#so maybe this one is pushing it a little lol but i stand firm in the fact that han wouldve&shouldve been a slut.

[ellecdc]

Could you continue on the moon water x pregnant reader, where she’s further along? And how the boys react, like who’s more protective Remus or regulus? Who’s doing all the cooking? Just a cut little domestic fic

Also I love all of your work!!

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING I TOTALLY DIDN'T HAVE THIS DRAFTED UP IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE LAST ONE....THAT WOULD BE EMBARRASSING LOL thanks though I love this little dynamic so friggen much

poly!moonwater x pregnant!reader who's in her first trimester

You learned a lot about yourself and both of your boyfriends throughout the first trimester of your pregnancy.

Though you had always known that both Remus and Regulus were prone to worrying, you learned that they both had very different methods of worrying over you.

Regulus was what you called a fusser. He was constantly fussing over you. Adding extra servings to your plate unprompted. Running out the night he found out you were pregnant to buy prenatal vitamins and potions (muggle and magical), which he served to you each morning himself so that he knew that you were taking them. No one was allowed to use the loo attached to your bedroom, as that toilet was deemed the vomit toilet, which he disinfected twice a day in case you needed to ‘rest your poor beautiful face on it’ as was often the case. He insisted you stay bundled, almost forcing extra layers on you before you stepped outside. And he insisted you begin pelvic floor exercises immediately.

Remus was what you called a coddler. He was always hovering over you at the off chance you might need something at that exact moment. “Are you comfortable, dovey?” “Do you need anything?” “Are you thirsty?” “Did Regulus upset you?” “Do you want me to rub your feet?” “Do you want me to call you in at work?” “Why don’t we go take a nap, hm?” “Have you drank enough water today?” and so on and so forth.

What you learned about yourself during the first trimester of your pregnancy?

You hated being fussed over. 

“Regulus Black, I am full.” You pressed, shooting your boyfriend a stern glare where he stood beside you, serving spoon hovering in the air from his attempt at putting more on your plate.

“Amour, I don’t think you’ve had enough to eat today. You’re eat-”

“For two, she knows. Bubs, she full named you, I’d cut your losses if I were you.” Remus stage whispered to Regulus, shooting you a sympathetic albeit concerned glance.

Regulus looked distressed as he awkwardly hovered at your side, seemingly trying to decide between surrendering or pushing his point. 

“Maybe just-”

“Full!” You shrilled, standing from the table and storming off towards the entrance. You pulled on a pair of shoes and your jacket before grabbing your car keys and heading for the door when you noticed movement in your periphery.

“Regulus I swear to gods, if you come over here with another jacket I will set you on fire.”

Without missing a beat he turned on his heel and disappeared back from whence he came - one of your jackets still firm in his grasp.

Regulus, Remus, and James all gawked at you when you told them you wanted to buy a car. You were a witch, you could get anywhere in seconds with a flick of your wand, a portkey, or a handful of floo powder.

Lily understood the contentment that came with going for a drive once in a while, but your biggest supporter had been Sirius. He loved almost nothing more in this world than the way he loved his motorcycle.

He had insisted on accompanying you car shopping, and whilst he teased you to no end for not choosing the flashiest car available to waste Regulus’ inheritance on, you were happy with your purchase. 

You were also beginning to wonder if portkey and apparition was a safe way to travel now-a-days, what with your pregnancy and all.

You’d driven for maybe all of twenty minutes before you were parked back outside of your flat, staring at the navy painted door.

You felt ridiculous for getting upset. It’s not even like this behaviour of theirs was new, though it was perhaps heightened on account of your growing family. 

You hated drawing attention to it - not one to minimise your own feelings - but you also supposed you were feeling… extra sensitive lately on account of the…hormones. 

You suddenly felt teary; Regulus was being so thoughtful; you haven’t once had to think or worry about, well, almost anything. He ensured you had everything you needed, and you never even had to ask for it.

And Remus was always close by to ensure you never wanted for anything, willing to drop whatever he was doing on a sickle to serve you.

Fuck, they were saints, you were awful.

Feeling thoroughly ashamed of yourself, you got out of your car and made your way to the flat, shucking off your jacket and shoes before moving down the hall to the living room.

Regulus snapped his head in your direction immediately, whilst Remus smirked to himself and calmly placed a scrap of paper in his book to mark his spot. 

“Amour, I-”

“I’m so sorry, Reggie.” You whimpered, causing Regulus to deflate and his face to fall in misery. 

“No, darling, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He insisted as he moved to envelop you in his arms. 

“I was awful.” You muttered into his chest causing him to chuckle. 

“You were not awful; you were really quite reasonable.”

“I was mean.”

“Amour,” he pressed more seriously, pulling away from you and forcing you to make eye contact with him. “When I broke my heel and was stuck in that cast for weeks, what did I say to Rem when he was fussing over me?”

You chuckled slightly as you looked over to Remus, noticing him roll his eyes fondly at the memory. 

“You told him to go fuck a cactus.” 

Regulus looked at you with an expression of pride. “I told him to go fuck a cactus.” He agreed dreamily. 

“Dove, even if it doesn’t always feel like it, you’re working awfully hard right now. You’re going to be tired, perhaps a little irritable, and it is more than fair for you to tell us to back off, yeah?” 

You pushed your face back into regulus’ chest as you felt your sinuses fill painfully. 

“Yeah.” You whimpered back pathetically. 

Remus made an equally pathetic cooing sound and moved to stand behind Regulus, wrapping his arms around the both of you. 

“Probably doesn’t help to have two of the most overbearing partners, hm?” He asked as he rubbed circles into your back. 

“You’re not overbearing.” You argued. 

“No?” Regulus asked, pressing a kiss into your hair. “What are we?”

“Lovely.” 

“Dove? Are you crying?” 

“……no”

“Why are you crying, amour?”

“Because I’m pregnant and you’re lovely.” You whined. 

They both chuckled at you and the three of you stood in each other's embrace. 

As was usually the case, Regulus was the first to break the silence. 

“I really would feel better if you ate a little bit more tonight, amour. Can I get you anything, anything at all?”

You suppressed a groan and thought really, really hard about it. You supposed you were a little peckish, and if you didn’t eat now - you’d surely be hungry by the time you got into bed. 

“Can we have fast food?” 

Regulus let out a sigh of relief and Remus barked a laugh. 

“You know, I was sort of hoping you’d suggest that, Dovey. I’ve been dying for some curly fries.” 

With nothing more said, Regulus went and grabbed two jackets for you, tossing you the car keys and asking if you were in the mood for a drive to look at the city lights. 

You sat parked in a turn-off facing a bridge and overlooking the Thames, watching the lights of cars, planes, and boats dancing along the water in your view. 

Though both boys had been nothing but supportive of you and your pregnancy, you knew that they both had some worries and fears that only their brother and best friend could pacify. 

“We should probably tell the others soon.” You admitted finally.

If you didn’t know better, you’d have assumed the silence in the car meant that you actually hadn’t said anything out loud at all.

You did know better, though, and it was the way Regulus’ spoon paused halfway between his ice cream and his mouth that assured you he had, indeed, heard you. 

“Really?” Remus asked first, breaking the silence and rebooting Regulus’ hard drive as he finally brought the spoon to his mouth.

“Yeah, I think it would be helpful, for all of us really. I mean, James and Lily have done this before, and Sirius would be very enthused.” You explained.

The three of you had decided to play it safe and wait until the end of the first trimester to start telling anyone, with this being your first pregnancy and all.

You knew, though, that if you weren’t already starting to show (the boys insisted you weren’t, but you think they were just trying to appease you), you would be very soon. 

Regulus finally hummed and plopped his spoon into his now empty ice cream cup.

“Or,” He started, keeping his eyes trained on the scenery in front of him. “We could pack up, change our names and move to Switzerland.”

His suggestion was met with silence (and unimpressed looks from both his partners that he didn’t bother to look at himself), causing him to groan and sink further into his seat.

“Fine. But you have to deal with Sirius’ insufferable excitement.” He pouted, though he couldn’t hide the soft blush adorning his cheeks and the little smile gracing his lips. 

“Your options are Sirius or James, bubs.” Remus chuckled.

“I still don’t see why Switzerland’s not on the table.” Regulus countered, earning him a pinch in his ribs from Remus.

You picked the right ones, you thought; you had the best family to bring your little one into.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin #regulus black #remus lupin x regulus black #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #moonwater #poly!moonwater #poly!moonwater x reader #poly!moonwater x you #moonseeker #poly!moonseeker #poly!moonseeker x reader #poly!moonseeker x you #pregnant!reader #pregnancy trope #kid fic #ellecdc fics

[ughgoaway]

naughty vs nice // day 5

content warnings; smut (or at least attempted smut), blow jobs, kinda public?, sub-ish matty, swearing, misogyny and drinking.

a/n; now... I am not good at smut writing but I felt it was my duty to at least attempt some for y'all. if this is completely tragic, I apologise in advance lol <3

word count; 2.9k

(this fic takes place after they've gotten together)

12 days masterlist

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“So please, go and mingle parents and teachers! Your little ones are all having their own party in the gym, so enjoy your night off!” The headteacher raised his glass of wine as he finished his welcome, each person doing the same and then giving him a small round of applause. 

You were currently talking to Mrs Jones and pretending to listen to her whine about her new teacher assistant and how useless they are. But your eyes continue to drift over her shoulder to meet Matty’s. 

He stands across the room from you chatting to Adam and another teacher, but he can't keep focused on anything when you are dressed like that less than 20 feet away from him. 

Your asymmetric dress draped over one shoulder and left the other bare. The body con hugged your figure in a way that had Matty's heart hammering at his ribs whenever he looked at you. The small slit teased him further. Every time your leg shifted and more of your thigh poked out, he had to make a conscious effort to not get hard.

Matty's eyes were drawn to the glowing skin of your exposed collarbone. Thinking of not even 30 minutes earlier when he stood between your legs mouthing at that exact spot as you whimpered under him. 

/////

“You can't leave a mark baby,” you pant out but make no effort to stop his motions, “everyone will know exactly what I've been doing” You giggle as he nips lightly at your collarbone.

Your legs were spread as you sat on your desk and Matty moved his mouth over you. 

“I don't care, I want them to know. Want them to know you’re my girl” he says, coming out from your neck with puffy kiss-bitten lips and messy curls from your wandering hands.

You sigh sadly and start to adjust his tie and stroke a hand over his hair to fix it, “I know, but we can't tell anyone. Not while im still so new here, im pretty sure if Mrs Richards knew I was fucking the hot rockstar Dad she’d fire me on the spot.”

Matty smirks and ignores most of your statement, opting to focus on one small part, “hot rockstar dad, huh? Is that what you teachers call me when you’re gossiping about me?”

Your cheeks go red, and you shake your head unconvincingly, matty hums and says “Sure sweetheart.”

You push him away playfully and stand, brushing your hands over your dress and straightening it out, not wanting to join the party looking like a teenager who has been caught fooling around.

“Okay you have to stay away from me tonight, or I'm just gonna jump you. you look too good in that suit” You smooth your hands over his lapels, and Matty smiles coyly at your words. 

“Mmm maybe I want that, though,” he teases as he smoothly slides his hands around your waist. A firm look from you has Matty backtracking, quickly saying, “Okay okay, I promise. I won't come near you tonight. Scouts honour” Matty faux salutes you, and you can't help but giggle at your boyfriend's ridiculousness.

That promise lasted all of 30 minutes, but soon you were roped into a conversation with Matty and two other dads, both of whom you hated. 

Mike Wilson and Martin Addams were two eye-roll-inducing men. You avoided them at all costs, but as you walked past them, Martin waved you over. 

“y/n perfect, we need a good woman's opinion here,” he says, smirking at you, shamelessly running his eyes over your body. You see Matty tense out of the corner of your eye, but he sighs and shakes it off.

“Ah hello everyone,” you say with faux politeness, giving Matty a subtle nod that he returns and fights the smile threatening his cheeks.

“You're a traditional woman, aren't you y/n?” Martin asks, not giving you time to answer before carrying on, “You have a job, but you get that women aren't meant to work. If you had kids or whatever, you'd be at home in the kitchen like a proper lady, wouldn't you?” his question had you frozen on the spot.

What kind of fucking question is that? What would possess him to ask you that?

Before you get a chance to try and give a fake, polite response, Mike jumps in, “Yeah! You get that a woman's purpose is to have kids and look after the house. You're all just babymakers, really, aren't you?” he says, laughing and nodding at you as if you'd agree with anything coming out of his mouth.

You fight to give an appropriate response. You really do. But Matty can see your shoulder tense as you begin to speak, and he knows exactly what's coming. 

“Excuse me if im being dense here,” you begin, “but have you seriously asked me, a woman with a full-time job and who is totally independent, if I believe women are meant to be ‘baby makers’?” you give a sarcastic air quote as you copy mikes words. 

You give them an incredulous look, and before they can stutter an apology, you cut them off, just as they had done to you. 

“Well forgive my language but since there are no kids around I can say pretty confidenly that you two are fucking insane. What possessed you to say that I'll never know, but I do know that both of your daughters are doomed if you say like things like that around them. How dare you speak about women that way? You should both be ashamed.” You shake your head in disappointment at the men in front of you, your teacher voice coming out as you scold them. 

Both men scoff and walk away wordlessly, leaving you and Matty standing there. You give him a disbelieving smile, and he simply nods in agreement. 

“God those two are dickheads. Good thing I couldn't care less about them,” you pause and suck in a breath before giving Matty an apologetic look, “Sorry my teacher voice came out at the end there, it felt like I was scolding two kids.” you roll your eyes as you finish. 

Matty shakes his head and looks at you shyly. He wordlessly motions you closer, and you lean in ever so slightly to hear his whisper. 

“Don't worry about it, babe, it was kind of hot actually,” he says shyly, avoiding eye contact with you as he says it. You give him a shocked look and watch the red spread on his cheeks.

A thrill of power skitters through your bones at his comment, liking seeing Matty slightly bashful. 

“Oh is that right?” Your breathy words are heavy with lust, and Matty looks at you speechless before nodding dumbly. 

You see his hand slide from his side to the front of his trousers and adjust his crotch slightly.

Oh, how very interesting.

You didn't think he'd be into that, or that you would. But you can't deny that the horny look in his eyes had you turned on. 

Teasingly, you raise your eyebrows at Matty. He bites his lip unconsciously as he stares at yours, and any resolve you had snaps. 

“Come with me” you demand, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the hall. His head shoots around to see if anyone is looking, but the only person's eyes he meets are Adam's.

He simply gives him a disbelieving chuckle and a shake of his head, knowing about the secret relationship the two of you had begun.

Matty smiles back and turns around to follow you like an eager puppy. You drag him down the empty corridors and stop in front of random doors to see if they're unlocked. Every time you jiggle a handle that doesn't move, you grumble angrily and keep dragging Matty along.

Eventually, the store cupboard door swings open, and you grin victoriously, shoving Matty in with two hands on his chest. With a thump, he smacks against the wall. The impact combined with the look of hunger in your eyes has him breathless. 

With a swing in your hips, you shut the door and stroll towards him. Once you're centimetres away from his face, Matty leans in, desperate to kiss you. 

“Ah ah ah,” you say as you pull away much to Matty's disappointment, but any sadness soon leaves his brain as you sink to your knees in front of him.

You smirk as his eyes shoot open wide, his mouth drops open as a shocked gasp crackles our from his throat.

