#ATS Belly Dance

[richdannys]

20 years ago, I self-published my sketchbook: “Wang-Dang-Doodle!” This was the drawing I used for the cover art.. Recently, I agreed to sell the drawing to a local Original Art collector/friend.. So, I thought I’d better make some decent scans of it, first. Hard for me to believe how quickly all of that time has passed!

#rich dannys #my portfolio #sketchbook #wang-dang-doodle! #Pen and Ink #pinups #2000s #2003 #Nejla Ates #burlesque #published #belly dance

[2hightocare]

UNEXPECTED NEWS!

Synopsis: Pregnant with your first child, how do you plan on dropping the news to your husband?

Genre: married au! KUWTB!

Warnings: whole lotta fluff.. cussing, mentions of sex, playful banter, found family… just fucking fluff bye.

a/n: well long awaited drabble.. I honestly adore all of them so much… Jungkook and oc were being extra cutesy (they usually play fighting all the time) in this.. enjoy🤍 ps I’m high as fuck so ignore all mistakes.

ask! KUWTB💌

“You’re fucking pregnant?” Your best friend whispers, Eunbi stares at you with wide eyes and mouth hanging open.

You had been feeling weird these past few days, from your emotions being all over the place to throwing up whenever you ate something. Jungkook was worried about what was wrong, but you just told him that you were on your period, which was a lie since you hadn’t had it in some time now.

So, here you are, sitting against the wall in the bathroom of Eunbi’s house with a positive pregnancy test in your hand. “I’m going to be an auntie!” Eunbi dances in front of you, her blonde hair coming undone from her bun.

“Oh my god, I’m pregnant.” It finally clicks in your brain that a small human is forming in your belly at this very moment, tears start streaming down your face.

You and Jungkook have been married for five years now. When you first got married, you both said you would enjoy your marriage and have fun. And that’s exactly what you did; you traveled a lot, went out to parties until five in the morning, did spontaneous stuff all the time.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Eunbi rushes to your side, kneeling down in front of you, lifting your face up. “Are these happy tears or sad tears?” She asks, her thumbs wiping your tears away, ruining your makeup.

“Both.” You sniffle, your eyes finally meeting her hazel eyes.

“Wanna talk about it?” Eunbi asks slowly, trying to read your expression.

Eunbi has been your best friend since college days; she was your dorm roommate. You both majored in the same thing, meaning you guys had almost every class together.

“It’s just that..” you pout, as the tears continue to fall.

“I’m happy, I’m really happy. But Kook and I haven’t talked about having a baby anytime soon. I don’t know how he’ll react.” You explain, as Eunbi only nods her head.

“Y/n, that man loves you so much, it’s even absurd what he would do for you. Knowing him, he would literally jump off a cliff for you. I don’t think he’ll react badly, but if he does, I’ll have the guys throw him off the cliff. Anyways, he loves you a lot with a baby or without a baby.” Eunbi says, helping you stand up before hugging.

“How do you think I should tell him?” You sniffle, as Eunbi chuckles, letting go of you.

“Pregnancy reveal plan in the making!” Eunbi says.

“And can we get out of here, this is where Yoongi takes his shits, it kinda smells bad,” Eunbi scrambles to the door, which has you laughing, following her lead out of the bathroom.

…

It’s been two days since you found out you were pregnant, but you haven’t told Jungkook anything yet. Eunbi and you planned a way of telling him the day you found out, so here you are, nervous as hell in Jungkook's car, trying to calm your nerves.

After a couple of minutes, you step out of the car with your shoulder bag and some shopping bags. You lock the car behind you and make your way to the main door.

“Hi baby, how did it go?” Your husband greets you the minute you walk in from the couch. “What did you buy?” Jungkook pauses the show he was just watching, putting all his attention on you, making grabby hands for you to go to him.

“Want a haul?” You giggle, making your way to him who pats his lap for you to sit on, which you do after dropping the bags beside him.

“Better have used my card,” he gives you a glare which you only roll your eyes playfully, reaching for your Prada bag before pulling out his black card and handing it to him. “Keep it, you use it more than me,” waves you off, giving your neck a wet kiss.

“Did the girls not go? I was on the phone with Taehyung, and he said Ari was making dinner.” Jungkook gives your thigh a squeeze, helping you adjust in his lap. “Ari said she was really busy with work, and Lora was taking care of Jiho since Jin is working.” You explain, running your fingers through his messy curls.

“You went by yourself? I could’ve gone with you, baby.” Jungkook pouts at you, which you shake your head with a smile. “Eunbi went with me, plus you had work,” You squeeze his cheeks.

“Tsk, I missed you,” He smiles, pulling your face closer to his before connecting his lips to yours. Your eyes immediately flutter closed, mirroring his smile against your lips.

“I have to show you something.” You bring up, your stomach doing a turn. “Show me,” He smiles, patting your thigh, before you climb off his lap, reaching for the shopping bags.

“Are you going to give me a haul?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, which you only wink back as a response.

“So, I got a lot of makeup,” you say, showing him every product you got, which he listened to carefully even though he had no clue what half of the stuff you bought is used for. “I got us these, so we can all match,” you pull out the biggest Nike shoe box first, passing it to your husband.

“These are sick as fuck,” Jungkook holds up the black and white high tops. “Let me see yours.” He motions to the other box in the bag; you hand him your shoe box. Instead of high tops, they’re low instead.

“Super cute, they match your outfit right now,” He says about your pink long sleeve bodysuit. “They do, don't they,” You say, cracking your fingers nervously to show him the much smaller box in the bag.

“Oh, who’s this one for?” Jungkook reached for the small box, opening it to be met with tiny matching shoes. “Are these for Jiho? I don’t think they would fit him,” Your husband brings up the only child in the family as he holds the tiny shoe in his palm.

“They’re not for Jiho..” You nervously say, as you dig into your bag, pulling out the positive pregnancy test.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Jungkook's mouth hangs open as he stares at your teary eyes. You shake your head, tears start falling down your eyes watching your husband that’s stuck in place with wide eyes.

“I’m going to pass out, baby, are you serious?” Jungkook's face scrunches up as tears fill his eyes, “baby, you’re pregnant?” He drops the shoes and moves closer to you, his hands holding your face waiting for you to say something.

“Yes, I’m pregnant,” You sniffle with a smile, reaching to wipe your husband's tears. Before you know it, he jumps up, fist bumps the air, and starts screaming.

“Fuck yes!” He shouts to the air as he runs around the house as you burst out laughing, “I’m going to be a dad, oh my fucking god!” He runs back to pick you up from the carpet, smashing his lips on yours, spinning around.

“You’re going to be a mommy, you’re going to be such an amazing mom,” Jungkook says between each kiss he leaves all over your face, making you giggle. You felt stupid for even worrying in the first place how he would react.

“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Jungkook sets you down, “Baby, it’s been two days since I found out,” You say,

“You knew for two days and you didn’t tell me?” He gasps dramatically, “I was thinking about how to tell you,” you reassure him, which he only nods, giving you a big fat kiss.

“Do you think it’s too soon to buy his crib right now?” Jungkook asks enthusiastically.

“Jeon..” you give him a look, “yes it’s too early and don’t call it ‘he,’ we don’t know what it might be,” you say, before getting on your tiptoes, leaving a kiss on his lips, leaving him in the living room making your way to the kitchen.

“You just called him and ‘it,’ that's so much worse!” Jungkook argues, following behind you.

…

“Your handwriting is shit, to say the least,” you say as your husband writes on the small index card. “You have a way to flirt with me, baby, thank you so much, I love you too,” he says as he glares up at you before returning to writing on the card.

“Do you even think they’ll open the cookies?” You pop your hip out, watching your husband. “You know they only come to our house for the cookies, right? They don’t give a fuck about us,” Jungkook bites a laugh as you pout. “Well, now I don’t want to tell them shit,” you joke, staring at the words on the card.

“Do you even think they’ll understand that? They’re a little slow,” Jungkook wraps his hand over your shoulder, messing up your perfectly curled hair. “Um, they'll figure it out, they got a Joonie to help them,” you shrug before stealing a cookie from the packet and running off.

“I’m so hungry,” Lora says, her hand on her stomach as if that would silence the growling happening inside.

“There are cookies on the counter,” you point to the kitchen, which Jungkook smirks at you.

With that, everyone stands up, dashing to the kitchen, acting like they never had a cookie in their life. You truly had no idea how all of you became obsessed with chocolate chip cookies; all of your guys' houses have a bunch of packages lying everywhere to eat. It was common and normal for all of you; for others, it might seem bizarre seeing grown adults fight over cookies.

“I swear cookies taste so much better in Kook's house,” Jimin rants as he watches Hoseok open the bag, stopping in his tracks as he reads the note. Lora and Ari try reaching in for a cookie, completely ignoring the note but getting swatted away by Namjoon.

“Y/n is pregnant!” Namjoon shouts, which sends everyone's mouths hanging open. “You’re fucking joking!” Seokjin gasps as he runs towards you and Jungkook, embracing you in a tight hug.

“Oh my god, they really got down to business,” Taehyung says, getting a swat from Lora who’s glaring at him before pointing her eyes at Jiho beside her. “Am I the only one who doesn’t get the note?” Jimin says as he reads the card, as everyone congratulates and hugs you and Jungkook.

“Eat up, mommy Y/n doesn’t want to be the only one with a belly, love baby!” Jimin reads the card, holding it up in the air after he’s done reading it.

“I told you someone was not going to know what it meant,” Jungkook whispers into your ear, only for you to hear, which makes you chuckle under your breath.

“You’re just mad I had to explain it to you,” you whisper back, which gets you a kiss on your cheek.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jjk #bangtan #jungkook x reader #fluff #bts jk #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook #jeon jk #jeongguk #jeon jungguk #jk #jk fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook masterlist #jungkook x you #bangtan smut #bts #fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #married au #pregnancy

[littlegingerperson5]

Piña coladas

Moodboard

SwitchEllie x SwitchReader

Warnings: aaalmost cheating ig, angst, fluff and smut😏, alcohol, scissoring on the beach bc that’s gay asff, fingering e! and r! receiving, oral e! and r! receiving, spitting, reader has a puthyy, lmk if I forgot some shit x

A/N: inspired by piña coladas by Rupert Homes. This was supposed to be a lil blurb but here we are ig x

As Ellie rinsed of her toothbrush and gave herself a quick glance in the mirror, seeing her plad pajama pants and white tank adorned to her body as she walked out the bathroom, rolling her eyes at your already asleep body as she climed into bed beside you, leaving her lamp on, considering the fact that she’ll be skimming through a newspaper for the next hour or so. (a habit she had picked up from Joel.)

She paused, for only a moment, admiring your pretty features and gentle smlie as you probably danced in the world of dreams, appreciating all the time you both have spent together, the memories, the laughter, the things you both had in common, the joy that she felt in your presence that has slowly started to fade, she felt guilty about almost resenting your presence, she didn’t hate you, you just never brought her that ecstasy that you both promised eachother at the start of this marriage, you both have falling into a lifestyle of pattern and predictableness, turning every day lifeless and a mere faded, dull colour on a once vibrant peice of art.

The guilt ate even more at her belly as she stopped on an ad, her finger tracing along the playful words that caught her eye, exciting her and scaring her at the same time, she shouldn’t be feeling this way about anyone, anyone other than her dearest wife. She battled with her emotions as she read the catchy poetry:

if you like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain

if you’re not into yoga

if you have half a brain

if you like making love at midnight (oh god has it been so long since she’s done that with you, she missed it)

in the dunes on the cape

then I’m the love that you’ve looked for

write to me and escape

Any thought of you instantly left her mind, enthralled by this new character, such a burst of life, she knew it was wrong, but she knew what she was going to do regardless as she picked up her notebook and played with her pencil, spinning it between her fingertips as she tried to think of something just as flashy to respond with, gnawing at her bottom lip, butterflies dancing in her belly as the graphite trailed along the pale paper while she prayed that her years of song writing would catch this poets eye, giggling to herself like a school girl as she wrote:

yes I like piña coladas

and getting caught in the rain

and I’m not into health food

i am into champagne,

She rolled her bottom lip out and squinted are eyes at the parchment, nodding to herself as she continued:

i’ve got to meet you by tomorrow noon and cut through all this red tape

at a bar called O’malley’s

where we’ll plan our escape…

The day dragged on as she waited for her new found love, reeking of her best fragrance and cigarettes as her foot tapped at the hardwood floor of the bar that was littered with dull lighting and strangely, Irish accents. She huffed as she straightened out her white button up, freezing like a deer caught in headlights as the main door creaked open, her heart stopping as her eyes locked onto a curve of lips that she knew far too familiar, it was her lovely lady.

As you trail forward her smile mirrors yours as she awkwardly jokes out “aw, it’s you” you both can’t help but laugh at each other’s situation as she pulled you in, closing her eyes as and breathing deeply as she placed a gentle peck on your forehead and pulling back, her huge smile taking up most of her face as she eyed you, her eyes slightly concerned “i never knew” she confesses, her hands on each of your arms.

You recognise her anxiety, “what you say we get a drink baby?” you say, your heart swelling at the sight of her happy smile returning “y- yeah I think that’s a good idea hunny” she says, interlacing her fingers with yours as you both walk hand in hand up to the bar, sitting besides on another, palms still touching as you both watch the middle aged red headed woman walk towards you “what can I get for the lovely couple” she smiles, her eyes lighting up at how you both compliment each other “two piña coladas, please” you order as Ellie laughs at your attention to detail…

After hours of talking and drinking, the bar has cleared as the hours ticked on late into the night, while the barkeep ‘Annie’ you learned after you and Ellie chatted to her for about an hour, telling her the story of how you both came to be where you are now “and and scene” Ellie bowed, one hand still on your thigh while she sat on the wooden barstool as if this was one big play, making you giggle, both of you clearly too tipsy for your own good as Annie tried to shoo you both away, growing impatient considering that she should have closed half an hour ago.

“alright you two, I think you both best be on your way now, it’s almost midnight” her fiery, curly hair sways as she tilts her head towards the clock “oh, yeah” you giggle “s-sorry Annie” you say, your speach impaired from the drink as Ellie leans forward and slides a twenty towards Annie “juuust lemme get that bottle of champagne” reminding you of her poem again as she points at the dark bottle on the top shelf as she turns and winks at you “then I’m DONE” she promises with a light slap to the Oakwood.

Annie sighs and stuffs the twenty in her bra, rolling her eyes and spinning on her heels, reaching up and grabbing the neck of the bottle, placing it in front of her as Ellie’s face lights up, her grin only dropping a little as the woman speaks “now get the fuck out my bar” she smiles sweetly as Ellie stands up, back ramrod straight as she salutes her “sir yes sir.”

