#but I wanted to for this bc. y’know. obviously

[what-the-fuck-khr]

what-the-fuck-khr’s most popular sky is tsunayoshi! he won with 38.6% out of 10 characters!

[ghoulbats]

whenever a regular mutual/follower isn’t around i feel like making posts asking where they are and being generally whiney and then i remember we’ve barely (if ever) talked and that’d probably be weird

[gaylotusthatexists]

every now and then i consider changing my pronouns to any/all but i’ve yet to figure out whether that’s bc i genuinely like all the pronouns or if it’s just so i don’t get as upset when people use she/her on me.

[plutolovesyou]

Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭

before you read!!

☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.

◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.

One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.

The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.

Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.

She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.

Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.

You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”

She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”

Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.

It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”

You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.

The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.

“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.

“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.

You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!

She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.

Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”

You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.

It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.

“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”

She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.

“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”

To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.

This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.

"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”

[sickgraymeat]

when we agree on smth for once 😩

[osaemu]

WHEN YOU'RE SICK: STREAMER!GOJO

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you have a cold, and he has a bag of sweets—how does your streamer boyfriend comfort you when you're sick? (streamer!au)

contents: fem!reader. fluff. pet names. very self-indulgent bc i'm sick right now and needed this for myself :,) can mostly be read outside of the streamer!au i guess.

“i brought you some sweets!”

you look up drowsily when your boyfriend’s familiar voice pulls you out of your sleep. your eyes slowly adjust to the soft lighting of your room and to the perfect, sharp features of the face inches from yours. “satoru, how are you here—”

he cuts you off by pressing a finger to your lips, and a moment later, satoru slips some sort of candy into your mouth. “‘cause you’re sick, and i’m a good boyfriend. obviously,” he teases, smiling endearingly when your eyes light up from the sugary taste of whatever satoru gave you. “how’d you catch a cold, anyways?”

you sit up a little bit, resting your back against the headboard and your head on satoru’s shoulder. “i’m not actually sure,” you admit, snuggling into the arm that wraps itself around you.  “aw, you’re wearing the hoodie i got you,” you point out, tapping on his chest. it’s a small inside joke between the two of you—the logo on the top left of the hoodie is the one from the streamer inmaki’s channel, a user who has a long-standing reputation for being one of your boyfriend’s haters.

“only because i practically ran out of the house once i got your text,” satoru huffs, rolling his blue eyes good-naturedly. he notices the little smile on your face and the way you cover your mouth in an attempt to hide your laugh, so he pulls out his phone from his pocket and adds, “hey, what was i supposed to do when i get a message like this?”

random girl i guess i like: can u come over :( i’m sick and imy

“why’d you change my contact to ‘random girl i guess i like?’” you gasp dramatically, snatching satoru’s phone away from him. a nervous laugh slips out of your boyfriend’s lips before you turn on him, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. “if i looked at suguru’s contact, what would i see next?”

“...you don’t wanna know.”

“satoru gojo, answer me or i swear—” you don’t get to finish your threat before a sneeze cuts you off, followed by two more that leave you deflated in satoru’s arms. somehow, your head slides down from his shoulder and ends up on his chest, and a look of concern overtakes satoru’s expression.

“how sick are you?” he asks tentatively, fishing out another candy from his pocket and prodding at your lips with it. you open your mouth and let him feed you, taking a second to relish the sweetness of the sugar-loaded bite before you shrug and sniffle again. “poor thing,” satoru coos, rounding his eyes down at you while you rub your nose to get rid of the subtle itching sensation. 

“i can’t stop sniffling,” you mumble dryly, staring up at satoru pathetically. it’s as if you’re a wet cat that’s been sitting in the rain for hours, and as if he’s the kind old man who takes you in and dries you off. satoru’s slender fingers thread themselves through your dishelved hair, stroking it and twining it around his hand. “s’ been like this for hou— no, days,” you continue, determined to complain for at least the next couple minutes. “and—”

satoru’s hands move from the top of your head to your cheeks, cupping them intensely enough to hold your face still as he leans down and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. you make a small sound in protest, not wanting to get him sick too, but he ignores you and peppers feather-like kisses all over your face. “you’re so cute like this, y’know?” he murmurs, squishing your face in between his hands. “all rumpled and bedhead-y, aww.”

“satoru, you’ll get sick,” you point out, futilely trying to lean away from his lips when he goes back in for a kiss again. “satoru!”

“i don’t care,” he grumbles, swatting away your hand when you try to pull on the strings of his hoodie. “you’re my girlfriend, and if i wanna kiss you, then i will. and i don’t care if i get sick, ‘cause i have a pretty girl to take care of me anyways, don’t i?”

you stop protesting and let him press his lips back to yours again, and even though you sniffle again about three times, satoru’s as devoted to you as ever. “really?”

“yeah. my mom— ow, i mean, you too!” he adds quickly, grinning playfully even when you swat his chest. “i’m joking, i’m joking. have some candy, sweet girl.” before you can say anything, satoru shoves a handful of bright, colorful sweets in your mouth and kisses your nose. “take a nap. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

somehow, the moment you hear satoru’s murmured reassurances, your eyes grow heavy and you surrender yourself to his grip. “m’kay…” you mumble, closing your eyes and exhaling softly. and maybe it’s your imagination, but you swear you can feel satoru’s suppressed laughter as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. 

… 

“wait, now what do i do?”

[glorixuspurpose]

Newbie

Spencer Reid x Black!Fem!Reader Synopsis: Reader is new to the BAU and discovers that she has similar qualities to another coworker…

A/N: This is based off that one Spencer Reid fic that was basically the same concept but I can’t remember the exact name 😔 + I kinda had early seasons Reid in mind for this but it really goes for any season

 “Did you hear about the new kid?” Penelope asked, making her way over to JJ’s desk. 

“New kid?” She questioned. 

“Well, y’know. She’s around Reid’s age, and I heard that she’s practically just like him. Besides some physical differences.” She explained. 

“Oh yeah, I saw. It’s pretty weird.” Elle told them. 

“Wait, shh! Here she comes now!” Penelope whisper shouted as you made your way over to them. 

 “Um, do you guys know where Hotchner’s office is?” You asked them awkwardly, making them glance at each other, obviously entertained. 

“Yeah, but he’s in a meeting right now.” Penelope lied. 

“Oh…” You said, before quickly glancing at Penelope’s shirt, which was littered with cartoon cats. “Do you like cats?” You asked her, still looking at her shirt, causing her to raise an eyebrow. 

“Yeah…why?” 

“Did you know that most cats are actually lactose intolerant? Some can love milk, but most are. Plus, cats can’t taste anything sweet.” You informed, holding up your index finger.

 The three women looked at each other in amusement. “Really?” You nodded.

“Also, did you know that the first black female FBI agent was Sylvia Elizabeth Mathis? I know that fact technically only applies to me, but…interesting factoid I guess..” You rambled. 

“It’s worse than we thought…” Penelope whispered. “What is?” You asked, worried.

“You know, I think there’s someone that you’d get along pretty well with…” JJ suggested. 

“Really? Who?” 

“Reid!” The three of them called, making a tall and slender young man come rushing to JJ’s desk. 

 “New initiative.” Penelope said.

“You two have…a lot in common.” JJ finished.  

You hold your hand out for him to shake, and he does as such. 

“Nice to meet you…”

“Y/N.” You finished. “Did you know that the earliest depiction of a handshake was from an ancient Assyrian relief from-”

“9th Century BC? I know.” Spencer finished.

“Well…shucks. I’m not exactly used to not being the smartest.” 

 “You can be the smartest female! I’m willing to give up my title..” Penelope half-joked, making you chuckle. 

“That’d be nice.” 

“Well, Reid? Why don’t you show the young lady around?” 

“Sure.” He replied, motioning for you to follow him. 

You two had barely left the spot when Hotchner emerged from his office. 

“Reid,” He called, making both of you stop in your tracks. “I see you’ve beaten me to welcoming our new kid.” He said smiling. 

“Sorry sir,” Reid sheepishly apologized. “If you want, I can-”

“No no, I think you’ve got it.” He told him with a wink. 

[mangosundae]

Wow I’ve had this account for like three years and I’m finally posting art. Yeah anyway I’m late to the party because I couldn’t come up with designs I liked but here are my Hazbin Hotel redesigns! Please note that these are just for fun; I’m not trying to be animator-friendly, I don’t think my designs are objectively better than Vivzie’s, and I don’t even think they’re that good in general. I’m just seeing how I personally would draw these characters.

Design notes under the cut! (so long as I did this right lmao)

Charlie: Tbh I don’t have much to say about her except that I wanted her to stand out the most, so I gave her the brightest colors. I also gave her more of an apple body shape because she’s the apple of her dad’s eye, lol.