“Oh fuck” he says disbelievingly as your hands start to smooth over his stomach and push up his shirt. 

“You like it when im bossy, huh?” You teasingly whisper and lean forward, kissing Matty's exposed stomach and tracing the spattering of hair trailing down with your tongue. 

He nods dumbly and watches you. You work your mouth over him diligently, nipping and kissing his abdomen. 

“Pleasepleaseplease just touch me!” Matty whimpers out from above you, bucking his hips forward desperately. His pathetic whimpers cause electricity to spark down your spine.

He grows increasingly impatient as you playfully kiss every inch of him. You can see him growing more and more needy for your mouth, and you love it.

Soon, it becomes too much, and he can't stay quiet.

The control you had was making you dizzy. With a firm hand, you press his hips back to the wall forcibly, pulling a weak protest from Matty's lips.

Matty couldn't care less how meagre he sounded at that moment. He needed your mouth on him now.  

before long, he isthanking whatever god there is above because your fingers begin to unbutton his trousers and pull them down his legs.

Your hands move up from his thighs to toy with the corkscrew curls you see sitting at the top of his boxers. A small damp patch sits on the front of his underwear, the dark grey making you salivate with want. 

Messily you lean forward and begin to mouth along the outline of his hard cock. The wet patch grows as more pre-cum dribbles from his head, mixing with your saliva the more you lick over him.

Pitiful noises come from deep within Matty's chest as his hand comes to rest on the back of your head subconsciously. You wrench your mouth away from him, and he whines desperately. 

“Ah no touching baby, did I say you could hold my head? Keep your hands to yourself,” you say forcefully, earning a loose nod from Matty, his head no longer feeling attached to his neck.

“M’ sorry it just feels so good i- ohmygod” you interrupt Matty by palming over his boxers harshly, giving his cock a firm squeeze that made him buckle at the waist. Almost falling forward at the sensation. 

Tantalisingly slow you pull his waistband down over his leaking cock, he groans at the pressure on his head. 

He was not sure he's ever been this hard. He could feel his heartbeat in his dick every time a bead of precum leaks down his shaft. The feeling of you releasing his swollen cock made his whole body fill with a visceral need for you.

You lean forward and kitten lick the tip, and Matty gasps so hard he breaks out in a fit of coughs, not prepared for any contact from your hot tongue. 

“Have you thought about this a lot, baby, huh? Me down on my knees for you? Choking on your dick? I bet you dreamt of filling my mouth with your cum” you say as you press a kiss on his rose tattoo, moving to recreate the same action to his other hip bone. Your hot breath teases Matty as you skip over where he needs you most.

His cock jumped at your words and his curls bounced in time with his needy nods, “Yes yes yes. I thought about it all the time. I dreamt of this. Just- please put your mouth on me” he whines out, trying not to buck his hips into your mouth. 

He didn't think he'd get off to being dominated, but the power in your eyes only made him more desperate for you.

“Well since you asked so nicely, my love,” you say with a sickly sweet smile before sinking your mouth on Matty quickly, taking as much as you can down your throat in one go.

The noise Matty made was animalistic, he felt completely out of control of his body. and he fucking loved it.

“SHIT. You're so fucking good at that. god-” Matty stares at your mouth, stretching out over him, admiring your red lipstick smudging on his dick. The ring of red moves further, and further down the more of him you fit in your throat. 

You moan in appreciation, which causes Matty's hips to stutter. A warning look from you has him furiously muttering out apologies.

“Im so sorry baby it just feels too good. Oh fuck- ill be good, I promise. I'll be a good boy” his cock throbbed painfully in your mouth. You marvel at the musky taste of precum on your tongue and pull it off with a wet pop. 

“Oh, you want to be my good boy?” You tease, leaning forward and letting a glob of spit fall from your plump lips onto his tip. Matty's eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the sight of your smudged red lips spitting on him and your hand working your salvia over his aching cock. 

“Yes yes. I wanna be your good boy-” he said, straining his words as he did. clearly yearning for your praise.

“You're such a good boy, sweetheart. My good boy” You give him a cheeky smile as you sink your mouth all the way down on Matty and begin furiously working his cock in your mouth.

Matty was chanting obscenities as your mouth moved over him, getting more and more incoherent as you went. Wet slurping noises filled the air of the small cupboard along with Matty's frenzied words. 

You feel his dick pulse in your mouth, and you know he's close. His body was telling the story that he couldn't.

“M’ so so close baby- please please can I cum?” he pleads with you, looking down with wide puppy dog eyes. His begging only caused the wet patch in your underwear to grow, holding this much power over a man like Matty was turning you on beyond belief.

You pulled off with a gasp and continued to furiously pump his cock with your hand, “What was that baby? Tell me again, I didn't quite catch it over your fucking pathetic whimpers.” ever so slightly your hand slows and Matty immediately stutters to repeat himself, desperate to give you what you want.

“Fuck yes, you're gonna make me cum. FUCK. please can I cum? I really want to cum in your mouth. Please please pleaseplease-” he nods as he speaks in a desperate attempt to convince you to allow him the release he needs so intensely.

“Since you've been polite, and such a good boy” his cock leaks on your fist at the praise, revelling in you calling him good. you lean forward as you speak, your mouth teasing the tip of him.

“cum” you demand and place his dick back in your mouth.

Matty's mouth falls open, and he lets out a guttural groan, with a few weak thrusts combined with your bobbing head he spills onto your tongue.

You moan at the taste of him as his cum trickles down your throat. He pants above you as you pull off and give him a sly grin. 

You knew he was staring at you like you were an angel on earth, so you opened your mouth to present him with the ribbons of cum that sat on your tongue.

You brought your hand up and stuck your fingers in your mouth, spreading his cum around the inside of your cheeks. Even bringing some out so smudge over your lips.

As you swallow, an involuntary groan comes out of you. You lick your lips deliberately, knowing Matty loves a performance. 

He stared down at you dumbly, in shock over what he had just witnessed.

Once he was capable of speaking again Matty groaned, “fucking hell, that was insane. You're insane ” he panted as he tried to catch what little breath he had.

You smile like the Cheshire cat and rise off your knees to stand chest-to-chest with Matty. You lean in and kiss him desperately.

Matty can taste his release on your tongue, and he briefly thinks this might be the hottest thing that has ever happened to him.

His tongue chases yours urgently, trying to keep you intertwined and chase the taste of him in your mouth.

Voices outside the door pull you away from each other. You both stare nervously at the door, but luckily, the voices drift past effortlessly. 

A laugh escapes the two of you, and Matty pulls you in for a hug. His chest heaves as you burrow your nose into the junction between his neck and shoulder. You pull up slightly and lick the outside of his ear before whispering, “So I think you liked that” with a cheeky giggle.

Matty looks at you with a grin that goes ear to ear and nods slowly, both of you lightly laughing at the absurdity of the situation. 

“I definitely liked that.”

#christmas75 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy smut #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #teacher au! #i did enjoy writing this #was able to convince myself that reading smut counted as “research”

[eoieopda]

PM already sent for smut authorization! The Bad Thing - Arctic Monkeys with Kim "NOT a Good Boy" Taehyung. <33

ayyyyyyyy! one of my favorite bands! this might be the smut fic of mine that i like most??? who am i……

listen here

cw: SMUT — 18+ so minors must avert their eyes! married!reader strays from her god-awful husband, public (restroom) sex, v fingering, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, implied continuing affair, not fully proofread yet lol

(3/4/23) A follow-up, full-length one-shot is available here once you read this!

do the bad thing / take off your wedding ring / but it won’t make it that much easier / it might make it worse

Taehyung hates these firm dinners.

His boss is an asshole with bad taste in restaurants; and the majority of his team is full of retired frat stars who peaked in college. They drink too much, they get loud, and then they get rude to the waitstaff. The worst of them was sat two seats away, guffawing from his spot at the head of the table: Park Ji-won.

Taehyung doesn’t mean to stare, but he can’t help it. Fork clenched a little too tightly in his right hand, he can neither pretend the food in front of him is edible nor peel his narrowed eyes off Ji-won.

That sanctimonious fuck was on his fourth shot of whiskey, ogling any waitress that passed by, and spewing tasteless jokes. Taehyung used to push back in these moments, but he stopped trying because it seemed to hurt more than it helped.

The only person more mortified by Ji-won’s actions — who would be further humiliated by additional attention drawn to them — occupied the space between him and Taehyung: his wife.

Taehyung has spent the past two years wondering if you hate your husband as much as he does. Truth be told, likely more so.

You were supportive. You came with your shithead spouse to all his important work events and you looked perfect at every one of them. To top it all off, you were an incredible conversationalist — successful in your own right, sharp as a tack, and all smiles despite the mouth-breathing troglodyte at your side.

Until he’d start acting like this, that is.

Jaw-dropping as you were, the only one present not paying attention to you was the one who vowed to do so. Publicly, and in front of all your friends and family — in sickness and in health, as long as the two of you live.

And Taehyung can’t fucking stand to watch him ignore you.

You’re not eating, he notices, just sitting quietly with your eyes and head lowered. Maybe you finally look as neglected as you feel. Or maybe, like him, you get through your husband’s antics by imagining you’re elsewhere.

Somewhere exciting.

Taehyung, for example, imagines you staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror while he fucks you from behind.

“— and then I told her, if you really wanted my business, you should’ve dressed like it. This stupid bitch showed up in a turtleneck like there’s a brain somewhere above those tits!”

You flinch at your husband’s words, then at his laugh, then at the high-five he exchanges with his boss. God, you poor fucking thing — cheeks burning with embarrassment, eyes flicking over to Taehyung to communicate an apology you shouldn’t have to make.

You don’t flinch, however, when Taehyung’s right hand bumps against the side of your left thigh as he pulls it off the table.

Your little black dress is tasteful when you’re standing, but it rode up when you sat down earlier. His knuckles brushed against your bare skin when he retracted his hand and he saw the way it made you hold your breath. He sees the way you keep glancing at him and the way you’re pretending not to.

So, Taehyung gambles.

With how closely everyone is packed at the table, no one’s the wiser when he slowly extends his arm in your direction. Millimeter by millimeter, his hand hovers closer until he’s able to run the knuckle of his index finger over that same bit of flesh.

Not an accident, but calculated. Subtle, too, and soft as a whisper. You clench your thigh reflexively, but you don’t move away. If anything, your leg shifts closer.

So, you did feel it — and you liked it.

Taehyung is emboldened; his rapidly beating heart has blood pumping through his veins, down down down instead of up. Certainly not to his brain, the one thing that could’ve stopped him from sliding his hand overtop of yours.

From pinching that gaudy wedding ring between his thumb and middle finger, and slipping it off to claim in the palm of his hand.

You don’t stop him when he pulls his hand back and stuffs it into the pocket of his slacks. You do follow him with your eyes as he stands up, pushes in his chair, and excuses himself.

One quick glance over his shoulder tells him you’re still watching as he walks towards the hallway ahead.

When he dips out of view, he keeps walking until he reaches the single, gender-neutral bathroom at the very end of the hall. Unlike the gendered bathrooms on either side, this one has no stalls — less risk of interruption.

Even better, the speaker spilling soft jazz into the restaurant is built into the ceiling, directly above its door — less risk of being overheard.

He ducks inside, shuts the door behind him, and crosses to the counter. Once he reaches it, he turns and leans against it with his gaze zeroed in on the door in front of him. He doesn’t know for certain that you’ll follow, but he hopes to god that you do.

After a few minutes, there’s a soft knock at the door.

He doesn’t say a word in response, opting to wait with his arms crossed over his chest. He tilts his head to the side as the door opens slowly. Warm all over, he smiles to himself when he sees the pointed toe of your black stiletto through the widening crack.

Then you appear, looking good enough to eat. There’s conflict in your expression, but your body language doesn’t convey the same sense of doubt. The steps you continue to take toward him are purposeful. When you finally close the distance, he can see it clear as day:

You want this and you feel awful for that, but you can’t stop yourself. Taehyung won’t be the one to try.

“I’ve never received a proposition in the form of grand theft,” you words tease, but your tone is the shyest he’s ever heard it. Oh, you angel. “Are you always this forward?”

He scoffs and tells you the truth, “Absolutely not.”

Never in his life had Taehyung pictured himself being so reckless as to make a pass at someone’s wife while they’re seated right next to her. But, then again, he’s never seen someone sit next to their wife and fail to give a shit that she’s there. Time after time after time.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other. So fucking cute when you’re shy. You decide to be reckless too and quirk an eyebrow, “Then, what? You’ve decided that I’m special?”

Taehyung feels the heat radiating off your body with how closely you stand to him. He leans forward, lowering his head as he towers over you and whispers, “No, I didn’t.”

Your eyes are locked on his when they narrow. Your red-tinted lips form a pout that he wants to kiss right off your face; and you part them to speak.

“You did,” he answers before you can ask. It surprises you, judging by the way you blink in response, but it shouldn’t.

So, Taehyung puts his hands on your waist and silently instructs you to switch places. As soon as he’s got you in front of the mirror, he spins you around so that your back is pressed against his chest. You gasp, but he’s not sure if it’s the movement that shocks you, or the pressure of his hardening cock against your ass.

Through the mirror, your puzzled eyes regard him carefully. He looks down, only for a moment, to watch the way your chest heaves with the weight of your breathing. When his eyes drift back up to yours, he drops one hand to pinch the hem of your dress between his fingers.

“You’re not special because someone looked at you and decided you were.” His voice is low as his lips hover near the satin skin of your neck. You’re vibrating in his arms when he begins to tug the bottom of your dress upwards. “He never looks at you and you’re still this fucking perfect.”

With the fabric pulled up high enough, his hand falls slowly down towards your core. He can nearly feel your heartbeat with his mouth so close to your pulse point; but he doesn’t kiss you there.

Not yet.

If he had, he would have missed the desire washing over your face when his fingers nimbly pull the lace of your thong to the side. All he can do is behold that whimpering mouth as he slides his finger through your slicked folds; and makes contact with your touch-starved clit.

“What I don’t understand,” Taehyung starts with a murmur. You gasp as his fingertip swirls against you, but you still look straight ahead at his reflection through fluttering lids. “Is how anyone could stand to look anywhere else.”

God, you’re so fucking wet.

You moan so softly, it sounds like a sigh. It’s all he can think about, and he has to ask:

“When was the last time you were touched like this?”

His finger glides from your clit slowly, relishing your arousal as he approaches your entrance. Whether consciously or not, your hips swivel slightly against his pelvis.

A girl like you should never have to beg.

His middle finger penetrates you and your breath catches in your throat. When it finally slips through your parted lips, that mewl is the prettiest fucking sound he’s ever heard.

“Like you deserve to be touched.”

His palm is drenched in your wet heat as you grind against his hand. Your reservations leave you when the pad of his finger finds that neglected spot behind your pubic bone. You bite down on your plush bottom lip and swirl your hips in tandem with his ministrations.

He leaves a chaste kiss on your neck without taking his eyes off of you. You unravel in his arms, fluttering around his finger as your orgasm overtakes you. Biting harder on your lip to muffle your moans, your manicured fingernails dig into his arm as it holds you tight against him.

“You shouldn’t have to silence yourself for other people,” he mutters against your skin before he kisses you again. Then, his tongue leaves a wet stripe over the same area. “Or shrink yourself to make anyone else feel taller.”

Your voice is raspy when you finally speak, but despite the hushed tone, there’s no ignoring your demand:

“Fuck me, Taehyung.”