She laughs as you mirror her actions, laughing to yourself as Ellie watches you with so much love in her eyes as you struggled to hold your laughter in while speaking “ss-sir yes sir” you even stomped your foot for special effect as Annie shooed you both while Ellie’s arm wrapped around your waist, wanting to steady you but mainly just to be closer. The alcohol was making her clingy and other things..

Both of you stumbled out the bar, gasping as the freezing droplets of water hit you and your wife as you snuggled towards eachother, Ellie taking the lead and guiding you to where you both are heading, her accessorised fingers gripping the icy cold neck of the champagne bottle and your waist symaltainuously, her cold thumb dipping into the side of your waistband and running along your flesh and making goosebumps appear as she neared the taxi she had her eye on.

You gripped the cold handle and ushered her into the car, stepping in after her and closing the door besides you, relaxing as the warmth of the car emerges you, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, Ellie’s voice fading as she told the driver where to go before she leans back and grips your thigh lightly bringing you back to reality as you squeeze them together and smile at her lazily, your face saying exactly what you want.

The wet haired girl just rubs circles onto the bare flesh of your thighs that peeped below your skirt “patience my love” she whispered to you, kissing you sweetly, pressing her pink lips to yours and just holding them there, feeling the plush of each others mouths against one another, making your face heat up as her hand slides between the plush of your thighs and squeezes softly, making your clit dance as she lays her head onto your shoulder, the smell of alcohol filling your nostrils as she drifts off while you stare out the window, watching to wherever the car is heading..

“Here’s your stop” happy blonde says, pulling you out your daze “a bit late for a trip to the beach don’t you think?” she asks.

You notice the full moon shining over the dark sea and the stars that littered across the sky, mirroring the sand that was thrown across the surface “uh” you paused.

Gripping the auburn headed girls shoulder “Ellie? Ellie?” You shook her gently, stirring her awake, her radiant face smiling up at you from your lap “yeah babe?” “we’re at the beach?” her body springs up, looking out the window “yes. yes we are” she laughs holding both her arms open at the sight in front of her “cmon baby and grab that” she tilts her head towards the bottle as you pick it up while she pays the lady “thank you” you both chirp before stepping out and closing the doors.

You watch the car drive off as Ellie’s hand meets yours again “cmon mama” she says in a love loving tone, watching the waves as she walks you down to the shore, it looked so pretty like this, it was just you two and the sound of the waves crashing.

Almost instantly Ellie’s lips are on yours, as she unbuttons your blouse, your hands landing in her hair as her arms wrap around your waist dragging you on top of her as she lands on her back in the sand, your knees on either side of her waist, as you both leave messy kisses on each others necks “fucking love you” she mutters, her fingers sliding into your panties “fucking love you too” you speak into her collarbones as she slides her finger along your dripping slit.

making your hips buck towards her as she grips the back of your neck pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, you slide your tongue into her mouth, dancing with the pink muscle as she rubs light circles into your clit, your eyes close, focusing on the feeling she’s putting on you as she sucks on your tongue and picks up the pace against your bud.

You pull away, and nuzzle into the side of her throat, your body writhing on top of her “ellie” you whisper “hmm?” “im gonna cum” you murmer into her neck “imgonnacum” your voice getting higher, your hips jerking as she pumps her finger inside you a few times before coming back down to your sensitive bud, your face pressed into her shoulder “d-don’t stop!” you squeal, your legs spasming as you palm her chest, your whole body on fire as you clench around nothing, squeezing so tightly as your teeth sink into her shoulder, making Ellies hips buck and her squeal in pleasure from the pain as you cum, your release dripping onto her abdomen and soaking through her clothes.

You breath, in and out through your mouth, catching your breath, your face hot as you speak, desperate to see more of her “guess we gotta take this off huh” Ellie’s lip tilts into a little smirk as you unbutton the shirt kissing the new revealed flesh with each undoing, one of her hands in your hair as your look up at her bare chest as your lips finally meet the soft leather of her belt before you unclasp it, your knees in the sand as you make home between her legs.

You lean forward angling your hand into her underwear as one hand lands into the slightly cold sand besides Ellie’s auburn hair as you avoid her clit and push one finger into her soaked entrance “f-fuck baby” she says through a tight throat “ffuck” both her hands wrap around your wrist as slide you glide in and out of her slowly.

Listening to her whimper as you messily lick around the oh her lips formed before spitting into her parted lips, watching as it drips down her tongue and then down her throat with each of her gasps that are raising in pitch urgently as you hit that spongy spot inside her.

Her brow furrowing and her eyes watering as her nails dig themselves into your forearm, her hips jerking as you push a second inside her warm plush cunt, your voice mixing with the squelches of pussy “aww you can take it mama” you reassure her and she just nods, the sand mixing with her hair as her warm tears runs down her face “y-yess mama g-unh please let me cum”

“hmm” your thumb comes up to play with her clit as you press your bare nipples to hers while you lick up the front of her throat, up the soft skin of her chin until you mouth is on hers while you speak “cum for me” against her lips.

Her back arches against the beach as she chants “yes” over and over while you continue to pound into her walls, them crushing your fingers “m-ama!” she squeals, squirting all over your fingers and falling limply, her head lulling to the side as her hands fold onto her belly, smiling lazily to herself with her eyelids half closed, high off your touch as you finish undressing her limp body and yourself, tossing the material to the side to lay in the sand.

Her heavy eyes watching as you slot yourself in between her legs, holding your eyes on hers as you let a ball of spit drip from your tongue directly into her thumping clit, making her gasp as you lower your centre against hers, her gentle moans mixing with the soft swooshing sounds of the waves hitting the shore,like music to your ears.

The gentle breeze making your nipples stiffen against your chest as the air leaves your body, the feel of her warmth against yours making you huff out shaky breaths, she felt so fucking good against you, your eyes watering as you wrapped both your arms around her thigh that was pressed against your torso, your cheek pressing against her calf as you placed soft kisses on the skin there while you glided back and forth into her.

Watching the oh shape her mouth formed as your bodies moved in tandem, slipping and sliding against eachother, making your wife feel so good, “e-ellie” you whisper a warning at the feel of her clit dancing against yours “me too m-uh metoo fuck” “mhmm” you whine picking up your pace, getting lost in how her freckled chest bounced under the moonlight with your movements, the salt of the sea filling your nostrils as your hips buck against hers, “don’t st-ugh” her face twisting in pleasure as her walls clamp against nothing, squeezing so tight as her legs spasm, kicking the sand, her chest trembling as her nails sink into the flesh of your hips “mommy” the gutteral moan that leaves your body at the name is enough to push her over the edge, her stomach spasming as she cums against you.

Her sensitive clit being beaten by you as tears leave your eyes and ellie’s name leaves your mouth, your whole body on flames as little spurts of liquid leaves you, making your body fall limp against hers, her heart beating rapidly against yours as you lay chest to chest, her palm resting against your back, both of your flesh kissing as you both pant, trying to catch your breaths “fuck, ellie” you laugh, in complete shock of how good you just felt, getting giggly from your high as you still feel her clit pitter pattering against yours softly “fuck” she just says back, weakly, in a daze “yeah” you laugh back.

You nuzzle your face into the side of her neck as her fingertips trace your body, peaceful in each others silence till you break it “what you say we go for a swim?” you whisper against her flesh and you can sense the smile that grows on her face “mhm” she hums, rolling over so now her toned body is above yours as she kisses your lips “good idea mama” she says, smirking and smacking the outside of your thigh harshly “Ellie!” you squeal as she stands up on shaky legs and sprints towards the water, you giggling as you chase after her…

Ellie’s back layed against the wet sand, hiding her face behind her hands shyly as you pulled her lower body into the cold water with you “mhm so pretty mama” you admired her porcelain skin against the moon as you held her hips just above the water, your tongue landing on her clit as you pulled it under with your mouth, the taste of Ellie and the salt water filling your senses as your nose hovered just above, allowing yourself to breathe as your tongue flicked harshly at her sensitive pearl, the water splashing as her thighs encased your face “ffu-god” she said through a tight windpipe “oh god” she chanted over and over her fingers in your wet hair pulling you closer, drowning you in her as you smiled to yourself, tilting your head to the side and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, the v-line on her stomach tensing up as her body moved restlessly.

The closer she gets, the thurther you drag her under, leaving the mark of where she once was in the sand as you your mouth seduces her just as a siren, only to drag her to the depths with you for your own pleasure.

Filling your mouth with water and lifting her narrow hips above the surface and letting the lukewarm liquid stream from your mouth onto her throbbing clit before landing a harsh spit of your saliva where your tongue once was.

You effortlessly slide two fingers inside her, one arm hooked around her leg, keeping her to you as her lower half dangles above the water, one of her legs laying limply in the pool as you pump in and out of her, harshly hitting that spongy spot inside her, making the poor girl sob as her delicate fingers wrap around your wrist.

Your eyes land on her leaking ones, watching the tears of pleasure roll down her blushed cheeks as she stutters “t-to much” she pleads for a break “too much yeah?” pulling out of her warmth, your gentle eyes flicker as a heavy handed slap lands to her clit making the pain shoot through her body and turn to pleasure as the plush of her thighs squeeze your hand.

Pulling her in with you as your cheeks hallowed, suckling on her clit, now only her head resting on the golden granules “fuck fuck fuck” she whispers as you nod against her, your thumbs rubbing soft circles onto her bare hips “dontstop!” She rushed out, her body tensing and curling in on itself as she tried to regulate her breathing with little gasps, both her hands in your hair as she trembled against the ocean “please” she begged over and over, completely gone from reality as the band in her belly snapped with a squeal of your name and her wet flesh squeezing the sides of your head and her fingers pulling at your locks, trying to get some relief as you continued to fuck her through her orgasm until you decided she had enough, pecking her clit, finally granting her the chance to breathe and pulling her thighs, picking her up till they wrapped around your waist as you palmed her ass.

Resting your head in the side of her neck and kissing the ticklish skin there as she slowly came back to reality “I love you so much” she spoke, her eyes closed and cheek pressing to yours as you echoed her words back to her “I love you too angel.”

You both just smiled contently, quietly feeling eachothers heart beat against one another’s “so much” you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes and finally falling, hitting her chest “hey, hey baby” she coos, gently grabbing your chin and making your eyes meet her green teary ones, her chapped lips parting as she speaks “I know, I know” she promises, placing soft kisses repeatedly to your lips as your breathing trembled. You calmed down a little and tried to kiss her back finally, feeling her smile against your mouth as the sun started to hit the bare flesh that you both shared.

“cold” Ellie muttered against your mouth, shivering at the temperature of the sea “oh yeah, lemme get you dressed mama” you stepped towards the shore, her body still wrapped around yours as you felt the sand between your toes and her body temperature regulate against yours, warming you up.

You tap her hip and her feet land in the sand as you pick up your blouse and slide it over her arms, kissing up her bare body with each button of the fabric till you peck her forehead and pull her white top over your body, her eyes watching you as you lay your skirt on the sand, sitting on it and beconing her towards you.

She nods, understanding you completely, without the need for words.

Her freckled face smiling as she grabs the bottle of champagne and sits onto your crossed legged lap, her knees at the side of your waist as her legs wrapped around you yet again, her eyes crinkle, smiling as she pops the cork off of the bottle and holding it to your mouth and watching intently as you take a sip “mmmh” you rolled your eyes.

She tilts her head like a bewildered puppy, her confusion only disappearing after she took a swig.

Her face twisting as she faked a gag “what did Annie sell us?” She laughed “diesel” you guessed, shrugging your shoulders and giggling watching as she still sips at it, smacking her lips “definitely diesel” she grins.

Digging the base of the bottle into the sand and pushing you down onto your back, the twinkle in her eye never faltering as you watch her grunt, rolling onto her back besides you, hip to hip, her fingers intertwining with yours “pretty isn’t it?” she asks as you, both of you slowing down, breathing in the smell of the beach as you watch the sun rise, lost in its beauty.

You tilt your head to face her “not as pretty as you” you poke her shoulder.

Watching the crimson appear on her freckled cheeks has your heart beating outta your chest, you can barely see her eyes she’s smiling that hard “cheesy” she giggles and kisses your shoulder “ugh you love it” you mock “i do” she whispers, mainly to herself as your hand reaches up and massages the back of her head, watching her eyes flutter close with a big stupid smile on your face “love you” she sighs against your shoulder “love you too ellie”…

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @bready101 @moonalumi @heygrimace @elliesmama @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries

#Spotify #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie x fem reader #wlw #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x y/n #ellie x masc reader #ellie x black!reader #ellie x you #ellie angst #ellie fluff

[hyperfixated-on-hensper]

Random Henry Danger canon things I think are wild:

Canonically, Henry, his parents, Piper, Charlotte, and Ray, have all drank Jasper's blood.

Jasper eats raw eggs.

The was a dude who was pooping in playgrounds was never caught. (Sidenote the dude playing him was Jace Norman's stunt double)

Jasper is scared of bunnies but not spiders.

Schwoz created a disease.

Nurse Cohort shaves Dr.Minyak's back hair for him.

Schwoz got married to a computer, then killed her.

Nurse Cohort also thinks Captain Man is hot (same).

Charlotte was trapped in Henry's dream for 4 hours.

There's cameras installed in Henry’s house and room.

Schwoz has had multiple relations with computers/Android women.

Jasper tazed himself multiple times (before and after) accidently telling Ray that Charlotte and Henry were 'dating' because he felt bad.

Henry doesn't wash his hands after using the bathroom.

Schwoz has tattoos.

There's mirrors in the man cave showers.

Ray also has a hot tub in his room.

Henry was a girl once.

Mole ppl exist.

Schwoz went skinny dipping with Ray.

Jasper has a metal plate in his head from an injury he got from teaching a donkey how to kick field goals.

Ray dispite being to space and seeing himself that the earth is in fact round, believes the earth is flat.

Jasper once tied up the janitor (thinking he was a villain) and tazed him repeatedly.

Ray was a theater kid.

Jasper has a belly button piercing.

There's a hot tub somewhere in the man cave.

Charlotte is dating a famous singer.

Henry and Ray robbed a bank.

Ray dressed in drag in an attempt to sneak into mom con.

Henry went to flower camp.

The Love Shuttle.

Jaspers' favorite meal is fish sticks and peas

Piper can't cook.

Schwoz has stolen 2 girlfriends from Ray.

Jasper became a dad briefly. (And was the best parent in Swellview, btw)

Eating grilled cheese makes Henry feel masculine. (Same)

All the main characters have been to jail.

Jasper participates in Yodeling Karaoke club and has won companions.

Charlotte would rather get eaten by a lion than kiss Henry.

Jasper drinks raw eggs.

RAY WAS PREGNANT!

Piper went to LA

Schwoz and Gooche took a vacation together in Palm Springs.