Vaggie: Okay listen. I KNOW she’s not actually a moth demon, but the chest fluff was fun. Plus, in my version of the show, it takes longer for her to meet Charlie, so she puts together a demon disguise. I’m imagining a scene where her chest fluff is off and Charlie comes into the room like “???” and Vaggie’s like “Uhhhhhhh I shaved.” Plus I gave her her pastels from the pilot because man I loved her pastels.

Angel: Basically, I don’t know how to read. I thought jumping spiders have four eyes, but it’s actually four PAIRS of eyes, so. Just pretend the other ones are closed all the time. I also gave him more of his mobster aesthetic back bc I love his little fedora. I demand more time with Angel in a fedora.

Niffty: Yeah I KNOW she’s from the fifty’s but then I remembered Niffty’s supposed to be a bug, and beehives were a hairstyle in the 60s, so. There ya go. She can still have that housewife aesthetic though so it’s fine. Also she calls people “hun” and is generally a “busy bee.” Also she has a hidden stinger and might secretly be a wasp.

Alastor: First and foremost got rid of that FUCKASS BOB LMAO. I’m so sorry, I do love the bob but I can’t take him seriously. I also (hopefully) made him more obviously a POC, and gave him a more gray/brown color pallet because, y’know, the 30s. Also hooves.

Husk: He’s not here because I’d do the same design as everyone else. Husk has a beer belly change my mind.

[lunasblunt]

what is and what should never be

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

SFW!!!!! pt.2

pairing: logan howlett x original female!mutant character

PT.2 TO BARRACUDA

summary: terra, a mutant with the ability to manipulate earthly elements, and grow plants/flowers from her palms, finds herself incredibly fed up with logan as they’re forced to to train together.

suggested song: what is and what should never be by led zeppelin the back and forth between soft/calm and loud/heavy do u get it… i hope u get it…. yeah……

CW: nothing too crazy she just wants bro so bad tbh… slight nsfw thoughts? idk it’s a sfw fic so it’s definitely not too dirty

A/N: i will always love hugh jackman. can’t even pretend like i’m mad abt the hype bc the edits are SO GOOD. alsoooo requests are always open i’d love some prompts :3 that’s all ;D

reply/lmk if you’d like to be added to a taglist for this fic!!!

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

the next few days are hazy for terra. the bandages wrapped around her palms are itchy, and she can't stop herself from replaying the entire scene in her head. the way logan had glared down at her like she was worthless, the way he puffed his cigar and tossed his tank top over his shoulder on his way out. she couldn't help but wish she had stood up from her bloody mess and kicked his ass. she mentally curses at herself for being so uncoordinated.

when the time for their next training session comes, terra is buzzing. she prepares an endless amount of comments to throw at him, a million ways to kill him with kindness.

unfortunately for her, logan never shows. three hours, she waited, pacing back and forth; laughing to herself about how stupid this was, how stupid charles was for thinking this could possibly work.

as she storms out of the training room, terra, without thinking, beelines straight for logan's room.

pounding on the door, she tries to ignore the way the pace of her heartbeat quickens.

logan opens the door slowly, his brows furrowed in confusion. when he notices the fiery brunette standing in front of him, his demeanor changes.

“new pair of boxing gloves?” he smirks, sarcasm dripping from his lips as he gestures to her bandaged wounds.

silence fills the space between them. terra can’t even bring herself to dish a remark right back. logan bites the inside of his lip impatiently, he didn’t have the time for this. as he goes to shut the door, terra speaks up.

“i’ve been waiting for you, y’know.” she says softly, an angry, disappointed, yet calm look on her face. logan feels a shiver down his spine. the way she spoke so quietly, the look in her eyes almost… upset? no, unsatisfied. “three hours,” she laughs condescendingly. “do you feel that sorry about what you’ve done that you couldn’t even bring yourself to show up?”

logan scoffs at that accusation. she really knew how to irritate him.

fighting the urge to slam the door in her face, logan leans against the doorframe, waiting for her to continue. he wanted to see just what else, and how much, she could throw at him.

“i mean i’m truly flattered, logan.” she can’t stop the words from spilling out of her mouth. “you obviously care so much about me, about this,” she raises a hand, reminding him of his work. “that you’ve shut yourself up here, conjuring just the right words for the perfect apology!”

finally, logan feels the need to butt in. he can’t stand to hear the sound of her whiny voice dragging on and on, poking fun at his absence.

“you got just what you were asking for, sweetheart.” he snarls, inching toward her, clenching his jaw in between sentences. “you can’t bite off more than you can chew and expect to get away with it…” at this point, the man is hovering over her, clearly trying to dismiss her presence with intimidation. “you may think you’re some free spirit, some ‘make love not war’ flower child, but i’ve been around, and in the real world…” logan leans his head down, his face inches from hers. “your actions have consequences.”

terra tries not to show it, but his words send a piercing sensation up her legs and to the apples her cheeks, a light pink color washing over them. she can't help the way her knees buckle when logan's forehead just barely rests on hers, his breath practically reaching out and tickling her nose. she doesn't understand where this is coming from, but she can't say she hates it.

logan finds himself entertained with the scene below him. the way the girl’s face lit up a bright pink color the second his body got closer to hers, the shock written all over her expression. he’d been waiting for this, for someone to give her a goddamn reality check.

“now you’ve got nothing to say?” he chuckles, waiting for another reaction. whatever this game was that he’d started for himself, he liked.

the silence between the two is deafening. nothing but the soft murmurs of students passing by to their dorms can be heard.

“tomorrow. hand to hand combat. no powers, no tricks,” logan speaks up, repeating his rules from their last session. bending over ever so slightly, the man whispers the last bit into her ear. “all raw.”

terra’s left in a confused daze as she watches logan smirk, then shut his bedroom door behind him.

taglist: @somestardeww @keigohawks

[loaksbitch]

now this time, neteyam holding back from fucking you stupid but you’re too snarky and it ends up him really fucking you stupid? of course. — i want to cry bcs i love him ):

warnings : obviously smut, making love to slight rough fucking, multi-tasker neteyam, p in v, p penetration, pecks and kisses, teyam is puthy whipped, breeding kink if you squint, suggestive fluff moment in the end.

“you’re holding back.”

of course he is. neteyam is trying to stop himself from completely fucking you open and you telling him this was clearly not helping at all.

his face was damp, brows knit and braids with prettiest beads swaying when he fucked himself in you. neteyam tries to focus on not cumming before you, wanting to chase your release before his. “shh,” he hushes you, too afraid he won’t be able to make it with your broken voice, “need you to be quiet fr'me right now.”

but you were just far from quiet. he knows you love to tease him, be a little minx sometimes that he just can’t help but enjoy.

“you confuted yourself, teyam,” you breathily say.

your mate just groans, balancing himself on top of you by trapping your head with his hefty arms. “you think so?” he rolls his hips into you and you press your head back to the pillowy material below you.

“hm,” he hears you hum. “you said you were gonna fuck me stupid.” you remind him and feel your heart tighten when he chuckles. “and now you’re just making love to me.” he knows you like it rough, he just wanted to get a grip over himself.

“can’t i do both?” he distracts you, one hand sliding to your curves before he caresses your freckle painted hips.

“i don’t know, can you?” you smile, eyes fluttered shut when his cock propelled into your saturated cunt. neteyam swallows his spit, slightly feeling his ego bruising. he’s a perfect mate for a reason.

“y’know if you just want me to fuck you dump…” your breath quickens when neteyam sat on his heels. this is it, this is what you wanted and your inside coils just thinking of him ruining you. “what?” you sigh, chest heaving with adrenaline.

“you could’ve just said,” his every move was calculated. neteyam pushes your legs further apart and spreads you open, exposing your slick nectar. “‘want you to fuck me stupid, nete.’” your breath got stuck when he looked straight to your eyes, his being dark yet amber-like glowing under the eclipse.

that’s when you knew the man who was trying not to get ahead of himself was gone. completely gone.

neteyam pulls you rough to meet his thrust, plunged deep in you just to be drawing back out of your cunt. your mewl is high pitched, causing his ears to shift angels and flatten. “fuck.” he howls, feeling your warm walls clamping against his angry head.

your mouth flew open, shockwave washing over you. the pleasure he was giving traveled all over your skin that you felt you’re drunk to the brim. the man above you just drilled into you, the feeling of your nails digging into his wrist that were pressing you down to the mattress.

you didn’t notice how close he leaned until a soft kiss was placed on your cheek. “is this what you wanted?” he lifts your hips up which helps him sink deeper. “c’mon princess, this is what you want? me to fuck yo– fucking h...” he can feel you, he feels you. neteyam feels you and it feels so good.

you’re confident with your snarky responses and he found it hot. neteyam found everything hot about you but now you’re completely mushed up with his dick drilling into you and he knows you’re not satisfied yet.