Taehyung removes his hands from you just long enough to wrestle with his belt. He jerks down his slacks and boxer briefs, all in one urgent move. You lean forward against the counter; your perfect cunt glistening, begging him to sheath himself inside of you.

The sound you make as he fills you is just as heavenly as it is obscene.

He clenches his jaw as he bottoms out, but he manages to grunt, “Shit — what kind man wastes pussy like this? You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

It’s an unconscious decision — something primal, instinctive — to hold your arms behind your back, pinning them with his own against his chest. You whimper at the change in angle. Now, his cock drags over your g-spot with every thrust as he fucks himself into you.

“How could anyone leave a bed that they get to share with you?” He purrs with his mouth at your ear, and you keen, “I’d never leave the house again. Fuck!”

You whimper until he rolls his hips at a more feverish pace. Notably, you don’t silence yourself when you orgasm a second time. It’s music to his ears, hearing that uninhibited moaning as he fucks you through your high.

And that face!

Your eyelids shut so delicately despite how completely your orgasm consumes you — still so beautiful, even with the mess he’s making of you.

How can a person fall asleep next to you, wake up next to you, and not see you? He can’t fathom it — how someone could ignore the soft angles of your features and the ethereal glow of your skin. This is the face that could launch a thousand ships; and he’d volunteer to go down on any one of them just to see you like this.

“Holy s-shit,” you hiccup as he continues to drive himself into you, “Don’t ever stop fucking me. Fuck — Taehyung, you’re going to make me come again —“

The third time hits you the hardest.

Your back arches away from him and your head falls against his shoulder; you’re shaking. But he doesn’t stop, not when he follows you off the cliff, not while he releases inside of you — not until your cunt milks every last drop from his twitching cock.

The two of you are silent for the few minutes it takes both of your souls to return to your bodies. It’s just panted breaths, the rustling of clothes. You shimmy your dress back down to hide the evidence; he locks himself away behind a zipper.

When you’re both presentable again, you turn around to find him reaching in his pocket. Taehyung swears there’s disappointment stowed away in your eyes, but he doesn’t know what to do with it. His fingers finally find that gaudy, broken promise — but your hand on his forearm stops him before he can fish it out.

“Hold onto it for now.”

Your eyes are wide as if you also can’t believe what you just said. There’s a spark in them as they flit from your grasp to his face. The tiniest upward twitch at the corner of your mouth when you follow up with:

“It’ll be my reason to swing by yours later tonight. Ji-won won’t notice its absence — or mine.”

(3/4/23) What happens next...

#jade’s requests #jade’s drabbles #1k drabblepalooza #taehyung drabble #bts #bts army #bts v #bts drabble #bts smut #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts kim taehyung #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #kth #taehyung smut #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenarios #v x you #v x reader #v x y/n #v smut #v drabble #v imagine #v scenarios #kim taehyung smut #anon

[ayyyez]

Hello how are you today? I really enjoyed that last haikyuu ask you answered about flirting, so in keeping the haikyuu train going, could you do a spice/nsfw scenario on Osamu and the reader on him eating them out (he's a food lovin' boy so it stands to reason he's big on tasting and savoring LOL). If you feel like adding more characters I also like Sugawara and to add another you like, maybe Suna? Thanks and have a great test of your day

A/N: well hellooooo Osamu spiceeeee! I love Osamu sm he's one of my favs I honestly can't get enough of him so absolutely you can get this~ haha yes thank you for the Suna option too I also love him <3

TAGS: smut, eating out reader, reader has a vagina, no pronouns used just body parts referred to, under the cut bc smut, Osamu is pussy drunk, Suga takes charge, Suna is a cheeky little shit (affectionate)

CHARACTERS: Miya Osamu, Sugawara Koushi, Suna Rintarou

OSAMU MIYA

Osamu is nestled below, your legs bent over his shoulders while his tongue licks a broad stroke right against your opening up to your clit. There he swirls his tongue around hard and sucks. Paying extra close attention to that sensitive spot.

'Mmm.' You moan. 'S'good.'

Your hand finds his hair as he repeats the motion again, this time pressing his tongue a little harder on the stroke up.

'Mm yeah, baby.'

Osamu pushes your pelvis down with a firm hand as your hips stutter up against him. He doesn't stop for a second. Continuing to lap at your juices as he works his tongue against you.

'You like it?' He slurs as he pulls away only for a second to take a breath.

'Shit yeah, don't stop.' You tug on his hair bringing him forward for emphasis.

He's wearing that dopey, pussy drunk smile as he quickly burries himself back against you. His tongue works over time. Working between licking, circling and sucking. He changes rhythm between fast and hard to lazily and wanting.

It drives you mad, like he's bringing you out to the edge on purpose.

He's not though he's just so happy down there.

It's so warm and comforting as he burries himself further into you. His fingertips settle around your thighs, kneading deep against the flesh. It's like he's trying to ground himself and feel more of you all at once.

Your moans increase as his rhythm picks up.

'Y-yeah.' It's almost too much to get out, you're breathless. 'Don't stop baby.'

Osamu groans (almost growls) against your folds and the vibrations send a shudder right through you. You're close. It's building up inside you.

Fuck. He knows what he's doing.

You barely register the way he's begun to rut against the mattress and the iron grip of his hands against your thighs. His tongue is working inside you now. Strategically prodding your entrance with such precision.

Giving his roots one last tug you have to release his hair. It's all too much. You can feel the tingles taking over your body. All you can manage to focus on is throwing your head back against the pillow.

Osamu removes one of the hands from your thighs so he can work your clit at the same time and that's what sends you over the edge.

Your cumming and Osamu doesn't stop for a moment, riding you through it. Only slowing down to a gentle stop once your body has stopped jolting and he's lapped all of you up.

The dopey smile he gives you at the end is everything.

'Hey.' He says.

'Hey.' You manage to say back.

It's only after you realise he came too just from rubbing himself against the mattress as he ate you out and watched you come undone.

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

Sugawara kneels at the edge of the bed with your legs spread in front of him. He holds one of your legs bent, back of the thigh pressing against his chest while letting the other hang off the bed. It gave him the 'perfect position to dive in' as he likes to say.

That's exactly what he is doing now: diving in.

Sugawara is an enthusiastic lover but above all else he is a massive tease.

He's got his tongue buried inside you one minute working you so good, his fingers working your clit too and then the next he's pulling you making you tell him how much you want him to continue.

Right now he's working on the tongue burying phase.

He's face deep into your pussy. Lapping up the juices, tongue working against your opening as his thumb lightly brushes your clit. It's strategic, the gentle brushes —it also means he can use the rest of his hand to hold your pelvis down as you buck up for more friction.

Suga is relentless at maintaining control over eating you out.

'Easy there.' He says as you squirm beneath him. 'Don't you want to let me make you feel good?'

You narrow your eyes at him then huff, relenting.

'Aw come on, don't be like that.' He puts a little more pressure on your clit for emphasis. 'How do we ask nicely?'

You huff again but cave. 'Please make me feel good.'

'As you wish.'

Suga goes right ahead and burries himself right back into you. He also works double time with his tongue and sucks harder. The edging part is over as long as you let him do his thing.

It's not long before you feel that coil build again and snap.

'Koushi!' Is the name that leaves your lips when you cum.

Suga won't have it any other way as he continues to lap at you and take you through your high. As you come down he'll be super smug that he's the one who made you feel that way.

SUNA RINTAROU

It's 1am and neither of you can sleep and Suna is squeezing you from behind. His hands brush under your shirt then drift lower and lower when they softly start brushing over your underwear.

'Hey.' He whispers right against your ear.

'Mmm.' You manage back.

'I'm bored, can I eat you out?'

You snort. 'You wanna eat me out 'cause you're bored?'

He chuckles a little. 'Yuh. Also because you're hot and I love you. Do I need another reason?'

'Mm I guess not?' You think on it for a second. 'Alright.'

And that's how you find a shirtless Suna lapping lazily at your pussy at 1am with the sheets half tossed down his body.

He moans a little as you push into him. It sends a little tingle up your spine and a shudder through your body. You don't need to look at him to know he's smirking. Bastard did it on purpose.

You squish his head with your thighs a little as a warning but he does an even more exaggerated moan as he sucks against your clit.

'Fuck Rin!' You chastise feeling the vibrations more intense this time. 'Stop pretending you're a vibrator and use your damn tongue!'

You can hear him snickering as he pulls off for a breath.

'But you look so cute when you squirm.' He presses a kiss to your thigh.

You sit up and yank his hair for good measure which pulls a delicious moan from him.

'Alright, alright lesson learnt! I'm sorry! I'm done.'

Getting his hair pulled was always his weak spot.

'Back to work.' He says with a smirk as he dives back down.

Immediately he begins lapping you up. He licks harder and with more of a rhythm than before. It's less lazy and more purposeful.

Suna continues at it for a while before adding his hand to the mix. He switches between his tongue and fingers, making sure to pay close attention to all your sensitive areas, including your clit. Inbetween he also comes up for air to bite your thighs right near wear they connect to your pelvis.

It's all too much. So many sensations. It's all so sensitive and stimulating.

You're cumming hard right against Suna's mouth and he pulls you close to catch it all. He strokes your thighs and gently runs his mouth against you through it.

The cheekiest damn expression on his face afterwards.

'Don't I just have the best ideas early in the morning?'

'Ahuh you're so clever with my cum on your face, babe.'

'Oh, you wanna give me a kiss?'

Never a dull moment with Suna.

#haikyuu requests #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #hq x you #hq x reader #osamu headcanons #osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya headcanons #osamu miya smut #osamu smut #sugawara x you #sugawara smut #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #sugawara x y/n #sugawara headcanons #suna rintarou #suna rintarou headcanons #suna rintarou x reader #suna smut #suna rintarou smut #suna rintaro smut #suna rintarou x you #suna headcanons #osamu imagine #suna imagine #sugawara imagine

[ghouljams]

Hihi! This is my first time requesting so I’m a lil nervous lol but I LOVE ur writing, especially your cowboy aus!!

I was scrolling on insta and saw this : https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3YYJmyPETo/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Immediately thought of cowboy!Graves during a rodeo winking and giving reader, who’s sitting in the front row with her friends, his signature devilish smile when he lands on the fence. Maybe even taking his hat off and reader thinks he’s just saying hi (tipping his hat yk?) but he ends up putting it on her head?? Save a horse ride a.. yk 😏 kinda thing

Maybe he comes and finds her after the show or vice versa and it gets a lil spicy?? Or maybe some fluff + banter would be better? idk 🤷‍♀️

NEwaysss just some late night thoughts that are squirming their way into my brain. Totally feel free to ignore this and have an amazing day/night!! 🫶🫶

Ok, I hope you don't mind me tweaking this a little, I've got Graves set up as a bull rider, with his sweetheart riding brocs, and this just popped into my head as soon as I saw that man hit the bars.

The bronc bucks you right off and onto the metal fence. Your shin hits the bar and you nearly roll over the top into the crowd. You manage to catch yourself before that happens but not before nearly face planting into someone's lap. You look up and flash them your best smile, and feel the wind rush out of your sails staring up at Graves. Eyes previously fixed down your shirt, dart to meet your own. His lips curl over his teeth in a way that make you think he'd rather bite you than anything else, more baring his teeth more than smiling. Heat rushes to your face, embarrassment flooding you.

"Howdy," He coos, and you scramble to get off the fence and back into the ring. He laughs when you jump back down to the dirt, and the sound follows you on your way to settle the horse. You reach up to fix your hat and hit empty air, you look around the ring for it and spot your least favorite bull rider plucking it out of the stands to settle on his head. He waves his hat for you and you feel your blood boil.

Forget the horse you hustle backstage, you cannot think about the horse and your hat, and the way he'd smiled at you without a stiff drink.

"That was a first place dismount," One of your friends laughs, as you look around for you stuff. You need every reason not to stick around. You're smart, you're capable, you know exactly what's going to happen in the next few moments if you aren't ready to book it.

"Fourth place ride," You grumble, snagging your water bottle from their hand. You get most of the way out of the door before you're caught.

A firm arm catches your waist and spins you to meet a wolf's smile. You do your best to look unamused when he tells you, "That was a lucky dive you took."

You work your tongue over your teeth for something to do instead of talking, trying to come up with the kindest way to say 'give me my hat back and let me go' the best you get is: "Thought PBRs didn't show up 'til tomorrow." If you'd thought the subject change would help it doesn't.

"You keepin' track of me? Here I thought you didn't like me." Unflappable, you don't think you've seen this man break once since you met him. You wonder what's wrong with him. Usually folks are able to take no for an answer.

"Never said that," You try to shake off his grip and he pulls you closer. Your arm bumps against his chest and you stiffen at the firm muscle. "A little space?" You gripe, feeling him lean into you.

"I'm alright," He purrs, tipping his head and running his thumb along the top edge of your belt, "comfortable actually."

"You flirt with all the bronc riders?" You ask watching a few walk by and smile at him, he raises a hand in greeting and pushes his hips against yours. You can't help the shiver that snakes its way down your spine, the way your hand goes to grab his wrist when his fingers brush against your stomach.

"Just the real feisty ones."

"So all of them." You make a small noise pressing back into him to try and get away from the warmth of his hand.

"Don't be like that sweetheart," He presses, his chin settling against your shoulder, the depth of his voice makes you squirm, you hate flirts, you hate that they get to you like this, "you and me are end game, the sooner you figure that out the better it'll be." He hums, and you can almost feel him thinking before he tacks on, "for both of us."

He lets you go and you stumble a step out of his grasp, turning to glare at him. He settles his hat on your head and suddenly your glare feels more like a pout.

"Lemme buy you a drink, help ya walk off that dismount." He offers with a crooked smile.

"Top shelf," You glare.

"Of course," He cocks his head.

"As much as I want," You narrow your eyes further, just because it makes his eyes sparkle with heat.

"Anything you want sugar, any time you want it."

...

Maybe you can entertain one flirt once. Especially when he slips the bartender a black card and orders a round for the bar. You probably should notice that everyone in the bar is masked, and sporting the same rook/spade insignia, but you're a little more preoccupied with the drink Graves slides you. Your confidence only wavers when you remember you didn't tell him what you drink, and somehow- somehow he's gotten it exactly right.

#cod x reader #x reader #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves cod #graves cod #graves x reader #graves mw2 #graves call of duty #phillip graves call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cowboy au #pbr!graves #f!reader #Graves you better get outta there before the 141 shows up for Goose's ride #otherwise you're fucked

[applesontheground]

I honestly can’t remember if I’ve actually written out this ask before and either deleted it or sent it out into the universe, but can you write how the Sinclair brothers would react (or just bo😉) to seeing their clumsy s/o try to fix something on a rooftop and accidentally slipping off. Reader laughs it off or maybe they’re slightly hurt and the brothers are like 😑😠 they thought you were hurt! You could have been hurt! I just love that kind of drama lol

oh, i’m a clumsy critter through and through so i feel this one a little too personally. i’d love to indulge it with some sinclair love! ❤ (also, i used the initial prompt for bo’s drabble, but threw in some diff ideas for vin & les! they’re partially anecdotal because as i’ve said, i get myself in jackassery on a weekly basis lol!)

the sinclair brothers & clumsy S/O 🕯️  (gn reader)

SFW | Word Count: 1,495 | The Sinclair Brothers x GN Reader (separate drabbles at ~400-600 words)

It was one drip spattering against your head too many. The remnant of yesterday’s rainstorm making its way through the shingles of the roof where it felt as though it had just done it to irritate you was enough to make you proactive, dropping what you were doing and heading for the back of the house.