Jasper squeezes all the cream out of his doodle cake (nickelodeon version of twinkies) before eating them.

Henry ate a hamburger out of Jasper's underwear.

Jasper believes that Charlotte has a crush on him and has never once pursued it.

Sydney dresses Oliver every morning.

Ray doesn't use shampoo.

Jasper listens to Celine Dion.

Oliver can break dance.

Ray uses vibrating soap 💀

Jasper's grandma died at some point during the show, and Piper pulled a prank at her funeral.

#henry danger #jasper dunlop #henry hart #kid danger #dangerverse #ray manchester #captain man #charlotte page bolton #piper hart #jake hart

[tanuki-voice]

Your body ballooned when you gave in to eating junk. There was nothing like the feeling of being stuffed, feeling the sugars and saturated fats crawling through your veins. You loved it, were given over to it, totally addicted. In the end, the thing that broke down your inhibitions wasn't their relentless advertising, or even the clever marketing. It was the coupons.

It began simply: you would come home from work tired and hungry, and order fast food. To expedite the process, you'd downloaded all the value apps for the places in your area. The promises of free stuff and quicker ordering was too good to pass up. However, you'd forgotten to turn off notifications.

Every so often, your phone would ding with a new deal, a temptation, a siren's call to get you to order in exchange for deep discounts. In the beginning, these were free fries, an upgrade to a larger soda, a cheaper sandwich. All the same, on those late nights, it sounded good. Why not treat yourself once in a while?

Of course, soon, "once in a while" turned into "every few days", then "every other day", until you found yourself becoming slowly dependent on the offers, a bit of elation from every little perk. The more you ordered, the more their algorithm could read you, serving you exactly what you desired, calling you each day at the proper time. As if trained, you would feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and your mouth would begin to water. It was time to order.

The algorithm, of course, was not entirely in tune with your identity. It was a being designed to generate profit. By ordering so much, so often, you had managed to convince it you were a large household, and it reacted accordingly. The deals changed to suit this belief, family size meals, multi-packs, pastries by the dozen. You ordered them all, gorging yourself without end to fuel your ravenous appetite.

What began as a dinner routine extended to other meals, and soon after that you'd even find yourself going through the drive-thru for a quick snack between meals. To live in such gluttony, messily pigging out without end, shoveling food into your mouth day after day, brought you such pleasure. You found yourself going back, again and again, every day, consumed by the desire for more. Tonight was no different.

Reclined into your sofa, you awoke from a potent carb nap. Your lunch, two large pizzas, half a dozen donuts, an order of chicken wings, and a 40oz soda, had truly taken it out of you. Your enormous belly strained your comfy pajama pants, barely covered by an extra large t-shirt. Your hands comfortably rested on its pillowy softness. Through the mountains of squishy fat, you felt it rumble. It was time for dinner. And right on schedule, your phone buzzed.

With potent glee you snatched it up. Today, if you ordered in the next hour, you could get a meal for four, burgers, onion rings and milkshakes. The kicker: order now and get two more burgers free. Your payment details had never danced across the screen faster, and thirty minutes later three greasy bags full of food were dropped off judgement-free at your door.

You brought them back to the sofa and began to chow down. It had become tradition for you to eat without a shirt on by now; your meals had long since become too indecent to go without dirtying your clothes. Your tummy bared to the world, you picked up a burger in one hand and a fistful of onion rings in the other, and devoured. Like an animal you ate primally, as if starved, not knowing when your next meal may come. There was no one to tell you you couldn't, only you demanding that you would. Each mouthful was calorie rich, and each was washed down with more food, more milkshake, more trash.

You spared one of your grease covered hands to rub your stretch mark covered stomach. As you teased gassy burps and wind breaks from your middle, it growled, pleased, yet still expectant. Rarely was it ever satisfied. No matter how much you stuffed into it, it wanted more. It commanded you to fill yourself, to bring yourself to the brink, feeling as if you would pop. Your appetite controlled you, but under its warm, pleasant, hazy influence, you were happy to be its willing pawn.

The joy of feeding took priority over anything else. You felt like you could eat forever. Your body would adapt to the gluttonous demon you had become, one whose mind lived in its stomach. To eat was so simple, so thoughtless, mindless. You just let your belly think for you as you ordered, and let it bring you to pleasurable, mind-clearing bliss. Your body, particularly your ample midsection, was a temple, a testament to the food gods you worshipped. You loved to see it grow, to see it flow over you, to see it bulge, swell and fill your chairs and mattresses.

A loud belch stirred you from your enraptured state for just a moment to see that you'd gone through a majority of your offerings. There was a slight sting as you realized your feeding was nearing its end. Suddenly, without thinking, your hand reached for your phone again. Your stomach rumbled. It wouldn't be satisfied with just this, but would you really go over that line? Ordering even more, without thinking? Was this who you had become?

A notification dinged. If you ordered in the next thirty minutes, you could get a dozen eclairs for half price. Your bloated belly purred. Maybe it was who you'd become, and maybe you weren't ashamed of it. You had been, at one point, but that reluctance had faded. This was who you were, an insatiably hungry animal given over to your muses, and you loved every second of it. Dessert wouldn't hurt. And perhaps, maybe, even a little after that. You smiled and confirmed your delivery. You had a long, gluttonous night ahead of you, and you were raring to get started.

#feeding kink #feedee writing #feedism fic #wg fic #feederism fic

[mizusnose]

MORE COMPETENT MIZU FICS PLSSS

Tutor Mizu x Reader

okay okay okay SO: competent, a little mean and degrading Mizu who is top of her class and is the TA for organic chemistry with a side gig of private tutoring for money.

Summary: You’re failing orgo, so you decide to hire a tutor—little do you know it’s your class TA who you happen to have a massive crush on.

1.1k words, Slightly NSFW

Mizu arrives to your apartment five minutes late, and you lay down your hair and fix your sweater before you open the door. She’s tall against the backdrop of your hallway, a loosely slung bag around her broad shoulders sits against her waffle-knocked thermal, the golden chains around her neck dance in the light.

You invite her in, ask if she’d like some water, she accepts and you both eventually make it to your desk in the corner of your room.

She deftly sets up next to your laptop and notebook, her fingertips pink and long against the wood of the desk. You force yourself to look away, a thundering in your throat.

You never thought you’d be such a cliché: crushing on your TA. Yet, as Mizu wraps her palm around the glass of water and takes gulps of water, you can’t help but trace the movement: your eyes entranced and distant.

“Okay, aldol condensations.” She grunts against the wet of her mouth, wipes it off on her wrist, the cloth of her long sleeve, “What did you get on the last exam, and what’s your current grade.”

“Getting right into it.” You joke, crossing your legs and picking at the edge of your paper: your nerves apparent.

“I’m efficient.” Mizu says tartly, pushing her curled bang away from her face with the eraser end of her pencil.

You tell her your grade and your last exam results. The look on her face reveals nothing but you can feel a sense of something there. You wait as she starts writing something on her own notebook.

“My email, my number. If you have any questions outside of class or tutoring—I’ll respond within the hour.” She tears the paper and sets it in front of you. Her hands almost fit against the entire page, very nearly.

You nod, taking the paper and watch as she bends over to grab highlighters and colored pens from her bag. A stretch of skin above her hip is revealed before it’s covered as quickly as it appeared.

Mizu doesn’t ask about your flushed face, instead starts on the mechanisms behind carbonyls and electrophiles. You keep up as best as you can, and when you ask for a recap on certain parts, Mizu backs up easily, explains it slower and asks follow up questions. She’s a good tutor, and you think how steadfast she is.

Even in lecture, she comes over to you after and lets you ask her questions about that day’s concepts, draws the mechanisms out on your notebook so you can reference it later. In those moments, she’s pressed above you, a pillar you can rely on, someone you’d do anything for: including getting a good grade on your next exam.

Mizu has made it clear throughout the tutoring sessions: you’ve gotta do fairly well on the next exam to pass.

So, the days leading up to the exam, she’d accepted your invites for extra sessions. You’d convinced her to come over more often and stay longer with the prospect of a meal.

Take-out of her choice since you couldn’t cook. You were getting the hang of it all fortunately, and Mizu was the happiest you’d ever seen her as she ate. It was nice, nearly domestic, almost.

So when you messed up on a fairly simple reaction, the cold of Mizu’s eyes opened a wide feeling in your belly, in your gut.

“This is clearly wrong.” She’d say, the pencil marks smeared against her fingers, “You’re smarter than this.”

And you’d nod, and you’d apologize, your legs rubbing together. A heat boiling.

The next time Mizu came over, you’d bought a bottle of wine for the occasion: the last session before the exam.

“Oh?” Mizu’s hands wrapped around the neck of the bottle, an easy grip, hold steady and warm. Your jaw went slack, nearly noticeable had you not looked away and hummed a yup!

You didn’t drink often, so you made sure to get a sweet flavored red wine. Mizu’s mouth was a dark wipe of sangria, her stained lips a near perfect sight in your bedroom—against your desk.

“This is wrong.” She’d grunt.

And oh, you’d think, her voice.

“I thought that—“

“This is a primary alcohol. It reacts with an acyl halide, to form a..?”

And she’d look at you. Her eyes dilated and her cheeks and jaw flushed, a strand of fair sticking to her forehead.

“A..um, a carboxylic acid?”

And she’d frown, a cute scrunched up thing, and you’d stutter an apology, head light and mouth heavy.

“Wrong.” It was mean, the way she said it. An annoyed thing that pushed out of her easily, you shivered at it all “You know I didn’t tutor you all this time for you to fail.”

She pressed her hand against your forehead then, your cheek, your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

“Are you that drunk you’d forget everything I’ve taught you?”

Her touch was a heated weight, and you shook your head and she grabbed your chin, directed your gaze at her: an anger flared in her eyes, one barely veiled behind the alcohol.

“Hm?”

You kissed her then. It was easy, the way you leaned in and tasted her. The wine on her lips was still there and you wondered if her tongue was stained in it too—wanted to find out desperately suddenly. So you opened your mouth, and found yourself shocked as Mizu followed, her breath a hot push into your mouth, the roof of it.

She pressed you against your chair, into the bend of the back and straddled you.

“Hah.” Her lips were puffy, a faint velvet. You watched as she observed your face, a hesitance there that dissolved when you let your jaw fall, mouth open, “fuck.”

She kissed you this time, an insistence that made you press your knees together and squirm. The kisses only became heavier, longer, then quick, then slow again.

By the time you’d both calmed down, Mizu’s dress shirt was ripped open, the bones of her chest exposed. A faint mole visible beneath her collarbone. You kissed it and left a mark.

“This isn’t very helpful for you right now.” Mizu commented. Her lips wet and dark. You wanted more, “Your exam..”

“‘ts okay.” You reassure, holding the small of her back in your palm.

She rolled her eyes, set both her hands on either side of your head and gave you a glare, “You better not fucking fail.”

You grinned, a dopey, kiss-happy one.

“Okay.” you whisper, kissing her once more.

The day your exam results arrive, you get the highest score, and Mizu eats you out as a reward.

———

So this was very long, but i kinda got really into it at the end so.. thanks for the ask!

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x fem!reader #ask me anything #tutoring

[unique-high]

Hi love 💕 I would like to request a fic where y/n gets pregnant and Mark from NCT is just so soft and loving and just completely takes care of her. Btw thank you for writing all genres for us black girls and making us feel loved and seen 🥺🤍

My baby is having a baby | Mark Lee x blk fem reader

word count: 847

sorry for any mistakes.

Note: Omg I love this! Thank you so much for requesting. And awe you're welcome. 😭 I just want black girls to have nice things too. 🥹

Mark: He loves your little round belly. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, always touching your belly and caressing it. One of the things Mark loves to do is lay his head on your belly and talk to the baby. He was amazed at how you and he created another human being and how it was growing inside you each day. “I want another baby,” Mark says one night in bed as he’s rubbing cocoa butter onto your stretch marks. You laughed at him saying, “We haven’t had the first baby yet, Mark.”   Your boyfriend smiles a little saying, “I mean after this little one.”

Mark: Ever since becoming pregnant, you hadn’t felt your prettiest with the stretch marks and the gained weight and how your body was changing. But Mark loves your body even more now that you're carrying his child. One morning you cried because you couldn’t fit into your favorite pair of jeans anymore saying how fat you had gotten. Mark pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, his hands gently running up and down your sides as he speaks to you in the softest voice ever. “Hey.” Mark says, “When can get you another pair of jeans.”   You shake your head pouting into his chest. “I want these jeans!”      Mark's hands were still moving up and down your sides. “Okay, love we can get another pair of jeans like those.” 

Mark: Before your stomach got bigger and rounder. You would wear Mark's hoodies all the time because they smelt like him. But now the hoodies wouldn’t go past your belly. You cried to Mark about it. So one day he went to the store and bought some larger hoodies. He wore them first leaving his scent and favourite cologne behind. He gives them to you. “You do too much for me.”  You say as you put on one of the hoodies.   Mark cups your face, he's smiling. “You deserve it, baby.” 

Mark: Being pregnant, you ate a lot and craved the strangest of things in the middle of the night. Like tonight, you craved pickles and chocolate sauce again. You wake up Mark, feeling a little bad about it. But he doesn't mind at all. “What is it, Y/n?” he asks you, voice groggy, as he rubs sleep from his eyes.     “I'm hungry.”   You pout. Mark nods, gets out of bed, slips on his slippers, and grabs his car keys and wallet. “Prickles and Chocolate sauce, right?” He asks with a yawn.

Mark: Today you and Mark were going to the autumn festival. It's been hard for you to put on your own shoes and tie them since your belly was in the way. You sat on the little stool near the front door. Mark was kneeling down at your feet, slipping your socks on you, and then putting your shoes on you and tying them nicely. “Mark~ I don't deserve you.”  You say.     “But you do deserve me,” Mark says as he reaches up, bopping your cute nose, making you giggle.

Mark: He's in love with every version of you. But his two favorite versions of you are when you're sleeping and when you're smiling and dancing around. Now you're pregnant. This version of you was going to be just as special. On the days when you worry about being a bad mommy.  Mark gently scolds you saying, “Ah, don't say something that's not true. You're going to be an amazing mother. Don't think that way.” He then wraps you in a comforting hug, pecking your face with sweet little kisses and telling you how much he loves you with each kiss. 

Mark: Sometimes you're exhausted because of your pregnancy so you can’t do things you wanted to like during your hair. And Mark knew how you liked keeping your hair done. He’d watch a bunch of YouTube videos and even took classes on how to do black hair so he could help make things easy for you. It’s raining outside. The soft flow of Neo Soul plays from a Bluetooth speaker, you sat between Mark’s legs as he did your hair into two strand twist. “You really didn’t have to do this for me.” You say.   Mark puts some product on your hair. “But I wanted to, Y/n.”    You couldn’t help but smile and feel warm all over. Mark was the best guy you ever had been with and you were so grateful to be having a child with him.