“you’re not happy.” he tells you, it was obvious he had that cocky grin on his face. “want me to go faster, baby?” and he watches you nod, desperate and needy.

neteyam nodded, clicking his tongue before he sat up on his heels again. if you want it harder, then he will fuck you harder. you’re out of breath when he brought one of your legs by his waist while the other got pushed up to your chest.

“wait, net—!” you can’t even say a word when he hammers into you like an animal, full spread and energy filled. “like this?” neteyam tilts his head to the side, observing your twisted face.

“you want it like this?” he groaned, still pounding.

“yes.” you keened, “like that.” a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. “just like that.” you huffed.

you know you’re getting louder and so you bring your hand to cover your mouth, blocking the choked moan you’re voicing out. “no, don’t do that.” you feel a large hand pulling your hand from your face and greeted with a glare. “don’t cover yourself from me.”

your inside felt like it was burning, peak reaching and cool about to snap. you shake your head, eyes fluttering open to give your mate a pleading gaze. “you. are. cumming.” he mouths you, as if he's demanding for your release.

he tilted your pelvis one more and you knew it was over. you saw stars, your back arching from the mattress until the coil in you snapped causing your heat to spasm on neteyam’s.

left hand pulling on the bed sheet while the other slightly pushed neteyam by his pubic bone.

“don’t push me and take it, you wanted me to fuck you stupid remember?” you bring your head up, giving him a glare but his face said that only he did not care but he was proud of it too. his braids lying on his shoulder gracefully.

neteyam didn’t take much time either, eyes trained on the bouncing of your swelled tits. he was hooded and wanted to get to the finish line and so you helped him. “don’t hold back.” your voice was muffled at first.

“nete’” you purr at him, “don’t hold back.” you repeat and watch his pupil blowing wider. “you want me to cum?” he softly keens and you don’t hesitate when you nod, “please.” you practically beg and watch your man curse under his breath.

his long steady rolls were now deeper, casting your gummy walls and edging himself further. “in you?” he leans to nudge your nose, he wants to know if you’re comfortable with him doing that and his chest flicks with a tint of happiness when you nod, claiming you want all of him in you.

eventually everything came to an end; you moaning his name and accepting the torment he was giving you. his breath was ecstatic and shorter. “kiss me.” he says and you fulfill his wish, taking his lips in yours.

and it was hot. his load was heavy and warm when he painted your walls inside. fucking every drop of his seeds into you.

neteyam’s nose flared, calming himself with deep breaths as he braced himself on top of you. the sudden voice of yours pulls him back to reality.

“i won.” you giggle, fingers reading imaginary lines on his skin. “won what?” he was slightly confused at first. “i won with making you cum.” you say and he laughs, neteyam laughs.

“princess, i made you come first and you think you’re the one who won?” you were quick to defend yourself, you loved these types of post-sex arguments— which of course was not serious —. “but i still made yo—“ he pecks your lips, cutting you off.

“yeah and i never said i was holding back.” you stifle a laugh when he peepers kisses all over your face. “shut up!” your shoulder slacked in defeat but neteyam only laughed between kisses.

this were the moment you always wish eywa would never take away from you.

i liked this one! and you? — like + reblogs are appreciated! i love each and every one of you sm! mwah **

mentions : @sullybby @dilfverz @casiia @teytiri @theycallmesia @love-chx @gloryy-vs @eywas-heir (lmk if i forgot you)

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi, could you write something that deals with this? ......

https://www.tumblr.com/mhsdatgo/737617577019408384/gorgeous-little-piece-of-shit-king-that-lives-in

So at first I was like lmfaooooo but then I was like wait I can put this little blonde bitch in the WORST situation. I shall do my best, thanks for the request, I hope to get back to my pathetic Aegon roots for this one.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dark divergence from canon, Aegon is more cutthroat, King Aegon, Lannister!Reader, she’s a daughter of Tyland, Tyland is on his king behavior, meanwhile dumbass Jason, Aegon has the wife parade, he’s literally still little baby man, Manipulative and morally gray reader, Aegon Is A Pain Slut, ye olde cock ring, ruined orgasms, Degredation, bratting for like 1s, breeding kink, boobs fixation, overstimmimg, pnv!sex

A/N: Wayyyyyy off canon and just so I can make this guy cry also I try to stray from making oc’s but bc it’s a Lannister reader y’know. Body type/face/skin/hair texture is up to you, just know gold hair and green eyes. Also kinda got into a storyline? Idk smut is here!!!

As Tyland Lannister’s only daughter, he sought to keep you on Casterly Rock. It was rare for a house as proud and mighty as yours not to have their fairest ladies sent to catch a dragon’s eye. Or merely have it chosen for you. Jason would’ve had you wedded and bedded to any of the white haired boys by now. Your father was stated once in a letter, “I’d liken it to a den of snakes rather than dragons.”

From his reports they were strange or downright deviant, controlled heavily by their green side of the family. Rhaenyra’s brood was of a better nature but obviously born from the seed of Harwin Strong. So you went about your duties, becoming a fine educated highborn lady to sit around and pop out babies. Maybe order fancy dresses out of boredom.

Although you childishly dreamt that a handsome white-haired man would take you dragon riding, that was not your future. Fate had other plans. Firstly, you were barred from going to the grand wedding of Prince Aemond to Lady Cassandra Baratheon. Strangely enough, it was to be held at the Hand’s gloomy accursed Harrenhal. You wrote an angry letter to your father and another to Jason, downright distraught over missing another royal wedding. You could find a potential mate at one of these gatherings!

Tyland wrote back simply, “I do not want you in that bewitched place. I have an uneasy feeling about this. I pray for you and love you dear lioness of Lannnister, still roaring her heart away.”

The initial anger faded into fear. Then the news had returned. Your Maester read the report. Dragon against dragon, blood to blood, they would call the failed union the ‘Green Wedding.’ Crown Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon, all children dead but her toddling boy and blonde babes on Dragonstone

King Viserys had died the night before. Otto Hightower took matters into his own hands. Some would say it was well executed but not thought out. Princess Helaena had perished, the Blood Wyrm Caraxes attacking her in a fury before she could make it to her own dragon.

Prince Aemond and Aegon had taken to scorching Rhaenyra’s tent and all of her accompanying vassals. Harrenhal was lit aflame again— the Strongs burning up in a sea of smoke. The rest of the Hightowers had been haphazardly thrown into a wheelhouse, Queen Alicent purportedly retching and sobbing, crying for her daughter and late husband. They lay in boxes behind the cart. She had the young Daeron only for comfort.

Your mouth twisted up at the retelling of the scene of kin slaying and wretchedness. Your family had no love for the Blacks but for the Greens to so vilely destroy their own flesh and blood? You idly wondered about all of those dragons without riders. What Corlys and Rhaenys would do? She was fierce yet only had the young Baela and Rhaena.

Tyland had written to stay put, the Westerlands swore to the new King Aegon. War broke out as expected. The dragons saw an end to the strife rather quickly due to the help of Targaryen bastards mounting the riderless beasts. The realm was back under the control of the inept and horrid King Aegon the Second. They called it the half-year’s war. People spoke in hushed tones even at Casterly Rock.

Accursed family, we’re all doomed.

Otto Hightower should be sent to the wall— alas, then we’d have an idiot as a king.

Is the King going to marry soon?

You personally hoped he would marry soon. Jason had requested a portrait of you. There was no hidden reason why— he wanted lion’s blood on the already drenched Iron Throne. Your own father was staunch against that, writing that he had received a proposal from the Reynes of Castamere. You had smiled at that, their heir Ser Lynden was particularly handsome and kind. They had the riches to keep your lifestyle the same.

Not like the Targaryen’s didn’t. King Aegon could maybe see for a Dayne girl with their ashen hair and purple eyes. Or a Celtigar, they still had Valyrian blood. Mayhaps import one from Old Volantis— they claimed strong ancestry.

Alas. The raven came, your father’s anger poorly concealed.

“Even after all of my duties and help to the crown, asking for the Hand to keep my only daughter out of this, you are requested to be shown before the king along with the other highborn ladies of the Realm. I thought about setting my fool brother’s portrait on fire. Regardless, it shall be good to see my young lioness. I will be there every step of the way. Be kind.”

Your stomach sank to your toes before rising back up with anger. If that kinslaying mongrel deviant whore thought for a second he would enjoy your company? He would be sorely mistaken. Dragons may have claws, but so do lions and they are long and sharp. Huffing in anger, you stormed away from the letter.

The trip to the Red Keep was abysmal. It rained the entire way, you had to stop at Deep Den for a night to let the rains up. Their stony, cold castle was damp and you barely slept a wink. You awoke to ride to the Gold Road until the city walls and the Red Keep towered in the distance. You awed at the Dragonpit and the great Sept and it’s crystals.