You waited until dusk crept its way under the skin of the town and wake its glimmering façade to step out onto the back porch of the Sinclair home with the ladder. Vincent had rummaged it out of the garage without so much else besides an unwaivered stare when you explained what you were planning on doing.

He helped get you going because you weren’t his worry per se. You were Bo’s, which was more insisted on by the latter than something Vincent really agreed to. It was almost scarier than the fact you were about to get up on the roof without running it by him first.

You had just gotten your bearings, clambering up the cold and dusty metal rungs and flattening out against the shingles on your stomach, when you heard the door swing open and the familiar voice start talking, not yet aware there was no one inside to listen to him. You pushed up to stand, the rough slats enough for your soles to find a grip. Still, as you stood upright, your entire frame couldn’t help but rock a little as you felt for your bearings.

Of course, that was what the man had made his way through the house just in time to see when he stepped outside, hearing the scrabbling above his head and half believing he was hearing things before realizing you were in fact up there.

“Hey! Nuh uh!” Bo stepped back, getting a better view at what you were doing. He snapped his fingers to make you look before pointing to the porch in a vicious movement, “Get the fuck down, [Y/N]! The hell’re you doin’?” You paused, finally fumbling back onto your knees and replied, “The roof’s leaking.” You tried to push up to stand again, but the unsure noise soon had the ladder shifting as Bo took matters into his own hands, one foot on the first rung in a matter of seconds.

“Bo, it’s okay-“ You began, but he interrupted in a voice that somehow got meaner as he repeated himself, “[Y/N], said get down, damn it!”

The tone was enough to make you slide towards the gutter, rolling your eyes at first and expecting to be grabbed by him like some sort of unruly pet rather than a [boyfriend/girlfriend/partner]. It was the lack of tugging – rather, the firm settling of his palm against your hip as you started to step down the ladder – that made your attitude fizzle.

“I’ve seen stupid, and I’ve seen clumsy,” Bo muttered, not looking you in the eye but still keeping a hand on your lower back, “But a combination of the two? Lookin’ for a broken leg.” You paused, staring at the side of his face until he finally stopped minding the way you were climbing to look you back in the eye. When one foot touched the porch, he snaked his arm around one of your hips, hoisting you away from the ladder and muttering, “Now don’t give me that, I’m not sayin’ I don’t trust you.”

You scoffed, “Oh, what? Gonna tell me you don’t trust the roof? The ladder?” He froze, and ended the conversation by spinning on his heels, taking your feet off the ground again and making you squeal in surprised laughter. “If anyone’s doin’ that kind of work, it’s me. Got that?”

When he set you on your feet your knees suddenly buckled. He watched in bemusement as you stumbled forward when he let go, and when you only had an embarrassed glance over your shoulder, he muttered, “Yeah. Yeah, that wouldn’t have ended well for anyone around here.” He laughed to himself with another shake of his head, turning away from you.

“Vincent, look at what I found at the flea market. Some-“ You turned away from where your eyes had caught onto the wall, stuck to some well-formed facial structure protruding in a lunge of wax, and were face to face with the back of an unfamiliar head.

“WHOOP-“ You let out an involuntary noise, your entire body flinching out of the way and in a twist of an ankle becoming parallel to the ground. You grasped the cassettes that you had brought to show Vincent for dear life as you went knee-first into the ground, making another silly noise as the air was knocked from you and the rest of your body hitting the floor in a solid thud.

The initial impact was still coursing through you, a prick of agony in your leg as you heard something drop against Vincent’s work desk. He put his hand on the desk, the visible eye straining at you. It maybe took a few good seconds before you noticed the slight wobbling of his sturdy frame, and the quiet snort that he quickly tried to muffle with an arm over his stone still mouth. Your jaw dropped in an exaggerated gesture, elbows pushing up to support you better as you jutted your neck at him and asked, “Are you laughing at me?”

He shook his head, turning away from you to get his bearings before doing anything else. You scoffed, slapping your hand against the floor in a one-armed shrug. “Hey, it was either that or I mess up your hard work.” You then gave a forlorn glance to the…person standing beside you.

He finally turned back around, sauntering over to hold his hand down. At a closer range, you could hear the quiet giggles from behind the mask. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh at your clown.” You muttered, and he finally paused to dust your shoulder off.

“…That it?” You asked, and even with the ingrained moment’s hesitation before doing it, he then pushed the delicate edge of his own mask up before giving you a peck on the cheek, a hand finally starting to move, you put on a great show here and again.

The second noise of exasperation just broke the giggles out a second time, its own encore as he wrapped his arms around you, finally noticing what you had dropped and nodding at them in a mute question.

“Oh, yeah!” You grinned, “Those!”

It wasn’t until you were well in the middle of the stream, water dappling your exposed ankles as it trickled past, that you wondered if there was a reason in particular Lester had sent you to cross the wash-out first today.

“Mind the water now, rose overnight. Makes the rocks slippery as shit.” He called, but just as you had registered what he had said you took another step on a promising rock, and your heel skidded out from under you. Lester gasped as you fell back first into the water, the world falling silent and murky as even your head was pulled under.

Just as soon as it happened, you were finding your bearings and immediately pushing back out over the surface, arms flailing as you regained balance. “I’m okay!” You hollered, turning to stand in the rushing water on your knees, uncaring to the way your entire outfit was now soaked and you had to be at an angle alongside the current. You heaved yourself up, and what seemed like an entire pitcher’s worth of water came up with you in the form of soaked clothes and hair as you beamed in a dopey manner to the man still on land, not sure whether to laugh or scold you.

“The hell you are. Didn’t ya hear me?” He finally decided on the latter, throwing his hands up at the display in front of him. You replied with an exasperated strain to your voice, “Sure, but you forget I’m not a good listener.” He neared the shore as you waded closer, helping pull the sopping mess back to his side of the wash-out.

“Well. Think it’s more of a luck thing than a stupid thing.” He began, but as you gave him a daring glance he corrected himself, “Not sayin’ anything, now let me help ya out.” He took both of your wrists as you broke from the current, stumbling onto the land and bracing his own forearms to steady yourself.

“First person that makes bein’ a dope look cute.” He commented as you stood a little straighter, but when you only gave him another astounded expression he muttered, “Gon’ be quiet for a little bit.”

You scoffed at that, careening into him and making him flinch from the cold water soaking into his shirt as you lassoed your arms around his torso. “Never want you to be quiet.” You murmured, giving him a kiss as he finally figured a little water wouldn’t kill him.

#bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #slasher x reader #requests #slasher requests #slasher fanfiction #✏️ #🕯️ #anon corner #THIS WAS SO FUN I MISSED MY BOYS

[cowboycannibalism]

I seen this 3 weeks ago but I'm barely posting it because I forgot lol work got crazy

okay some immediate thoughts on The Menu (2022), I literally just got out of the theater so it's very fresh and jumbled in my mind. ⚠️some spoilers included⚠️

Definitely a slow start and requires paying attention to little details to really get a read on the individual characters but I really enjoyed that. It makes you uneasy throughout most of it

It could have used a little more gore/blood but honestly the kills that happened were so jarring and unexpected it made up for the lack of blood

my sister ( a person who went to culinary school), and I (a person who went to art school) both enjoyed the aesthetic of the movie very very much! especially the close ups of the individual courses and descriptions that went along with them. they were beautiful and an interesting way to break up scenes

the characters were all so well done in terms of making you not root for them lol. a group of stuck up, rich people who just right off the bat were people I knew I wouldn't like

that being said the casting was wonderful! everyone played their character so well!

Tyler was so annoying! He had hyperfixated vibes at first where it was very relatable that he was so obsessed with the restaurant and the chef and everything. But as the movie went on he treated Margot like shit for not being as interested even though he was fucking paying her!! like bro you just spent half of the beginning of this saying she was so cool and being cutesy with her and also oh yeah she's an escort so quit being a dick you had to pay her to be there!

I will say Tyler's death definitely hurt me in a weird way. Watching Slowik humiliate him in front of everyone and then say something so cruel that he goes to kill himself...oof.

Also Tyler knowing for 8 months about everything!!! fuck dude.

Lilian and Ted were so realistic in the way that food critics(or any high end critics)talk about the dishes put in front of them. They could never just enjoy something, they always had to find the negative, never could be pleased or satisfied because that doesn't make an interesting review

Margot standing up to Slowik and making him make her a cheeseburger because of his past was so beautiful. Her push back to him being both disrespectful and firm while also giving him back that memory of being a line cook at a burger place from his youth. Of reawakening that love of cooking in him for just a moment.

the overall theme of an artist losing their love for their craft not necessarily it being their fault but because of the community that surrounds that medium was very rough for me to watch as an artist. The art world(any form of art) is so full of classicism and the further you get, the more praise you receive, the more known you become, the harsher it is to you. Not for the sake of bettering you or the craft, no its often just a game of egos and money and fame. Slowik had started off a line cook with a love of what he was doing and then to please the community that surrounded him he changed, and the thing that he loved, that he cherished, it became a chore. a punishment.

Everyone had a reason to be there and I can't find any pity for them except maybe the workers in the kitchen.

the scene with the tortillas had me screaming!!! the exposure of the misdeeds was mwah!!!

Also the fact that no one really tried their hardest to get away was really interesting. they protested things happening to them, they screamed and yelled and tried to escape a few times but it never felt frantic, it never felt like they were desperate to live.

that ties into the way that they eventually accept their fate at the end. they know why they're all there and they know it's pointless to fight or scream about their status or offer money/fame/etc.

they also all in their own way had lost their way in life and the whole menu was designed to show them that as well as how they ruined Slowik's love of his art

#the menu #horror #horror films #movie review #the menu 2022 #anya taylor joy #yami's movie thoughts

[slytherinshua]

CRUSH ON THE TRACK genre ➳ fluff. racer au. warnings ➳ not proofread lol. pairing ➳ racer!minhyun x fem!reader. wc ➳ 2.2k. a/n ➳ a special surprise spinoff to this fic by @blue-jisungs!! hehehe i hope u enjoy axe 🫡

Truthfully, you had never seen the appeal of race cars. They were noisy and expensive, and the drivers did look cool, but the races were boring to you. Your father was a sponsor of the racing league, however, so you had no choice but to tag along to every season championship and watch the races. 

It was a rainy day— your favourite type of weather. You thought the cars looked a bit better on wet tracks, and if they happened to slip off, the race became more entertaining. You stood with the pit crew, watching as they made final adjustments to the car they were working on, fixing the tyres, and checking the aerodynamics, etc.

“Who’s car is this?” You asked one of the crew, noticing its burnishing design that stood out from the rest of the boring, monotonous cars on the track. It was actually kind of pretty, and that was a high compliment coming from you. You were rarely impressed by a design.

“Optimus. He’s pretty new, but he’s been winning like crazy.”

“Hm…” The name sounded familiar, and you quickly realised that your father was the one sponsoring him, and you also may or may not have giggled at the ridiculous name when you had first heard it. You decided you’d pay extra attention to him this race and see how he did.

You stepped out into the rain, the early morning dewy smell welcoming your senses. Times like this made you happy to be on the race track so often, though you were sure you’d be bad at driving the cars if you tried. You liked being a safe driver, and there was nothing remotely safe about the speed at which these cars could go.

“The race will commence in 20 minutes!” The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers. You sighed and brushed off the water droplets from your varsity jacket. You would soon be kicked off the track and have to sit in the boring old stands and listen to the deafening sound of car engines and screeching tyres on the track. 

“Y/n! Can you give Minhyun his helmet?” One of the pit crew called out to you. You nodded and jogged to the table where a black helmet was sitting, picking it up and nodding at how consistently pretty this racer’s gear was. Maybe he wasn’t quite as shabby as the other racers on the track. 

You turned in a circle, trying to locate who you were supposed to give the helmet to, eyebrows furrowing as you only saw the pit crew and no racer in sight.

“Where’d that punk go?” One of the crew shouted with a laugh. They must be fond of Minhyun to joke around right before the race.

“Sorry!” You heard a shout and turned, seeing him run up. At least his race suit was already on.

“Here.” You passed him his helmet, silently in awe of the boy who looked around your age. He had a small face and pretty doe eyes that you had to force yourself to look away from. He was exactly your type.

“Where were you? This is the first race of the season where you’re solo.” Your father came up, giving Minhyun a firm pat on the shoulder.

“Sorry, I was talking with Furious.” He explained, running a hand through his brown hair, successfully taking your breath away. 

“Ah, your past co-driver? Did she congratulate you?”

Minhyun nodded, a lopsided smile spreading on his face. You subconsciously smiled with him. 

“Minhyun, I have a new assistant for you.” Your father announced with a smile, then, placing his hands on your shoulder, pushed you forward a bit. “Meet my daughter, Y/n. She’ll be working with you 3 times a week.”

Your eyes went wide. Minhyun smiled and offered his hand for you to shake which you took a little shyly.

“I’m honoured.” He grinned and released your hand as the 5 minute standby announcement played. Adorning his racing helmet, he stepped into the driver’s seat of the car.

//

Working with Minhyun was exhilarating. He had won that first race, and ever since, he kept on finding ways to outdo himself. He shaved seconds off his time, perfected his drifting technique, and, much to your dismay, somehow got even more charming. 

You were done for.

Your crush on him had grown to an enormous amount. Hiding something so unstable and uncontrollable as your feelings for him was a recipe for disaster. You were sure that one of these days, one of the times he got out of his car and slid off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair and looked at you with those piercing eyes of his, you’d let it slip.

Or, worse, maybe he already knew. You didn’t know how obvious you were being, or how good Minhyun was at catching on. Maybe he knew the first time he saw how pink your cheeks and ears got when he asked you to watch him race around the track or pass him his helmet. 

It was a cool sunny day, and you had arrived at the track before Minhyun. With your heart fluttering and something mixed between butterflies and a fire in your stomach, you started getting his car ready. You liked to listen to music while you did it, letting your mind wander through melodies as you checked the mechanics. 

Being so focused on his car, you didn’t even realise when the boy himself came up behind you. A gentle tap on your shoulder was more than enough to alert you, though, and you turned around swiftly, eyes meeting his.

“I could kidnap you so easily, you know?” He grinned.

“W-what?” You didn’t realise how frozen you were and how god awfully stupid you probably looked to the slightly older boy. He just laughed, light and airy and in a way that made your stomach do flips and colour reach the tips of your ears.

“Your spacial awareness is… wow, really really bad.” He continued, smile growing ever more teasing. He seemed extra confident this morning, which didn’t help with your extra-nervous demeanour.

“Shouldn’t you get ready to practise?” You suggested, thinking of the first thing that could distract him from coming any closer to you with that face that you had the very sudden urge to lean slightly forward and kiss.

No. That would be a disaster. You would probably be fired if you did that. Your father would ban you from coming to races and you’d never see Minhyun again. Not that he would want to see you again if you did, anyway. He would definitely be creeped out by it. Stupid, stupid thoughts.

You were able to slip back into the garage, muttering something about finding a tool. Minhyun just leaned against his car and watched you, a smile still playing on his lips. You were just so… adorable. And why was he only realising that today? Your mannerisms were so precious, and all he wanted to do was hug you. You’d probably fit into his arms just perfectly. The thought made him feel all warm inside.