Mark: He couldn't wait to see who the baby would resemble. “I really hope the baby has your nose and eyes. I really love your nose and eyes.” Mark says as he's helping you with nesting.   “I hope our little one has your smile! Like that would be the cutest thing ever.” You said gushing. You loved Mark's smile a lot. You will never forget that big excited smile on his face when you told him you were pregnant.  He picked you up and twirled you around the bedroom, saying, “My baby is having a baby!” 

#kpop fanfic #kpop x black reader #kpop x ambw #Mark Lee x reader #mark lee x black reader #Mark Lee x y/n #mark lee imagines #nct imagines #mark lee scenarios #Nct x poc #mark lee x you #Mark Lee x black female reader #Kpop x reader

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 19th: Scifi/tech | Electric Eye - Judas Priest | Bewildered a/n: eddie pov, eddie & dustin friendship, dustin & steve friendship, and an excuse for me to weasel one of my favorite steve headcanons into something. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

After his release from the hospital and the unfortunate news that his trailer had been destroyed, Eddie goes from functionally homeless to having multiple spaces that feel like home. 

He’s been all but adopted by Claudia at this point, an offer extended immediately after hearing the version of the story everyone’s agreed upon— that the ground split open and Eddie nearly ate it pushing Dustin out of the way. It’s not quite the truth, but the theme is the same and anyone who’s willing to sacrifice themself for her son is welcome any time. 

Especially when he’s been called upon to help with Dustin’s science fair project. It’s out of Eddie’s league a bit, the actual science part, but he and his mechanical brain prove helpful. Kinda nice, actually, to use those hotwiring skills for good. 

Of course, it also helps that the government set him and Wayne up in a modest two bedroom house down the road, and that Eddie can practically smell Claudia's cooking when the windows are open. Like Garfield, he’s drawn to the Henderson house with the scent of a fresh lasagna. 

Bellies full and completed project sitting confidently on the kitchen table for tomorrow, they’re watching Star Wars movies in Dustin’s living room, one after another, and he feels just a touch like a traitor. Star Trek will always have his heart and Wayne can never know. 

“How’d you get into Star Wars anyways?” Eddie asks, sprawled across Dustin’s couch. 

“Can you believe Steve actually got me into them?” Dustin replies, curled up on the recliner. 

There’s an infinite number of ways a child might be introduced to the Star Wars franchise— a parent, a trailer before another movie, a carrier pigeon dropping a flier at their fucking feet— and they’re all more believable than Steve Harrington introducing Dustin Henderson to the sci-fi epic. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie turns with wide eyes and a crooked grin to face Dustin. “What?”

“I know, right? It was uh, okay this is a little embarrassing.” Dustin cuts himself off, justifying some secret Eddie somehow hasn’t been told yet. 

He knows about the Mind Flayer and the Russians, and all the other Dungeons and Dragons lore that’d lived beneath his feet for years. What could possibly be left to make Dustin cringe like that? 

“Oh, do tell.” Eddie raises an eyebrow and gestures with an arm towards the expanse of space between them. “Floor is yours, young Bard. Spin the tale.”

Dustin rolls his eyes and throws popcorn at him. He tries to catch it in his mouth but he’s never been that coordinated. 

“It’s not really a tale. A few years ago, there was this school dance, the Snow Ball. I got all amped up, Steve helped with my hair, and then the night was a total fucking dud. Nancy danced with me which was like, super awesome of her, but I felt like shit after anyways.”

Eddie listens with rapt attention, pissed off that Dustin had such a relatable middle school experience and intrigued at this new sliver of Steve lore. Not that he cares. Obviously. Why would he? The idea of Steve helping Dustin get ready for the Snow Ball doesn’t conjure up words like adorable at all. 

He nods him on. 

“And uh, I called Steve the next day. He came over and we had pizza and he brought some of his favorite movies he thought I’d like. Star Wars had spaceships so obviously, easy choice. And here we are now with Return of the Jedi.” 

Okay, yep, that’s gonna be hard to tamp down the next time he sees Steve. Stomping his ill-advised crush into the ground beneath his Rebooks has been hard enough but now? Motherfucker. 

It’s also not lost on him that Dustin chose these movies today. Eddie feels like he’s stepping into some tradition that doesn’t belong to him, but he can’t squash the kid’s enthusiasm with his own insecurity. 

Instead, Eddie goes for the low hanging fruit.  

“Wow. Gotta tell you man, that’s maybe weirder than finding out about the monsters and shit. Steve’s favorite movie is Return of the Jedi?” 

Dustin snorts and laughs, toothless and free. Happiness isn’t new for Dustin, not anymore, but it’s still nice to see after all they’ve been through. 

“Well, that’s one of them. He always calls it ‘the ones with the teddy bears’, so people assume he means Return of the Jedi. But I know the truth. That dork loves Caravan of Courage.”

Eddie flips through his mental catalog of sci-fi movies and lands on a VHS cover: a couple of humans, a few Ewoks, and something that looks like a machine gun. If he remembers correctly, it has something of a cult following but wasn’t touted as a high point in the series. 

… And it’s Steve’s favorite. The one with the teddy bears. 

“Wait… what?!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie month #eddie month prompts #dustin henderson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs

[witchofhimring]

Younger and more beautiful

This series is being edited. I feel Alys came off as one dimensionally evil and the reader as a pretty flat character. So this will be heavily edited.

Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear

Pairings:

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Part 2: Until there comes another

Part 4: To cast you down and take all you hold dear

Warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of stillbirth/miscarriages, death

Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear.

To this day the words that both enthralled and haunted the Queen hovered over her dark head like a specter. It echoed as a constant reminder. She had become Queen and Alys had never felt more victorious. But every time the elation came, the rest would come roaring back.

Younger and more beautiful

To cast you down and take all you hold dear

As she sat proudly on her throne the ladies danced bellow. Alys had made sure that every one of her handmaidens were either less attractive or older than herself. Helped if they were both. But she could not banish every woman who could capture her husbands eye. Every time her husbands eyes drifted over the crowd Alys wondered if they were searching for a woman. She tried to convince herself that she was young, beautiful, and the King loved her. One of the Tyrell girls, sporting a beautiful head of auburn curls and sparkling blue eyes, ascended the stairs. She was on the arm of her father. Alys's fingers curled into her palm. "Lady Redwine." Alicent Hightower walked towards the woman. Of course the meddling old hag invited the woman. If Alys had her way the Dowager Queen would be out by now. But Aemond loved his mother. Anxiety clawed at Alys as she knew Alicent was the only person left in her way. Y/n was locked away and Daenerys was Gods know where. "Son." Without even using titles, Alicent advanced up the steps and embraced her son. All Alys received was a cold look. Alys had thought that maybe the Dowager Queen would take her side. After all, it was well known that Alicent did not get along with Y/n. But it seemed her dislike of the thrones newest occupant outweighed the old. One day, Alys would deal with her.

Her face ached from her daily ritual. Alys scrutinized each inch of her skin. There where no spots blemishing her pale skin. No wrinkle in sight. Satisfied, she sat back in her chair. She was still as lovely as when Aemond first fell in love with her. Pale fingers traced over her slightly swollen belly. Soon Y/n would know that Alys had accomplished what she had not. Satisfaction dwelled within her as she thought of Y/n's less than flattering body. Alys had always been careful to watch what she ate. No morsel of food passed her lips without thorough inspection. She doubted Y/n had been as vigilant. Hence why Alys never felt any pity for the woman. Y/n had taken her position for granted and lost everything. That was her fault, not Alys's.

Aemond Targaryen entered, still dressed in his kingly finery. Alys felt desire in the pit of her belly. Elegantly she got to her feet, the emerald train following her. Aemond gave her a sultry smile, noticing immediately that she wanted him. "My love." She sighed and placed her arms around his neck. Kisses littered his cheeks as they made towards the bed. "Stay with me tonight?" Alys's hair flowed down her back out of its up do. She knew what his answer would be, he had never once denied her. Alys was laid out of the former Queen's bed and pulled her husband close.

The contractions started early in the morning. By midday Alys was doubling over in pain. They had given her a small draft of milk-of-the-poppy and herbs, but it did little do dull her agony. Once nightfall fell Alys could barely breath. "Just one more push Your Grace!" The midwife could see the head. With one last almighty push Alys's child made their way into the world. Alys collapsed onto the sheets, exhausted but feeling elated. She had done it. She had given the King his heir. Now they would accept her as Queen. Soon Y/n and her bastard daughter would get word of her victory. "Hand him to me." Alys had forced herself to sit up. The midwifes looked at eachother before the bravest among them spoke. "My Queen, it is a girl."

Aemond looked down at their newborn daughter, Princess Aelena. Alys could hardly look at the baby. Her daughter was small with silver hair. A true Targaryen, but not a boy. Aemond picked up the girl and cradled her against his chest. "She's beautiful." His voice was quiet. Alys could not tell what her husband thought. He showed no outward signs of displeasure, but that did not mean Aemond was happy. Sometimes he was so hard to read. "I am so sorry." Alys cast her eyes downwards, praying he would not be angry with her. Aemond placed the baby down in her crib. With a sigh he walked over to Alys and sat down next to her. "I am happy to have a daughter. And we conceived her quickly, sons will follow."

"Yes. sons will follow."

It had been a dark day, the sun remaining hidden. On that day Alys, in all her curiosity, snuck into the woods. She had heard legends of a wood witch in its depths. Alys was not frightened, had never been frightened. When she wanted something she got it. Deeper she went. As as she treated along the forest floor she noticed there was no noise. Not even the twittering of a bird. The air became denser and her head started to spin. Still, the stubborn young woman pushed on. Finally, in the midst of a great swamp was a hut. It sat right in the middle. Through the thin fog Alys realized that crossing would be no easy challenge. She paced around for a while and thought of what to do. Eventually she noticed there was a path of rocks barely visible above the murky water. Tentatively she placed a foot on one of them. It was stable enough. Steeling herself, Alys set out. Rock over rock she went. She practically flew the last few steps. There was no door. Just some cloth hung, as if that could do the witch any good. She brushed the fabric aside and looked in. There was a fire in the center. But that was all she could make out. "You have come." Alys swallowed back a gasp. From the corner emerged a cloaked figure. She was old, very old. 'Step in." Alys obeyed.

"Are you sure this is wise My Queen." Questioned a meek Lady. Alys sat on her chair, crown on head. She had brought baby Aelena with her today. So that Lady Floris might see that she had triumphed over her former mistress. Floris Baratheon had been living in a self imposed exile since Y/n had left. But the King had ordered her to return to court. Today, Alys would show her who was Queen. "Lady Floris." Floris was only a little younger than Y/n, but she looked younger than Alys had expected. Much to Alys's disgruntlement it seemed Y/n's death had not dulled her beauty. She had dark brown hair that flowed behind her like a veil. Brown eyes held a golden hue to them. Unblemished skin showed none of the wears of the past four years. What was even more insulting was the fact she wore black. As a mere lady, Y/n was entitled to no more than a few weeks of mourning from her close friends and family. But she noticed many in black. They protested that black was quite fashionable these days, but Alys knew better. "My Lady, we welcome you to court." Alys straightened herself. Floris held a look of cool disinterest. Her arrogance angered the Queen. Then an idea occured to the Queen. A smile curled her lip. "My Lady. The King and I have considered this, and believe that you are the best candidate to act as governess to Princess Aelena. As you did such a good job looking after his bastard daughter I think you should agree." Rage flashed through the lady's eyes. Of course Alys would never let Floris be alone with her precious girl. Others would keep an eye on her. It would give her great satisfaction to have the lady toil away in service to the rightful princess.

Floris watched the baby tottle towards one of the ladies. She was still so so tired from all the errands Alys had her do. It seemed Alys was determined to make her pay. Floris reckoned that Alys would try and break her down and take all she held dear. But little did the foolish Queen realize this was not a surrender. Floris had contacted supporters of the deceased Queen to put the rightful heirs on the throne. She just had to spy and get what information she could. When the King appeared all three curtsied. The baby giggled and grabbed towards her father. Floris felt a thrill of anger as he cuddled the baby. Not at Aelena, but Aemond Targaryen. Here he was pretending he only had one daughter when there was another whom he had banished. Hatred for Aemond and Alys stirred in her heart. After everything her dear friend had been forced to suffer made her want to weep with rage. She hoped that one day the two of them world be forced to suffer as much as the late Queen had.

That was when an idea occured to her.

"I shall be Queen!" Alys was overwhelmed with the possibility her future might bestow on her. Queen. Oh to be the greatest woman in the land! But the witch just shook her head. "I am not done." Alys froze. "I shall not be Queen?" "You shall." "Then what is the rest?" And the words that haunted Alys for the rest of her days were uttered. "Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear." As Alys stepped out of the hut she swore to herself she would never let that happen.

And with that, she sealed her destiny.

Six months later:

Planning a rebellion had been easier than expected. Likely they never expected the King's daughter to rebel against her. Daenery's had always been an obedient daughter. Her father was her lord and King. The made who took her on Vhagar, read her stories and night and danced with her when she was little. But she loved her mother more, who had fought for her till the end. At nineteen Daenerys was no longer a little girl. Aemond Targaryen was no longer her world. In the past four years she had gone from princess to rebel. "My Queen. A letter." Viserys Targaryen, her betrothed, handed her a letter. She saw the wax "F" stamped on the front. She smiled. "It is from Lady Floris. It's time, and I think you have a dragon to claim."

Note: Last part is up next!

Taglist:

@watercolorskyy

@bellstwd

#aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x alys #aemond targaryen x alys rivers #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader angst #aemond angst #aemond x reader angst #alys rivers

[chocolatechubby]

Maybe it was the glass of heavy cream and dozen gingerbread men I ate just before bedtime. Or maybe it was the fact that it was Christmas Eve, and the residue of waiting up for Santa Claus hadn’t diminished in the 23 years since I was six years old. Maybe it was the hard on that wouldn’t go away if I thought about growing fat and round. Whatever it was, I couldn’t sleep. I reluctantly pulled my bloated body from my warm bed to take a piss and a crap in the bathroom. On the way to the john, I passed the Christmas tree in the living room. The shiny packages underneath danced with the reflections of twinkling lights. I’d made quite a haul this year. I was pretty sure the small neatly wrapped package in the front was an Ipod from my mom. And I was pretty sure that the envelope from my ex-partner was a membership to a gym. My gaining sixty pounds had a lot to do with our break-up. It was nice that we were still friends. “Funny…” I thought. “The thing I REALLY want Santa to bring me won’t fit under a tree.”

