Paxton’s Line “look, Devi, I Really Like You, But I Don’t Think We Can Have A Real Relationship

has a breakdown about what a lonely life it is. goes for a walk with headphones in. purchases a beverage at the supermarket. you know how it goes

see my type of men are those who are so hot they can’t help but spontaneously combust 🤭🫶🏼🥹🫡💓🤍💘

about

about the chocolatier

greetings, starshine!

name: ei age: 19 pronouns: she/her big three: leo sun, aries moon, and capricorn rising location: southeast asia likes: rom books, chick flicks, webtoons, cats, decors and furniture, smut, strawberries and mangoes, anything sweet

about the factory

this blog primarily contains my fic recs, playlists, and some ramblings from me. please be warned that i read and reblog posts containing dark, nsfw themes and interact with dark content creators; and so, those under the age of 18 should not follow or interact with me. thank you sm.

if anyone wishes to talk to me, feel free to do so. it doesn’t have to be anything serious; could just thirst for a character or rant about your day; anything goes as long as it follows my rules.

that is all, xoxo.

JEAN'S HANDS

on this ep of jean brainrot: his hands <3 and bc i'm touch starved and going feral there are some NSFW things under the cut hehe

he kisses your knucles like this, absolutely adores your hands regardless of how they look or feel. his kisses reassure that while his other hand holds you close, so you can murmur sweetly in his ear. just imagine when he brushes his lips against your hands while making eye contact omg.

jean's hands are more on the softer side, i feel like he's the type to take really good care by moisturising them. the veins that are visible aren't too prominent, but when he flexes....

hold your breath

wears silver rings, loves the simplicity of them and it looks stylish too. bonus points if you wear silver rings too bc now you can be matching <3

there's always some form of physical contact when you're with him, hand on your thigh as he drives. on cold days he'll warm up your hands bc his are like a furnace. in the mornings he has a habit of wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest.

ok ok now.....

sometimes you both indulge in an oil massage session starting off slow, pushing and releasing all the knots away. then it becomes a little bit more sensual, his fingers accidentally brush in a way that makes you moan involuntarily. of course your pleas don't go unnoticed, this man will tease you relentlessly until you're begging him to let you cum

dragging his thick fingers through your folds, taking his now glistening fingers and sucking them clean. it's the way he looks at you that makes even more erotic.

and the way they curl as you're whining and clenching around him almost makes him cum right then and there. your thighs are threatening to close around him. he uses his palm to gently open them up again

"don't hide from me love, wanna feel you clench around my fingers"

holds your hand during missionary, squeezing tight while pounding into you and whispering praises in your ear. grips your ass and spanks lightly when he hits it from behind

"god i love the way you feel."

"fuck baby, you're taking me so well. that's my good girl."

he goes absolutely crazy when you get loud, one hand sliding up your body in between your breasts then clasping over your mouth, his lips parted against your ear reminding you to quiet down.

[@killerbananas @dukina @ofallthingswhythis @toshji @shrekisshrimpthesimp]

Art by: l3earfat

DROOLING I AM DROOLING

OCTOBER 8TH. HADES

“my sweet, deluded little minion. aren’t we forgetting one teensy-weensy but ever-so-crucial tiny little detail? i own you.”

♱ — keigo takami + hate sex.

♱ — synopsis; as a naive little girl in love you make a deal that gets you stuck with the unrelenting god of the underworld, and no matter how sweet he may fuck you…you’ll spend all of eternity hating him if you have to.

♱ —length; 5.4K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, mentions of death, restraints, marking, branding, creampies, thigh riding, impact play, nipple play, multiple orgasms, possesive sex, hate sex, unprotected sex, fem!reader, hades!hawks. not beta read !

♱ — notes; screee happy sinister saturday !! tonight i bring you hawks beloved besmooched as disney’s hades!! i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it. !! mwah !! - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

pity. 

you should not have pity for the weak because you are weak, yourself. 

you’re weak because you’re too kind; you hate to see a dying soul twisting through those who end up in the land of the undead, shackled to their fate of never returning where the living are. you feel their desperation, hear it in the woeful cries of lost lives as they make their trip down a stream of decay— to be damned for almost all of eternity and like them, you’re desperate too. the underworld is a place to be hated, you think, tying you down to the stench of death and you’re so desperate to feel the sun on your skin once more…to taste the juice of a ripened fruit and feel the warm breeze against your skin while you brush through locks of silvering hair. 

you miss the air in your lungs, you miss breathing him in like he was oxygen.

Keep reading

There was no miscommunication. Alicent just heard what she wanted to hear. Earlier that day Viserys dragged his corpse ass to the throne room to reaffirm Rhaenyra as his heir and Velaryon boys as future heirs of the Iron Throne and Dritmark respectively. Alicent just used his dead man mumbling as an opportunity to do what she wanted to do all along

I wholeheartedly think that love letters are top-tier romance and they should never be out of style. Pour your heart out on paper and I'll feel every word pierce through my heart, I can never get enough of people who are open about their intentions and are very clear about what you mean to them. Don't ever hide your love or downgrade it. Life is too short for that.

[ IMPOSSIBLE ] BAKUGOU KATSUKI.

it’s quiet this morning—which is fairly odd with bakugou, considering he’s always cursing about one thing or another under his breath as he gets ready, but today it’s silent. 

and it’s only silent because you refuse to talk to him, and he’s not going to talk to a wall, so he plays along. but you can tell he’s an atom bomb ticking, ready to go off any moment—and it really doesn’t take long before he lets out one last frustrated huff and takes the spatula from your hand as you make breakfast, pushing the pan off the heat before turning you to face him. 

he notes that there are still two eggs on the pan instead of one (you’re angry, not rude.)