Minhyun was the type to become extra cheeky and confident once he knew he had the upper hand. It didn’t take him long to note that not only did you like him as well, but that you also got flustered very easily. He used this knowledge to his advantage every single day. 

Minhyun had just finished his final lap on the new track, his performance as perfect as ever, shaving an extra 3 seconds off his time with his drifting skills improving on the corners. You would never get tired of watching him race. He stepped out of his car with a handsome grin, immediately coming up to you to ask how he did.

“You were okay.” You replied with a teasing smile.

“Only okay?��� He frowned, fishing for a bigger compliment from you.

“Maybe slightly more than okay.” 

“Really?” He leaned a bit closer to you, face dangerously close in a way that made your cheeks flare up.

“Y-yeah, really.” You stuttered until he straightened again, giving you space to breath and calm down.

“You’d better be there for the race tomorrow. I have something to tell you.” He told you vaguely and walked off, not giving you anymore hints, but successfully piquing your curiosity. You were planning to watch, anyway.

//

It was the biggest championship race of the whole season. Minhyun had fought hard to be in the lineup and compete, and he was easily one of the most anticipated racers. Your motivational tactics had definitely helped him practise and improve his skills, all leading up to this very race. His growing crush on you had given him ample reason to show up to practise as much as possible, and the results were clear. He was racing better than he ever had.

“Most important race of the year,” Minhyun’s past co-driver, Furious, commented with a pat on his shoulder. She was here for support, and secretly eager to meet whoever this girl was who Minhyun couldn’t shut up about.

“I’m one of the best racers here. I’ll do fine.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll do more than just fine. My money's on you for the trophy.” Furious smirked and then stood on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair, earning a scowl from the taller boy. “I’ll be in section A, not that you’ll have time to look for me while you’re busy racing.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you after the race.” 

You peered around the corner, watching them talk, feeling a strange mixture of jealousy and hurt swirl around in your stomach. Minhyun liked you… right? Right. There was no way he didn’t. Unless?

“Welcome to the championship race of the season, folks! We’ve all been anticipating this day, I’m sure!” You crept off to your seat at the sound of the announcer. The race would soon begin, and despite your unpleasant thoughts about Minhyun’s past co-driver, you weren’t going to miss seeing him race for a second. You watched Furious step up to her seat, a couple rows down from you but still in the same section. She was very pretty. 

“Let’s see the lineup, shall we?” The crowd's cheers were deafening as the camera panned down to the racers standing next to their cars on the asphalt. “And here we have the youngest, most loved driver of the season!! Everyone give it up for Optimus!” 

You clapped and screamed as loud as the rest of the crowd as the camera focused on him. He smiled cheekily and then turned to the crowd and blew a kiss. Right. At. Your. Section. You couldn’t help the blush that spread to your cheeks, but you quickly shut down your thoughts. The kiss was probably for Furious. She was in the same section, after all.

You didn’t have much time to linger on it, as the race soon commenced and your focus was entirely on Minhyun’s sleek red and black car speeding along the track. You watched in anticipation as he overtook the car in second place, obtaining it for himself. Now all he had to do was maintain it and catch up to first place. He managed that quicker than you thought possible, and the crowd erupted again.

You were on an adrenaline high as you watched Minhyun cross the finish line just barely before the car in second place. You stood up and raced down to the pit. You had never smiled so much in your entire life. You caught up to his crew just as he stepped out of the car and discarded his racing helmet.

Was it because he just won or was he always this breathtakingly handsome? Within a second of making eye contact, Minhyun was already running to you, sweeping you off your feet and into his arms, spinning you around slightly in a fit of laughter and the aftershock of just winning a race as prestigious as this.

“I knew you would win.” You rushed out, arms still clinging onto Minhyun’s figure, his gloved hands finding your waist, holding you close.

“Really?” He asked, out of breath, heart beating a mile a minute. You nodded quickly, face breaking out into a smile. “I love you.” He mumbled, leaning forward before you could process anything.

All your senses were filled with just him. It was all you could think of as he kissed you softly. Just Minhyun, and only Minhyun. You kissed him back, of course, and you decided it was probably the best thing you had ever experienced. His lips were soft and his hands held you close to him firmly. If you had a choice in the matter, you never wanted the moment to end.

When Minhyun pulled away, he hugged you again, arms circling around your figure tightly, face pressed against the side of your head. You felt as if you were flying amongst the clouds, giddy butterflies dancing around in your stomach at the thought that Minhyun had just kissed you. Feeling a boost of confidence, you pressed a quick kiss to his neck. He pulled back, half in shock, half in astonished delight.

“I didn’t know you had the guts.” He teased.

You laughed, “I have the guts to kiss my boyfriend.” You said simply, making Minhyun raise an eyebrow.

“I’m your boyfriend?” He asked, a smile curving on his lips.

“You are now.” You nodded, pulling him down for another kiss.

#minhyun #hwang minhyun #wanna one minhyun #nuest minhyun #wanna one hwang minhyun #nuest hwang minhyun #minhyun fluff #minhyun fic #hwang minhyun fic #hwang minhyun fluff #minhyun x reader #hwang minhyun x reader #wanna one fic #wanna one fluff #nuest fic #nuest fluff #fluff #fanfic #fic #slytherinshua fics 🍰

[garbinge]

Seen

Bishop Losa x OC Lara Barrera Losa (Father/Daughter) Angel Reyes x OC Lara Losa (quick interaction at the end!)

Day 21 from these April Prompts: A slight change in appearance

Summary: A little one shot of Lara and her pops, Bishop. I don’t have a place for this in my multi chap, Contaminated but there is some background from that story here. (You really only need to read the first two chapters but don’t really have to!)

Words: 1.8k 

Warnings: Angsty af. Daddy Issues. Mentions of murder and drinking.

A/N: This was pure coping for me, lol. 

​Contaminated Taglist: ​Using my Contaminated Taglist for this, I’m not sure where in the timeline of the multi chap this goes down but it does fit somewhere lol.  @est1887​ @minimel-fics​ @spnaquakindgdom​ @nessamc​ @alienstardust​@mrsstevenbuchananstark @hinagiku0​ @lyly00​ @drabbles-mc​ @lilac-tea-time​  @justreblogginfics​ @danzer8705

The night was early, but Lara was over being out and socializing. She had spent a majority of the night outside of EZ’s trailer with him and Frankie, just bullshitting the time away but now found herself walking back to the clubhouse. She hoped maybe Angel was back from whatever run he was out on and could take her home. 

The sound of Taza’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, her head raised to see him calling her from the porch. 

“Lara!” His hand raised as if she wasn’t able to see him. 

“What’s up?” She answered him as she got closer to the steps. 

“Do you mind taking your dad home? He uh- he really isn’t in any condition to drive.” 

“Can’t like Uncle Hank take him or something, me and him aren’t really–”

Before Lara could even finish her sentence, the clubhouse door barreled open and Bishop’s voice was the only thing that could be heard probably in a 5 mile radius. 

“Heee-hey!” He called out and threw his arm over her and Taza weighing them both down. “My best friend and my daughter, what more could I ask for?” His breath reeked of alcohol, it was practically pouring out of his pours. 

“Lara’s gonna take you home, mano.” Taza shifted in a way to lean most of Bishop’s weight on him so it wasn’t weighing down too much more on Lara. 

“Nah, nah, nah, nah” He repeated over and over again like saying it the first time wasn’t enough. “I can get home, I can take my truck.” Bishop pointed to where he thought his truck was but was far from the correct location. 

“No c’mon, I’m gonna take you back home.” Lara started to move down the stairs. “Let me get your keys.” 

“In a bit, let’s go back and hang for a little bit, there’s still a lot of people here.” Bishop’s words slurred as he tried to turn back around. 

“Give Lara the keys, Bish.” Taza’s voice was firm but still soft. 

“Alright.” Bishop gave up when Taza gave the direction, his misogyny showing. 

Taza took over getting the man into the passenger seat of his truck, letting Lara stand outside the driver's seat fiddling with the keys. 

“He’s good to go.” Taza came back over to the driver's side to hug the girl goodbye. 

“Real quick,” Lara pushed off the car and spoke to Taza. “Is Angel here? I had to ask him something about the scrapyard paperwork.” Lara came up with an excuse that by reading his expression Taza bought. 

“Ah, no, he’s not here. Still out with Gilly. I can let him know you were looking for him once he’s back.” 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll find him when I find him.” She shrugged and turned to get into the car. 

“He’s practically knocked out, should be an easy ride home, once he wakes up at the house he should be good to walk in with little help.” Taza called out to her. 

He wasn’t asleep. Or he wasn’t asleep for long. Just after Lara adjusted the seat and mirrors to fit her height and was making the right out of the scrapyard he opened his eyes. He was still out of it, but he definitely wasn’t asleep. 

“Where the fuck am I?” Bishop’s voice wasn’t at a yell but it wasn’t normal either. 

“I’m driving you home.” Lara’s voice was dull, just giving information not trying to poke the bear. 

His head snapped over to his daughter, taking in the site of her driving his car because he was too drunk to drive. His head fell back against the head rest and he closed his eyes, slightly ashamed at everything. 

“You, uh.” He sat up now, adjusting his posture in the seat. “You look different. You got” he moved his hand up to point towards his head. “You got new glasses or something like that?” 

“Something like that.” Lara responded. 

“Alright.” Bishop snapped. “I know I was a failure of a fuckin’ father.” Bishop spit out one of the most harsh sentences. “I got one kid dead and the other doesn’t even wanna talk to me.” 

The emotion was bubbling up in him, the drunkenness making it worse as his words slurred and he stuttered to find the things he wanted to say. 

“I know you hate me.” 

That sentence felt loud and clear. 

Lara’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as she got uncomfortable, she felt like a kid again, helpless, hopeless. 

“I was an awful father.” He was repeating the same things over and over again. “I pushed you away, I pushed your mom away, I pushed Antonia away. I lost Aiden, I lost your mom, I lost Antonia. I’m losing you.” 

“I didn’t realize I bought tickets to the pity party.” Lara spoke out, not wanting to sit in the uncomfortableness of everything. 

Bishop didn't say anything, just leaned against the passenger side window. 

“You weren’t a shitty father. You did what you thought was right.” Her voice was firm but she was trying to comfort him. 

“No. I was. You fuckin’ hated me. You left, you went off and moved in with some fuckin’ piece of shit. Only need me to clean up your dirty work.”

Lara knew he wasn’t trying to direct that anger on her or at her, he thought he was just shitting on himself but in the process, he was bringing his daughter down with him. Those words cut Lara deep. But the next ones cut deeper. 

“I’m just your piece of shit father. President of a fuckin’ MC, a goddamn gang. I’m the president of a fuckin’ gang and my daughter is a murderer.” 

My daughter is a murderer.

Lara tried to swallow the pain that came with that sentence but she felt it coming back up her throat. She tried to forget about the traumatic events of what was self defense towards her ex but every so often they found a way of sneaking back in, but all on her own account. Never her fathers. She pulled into his driveway now, what felt like hours of hearing Bishop shit on himself and now Lara was only 15 minutes from the clubhouse to his home. 

“We’re here.” Lara said, still monotone as she stepped out of the car and moved over to his side of the truck to guide his drunk being inside.

“Who's taking you home?” 

The sentence offered a moment of something, relief might have been too generous of a word but some hope for better conversation until Bishop shattered it with his next ones. 

“Cause you’re not fuckin’ stayin’ here.” 

Again, he was in his own pity party and he was dragging Lara down with him whether he knew it or not. 

“Look, you either got to move the fuck on or shut the fuck up.” Lara was over this, she wasn’t a kid anymore, she wasn’t going to take this. 

“Ge the fuck out of here.” Bishop snapped right back at the girl. 

Lara was now standing in the driveway staring at her father who barely could hold himself up when she nodded her head and took a step back. 

“Aiden might be gone for good. But I’m here. All I’ve ever wanted was to be here. I left because you made me. You pushed me out. I’ll get the fuck out of here, no problem. Because, hey,” Lara shook her head and smiled through the tears, “that’s what we do best, Dad. You push people away and I’ll just keep running away.” Her feet moved to walk away from him, not wanting to let him get another word in but his arm extended out to grab her. 

“Don’t!” She yelled out the first word. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.” The volume of her voice lowered but it was pointed and said between her gritted teeth. 

 Bishop was quick to retreat to the house, turning off all the lights which left Lara sitting at the curb crying in the dark as she pulled out her phone.

“Hey, I was just about to call you. We just got back to the club.” Angel’s voice was chipper. 

“Can, can you come pick me up?” Lara got the sentence out through sobs. 

Angel’s voice immediately turned from chipper to worried, “Are you okay?” 

“Yea, I just need a ride. I’m at my dads.” Lara wiped the tears and took a deep breath in followed by a few sniffles. 

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes.” 

_____

Lara expected to hear a motorcycle pulling up in front of the house but was shocked to see Felipe’s truck with Angel in the driver’s seat before he threw the car in park and hopped out to help her up off the curb. 

“You aight?” Angel asked as his hands met hers and brought her back into a standing position.

“Why didn’t you bring the bike?” Lara didn’t let go of his hands. 

“You didn’t sound like you were in the state to ride, plus didn’t know if this was more of a stealth pick up thing.” He pointed to Bishop’s house. 

Lara nodded as he helped her into the passenger seat and made his way back over to the driver’s side. Once he was in the car and situated, he looked at the girl. He wanted to ask her what happened but he noticed there was something different about her appearance, something small, but he put his finger on it immediately. 

“You cut your hair.” He said it with a smile. 

Lara looked back at him with frown and a smirk peeked through her tears. 

“You noticed?” 

“Yea it looks good.” Angel nodded and moved to place the car in drive. 

Angel wasn’t the type to notice things like that, and Lara really wasn’t one to care much either, but after the start of her conversation with her dad, this felt like some type of universal sign. She felt wanted. She felt safe. She felt seen. 

That’s all she really wanted. To feel seen. 

#Mayans MC #MayansMC #Mayans FX #Mayans Fanfiction #Mayans Fanfic #Bishop Losa #Bishop Losa x OC #bishop losa x daughter #Bishop Losa x daughter!oc #Bishop Losa's daughter #Angel Reyes #Angel Reyes x OC #Contaminated #contaminatedfic #OC Lara #oc lara losa

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I know I’ve probably done enough yapping about stsg and how much I love them but but but but….. the way u talked about suguru being jealous when reader has a partner?? Simply because he wants to make sure that you’re being loved and cared for enough??? I’ll actually explode right now oh my god I’m so serious he’s so loving?? I’m gonna be perfectly honest if I was his bsf I would be completely insufferable because if you wanted me to spend even a moment apart from that man you would have to drag me away kicking and screaming HES SO WIFE MATERIAL AUGHHHHHHHH. Oh god but imagine him if reader was cheated on by their partner I need to see him feral and ANGRYYY 🙏🙏 -stsg anon :3333

^ stsg anon this was my live reaction reading this YOU’RE SO……. wow we are just FEEDING each other’s sugu obsession aren’t we 😭😭😭 AS WE SHOULD!!!!!