When I had finished in the bathroom, I took a long look at myself in the mirror. The 160lb gym rat was gone. There in front of me was a 220lb jock-gone-soft. Since I had continued to go to the gym, I was thick and solid. The roundness of my face was beginning to cut away my cheek definition. The beginnings of a double chin made my cock jump. The definition in my arms was beginning to fade: I loved putting on sleeveless shirts and seeing the thick round guns that were once defined biceps and triceps stretching through. My legs were growing huge. The size 38 pants were straining to keep my thighs in. And I had a real belly. Not the beginning gut I was so proud of in college, but a thick waist protruding over my jeans and a noticeable round mound that jutted out from my plump tits and curved forward six inches. It had gotten a number of rubs and stares from my co-workers over the past few weeks. I thought my pecker was going to fall off from all the jerking off I did in the office restrooms after each “Woah! When’s the baby due?” or “You’d better lay off the holiday food Chris!” But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to look like all of those fellas that I admired online. I wanted people to move out of the way when I walked down the street. I wanted to look in the mirror and be awed by my girth. I reached down in my shorts and began massaging my cock. I imagined what it would be like to have to work pass mounds of belly fat just to touch it. I could feel my hard on growing, and my dick was responding to both my touch and my fantasy. It wouldn’t be long now—at least not for the explosion from my balls. The weight gain would take more time.

As I was going for climax, I heard a sound. Not from me but coming from the living room. At first faint, it grew louder—a slow and steady rise and fall. A snore? It sounded like someone snoring. Maybe somehow the air conditioner had turned itself on. I listened a little more intently. No, this was a HUMAN sound. Someone had broken into my apartment! I pulled up my shorts, looked around for a blunt object, grabbed the toilet brush, and headed towards the sound. As I rounded the corner, I was not prepared for what I saw. There in my leather armchair next to the Christmas tree, snoring to high heaven was Santa Claus.

Only it wasn’t Santa Claus. I mean he was dressed in a beautiful red suit—far superior to all those costumed Santas that you see in department stores. This suit looked like it had been tailored for him: luxurious and warm—trimmed in ermine and leather. It fit his big round frame to a “t.” He had to weigh 350, if a pound, and his thick beard was close-cropped, neatly trimmed, and a deep auburn like the wavy hair that curled from under his fur cap. This guy couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years old. And he was gorgeous. During my whole relationship with my ex, Zach, I had never cheated. But I will admit—especially towards the end when he started nagging more about the weight—I had serious fantasies about dudes like the one asleep in my easy chair, but they never included being robbed by them.

Next to him on the floor was a big, empty red velvet sack. I had to admit: this guy had class. I’d read stories in the newspaper about thieves breaking into houses dressed as Santa Claus and taking people’s presents. I never thought it would happen to me. Pictures of the Grinch stuffing Cindy Lou Who’s Christmas tree in his sack crowded my brain. Well this sucker wasn’t getting MY Ipod without a fight!

I tiptoed over to where the hot thief was snoring, and I kicked his engineer boot and stepped back—toilet bowl brush held high. “Hey you!” I shouted. The guy stirred. I gave him my best grimace and said: “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my place?!” He opened one eye and peered up at my brush and me. He grinned (and of course he had a killer smile) and said, “What are you going to do? Tidy Bowl me to death?”

I wasn’t quite ready for such a laid-back attitude. It took me aback for a moment. “No, smart ass…” I answered finally. “… I’m going to call the police and have you hauled off to spend Christmas in jail—that’s what I’m going to do!!!” I bellowed triumphantly. “Oh, and for future reference: Santa has a WHITE beard—not red! You are NO Kris Kringle.”

“Actually, his beard isn’t white. It’s silver. And you’re right…I’m not Kris Kringle. He’s my dad. I’m KARL Kringle—his youngest son.”

Of all the responses in all the scenarios that I could imagine, not one of them included that particular statement. I stood in shock with my mouth open. He fumbled around for a bit and spoke: “This is what I get for breaking the first rule of Christmas Delivery: Don’t Fall Asleep. It’s just that it’s been a long night and seeing as this is my Last Stop and all, I couldn’t help myself.” He yawned and started hauling his big belly out of my chair “Look, don’t set off your loaded brush—I’m just looking for my wallet.” He was even more appealing standing. He was a fireplug: about my height (which made him somewhat short), he reminded me of Sean Astin as Samwise Gamgee in “The Lord of the Rings”: much bigger, but as cute as he could be. He patted himself down, searching around his big gut and barrel chest for a bulge. “Ahh, here it is!” He pulled out a simple leather wallet and flipped it open. “See.” He said.

I slowly inched forward and took the wallet out of his chubby hand. There he was, smiling with rosy cheeks. NORTH POLE DMV: Driver’s Permit was printed in white at the top of a red and green card. “May operate cars, trucks, motorcycles, snow skis and High-Capacity Sleighs” was prominently placed in the lower right hand corner.

“Real cute” I smirked. “So you’re a clever bandit. I’m sure your cell mate will get a real kick out of your sense of humor.”

“Man, some things don’t change, do they?” He smiled. “You’re still a closet believer posing as a skeptic aren’t you? I remember when you were six years old and wanted ‘Dream Date Ken’. You said to yourself, ‘I’ll believe in Santa if he brings me Ken.’ When you didn’t see it under the tree that Christmas morning, you were really sad, but you said, ‘I knew he wasn’t real.’ Boy were you surprised when you found it…”

“Hidden in your stocking!”

“Hidden in my stocking!”

We said it at the exact same time. My mouth was agape. “How did you know that?” I uttered. “Because I asked Dad if I could put it there.” Karl said. “I was twelve. Dad had been training me to take a route of my own. I had been coming with him since you were a baby—watching you grow up. I wanted you to work harder to trust your beliefs.”

I stumbled to my couch and sat down. This was incredible! So it was true: Santa really DID exist. “Yup.” Karl said, as if he’d read my mind. “Only the doubters have got part of the story right: he DOESN’T circle the world and deliver toys in one night. He hasn’t done that in a few hundred years. He has help from his sons.”

“Sons” I gasped, with emphasis on the “s.” “You mean there’s more of you?”

“Oh yeah” said Karl. “It's the family business. There’s Kris Jr., Kevin, Kurt, Klaus, Kyle, Keith, and Kwame.”

“Kwame?” I asked.

“Yeah, a little incident with dad and an African Queen a few years back…we don’t talk about that.” He whispered.

“So we divide up the earth and each take a chunk. Dad spends most of his time these days with the kids that need him most. He took India and New Orleans this year.”

“I see…” I said. “And you got my area.”

“Well, not so much GOT, as CHOSE your area. I told you. I’ve been watching you for many years. I’ve been waiting for that jerk of a boyfriend of yours to exit the picture. I’ve been crushing on you for a while now. I happen to be gay.”

“Oh.” My dick was jumping at regular intervals now. “Are all of you uh…?”

“Gay?” He said. “I doubt it. Nobody’s talking so we don’t really know. I’m pretty sure Kwame is. He keeps picking San Francisco as one of his stops. Listen, do you mind if I make myself comfortable?” he asked. “Uh…no.” I stammered, still trying to make sense of the fact that I had a big, bearded Santa Claus in my living room that was hot for me. “Great” he said and proceeded to undo his belt and buttons. His velvet coat fell to the floor, revealing the magnificent fat physique bulging from his white undershirt. His big, gorgeous arms were covered with a layer of soft red fur, and I could see tendrils of the same curling from under the neckline of his t. He began playing with his nipples as he slowly moved his ball belly towards me. “Listen,” he said again. “…do you mind if I make YOU more comfortable?”

“Uh…no.” was my startled reply.

We stood face to face. The heat between us was more intense than anything I’d ever felt before. He smelled of smoldering fires and apples and cinnamon. He leaned in, and I felt his cock. “So THAT’S what’s meant by Christmas Sausage! “I thought. He pulled me into him and whispered, “I’ve been waiting 29 years for this” and moved his tongue over my lips and into my mouth. He tasted like warm cocoa. His belly met mine and I moaned at the solid thickness of his girth. Our tongues swirled together in a hot dance that left me weak and energized at the same time. I could have stayed like that forever.

Karl ran his thick hands over my nipples, slightly squeezing them between his fingers. He slowly traveled down to my belly and began massaging it with both hands. I was in heaven. “Such a beautiful starter belly. I was so hot for you when you started putting on weight that I had to stop working in the toyshop—couldn’t concentrate. Kept making Barbie dolls with penises!”

“Oh.” I mumbled—trying to get his tongue back in my mouth.

“And now I’m with you” he said, caressing my cheek. “And we’ve got all night. He leaned over and kissed my gut. “I’m going to give you that present that won’t fit under the tree.”

For a moment I was stirred from my reverie. Had he really the power to know what my deepest desires were? I tested him. “Oh yes? “I whispered in his ear. “What might that be.”

“Don’t be coy Chris” he smiled. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. By dawn, you will be fed, fucked, and fat as a house. Are you ready to get started?”

TO BE CONTINUED

#ccstories

[2hightocare]

SNOW IMPRINTS ✷

“I’m grown, I’m not dipping my dick in the snow to compare dick sizes.”

Synopsis: What was supposed to be a family reunion, ends in comparing dick sizes.

Genre: established relationship! married au!

Pairings: DILF!Jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings: Jungkook being whipped as fuck, Jungkook being a girl dad! (Cute.) a lot of cussing, mentions of sex, mentions of consumption of alcohol, found family.. Jungkook is just such a cutesy dramatic baby!

a/n: hai… I disappeared for a bit but happy new year!! I read “unravel me” and it inspired me to write this super short blurb so enjoy Jungkook being a golden retriever husband. (Ignore all mistakes, wrote this while high) 🤍 Word count: 1.4k

“I’m literally the biggest DILF,” your husband starts again. Jungkook points to himself while Iseul giggles in his arms.

“If you don’t shut the fuc—“ Yoongi irks.

“No cussing!” You and all the wives jump in. A heavy sigh leaves your mouth because this is like the hundredth time you have told all the boys not to cuss when the kids are around. Not since what happened when you decided to babysit Ye joon.

“Jeon, get your ass in here!” You shout from the kitchen, hoping your husband can hear you from upstairs. You stare at the empty cookie jar you had refilled yesterday, and there was only one reason why they were gone.

“What, baby?! What’s wrong?” Jungkook runs down the stairs with Iseul in one hand and Ye joon in the other. The two babies laugh at the bouncing. “Did you eat all the cookies!?” You glare at Jungkook, your hands on your hips as your husband looks everywhere but your eyes.

“Actually… Taehyung stole some when he left Ye joon.” He explains as if that would change anything. Knowing Jungkook for ten years, you know damn well Taehyung maybe took three cookies and the other fifty Jungkook ate them.

“No more cookies.” You announce with a shrug not wasting any time and move closer to your daughter who’s in your husband's arms, who stands there with mouth agape.

“No mowe cookies dada!” Iseul giggles as she makes grabby hands for you to pick her up, wiggling out of Jungkook's arms as you grab her.

“Now what do you mean no more cookies?” Jungkook switches Ye joon to his other arm, mouth hanging open dramatically. “There were like three packs in there, and you ate them in a few hours, so no more cookies.” You dance around the kitchen with Iseul in your arms, her chubby arms wrap around your neck as she laughs non-stop. Contrast from Jungkook on the other side of the white counter.

“What the fuck, baby?” Jungkook literally whines as Ye joon giggles, his little hands in his mouth, drool dripping down his chubby cheeks. “Come here, baby, come with your aunt.” You make your way to Ye joon only to stop in your tracks.

“Fuck!” Ye joon beams, clapping his hands, smiling up at you with all his baby teeth showing, as you stare at him dumbfounded.

“No, no, no, don’t say that.” You quickly interfere as Jungkook is staring at you with wide eyes. “Fuck! Fuck!” Ye joon laughs as Iseul joins in.

“Fuck!” Another giggle.

“This is so your fault!” You point to your husband who is trying so hard not to laugh. “Don’t laugh!” You put a hand over your mouth, trying to hide your amusement.

“I’m not— fuck!” Jungkook slaps a hand over his mouth.

“How the fuck are we going to explain this to Taehyung and Ari?” you sigh with a slight laughter in your tone.

“Fuck!”

“We couldn’t get Ye joon to stop saying the f word for like two weeks straight; daycare was seriously about to kick him out,” Taehyung sighs dramatically as Yoongi stares at Eunbi, his wife who stares down at her tiny belly. Wondering if that’s going to be his case in the future.

“Let’s pray for the new baby to not come out like this little beast,” Jimin squeezes Ye joon’s cheeks, making him squirm in Taehyung’s arms.

Ye joon, three years old, Taehyung and Ari’s child, the second-born from the group and the most mischievous, he really doesn’t listen to anyone but his parents, besides Jungkook and you. His godparents. Jiho, first-born, Seokjin’s and Lora’s child. He’s about to turn ten in January. Iseul, third-born, Jungkook's and your child, two years old and the only girl at the moment.

Besides Eunbi, who’s three months pregnant, no one else is going to have kids anytime soon, well, that’s what they say.

“It’s cold; let's go inside, girls.” You suggest as you pick up Iseul from her dad's arms, as the girls stand up following your movements inside the house through the glass door.

“Give Ye joon to Ari!” Hoseok hushes as he swats Taehyung on the shoulder. “Babe! Take Ye joon!” Taehyung shouts. Ari laughs at how her husband has Ye joon up in the air like the Lion King waiting to be taken.

“Come with mama.” Ari picks up the boy in a puffer jacket, making him look like a big marshmallow before skipping inside, joining all the girls inside.

“So sad Seokjin and Namjoon couldn’t come... they really decided on that cabin instead of us, crazy.” Jimin whines as he takes a sip of his beer before placing it in the hole he made in the snow before snuggling into his sweater.

“Honestly, I would take being in a cabin with my wife a hundred times more than being here,” Jungkook playfully jokes, “imagine the bomb-ass sex in the woods,” He smirks with the rim of his bottle on his lips, making the rest of the boys roll their eyes.

“Crazy how y/n has you wrapped around her finger,” Yoongi chimes in, blowing into his hands as if it would make them non-cold.

“Not even.” Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes.

“Dude, you’re so whipped, like it’s so fucking crazy,” Taehyung joins in, as he laughs when the boys hum in agreement.

“Dude, you tried to wrap her in bubble wrap when she was pregnant because you swore she would fall and hurt herself,” Hoseok recalls two years ago. “She could’ve fallen down the stairs; I needed to take precautions,” Jungkook tries to defend himself but fails miserably.

“What the fuck is that for?” You question your husband who enters the main door with a giant bubble wrap roll.

“This is for your safety, baby, can’t have you falling and hurting yourself, so I’m wrapping the whole house like it’s a Christmas present.”

You stare at your husband who is speaking literally, “Jeon, you are not wrapping anything,” you warn him.