“hey, what gives—”

“i’ve had fuckin’ enough,” he grunts, narrowing his eyes at you, “quit bein’ mad.”

“oh,” you hum, smiling dryly as you nod, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll just stop being sad next time i’m sad too. or stop feeling tired next time i get tired.”

“y’know that’s not what i meant,” he groans, pinching his nose, “i meant ‘m sorry. so stop bein’ mad,” he tries again. it’s blunt and doesn’t really butter you up like you’d hope, but it’s him and it’s sincere. 

last night is your first fight since you’ve moved in together. as in, last night is the first time you and bakugou don’t sleep on the same bed. he’s stuck on the couch for cursing at you—he always curses, but never with that tone directed towards you—and you sleep on the bed alone. 

his back is aching, but that’s not even the worst part. the worst part is that he now realizes that when your body isn’t slotted next to his, he doesn’t know what to do with his arms (he settles for awkwardly crossing them over his chest), and when you don’t talk his ear off before bed, he doesn’t have the sound of your voice to lull him to sleep (he ends up tossing and turning on the couch for most of the night.)

and with this newfound information, bakugou katsuki decides he will never be sleeping on the couch again. ever. so his only solution is to fix things so you don’t send him there tonight too.

but you’re still upset, so you turn your head and huff. 

“well, you shouldn’t have been so mean to me then,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms at him. 

the first time you and bakugou fight, it’s at your apartment after a date. it’s the first time he raises his voice at you, the first time he’s not gentle behind the tough exterior you think is practically his second skin. and before he can make things worse, before he can ruin the first thing in his life that’s not just good or even great, but perfect, he storms out to clear his head. 

he comes by the next morning with your coffee order and some breakfast before he mumbles an apology at your front doorstep. it’s awkward and gruff and a little choppy, but his voice is soft and his eyes are dim. you sigh before offering to split your breakfast and he doesn’t step a foot inside your home until you give him a kiss. 

the second time you fight is in the car. you’re the one to storm out this time, slamming the door at a red light and walking off before he can even fully comprehend what’s happened. and because luck seems to never be on either of your sides, it’s raining. he finds you shivering on the park bench where you both have your first picnic, and he drapes his jacket over you as he lectures you like he’s your father about the dangers of walking off in the middle of the night while it’s raining. 

because he’s equal parts annoying when he lectures, and equal parts endearing when he’s worried, you cut him off with a kiss. it’s a messy kiss, rain on your lips and a clash of teeth from the initial shock, but he melts into it instantly. he understands that night why cliche rain kisses are so romantic as he holds you in the middle of an empty park.  

and he thinks no matter how many times you fight, no matter who’s mad at who, he’ll find a way to end every argument with a kiss if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

“yeah, so ‘m sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, “didn’t mean it, okay? i love you.” you can’t help but notice that the last part isn’t stiff and awkward like everything else—he says i love you delicately, like it’s a fragile thing to say, like it’s a privilege he won’t take for granted. 

“well, i’m still mad,” you say stubbornly. 

“then quit bein’ mad,” he furrows his brows, “my back hurts on that damn shitty couch, okay? ’s gonna hurt my performance too. i’ll have to tell the families of the people i can’t save that you’re the reason why,” he warns, and he smirks a little at the way you have to chew your bottom lip to hide the giggle you almost let slip. 

“how bad does it hurt?”

“worst back pain i ever endured,” he says instantly. it’s a lie. he’s been slammed against buildings and concrete and practically given you enough heart attacks to leave you bedridden for the rest of your life—but he has to convince you somehow, even if it’s through dramatics. 

you sigh, and he almost thinks he’s won—almost.

“okay, you sleep on the bed, and i’ll sleep on the couch tonight—”

“you’re so fuckin’ gullible,” he cuts you off instantly, “as if a damn couch could do anything to me. i’ll sleep there until you’re done bein’ pissy,” he grumbles. 

you frown because you know him, and you know he’s just saying that. and just like that, the anger melts away and leaves behind the soft ache that only bakugou can placate. the kind of ache he placates by pretending the couch doesn’t hurt his back so it doesn’t have to hurt yours.

“katsuki—”

“i said i’ll sleep there,” he says firmly, “you’d get cold anyway. fuckin’ baby.”

“fine,” you spit, scrunching up your nose as you huff slightly, “you can sleep on the bed with me. but don’t touch.”

“i’ll stick to the couch then,” he says flatly, “the bed’s a full package deal. cuddles or nothing.”

“you are impossible,” you scoff, and he grins, chuckling lightly as his eyes stare at you amused. and he’s not perfect, a little rough around the edges with a mouth that runs before he thinks, but he loves hard and deep, enough to make you believe you’re worth sleeping on a stiff couch for with a thin blanket. enough to show up at your doorstep with your coffee and breakfast order memorized. enough to soak through the rain to hand you a jacket so you’re less cold.

“you’ll come runnin’ to me for cuddles sooner or later,” he snorts, “might as well make it sooner.”

“fine,” you cave, and because you missed him just like he missed you, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss his jaw, “i love you too. and you can join me in bed and have your stupid cuddles.”

“‘m doin’ it for you,” he has the audacity to shoot back.

“katsuki, you really are impossible,” you snort as you shake your head, and when he gives you a lopsided grin, you kiss him slow and deep and a little more in love than you were yesterday. 

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