BUT NO OKOKOK I . this makes me a little insane. FIRST OFFFF i’m so glad u agree??? i just think it’s so vital that he isn’t some possessive douchebag who thinks you belong to him or whatever, he just has a very firm belief that you deserve the best and that happens to be Him LMAO. he knows you better than he knows himself, knows what makes you happy and what buttons not to push — so he really just wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with someone who’s making you uncomfortable, who can’t give you what you need… :<

tbh that might also be what pushes him into confessing because he’s like im RIGHT here. i can show you what you deserve. i would fold

BUT STSG ANON MY LOVE MY LIGHT THE CHEATING IDEA????????? GENIUS.

oh he would be fucking FERAL alright like genuinely i think that’s the only time you really see him Angry. i’ve talked abt this before but !! to me sugu really is the kinda guy who seems very chill and composed but the MOMENT his loved ones are involved he’s just Fuming. like. he’s soooo scary.

first off. i think he would just be in disbelief??? like he’d believe you INSTANTLY don’t get me wrong but his brain just physically can’t wrap itself around the fact that someone would cheat on you. ESPECIALLY someone who is just so undeserving of you????? he thinks you’re soooo out of their league so just . the idea of it …… he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t want to understand.

but okok so his mother instincts would definitely tell him to focus on comforting you first and foremost. he just has this really insatiable need to soothe you. so if you come to his house and you’re just sobbing then his immediate instinct isn’t ”im gonna kill whoever did this” (thats later lol), but ”i need to make sure they’re okay.”

ohhh and if you call him … he is RUNNING to your house asap. no matter how far away it is. if it’s close enough to walk i think you’d open the door to see him just sweating, panting etc etc bc he literally ran as fast as he could to get to you. sprinting down the street like his life depends on it ohhhh he’s so…

AND THEN he’s just. so soothing. soso gentle. makes you tea and lets you cling to him and urges you to get all the tears out. just rubbing your back and whispering little soothing murmurs into your ear :((( until you calm down. and THAT’S when he makes you tell him what’s wrong.

and ohhhhhhh boy….,,,,, stsg anon………… the way he would just silently go feral. like. you barely notice it. you’re probably too upset to. but something in his jaw tightens and his eyes go dark and his hold on you grows just a smidge tighter, like that protective instinct inside him is crawling out of his skin…

it’s a little tough but i think he keeps it all under wraps as long as you’re there. so he can focus on making you feel better. just reassuring you, letting you know how much you deserve, how you shouldn’t waste your breath on someone so useless. like it’s OBVIOUS that he’s angry yk but he tries to maintain his composure. for you.

but ………….. after that. like. i’m thinking maybe you stay the night and he lets you sleep in his bed (maybe crawls in beside you if you ask for it bc you’re just really in need of stability and he’s far too eager to give it to you), and then you wake up and he’s making you breakfast and just kinda. casually lets you know that he’s gonna Talk to your partner. your ex partner. because if there’s one thing he refuses to budge on, it’s the fact that you’re breaking up with this idiot whether you like it or not. that’s the One thing where he doesn’t even hear you out, he’s not having it, you deserve to be happy and no one is allowed to hinder that.

and so he Talks to them <3333 and by talk i mean he very calmly but firmly tells them never to contact you again, and that if he sees them try they’re dead. (is he just trying to scare them? does he mean it? who knows who knows but what matters is that it works and you dont hear from them again <33)

i just really think this whole scenario makes something inside of him snap. i think that silent fury bubbles up every time he sees you question your worth, every tear you shed because of it. suguru is just so empathetic yknow? it tears him apart inside. makes him want to throw up.

and ohh god forbid you got trust issues after the whole cheating thing… i think that’s probably when he’d confess because he’d quite literally rather die than have to watch you go through the same thing with some other idiot. he really, genuinely, sincerely doesn’t trust anyone but himself to love you enough.

anyway im done in conclusion i love Suguru Geto <3333

#THIS MADE ME LOSE IT STSG ANON #LIKE GENUINELY #HES SOOOO #oh ur so realllll i would NOT let this man be away from me for more than two seconds if he was my bestie #hes SO wife and so loving and just <33333 he just loves you sooooo much its ridiculous #ask tag ✩ #stsg anon !! ✩

[mrfeenysmustache]

Something New

Just been in the mood to write snippets of InuKag fluff I guess.

CW: this deals with childbirth

————————————

The buttery morning light made his hair look like it was spun from a sunbeam instead of a moonbeam, and though she couldn’t see his face, she was sure his eyes were glowing.

“Inuyasha,” she whispered, throat still raw and dry, and he turned to her with bloodshot eyes that roiled with pride and love and fear and exhaustion.

“Kagome,” he replied softly, looking down at the bundle in his arms at it yipped and then yawned before settling back into sleep. “You should be asleep.”

“But I want to be near you.” She croaked out, and despite himself he whined like a kicked puppy, his ears laying back on his head as he crossed the floor of their hut and kneeled beside her.

“What can I get you? What do you need?” He asked urgently, and her tired heart twisted, a sleepy smile stretching across her mouth.

“Just you. And maybe some water. But I can get-“

“No. Stay down. I’ll get it.”

“But you have the baby.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, standing with fluid grace and collecting one of their cups, dipping it into the bucket of clean water Kaede had left behind so they could drink for at least the day without having to leave, and then he returned to her side and helped her drink with one hand, their new baby still sleeping in the other.

The first swallow slipped down her torn throat and she nearly cried in relief, sighing and sagging down into her bedding and feeling a little better, a little more settled and comfortable.

“How is he?” She asked, trying to sit back up so she could peek into the swaddle that had been made from Inuyasha’s fire rat, but he pushed her back down with a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t sit up. You need to rest.”

“Inuyasha, I’m fine.”

His brow sat heavy over his eyes, and she could see the worry and fear still flashing in his gaze from the hours she’d spent writhing in pain as their first baby made his way into the world.

At her first scream he’d burst into the hut and refused to leave, and no matter how many times they reassured him that everything was going normally, he stayed by her side, eyes wide with panic, trying to be a solid, steady strength for her as she squeezed the life out of his hand or arm or leg, whatever was nearer.

And he had been a strength to her. Having him near had made all the difference even if seeing and hearing her go through something so trying that he couldn’t save her from had been taxing.

He was still recovering as much as she was.

“But I want to see. Even if I’m too tired to hold him, he’s my baby.”

She knew she must look frightening, hair a mess, eyes dark and tired, skin pale, voice weak and whispery as all the adrenaline of birth fled her body and left her feeling like a pile of bone and skin and sweat that might never move again, but she had enough in her to see her baby at the very least.

“Hold on.” He said, carefully placing their little one near her on the bedding and then slipping slowly in behind her.

He held her up effortlessly, and when he settled against the wall and arranged her against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat behind her head immediately lulled her into a much warmer, calmer state of mind.

He scooped up the baby and held him in front of them both, allowing her to gaze easily on his sweet little face, his long, curly lashes, his swoop of dark hair, his twitchy little nose.

“Oh…. Look at him,” she sighed, lifting a finger and rubbing the tip along a teeny folded puppy ear. “He’s so perfect, Inuyasha. Look at him. Look what we made.”

“Y-yeah.” He said, and she could hear the catch of tears in his throat, emotion thickening his voice, pride warming his tones.

“I love him. I love him so much. I love you so much.” She murmured, finally feeling the gripping arms of sleep wrapping around her and tugging her down down down into the darkness of slumber and rest.

Inuyasha sniffled behind her, and she felt his lips press into the top of her hair.

Her head lolled back and she glanced up at him, remaining conscious just long enough to see his tears finally fall, to see his careful mask shatter with a sob, to watch him meet her eyes and finally release all the things he’d been bottling up for the sake of being strong.

And it was his voice that followed her down into dreamland, strained with wonder, with awe, bursting with love as he looked away and gazed upon the face of the one gift he’d never dared to dream of.

“Thank you, Kagome.”

#inukag #inukag fic #inukag fanfic #childbirth #cw childbirth #inuyasha/kagome

[loserlovesattention]

Blood of Fire Chapter Three Jacaerys Velaryon x Servant Reader

Chapter Summary: Invited to play with the Princes yet again, You bring Helyn along to enjoy the fun.

Additional Tags: @number-0-iz @akinatrix​

Warnings: None

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem Reader

Gifs:  1) Jacaerys swordplaying (terribly lol)  2) Your best friend and fellow chambermaid Helyn

Chapter 3 

The following day Helyn recovered miraculously, returning to the maiden's chamber practically skipping. 

“Did you miss me terribly?” She asked, throwing herself on to your bed. “I shall admit while I wasted away on the brink of death, it was your sweet sweet memory that kept me alive!”

“That is a shame, I had prayed for The Stranger to take you quickly. Perhaps he couldn’t handle your mouth either.”

She brought her hand over her heart, feigning a hurt expression. 

“My love! Why must you wound me so!”

When she reaches out to pull you into an embrace, you dance out of her grasp. 

“Well, I am glad you are feeling better. Yesterday was very dull without you.” 

“Was it now? From what I hear, you’ve already replaced me with a pair of dashing princes!”

Your mouth drops open from the shock. As far as you knew Helyn had been locked away in complete isolation until this morning, with only a single physician allowed to see her. Even then it was sparingly; to deliver soups and potions. How on Earth did she know already?  

She laughs at your expression. 

“Rule number one about this place; if you do anything out of the ordinary someone will notice. Rule number two; news travels fast here! So tell me Y/N, since when were you and the royal princes so chummy?” 

You roll your eyes at that, returning to your previous task of fastening your stockings in place. Helyn had confirmed that she was ten years old, two years your senior,  so you honestly didn’t know how she managed to stay so immature. Perhaps she was an only child with no siblings to check her? Or maybe she was an orphan starved of attention? It occurred to you then how little you actually knew about her.

“Helyn, who are your parents?”

Her eyes bulged at your question, caught off guard. And for a moment she looks confused, before she smirks, sly as a fox. 

“You’re trying to change the subject, aren't you?”

“No, I’m just-”

“You are!”

She jumps to her feet, pointing. Irritated,you push her arm down.

“No, I'm just curious. You’ve never talked about your parents. Or your siblings. Or where you're from-��

“No, I suppose I haven't…I could tell you my life's tale, if I care to. Only if you tell me what happened!” 

It was only fair, you supposed. If you had been the one who had taken ill, and Helyn was the one playing with the princes, whom she never interacted with before…You would want an explanation as well. Besides, it wasn't like yesterday's events were excitingly scandalous. As Prince Jacaerys explained, the princess had overlooked such breaches in protocol before. And at this point it was almost expected that the young boys should play with other children- regardless of rank. 

“Y/N.”

The firm, cutting voice of Lady Jeyne Waters stops you short.

“Your training is not yet finished, if you recall.”

“Yes ma'am.” 

Before you turn to leave, Helyn fixes you with a look that seems to say: This isn’t over.

                                                          ~*~*~

Your lessons consist of standing for hours on end, pouring countless goblets of wine, and mending holes in several pairs of socks.

If Lady Jeyne disapproved of yesterday's behavior, she doesn’t let it show.

“Now pull your thread all the way through- don’t pull too tight!”

You follow her instructions, carefully, before continuing your criss cross pattern.

“Once you get to the top of the tear, move your stitches closer together.”

When the fabric is connected by the thread, you gently pull the string to close up the hole, and tie it off in a small tight knot. 

“Good, very well done Y/N. Your stitches have vastly improved! Perhaps tomorrow I’ll have you mend one of the princesses skirts.”

You remember those grand, flamboyant black gowns you’ve seen the said princess wearing. With their long trains, scaled fabric and delicate embroidery… You doubted if you would be able to handle it. What if you messed it up?

“Do not worry, you’ll begin small. And sooner than you think, you will be sewing the most magnificent dresses.” 

 She holds up her own work- a long stretch of spectacular blue satin trimmed with silver lace. It reminds you of a peaceful flowing river, a calm open sky and the precious jewels you’ve seen depicted in portraits around the castle. 

“Is that for the princess? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her outside of her house colors.”

Lady Jeyne nods, threading another needle. You can’t help but marvel at how graceful her old hands move. Even when she sews, her fingers seem to dance- light and airy- just above her fabric. Like a dragonfly that skits just above a water’s surface. Someday, you wished you could sew like that.

“Indeed, the princess is a very proud lady who represents her house well. But she always makes an exception for Mother’s Eve. It is her favorite holiday I think. She’s never made such a fuss over Maidens Day or Fathers Feast Day. Not only will there be beautiful gowns, but a grand feast, tournaments, masques and dancing!”

“Truly?” Back home, Mother’s Eve was celebrated in a simple manner. The fishermen and farmers only had to work half the day, while the women spent their hours cooking. If the weather was good enough, neighbors brought their tables and stools outside so the village could celebrate together. Prayer to The Mother Above was given. All the mothers and grandmothers were honored by having the first pick of all the food. Then the feast would end with a great toast to The Mother and the countless blessings she had granted you all. 

“Yes, by then we will have many noble ladies and young gentlemen to watch and serve. Won’t that be exciting?” 

The reminder hits you again. No, you will not wear a pretty gown or dance or give your favor to handsome knights. Just like how you will never swing a sword, ride a dragon or marry a prince. You remembered your mothers voice all those weeks ago; “The Gods made and shaped the Targaryens to rule, we were made and shaped to be ruled.”

The nobles were born and bred to take and enjoy. You were born and bred to make and endure. That was the way of things.

When you finished mending all the socks, Lady Jeyne dismissed you swiftly; now fully absorbed in her needlework.

Of course Helyn was waiting for you outside the chamber.

“How was her majesty today?” You attempt, trying to be polite. 

“She is most well. But last I checked, we were not speaking of her grace this morning.”

There was never ever beating around the bush with Helyn. She always seemed to speak bluntly and to the point, a quality you both liked and disliked. It annoyed you at times like this, but her intentions were pure. She was just genuinely curious- and had every right to be.

You take her arm in yours, as you make your way to your usual playing spot on the South side of the tower. 

“It wasn’t such a big deal as you're making it to be. The two princes simply invited me to play with them because they needed a third player. So we played a couple of chasing games in Aegon's Garden until supper. I haven’t seen or spoken to them since.”

“So they approached you? How?”

You explain the whole tale to her; you venturing into Aegon’s Garden on your own. Discovering Prince Lucerys hiding in a bush whilst playing with his brother. Prince Jacaerys inviting you to their very boring game. You showing them how to play a real game. Princess Rhaenyra interrupting from the balcony. And the two princes running away once the game was over- you winning of course.

“Wait, The Princess saw you? And she wasn’t upset?”

“No, as I said, she just wanted to remind us to finish before supper. Prince Jacaerys explained that they do this all the time. Apparently they played with the serving children often back in King's Landing. There was no one else for them to play with.”

“So you played with them, and didn’t let them win?”

“No…?”

She broke away, exasperated.

“Y/N you can’t just best them! They are your betters! You have to let them win- at everything!”

“I am?” 

When you recalled yesterday's events, the princes didn’t seem too upset at their loss. Jacaerys was irritated to say the least, but bid you a pleasant farwell when he departed. Lucerys was quite cheerful, perhaps that someone bested Jacaerys at something, and was disappointed when they couldn’t play another round.

“Just think of how embarrassed they may feel if others found out a girl had beat them at something. And not just any girl, a serving girl!” 

Surely not. The boys had neither looked or acted embarrassed…Or perhaps they were hiding their shame? Trying to pretend the loss had not affected them so? What if they told their mother? What would the most powerful woman in The Seven Kingdoms do if she felt her sons had been slighted? 

“Oh no…” You bury your head in your hands when the shame rushes up to greet you.

