#black bull dears☆

[dilatorywriting]

Heroes vs. Villains : The Staff

Platonic GN!Reader x NRC Staff vs. RSA Staff Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. NRC Staff Version (Part 1: Crewel and Crowley)

ie. Headmaster Crowley is a nightmare, and Professor Crewel is, well, cruel. And to be perfectly honest, after meeting another dog-loving professor who doesn't treat you like absolute garbage, the Royal Sword Academy is starting to look a lot more appealing.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me!’

Crowley had chirped that very sentiment to you ad nauseum, with all the enthusiasm of an old raven eyeing a shiny penny.

“Do you really believe that?” you sniffled, angry, as you sat slumped over in one of his rickety office chairs.

People at this stupid school were mean. And yeah, school yard insults and casual accusations of being the House Wardens’ little bitch were one thing—but these assholes would go right for the throat. All of your insecurities—your fears—all laid out like a nice spread of hors d'oeuvres ready for the picking. You had endured enough sharp barbs for a lifetime, and the fact that your glorious Headmaster and self-proclaimed parental figure kept writing it all off as a ‘learning experience’ was driving you mad.

“Of course I do, dear child!” he beamed. “What sort of educator would I be if I didn’t practice what I preach! Words are but the wind, as they say!”

You nodded, sage, and shot him a smile so sugary sweet it could rot the teeth right out of his skull.

“I wish I’d never met you and I hope that all your feathers fall off one by one,” you chirped. “And I use the ‘Number One Child’ mug you gave me to scoop water out of the toilets when the plumbing fails.”

Crowley’s mouth fell open with a nearly audible clunk, and if he weren’t so wrapped up in all kinds of immoral, black magic, bull-shittery, you would have liked to imagine that maybe that had been the sound of his heart cracking in his stupid, embroidery-covered, chest.  

You popped up from your chair and breezily made your way to the exit. You propped yourself up against the intricate, wooden, frame and clapped your hands together like a bubbly preschool teacher addressing a room full of particularly dull children.  

“I’m glad we could get that out in the open in a completely pain-free way. Words really can’t hurt anyone!”

You managed to slip the door closed just as he started to wail.

.

.

That afternoon you made your way to Professor Crewel’s office, as had become your routine. It was nice. Sometimes you would help him grade papers, sometimes you would just nibble on fancy cookies and listen as he ranted about the incompetence of certain staff members which shall not be named.

Sometimes his dogs were with him in the afternoons—a pair of giant, lithe, wolf-like beasts that were most certainly of a very proud and expensive lineage. Jasper was the black one and Badun the white, and each had a coat so glossy and well-maintained that they could put your own hair care to shame. Badun was enthusiastic, charismatic, and would bound to greet anyone who entered. Jasper was more quiet, reserved, but he was secretly your favorite of the duo. Whenever you stopped in after classes, the shadowy hound would lumber over and rest his giant head in your lap.

“No puppies today?” you called when you were greeted with silence rather than a wave of happy kisses.

“They’re in for their groom,” Crewel mumbled, busy at work with his head bowed over some lab reports or other. Normally he would grouchily correct you that his two precious pooches were adults. Dogs. And should be addressed as such. He must have been really distracted today. Or maybe you were just wearing him down.

You settled into the lovely, plush, chair off to the side that you had long since claimed as your own, and set your bookbag on the floor by your feet with a thump.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence with nothing but the sound of scratching ink over paper to break up the monotony, Professor Crewel dropped his head into his hands with a miserable sort of sigh.

“You should not have spoken to Crowley as you did.”

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“I of all people understand how frustrating the Headmaster’s antics can be,” Crewel continued, firm. “But you are still a student of this Institution—and one in a precarious enough position as it is. So you need to be mindful of your tongue.”

Indignation roiled through your gut, followed by a sharp prick of disquiet that you couldn’t quite place.

“Then he should be mindful to treat me like a student and not some—some pet project,” you huffed, kicking irritably at your patched backpack for want of nothing else to do. “And besides, what’ll he even do? Expel the one person in this entire college who mops up every single one of his messes? And I mean, it’s not like he’s running around the school crying or anything. I wasn’t that mean.”

Crewel pinched the bridge of his nose and you paused, mouth parting in surprise.

“Oh come on, he did not.”

“In the name of preserving our esteemed leader’s dignity I will say no more on the matter,” he grit out, and you fought the urge to immediately whip out your phone to message Ace, and Cater, and every other rabid gossip you could think of.

“Well, maybe he deserved it,” you snipped, crossing your arms stubbornly across your chest. A bit of cautious warmth spread through you and you nervously plucked at one of the loose threads on your uniform sleeve. “And besides,” you mumbled. "He can cry about me calling him a shitty father all he wants. You’ve been way more of a dad to me here than he could ever try to be.”

“I beg your pardon.”

You froze, fingers locking in place around the picked-apart edges of your jacket. The ice in his voice was unfamiliar and entirely unpleasant. It sent a frigid wave of worry curling through your veins. Had you overstepped? You’d thought—You’d just thought—

“I-I mean,” you spluttered. “I only meant that, well… Uhm… You’re really nice to spend time with. A-And, I just…” He made you feel like you were home again. Like even though Ramshackle was empty and cold, that you could still walk into this little office and say ‘I’m back!’ to an actual, real-life person and not just the shadows that lived in your foyer.

“Let me be perfectly clear, Prefect,” he sneered. There was an undercurrent of hostility running so sharply through every word that you were left wondering frantically if you’d unintentionally trampled over a sensitive topic. You hadn’t thought it was a big deal. You just—you just really, really looked up to him. And felt safe with him. And—And—

‘I’m sorry,’ you wanted to say. But instead you just let out an odd kind of choked squeak.

“I have no intention of playing parent to anyone,” he snapped. “Let alone an untrained brat who can’t even be bothered to play civil with the people who do attempt to care for them.”

Ouch.

“R-Right,” you spluttered, swallowing around the burbling lump in your throat and the warmth prickling along your lash line. “O-Of course. I’m sorry for assuming. I—I… uhm…”

‘I’ll just go then.’

But just like with failed apology, those four little syllables just couldn’t seem to make it past your lips either. So instead you just shakily snatched your bag from the floor and bolted from his office, burrowing your stinging cheeks as far into your collar as they would go. The last thing you needed to do was give anyone at this stupid school any more ammunition against you. And ‘Cry Baby Prefect’ sounded like another nasty nickname that would stick to you like gum to a flat-heeled shoe.

It’s fine, you whispered to yourself, voice wobbling far more than you would have liked. Grim hated when you came back smelling like dogs anyways.

.

.

“My goodness, are you alright?”

You blinked, harried, and glanced around yourself properly for what felt like the first time in hours. You were… not on campus anymore. Huh. What a trip. You’d never been so upset that you’d blindly run off into an entire new town before. But you supposed there was a first time for everything. You did remember feeling too nauseous to return to your little hovel for the evening, but you hadn’t really expected your frantic pacing to take you quite this far out of the way.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

Oh. Someone was talking to you, weren’t they?

Standing in front of you was a tall, lanky, man in a tweed jacket. He was stooped down a bit to make eye contact with you, and those hazel eyes were creased with worry. His blonde hair was pushed half-off his forehead in a style that looked more haphazard than intentional, and the hand he was offering you was littered with splotches of ink. There were patches of white and black dog fur littered across his entire outfit like some horrible fashion statement, and the thought of puppies made your throat tighten up all over again.

“My name is Cliff Rogerson,” he said, steady and kind. “I’m one of the instructors at the Royal Sword Academy. Are you lost? Do you know how to get home from here?”

Do you know how to get home?

You laughed once, manic, and then promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, dear,” he sighed, his heavy brow furrowing low with concern, and patted you consolingly on the shoulder. “Oh, dear.”

You were herded into a nearby café and directed into one of the quiet, corner, booths. The lights were soft and fuzzy in here, and the pleasant warmth of fresh pastries brushed gingerly along your frayed nerves. Mister Rogerson pressed a steaming mug of hot chocolate into your hands, and placed a delicately wrapped muffin off to the side of it. It was a tempting offering, and you decided to unbury your head from your hands long enough to partake.

“So how did you end up out here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m a student at Night Raven,” you mumbled into your cocoa.

You could tell he was doing his best not to look shocked, which was at least a dozen steps above the way the rest of your stupid school would just gawk at you in outright consternation.

“Forgive me,” he smiled, gentling his apprehension into something that was more polite curiosity that anything. “But you don’t really seem like one of their usual pupils.”

So you explained your situation—the Mirror, and the magiclessness, and the homelessness. You talked about your friends, and your new demon cat/evil baby, and how much you missed stupid things like good shower pressure and fuzzy socks. Mister Rogerson listened to all of it with an attentive sort of sympathy that you hadn’t seen since, well, probably since you were dropped face-first into a school full of burgeoning war criminals.  

“That sounds like a time and a half,” he said once you’d finally tired yourself out. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that.”

You picked at your muffin. It was ridiculously fluffy and eating it felt like pulling bits and pieces out of a cloud. A very, very delicious cloud.

“Forgive me for saying so,” he hummed, pensive. “But your situation doesn’t sound particularly safe.”

You laughed. “That’s one word for it.”

Mister Rogerson frowned, another twitch of that uneasy worry playing across his face. He ruffled around in his jacket pocket for a moment and pulled out a neat, cream colored, business card.

“It may be overstepping of me to offer, but at the same time I do think as an educator it’s my duty to try and help every student that I can,” he smiled, kind. It crinkled the skin around his eyes. “The RSA is not overly far from Night Raven College. If you ever want to stop by—if you ever need an ear to listen, or just a space to get away from it all—my door will always be open to you.”

You took the little piece of paper carefully, like it was something precious. There were swirls of colorful music notes splattered across the backdrop of it—raucous bursts of neons that were as endearing as they were ugly.

‘Tacky,’ spat a too-familiar voice in the back of your head. ‘What sort of statement was this lowlife trying to make?‘ You could practically feel the phantom distaste emanating from wherever a certain two-toned professor had camped out for the evening.

Probably at home, you thought bitterly. Because he has a home, right? And you are not at all upset that you will never be welcomed into it. And that you will probably never get to cuddle his puppies ever again. Nope. Not at all.

You swallowed the little burst of unpleasantness that accompanied the train of thought, and pocketed the card with a smile.