Regardless of the magnificent buildings, the stench of the city was vile, air putrid with rotting fish and dung heaps. Nasty little peasants ogled your gold and red wheelhouse. Your frown deepened, anger boiling your blood. There was no way one could enjoy living here, fight to be here! King's Landing was a pile of shit with a Castle on top.

You were warmly welcomed by your father, a maid holding your dress aloft so the golden filigree wouldn’t get all mucky. Tyland hugged you and exhaustion fell over your body. You missed him dearly, the singular parent. Although your grandmother was very dear, she too had passed not too long ago.

Heads were still on pikes behind you. The smell of rot was stronger in the courtyard. You said in a miserable warble, “I detest it already, please dress me up ugly, maim me.” The fool Jason patted your back and laughed, “Ah, I missed your acrid tongue. King’s Landing is an acquired taste. Your quarters are facing the Blackwater so you can get some fresh air.”

“Others take you and that damn portrait,” you hissed at your nuncle.

Tyland led you quietly into the huge keep, prying eyes from all around. No pale-haired Targaryens to be seen. You could hear them whisper about the gold of your hair, the wealth oozing from the gown. Yes, like any of you have seen true class since the Conciliator Passed.

Once in the room you snapped at a servant to pour wine, sipping while other’s shuffled in and out to bring your trunks of goods. Tyland even spoke up, “Careful with that dress, please, it is for tomorrow.” You spat, “Tomorrow?”

He held a finger up, exhaustion lacing his face. Swirling the wine around you watched the bay and waited until it was just the two of you in a comfortable silence. Tyland had taught you that— know without speaking, listen when to listen. Tyland looked aged as he sank into the cushioned chair. He ran a hand over his face and sighed, “I thought the Dowager queen would have my back. Her son is much more willful than we thought. Otto wants our coin.”

“Borrow it from a bank and maybe they’ll root these vipers away,” you whispered under a covered hand. You’d been informed of the spies all about under Larys Strong. Tyland hummed a laugh, beckoning you over. Crawling into his lap, you felt as if you were a child again, emotions welling. You began to weep softly.

He rubbed your heaving back and shushed your cries. You hiccuped, “I-If he-he-he ch-chooses me!” Tyland sighed and finished in a quiet murmur, “You will show him that a lion is nothing to play with. King Aegon may be a pandering fool but he is easily swayed. Most of us think he has eyes for the Tyrell cousin.”

“Good,” you heaved. You cried in your father's arms until he put you to sleep at some point, kissing your forehead. Sleep was restless and pointless, you managed to gather some hours before the maidservants came to dress you.

They bathed, scrubbed, and used imported Westerland items. The smell made you homesick. They braided and twisted your hair, pinning a red and gold piece on top. The dress was just as proud— gold, rubies, pearls decorating the sleeves and neckline. Myrish lace was up to your chin, secured by a choker of more exquisite jewels and peridot to bring out your eyes. It cuffed at your wrists too. Maybe it would be too much for the weak-willed king.

The choker represented who you would always belong to— House Lannister, the sigil in solid gold and red enamel. A larger version cinched your waist. He could take the maiden with her tits corseted to her chin. The king merely needed a broodmare. A lingering voice tutted, “He may find holes where he pleases, but the king needs a queen.”

The door opened, Tyland extended an arm, lips in a tight line. He knew what you looked like. A queen.

The hall was full of highborn Ladies as you entered, you instantly recognized most of the sigils and house colors. King Aegon sat on the monstrous throne lazily, sipping wine while Otto ordered around women. A girl in the colors of Rosby didn’t even make a step up before he said, “No chin, next,” he looked down at Otto, “I’ll never believe a portrait. The Lannister girl probably looks like Jason with teats.”

Anger bubbled in your chest at his flippant demeanor and comments. The queen sat next to Otto, chiding Aegon. Thankfully you had a while in line. A while to get rightfully furious with this brat of a king! You had met squires with more dignity than he!

As you neared the imposing throne, you gauged the King’s looks. Definitely Valyrian with his pretty white waves and big violet eyes— hazy with drink and boredom. He was not of a warrior’s build, much to your chagrin. Aegon had shapely thighs but the rest seemed to be softened from his infamous gluttony.

Aegon yawned and pointed, “Redwyne? Not bad, Cole, go put her in the ‘perhaps’ section. Green eyes moved to the score of ladies looking fearful over toward the side. How crass. You could cut his cock off. So embroiled in coming up with torture scenes you blinked suddenly at the boom.

“Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock, daughter of Tyland. Aged 19.”

You stepped forward and kept your chin high, holding Aegon’s gaze intently, lips stiff. The king perked up, moving forward to get a look. He laughed, “Your father is on my council and you don’t pay obeisance?” With a grimace, you gave a weak curtsy to the young King.

Jason looked wide eyed from the side, mouthing, “PLAY NICE!”

Aegon hummed, standing up to walk down the throne, crowds gasping. As he drew closer you noticed the burns going down his cheek to curl below his collar. His violet eyes swam with something, a ringed finger tapping your tilted chin. He rasped, “A lioness for sure. Just overjoyed to get yanked from your golden castle. Is that why you out-dressed the entire kingdom?”

“I had to make sure you knew who I would always be, my liege,” you hissed, “Dragons can be tamed.”

“So can lions,” he quipped back, full lips splitting into a grin. He curled burned fingers into the lace guarding your neck. Aegon cooed, “I do wonder what you’ve got hiding under here. I’m guessing you have some nice teats. That’s my favorite game at the brothels.”

“You’re a vile little kinslaying creature.”

Otto and Alicent seemed to panic before Aegon laughed— a shrieking giggle. He stepped back up onto the dais and cheered, “I have chosen! The Lioness shall be mine blushing bride. Cheers!”

There was the sound of more defeated ladies but their fathers were likely inwardly cheering. Tyland looked ghastly grim, nuncle coming to peel him away. You refused to face the crowds, stepping over to the queen and the hand, fully curtsying. The queen grasped your palms and pled, “Please, guide him the best you can. I see a strength in you I haven’t seen since…,” she looked off and grew drawn. Lord Otto smiled, “More Lannister’s the merrier. Maybe Tyland can lighten his load.”

Aegon asked, “Alright, so when do we begin planning?”

You huffed and went to your father, hot tears soaking your cheeks. You misjudged. You thought he would be repulsed by a powerful woman. Instead he plucked you right up and now held you in this cage for a home.

‘A caged lion is still a lion, yes, yes’, you thought.

Tyland stated with a fury you had never seen before, “You will make that spoilt dragon break and bend.”

“Of course father.”

Aegon whined from between your feet, a dainty gold chain clasping his wrists, connected up to a gold collar engraved with rubies. This king you once hated belonged to you- heart and soul. He’d do anything, but you just preferred him to listen and be your pretty fuck toy. You felt love for him, differently, still love.

You wore a lace shift, the fabric barely covering anything, full tits and the gold curls of your cunt showing through. Aegon made to lave at your knee, getting slapped off. The blonde mewled, “Whyyyyy? I’ve been good?” Toeing his flushed cock, the pathetic thing whimpered and his prick oozed on the marble. You asked, “Tell me why you’re in trouble, My King?”

He swallowed around the collar, doe eyes watery and lashes clumped. Aegon’s cheeks turned red and he barked, “I’m the fucking king, I can say what I like!” You picked up the oak paddle and slapped his soft pooch of a belly, Aegon whining and writhing— the freak spurting more cum, hunching over and wheezing at the pain to his tender tummy.

“If you aren’t going to be my special boy, then I’ll just let you sit here and think about your actions.”

“No! No, I’ll be your special boy. I should not have japed at that squire over dinner.”

You cocked your head and leaned closer, “Why is that hm?”

Aegon sobbed sharply, pouty lips blubbering, “Be-be-because Iburnedhisfamilyscastleafterkinslaying.” You smiled and patted his unruly waves, smiling, “Good boy. The Seven may give you a chance. Probably not because you set your sister and uncle aflame, then proceeded to burn half the kingdom. You should be at the Wall with other war criminals.”

He nodded and cried, spreading his creamy thighs out for you. It was vastly amazing how much Aegon loved to be degraded yet praised. Your special boy. Sliding down the chair you perched on the king’s thighs, cradling his head with your sharp nails. You cooed, “Just needed a guiding hand, look how the kingdom has blossomed since you became my special boy? So pathetic and hopeless. My pretty little baby needs his queen."

He whined, arching into your touch, begging for a kiss. You relented, letting the needy little thing lap and press fervently to your own. He drooled, you wiping it away and taking over the lip lock. Nibbling gently at bitten lips, lapping into a tongue that tasted like sweetened wine. Aegon relaxed into your embrace, leaking all over your thin gown.

He began to rut and rut against your cunt, whining into your kisses. You indulged him until he was swelling and stuttering, backing off and fitting the gold ring around his cock. Aegon wailed and fell back pathetically, the ruined orgasm fucking up his senses.