“Shh shh,” Helyn tries to soothe. “I’m sure it is not that bad. Perhaps they forgot it by now. And seeing how you’re still here, the insult was not taken to heart!”

Everything in that moment is so suddenly overwhelming; you begin to cry. You had only been trying to make friends! You had never meant to offend or embarrass anyone! You were lonely, and thought it had all been fun. Oh how wrong and foolish you were!

For a while you do nothing but sob there in Helyns lap, as she tries pitifully to reassure you.   

“Pardon me, Y/N?” 

Your head shoots up at the unfamiliar voice. Before you is a gentleman usher whom you have never seen before. Judging from his fine fitted uniform, he must be of the higher ranking household. 

“Y-yes?”

“Their Royal Highnesses Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys, have requested your presence in The Eastern Courtyard.”

“What for?”

“Swordplay it appears,” He says smiling gently, “They have an assortment of wooden swords and shields with them.” 

You look to Helyn, who appears just as surprised and dazed as you do. 

“Perhaps… They were not offended after all?” You venture.

                                                   ~*~*~

You end up dragging Helyn with you, against all her protests:

“They asked for you, not me! You will offend them!” 

But you do not mind them; “That is what you said earlier! Besides, I can’t leave you out this time. It will be fun!”

You get many queer looks from the passing maids and gentlemen, but you don’t care enough to look. Too excited with the promise of what may come. Far from humiliated, the princes had invited you to swordplay with them! Was this the beginning of a new tradition?

The Eastern Courtyard was quite bare, save for the two young boys trying on their padded doublets. So there would be swordplay! Or some form of hand to hand combat!

You thought of Visenya in her armor, with her Valyrian Steel sword. Once, she too had trained in swordplay on these very grounds! You may never be a Queen like she was, but you had this in common at least. Did she look on with pride or shame at that fact, you wondered.

“Y/N!” Prince Lucerys shouts at your approach.

“Did you hear? Mother has sent for a new Master At Arms for us! He's coming all the way from Pentos!”

Pentos? You couldn’t point to where Pentos specifically was on a map, but you did know it was across The Narrow Sea. 

“Why Pentos?” You ask, “Forgive me, but The Princess could pick anyone from anywhere across The Seven Kingdoms.”

“Six Kingdoms actually,” Prince Jacaerys corrects. “We have yet to conquer Dorne. But Mother says The Pentoshi warriors are not just descendants from The Andals, but The Valyrians as well. Some have also been trained in Braavosi water dancing. So instead of just learning regular fighting techniques we’ll have ‘variety’, whatever that means.”

You bob your head obediently. 

“Then I am very glad, My Prince.”

“You can call us by our nicknames, they are a lot easier to remember!” Prince Lucerys says, making Helyn huff and shake her head.

“And who is this?”

“Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys, this is my friend; Helyn.”

“I’m Luke!” Lucerys bounds over excitedly. “And that’s Jace!”

Stunned, Helyn looks to you, before making a slight curtsy.

“It is an honor to be presented to you… Luke?”

The young Prince nods enthusiastically, before kissing the back of Helyn's hand like how a proper lord would greet a noble lady. She looked discomfited, as well as she might.

This is all still new to her, like it was to me, you remind yourself.

“Well I am glad you brought a friend. Things are better in equal numbers.” Prince Jacaerys, nay, Jace said. “Today we had hoped to test out our new equipment.”

Helyn gasps at that, horrified. 

“You mean to try your swords on us?”

“No, for you to try our swords on us!” Luke explains. “Our shields and armor are new designs- supposed to protect from even the strongest blows! Maester Raff said so!” 

The princes dawn their helms and breastplates, before giving you their blunted swords. 

It's so big, you marvel. Thicker and heavier than the twigs you used to fling around carelessly. In fact, holding it for too long makes your arm tire and shake. 

“Criston Cole used to say the sword needs to be your arm.” Luke instructed you, “You never drop or tire from swinging your arm!” 

“Alright. Hit me!” Jace commands.

You and Helyn share a look, before you swing the sword down hesitantly. When it connects, it practically bounces off of Jace’s chest making a loud hollow sound. 

“You call that a blow? Try again!” He booms.

                                                        ~*~*~

So you swing, hurl, stab and poke at him until your arm gives out from exhaustion. Helyn does the same with Luke, in a nervous, subdued way. Regardless, neither of you succeed in knocking the boys down. 

This quickly turns into the princes facing each other, attempting to accomplish the same feat. You cheer Luke on, telling him to aim low- use his height to his advantage! Helyn, more at ease, cheers for Jace. Encouraging him to use his strength and endurance. 

This goes on for quite some time, until Luke finally falls, Jace's sword at his throat. 

“I yield!” Luke calls, breathless. 

“Let’s do something fun now!” You suggest, picking up Lukes discarded sword from the ground. The weight is not so bad now, that you’ve let your arm rest a while.

“Such as?” Helyn asks, warily. 

“Aegon and his Queens!” You say, “Queen Visenya rode a dragon, and wielded a sword!” You brandish the blade as opulently as you can. 

“Yes!” Luke roars, practically jumping up from the dirt. 

“But there are four of us!” Jace protests, “Who is Lucerys supposed to be?”

“I want to be Aegon!” The younger boy whines. 

The two boys argue back and forth, while you move closer to converse with Helyn.

“You don’t have to play if you don’t want to. You can always watch or-”

“And forfeit playing Queen Rhaenys? Fat chance! She was no warrior like Visenya, but she was still a Queen in her own right, and rode a dragon! Besides, I have no interest in combat.” 

You reach forward to squeeze her hand. I’m glad you’re included, you want to say.

“But you are always Aegon, or Prince Aemon, or Durran Godsgrief!” Luke protests, “I want to be the hero for once!”

“And you can!” Helyn announces, “Lucerys will be Aegon The Conqueror. Y/N will be Queen Visenya. I will be Queen Rhaenys. And Jacaerys can be Orys Baratheon!”

Orys Baratheon? Of course you knew the name Baratheon, they were the Lords of Storms End just West of here. You knew they had Targaryen roots… Perhaps Orys was that very Targaryen ancestor? When you recalled those bedtime stories about the conquerors, your mother made no mention of him… Or perhaps she had, and you just blocked it out. Too hyper focused on your role model Queen Visenya. 

“He was a fine, distinguished warrior.” Helyn supplied, “Who defeated The Storm King Argilac! Without him The Targaryens would have never taken The Stormlands!”

For a moment, Jace ponders this. Before sighing and nodding reluctantly. 

And thus the game begins, you and Helyn kneeling at Lukes feet;

“My dearest brother and King,” Helyn starts. “The Seven Kingdoms are ours and ripe for the taking. Where shall we begin?” 

Luke gapes at you two briefly, before gaining his composure and squaring his shoulders. 

“Sweet sisters, I am deeply moved that you grant me this great honor of being your King. And I swear to you, The Gods as my witnesses, that I will honor your trust, loyalty and devotion. You shall look back on this moment with great pride!” 

Behind you, Jace scoffs. 

You stand and turn to face him. 

“Baratheon, you should kneel before your king!” It is like you can feel the long dead Queen within you, filling you up with courage. “Unless, you would call yourself a turncloak?” You reach for the hilt of your sword, remembering all of Jace's previous movements. He was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster than him. If he made to hit you, you could easily dodge and aim low-

Grudgingly, Jace lowers himself to his knees. 

“You may rise my dearest family!” Luke directed.

“For I will need you on your feet when we attack! We shall all land at the mouth of the Blackwater River, and conquer all the lands there! The highlords will fight us, but they stand no chance against our might! Visenya shall ride Vhagar, Rhaenys shall mount Meraxes, and Orys will command our troops!”

The three of you then run about roaring, growling and shrieking- imagining waves and waves of armored soldiers burning below you. Jacaerys swings his sword back and forth against one of the practice dummies found in the yard, before knocking it down onto its side. 

“Victory!” He cries. “The land is yours My King!”

Luke immediately comes to a halt, dropping his arms back to his sides.

“Y-yes. It would appear so.” 

When it is clear he is at a loss for what to do next, Helyn takes the lead yet again. 

“Well, a proper King should have a proper coronation! Visenya, if you please.”

Your mothers voice came to you again, an echo from the past; “And there In the Aegonfort, in front of their new subjects, Visenya placed a crown on Aegon's head and Rhaenys proclaimed him King of all of Westeros.”

Of course you did not have a crown on you, nor the resources to get one yourself… So yet again you use your leather belt; fastening it tight around Luke's head. 

“All hail Aegon, First of His Name, King of All Westeros and The Shield of His People!” Helyn cried out, before kneeling once again. You and Jace kneel as well chanting; “All hail King Aegon!”

Night was falling already. A number of servants had just come to light the torches. Soon this must end, you realized, and the princes would retire to their royal apartments. While Helyn and you would return to the Maiden's chamber to begin the day all over again.

But we still have a little time… 

You jump to your feet, waving the practice sword above your head.

“You may call yourself King brother, but we still have Six Kingdoms to claim! Where to next?”

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #jacaerys strong #jacaerys valaryon x reader #self insert #fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon #servant reader #commoner reader #class differences #childhood friends #friends to lovers

[a-boca-do-inferno]

good girl (john milton x reader) [request]

summary: He was obviously, impertinently handsome, and you were pretty sure it only made him more dangerous.

warnings: light smut, dubcon-ish

words: 1.2k

notes: heads up: dubcon warning is annoyingly subjective and up to your interpretation im sorry. i mean the guy is literally the devil what else could i do lol anyways. its a bit confusing but nsfw so im excused <3 enjoy!

You blinked once, trying to grasp what was going on. Suddenly everything around you was blurry and big, dark orbs were all you could see, piercing through your soul as they scanned you up and down. You felt long, thick fingers travel to the hem of your skirt, threatening to get under it. As John took a step closer, wetness greeted your underwear and you blushed terribly. His scent was strong, intoxicating, like some sort of pheromone. It pushed you to the edge, literally; causing you to stumble backwards slightly, leaning against the table behind you both.  

“Careful there, sweetheart”, he coos and you let your eyes fall shut, feeling overwhelmed by his tight grip on your body. John smirks, noticing his striking effect on you. “You like that, huh?”

Your flustered cheeks get even hotter. “Hmm, yes...”, it’s all you can master with words. 

The air was getting into your lungs with some difficulty now, as your breathing cut off at the smallest movement of his fingertips on your skin. You opened your eyes again and suddenly the whole room was dim with only his figure visible to you, as if a spotlight was pointed at him from above. You felt somewhat dizzy and the heat on your face grew stronger by the minute, enough to form the sweat dripping off your neck. Despite your confounded state, you lifted your hand to try and clean it, but John caught your wrist mid-air, going at the salty liquid to lick it off, his cold tongue causing your hairs to stand on end.  

You blinked shocked and aroused, pressing your lips when he made a trail with his tongue all the way up to your jaw, biting at it for good measure. His calloused hands went up to cup your breasts next, squeezing them ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help but blurt out a loud moan. He let out a deep, satisfied chuckle at your response, putting you closer to him so your mouths were almost brushing against one another.  

“Good girl”, he mocked, slowly unbuttoning your shirt.  

“(y/n), will you take this to Kevin?”, you jumped a little when your coworker approached your desk, handing you an envelope. You stared at her with a light blush on your face, trying to forget the torrid thoughts you were having just then. With a nod, you took the document, already getting up from your seat. She looked sternly at you, “don’t take too long, we have another case in a few hours.”  

“Alright.” 

Taking a deep breath, you made your way to Kevin’s office, hugging the document against you protectively. It was only your second month working for Milton, Chadwick & Waters, so you couldn’t deny you still felt a little nervous from time to time. You were competent and did your work very well, however, because of the huge prestige the company held, you couldn’t help but feel a bit inadequate in that environment.  

Maybe it was due to your humble roots, as you had to struggle and really persist to follow into the law career; all you knew is that you’d probably be forever grateful for John Milton’s faith in your skills. As a young attorney with little experience, you were used to big law firms’ rejection, despite your flawless record, so of course getting this job was a pleasant surprise. High pressure as well, sure, but you could get used to it, too. You’d already been through much worse, arguably. 

“Come in, (y/n)”, Kevin waves at your head peeking out the door. He is talking to someone on the telephone, but his eyes are on you for the rest of his conversation. “Okay, we can talk about that in person. I can’t really understand anything you’re saying right now. Talk to my secretary and she’ll schedule you. Bye”, he puts the phone down, then points to the envelope still pressed close to your chest. He smiles a bit, “is that for me?” 

“Yes, sorry”, you come to him, feeling embarrassed at your sheepish behaviour. Something about the men in this place just got you really uneasy and self-conscious, you didn’t quite know why. “Here you go”, you hand him the document. 

“Thank you.”  

You turned to leave, walking back to your own office. The giant windows to your side caught your eye and you contemplated the great view of New York City, completely immersed in your thoughts. When you stared ahead again, your steps came to a screeching halt before you almost bumped into John Milton. His shoulder still briefly made contact with yours, making him stop in his own tracks to take a look at you with his signature charming smirk.  

“You look spooked there, sweetheart”, he states visibly amused, holding you by the shoulders in a surprisingly gentle manner. His warm gaze hovered your features intently for a moment as he continued, “you okay?” 

“Yeah!”, you replied instantly, a little taken aback by the kindness in his tone. He wasn’t exactly cold with you, but that was probably the first time he ever actually acknowledged your existence after hiring you. With a shy smile, you added, “I’m sorry. I’ve just been a bit distracted lately, it seems.” 

“Oh, forget it”, he waved dismissively, patting at your arms afterwards. “Just be careful not to trip and fall, you never know who may be around to catch you”, his voice sounded light-hearted, yet the look in his eyes was strangely malicious.  

Sly.  

It was somewhat disturbing. Underneath all the charisma, John often came off as borderline haunting to you, even though you’d only really held a conversation with him twice. You just couldn’t help but feel a slight shiver whenever he was around, as if his presence itself changed the whole atmosphere. He had a dense, intense personality. You supposed that came with money and power, although you couldn’t imagine John Milton any other way, even when — or if ever — he was poor.  

Perhaps men like him simply had this frighteningly authority about them, you mused to yourself, choosing to believe it wasn’t anything orchestrated on his part. He was never offensive or unpleasant with you or anyone else, it seemed, as everyone in the firm loved him, so maybe it was nothing but a misconception of yours. Still, you shuddered under his almost forceful glance, deep brown eyes as dark as they ever were. Adding to his magnetism, he was also obviously, impertinently handsome, and you were pretty sure it only made him more dangerous.  

You couldn’t avoid the heat on your face at these observations, immediately staring at the floor to escape his engulfing presence. Suddenly your whole body was boiling hot and his touch somehow burned at your skin as his hands remained on your shoulders, a sudden urge of arousal coming over you at that simple contact.  

“I...”, you gulped, smiling sheepishly as you got out of his grasp. If John noticed your silent distancing, he either didn’t care or didn’t show it, remaining with his agonizingly constant stare at your every movement. You cleared your throat, finally regaining your posture. “I better go now, still have some work for the day.” 

“Don’t let me stop you”, he hums, going to the side to make way for you to pass, and you only nod in response. As you took the first step to walk off, John whispered close to your ear, “good girl.” 

#the devil's advocate #the devil's advocate x reader #john milton #john milton x reader #al pacino x reader #al pacino imagine #al pacino

[bluiex]

☾ anon here again, i couldn't resist lol. one shot be upon ye ______

Scar missed when life was simple. When sunlight wasn't the only thing kissing his skin, when the warmth of another person was always within reach. He missed the rush of a good hunt, catching his prey with his favorite people in the world, the satisfaction of another malevolent spirit banished from the earth.