“Thank you. I’ll definitely have to take you up on that.”

.

.

.

Divus Crewel was many things, and unfortunately, being as cruel as his namesake was often one of them. He glanced back to the clock ticking on his wall for what was perhaps the dozenth time that hour. You hadn’t been by since his—ah—outburst a few weeks prior.

He had perhaps reacted a bit more unpleasantly than he normally would have. You’d just… caught him off guard was all. It was a bold declaration you’d made, and what? Had you really expected him to be overjoyed by the idea of forced parenthood? To swoon over the notion that someone had decided to latch onto him and his perfectly pressed suit like a leech despite the fact that he was so obviously thriving in his life of solitude?

And it wasn’t that he expected you to take his biting comments lying down. Oh no. You were fierce, and determined, and were most likely on your way here to bang down his door demanding recompenses for all your suffering. There was a tray of those too-expensive cookies you liked tucked away in his top drawer. Just in case you did show up and throw one of your tantrums, and he needed something quick to pacify you. That… That was all.

But each day that he waited for you to sneak back into his office was another spent in quiet solitude. Badun had taken to whining at the door and Jasper hardly got up from his bed at all—just tucked his black nose into his equally black paws and stared straight into Crewel’s soul. Like he was judging him.

He caught himself glancing at the clock again and forcibly turned back to his work.

This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous. And stubborn. And so, very, danger prone. Had something happened maybe? Was that why you’d disappeared—because you’d gotten caught up in some sort of trouble again?

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick—

He looked back at the clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick—

His office door flew open with a BANG and he swiveled in his chair, ready to chastise you for making such a ridiculous entrance. Instead, he ended up nearly nose-to-nose with a weeping Dire Crowley. The man wailed into his clawed hands, looking very much like he might accidentally stab himself in the eye all the while.

“HOW AM I SUCH A FAILURE OF A PARENT?!” he bawled. “WHAT COULD I HAVE DONE TO PREVENT THIS?!”

“What?” Crewel gaped, head spinning. “What’s happened?”

Crowley let out another inhuman squawk and shoved a piece of parchment into the alchemist’s crimson-gloved hands. It was torn at the top, likely from where it’d been pinned to something before the raving Headmaster had swiped it. Crewel read over the familiar script with narrowed eyes, something unpleasant twisting in his belly.

‘The Ramshackle Prefect kindly sends their regards, but unfortunately has other commitments for this evening. Please contact Professor Cliff Rogerson of the RSA music department in case of an emergency.’

“MY BABY LEFT ME!” Crowley sobbed, nearly inconsolable. “WHO’S GOING TO DO MY TAXES NOW?!”

The leather of Crewel’s gloves groaned in protest as his hands tightened into fists—his nails biting into his palm even through the sturdy material.  

“What do we even do?” the old crow lamented, sounding so genuinely crestfallen it was almost unnerving.

Jasper and Badun circled their master’s ankles wearily, eyes bright and lips twitching with nervous whines.

“I think,” Crewel grit out, the note crumpling between his fingers, “that it’s well past time that we have a chat with the Prefect about the importance of personal safety. And of the consequences of running off with strangers.”

.

.

.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #My Writing #NRC Staff #NRC Staff x Reader #Divus Crewel x Reader #Dire Crowley x Reader #The NRC Staff's Horrible Parenting #Heroes vs. Villains #Crewel x Reader #twisted wonderland OCs #twst ocs #Divus Crewel #Dire Crowley #Heroes vs Villains The NRC Staff Part 1

[non-stop-imagines]

what about Maxie finding out that the reader hid the fact that she’s sick since she knows how protective he is. Perhaps a spanking 🙈 since he found out through another person #RepeatThatBlurb

It's so funny how often I get messages of people just randomly 'thinking of Maxie" 😂 and you can tell that we all have kinda just created our own delusional fantasy world Max.😚 Anyway let's get it. 💖

Just Tell Me When You're Sick

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Black Content Creator!Reader ( Halle Bailey face claim)

Word Count: about 500 words (again I didn't count 😊)

Warning: Reader is sick and lied about it, mention of food, spanking and slight NSFW description, Max is stern but it's because reader still doesn't understand that he doesn't want her to lift a finger ever 😚

Translation: lief=dear; mijn liefde=my love

_____★_____

Standing outside of the Red Bull motorhome, now that it has been mostly cleared of Qatar paddock visitors, Max had his fingers typing away on his phone letting you know how media day went. You were absent this weekend, as you told Max that you had to stay and prepare for an event you were going to in LA, but that was a lie. It wasn't a major lie, because there was an event, but said event wasn't for a couple of months. And sure, a race weekend without you wasn't exactly ideal for Max, but he was getting through.

"Hey, sorry to hear Yn wasn't feeling well. I know that's a presence that'll be missed this weekend." Carmen approaches Max with a gentle touch on the arm as he continued tapping out a long text to you, a habit he only just started after you and him began dating. He was at a part where he was reassuring you that he wasn't anymore snarky than he usually was during the press conference, but hearing Carmen's condolences made him stop in his tracks.

"No, she's just staying home because she had to start getting ready for a trip to Los Angeles..." He adjusted the cap on his head and puts his phone in his pocket, pausing his text to you. The squint he gave Carmen made her simultaneously want to run away and spill every secret she knew.

"It-it must've just set in. I, uh, texted her to let her know that she was missed in the paddock today and she replied saying that she didn't feel well and...oh." As Carmen read the text on her phone verbatim, her voice trailed off as she realized the mistake she made. "Damn it."

"And what?" Defeated, Carmen just turns the phone to Max so he could read the rest of the message himself. 'Makes sure Max doesn't find out, he doesn't know I'm sick.' was what it read. "You can't be fucking serious."

"Sorry, I didn't-I'm just gonna go..." Carmen begins to back away when Max pulls his phone out of his pocket. What he wanted to do was use it to teleport himself to you, but the best he knew he could do was FaceTime you and he didn't even want to do that. And he couldn't text because he knew the tone of his text wouldn't be conveyed correctly. He'll just have to wait until the weekend was over. He deleted everything he wrote and just sent a text that let you know that everything went fine that day.

"No, thank you for letting me know." He flashes the best smile he could, then heads back into the motorhome to figure out what was keeping everyone.

_____★_____

You havent heard from Max since Thursday, which was highly uncharacteristic of him when he was away from you for longer than an hour. But you had watched each session of the race that weekend, or at least you did when you weren't knocked out from your medicine, and had noticed how tense he was, how he was snippier to GP and how he seemed to rush towards his win this time, nearly 20 seconds ahead of Oscar in second. He was short in his interview and spent as little time as he could on the podium, and you could cut the tension in the cool down room with a knife, with the two McLaren drivers huddled together on the opposite side of the room saying very few words to your brooding boyfriend. He was obviously mad about something, but unless Carmen let it slip that you were sick, you had no idea of what it could've been.

You were in the kitchen, face burning up but a blanket draped over your shoulders as you attempted to make chicken noodle soup. You've made it many times before, but with your brain clouded by sickness, following the recipe has proven to be a challenge. That and you were severely disappointed that you had to use canned chicken as you were out of fresh chicken and definitely not up to going to get any. You had only just gotten the pot of water on the stove and salted when you hear the front door of the apartment open and close. There were no words, just the ominous clomp of Max's shoes dropping onto the floor and heavy steps as he headed straight for you at the stove.

"Maxie! You're back!" You try your best to sound chipper, but the strain the tone put on your throat was brutal, and your voice had an obvious rasp.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" He turned off the stove and leaned against the counter, his stern neutral face sending a shiver down your spine.

"If I told you, you know you would've stayed with me, even if it was a race weekend. Either that or you would've forced me to come, damn whoever catches what I have." You roll your eyes, an action that you immediately regret as it irritates your headache.

"Exactly, what's so wrong with that?" Max shrugs, face still unemotional as he reaches his hand out to feel your forehead, the heat of your fever radiating from you before he even touches you. "You're burning up." He whispers to himself while you go to answer his previous nonchalant question.

"You're either missing a race or I infect a whole paddock of people. And I refuse to be patient zero." Max shrugs again, his eyes widening briefly to nonverbally show that both scenarios were risks he was willing to take. "You're impossible. Geez." You reach to turn back on the stove but Max grabs your wrist before you could, keeping his grasp on your wrist as his face finally changed while visually observing you, eyebrows scrunching together.

"Okay fine, I wouldn't actually do either of those, but do you know how it felt finding out you were sick through Carmen, instead of you just telling me?" You avoided eye contact with him, realizing that it may not have hurt to tell him you weren't feeling, at the very least once he was in Qatar, so he at least was aware of the real reason you would be absent. He brought his other hand to your chin so you could look at him again. His face was softer and more caring. "If you told me, I could've made sure that you had everything you needed before I left. Like soup." He tilts his head to the salted water in the pot on the stove, a grin teasing the corner of his lips.

"I know. But I took care of myself just fine, fyi." You were playfully defiant in your rebuttle, but it still brought a subtle darkness to his eyes.

"You don't have to. And as long as you're my girlfriend, you won't have to." He flashes that smile he gives when he states something that he believes should be known universally, a slightly condescending yet sweet grin that made your heart race. "Which reminds me..." He begins to head to the bedroom, his grip on your wrist giving you no choice but to follow him.

"Reminds you of what? Maxie?" He pulls you into the room, beelines it to the bed, plops himself on the edge while seamlessly pulling you to him and tossing you over his lap, the smallest shocked shriek coming from you in the process. The blanket you had wrapped around you had long been lost, so all that was in view for Max was your butt, half exposed due to the sinfully short length of your pajama shorts, which was all Max needed.

"You just can't seem to get it through your head that I am here to help you. So we'll just have to try a different approach." His hand slowly gropes the bottom of your exposed butt, running along the curve before delivering a sharp slap to it.

"Ow! What the fuck, Max!?" With Max man-spreading where he sat, your ass and upper body were supported by his legs, so to look at him with the confusion and shock you would obviously have in this situation, you just had to look over your shoulder. It did unfortunately agitate your head again, making you groan and turn back around.

"I worried about you all weekend, lief." His hand groped your ass again before delivering another smack. Neither were extremely painful, but caused enough of a sting for you to want him to stop, despite the nagging part of your brain that was turned on by his sweet sternness. "I don't know why you won't just let me help you..." Another smack was applied to your ass causing another whimper to drip from your lips.