“Noooo, no, no, I apologized!,” he protested meekly.

Shaking your head you shrugged, “I decide when you are absolved, not a thought in that pretty blonde head. Above men, we are gods, pfft.” He grumbled and squirmed, digging his toes down in frustration.

You returned to play with him, massaging his soft belly while suckling on the tip of his purpling prick, fingers rudely shoved up behind his heavy balls. Aegon moaned and shook, calling your name and begging for release. You drank down his bitter cum, leaking from the attention to his sweet spot from below.

You pulled off to thumb around the crown of his cock, cooing, “Oh you’re so gorgeous. My pathetic, soft little dragon. Feels so so good, yes?” He was practically riding your fingers, shying away from the intensity of the stimulation to his cockhead. The blonde keened, “S’good, g-gonna!” He wailed and thrashed harder, tears streaking a blotchy face. Only a thin stream leaked from his second ruined orgasm.

Aegon was babbling apologies now, promising dresses, jewelry, lands, his heart in a box if he could. It was garbled with his heavy tongue and fervent need. Gibberish really, if one didn’t see this side of their pouty king. What the wretch turned into when denied a good release— a snotty, sobbing, wonderfully broken mess.

He heaved sobs now, oversensitive to even the cool air. But his balls were full and swollen. Patting a limp thigh you asked gently, “Do you want to come now? Inside me? Your punishment is over.” Aegon sniffled, “Please my love.” You would keep the ring on for now but take it off once it didn’t seem he may blow on sight.

Aegon whined high in his chest, more tears falling as you eased onto his plump prick, extra swollen and hot. You gasped and grabbed blonde hair, praising, “Mmm- yes my darling precious boy. Filling your queen up good.”

He groaned and feebly arched, grabbing your tits and holding them as you rode his overused cock. Aegon cried and whined for a suck, you allowing him to take off the shift and shudder as plump lips enveloped your tits. He squirmed and lapped eagerly, loving to have a mouthful of your teats. Especially during that first pregnancy.

You were already close from the intensity of the punishment, swirling fingers around your button while unlatching the gold ring from behind. Aegon’s eyes flew open as he moaned vigorously, balls pumping you full immediately as he writhed around, still attached to your full chest. Your lashes fluttered at the warm feeling, cunt sucking and enjoying the heat, slick, and pressure of so much seed..

Hopefully this would take too. Another little one to dote on. Aegon was full on sobbing now, overwhelmed with emotions. You helped him to sit upright, still inside. He mewled, “S’too much.” You hugged his frame and cooed, pressing little kisses to his tender scars, “It’ll numb out, we want this to take do we not? Be good.”

“M’ still your special boy?,” he asked with reddened eyes.

Petting a full cheek you responded, “Knew whether I liked you or not, you would be. Hush now, relax, we’ll get some dinner and a warm bath my sweet. Tomorrow is a busy day.” He nodded and nuzzled between your tits like a babe. You smirked. Who knew this power could be claimed without bloodshed?

[scoobysnakz]

1950's greaser Miguel 😭 that's that

a/n: i had something like this in my drafts i was so happy omg 😭 also im so sorry this took so long i ended up falling down several rabbit holes around 50’s culture for no reason whatsoever. idk how to feel abt this it’s rushed and not proof read at all!!! so sorry for any dumb mistakes

warnings: none really except maybe threats of violence and very poorly written angst bc i just cant handle it.

everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. but you’ve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.

your ignorance to their advice doesn’t do much, though, because as much as you pretend, they’re right. he knows he could have any girl he wants, all he’d have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and they’re putty in his hands.

so why would he give you- the gut-wrenchingly awkward waitress at the diner him and his friends flood after work- the time of day ?

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

It's a peacefully slow day at the diner, booths just as empty as the tip jar and the counter bell unrung.

This would be the perfect opportunity to relax, count the cars passing by and try to work out if you can afford takeout for tea, but you are stuck talking to some random guy.

He's sweet enough, fairly attractive, and a large tipper. Hopefully, things don't get too difficult.

"So then I said to my buddy, Clarence. Y’know Clarence, sweetheart? Comes here twice a week with his wife on Tuesdays and then comes on Saturdays with his… lady friend?"

You internally grimace at his words. Your smile falters slightly but you fight to keep that forced, hospitality smile plastered on your face.

If working at this grimy diner has taught you anything it's that people like him don't want to see a strand of emotion other than flattery at their crude compliments.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question, darling.”

Your gaze snaps back to him, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Do. You. Know. Clarence?" he sounds much gruffer now, more stern.

Panicked, you shake your head a quick no.

You do know Clarence and he is even more pushy than this guy, always taking a not-so-conspicuous glance at your chest, 'accidentally' groping your ass.

Somehow, he knows you're lying and his expression hardens. "Don't lie to me, m'kay? I asked you a simple question and all you have to do is answer it for me."

The way his words are so slow to pass through his thin, leathery lips makes your stomach form knots.

You glance around the diner but there's no one else there, the very few people who had been there left the moment he came in.

Is there something you don't know? You've been working here for just over a month and you thought you knew all the inside secrets, the customers to flirt with to get the big tip, who to give extra sugar too because they're too nervous to ask for it themselves, which families will clean up after themselves. Obviously not.

The sticky brown tables are lined with half-eaten meals and a few bills that people left behind before running off.

You can hear the stove humming lowly in the kitchen and the man's heavy breathing accompanying it.

"I don't know who Clarence is, sir." your tone matches his, harsh and unwilling. It's nine forty-five on a Saturday and all you want is five minutes of sleep. "So either order something or leave. It's company policy.” you pick up a creased piece of laminated paper that says pretty much what you did but in a much more formal narrative.

His face contorts into a snarl as he glares at you, lips curling and nostrils flaring in a way that immediately makes you regret your sudden surge of confidence.

"You're lucky I don't hit women," he mutters under his breath.

Those words alone are enough to make your skin crawl. It's a threat, a cleverly disguised one, but a threat all the same.

"I'll ask one more time, sweetie. Do you know Clarence?" his voice is painfully condescending. Under different circumstances you would have chewed his ear off.

Before you get a chance to snap back at him the bell chimes as someone else enters the diner. You thank God, and whoever else is up there with him, that you are no longer alone.

It's a regular- Peter. You flash an uneasy smile, willing him to get the hint.

His mousy brown hair hangs flat on his head, a few strands wrapped around his daughter's pudgy fingers. Lazily, he turns to face you, eyes narrowing as he takes in your nervous expression.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

The man scoffs and rolls his eyes. “We're fine, get your coffee and go.”

It takes him a second, round brown eyes darting between the two of you before he sucks in a sharp breath and nods his head.

Peter knows he isn't intimidating, painfully the opposite. It’s almost impossible for him to come across as anything other than naïvely friendly… perhaps a little agitating, though. There's never a moment where a charismatic grin isn't etched into his thin, rosy lips or an awkward joke said to ease the tension. According to him, it’s his Achilles heel.

Hurriedly, he excuses himself and Mayday and pushes his chair away from the counter before stumbling out the door. Your eye twitches with slight irritation but you push past it; there’s no point staying angry with Peter when he didn't have any obligation to ‘save’ you.

Smirking, the man looks at you. It’s just the two of you now.

You know you shouldn't have begged to take the closing shift alone. You had assumed you’d keep all the tips, get to clean up with whatever music you like playing and have some downtime before trudging through the busy New York streets. And now you know how idiotic it was to think that.

“Hey, bebita.” the shrill sound of the bell doesn't do anything to dampen obnoxiously loud entrance.

You drag your gaze over to the source of the tall shadow that’s blanketing the top of the sticky, wooden counter. It takes you no time at all to recognise that sturdy build and dark heap of slicked-back curls.

Your eyes scrunch as your lips utter a silent thank you to God for freeing you from the burden of this creep and a little less grateful plea to get rid of Miguel as soon as possible.

Don't get it wrong, you couldn't be happier someone has come to rescue you from whoever this balding weirdo is but you might be a little more giddy with glee if it wasn't Miguel. It’s not that he's a bad guy or anything but things can get a little tense between people when one of them stands the other one up.

Miguel slides onto one of the stools next to the man, who is now looking considerably less confident now that there's a 6’9 man sitting next to him.

“Can I get a coffee, please,” he orders with an awkward curve of his lips that doesn't quite form a smile.

“She’s busy right now, might want to go someplace else, lad,” the stranger says with a nod towards the door, almost trying to act pally with Miguel. But he knows better than that- surely.

You can see Miguel’s jaw tensing from the corner of your eye but you brush past it, finding amusement in his irritation.

“You know how I like it, black, no sugar,” he says before turning his attention back to the man.

You make your way down to the other end of the counter where the coffee pot sits, encompassed by splodgy brown rings stained into the wood. You wonder how long you can stay down here, how many excuses you can come up with before one of them grows weary and snaps.