“It’s either wrapping this house up or I’m wrapping you in bubble wrap for nine months... your choice baby,” Jungkook shrugs, looking down at your laying body on the couch, hands rubbing down your two-month pregnant belly.

“Be extremely for real.” Your mouth drops open dramatically.

“Even Iseul in her two years of life has you pining after her; imagine when she gets a boyfriend.” Jimin brings up, almost sending Jungkook into a cardiac attack right there and there.

“Fuck no! No boys till she’s forty!” Jungkook points his finger to Jimin. “Or girls either!” He finishes with a pout, making the boys howl in laughter.

“Excuse the fuck outta me!” Jungkook shoots up from his chair.

Somehow the conversation steered with a lighthearted joke about who was the biggest, and suddenly everyone ganged up on Jungkook, talking about he had the smallest dick of all of them.

“We all know that Taehyung has the biggest dick here, let's be honest,” Jimin shrugs, which only makes Jungkook's jaw drop lower.

“Say less, only one way to find out.” Jungkook reaches for his zipper.

“Ayo, what the fuck! There are children here,” Hoseok rushes out, “we are not about to whip our dicks out to compare sizes,” he finishes.

“Of course not.” Jungkook makes his way to the snow, his back facing the boys as his zipper gets pulled down, and before everyone knows it, he spreads his arms wide, face planting in the white snow.

“Shit, fuck, cold!” He scrambles to his feet, tucking himself in as he shivers from the cold. Then, he chuckles with a grin plastered on his face as he points to the snow angel on the snow… and a perfectly shaped imprint of his cock.

“So who’s next?” Jungkook asks.

“I’m grown, I’m not dipping my dick in the snow to compare dick sizes.” Yoongi shakes his head, crossing his arms.

They all dipped their dicks in the snow to compare dick sizes.

“What the fuck! I swear it shrunk cause it’s cold, I swear,” Taehyung begs to the boys who stare at all the lined imprints.

“Motherfuckers, I told y'all I was the biggest,” Jungkook smiles proudly as he sees he is the biggest out of all of them.

“I can’t believe this, we just boosted his ego more,” Jimin sighs as he stares at his own imprint and then to Jungkook's.

The glass door slides open, making the five men abruptly turn around. Five women come marching towards them, “what are you guys doing?” Ari asks, with a big smile on her face.

“Nothing,” Taehyung answers a little too fast.

You stare at your husband, raising your eyebrow at him, and that makes him fold like a lawn chair. “We were comparing dick sizes in the snow,” Jungkook blurts out, “I won though!” He cheers, pointing to his snow angel happily.

“Fucking shit, y/n how are you upright?” Eunbi gasps as she stares at Jungkook's imprint. “Now we know why you are always so damn happy,” Yoongi chimes in with a grin.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #jjk #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #fluff #bangtan #established relationship #married au #dilf jungkook #oneshot #blurb #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungguk #jeongguk #jeon jk #bts jk #bts x reader #bangtan fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #smut #bts #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #bts smut

[bucknastysbabe]

For your health, of course

Aegon II x Baratheon Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Fluff and smut, wg progression, CHONK!Aegon, hand feeding, belly kink, infertility/fertility issues, post!Dance au, they’re in love and everything is perfect okay, health issues, oral sex (m!receiving), hand jobs, mentioned fingering and cunnilingus

A/N: I almost put this on my other blog but fuck it I don’t consider this too The Other Kink to not post. Me love thick men thanks @lovelykhaleesiii for the plot ideas

Aegon came back to the throne skinny, sickly, and surly. He was irritated from the shattered bones and having to rule over an even more shattered kingdom he never wanted in the first place.

You were his new wife, married quickly after he had returned. Aegon liked having you around, requesting you stay by his side at all times. The Dowager seemed to be annoyed as she couldn’t get her son alone to debate how to navigate the still burning coals of war.

You tried to get to know him better, idly chatting away as he drank strongwine. Aegon hollowly stared at you one day and said, “I have nothing to talk about, I like listening to you.” So you had to start bringing books in for entertainment. But the feeling of something missing was in the back of your mind.

Staring at a painting of Aegon on his coronation day brought forth what.

The young king in that photo was robust, handsome, and definitely well fed. You couldn’t do anything about the scars…but maybe some flesh on his bones would help with aches and pains. The Targaryen rarely ate, preferring to drink or sip on soup.

So at your nightly private dinner you ordered the servants to bring heavier options, meats and sweets, bread and pudding. Aegon eyes widened and he grumbled, “I can’t possibly eat that.” You moved to the seat closest to him and prodded, “Why not? You look like a wandering septon.”

Violet eyes turned up at you. He stared at the feast and his mouth twisted slightly. Aegon bitterly remarked, “Because that’s what the Maester told me. Gods, I’m a buffoon. They just want me weak and drunk all the time!” He threw his hands up in anger, cursing himself.

You smiled sweetly, forking a piece of ham to his still frowning mouth, “Eat up then, this will make you stronger.” Aegon opened and took a generous bite, moaning around the flavor. You hummed, “Good. You’ll be feeling better in no time, my lord husband. Show them how wrong they were.”

It was off to the races by that exact moment. Aegon’s notorious appetite of his youth had returned, ten-fold. He requested large feasts for every meal, even beginning to invite some of the lords milling around the place to break up their plotting.

Aegon would often be exhausted after a particularly long day, forcing himself around on that cane in the Keep. He’d plop down in a comfortable chair and you’d hand feed him, cooing, “You’ve worked so hard today, just let me take care of you.”

He would sigh, “You’re too good to me.”

You’d happily do this every second if it got him to smile, that rare, beautiful smile. He’d relax and drink and eat, opening diligently for whatever he dictated you’d bring to his mouth. You didn’t know if you loved him yet, but this made you feel very…warm inside.

You were doing needlepoint next to Aegon, who watched the Blackwater wistfully. He munched on some honey cakes and grapes, having developed a habit for keeping his mouth occupied. You had a feeling the morsels kept him grounded from whatever hellish memories kept the king up at night.

The Dowager Queen entered the chambers, stiff and dressed in black. A new Kingsguard stood behind her, aloof as ever. She delicately perched on a seat, staring at you two. Aegon grumbled, “What is it mother? More spies under the keep? Cregan Stark is on the spires?”

Her pretty mouth thinned, looking so much like Aegon. Alicent wrung her hands together and said, “No, nothing of that sort. I wanted to say you look healthier. Maybe the Maester could check your, ahem, potency soon.” Aegon dramatically groaned around a lemon cake, “Always an ulterior motive, yes! In front of my darling wife.”

You stated, “I do not wish to injure him trying to copulate. I feel this is a private matter between the Maester and us, My Queen.”

She huffed, “Do please meet with them soon, we need an heir.”

Poor Jaehaera was scarcely considered, the child strange and gloomy. Aegon tried his best, the girl often climbing into your shared bed weeping, your husband trying to console her. She was shy of you, but had warmed up some when the princess saw you make Aegon laugh.

After Alicent had left Aegon shoved another lemon cake down his throat. He murmured between smacks, “I don’t trust the gods damned maesters. Not one.” You grabbed his scarred hand and promised, “I’ll be right there with you. I- I’d love to have a child of yours, if the gods allow for it.”

His violet eyes grew glossy and he rasped, “Fine. We go to them on the morn, my sweet.”

Aegon was flushed and very aggravated in the Grand Maester’s quarters. You knew he was self conscious about the scarring and the withered leg he refused to rid of. A blanket lay over his lap, him looking down sullenly. You sat in a corner of the room, hands folded in your lap.

He’d gained some weight, you’d noticed that now that you saw his pale and scarred flesh in the buff. Where ribs once poked through was a soft layer of padding, a small roll creasing his tummy. His arms were more built from the cane, but you could see a bit of softness. Aegon’s hips had flared out.

Heat settled on your cheeks. Your husband looked very good, soft and sweet. You couldn’t help but imagine how more flesh would sit on his delicate Targaryen bones. The jingling of chains alerted the pair of you, the old Maester shuffling in. You relocated to Aegon’s side, holding a hand. He looked up at you and murmured, “You may not want to see this.”

Hardening your gaze you stated, “You’re my husband, I will cherish every bit of you.”

Your heart fluttered watching the stress dial down across his body. Aegon pulled your palm to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss. Orwyle rasped, “So we need to check on fertility, hm?” Aegon snapped, “Why else would I be here? Obviously she’s not broken and burnt.”

The Maester chuckled softly, used to the King’s outbursts. He murmured, “Lay back, I need to check you.” Aegon reluctantly leaned back, closing his eyes tight as Orwyle pulled back the blanket. You stared at the withered leg, frowning in sadness. His other leg, although still healing, had thickened up slightly.

“I see you’ve been having a healthy appetite again,” he noted.

“Because my darling wife cares about me and my health. My aches have lessened.”

“Mhm. Yes.” Aegon gritted his jaw as his cock and sac was felt and checked. Orwyle noted, “You’re producing sperm, but no copulation. We must get your seed and artificially enter it in the Queen.” You spoke, “Can we do this act in private? Ah- the collection part?”

Orwyle waved a gnarled hand, “Yes, of course, I will have to inseminate you quickly after.”

Awkward visit over, Aegon was struggling on his cane, sitting down on a bench with a huff. You nuzzled into his soft hair, teasing, “Not too bad. I have heard the seed takes better when the woman has had her own release.” The king laughed deeply, “Oh, I’ll take care of you. Make Orwyle cover his ears for a bit.”

You pecked his sweet lips, humming. Your hand skated down to his belly, just slightly straining the fabric that once hung off his frame. With a purr you commented, “You are looking very healthy and handsome my lord.” He looked wide eyed at you, eager for some sort of praise, “You think so?”

“Yes, no longer on death’s doorstep, but we’ve got a long way Hm?”

He agreed heartily, belly rumbling as if on cue. More and more eating processed, Aegon seeming to grow more confident with the extra padding. You made sure your husband didn’t have to lift a finger, feeding and pampering him, washing and helping him dress.

Add the lack of mobility and Aegon’s tendency to travel by litter— the weight had piled on much faster than expected. Far exceeding what that original painting you’d scene. But instead of disgust, you grew aroused at his increasing weight and happier moods.

The first few sessions of ‘collection’ were definitely arousing. You’d grope and knead at fatty flesh, hand running tight strokes around his cock. One session he’d busted his doublet after eating a meal and squirming around your slick fist. You’d quivered and came watching his thick belly poke out between shredded fabric, riding Aegon’s scarred fingers.

One cane turned to two to support his heavier weight. You’d ever heard servants complaining about how heavy the King had gotten. He seemed to not pay any mind nor register any weight.

Laying in bed together one night, you idly stroked his swollen belly, bloated with mead and meats of all sorts. This was a far cry from the slim layer of fat lining his body. Aegon’s cheeks thickened, jaw softened, chest swollen. You marveled at his fat sides and rapidly growing stomach. And do not get you started on watching his one thigh grow wobbly and thick.

“Should I cut back on the food,?” he asked.

You raised your brows, replying, “Why do you say that my love?”

“Mother said I’ve gotten rotund, that it’s unseemly.”

You frowned and curled tighter into his soft side while humming, “You look good, happy, and so very arousing to me. A king doesn’t need to change for anyone.”

Aegon eyed you, chin settled into his pudge. He raised a brow and asked, “Arousing you say?” You couldn’t help but smirk a little, squeezing that belly you worked so hard on. The blonde laughed, “Little harlot, you like feeding your king don’t you?”

You blushed, caught unaware by Aegon’s blunt statement.

“Well?”

You shifted against him a bit, growing hot under his heavy gaze. In a small voice you spoke, “Oh, you’ve outed me Aeg. I love it, so much. You look so good, properly fat like a king should be. Shouldn’t have to do a damn thing but order the realm.”

He smiled again, cheeks bunching up. Aegon kissed you passionately, hand greedily reaching to your breast, kneading expertly. You moaned into his mouth, shifting to lay half atop of his mass. You pressed onto his belly, making the poor thing wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said.

He shook his head and kept kissing you, tongue lapping you up. Your hand crept down his pale belly, passing now faded stripes to get at his cock. Aegon moaned lowly into your mouth at the contact of your hand. You murmured, “Can I taste you tonight my lord? Please?”

Aegon sighed, “Oh fuck, yes, gods.”

You yanked back the covers, exposing Aegon’s plumping cock, fighting hard to stay up against his generous lower belly. Aegon’s hand laid at the nape of your neck possessively, giving it a squeeze. He panted, “C’mon dear, yes, so good to me.”

You grabbed onto the base, lapping at his ruddy head, tonguing the slit eagerly. Aegon moaned and shifted, stuck under his still gurgling belly. Easing your lips you swallowed him down until he was at the back of your throat, bobbing while your hand got the rest. The other hand was massaging his balls.

Aegon moaned your name again, pudgy fingers scrabbling at your neck. He incoherently rambled nonsense, lazily attempting to buck his hips but quitting when you slapped a fleshy hip. You needn’t have your husband upset his fragile bones trying to fuck your throat.

Keeping up an easy pace you savored the moment, soaking up every moan whimper or cry. You pulled back up to pay special attention to his sensitive cockhead, Aegon’s belly rolling as he squirmed. He cried, “Close- fucking seven hells- angel!”

You flicked your tongue across the slit harder, Aegon losing composure and tearing at your locks of hair. You moaned in ecstasy, greedily swallowing down his spend until your husband was whining and pulling you off.

Wiping the back of your mouth you hummed, “Splendid.”

Aegon, catching his breath, panted, “Get over here so I can get my own. Now.”

He didn’t have to ask twice.

Aegon leant back in his favorite chair by the window overlooking the Blackwater, fingers digging into a bowl of candied sweets. His frame certainly filled out the chair now, heavy sides lipping over the arm rests. You were vibrating with excitement, holding back a smile.

The king stopped his munching to stare at you. He asked, “What’s got you all giddy?” With an excited squeak you moved to lay between his legs, head padded on his stronger one. Aegon’s thick fingers found their way into your hair, scritching idly. He asked again, temper almost on the edge, “Have a jest my lady? C’mon, out with it now.”

Looking up with a beam you chirped, “I’ve missed my moon blood two times now. Orwyle says I am with child!” Aegon’s face was a flurry of emotions— confusion, realization, happiness, then tears. He rasped, “Truly? You are pregnant?” Tears streamed from his pretty eyes, wide with glee.

“Yes, yes!,” you cried.

Aegon grasped at you, pulling you up and closer, an awkward angle but you liked being near to his soft flesh. He kissed you passionately, rambling breathlessly, “Gods be good, I- I can’t believe it.” You nuzzled his nose, warbling, “It’s a miracle. Oh Aegon, I am overjoyed!”