"Okay, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You whine frantically as you felt his hand retract again.

"Sorry for what, mijn liefde?" He goes back to groping your butt again, his other hand picking at loose locs that didn't make it into your quick bun that you put up days before.

"For not telling you I was sick." You yelp when he spanks you again after you admit your assumed fault, running his hand over the stinging spot.

"Lying to me, but we'll go with that. What else?" He was still massaging the abused area of your butt, and it was in this moment you realized tone never got harsh, which was something that intrigued you. He was never harsh or mean, only ever stern in wanting you to understand that he was there to help you. This was a new way of showing it, and you were unsure of how you felt about it as you felt yourself becoming more and more aroused with each spank, but at the moment you would do whatever you could to make it end.

"I-i don't-" Another stinging smack had you racking your brain for something you could say. "For-um-not asking for help! And for just not coming to you when I know I can." You brace yourself for another spank but it doesn't come.

"Get in the bed, love." Max helps you back off of his lap and get up from the edge of the bed so you could climb in. Once you were fully under the cover, Max pressed a long kiss to your forehead before making sure you had the remote for the TV. "I love you, okay? And all I ever want is to make life easier for you. You don't have to hide anything from me."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." He was hovering over you, a hand on either side of your head as you looked up at him with the doe eyes that make him melt everytime. You knew he cared, he just showed it in his own seemingly emotionless way, so you often forgot that he has only ever wanted what was best for you.

"No, no need for sorry. I'll try to be a bit nicer about it." He flashes you that bright smile you love. He doesn't show it often, but it made him look sweet, and diffused the admittedly scary aura he gives off. "What were you making out there? Chicken noodle?" He began to back towards the door so he could finish the soup for you and bring you more medicine.

"Yeah." Your voice got softer than before, as you finally allowed yourself to settle into the bed and be taken care of.

"Okay, I'll be right back." Max leaves the room and you turn on the TV, but a sudden onset of loneliness kicks in. "Hey Maxie! Could you bring..." You didn't even have to finish your request when Max came back in with your cat and your phone, which you honestly forgot you left out in the kitchen.

"Don't yell, lief. You'll hurt your throat. Text if you need something." He presses another kiss to your head before heading to the bedroom door again.

"Thank you, Maxie." You watched him leave the room, fingernails scratching the head of the cat in your lap.

"You're welcome, my love." He only turns his head to speak to you and flash one more soft grin as he exits the room again to finally make his way to the kitchen. "I am not using fucking canned chicken in this soup. I'll be right back. I'm going to the store." In quick successions you hear his keys jingle, his shoes clomp in the floor, and the front door shut.

#anon #black reader #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #request #formula 1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

[hrts4scarr]

ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog 2 ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙part two who cheered !?﹚

˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱

JENSON COULDN'T HELP BUT look at the red bull racer's sister eating her lunch with some of her co-workers. she fit right in and right away, even only after a week. she was smiling. oh, her smile. it was different than how she smiled with her brother. how jenson would do anything to make her smile that genuine smile she had with her brother.

"staring at my sister, huh?"

jenson whipped his head around to see sebastian vettel. he opens his mouth then closes it as he sees the fellow driver's raised eyebrows.

sebastian's cold face cracks into a grin. he throws his head back and laughs. "you should have seen the look on your face!"

jenson grumbles under his breath.

"alright, all jokes aside, please don't play with my sisters heart." sebastian puts a hand on jenson's shoulder.

"why would i ever-" jenson starts as he looks at him, but seb raises his eyebrows.

jenson purses his lips. "i.. alright, maybe you're right and i'm sorry."

seb sighs softly. "i'm just looking out for my sister, alright? i love her very much, with all my heart. i don't want to see it broken. i don't want to see *her* broken. just please, promise me."

"i promise." jenson nods sternly.

〜

days after days, you and jenson had formed a friendly and healthy relationship, in which you both hoped would never be ruined. every time you laughed or smiled, you didn't know the thoughts lingering behind the eyes that shined when you did so. you've opened up more and more, finally showing the fun side of you.

jenson hoped to keep it that way. he hoped that your friendship would never be ruined. he'd never felt this way before, and he didn't know whether you felt the same way or not. being the infamous playboy he was, of course he didn't want to break your heart like he did to the other girls. he made a promise to your brother, a promise he could and would never break. you were too dear to him, too precious. he didn't want to break you. he vowed to, with all his life and heart, and he would never admit that to anyone or to himself.

so from then on, he kept it a secret. a secret he couldn't bear. and little did he know, that you on the other hand, was starting to catch feelings too. and you would never admit that to yourself either.

you both had fallen too hard to ever want to break your relationship. your personalities might be polar opposites, but the way you both want to keep your loved ones close and protected was a trait you shared.

jenson, the infamous playboy he was known as, obviously had toyed with a 'few' girls hearts. he's not one to think before he acts. he's the outgoing, social golden retriever.

you were oftenly known is the black cat, and the studiouss quiet kid. you were known by everyone, but not exactly popular. you plan out your movements carefully, always one step ahead. perfect match, honestly.

but further more, jenson made you feel special. you wanted to deny that feeling that made you think, 'he probably gives this treatment to every girl.' but oh, how you were wrong.

he would never offer to carry an item that weighed less than a pound for the 'other' girls. ("here, let me help you with that." "jenson, i can carry it, it's fine!! it's literally just a-" "no, please just let me help." and of course you had to give in to those helpless eyes. that effect he had on you made you weak in the knees.) he would never buy the 'other' girls special and thoughtful gifts. ("please, darling, this is my treat." "but jens-" "i said it once and ill say it again. my. treat.") he would never follow those 'other' girls around like he did to you, like a dog on a leash. ("walk him like a dog." seb snorted. "shut up!!" you muttered, feeling your cheeks get slightly red. jenson rolled his eyes, continuing to follow you neverless.)

it was never those 'other' girls, who he never even talked to anymore ever since he had met you. it's always been you. and from then, it would never change.

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i MIGHTTT take some blurb and part requests for this series, so ill lyk if i do!!﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚

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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!

#౨ৎ﹔💌 ┄ scar's works ! 🪽 #౨ৎ﹔🏎️ ┄ scar's works ! 🪽 #ᯓ 𐙚 walk him like a dog fic ˚⋆. #hrts4scarr #lvrzzscarr #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula 1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula one #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one imagine #f1blr #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 edit #f1 x you #fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #f1 x female reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

i just remembered this post or comment somewhere online where some girl said her bf accused her and thought she was cheating cause he didn’t know what discharge was (in her underwear)….. reminds me of konig 🧍 LOL

My dear lovely anon, König is so in this picture and he doesn't even know it ❤️

"Who is he? "

König marches into the room like a storm cloud. You've gotten so used to his delusional behavior by now that the only thing that makes you flinch is his tone of voice, now more hostile than ever. You're hanging your clothes to dry and try to turn as softly as you can, be as calm with your question as you can.

"What…? Who?"

He stands there with his feet planted wide, shoulders raised to his ears, chin to chest, eyes blazing inside the hood.

"Your lover."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent. You even let him cum inside you?"

He throws your blush pink panties on the floor, the dirty ones he's clearly picked up from the laundry basket, and it takes a while for you to understand that he thinks the white stains on them are some other man's sperm.

Just the fact that he just threw your dirty underwear on the floor like murder evidence, just the sight of them there before you makes you feel awkward and uncomfortable, but it's his absurd accusation that brings your hands over your mouth.

He thinks you have some other man you run to when he's away, who fills you up when he's not there to please you, that you come home with his cum dripping out of you…

"I can't believe you, Engel," he almost trembles with rage, his voice booming from thinking you're cheating on him. "After everything we've–"

"König," you stop him in the middle of his fit, dropping your hands back to your sides.

"Baby. It's not... sperm," you explain calmly while he's breathing like an enraged bull before you.

This is crazy... Crazy and ridiculous.

"It's just discharge," you continue to explain. "It's how a woman's body works. There's period blood, and then there's… this."

You can't believe you're having this conversation with him. You can't believe you had to live to see the day you have this conversation with any man.

The panties are still there between you, and his confused gaze flickers from them to you. Slowly, his breathing starts to even, but there's still that look of Are you just trying to fool me? in his eyes. You go to him, stepping over the cute little underthings. Placing a hand on his chest, you try to soothe him with touch.

"Did you smell it…?" You ask hesitantly, with heat gathering up to your cheeks.

"Yes," he squares his shoulders proudly, as if it's a normal, decent thing to do: to go around sniffing women's underwear.

"Did it smell of cum?"

"...No. It smelled of you."

"Well there you have it," you soothe the wrinkles on his shirt with your hand. The tension in his broad shoulders finally starts to release. The relief in his aura is palpable as the realization sinks in, the realization that you've always been faithful and it's only his angel's sweetness staining that cute, pink cotton.

"You're silly," you declare, giving him a small smile as you cup his face through that black hood. He grumbles softly, and a warmth spreads to your chest: it doesn't really matter if he's agreeing or disagreeing with your announcement, as long as he's calm again.

"What were you doing in my laundry bin anyway…?"

#answered #könig imagine #könig fluff #yandere könig #he's clueless and a perv ❤️ #jealous könig

[notapradagurl7]

Could've Been.(+18)

Leon Simmons x Black Fem! Reader.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @henneseyhoe @wide-nose-and-wonderful @planetblaque

Summary: On a quiet nightly stroll from a meeting with Franklin, Leon visits you and confesses his feelings for you.

A/N: I was binge-watching Snowfall and decided to write about Leon’s fine self. 😩 whew enjoy!🫶❤️

————

The young adult male walked, the dark sky loomed over him like an endless abyss. The snow-moonlit rays cast a hauntingly beautiful glow on his caramel skin, causing the clouds above to appear faintly white. In the distance, a grey pit bull's constant barking echoed through the stillness, its paws clattering against a silver chain-link fence. The flickering of the bright orange streetlight added to the noise, its constant buzz causing his face to twist up in irritation. With each step, the flat soles of his low-top black Converse met the cold concrete with a resounding thud.

Leon strolled aimlessly down the sidewalk, lost in thought after his talk with Franklin. The job of peddling goods to his people and being Franklin's bodyguard was finally behind him. Although he and Franklin remained good friends, Leon's mind was distracted with someone else entirely - his dear friend Y/N.