The wash cloth is still damp, you know it is because you wiped everywhere down at least fifty times whilst waiting for your unwanted visitor to leave. You begin to scrub the battered wood again, trying in vain to remove the surplus of coffee stains that you know won’t budge.

It’s not even late and you’re exhausted. Just the thought of getting on the train has your eyes growing heavy and shoulders sagging. And now, you have to deal with two of the most irritating people to exist.

“Hurry up with his coffee, we have things to talk about!”

You whip your head around, eyes narrowed with spite and lips parted to spew whatever crude insult spills out first but Miguel beats you to it.

“What?” he scoffs.

“She’s taking forever, acting like we have all the time in the fucking world!”

Without any hesitation, Miguel is up, towering over the balding reprobate. His expression is calm, surprisingly, but the slight clench of his jaw can't hide from your watchful gaze. You’re tempted to intervene, cautious of the mess Miguel’s infamous outbursts leave behind, but this loathsome man getting put in his place is more than worth it.

“Apologise.”

The man swallows, yellowing eyes widened with panic. On his own, the man is intimidating. He’s taller than you and it’s easy to tell he works out but he's no Miguel. Side by side, he looks like an influenza-ridden Victorian child whilst Miguel continues to stand proud, attracting all attention like a pompous black hole.

His chapped lips move but no intelligible words come out, just a serious of worthless splutters and squeaks.

Miguel rolls his eyes. “Apologise to the lady. Now.”

Only silence follows. Silence so soft and crisp you swear you can hear the snowflakes falling on the dirtied pavements outside before they instantly melt away. That’ll be fun walking home in.

“Por dios,” Miguel groans, “You have one last chance, tell her you’re sorry or I’m dragging you out and telling everyone how much of an uneducados, baboso bastardo you are!”

“I-i only understood bastardo,” the man stammers and you just about manage to muffle the chuckle that bubbles in your chest.

“Getting kicked out it is,” Miguel sighs.

You watch through amused eyes as Miguel grabs him by his tattered collar and drags him towards the door. The man continues to protest this, blabbering about how he's more than happy to apologise and that he has friends in high-up places who won't be pleased to hear about this, but Miguel doesn't care.

He chucks him out into the street and you don't even have to see his face to know he’s smirking as the idiot lands flat on his ass because you are too.

The bell chimes his entrance once again, a proud grin on his face as he saunters towards you.

“So?” he questions expectantly.

Pushing past your amusement, you shrug your shoulders.

“I just kicked out some dick head for you and you’re not gonna say anything?”

“He didn't get a chance to pay, so you’re gonna have to cover it.” you flash him a sarcastic smile before picking up the tip jar and pushing it towards him, “and tip.”

His eyes narrow before he pulls out his wallet and behind to leaf through a series of wrinkled tens and twenties before pulling out a fifty. “Treat yourself.”

Again, you offer a forced smile before taking the jar away and opening the register to change the fifty for five tens. Your ears perk at the sound of his exasperated sigh, the corner of your mouth twitching into a grin at his irritation.

“You are so petty you know that, hermosa?”

You slam the register shut, mettle blooming in your chest at the dumbfounded expression on Miguel’s face.

You remain unblinking as you glare at him, not a slither of emotion is present on your face other than pure unbridled spite. You’ve never been able to wrap your head around his confidence. Sure, he's conventionally attractive and can tell you how the reason you never see stars at night isn't because of all the light pollution but because they know they’ll never compare to the grace of your smile or the dazzling beauty of your eyes all in Spanish. But is he really that amazing?

He pulls out a small metal tube from his pocket and pops it open. “Toothpick?” he offers, sliding one between his lips, “cherry flavoured.”

You keep staring disdainfully at him, expression unmoving.

“I’m starting to understand why he was in such a grump,” he mutters to himself, although his eyes are still carefully trained on you, “with service like this, any man would end up in a funk like that.”

That does it. You slam your fists on the tacky counter with a furious groan. You’re so fucking tired, not one single person in this entire rat-filled city has manners, the last thing you need is some self-obsessed playboy messing with your emotions.

Palms stinging , you look back up at him. His eyes are slightly widened but he stays silent, slightly baffled by whatever just happened.

“Get out, Miguel.”

He scoffs and stays where he is, clearly not oblivious to how infuriating he is.

“I’m not joking. Get out.”

His expression falters slightly but again, he simply refuses to move.

“I am so tired of people walking all over me, not an ounce of courtesy or anything. I'm not letting you, of all people, treat me the same.”

Slowly, he stands up, pushing his toothpick holder into his inside pocket.

“Please,” your voice cracks as tears sting the corners of your eyes, “just get out.”

You don't wait to hear the door close before allowing yourself to crumple, head falling onto your folded arms on the counter while unwanted tears trail down your cheeks.

You can’t believe you just broke down that, completely unprovoked. Miguel didn't help but whatever just happened was… it was more than unnecessary it was just plain childishness. How could you have allowed yourself to get so worked up? Normally you’re so collected, and always know how to act, yet the second that cocky idiot is around your emotions run havoc.

Then, your nose breathes in that familiar cedar and menthol smell. Internally, you groan.

“Look, I’m sorry that was out of order,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. It's all well and good being able to apologize for being a dick one time but when you're continuously being a douche the effect tends to wear off.

“How did you even get behind here?” you mumble into your arms.

Ignoring your question, he slowly wraps an arm around your waist. You jump, at first, but allow yourself to relax. It’s nice being held, even if it's awkwardly and by someone you detest.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

What a gentleman.

Sniffling, you lift your head and turn to face him. “I don't have a car, Miguel!” you croak out.

What could pass as either a pout or a thoughtful frown forms on his lips as he stares at you. Whatever it is, it reeks of sympathy that you didn't ask for.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that.”

“No. I’m sorry about before.”

You scoff. It’s like he refuses to listen to you on purpose.

He runs his fingers through his hair, a sigh pushing past his lips. “I’m sorry about not showing up.”

It takes a second or two before you get what he means. You raise your brow, taken aback by his sudden ability to take just enough responsibility to apologize but not enough to actually say what he did. It’s funny, in a way, that it took you having to yell at him and break down crying before it even clicked that he should apologize.

“It’s fine, you were a dick and I got over it.” you lie.

He scowls, clearly unimpressed by the lack of enthusiasm his apology earned him. He steps a little closer, fingers grazing against your middle. Instinctively, your stomach clenches at the contact but you don't move away.

“That’s… that’s fair.”

You hum in agreement but remain silent.

“Forgot how to speak?” his voice is smooth like velvet but you don't take the bait. You’ve been in this position before, Miguel holding you close, a sudden softness to his demeanour whilst he comforts you. And last time it ended with you crying into your pillow until you fell asleep.

His hand turns your face towards him, thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip. “Que niña tan linda,” he utters.

Your upper lip curls up in disgust and you push him away. You might be exhausted and emotionally distraught but that doesn't mean you don't have common sense.

Something, you’re not quite sure what, flickers across his expression as he bites down on his bottom lip.

Defensively, he holds his hands up and takes a dramatic step away. “Misread the room.”

You laugh. Again, it's not even a proper apology, just something to clear his conscious until he does something equally as idiotic. It would take a miracle for him to give a heartfelt, meaningful apology and you sincerely doubt any miracles are coming his way.

Another awkward silence fills the room. It's not like the one before, though, there’s no fear of death or ill-mannered slobs taking up all thinking space. Just you and Miguel, stood dangerously close while you cumbersomely sniffle away your tears.

You can feel it, Miguel’s intense gaze burning holes into the side of your face. He doesn't look away, just keeps staring at you, unblinking and unmoving.

“Bebita.” you allow yourself to look at him. The harsh, flickering yellow lights hang close to his head and burn the corners of your eyes. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“If you thought so, I wouldn't have been left standing outside the movies for an hour in the rain waiting for you,” you mutter snidely.

Ditching his previous tactics for forgiveness, he groans. “I told you already, I was busy.”

Everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. But you’ve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.

Your ignorance of their advice hadn’t done much, though, because as much as you’d pretended, they were right. He knows he could have any girl he wants, all he’d have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and they’re putty in his hands.

And you'd fallen for his flirtatious trap once before. Hook, line and sinker.

You force your gaze away, deciding eye contact with him isn't worth the optical damage that will surely present itself sooner or later.

“You have a house phone, could have called me or the diner, hell- Peter would have been happy to be your little messenger pigeon!” it all comes out at once, a toxic blur of anger and regret that has been burning in your chest since the moment he walked in tumbling out your mouth before you could get a chance to stop yourself. “You are the scum of the earth, Miguel. I hope you know that.”

He lets your words settle in the air, arm slowly retracting from your waist and coming to rest on the countertop. His lips are pursed into a tight line that hides all emotion but the remnants of a frown tug his brown eyes downwards.

