample life experience"

Lilia often imposes advice without any prompting. The musings of an old man normally went in and out of people's ears anyways. Sometimes it takes experience to learn, and no matter how we try to warn our children - fate is fate. They will go through the motions just as the people before them. Especially when it comes to trials of the heart such as love and loss.

Lilia knows both intimately. They've forged the man he is.

Philia: Love of friendship and equals. His peers, his comrades in arms, his fellow fae. The friends he has lost through death and distance. Those he fought to protect.

Storge: Parental love. To raise the son of his closest friends, and the blood of his sworn enemy. Lilia has fought through loss to feel the gratification of fatherhood. Lilia loves his children.

Agape: Love of man. This one took work. It took losing all he had, and then losing more. Hundreds of years of healing and trying to be better. Even in his final stretch Lilia is still learning this love.

Eros: Passionate, unconditional love. Lilia has felt this once, and only once. The wound still fresh with a dribble of salt steadily halting the healing process. To feel eros is a beautiful thing, but to have it ripped away is enough to kill.

Lilia experienced his fair share, and now enjoys watching those in the prime of life seek out love. He doesn't engage in romantic gossip, but enjoys watching others live their lives. One of his biggest curiosities being you, oddly enough.

This is because you've shown no interest in feeling love of any kind. Being the nosy man he is, Lilia finds your dismissal of others a bit concerning. He's not the most open person himself, yet you're a young human. This is when you should be wild! Surely you must feel something, considering all the 'escapades' you've been on with other students. The best way to bond is over shared trauma - he's not endorsing it. Just stating a fact.

"It's nothing personal. I'd rather not get too attached considering my living circumstances, if you catch my drift" you say in response to his prying.

He indeed 'catches the drift' and sees a bit of himself reflected in you. You were not unkind, yet also not overzealous. You did not push others away, yet also made an effort to protect yourself. For all the kind deeds you've done, Lilia knew better than to think it a case of bleeding heart syndrome. You remind him of how he was when deciding to raise Silver - afraid and very good at hiding it for the sake of others.

He decides to step in against his better judgement. If anything to repay the kindness you've done Malleus and his two youngsters. He couldn't watch you waste the precious life you’ve been given huddled away in isolation. Lilia would become your confident, as he is the most equipped to endure inevitably bidding farewell. If anything he will encourage you to forge stronger bonds of your own accord without fear.

He does an outstanding job at being the extrovert adopting an introvert. His favorite hobby being to startle you - popping out from random places like trees, bushes, the ceiling, your closet, etc. So much that you grow accustomed to his antics and expect them. Going so far as to always carry hard candies in your coat pocket as a peace offering.

He invites you to play online video games, go shopping, and sometimes pops by your dorm with Malleus. However his visits soon become solo, sensing that his adopted son didn't enjoy his 'nightly stroll' with his best friend being invaded. Lilia didn't mind - it meant that he'd get your company all to himself! There was nothing like watching a few horror flicks and tormenting Grimm after them. You even had a guest room in case he felt too ‘lazy’ to fly home.

On your birthday, he bakes a cake and leaves it on your kitchen windowsill. You found it, and even thanked him 'happily' later that day. He never said he was the chef though....you must have quite a keen sense of taste! That or he must be so talented that you know his cooking by heart!

Lilia felt a sense of relief, seeing your mannerisms shift from neutral to happy as time passed. It was hard work ebbing away at those walls of yours. It's not good for humans to be stressed. It lessens their already short lifespan.

He really should step aside. Let you befriend more humans and people that will support your journey. Except he doesn't want to. Philia's taken root in his heart - you're now a friend. An actual one.

So...he doesn't let go.

You join the college's boardgame club, and Lilia feels honored that he's the first you ask to play with. Each time you sought his company made him feel young again. Thrills did tend to follow your wake after all.

You often spent many evenings teaching Malleus, Silver, and even Sebek about your world. Not something Lilia planned for, but seeing you open up about it put his mind at ease. The different cultures, history, trends - Lilia listens in happily as well. Going so far as to learn some of your favorite recipes. He wants to cook them right away, but agrees to wait for your company. You grew nervous when he brought the topic up, possibly because you didn't want to be left out? Surely, that must be why.

Soon comes another January 1st - Signifying a new year and also Lilia’s birthday. The night prior he was out on the prowl, flying free throughout campus, watching people party and celebrate. Normally he’d spend this evening having fun of his own, but being caged at a school left him little chances to be free. Jumping across rooftops and sneaking around doing parkour was a trip down memory lane. The fireworks and lively people made for an excellent atmosphere.

By chance he happened on your rooftop, and decided to pop in for a quick respite. Slipping in through an open window was child’s play, as was avoiding your paranormal houseguests and popping in and out of rooms.

His keen hearing picks up your voice coming from the main bedroom - and normally he wouldn’t invade a personal space but the door was open. So obviously it was an invitation. He sticks to the ceiling and crawls to a shrouded corner with a mischievous grin.

How unsuspecting you were - dressed up in fancy clothes and muttering to yourself while in front of a floor length mirror. Lilia thinks you’re going to a party and is prepping to tag along -

“Alright. I can do this,” you mutter and turn around to pace the floor. A neatly wrapped present is clutched tight in your hands - wrapped in ivory paper with a sparkly pink ribbon. Lilia freezes just when he’s about to jump down, and clings back to the wall. “Just give it to him. Give it and tell him how you feel,” you turn towards the mirror, holding the box out, “Hello there Lilia. Yes, this is a birthday present. Yes, you’re a year older, how exciting! By the way I really like you so would you want to go on a date?” You fall silent, cringing in disgust at your reflection before sitting on the bed, “Ah. That was such dogshit”

Lilia exits as swift as he entered. The night air whips against his skin as he transforms into a bat and is already on the way back home. The implications of what he just witnessed weighing heavily on his mind.