You and Leon's friendship blossomed when the two of you first met through Wanda, who used to be your closest friend until addiction took hold of Wanda. Together, the two friends tried to help Wanda overcome her drug habit, but it was a difficult battle. Despite the setbacks, Leon refused to give up on her. When Wanda was rushed to the hospital, Leon reached out to You and you hurried to his side, taking a seat in the gray cushioned armchair next to him as they sat by Wanda's bedside.

You observed the longing glances he threw toward Wanda, you placed a consoling hand on his back, hoping to relieve his pain as he leaned against your shoulder. Despite your ease of forgiveness, he persisted in blaming himself and offering apologies that he couldn't bring himself to accept.

Although Leon and Wanda weren't dating at the time, You felt that it was not the right time to express your feelings for Leon, given the chaos surrounding them. Eventually, Wanda got her life together, and you and Leon were happy for her. You thanked Leon for his unwavering support and for paying the expenses of Wanda's recovery.

You planted a kiss on his cheek in appreciation, Leon felt his heart skip a beat. He reminisced about the moments when you stood by his side and was grateful for you. When Wanda announced her decision to move away from South Central, Los Angeles, in search of a better life, Leon and You wished her all the best.

The piercing bark of a grey pit bulldog echoed through the air, Leon lifted his head in response. A wide grin immediately spread across his face as he recognized the familiar pooch - Juno, your beloved dog. Without hesitation, the canine leaped onto Leon's knees, earning a light chuckle from the man.

Squatting down to Juno's level, Leon greeted her with affection. "Long time no see, Juno. you've been a good girl for Y/N?" he asked, his hand gently stroking her fur. The devoted dog let out a soft whine in response, and Leon hummed appreciatively. As he continued to pet her, his thumb slowly caressed the top of Juno's head.

"Juju! You can't keep running off and jumping on strangers―," you exclaimed as you hurriedly crossed the empty street.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Leon, causing you to come to an abrupt halt. You sported a comfortable black tank top and matching shorts with black slides, and your freshly styled raven box braids swayed with every step.

Attired in a fresh ensemble, he sported a crisp white tee, attended by a rich brown belt at his waist, and a pair of pants in a dust sandy hue. An elegant Figaro chain draped across his collarbone, while his feet were adorned with sleek, low-top black converse. His belt installed a pager and a trusty Desert Eagle. His cornrows were tightly braided in neat rows, looking as if they had been recently tended to.

"Am I a stranger now?" Leon teased, placing his hand over his heart as you chuckled. Juno, their furry companion, trotted back to your side as their gazes locked. "You haven't changed, Y/N," Leon said, grinning as he stood up from his crouched position.

"But I think I've matured a bit." You joked softly, giggling a bit.

"What brings you out here Lee?" You curiously asked him.

"Just strolling down the street, had a chat with Franklin and then Juno's barks caught my attention. Is it cool if I join you for a little while?" he replied to you.

"Certainly, come on in, it's getting cold outside."

—————

After Leon entered, you quickly shut and secured the front door. Together, the two of you walked into a cozy, medium-sized living room with four walls painted a soft shade of rosy red. The four walls were decorated with an array of framed artworks and family pictures. The sweet scent of vanilla wafted through the air, stemming from a trio of candles. While they entered, Leon noticed Juno resting on the plush coffee cream carpet, her ears perking up at every sound.

"Lee, would you like something to drink or eat?" You inquired, seating yourself on the right side of the red suede couch as he seated himself on the left.

"No, thank you. I'm straight," Leon responded, signaling his refusal with a raised right hand.

You raven box braids gathered into a ponytail by your left hand, secured them with a black hair tie before asking, "How have you been?"

"I've been doing well," Leon replied, a smile forming on his lips.

"I stopped selling products to my people and I'm not Franklin's bodyguard anymore. How about you?" He asked you, raising a brow.

Your hands clapped together at the news. "That's fantastic to hear! my job as an administrator is really starting to grow on me." you replied, smiling at him.

Leon grinned, feeling happy for your newfound contentment. "That's great to hear. Can I tell you something?"

"Of course, anything." you nodded at him, slightly tilting his head, "Well, I've been thinking about us a lot lately and-" Leon was cut off by you, "You don't have to apologize for Wanda's addiction. It's not your fault," you interrupted, your voice gentle yet firm.

"I remember when she was your best friend, and I felt like nobody was going to help her," Leon said, reminiscing on the past.

You smiled reassuringly. "But she's doing much better now, Leon." you placed your hands on his shoulders to let him it's okay.

He nodded in agreement. "You know, Y/N, I've been thinking... Do you think we could've been a couple?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. "What makes you ask that?" you asked him, "Well, you stuck by me when you could've left me alone with Wanda. We've been through some shit too, and I need to know... Do you want to be with me?" Leon asked, nervously.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Of course, I want to be with you," you confessed, taking his face in your hands.

Your lips crashed into each other, and the two of you broke apart only briefly to speak. You stood up from the couch, grabbing Leon's hand. He followed your to the doorway of your bedroom.

————

Your back slouched against the crimson bed sheets as your skin brushed against the soft fabric after every stroke, His hands gripped your ankles, tugging at them as he pushed his hips into yours with increasing force. his hands planted on either side of your head. You whimpered and moaned softly, lost in the pleasure of the moment. "Your pussy is amazing," he said, his voice low and seductive. You bit your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat between your legs. He grabbed your thighs, pulling them up to rest on his shoulders. He quickened his pace, his nails digging into your skin. You cried out.

He rolled his hips to quicken his pace and dug his fingernails into your brown skin. A low grunt escaped his lips, causing you to cry out in pleasure. "Oh fuck," and then "I want the whole neighborhood to hear you." Leon groaned in response, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he continued his powerful thrusts. Your breasts bounced with every stroke, and Leon admired the sight of your wet folds clenching around him.

"You're so wet and pretty," Leon teased, his eyes fixated on you. He pinned both of your legs over your head, eliciting a sharp gasp from your. "Shit, girl," he groaned, causing you to whimper with pleasure. Your knees grazed your erect nipples, and you moaned his name loudly. "Leon, fuck," you chanted, your palm pressing against his abdomen as you struggled to catch your breath. Your wet walls clenched tightly around him, and he leaned forward, desperate to feel even deeper inside of you.

"Move your hand..Take every inch of what's yours.."Leon's voice was low and commanding. Your hand moved over, you could feel his thin gold chain dangling in front of your face, the beads of sweat glistening in the dim light. As he kissed you deeply, you moaned softly, your leg trembling with each thrust. his thrusts growing slower. You came hard as your essence trickled around him, your wet walls gripping his dick as he pulled out, spilling his seed onto your red silk sheets.

Leon kissed your forehead tenderly. They were both breathing heavily, their hearts ounding out of their chests.

"I'm sorry about your sheets, baby," Leon said, rubbing the back of his neck apologetically. "It's alright, I'll switch them out, but your hair is everywhere," you replied, running your fingers through his unbraided curls.

"Don't worry about it, I don't mind," Leon shrugged nonchalantly.

You gently cupped his face in your palms and you gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. "I can rebraid it for you.."

―———

#black!reader #black writer #black!fem!reader #18+ only #franklin saint #Leon Simmons #black reader #snowfall #snowfall fx #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction

[meowmeowriley]

WAIT but to see real bunny ghost boxing….. would we not need another bunny??? I nominate either Konig (bc big boy bunnies are amazing) or Farah (she strikes the fear of god into me like a wild hare). I was going to say Rudy, but he has too-perfect cow eyes to be anything elseeeee

Hare shifter Farah is now Canon here. I fucking love it. And once Ghost lets his secret out, Farah gets to admit that she knew all along. Takes one to know one. They're not the same, but similar enough. They do box. Both shifted and not, and it's a sight to behold. In both forms Ghost towers over Farah, but she's quick, she's tough, and Ghost loves the challenge.

Now... Cow Rudy... I have a confession. I grew up on a cattle farm and cows are extremely near and dear to my heart, I fucking love them. So I had to sit and think for a minute. I couldn't make him my beloved Angus, I will die on this hill, Angus cattle are the best. Fight me. BUT, this isn't about my preferences, and nobody wants to hear me go on for hours about what cattle breed is best, you just wanna know what Rudy is.

Corriente. A gorgeous Corriente bull, in a half shift he'll proudly display his upturned horns. Most Corriente are black, but can be nearly any color. Rudy is no exception to this, being fully glossy black, but don't be mistaken, he's absolutely stunning. Now this breed is not generally used for meat. No, they're use is in Rodeo and Roping. Rudy comes from a long line of rodeo bulls. Where do you think he and Ale met? Way back when Ale was a junior bull rider. And when Ale left the ring behind to join the army, Rudy's family was aghast by his decision to follow.

P.S. if you're looking for rabbit König, @konigs-bitch-ass-wife is writing a series of Rabbit Hybrid König, and I believe he's also a flemish giant.

#ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare #fanfic #simon ghost riley #rabbit shifter ghost #trans!ghost #shifter au #hare!farah #cow!rudy #cow shifter rudy #alejandro vargas #hare shifter farah #fanfic wip #mooties ♡ #writing mutuals

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hello there, glad to see you again, quick question how would the students, Professors and villains react to MC having an army of puffskein's like 27-41 puffskein's?

A/N: PUFFSKIENS ROLL OUT!! wait, wrong franchise-undercut because EVERYONE is here

HLC REACT TO MC'S PUFFSKIEN ARMY

MC had enough to swarm even the toughest camp. No one could handle the mass of cute they commanded. MC felt more powerful than if they were controlling an armada of dragons. Forget a few dozen. MC has HUNDREDS of rolly polly puff balls. They breed rather quickly

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He finds it hysterical! Watching MC command the flood of fur to overtake any suspicious encampment they come across is extremely entertaining. The enemies never know what hit them.

OMINIS GAUNT: He's not a fan of Puffskiens. He doesn't like their fascination with his nose. And for MC to willingly capture and breed so many of them is beyond him. He will never go inside the vivarium, even when invited.

ANNE SALLOW: She really likes hanging out in the vivariums. She can just lay down and be cuddled by hundreds of walking pillows. It's rather nice, as long as you wear nose plugs.