“Peter had come out, before, telling me that some creep was in there bothering you.” he glances back down at you, waiting for something other than fury to be represented on your face only to realise his optimism was all in vain and continuing on. “And I thought… maybe if I sort this out for her, she’ll forgive me.”

“You trying to be a good person now doesn't make standing me up okay.” you pause, angling yourself to face him, a sudden wave of sympathy crashing over you at the sight of his shiny eyes. “I forgive you, for now.”

This time, he doesn't even try to hide the pleased smirk on his face. His obnoxiously sharp canines poke proudly over his bottom lip and that ridiculous cocky twinkle is back in his eyes. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging to no end.

“Does this mean we’re friends now?”

You scrunch your nose and shake your head. “I can't be friends with someone who tips with a fifty, it’s too ironic and tacky.”

He clutches his chest in feigned offence before a low chuckle rumbles from deep within his chest.

You aren't too sure what you are, in all honesty. The two of you had started off as acquaintances, which led to a strange friendship which had snowballed into him kissing you in the kitchen after closing hours before he stood you up on your first proper date. And now you’re both here, laughing even though you’re certain you wanted him dead almost a minute ago.

“Can I try again, then? I want to get it right.”

You shrug, you only live once.

[90ekz]

✣ HEAD OVER BOOTS! ੈ✩‧₊˚ SASUKE UCHIHA

wc. 1.5k

tags. farm au, fluff, stableboy!sasuke x black fem!reader, wingman naruto bc that concept is funny as FUCK, “suggestive” thoughts on sasuke’s end.

stableboy!sasuke who’s eyebrows raise as you step foot onto the ranch he works at, claiming to be a replacement for the last dairy farmer who had recently been fired. at first impression, he’s just irritated that he has to make conversation with another nameless coworker. the last new hire that he spoke to reported him to the head farmer about his “attitude problem”, and he’d gotten a very verbal warning.

and so, he tries.

slight nods toward people when they speak to him, eye contact, the whole nine. does he love doing it? absolutely not, but he can’t afford anymore complaints, this job is too important to him.

he doesn’t plan on treating you any differently, until he sees the way your brown skin sparkles in the sun, or the way your slacks cling to your thighs, and now he’s contradicting his previous beliefs. before you, his breath didn’t usually hitch when he saw people and his heart definitely didn’t hammer against his ribcage for no reason, especially since he hasn’t even spoken to you in the two days you’ve been here.

he keeps his distance, because frankly, he doesn’t trust himself to not do something stupid in your presence.

sasuke shakes his head to get himself out of his own thoughts as he’s brushing the mane of his favorite mare, luna. the action makes her tilt her head at him, and he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“don’t ask.”

it isn’t until your fifth day of employment that he’s forced to interact with you.

sasuke’s already in a bad mood, after being forced to finish grooming the last half of naruto’s sheep since he’d passed out from the heat, and even now as he dislodged the horseshoe from luna’s foot, his mood was still sour.

“there you are! ‘been looking for you for like 30 minutes!” naruto calls from behind him. he looks over his shoulder to see the blonde carrying a huge knitted sack on his back. it was a surprise that it hadn’t busted with the weight of whatever was inside of it, and sasuke felt another vein in his forehead swell with blood.

“look who decided to get over his heatstroke.”

“screw you. i’m here to do you a solid,” naruto drops the sack on the hay-covered floor with a soft thud, and a few green clusters roll out onto the ground. since when did they do personalized grass bundles? sasuke’s eyebrow twitches, and he hopes this isn’t what he thinks it is.

“you get to take these to the new girl! kakashi said they were for the cattle.”

fuck.

sasuke audibly chokes, eliciting a snort from his blonde counterpart, but this isn’t funny in the least to him. he wants to do literally anything but this, and yet his greatest fear just came true right before his eyes. why did he apply for this job again? “no. absolutely not—just… no.” sasuke turns back to his current task, and attempts to finish tending to luna, but naruto is trudging over to him and crouching down to his level with a calm smile. for a while, just watches in silence, and sasuke briefly considers stabbing himself in the eye with the pair shoe-pull offs he was holding.

“y’know ‘suke, you can’t be afraid of pussy for your whole life.”

“can you genuinely fuck off?” sasuke gripes, his grip on luna’s hooves tightening a notch until he realizes what he’s doing. he breathes in once, and out another—just like kakashi had taught him that one time after him and naruto had gotten into it on the front lawn and fell in the fish pond.

“nah. anyway, i know how you are about people, but you obviously feel something for her, right? at least you’re subtle enough, but i pay a lot of attention these days. she’s so nice, just go talk to her!”

and maybe he’s right—maybe he just needs to man up, and go talk to you, but what would you even say to someone like you? you’re everything he’s not, and the last thing he wants is to make a bad first impression. sasuke hates to admit it, but you absolutely allure him in every way possible. once he finishes the other horseshoe removal, he’s shooting to his feet and slinging the back of grass over his shoulders. sure, it almost sends him tumbling to the ground, but for some reason—a new wave of determination is washing over his skin.

“just talk to her…yeah, i can talk.”

“exactly! now stop thinking so much and take the goddamn grass.” naruto ruffles sasuke’s hair and shoves him into his first steps out of the barn, and he’s on his way to you.

he mostly just strolls around the farm to stall, but if anyone asks, he’s thinking of what to say. he just needs to deliver the bundles, introduce himself, and leave. it’s gonna be fine, right? you’re not gonna think he’s a total weirdo—but what if you do think he’s weird? oh god, that’ll kill him. he has to see you everyday, and if you think he’s weird, then you’ll probably tell everyone, and then he’s gonna get fired—shit, he should go back to his room—NO, he’s delivering the fucking grass bundles, it’s just cow food, for gods sake.

grass, introduce, leave. grass, introduce, leave. grass introduce, leave—

“oh, are those for me?” you gasp happily from your spot on a comfortable piece of hay, and you’re running over to him. how the hell did he happen to stumble directly into your barn? curse his ridiculously good sense of direction. your scent floods his senses as you step closer to him with that smile, and it’s just then that sasuke remembers what he’s there for.

“yeah, naruto made me deliver them, the lazy bastard. they’re for your cattle.” sasuke says coolly, yet internally cringing at his dialogue options. obviously, they’re for the fucking cattle, god.

all his worries melt away as small giggles flow from your lips, and you take his wrist in your hand and lead him into the barn. you introduce him to each one of your cattle��literally every single one—and he doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed anything more than he is right now. everything is fine, but now the adrenaline is wearing off and he’s painfully aware of how gorgeous he’d always thought you were once more.

from your voice, to the way your clothes cling to your body, to your scent—sasuke’s being lassoed in by your beauty, and he doesn’t think he wants to escape. frankly if you tied him up, that would be pretty hot. you have rope on your belt right now, you could literally just—no, what is his problem?

by the time he’s done fantasizing, you’re unbundling each pack of grass and feeding your cattle. he inhales, and goes to squat next to you.

“i’m sasuke, by the way.”

“hah, of course i know that, silly! you’re the heartthrob around here,” you chuckle at your own remark, and sasuke even feels himself smirking a little before catching it. why was he so entertained by you?

“that’s one of the first things i found out when i got here. i didn’t even know who people were talking about, but then i actually saw you, and well—let’s just say i understand a little better now.” you finish unbundling the last pack of grass, and watch the cattle fall into their peaceful little cliques. you lean back onto your occupied hay bed, and begin unbuttoning your flannel. sasuke doesn’t freak out, thinking you’re just gonna gonna stop at two or three buttons, but then your passing your third, then fourth, then fifth—eventually leaving your shirt completely open, and the only thing underneath being your sports bra.

he isn’t blushing, nor is he looking. sasuke is not a creep. he keeps his gaze directly on the floor as he stands up, and offers you a hand up without looking at you. you giggle once more and take it, and he feels your nails graze over his palms, which does something funny to his stomach. he still can’t look at you all the way, but he can feel your gaze on him.

“thanks for the delivery. i was hoping i’d get someone as fine as you, guess my wish was granted.” your eyelashes flutter as you talk, and he’s definitely blushing now, but his composure is still there as he gives you a very curt nod.

it’s not until you reach into your pocket and pull out a little roll of cash and stick it into his breast-pocket that his mind is short circuiting. your fingers linger on his chest for longer than they should, but he never wants you to move them.

“see ya’ around, cowboy.” you drag you finger down his chest as you take your exit, missing the stuttered breath that tears itself out of sasuke’s chest. he stands deathly still until you’re out of sight, and then he’s promptly crumpling to his knees.

“fuck.”