He pulled back, scarred hands holding your face, “We must plan a grand feast, a tourney, something! You’re eating for two now.”

You teased back tearily, “You’ll be eating for three then, yes?”

He rolled his eyes and kissed you again, laughing softly. Maybe the Targaryen’s could rise above the shambles of the realm. This was a new start, a new seed.

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #chubby!aegon ii #baratheon!reader #post dance au #slight wg kink

[tired-biscuit]

Spoiled

Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki/fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni!!], breeding kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, established relationship. hokage!naruto.

Word count: 2k

---

“You look so pretty like this, princess. So fuckin' gorgeous.”

YOUR husband’s voice is a hoarse, raspy sound to brush your earlobe as he pulls back just enough to start placing wet kisses upon your neck.

Back lifting off the mattress in a subtle arch, you feel his teeth nip at the sensitive skin that is your sweet spot; light blue bed sheet clinging to your sweat-riddled skin before it peels off of you with a snap that leaves your body tingling with heat. Even the pillowcase has gotten damp from how much you’re sweating. The way how sticky you feel all over makes you feel filthy. You’ll certainly need to take a shower after this.

Naruto doesn’t seem to mind it at all, though. You can hear his content sigh before you feel it - the icy sensation that makes a shiver run down your spine from how he cools down the saliva that coats your neck from all the messy kisses he's given you. He leans in, the tip of his nose brushing your skin as he starts to suck on it tenderly. 

The little mewl you produce in answer makes his warm tongue dance across your pulse point and prod at the bruise that is beginning to form from the rough ministrations, just in hopes that he’ll be able to hear it again.

Fortunately for him: he does. “Mmph… Naru.”

The pleasure turns his voice into a soft coo as he whispers, “Shh, sweetheart. Daddy’s got ya.”

His hand is so big that it covers nearly half of your face as he cups your jaw and angles it to the side so that he can kiss your throat better. You can feel the callouses scraping your smooth skin as his thick fingers dig into the bone and the plush flesh of your cheek, now. It makes you furrow your brow from how forceful he is with it.

You know that he’s just eager. Especially because he’s got you in a mating press.

You’re nearly shivering underneath him, your lashes coated with salty tears from how deeply and painfully he penetrates inside you with the position. It’s been a few minutes since he’s bottomed out; since his balls had smacked against your ass with that satisfying slap!, but the way you can still feel him throb and twitch inside your belly is starting to make you lose your mind.

He’s whispering soft praises into your ear whenever you cry out, but doesn’t really give you time to adjust as his hips keep that lazy rhythm he’s been upkeeping ever since he’s taken your panties off. It’s driving you nuts. At this point, you’re going to go fucking berserk from all the edging.

Naruto wasn’t always like this; especially not when he was younger. Back when he was twenty, he could barely keep himself from cumming in his pants just from the noises you made while he ate you out. Now, at thirty-two, he owns the ability to keep you sitting on his dick and do paperwork in the same efficient manner like you aren’t even there - pussy drooling all over his cock and making him feel snug as he keeps signing the papers. 

Come to think of it, he’s only started acting like this ever since becoming Hokage. Sure, you’ve expected him to start acting more mature after being granted the position, but to say that you weren’t ready for all the patience he’d acquire with it, would be an understatement.

As well as the daddy kink. Especially the daddy kink.

Finally achieving his dream, Naruto had begun mentioning the idea of starting a family with you as soon as he took over the Hokage seat. It started with little nudges and mumbled sentences at first; a face blooming entirely red when he proposed that you stop taking your birth control during dinner one night. 

You were ecstatic by his decision and immediately obliged with a smile so bright that it made him slam you right there; on the edge of the dining table before the food had even gotten the chance to turn fully cold. By the time your cycle had turned back to normal from the lack of extra hormones, he was already breeding you and calling you his little girl.

Dropping your gaze, you look at the place where you connect, now. It is wet and so very sticky. Your arousal and his drool and pre-cum makes you latch together; the glistening strands thick to coat the blonde, coarse hairs underneath his navel as they keep connecting and breaking apart every time his hips laggardly pull back and slam right back into your own.

When you look back up, he’s staring at the same spot you were ogling at just a moment prior. His cheeks are a feverish red as he keeps leering at it; both temples and forehead covered in a thick layer of salty sweat. He’s so handsome that it makes you fall in love with him all over again.

You’d run your fingers through his short blonde hair, maybe even caress that pretty face of his, if he weren’t so persistent in making you hold your legs flush against your chest the entire time. Even your nails are starting to make slender crescent markings just below your knees from the intensity you’re holding yourself together with in hopes of appeasing him. It's all for him.

Well, a little bit is for you, too.

“Ugh, you’re just so goddamn cute!” He chuckles breathlessly, blue eyes dark like the stormy sea, “Always so tight and drippin’ wet for me. Makes me wanna fuck my lil’ princess for hours.” 

Your whimper comes out broken out of your throat when he places his thumb on your needy clit, clumsily smearing the mix of saliva and excitement all over the adorable button of nerves. The sensitivity from the overstimulation makes you tip your head back into the pillow with a quiet cry. You can’t even form words anymore, he's been drilling you like this for thirty-five minutes already.

“Would you like that,” he murmurs softly, listening to every sound you make, to every lewd squelch and smack, “if daddy took the day off work tomorrow, and spoiled his pretty girl by fuckin’ her on every flat surface inside the house? Makin’ sure she gets a baby fucked into her by him?”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he applies more pressure to prove a point, fucking into you so deep that it makes your mouth pop open and your eyes cross from the way he overtakes your entire capacity. Your legs are beginning to shake as they attempt to slip from underneath the hold of your clammy hands.

His cock is so big that even your jaw turns slack from the way it bullies your womb. You’re well past your drooling point as he keeps hammering inside you; turning your insides to mush and making you squeak out a high-pitched noise every time he hits that sweet spot that causes for your toes to curl and for slick to gush out in hot, trembling waves. You can feel every ridge of him, every vein as it scrapes your walls when he pulls back and pushes back in, nice and slow.

He seems to know it. Seems to know that his fat cock is turning you dumb.

“Answer, sweetheart. Well, if you're able, of course,” he taunts you gently, potent biceps flexing above you as his hands wrap around your own. He pushes your legs even further against your chest. Makes you bend even more, so that he can fuck you deeper; harder. You’re his little fucktoy, and he’s going to play with you for a long while.

“Yes…!” You pant now, chest heaving with every ragged breath from the way he's pressing his weight against you, “I’d like th-that s’much, daddy!”

“Yeah?” His eyes glimmer with tricksy mischief as he murmurs, “You wanna sit on daddy’s cock while he does work from home? Help him relax a lil’ bit? You know how frustrated he gets on the job.”

Your nod is eager as ever, especially from the way he picks up his pace. “Mhmm, mhmm! Wanna spoil daddy, too. Wanna suck him off and sit on his big cock after he cums the first time.”

His eyes are so fucking dark that they mesmerize you in a way. “You wanna swallow daddy's cum? How about he cums on that cute face of yours, instead? Rubs it right in, so you're nice and pretty.”

“Whatever makes daddy happy, I'll do,” you gasp out in an instant. Gods, you sound like a bimbo, and you know he likes it because it makes him feel smarter. Stronger. More in control. He's been like that ever since he was seventeen and won the war.

Constantly hungry for praise and approval. Even fifteen years later.

And you can nearly see it already. Him sitting in his home office, with you on his lap; arms wrapped tightly around his neck and sighing into the crook of it as you keep oozing slick and his cum right down to his balls and causing such a hot mess as he makes you warm his cock throughout it all.

The image in your head nearly makes you erupt into pure bliss right then and there. Makes your eyes almost pop out of their sockets, if you weren't quick enough to close them.

“Well, aren’t you a good little girl, huh? So eager to spoil your daddy, like you’re doin’ right now.” He grins, a lazy upturning of one corner of his lips as he feels you beginning to tighten around him. The clench is potent; strong. You’re literally trying to milk him.

“Daddy…!” Tears are brimming your waterline from how good it hurts as he burrows himself deep within you, hooded gaze carnal with sleepy lust and craving, “Fill me up. I, ah-... I wanna be filled up. Please, please, please!”

The snigger he lets out is mocking. “I’ll try, sweetheart. But first you gotta spread your legs a lil’ bit wider for me, yeah? I wanna see how well that cute cunt of yours takes my cock.”

All you can do is oblige and take it as he gets harsher and harsher with you as soon as you spread your legs wider, your knee nearly brushing your chin with the action. The rutting of his hips grows more animalistic as soon as your pussy comes into view. He reaches down and spreads the puffy, gooey lips with his index finger and thumb before he starts to abuse your clit again; rubbing it in tight, little circles.

You can see how his eyes fixate on it. The way your cunt is being pounded and looks so fucking tender makes his pupils dilate and a predatory growl climb up his throat. You know that he’s going to destroy you before he even thinks about cumming, despite the promise he’s given you about filling you up.

Because some greedy, sadistic part of him just likes how obedient you are. How considerate you are of his wishes, because they were never quite taken into consideration when he was younger. How compliant you are as his little, precious toy, as his wife, as his cocksleeve and as the mother of his future child.

By the time the headboard of the bed starts slamming against the wall with loud, rhythmic thuds, there are no traces left of the composed Hokage everyone else is used to seeing nowadays. Just a wild animal; high on the strokes to its ego, having its way with you however it pleases and playing with you and stretching you to the brink of pain, before it fills up your womb with thick ropes of warm cum, in hopes it'll carry its child.

But you've got a long way ahead of you before that happens. You're married to the strongest Shinobi to ever walk the face of the earth. His stamina is going to break your back and even if he does cum, he'll keep shoving it in before he's ready to go at it all over again.

The realization makes you sob.

#naruto #naruto x reader #naruto smut #naruto uzumaki smut #naruto x you

[golden-barnes]

So I have this concept in my head I think I even shared it with another writer. But anyway here it goes. Reader is the cook at the avengers tower and Bucky is convinced she's working for Hydra. He thinks she was sent to trick him and spy on him. His reasoning is she always where's these aprons that reminds him of his ma. Different aprons for every occasion. She always has 40s music playing and is always singing along and dancing. She's this soft feminine bundle of sunshine. And her chocolate chip cookies taste just like his ma's. He knows she's evil but she's really just wonderful. He has fallen for her but doesn't realize it and is constantly trying to get her to reveal that she is a Hydra agent. She just wants to make him happy because she saw what he was like when he was healing after what Hydra did and harbors a huge crush. She actually got the recipe from his sister before she passed away to make them to help Steve adjust and started making them for both of them. Anyway I'm done rambling.

Your freaking BRAINNNNN. Ugh if this starts a series in my page Im blaming you because I am obsessed but also don't have enough time to write a full story so I might do something longer later with this idk. (also I'm envisioning a chubby plus size reader because it just felt right) Hope you like it!

Warning: swearing

"Hey, Robocop, could you stop glaring at our new cook?" Sam joked, noticing his friend glaring at their newest cook.

"She's a spy, Sam." Sam scoffed at the ridiculousness of Bucky's words.

"Bucky, she is baking an upside-down pineapple cake and wearing a pink and white apron while dancing to a Nat King Cole song. If she's a spy, Beyonce is my wife." Sam tried to reason with the soldier, but Bucky glared at him.

"Maybe that's what Hydra wants you to think. They are trained to be unsuspecting and blend in." Bucky whispered to Sam, looking at the cook, who was singing the lyrics of the song that was playing. He was transported back in time when his mom and sister would do the same thing. And there she was, (Y/N) in his mom's summertime apron, singing one of his mom's favorite songs. Hydra was getting sloppy with their spies if this was what they were sending.

After his therapy session, Bucky arrived at the compound and noticed a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen counter. He didn't think much, but he grabbed one and ate it.

He paused and looked at the cookie. It was exactly like his ma's recipe. He could feel his eyes water because he hadn't realized how much he missed these fucking cookies.

"Hello, Sargent. Like the cookies?" The alleged spy asked. She was wearing a very familiar floral apron. An apron he used to laugh at, saying it looked like his nana's curtains. His ma would always stick her tongue out in retaliation. Maybe he should try and see if she has the same reaction...

"Nice apron... Kinda looks like my grandma's curtains." (Y/N) laughed at his joke.Like a full belly laugh. She looks cute, Bucky thought. But immediately shook his head. Nope, this girl that looks like a warm hug personified is evil.

"It does kinda look like that. My grandma had the same one." She said, twiddling with the edge of the apron. Hydra really trained this one well.

And every day it was like this. Bucky would find her singing and dancing with an apron that was exactly like the one his mom would wear. It was driving him insane. Sam had tried to reason with him, but everything felt like a trap. It was like Hydra stole his memories and was recreating them with a beautiful lady that was just Bucky's type.

But today, it was Bucky's last straw. (Y/N) was wearing his ma's favorite red apron. And he knew it was his ma's because he could see the J and R embroidered in the apron's hem. Bucky had bought the apron, and Becca embroidered it as a Mother's Day gift.

"Cookie?" She asked, showing him a plate of freshly baked chocolate cookies. They smelt exactly like the ones ma' used to make. It angered him.

"What's your deal? How did you get this recipe and that apron?" Bucky growled. (Y/N) took a step back, but she didn't look scared.

"You know the bakery in Queens called Paulie's?" She started saying; Bucky nodded. His mom used to bring them there anytime they were going to celebrate something special in their family.

"I used to work there part-time in high school. So did Rebecca, your sister... She was the head baker there and taught me all the recipes I knew. A lot of them were your mom's. When she retired and moved in with her grandson, she gave me all these beautiful aprons. I am sorry if it made you uncomfortable. " She said honestly.

Bucky kept looking into her eyes to search for a lie. But there wasn't any there.

"Steve went to Paulie's and tried my cookies. He said it tasted like your mom's, and that's when SHIELD hired me. They thought having a familiar aspect would be easier for your transition." She confessed.

"And the music?" Bucky whispered. He felt kinda nice; she wasn't a spy. She was just a woman who had a connection with his sister. Maybe he could find out more about her last moments through her.

"She wouldn't work if she didn't have music playing in the background. I think I just adopted that habit." She said sheepishly. Bucky chuckled; his mom was the same.

"Would you like to learn how to back?" She added and Bucky nodded, holding back the tears.

"Sure, I would love to." The smile that she gave him was worth a million dollars and he would gladly pay it if it meant he would see it again. To think he thought it was a fucking Hydra spy.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes drabble #nami answers

[nightcourtseer]

Pain Like This

Summary: Mor and Azriel finally talk. One year post ACOSF.

Read on A03

He had thought he had known agony. He thought he knew pain - thought that he had turned it on its side and around until he knew every part of what pain was, what pain could possibly be.

He had never known pain like this.