IMELDA REYES: Are they serious? No really, stop selling her this cock and bull story of puffskiens defeating wizards. She refuses to believe it until MC opens their nabsack and releases the horde. She has to escape them via broom.

NATSAI ONAI: She applauds MC's creativity. She is sure that the villains of the valley have many defenses against wizards, but who would expect puffskiens?

GARRETH WEASLEY: Unlimited puffskien fur. That's how he sees it. MC produces so much of the stuff, they could stuff a mattress.

LEANDER PREWETT: ...hhwat? This has got to be the single most insane thing he's ever heard of. A literal puffskien army? This will go down in the history books alongside the Bard that tried to teach trolls ballet.

AMIT THAKKAR: Are they sure that's actually safe? For them or the puffskiens? He knows the little things are pretty durable to magic, but they're not invulnerable.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He begs MC to let him borrow the nabsack to use in the Ravenclaw dorm. Why? They'll see.

POPPY SWEETING: This is a lot, even for her. Is MC sure they can handle this many beasts? They may be small, and relatively docile, but they can be quite a handful even in small groups. She does love the irony of poachers and dark wizards being defeated by them, however.

~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: He'll admit, of all the ideas MC has had, this is one of the weirder ones. As long as they're sure they can actually take care of all those beasts, he won't interfere.

MATILDA WEASLEY: MC is doing what with an army of what? Nonono, absolutely not. MC getting themselves into trouble on purpose is bad enough, but she cannot allow a student to run amok with an irresponsible number of beasts in their pocket. She will confiscate that nabsack until MC can use it responsibly.

CHIYO KOGAWA: She's impressed. No matter how small, magical creatures tend to have minds of their own. One has to be a pretty strong leader to maintain control over such a large group.

AESOP SHARP: As long as those beasts aren't running amuck in the castle, he doesn't give a niffler's ass.

ABRAHAM RONEN: He is endlessly amused by MC's depth for whimsy, even in dire circumstances. Fighting off villains with Puffskiens? BRILLIANT!

MIRABEL GARLICK: Oh dear, she hopes MC is able to care and feed for all of those beasts. That seems like quite a few to take care of.

MUDIWA ONAI: Is this...normal for British wizards? Seems a bit eccentric.

BAI HOWIN: That's one way to handle the poaching problem, she supposes.

DINAH HECAT: She'll have a drink with Sharp. This isn't any of her concern. MC is doing just fine. Calm down Matilda, honestly.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He never knows the goings on outside of his classroom.

SATYAVATI SHAH: She swears on the nine realms, if she finds ONE puffskien hair in her classroom, she's taking house points.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: A student fighting dark wizards with puffskiens? Please, don't bore him with outright lies. He's too clever for those.

~~~

VICTOR ROOKWOOD: This is ridiculous!! It's bad enough he's losing territory and respect within the valley, but for his gang to be dismantled by bloody puffskiens!? It's embarrassing, to put it lightly.

ASHWINDERS: They're confused by the messages sent to them by Rookwood. "Beware the Puffskiens?" What's he going on about? They find out soon enough when the earth rumbles with rolling thunder as hundreds of fur balls descend on them.

POACHERS: Interestingly enough, puffskiens have been extraordinarily hard to find as of late. Perhaps they over poached the area and now they're gone. At least that's what they think, under they're buried under a mountain of fur.

RANROK: What. The actual. Grogtash? He has seen and heard of wizards doing some wacky things to fight back, but this is a first. Even when his loyalists use dark ancient magic against the horde, their numbers are too great.

~~~

DUNCAN HOBHOUSE: Lives in constant fear of the puffskien invasion. He sees them in his sleep. Hundreds of long, hungry tongues come to eat his brain! If he sees MC in the corridors, he runs away.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hl #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #imelda reyes #anne sallow #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting #hogwarts legacy professors #hogwarts legacy villians #victor rookwood #ranrok

[kiwisa]

brew-tiful ✩ dr03

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem! Barista! Reader

fluff • 500 words

IN WHICH... daniel should look at what he's ordering instead of making eyes at the pretty barista.

Anyone who happened to cross paths with Daniel every morning at 8:38 sharp, in that little cafe whose name never interested him, thought his caffeine addiction was beyond reason.

Mistakenly, but he could see where they were coming from.

If the black liquid was, indeed, an integral part of his life now, it was only because of the woman behind the counter, who he sacrificed a few dollars to every day. And God knew how much those little coins spent on this drink amounted to a fortune.

Even though money had never been an issue, let alone now ⏤ thanks to Red Bull and his new contract ⏤ he couldn't help but grit his teeth at the receipts piling up in his wallet. He couldn’t even bring himself to think of the sum spent between these four walls. Otherwise, a few tears would paint his face blue. For sure.

He didn't even like coffee... For that demonic liquid — seriously, who could drink this and enjoy it? — to slide on his tongue without making a grimace appear on his face, its bitter taste had to be drowned in milk and at least three sugars.

So why bother? You must wonder, dear reader.

“Ah Danny! I was starting to believe you weren't coming today!”

It was for that voice, full of joy, tenderness, and that laughter whose notes must have been put end to end by angels. It was for you, Y/N L/N, that the Australian man came here daily, even when his wallet was crying in pain, even when coffee was the bane of his entire existence.

“And not see my favourite barista? Impossible.”

There was something about you that made his heart panic, warmed his soul, and made him want to throw up sometimes because of your kindness. A rather interesting mix: some would call it “feelings.” You were the personification of happiness, a ray of sunshine in his life constantly marred by the routine of travel and racing.

Cheeks flushed, mind wandering to fantasies of his hand in yours, his lips against your forehead, he didn't notice the almost loving gaze you placed on him, nor did he feel your fingers brushing against his as you gave him the cup. An espresso. Hell in liquid form.

Not in your eyes, however, who constantly praised it. You had suggested it to him on his first visit ⏤ saying that it was your favourite way to drink coffee ⏤ and since then he had not yet broken this unspoken rule to order one daily.

Thanking you, avoiding your gaze, Daniel hastily left the cafe, like every morning at 8:46.

Like every morning at 8:47, he tried to take a sip of this infamous brew.

Like every morning at 8:51, he dropped the still hot drink in the bottom of the closest trash can.

Like every morning at 8:51, he didn’t notice the number written in a messy way, as if in a hurry, on the cardboard cup.

Better luck tomorrow, you thought.

✩ taglist !

@sad1esgf @muglermami @i0veless @16solace @kenanlotus0 @till1am @itsnotgray @lilsiz @starkwlkr @missflobelova @mehrmonga @fxllfaiiry @crimeshowjunkie @anicega @kosmosgalore @lovemarvel16 @charles-dimple @hiding-behindmy-glasses @exatse @serenityleah @flowerchild-96 @hopiiex @ivegotparticulartaste @jivas0 @screechingtrashkid @gxp30 @lauren--maex

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo blurb #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 rpf #formula one fanfiction #formula one oneshot #formula one x you #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo fanfic

[tarjapearce]

Hear me out the book of life x bbg miguel 😍 it could either be like La muerte reader and xibalba Miguel and if that’s to ooc for Miguel then Manolo Miguel and Maria reader🙏 I feel like it’s a little ooc either way but PLSSS😞🙏

🤭 It's fine dear. I think, Miguel would do a great job as El Catrin, I feel his personality is more inclined to go with it, and the reader, well, Xibalba. Mischievous, kinda tricky but still so so loving and a softie for him :')

No proofread, just randomness ahead

"Why would I want to rule the Land of the Forgotten?" Black wings tucked behind your back as you stared at Miguel. Red eyes blinked unamused at you.

"Why can't we share? I could do a pretty good job too."

"Mi cielo, Who would watch over the land? You have the talent for it."

"You're just saying that cause you don't wanna share. The Land of the Forgotten is boring! With capital B! Nothing ever happens. It's so depressing all the time. No colors, nothing!"

"It's your realm. You're there cause you cheated on a wager." His finger flickered your nose.

You groaned in annoyance. Of course you would try and ask but to no avail. His decision absolute.

"Let's make a wager then." Smirking you planted yourself before him, his nose flared softly but waited for you to finish.

"A wager?"

"Yes. A wager . See those two boys there? They're always fighting for that girl's attention. And you and I know that only one of them will come out victorious."

"And?" His eyebrow quirqued.

"If my boy wins, I'll have your land. If the other boy wins?-"

"You'll stop meddling with the affairs of men" He caressed your cheek before disappearing.

"But it's the only fun I have left, my dear! You scared of not winning?" Your fingers walked over his chest and smirked.

-----

The wager was on. He had blessed the boy he rooted for with a pure heart, but you on the other hand had given the little jerk of a kid, an ominously beautiful looking black and green medal. The Eternal Life Medal. Whoever wielded it could be no harmed not killed. Your plan had been on a roll without any signs of stopping. Now everything you had to do was wait.

----

The two boys turned into men, both persuing their passions. Yours turned into a respectable and famous soldier that always ended up living to tell the tale thanks to his magic medal none knew about. And Miguel's boy had grown into a famous bullfighter. Even though both were different the love they had for the girl, now a lovely looking woman, remained the same.

But you had seen the hesitation in Miguel's part of the bet. Despite him being a famous matador, he didn't wish to inflict any more pain in the poor animal. He wanted to sing.

The woman seemed impressed by his act of mercy. You would have to step up in your game if you wanted the Land of The Remembered.

----

A two headed sneak had bitten Miguel's boy, he had gladly took his role among the dead if that meant to rescue his beloved.

A rare sight among the perverse humans. A pure heart. Of course it was cheating, but it'd make you one step closer to be the ruler of such wonderful and colorful land.

---

Your name echoed through your old realm as Miguel roared, full of anger. He had discovered what you had done.

"Repugnante hija de burro leproso! Hiciste trampa. Otra vez!" ( You misbegotten daughter of leprous donkey. You cheated. Again!)

"I did not do such thing!"

His boy was there, facing you, needing answers. And so was Miguel.

---

You had put Jim through his worst fears, a maze that somehow he was able to decipher, and the final test. El Toro. (The Bull)

A manifestation of every single bull slayed by his ancestors.

-

Miguel's boy had won the wager. You were to return to your realm.

"I believe you've won the wager again mi amor. Just like my heart, all over again."

His eyes softened and a bony finger was brought to your chin.

"I'm really sorry my love. Would you ever forgive me?"