Now he was the hunted, and by all accounts he should hate it. The greying look to his skin, the piercing scarlet in his eyes, the hunger that was ever-present.

So why was it that when his loves chased after him, close on his heel adorned in deadly rosaries and silver jewels, was it so much fun?

Even now, from where he was held down by the force of piddly chains against his wrists and a wooden stake dangerously close to his vampiric heart, all Scar could do was grin and catch his breath, gazing up at Grian with such a love struck look the other could hardly stand to see anymore.

Scar was obsessed with their game, the big bad wolf hiding in the shadows, waiting for his little red to come seek him out. They danced around each other, Grian always with his face curled in false contempt, Scar blowing kisses and letting himself be pushed around.

How strange that Grian was angry with him when it was his fault Scar was turned in the first place. But that was ancient history in his eyes. Maybe it was the forgiveness that drove Grian's urge to kill him, to reject his kindness and finally put him to rest.

Grian was always stubborn that way, it was why Scar couldn't help but wind him up, and this latest capture intrigued him the most. Scar thought it was all fun and games, that they were still playing. Funny, what a moment of immortality makes you forget.

Because Grian wasn't smiling, but he wasn't scowling either. His hands trembled, as though in real consideration of plunging the stake clean through Scar's chest. His eyes were pinched shut, and Scar could see Grian's favorite chain, silver like all else, but with a golden cross pendant, slip past his collar and dangle over him.

It was Scar's chain, once upon a time. And in that moment, the pieces fell together.

Grian muttered an endless prayer, to some deity or higher being, someone, anyone, to make him end the chase. Helplessness, a feeling Scar had nearly forgotten, bubbled up in his chest. Arms pinned, Grian straddled over him, stake pricking at his chest, there was no escape here.

"I… I can't," Grian mumbled, stake still pressed against Scar's shirtfront. He opened his eyes, scanning across Scar's face. For what, he had no idea. "I can't do it. But, but I'm going to. I'm going to do it, I have to do it, I have to—"

"What's wrong, birdie?" Scar asked softly, his own smug pretenses falling away as he craned his head up an inch to be closer.

"Don't call me that," Grian hissed, pressing the stake in harder, and Scar winced. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

"…I've always wondered what it'd be like to have you on top. Guess this is one way to find out," Scar teased quietly, the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips when the other blushed, retracting the stake.

"Scar! What is wrong with you," Grian groaned, looking away to save face. "Why— this isn't— I'm killing you, and that's that! You don't get to run away this time," he declared, his grip on the stake wavering.

"You know I've never tried to run from you," Scar murmured. "You have a bad habit of looking the other way."

"You— well, I— not this time!" He insisted, turning back to look him dead in the eyes. Scar could see pinpricks of tears in Grian's, and he let out a sigh.

"It's okay, birdie," Scar said, pulling himself as far up as he could, still heavily limited by the silver weighing him down. "You've done a wonderful job so far. We can stop now, and run around again tomorrow, hm?"

Grian's eyes watered, and with a gentle yet firm hand, pushed Scar back down, palm pressed flat against his collarbone. "I can't. I can't let you get away. Not again," he whispered, shifting his fingers over to where Scar's heartbeat should have been.

His chest was cold. Undead. Grian would do almost anything to feel the other's warmth again.

"You're not my Scar," Grian settled on, eyes cast downwards. "You're not him, you're something else, a creature of the night, you're not…"

"Well hey," Scar frowned, "that's just not true." He pouted, and for a moment Grian's heart wavered.

"Just because I got bit, doesn't mean I'm evil. I thought we were the good guys, saving the town from darkness… but there's so much we don't know. That I didn't know."

He pulled himself up yet again, and Grian kept his hand light against the other's chest. "Just because I'm a vampire, that doesn't mean I'm a monster."

The sound of wood clattered against the floor; the stake was dropped. Scar's eyes followed the noise at first, only to be distracted by Grian's hands cupping his face, and once more, a nearly forgotten feeling was remembered.

Grian's thumb light against his cheek, the want in his eyes, even from where he laid trapped. Scar craned his neck as close as he could, a whisper away from the other's lips, and god how he had missed him. Missed this.

"I want you back," Grian mumbled against Scar's lips, a fraction too far to make full contact. "All of you, I want what we had. But I can't save you anymore. I couldn't save you then either…"

"We could have something new," Scar breathed in return. "Somewhere they'll never find us." Scar's eyes were foggy and distant, and Grian could see his fangs start to unsheathe on their own.

"You, me, and Mumbo, we'll run away," Scar said, and Grian couldn't remember a time the other was ever this pliant. For a vampire, he was surprisingly giving.

"I… I can't promise for Mumbo," Grian sighed, trying to figure out a way to turn Scar down for himself too. But there was something stirring within himself the longer he stared, and strangely, he knew it was no magic Scar was conducting to trick him.

Maybe it was the loneliness, a bed for three that was missing one.

"But—" Grian's hesitation only made Scar more desperate, nipping at the his jaw, the only thing within reach. A passing thought derailed his point, that Scar's fangs were terribly pretty to look at, and Grian wondered how they would feel somewhere else—

Not now. Later, absolutely later. "But I can. Just, not here, alright?"

Scar's eyes widened. "Do you mean…?"

Grian dragged his thumb against Scar's bottom lip, tugging his jaw open. The vampire did so without a second thought, and felt the drag of skin against one of his fangs. It took every ounce of Scar's self restraint not to bite him then and there.

"Soon," Grian whispered, floating his hand away and finally, finally closing the space between them, a long overdue kiss. If it weren't for the silver, Scar wouldn't have let Grian slip away, but alas. He did say 'soon', after all.

Somewhere during the kiss, or perhaps after, Scar couldn't tell with his mind so foggy, the chains had been sneaked away, and he could finally sit up. Grian was already perched on the windowsill, a moment's away from slipping off into the night.

"And, for the record," Grian said, a mischievous grin, worn down but still bright decorated his face, "I wouldn't mind getting pushed around a bit more for a change."

Before Scar could catch his brain up to his mouth, Grian vanished, heart pounding and a rosy brightness in his cheeks.

This was going to be fun. ______ im also incredibly tempted to write the scene of scar turning grian but who knows lmao

-☾

FFFFF THANKS FOR THIS DELICIOUS MEAL

Bruh dude please please write more!!! And and put it on ao3 because my god i love this and your writing so much. And vampire Scar turning Grian (and eventually mumbo maybe?) would b so fun to read AAAAA

#bluie gets an ask poggers #long post #vampire scar #vampire hunter au #mumscarian #scarian

[dibbiedabbiedoobie]

Mint

Another one based on a voretober prompt -- 2021 this time, Mint. Set in the same ‘verse as Caught Red-Handed, but like... nebulously after that fic. So not a direct sequel, more just placed vaguely in that world. I’ll probably work on a proper sequel at some point, but rn I’m just off loading a bunch of stuff lol. This is also based on a real dream I had! It was wild but very comfy and nice. I think I woke up before the actual vore, sadly, but I do remember waking up feeling very comfy and loved so I suppose it wasn’t all bad.

Word Count: 891 Fandom: In/cep/tion Tags: safe vore, willing prey, willing pred, small bit of foodplay, fluff, pred!arthur Summary: Arthur wakes you up for a midnight snack.

You're still not quite sure how you ended up here. Arthur woke you up at some ungodly hour in the morning, asking something about mint that you don't remember. You'd been barely awake and had just nodded so he'd let you go back to sleep. In hindsight, that was probably intentional. You shift, just a bit. There's no comfortable way to lay on the jello you've found yourself on. It's a bright blue, translucent. You suppose the fact that it's broke up into cubes beneath you don't help with comfort. You aren't sure of the flavor, but you're half-tempted to try. You're considering it until Arthur walks back into the room, catching your attention. He has a spoon in hand and a shit-eating smirk on his face. You glare at him, but it's half-hearted at best. You generally can't bring yourself to care that much about these things anymore. It's far too early, and you want to sleep. His stomach seems softer and comfier than laying on blocks of jello. "Are you alright?" he asks, in the way he always does. It's a genuine question, making sure you're okay. He always makes sure to ask regularly, especially before he swallows you. It's the polite part of "polite little shit" shining through, and you really do appreciate it. "'m fine," you interrupt yourself with a yawn. You'd thought you were a little more awake now, but maybe not. "Just... hurry up. Sleepy." Arthur snorts. "Well then. I was going to try the jello, but if you're so insistent..." He sets the spoon aside, then gently picks you up by your sides with his index finger and thumb. "Wait!" you shout, and he pauses, concern written all over his face. "I'm fine," you assure him. "Just... lemme taste it." His expression eases, going from worry to amusement. He carefully turns you over, holds you close enough to grab a small piece from a corner. As you put it in your mouth, he turns you back over. "Any good?" "It tastes like shit." You stick your tongue out, nose wrinkled. "Mint? Really?" "I didn't chose it," chuckles Arthur. "Dom bought the wrong one. I figured I might as well get some use from it." "If you'd wanted a taste tester, there were easier ways to get them." "Maybe, but very few can be a stand-in treat." He lifts you closer to his face, then pauses; waiting for confirmation. Biting back another yawn, you just nod. Arthur opens his mouth, tipping his head a bit, before he carefully begins to lower you inside. Hot and muggy rises up your legs, and his tongue rises up to cushion you. It's firm, but slimy, and wraps around your body as he pushes you further inside. It's all a familiar song and dance, and you relax into it. His lips close gently around your chest, his fingers carefully supporting your back as he gets a good taste of you. He hums, contented, but doesn't dwaddle. Flicking his head back properly, he loosens his jaw and swallows thickly. It drags you down quickly, sends you squishing into his throat up to your hips. Scrunching his face, he gulps again, pulling you properly into his gullet. You're a little bigger than he expects sometimes. He brushes his fingers against his neck, feeling the bulge you make as you trudge deeper into his core. He always did like that, being able to track you through his body. Knowing where you were, even inside him, makes him feel more comfortable about your safety; granted, there weren't very many places for you to be in his body, but he likes it anyways. Once you're beneath his collarbone, he wipes his mouth of drool. He'd liked your flavor, but the hint of mint had been a delectable improvement. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd try to do it a bit more often. There's a pressure in his chest, and then you squeeze down into his stomach. It gurgles a greeting, churning at you eagerly. You suppose it has been a bit since dinner. "Are you okay?" Arthur's voice rumbles around you, low but clear. "Fine, Arthur," you reply. You squirm, settling into the gentle curve of his belly. "Good. Let me know if that changes, okay?" "Mhm." You don't expect him to hear you, but that's okay. This is part of the song and dance, too: making sure that you're okay, that you know you can leave any time. It's familiar and appreciated, but common enough that you both know that there's no real problem. Arthur's stomach churns at you more, soaking you in even more spit and fluid. You don't mind, though. It's warm in his tummy, and soft. A better bed than the one outside. You're used to it trying to process you by now, and you know it won't hurt you. You can feel Arthur stroking at you gently outside. He probably isn't trying to coax you to sleep, but that's the effect. With everything so soothing, your body is quite aware that it's Too Damn Early in the morning, and there's a lot of sleep to be had. You settle, then give a soft pet to the nearest wall. "G'night," you murmur, far too quiet to hear. You let your eyes close, and then you're asleep.

#dibbiewrites #safe vore #nonfatal vore #endosoma #extreme cuddling #v.ore #v0re #in/cep/tion #voreception #soft vore #unwilling prey #willing pred #fluff

[holy-blood-unholy-skin]

Don't think about how after the war is done and Borea finally - FINALLY - gets through whatever dipshit thing that Kronos did to the Empire State's elevator to stop people from getting to the 600th floor (I remember a force field I can't remember anything else but)

Don't think of Borea's reaction to finally finding out whether Percy is alive (and the war is done, and Kronos is gone, and this boy will either live or die by Zeus's hand now) or dead (and Kronos is alive, and Borea will kill him - making her also perhaps a child of prophecy because she's a "child of the elder gods" but also she isn't 16 so maybe not child of prophecy but whatever)

Don't think of her screaming (like a guttural cry of desperation which turns to hope when she sees his breathing body) - "perseus!" - because this boy is as much hers as he is Poseidon's - more so hers than his, because she's as much a mother to this boy (okay, fine, a motherly aunt - a second mother if you will) as Sally was

And just

Don't think of the way she grabs his body and pulls him in for a hug (lol imagine if percy didn't know it was her and upon reflex stabbed and kill her lolllllll)

Don't think of the way she holds him so tight, refusing to let him go like how a clamshell shuts its mouth - refusing to let any harm come to the pearl that lays beneath its bed (I'm crying)

And

Don't think of how she pulls back (not caring that percy can't breathe because shut up I couldn't breathe while.you were up here, ALONE, and I still made it you dramatic ass), and holds his face, hands on either side of his face, looking into his eyes because, "Are you hurt?" And "let me see" because she knows the scars he will bare from this day on will only show itself in his soul...

And also - don't think of how Poseidon, this hero's father, stands back, not wanting to interrupt because he knows that this is the exact way Sally would act if she knew the whole truth of the prophecy (that Perseus was going to die at the end of it - but no, he's okay, he's alive now, her baby boy, their baby boy is alive and well - as well as the situation could call for)

And Borea can't hold herself back anymore from calling him her child, because she sees the emotions he feels, she knows all too well the hurt he holds in his heart, especially as he says, "Luke's dead -" and when Borea hears that, she pushes all care for anyone in the world out to one corner, and focuses on the thing that kept her sanity - that held her mind together when she was contemplating just letting it all go and wreak havoc - so that she may be put to an end.

Borea only focuses on one thing, Percy, her baby boy, as she let's her tears fall before she pulls him in a hug - holding his head in the gentle but firm way she held his head and supported it when he was a child and couldn't do it on his own. "My baby boy, my son, my son." Because she doesn't speak for her own emotions, only - she speaks for Sally's - oh, Sally, who didn't know a drop of the prophecy, only that Percy needed her blessing to do an extremely dangerous task (see" the Styx), and okay yeah, Poseidon too, who would have left his duties as ruler of the sea, just to spend a mortal's life with Sally and Percy... if not for Zeus, and his penchant of killing people his brothers care about... for the sake of it.

Oh poor Poseidon - who respected Borea for what she did (being a "father" to his son, and protecting him the best she could, in ways that Sally, nor he, could) - he's just standing off to the back, not wanting to take away the reprieve his son gives her (because she's been carrying the weight of the prophecy and it's meaning on her head the minute Poseidon fell for Sally) - and now, that weight can be gone, because it's over.

But Poseidon comes over, only once he's seen she's collected herself - but she doesn't move from Percy, still holding him, she turns to face Poseidon, leaving little but enough space for him to regard his son.

And when he begins to do so, Borea slowly, but surely, relaxes - she doesn't leave Percy's hand, not even as Poseidon places a hand on his shoulder (and I suppose it's in this moment, that whichever god sees their interaction and behaviour and dynamic with each other and this boy, realise just how much he is loved - and also creates the maddening thought that Borea may just be Percy's parent - let it be his second (in place of Sally, because they've never seen Poseidon regard a mortal or half-blood with the patience he has with Borea), or third (including both, Percy and Poseidon)

Just

Don't think of it