Orchestral music went on stories beneath him at the House of Wind. Winds and strings and the stories of their people, their freedom, drifted up to him as Azriel leaned his forearms on one of the house’s many balconies. Cool night air swept across his skin, tousling his air - as if it were an extension of his shadows which clung closer to him than they had done so in years.

He had discarded his fine black jacket at some point during the night, when things had all become a little too much and the close fit of the fabric had started to feel more like a noose than a luxury. It was tossed over the balcony next to an empty glass of champagne.

Typically he would turn to liquor to solve his problems - to turn the clock faster so that with each drink, the hand would spin faster and faster until the sun rose and he could wearily begin the next day.

But at the sight of her, just a glimpse of golden brown hair and an amethyst gown - in his arms, an emerald green jacket - Azriel’s stomach had churned. The scent of their bond drifted to him on a traitorous breeze and he had nearly emptied the contents of his stomach right there in the middle of the crowd.

Before her, he thought he had known the pain of heartbreak. But no, heartbreak was merciful, in comparison. Heartbreak was an arrow to the heart, a slash of a knife across the throat. Heartbreak was quick, its devastation brutal, but effective.

This was torture. And torture, Azriel knew well.

It had been over a year since that Solstice Night. And every day since, Azriel wondered at the fact that he hadn’t been driven completely mad.

He never slept, barely ate. He threw his body so brutally into training that there were times when Cassian had to physically drag him from the ring.

It was the worst kind of pain - useless, destructive pain that could never be resolved, never lessened. And he could not confide it in anyone, could not extend a shaking hand to help him, to please, help him through this.

He was alone. Just as he had always suspected he should be, had always been meant to be.

Maybe that was why the shadows had come to him - some pitiful offering by Death that until his soul was claimed by the Mother herself, the shadows would be his only constant companion.

The stars hadn’t even begun to make their journey across the sky before he had snuck away, his brothers too occupied with their mates to notice him fading away, trudging heavily up the stairs and through an empty bedroom, sliding open the glass door to step onto the balcony where he could watch the migration of souls alone.

He should have known that few moments of solitude on such a night would be too much to ask.

Azriel knew her scent as well as his own, even though her heels made no sound on the plush, expensive rug as she crossed the room to the balcony. The glass doors remained open, although she paused on the threshold.

He didn’t turn around to greet her. For as well as he knew her scent, so did he know the tells of her distress - the unique markers of her scent that hinted at what weighed heavily on her tongue. The belly-curling scent of red wine flooding the night air around them as she leaned against the doorframe to steady herself.

“Not now, Mor.”

There was no kindness in his voice. No warmth, that he usually reflected back to her.

“Az, please.”

He refused to turn. He refused to turn around and see the salty tears that his shadows whispered were gathering in her eyes.

“You’re drunk. We’re not having this conversation while you’re drunk.”

“I can’t wait any longer,” she pleaded. So unlike her, to plead for everything besides that they join her for a night of dancing, or another glass of wine. Nothing of importance - nothing that truly mattered.

She’s crying, the golden one is crying, his shadows whispered sorrowfully.

His head pounded, and more than ever he yearned for the bottle of powder on his nightstand.. Out of all nights that she would come to him, out of all of the nights that he had waited for her to speak, to finish the conversation that he had tried to start eons ago.

“Godsdamnit, Mor!” he whirled around to face her, and she recoiled as his eyes flashed. “You’ve waited 500 years to bring this up and you can’t wait one more fucking day?”

“Az-” Something in those stormy hazel eyes softened as she choked on a breath, the wine glass shaking in her hand. As if she held onto it like a raft, a physical way to ground herself as she forced herself to speak the truth they had buried for half a millennium.

“It can’t wait. Please.”

He didn’t give her an answer, but he didn’t give her any indication that he wasn’t listening either. He merely turned to return his gaze to the stars above. Faint lines of starlight still ghosted the dark night, as if white shadows had trailed the crossing spirits. Even the stars seemed to glow brighter that night, as if to put on their best show for the crowds toasting, cheering and dancing until the early hours of the morning.

Azriel remembered when it had once been the five of them down there. When it had just been him, Cass, Amren, Mor and Rhys - before the mountain. Before their world had broken apart for 50 years and they had barely held themselves together, not knowing if their brother, their High Lord, would ever return. They had gotten so drunk for so many nights that the years went quickly, even as the days dragged on.

How much had changed, since then.

Rhys held Nyx in the crowd below, pressing a soft kiss to his son’s head as Feyre came up behind him, holding a glass of champagne in one hand and tilting it up to Rhys’ lips. The smiles on their faces so wide as to rival the stars that had just fallen.

Cassian led Nesta through the throng of dancers, his waltz having vastly improved over the past year of gatherings and parties on her arm.

He didn’t dare look to see who else might still be on the dance floor.

“Azriel,” her voice broke on the first syllable of his name - like a snapped violin string, mournfully twisting the sound of what had once been a beautiful melody on her lips. One he had once longed to hear, over and over again.

“I’m sorry.”

Azriel waited with bated breath for her to continue. His shoulders curled in on themselves involuntarily, as if waiting for the sword of her golden tongue to thrust a blade into the back he had left exposed to her. When in reality, there was already a knife there that had been twisting and turning for centuries. Blood leaking and dripping behind him for as long as he could remember.

She didn’t continue, so he finished for her - his voice as cold and deep as it had been for the past year, since that Solstice Night when he had turned away from any glimmer of hope that he had seen reflected back in a wide pair of brown eyes looking up at him, fluttering closed in anticipation -

This was a bad time for her to come to him with this. He had no patient bone left in his body - every part of him felt battered, bruised, tender.

He had no kindness in his soul that night, and so he lashed out.

“I’m sorry for - what, Mor? I’m sorry for stringing you along for 500 years? For letting you trail after me like a godsdamned fool? For making Cassian feel like he had to sit between us at every dinner, every night at Rita’s, every possible opportunity where you might have been able to tell me how you felt?”

She let out a shuddering sob at the frigid anger in his voice. Anger that he had never once directed at her before, only threw out in her defense. And even then, it had frightened her. The depth of that anger, that chilled his very bones.

“It doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. Nothing does.”

Gods, he was so godsdamned tired. If only he could sleep, if only could he close his eyes without seeing her, without hearing her voice, without seeing the devastation in her eyes as he uttered those four words that repeated themselves over and over in an endless loop in his mind.

“It matters to me.” A bit of anger colored her tone, as she went on the defensive.

“It matters to me that we talk about this. And yes, I’m sorry for that - for everything. But don’t pretend you didn’t know. You’re too smart for that.”

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair and not bothering to wince as it pulled at the roots. Physical pain meant nothing to him anymore.

“Of course I knew, how could I not? You practically shoved her in my face, and still you said nothing.”

His voice wavered, as he struggled not to shout. Because there was still a party going on below them, and even in his anger, his frustration, he didn’t want to reveal her secrets like that.

“Andromache,” Mor whispered, and he could scent another tear sliding done her perfectly blushed cheek. “Her name was Andromache.”

Her pain was bitter - more bitter than the red wine that stained her teeth, her red lips. Even after all of these years, it still felt fresh to her - that grief of losing her lover. One that Azriel had very much been aware of, but had never spoken of to anyone - not Mor, and certainly not his brothers.

“You knew I was in love with you, and yet you had the decency to carry on that affair right in front of me.”

He gritted the words through his teeth. And still, he did not turn to face her.

“I didn’t think you would be able to handle it - if I outright told you about her,” Mor’s voice persisted, even through her tears. She took another step closer to her, and his shadows clung together to his form. She stopped when she noticed this.

He had known, and he had let it carry on. For Azriel had foolishly hoped that at the end of it, when her heart was inevitably broken by a cruelly short human lifespan, that she might turn to him for comfort - to fill the hole that the human queen had left in her heart.

What a fool he had been. What a fool he still was.

“Liar,” he snarled, barely leashing himself as he snapped his head to the side, still avoiding the sight of her. A part of him was satisfied, when he felt her recoil.

His voice was a discordant tune to the uplifting melody lilting below. Their family a happy, peaceful thing lost in the crowd even as he and Mor lashed and wounded each other above, out of sight.

That was always had been, in the Court of Dreams. Anger and hurt and nightmares relegated to dark corners, to dark bedrooms, to warded houses. Carefully tucked away, tucked inside, turned inward - until there was nowhere left for it to go but out.

Azriel didn’t have any room left in his heart for it.

“You love me.” she corrected, “You haven’t been in love with me for centuries.”

Azriel was silent, anger and anguish and defeat radiating and intermingling as he struggled to vocalize the very words that he had struggled to voice for hundreds of years. In all of the ways he had imagined in this conversation to go, it was never like this.

“I’m not sure if I even know the difference anymore.”

“You do,” Mor asserted quietly, taking a step closer and abandoning her glass on the balcony. She put a hand on his arm, so slowly it was as if she was trying to comfort a wild animal.

And maybe that’s all he was, to her. Some beast that had been locked in a dark cage for the better part of his formative life. An Illyrian designed to kill or be killed - a winged devil stalking through the night. A torturer wringing blood in the coldest part of their world.

He was the opposite of anything she had ever wanted. She had crawled her way out of Hewn City with her own bloodied hands and would do anything in her power to keep from going back to that place. Back to what he clearly reminded her of - of darkness, and death, and torment.

That was why he had started to love her, after all. She was sunlight incarnate - from her easy smile to her quick humor to her golden hair - she was so, so easy to love. Too easy to cling to when his own darkness threatened to swallow him whole. If she was the sun, he was the moon chasing after her - night after night after night.

“Maybe you were in love with me, in the beginning,” Mor continued, her voice softer, gentler than it had been before.

Maybe she was just as tired as he was.

“But I know that you haven’t been for a long time. And now, with -”

“Don’t,” Azriel loosened a warning growl. “Don’t say her name.”

Mor let out a shaky sigh, and his shadows didn’t even have to alert him to the change of her scent - one from fear and anger to pity and sorrow.

“It’s different with her, and you know it.”

Azriel wondered when she had noticed. Maybe that strange, unworldly power inside of her had told her this truth long before even he himself had known.

He had been to the cabin, after Feyre had painted it. He had stopped and stared, marveling at a small drawing that clearly had been done by an unpracticed hand - three winged males beside three females with long, flowing hair. He had stood there, staring at that little drawing for far too long.

“And yet, it’s not different, Mor.”

Exhaustion swept over him - a sudden wave that weighted him down to that very spot so heavily he wondered if he would ever fly again. If he would ever be able to lift the wings that he too frequently let drag on the ground behind him, when no one was watching.

“The ending is the same.”

“You don’t know that.” Red-tipped nails dug into the sleeve of his dark shirt, insistence coloring her voice, steadying it as she clung to him.

But her light could not touch him this time. Shadows pressed closer to his form, shielding him. He did not want to feel hope. He did not want her to tell him that he would find another - he did not want her to tell him about Emerie, or second chances. He didn’t want to hear anything at all.

“Azriel-”

He stopped her, before she could say any of that. Before she could try to wash over his agony, before she could cradle him in her warmth and goodness and light.

“I can’t do this for another 500 years,” he admitted.

Maybe it was the defeat in his voice - or maybe some dark implication that he had hidden even from himself. That he could barely take another day of this agony, let alone another hundred years.

Mor broke apart in his arms, legs wobbling beneath her as she cried out, halfheartedly trying to contain her cry.

Frantically, Azriel pulled her in close. Maybe to keep her quiet, to keep their location unobserved from prying eyes. Or maybe because this felt like a goodbye, in more ways than one.

He let a scarred hand cradle the back of her head, pressing her close to him and letting the kohl around her eyes bleed into the black material of his shirt. Sharp, heaving sobs wracked her chest as her cries were muffled into his chest, right above his heart. He turned his head so that he could rest his cheek on the top of her head, and lifted his heavy wings to pull them around the pair, cocooning them.

“I’m sorry, Azriel, I’m so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you…” he could just make out her muffled words.

He held his friend, the female he had once hoped would be his lover. The female whom he had once hoped would choose him above all else.

Azriel closed his eyes. Let the wind kiss his dry cheeks, fill his stuttering lungs with air once more. Mor’s cries quieted, with time, until her shaking form stilled beneath his hands, her bare skin revealed by her strapless red dress still somehow warmer than his own.

“You have to tell her, Azriel,” Mor insisted, red-lined eyes still somehow beautiful, as she looked up at him. “Before it’s truly too late.”

“Let’s talk about this another night, Mor,” Azriel said softly, but firmly, as he tucked her back into his chest. As he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that this night had turned out entirely different. That it was not Mor, breaking off the final piece of her that he had struggled to hold onto for so long. That instead, golden brown hair clung to his expensive shirt - the shirt that he had bought with some misguided hope that she might look at him - that there might be some way that she would look at him again and smile, and take his hand for a dance.

Then maybe she would have led him up here, to the balcony of her old room in the House of Wind. The room that her scent still clung to, although faintly - honey and jasmine. He dreaded the day when the scent faded completely, when he would no longer be able to slip through the door in the middle of the night to look at the stars, imagining she was in his arms as they looked out onto their city together, their home.

No, not even during those years of pining after Mor, had he known pain like this.

#mor and azriel finally talk #angst #post acosf #elriel #emorie #azriel #elain x azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger

[reallyromealone]

I have a benkei request if that’s alright with you and it’s the alpha, omega and beta au

So say it’s late at night and the reader (who’s six months pregnant) and he is makes his way to the kitchen to help with his pregnancy cravings and benkei (who I headcannon as someone who loves to cuddle with their significant other) notices that the reader is not in bed so he heads downstairs and sees the reader eating and he accidentally scares the reader. Which would make benkei laugh but he’d immediately apologize and help the reader back to bed

*screams*

🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷Benkei grunted as his mates side of the bed was cold, eyes scanning the empty bed and immediately got up to find his pregnant Omega.

He had a feeling he knew where he was.

(Name) stood in front of the fridge snacking on left overs and a combination of (strange combination) sleepily, still in his sleep shirt that totally wasn't one of Benkeis t-shirts and loose fitting boxers. Benkei walking in to see him doing a little happy dance as he ate, unaware his alpha was watching fondly.

"Baby what are you doing up?" Benkei asked startling (name) and subsequently making him drop his food and Benkei chuckled but immediately stopped when his Omega whined sadly at the wasted food "I'll clean it baby" benkei said soothingly to his mate who took his bowl of (food) and Benkei kissed bis head before cleaning up "let's go back to bed" Benkei said leading his mate upstairs "this is good" (name) said and Benkei tried not to look openly disgusted at the combination "yeah you enjoy that"

(Name) ate his food before brushing his teeth again and letting benkei snuggle him in bed, large hands sprawled around his belly and the two sighed in contentment.

"I gotta pee"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #benkei x reader #benkei x male reader