"I do"

He pulled you closer to give you a deep kiss as the skies exploded in colors.

-----

(Love this movie btw 🥹❤️)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #t writes✨ #book of life

[fox-guardian]

major if u ship Tim and Oliver does this mean their beloved children Poundcake and Mori have met. this is so fucking important

i have fantastic news

[ID: A monochrome comic on a pink background of Poundcake the pit bull and Mori the black cat. In the first two panels, Poundcake is drawn with more detail, while Mori is more of a vageuly cat-shaped blob with a face, and the final panel shows them with similar levels of higher detail. Poundcake and Mori are near each other, Poundcake standing and leaning close with big shiny eyes, and Mori hunched down in nervousness. Tim and Oliver speak off-screen.

Tim: Be sweet, pup-cake~ Oliver: Aw, Mori, it's okay!

Then Mori proceeds to bap Poundcake on the face with his paw, wrinkling her forehead, to which she does not react.

Tim: Oop- Oliver: Oh dear

Later, Poundcake is laying her head down and smiling as Mori gently holds her still with one paw as he grooms her just under her ear, purring.

Tim and Oliver: AWWWW

end ID]

#fg's art #the magnus archives #tma #tim stoker #oliver banks #tim's dog poundcake #mori banks #fg's answers #asks #cursing #it takes a moment for them to get used to each other but yes they meet and love each other so much #they're both a lil sillay so they're best buds #also i can't decide on what Build poundcake should be #should she be a little taller and slimmer?? or should she be built like a short brick shithouse #cuz this is kind of an inbetween but that's just what My dog looks like so alshdakjdh

[piplup335]

Medkit & reader who is Subspace’s sibling!

first request by @subspacekisser1, sorry if this is out of character! ;-; I’m new to Phighting 😭

-

The low murmur of customers added to the relaxing atmosphere of Slingshot’s Café. The two of you just completed a long and intense phight, and Medkit sat next to you, quietly sipping from a cup of black coffee.

In his opinion, any of the SFOTH deities showing up during a phight can and will always be a pain in the arse- and it just so happened that Firebrand showed up. His team wasn't the brightest, too…

"Skateboard, watch out. Your knee and elbow guards won't save you from third-degree burns, and neither will they save you from your medical bills.”

“Relax, Medkit! What’s the worst that can happpen?”

As he skated on to harass the enemy Biograft, a star-shaped symbol appeared on the ground in front of him.

It was orange. Orange…like blazing flames. Flames that could only come from one deity…

"Skateboard, watch your-"

Medkit was cut off by a yell from Skateboard as a column of fire shot up directly underneath him.

"-step...gosh, I don't get paid enough for this.”

Running towards Skateboard, Medkit was about to prepare a crystal to heal Skateboard’s burns when a panicked scream could be heard.

Boombox had been backed into a corner by a column of fire. He still got hit somehow, and now the opposing Biograft was charging towards the injured Boombox like a raging bull, swinging its energy swords as its eyes, despite being a robot, held some sort of bloodlust in its orange glow.

Medkit sighed. This will be annoying, he thought.

Using a crystal to heal Skateboard, Medkit used his free hand and prepared more crystals to teleport to Boombox. In the corner of Medkit’s eye, he caught a glimpse of light shining against tinted glass. Quickly dropping to the ground, Medkit barely avoided Hyperlaser’s shot, his helmet giving away his position and acting as Medkit’s saving grace.

Weaving between Hyperlaser’s relentless attacks and Firebrand’s flames was chicken feet compared to dealing with one person and one person alone.

Subspace.

And it just so happened that he was on the opposing team.

“Come on, Meddy!! Let’s have some fun, shall we?!”

Oh, dear Illumina…

Because of this, he was exhausted, and collapsed on a nearby bench once the phight was over. You had to drag him up yourself- he was too tired to get off.

Now, here you two were, sipping your drinks at Slingshot’s Café, watching demons pace back and forth between different shops, either running errands or just strolling around to enjoy the crisp air.

Medkit seemed to be lost in thought, however. He drank his black coffee silently, staring into space, not saying a word. Usually, when you two hung out like this after a phight, Medkit would occasionally start some small talk…but today was different. His eyes were glazed over, and you couldn’t help but notice something was off.

You were about to wave a hand in front of Medkit’s eyes to catch his attention and make sure he’s okay when he suddenly turned to you, his expression slightly more serious than usual.

“(Y/n), I am a bit concerned pertaining to you.”

You glanced at him, confused. What happened? Why was he concerned? This was uncommon, too. Medkit, the meticulous doctor who would always plan everything three steps ahead, being concerned about you?

You nodded- a sign for him to go on.

Medkit took a deep breath and, after a brief pause, continued.

“Subspace is on the opposing team. You of all people should be the most familiar as to what he is capable of, all of his malicious acts…yet you still hold back against him. You stop yourself. I see the doubt, the split second where you decide whether or not to attack him. I’ve also noticed that this applies to him and him alone, no matter who else we’re fighting against.

So I must ask…why do you hesitate?”

You tense up, not knowing how to respond. You can feel Medkit’s expectant gaze on you, silently coercing a satisfactory answer from you.

You knew that the only satisfactory answer would be the truth…but the truth would be too painful for Medkit to accept.

This was not how you wanted him to find out.

Regardless, you knew that with how much detail he paid to the most trivial of tasks, he’d find out sooner or later.

Better sooner than later, anyway.

You sighed, prepared to face whatever came next.

“Medkit…the truth is…Subspace is my brother.”

At your words, Medkit froze. Out of all the possible reasons and responses you could have gave him, this was not one of them. He had no idea…one of his best friends, the sibling of his sworn enemy? Impossible…

He gingerly sat his cup of black coffee onto the saucer, making a soft clink.

“You can’t be serious…? You knew what he did to me…and yet you never bothered to tell me that he was your brother?”

Things weren’t playing out in your favour here…

“I’m sorry, Medkit. I never wanted you to find out this way…but it’s the truth.”

Medkit stared at you, his usually stoic face now containing a plethora of emotion…all conveying a single emotion- horror. He felt absolute revulsion. How could his friend, who had been with him through thick and thin, be related to the very person who ripped out his eye? But then again, deep down…he didn’t want to change his perception of you. You were who you were, not Subspace. You weren’t Subspace. You never treated him harshly, like nothing more than a lab assistant…you treated him like a genuine friend. You showed care towards him, care which he never experienced in Blackrock…

Medkit glanced down at his half-finished cup of coffee. His reflection stared back at him, his only remaining eye speaking thousands of words. The eyes were the windows to the soul, he knew, and his one remaining eye conveyed not only consternation and hatred…but also sadness and betrayal. Why didn’t you tell him sooner? Did you worry about his reaction?

Did you not trust him enough?

You waved a hand in front of Medkit, trying to get his attention.

“Medkit…? You alright…?”

Medkit quietly rested his head on the edge of the table, sighing quietly.

“I’m fine. It’s just…an old and unresolved conflict.”

You knew what he was talking about- the incident with Subspace. Your best friend’s mortal enemy was your brother. But a friend’s a friend, and no matter how much people say that family comes first, you’d always prioritise Medkit’s safety- he was your best friend and stuck with you every step of the way.

“…it’s fine, I’ll make sure Subspace doesn’t hurt you, alright, Meds?”

Medkit knew Subspace having an easier shot at hurting him was only a small portion of the issue- he’d been through that for too long anyway, and he was used to it. The real issue was the shock that came with finding out his best friend was related to his sworn enemy.

Nevertheless, he knew he could count on you.

“…alright, (Y/n). I trust you.”

-

and first req done! thanks again for requesting! sry for the delay btw, I had sch work to do ;-;

#subspace phighting #subspace tripmine #phighting x reader #phighting! #medkit phighting #medkit x reader

[potofstewie]

Cowboy

The Lowdown: Yer cowboy has been working hard at his Rodeo Competitions so It's only fair to reward him for a job well done.

The things to know: AFAB! Reader, oral (m. recieving), cowboy, creampie, praise praise and more praise, swears, petnames, breeding kink, reiner being the beefy cowboy he is, dom! Reiner, encouragement (take a shot every time you read the word "yer")

Pairing: Cowboy!Reiner x Black f!Reader

W/C: 2.4K

A/N: I had a cowboy Reiner fic that was originally supposed to be a surprise for @chrollohearttags cause to me she's the head honcho for all things Country!Reiner and I wanted to dedicate a lil sumn sumn for her enjoyment but the brainrot got too strong and I told her lmao. I tried to write this as country as I could so hope y'all enjoy!

THIS JUMPS STRAIGHT INTO THE SMUT SO EVERYTHING IS UNDER THE CUT AS A PRECAUTION

“There you go, Darlin’. Nice and easy..that’s it.” With a soft gag, your mouth finally reached the base of Reiner’s dick, nose brushing against his dark fuzz. A deep groan resounded in his chest as you moved your head, taking him all to the best of your abilities. His large, work worn hands grabbed the back of your head and moved you faster, soft gags leaving your pretty and fucked out throat. “That’s my baby..” Another groan left Reiner’s lips as your acrylic nails lightly grazed his thighs, the light touch sending shockwaves into his body and causing him to slightly lean back on the bed. 

He loved it when his sweet girl rewarded him for a job well done after every rodeo. Every time he would compete he’d always wear that black cowboy hat you loved so much and would always snatch a gloss covered goodluck kiss from you right before getting out there. That’s how y’all met in the first place; at one of his rodeo competitions when he was about to take his turn in steer wrestling but started late once he saw you looking at him with those hypnotic eyes. He could’ve lost because of you but no matter how many times he thought back on it, he would lose a million rounds if it meant he could even stand next to you, two million for you to say hi to him. 

For you, something about seeing such a burly man kick up the dirt as he held onto the horns of a running bull for dear life and seeing him turn it on its back did something to you. Especially when he’d get up, covered in dirt and send a lil wink your way, a giant grin decorating his sweaty face. To the other ladies in the roaring crowd, they all swooned and screamed to high heaven anytime he was eyeing the crowd, hoping and praying that he’d cast a smile or loving gaze their way. But little did they know, all that sweet smilin’ , winkin’ and even cheesy blown kisses were all aimed on you. 