This would not be the first time someone has caught feelings for him. You don't go 700 years without any suitors - he'd always turn them down with careful consideration.

Except he doesn't want to this time. That's the major issue.

The flight home was long, with purposeful detours until he felt tired enough to retire. A familiar bitter ache stung his heart. He'd only felt this disappointment once prior, and swore off letting it bud again.

Eros.

Lilia was in love too. He recognized the passion growing long before this moment, and against his better judgement let it fester.

"Seems I'm not as equipped to handle this as I once believed" he says to no-one and moves to play some online games instead of sleeping.

Lilia once felt a love he couldn’t express through anything other than fealty and devotion. It was a darker time where there was no promise of future. He swore not to endure that pain again - yet this is similar yet also different. The love is blooming effortlessly. His devotion is growing. The desire is there and so is the fear. All the same feelings yet without the dire weight of external forces adding pressure. This time it’s his choice to follow through. There’s no bigger force at play stopping him. Not even your mortality, considering how his lifespan is almost at its close.

Yet for all his years of wisdom, the thought of putting his heart out was still as frightening as the first.

In truth, Lilia had ulterior reasons for pursuing your companionship other than worry or repaying a debt. Your behaviors did remind him of his past self. That was no lie. He simply felt affection blooming upon your first meeting and thought having your friendship would morph it into something more tame. He had a habit of drawing in lost souls - what was one more?

Now the affection is stronger, and you return it.

Heavens, was he being given another chance? After all these years.

You return it. It's requited. He needn't hide it for the sake of someone else's happiness. Lilia could be selfish, if only he let himself.

The next day, Lilia finds an ivory box with a sparkly pink ribbon outside his door. A neatly written letter is attached, with the words 'Happy Birthday' written on the front. His name is written on the tag in black ink, with your name signed as the sender.

Lilia picks it up and undoes the wrapping with nimble movements. Inside is an assortment of treats that he wanted to try from your home, and a neatly folded letter atop them. It details exactly what was expected, a perfect explanation of your feelings that's entirely different than the nervous display he intruded upon.

He looks around the hallway, checking to see if you’re nearby before disappearing without a trace. Nothing but an open door showing that he left.

Everything after is a blur. While doing the dishes back at your dorm and trying not to think of the present - Lilia appears out of nowhere, startling you for what was probably the first time in months. His typical cheeky grin and snicker were nowhere in sight.

He says one thing, “Are you certain?”. The words held a heavy meaning for the both of you.

Asking if he’s willing to go for one last chance. To take one final risk or simply be satisfied with all he’s accomplished thus far. It asks if you’re willing to do the same - to risk everything you’ve built in one fell swoop.

You nod, and Lilia smiles. Not an impish smirk or a snarky grin. A true, soft smile that is full of released tension. He happily hugs you from behind as you finish working in silence, gradually slipping back to his playful ways yet not entirely. He would remain the out of touch peepaw that you so loved to tease him as, but a bit of his youthful spirit was being revived. His inner self being healed, perhaps.

He loves you, and the world hasn’t split in two. It was his time.

Finally.

From then on he had no reservations in loving you. This was a new form of eros. A new passion filled with joy and living for the moment - versus the weight of time holding him back like it did when he was younger. Nothing changed in your dynamic other than he now had the strength to let himself love freely.

Which is exactly why he wastes no more time. Just as he told you off hand long ago, one should not make a vow of eternal love lightly. He’d take his own advice and seek his own happiness for the first time in hundreds of years.

On a random night with no inkling of warning, Lilia drags you out of bed to the Ramshackle rooftop in nothing but your nightclothes. It wasn’t the first time he’d ask for a midnight escapade - just for the thrill and surprise, most of the time. He loved to keep things exciting.

Except he was being far too gentle. Far too nostalgic. He sits you down on the edge of the roof and puts his cardigan over your shoulders. Not a word passes between you as he tucks it snug around your shoulders - his hand tracing the line of your cheekbones, down your arms and to your hands. He cradles them gently, never taking his eyes from yours.

Then something foreign glimmers against your finger. In an effortless motion, he slipped the ring on without pause. You can’t help but stare at the gem in thought, looking between it and Lilia’s thoughtful expression over and over.

Lilia nods, taking your hand in his and running his thumb over the ring - admiring it against your skin.

“I’ve lived many years. Lead many lives. I thought I had accepted my nearing end, yet I find myself wanting more. I want to grey with grace at your side. To enjoy mundane evenings - greet you come morning and kiss you to seal a day’s end. I want my last life to be at your side, if only you will have me”

{A blood red garnet placed inside a blossom frame. Lilia’s ring is made of silver, and gives the illusion of a red rose in a bed of vines. Red is the color of passion, devotion, and unconditional love. Red roses hold this very meaning in the language of flowers. Lilia has felt this before - but you are his fated. You have chosen him simply for the person he is - not who he needs to be. He can finally be free and at peace. Your love is something he can selfishly hoard and it gives him the desire to enjoy life. He feels full. Happy. He hopes that this ring shows that he wants to live for the moment by your side, eternally}