You loved all the aspects of this cowboy, but seeing him in action added a lil something extra to your love. The way he lifted hay bales with ease, how he always looked good even when dirt or mud covered him. How the veins and muscles of his arms flexed and bulged anytime he lassoed a loose bull, concentration and furrowed brows on his face. All that and more had a hold on you something fierce. But those things hit you even harder whenever you two got intimate after a successful Rodeo. It was a ritual at this point and you both loved it.

“Look at me, sugar.” Obeying the command that was drenched in his honey coated Texan Drawl, you gazed up at your cowboy through tear heavy lashes; muscled and hairy chest heaving with every groan and grunt that he gave out, nonverbal praises that made your pussy flutter. A sly smile was present on his reddened face, his black cowboy hat sitting neatly on his head. “There’s those pretty eyes I love so much. You look so perfect right now, baby, I love it.” With a soft push to your head, your mouth met with his pelvis bone once more, his hands keeping you there for a few seconds before easing up on you. “Good girl, doing so well fer me. You always know how to treat me right fer a job well done..” A soft hum in agreement left your throat as you felt your pussy throb at his saccharine words. 

With a soft pop, your sweet cowboy released himself from your warm and inviting mouth; libidinous hazel eyes watching the sticky mix of spit and precum slowly travel down your chin. You released a satisfied hum as you wiped your lips with your thumb before licking it, big doe eyes not once leaving Reiner’s face. Your cowboy ran a rugged hand down his face, absolutely enchanted by your gaze and the lewd act you did. No words were necessary on what he wanted to do next, a flash of determination on his flushed face was all you needed to see to rise up from your kneeled position. 

Straddling him, Reiner’s pink lips crashed into your two-toned ones with fervor as his rough hands kneaded your plump ass and positioned you right where he wanted you. A sweet moan escaped your lips as you felt his leaking tip slowly enter you, your warm cunt inviting him eagerly despite the tight squeeze. “Fuck Rei…s’too big for me..” You whined softly while his hands squeezed your waist, pulling you down gently. No matter how many times y’all fucked, you could never get used to his size; his thick and veiny dick always made it feel like your first time. 

“You can do it baby, I know you can.” Taking his hat off and placing it on your head, another grunt left his mouth as he tried to keep himself under control, your tight grip on his cock practically urging him to thrust wildly upwards. Even though his lifestyle as a cowboy called for him to be aggressive and strong majority of the time, Reiner can’t help but be absolutely gentle with you as if he was handling delicate flowers. In the world of rodeos and farming, you were the only source of gentleness that he craved.  “Always doin’ right by yer cowboy..” And with his last word Reiner released a low moan as you finally took him in all in, cock twitching at the enveloping warmth and the soft whine that escaped your plump lips. 

Scooting back on the bed and laying down, the cowboy’s burly arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you in closer, lips instantly attaching to yours as he slowly thrusted upwards. Soft moans that left you were timed with each deep thrust, your pussy gradually getting used to his size. “Always cheerin’ me on at my Rodeos..wearing that cute pink hat I got fer you, fuck...you know how to treat a man, right mamas?” His deep and sultry words felt as though they were seeping through your skin and traveling down to your pussy, a tightening grip on his cock being a nonverbal answer to his words.

“Mmmnh, Reiii I- Ah!” Your whine was sharply interrupted as you felt Reiner’s hips snap up with force, his tip kissing your cervix. With a tighter hold on your waist, he pistoned his cock into your dripping pussy, your cream coating his length in a matter of seconds. Your once soft mewls escalated into loud gasps and moans as the noisy claps of your ass meeting his skin filled the air. Holding onto his chest for dear life, you couldn’t help but let your mind turn into mush with every powerful thrust your cowboy rewarded you with. The squelching of your stretched out pussy did nothing but encourage your cowboy further, his hazel eyes not once leaving your face and drinking in your fucked out expression; an agape mouth and furrowed brows decorating your beautiful face. 

“Shit mama, yer makin’ a mess on my dick..You feel good ridin’ yer cowboy?” Reiner’s tantalizing voice that you loved so much called out to you and you tried your damnedest to answer but your voice was pushed out of you with every bruising kiss his cock gave to your cervix. A sharp slap was gifted to your ricocheting ass evoking a yelp from you before you felt a calloused hand rub the now sensitive spot. “Answer me baby..tell papa how yer feelin’..” A deep moan left your burly cowboy as he squished your heated cheeks to focus your lustful gaze on him, his free arm holding you with an iron grip keeping you in place. 

“Feelsh sh’good papa..got me creamin’ for you..” You let out with a sugary sweet whine that melted your sturdy man to the core. Pleased with your slurred answer, he let go of your face and slapped your ass once more sending a shock through your body. 

“Damn baby, yer pussy feels so good taking me in like this..o-oh shit..” The cowboy let out a choked moan escape him as he reveled in how good his dick felt being squeezed by the tight confines of your gaping cunt. You didn’t know how much more you could take, your tear-blurred vision gaining black spots as you felt your orgasm approaching steadfast. With Reiner’s hands snaking their way down to your ass to spread your cheeks apart, you found your opening and sat up slightly; acrylic nails digging into his chest as you held on for dear life. Keeping his fast and aggressive tempo, Reiner could tell from your screwed shut eyes that you were close. 

“C’mon sugar, don’t close ‘em..I wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum all over this dick..” His smooth like whiskey voice had a vice grip on you as you opened your eyes as best as you could, your lids only peeling back halfway causing you to bask in all that man’s glory; hair sticking to his forehead and that ever so sly smirk plastered on his face. “There you are, pretty..” With a choked gasp, you felt him reward you with another sharp thrust; your fucked out mind thinking of nothing but your ravenous need to feel him fill you up to the brim with his hot and sticky cum. 

“O-oh fuck, Daddy..’M gonna- ahh..you’re gonna make me c-cum!” Your declaration ended in a halted moan as your big cowboy watched with pride as your brown eyes rolled back into your head. You could feel your intense orgasm shoot out like a bronco leaving its pen. Your manicured nails dug deeper into his haired chest as the invigorating feeling washed over you tenfold. “Fuck! Reii!”  You panted heavily through your lips. Fucking you through your orgasm, Reiner soaked up the loud whines your throat released. He welcomed the spasms both your body and sweet pussy gave to him, pushing him closer to the sweet edge. 

“That’s it darlin’ just keep cumming on that dick..” Words of encouragement engulfed your heated ears as Reiner’s thrusts became harder and sloppier, his own release building up for departure. “Yer gonna make daddy cum all in yer pussy..you want that mama? You wanna get filled up? Wanna carry my f-fuucking kids?” Still reeling from your orgasm you lolled your head in quick nods, his words sending shocks of excitement to your abused pussy. “Gonna look so fuckin’ good with them tits filled with milk..gonna make you look so good, s-shit y/n..”

As if a coil snapped within him, your cowboy’s hips finally stilled as the thick white ropes of his cum painted every bit of your walls; a loud, guttural groan rumbling from his muscled chest as he sloppily thrusted a few more times, trying his hardest to milk every last drop from his heavy balls while also trying to keep every single drop from leaking out. After one last deep thrust, Reiner panted heavily, hazel eyes unfocusing on the ceiling. 

Giving out a slow, sensual groan you leaned down and peppered your cowboy’s neck in hot, syrupy kisses; nipping on his bobbing Adam’s Apple as he heaved for air. “Fuck baby..” His words vibrated your lips as you gave him a small hum, his rough hands traveling up and down your smooth brown back. Chuckling, he fixed his lopsided hat on your head, a small smile gracing your lips at the sweet and tender action. 

“You look so sexy with my hat on. I should make you wear it more often.” He mused softly as you rubbed his chest, delicate fingers running over the crescent marks you left. You lifted your tender ass, feeling a sliver of cum leak out from you. Your cowboy sighed a soft moan at your readjusting, hands resting on your ass as you sat back down with the length of his cock nestled in your folds.

“Mm, you think so muffin?” You said slowly, mimicking his Drawl and moving your hips back and forth with one hand on his hat as if you were bull riding. A low whine came out of Reiner’s mouth as he furrowed his eyebrows, his cream covered dick hungry for another round. 

“Shit..yeah baby..” He confirmed with a low grunt as your sensitive clit glided over his dick. A sweet moan escaped you as you felt your bundle of nerves shock you with more waves of bliss as you kept riding your cowboy. Nothing but soft moans and lewd squelching filled the room as you continued to rub his cock; his swollen tip sometimes poking inside you again causing pleasure filled groans to leave your throat. “Don’t stop..shit..keep ridin’ daddy like a good cowgirl..” One of his rough hands caged your hand that was still on his chest, the other hand firmly grabbing your waist. 

With you both feeling near painful sensitivity, your orgasms creeped up faster this time, matching your picked up pace. Reiner cupped both of your breasts as he felt his cock twitch with the oncoming release. “Fuuck y/n..I’m so close baby, keep going..shit..” You released a saccharine moan as you soaked in his dirty words, your clit throbbing in response. 

“Mm, me t-too Rei..you’re gonna make me c-cum again..” You whined as his thumbs rolled and pinched your hardened nipples, your mind once more turning into lust drenched mush. With another roll of your hips, your shared orgasms finally arrived with forceful moans; his nut decorating your folds and his pelvis as you contracted on his messy, cream covered dick. 

“Right there darlin’, your pussy feels so good doing that on me..” He said softly as you rode out your high, fatigue starting to settle in your bones. “C’mere mama, you done mighty fine by me..” Being lassoed by his honey covered drawl, you leaned down and sloppily kissed him, lips grazing over the stubble on his face. Putting his hat to the side, his hands traveled from the small curls on your neck down to the small of your back, fingers lightly grazing your skin the entire time. With a soft, wet smack your lips separated with a string of saliva between them. 

“Y’know I love it when you do well by me, right ma?” He said softly as you rested your head on his chest, listening to his thundering heartbeat. You giggled softly and nodded as you felt your cowboy’s big arms wrap around you, giving your torso a light squeeze with his words. “Relax for a moment cause in a bit your cowboy wants to go again, ya heard?” 

“I heard you loud an’ clear, Cowboy.”

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ʙɪɴᴅ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴛᴏꜰꜱᴛᴇᴡɪᴇ™ 2023

Tags:@chrollohearttags @vixxennxx @onlybambibambi @sevikasblackgf @g0blin3ater @kechiwrites @peicksgf @prettygirllisa @chunkygirl07 @photosbyameil @1thrasherkookie1 @aiyaaayei @valentine-115 @madamekaos @sukisweets @iluvlay0111 @glz-100 @yoitsseulgi @ulzzangledust @mimi321us @kozart101 @shinobus-wife @cherrypussprincess @radicaledward55

#reiner x black reader #reiner smut #reiner x black yn #cowboy reiner #black fem reader #black reader smut #aot reiner #aot smut #snk smut #reiner brainrot #chrollohearttags this here fer you #stew’s smut stew #aot x black reader #aot x reader #original stew

[doodlevich]

DTIYS: Mickey + Puppy 🐶

For dear Harvey’s challenge!❤️ @mikhailoisbaby

I got inspired by Mickey and the dog and wondered how Ian would fit in to the whole things… and then a wrote a little au meetcute fic about it for good measure :-)

🔽🔽🔽

“The fuck is wrong with that thing?”

Ian glances over his shoulder and in doing so almost trips over a tree root sticking out of the ground.

Standing in front of him is a gorgeous, dark haired man, sporting blue eyes that basically pierce Ian’s fucking soul. He’s wearing various shades of black and the look of disgust curling up his sharp features tells Ian that the guy wouldn’t like it much if he was referred to as ‘slightly petite’.

But he is, though. Just Ian’s type.

“What’s w-wrong with what?” Ian sputters, at a loss for words as he takes it all in. Then he remembers he happens to be holding a shivering chihuahua wrapped in a pink puffer doggie vest and pink booties to match.

Goddamnit Tami.

“Oh? The chihuahua?” Ian chuckles once the pieces all click. “She belongs to my sister-in-law. I’m dog-sitting while she and my brother visit her family.”

The dark haired stranger snorts. “If you can call that a dog.” He reaches down to pat his own animal on the head, and Ian realizes he was so caught up with the man than he didn’t even notice the pit-bull by his side. “Looks like it’s one wrong move away from being lunch-meat.”

Ian shrugs. It’s a fair point.

“Yeaaaah, Penelope it’s one for picking fights.” The Chihuahua wriggles in the crook of his arm and yips at the mention of her name.

The man snorts. “Penelope? Jesus Christ, man.”

“Fitting right?” Ian smiles at the pitbull’s blissed our expression as the mystery man scratches below the chin. “What’s his name then?” He nods towards the larger dog. “Monster-mutt? Grave-digger? Maximum Destruction?”

The man laughs, a low rumble, and it’s the best thing Ian’s ever heard with his own two ears.

“First off, stop listing names of fuckin’ monster trucks.” He snorts. “And second, her name is Lia.”

Ian laughs along. “And you’re over here busting Penelope’s balls for having a cutesy name?”

The man shrugs. “She already had a name when I adopted her from the rescue shelter. Not gonna confuse her by re-naming her.”

“She’s a rescue dog, huh?” Everything Ian learns makes him want to know more about this guy. “Mind if I ask her owner’s name?” Ian can’t tell if he’s being smooth or coming across as a dumbass, but the man seems amused regardless.

“Me? Name’s Mickey.” He extends his hand to shake, and before Ian takes it he notices the knuckle tats- yet another factor to drive him wild. “How about you? Got a name?”

“Ian.” Ian shakes his hand firmly, and it feels like more than a mere formality. He swears he’s not imagining it- there’s a spark when they touch, and Ian realizes he can’t waste an opportunity to change his life for the better.

“You up to anything after this?” Ian asks, projecting all the confidence he can muster. “I know a bar about a block from here that’s dog-friendly…”

Mickey’s eyebrows shoot up, and for a moment Ian wonders if he’s reading the signals wrong. Then a grin appears on Mickey’s face.

“You askin’ me on a date, Ian?”

Ian’s face heats up, but he’s giddy, something he hasn’t felt in years. “Maybe. If that’s what you wanna call it. Kinda just want to get to know you better, Mickey.”

“You’re in luck then, cuz I love a good mid-day beer.” Mickey sets off down the park path, motioning for Ian to follow him. “And a drinking buddy wouldn’t be so bad, either.”

It takes Ian a moment to realize that this is Mickey’s way of saying ‘yes’, but once he does, he’s jogging to catch up, Penelope bouncing in the crook of his arm.

Something tells Ian he’s just made the best decision of his life.

#dtiys #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #gallavich fanart #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #shameless fanart #digital art #gallavich fic

[bitchinbarzal]

Cowboys Rule | E.Edwards

summary; the number one rule of cowboys - wear the hat ride the cowboy

-

Mark had decided on a whole cowboys and country theme for his twenty first birthday so everyone went all out with the dress up.

You and Ethan had set up the venue from early morning; a local bar and you’d gone all out even getting a mechanical bull.

You’d just finished pinning up the last banner when you felt two hands on either side of your waist and pulled your body down from the ladder

“Okay, we’re done! We gotta get ready” Ethan announced, pulling you away from the decorations.

“I just have to-“ “No! You’ve done enough we’ll be late if we don’t go now”

You laughed and gave in “Okay, Okay let’s go I need to get in my get up!”

“Get up?” He chuckled, eying you.

“Oh yeah I have this cute black and white cow print hat and the matching boots, it’s glittery and everything!” You squealed in excitement.

Ethan smiled at you “I can’t wait to see, meet you back here at eight?”

“Got it!” You replied, running off towards your dorm.

You’d arrived at the party later than intended and it was already in full swing.

Managing to find Mark and Duke when you arrived you passed off your birthday gift “Happy Birthday Woodruff!!”

Rolling his eyes Mark pulled you in for a hug “Thank you, thank you for setting up and everything! You’re the best”

It was hard to hear over the music so you were leaning up to shout in his ear “Where’s Eddy?!”

Mark looked around before pointing over in the corner you could see Ethan helping some girl up onto the mechanical bull, his hands resting on her ass even when she was situated.

You rolled your eyes and you could feel Mark giving you a sad glance while he rubbed your back before he was pulled away.

“Hey there’s our cowgirl!” Arm thrown over your shoulder and you leaned into Mackie while Luke appeared on your other side.

“Hey guys, enjoying the party?”

“It’s awesome, you want to plan ours?” “You wish - I like Mark that’s why I spent so much time on it”

Luke pulled a face “Harsh but we love you so we’ll forgive” before lifting your hat off your head and walking off.

Mackie held is hand out for you and quirked his eyebrow “Join me?”

You looking from his face to his hand you smiled softly nodding your head and putting your hand in his.

Ethan had watched you waltz around the bar alongside his teammate with jealous eyes.

There was a grey zone you two were in right now with mutual feelings but all the stupidity not to say anything just living in the constant agony of jealousy. It wasn’t fun to see all these girls throw themselves at him just because he was a hockey player while you just had to sit and watch.

When it was announced the cake was coming out you stood up on a table along with a couple other girls to see over everything while you sang.

“Happy Birthday, dear mark, Happy Birthday to you”

As the song finished you screamed out a cheer before you tried stepping down from the table. You were about to jump when Mackie held your waist and lifted you down letting out a laugh, hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself.

Ethan watched on across the room as his teammate had you in his hold, ignoring everything people were saying around him.

You pulled the cowboy hat that sat on Mackie’s head and placed it on your own continuing to laugh while you were placed on the floor.

Ethan saw red.

He stormed across the room to you, stepping between the two of you and grabbing the hat from your head then shoving it into Mackie’s chest.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you away.

“Ethan stop! Ethan what is your problem!?”

After you got into a clear space Ethan turned to you finally you could see his chest heaving “That is my problem!”

“What?” “The hat!”

You wanted to laugh “The hat? You’re in a mood because I wore Mackie’s cowboy hat?”

Ethan felt embarrassed to say this “Yeah, I mean it’s more isn’t it? The cowboys rule wear the hat and you’ve got to ride the cowboy”

Your eyes went wide while he continued

“I mean is that what you want?! You want Mackie?!”

You stuttered, completely taken aback by his outburst. He scoffed “Okay I see how it is” and turned to the door having embarrassed himself enough.

You stood frozen for a minute before you chased him, grabbing the hat from the top of his and placing it on yours.

He turned and looked at you smiling back at him “What are you doing y/n?”

“Never heard of the cowboys rule? I’m wearing your hat… your move Edwards” You smirked.

There was almost a look of relief on his face as he pulled you into him with a smile, knocking the hat up while he kissed you.

Pulling away you stared at each other for a moment before you said “rules are rules cowboy, can’t break them”

He smirked “No we cannot” pulling you out the bar with a few hollers following as you rushed back to someone’s dorm.

#umich imagine #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards imagine

[tyrantisterror]

A Hundred Some New ATOM Kaiju Pt. 5

On this installment of the unfinished ATOM kaiju showcase, we're finally showing off some that aren't retrosaurs. This batch will focus on big bugs, ANOTHER big category of ATOM kaiju (the third big category is aliens, and the fourth big category is "whatever else I felt like making").

Our first four are designed to make a sort of sentai team with Nastadyne. There's a red stag beetle (to Nastadyne's blue rhinoceros beetle - which also makes them a red two-horned oni and a blue one-horned oni, as a sort of two-fer deal on Japanese pop culture rival creatures), a pink ladybug, a green grasshopper, and a black and yellow cicada. The stag beetle would have a color scheme that takes cues from Kuwagamon, Tentomon, and the various Kabuterimons, to play on how Nastadyne's color scheme is based on Heracross and Pinsir. The grasshopper would take after some of the Kamen Rider suits, and the cicada has elements of Baltan and Zetton.

The arch enemies of the five heroic bugs are a pair of spiders, who take after malevolent spider yokai. Horusupaida is loosely based on a jorogumo, i.e. the giant spider that disguises itself as a woman, and Oksupaida is based on Ushi-oni, the bull-headed, sickle-footed spider yokai. Horusupaida and Oksupaida would firmly be on the comical end of antagonistic ATOM kaiju, being threats but not particularly evil or cruel.

The five bug heroes would also have a more serious nemesis in the form of a giant centipede, and dear god I would have struggled to ink this design even BEFORE I developed carpal tunnel syndrome.

Our final kaiju for this batch is Bumblor, who was inspired by me seeing a big bumblebee in my backyard and thinking how their huge bodies and clumsy flying styles are 1. very endearing and 2. would translate so well into a kaiju. Just a lot of personality built into those insects.

#Atomic Time of Monsters