[bellewintersroe]

Another idea I would love to see you write (and it doesn't have to be NSFW if it makes you uncomfortable) is Malarkey, Babe, Chuck, Shifty, Winters (and anyone else you want to write) reactions to seeing all the various scars you received during the war for the first time. The scars can be wherever on the body you want to put them and the injuries that caused them can be different for each guy if you want; I will leave that to your creativity and discretion. I would just find it interesting to see how you think they'd react bc, while injuries during the war became probably a daily occurrence for the men that they've grown accustomed to, you're technically not a man and how could you have gotten hurt?

ugh I absolutely love this request it’s so creative, thank you sm!! I hope it’s what you were picturing, if not feel free to request another :) i’m comfortable writing NSFW but for this request I haven’t gone too crazy, but there is some mentions of potential smut? I can also understand how the topic of scars should be a TW- but no mentions of any self inflicted scars. Easy Boys reaction to seeing your scars:

Dick Winters:

I think he’d probably notice the small, circular scar on the back of your lower hip during seggsy time.

he wouldn’t point it out, seeing as that seemed rude and a bit off putting mid activity- especially seeing as it was one of the first times the two of you sleep together.

it’s afterwards that you’re cuddling when his hand travels down, “how did you get this?”

“oh, that scar?” You’d begin to laugh, leaving him a little confused. “Accidental cigarette burn from a guy I was treating in Normandy.”

Dick is a little confused, you seem so amused so he’s following along with a smile but it’s the most confusing thing ever.

what actually happened is pretty lighthearted, you were treating a wounded guy in the infirmary in Normandy, and well, his eyes were bandaged up and accidentally mistook you for the ash tray?

a pretty funny story, it burnt at the time, but you don’t mind the small scar, in fact it’s even amusing to you. Dick doesn’t notice it often, but when he remembers the story you told him he’d smile every single time he’d see it again.

Babe Heffron:

In Austria you’re wearing your summer uniform/ clothes, things are more relaxed, and so when your top falls down your collarbone the slightest bit, you don’t think anything of it.

“Wha- hey! How’d you get that?!” That was until a certain Babe Heffron chimed up, sounding overwhelmingly concerned, eyes focused on your upper chest.

“What?” At first you’d cover it up, unconsciously before even realising what he’d seen.

he’d hurry over, taking a peak to sigh with relief when he realised it was an older scar.

“Babe.” You’d grumble, pulling your top further up out of embarrassment.

“Oh, hey- no, don’t be upset, I was just worried thas all. It’s not everyday I see a lady with a scar, y’know.” His hand would smooth down your arm, worried he’d offended you, but he’s so sweet, how could you ever be upset at Babe?

“It’s from Bastogne, right?” Unlike the other men (apart from Gene) Babe would probably recognise where it was from.

“The bombing at the church, yeah.”

“I like it, looks cool.” He’d be so honest and genuine, at first I think you’d be a little shy, but Babe finds it so unique, and well- it makes you you.

the major downfall however is that you obviously got hurt, resulting in this scar. He can’t bare the idea of you hurt, it sends a chill through to his bone.

Chuck Grant:

Chuck is no stranger to scars especially after the war, so when he notices you’ve got a couple littered around your leg he doesn’t point them out due to knowing how sensitive that topic can be.

theyre white and faded now, only small, but I feel like Chuck would probably recognise they’re from Bastogne- like he’s seen the wounds the splintered trees cause, he figured it would be something like that.

in reality they were a present from Haguenau. An exploded building left your leg semi trapped, luckily not broke, but it hurt like a bitch and left you with the constant reminder of the pain.

You’d tell him one day after a shower, when you caught him looking at them. “I know they’re ugly.” You’d wince, conscious.

“Ugly? No, c’mere, babe.” He’d pull you into his lap, hand on your thigh as he kisses you so tenderly.

“Nothin’ about you could ever be ugly, doll.” Ugh he’d be sooo sweet and kind, reassuring you in the best way possible whilst accidentally seducing you.

Shifty Powers:

Too cute omg, he wouldn’t even really notice too much, I mean everybody has scars. You’d lay and night and he’d caress your skin, not caring if there was a scar or two littered around your shoulder.

“How’d ya’ get this?” He’d ask softly when the two of you were both falling asleep.

“Nothin’ exciting, I was playing around in the water when we were in Austria and caught my shoulder on the pier gettin’ out the water. I wish it was a better story.”

Shifty would find it so amusing because only you would wish you had a better story to tell about a scar. The rest on your body are from your childhood, Shifty would love hearing the stories that come along with each scar.

Eugene Roe:

Unlike some of the men I think Gene would’ve actually been there when you got injured.

you’re a woman, part of the medic team, a field nurse really which is attached to easy company, so you’re close to the men, especially Gene, throughout the war.

Gene would still remember vividly the day you got hit, how he failed to protect you, cover you. A sniper came out of nowhere, catching you in the shoulder. Gene can only imagine the bullet was meant for him and not you.

He’s the one that patched you up to the best of his abilities, it’s one thing treating a man, but to be treating a girl? Especially one he liked- well his hands were shaking and he was reassuring you non stop.

the scar left was only small, luckily there was no complications and you got lucky and could get back to work real quick.

Every time Eugene notices the scar it reminds him of what happened to you. At first he wouldn’t talk about it. Then, slowly you get it out of him and he’s so soft with you.

“I just don’t know what I woulda’ done.” He’d sigh, burrowing his face in your neck/ chest pressing kisses to your skin.

“Well you don’t have to think that, cos I’m still here with you now, Gene.”

Don Malarkey:

Don would actually notice the fresh scar on leg during Haguenau when you were rolling your socks up, he gets a peak at the flesh on your calf.

“Woah, that looks nasty, how’d you get that?” He comes and sits behind you, waiting for you to turn around.

“Fuckin’ tripped and fell, Malark. Out of everything that coulda happened to me I got this from falling over.”

Malark is more concerned about your wellbeing but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t break a smile.

“That’s just your luck.” He’d smile, rubbing your leg gently to check if it hurt. “You’re ok now though? So you don’t need carrying around everywhere?”

“I wouldn’t object to that…”

No but seriously, Don is a massive sweetheart, he probably would carry you around Austria just for the fun of it, he still blames it on your ‘cut leg’ that he needs to do that.

in reality he’s just flirting with you and knows it’s super easy for you to kiss him whilst he’s holding you like that.

Lewis Nixon:

“What’d you do?” He’d ask as soon as he saw it, running his hand back against your hair, revealing a kinda small scar placed near your hairline.

it’s early in the morning, the two of you are lounging in bed with a cup of tea or coffee, preparing to have a lazy day.

“Oh, it’s from running Currahee, I face-palmed the floor.”

“Ouch, what did Sobel say?”

“thank god he wasn’t there to see it. I got a matching one on my knee too, from the same fall.” You’d pull out your bare leg from the covers and he’d purposefully slide his hand up your thigh, then over the scar on your knee.

“Nice. Battle scars.” He smirked, teasing and pulling your leg over his to give him a cuddle.

[maxlarens]

(ONE MORE TONIGHT SORRY) 📎: Oscar and his (forbidden) love for pain au chocolat leading him to a tiny bakery outside Monaco bc less eyes and obviously it becomes his favorite spot (actually I want to do a smau on this now 😭)

sorry this took me five years i had so many thoughts it was actually hard to narrow down. surprise i rambled about another oscar idea that viv gave me! who's shocked?

yes😌 and i agree u do need to write an smau for this anyway. LOVE. so obviously he finds the exact bakery that you work at on a stewpid little rental bike😣 like he’s just riding around trying to get used to the city and he stumbles upon this like hole in the wall, tucked away little bakery because he can smell it all the way down the street or something. and can’t help himself.

and maybe he discovers it on break where he doesn’t have to be SO strict with his diet. and he comes back every couple of days because he gets like... ADDICTED to the pain au chocolat there. and y’know he notices you of course because you’re there every time. and he’s normal about it at first, doesn't think too much of you. until you start to acknowledge that he's a bit of a regular. and then it's like he finds himself thinking about you all the time. and he thinks okay maybe a side effect of being addicted to the pastries? but he its not like hes thinking about the food. he's thinking about your hair, the way you smell, your accent, the way you smile when he comes into view

you probably develop a bit of relationship over a few weeks. since he has to wait for you to make his coffee and for the pain au chocolat to heat up, he does a lot of standing around at the counter and chatting. it's awkward at first because oscar is. but the two of you warm up to each other quickly. you tell him what you're doing living in monaco, he tells you vague bits about his job without revealing too much straight away. he laments about his diet, you tell him he has to come by for coffee anyway. and he does, whenever he can. he starts to integrate the bakery into his running/cycling route as much as possible. he's there basically everyday. but when you tell your coworkers (who work on your off days) they have no clue who he is because he doesn't bother to come around if you're not there😭

secretly he thinks the coffee is average.

simply a MUST for you to start calling him pastry boy as a joke. this is how you learn his last name. and how you find out he's a formula one driver. which you obviously ask him tons of questions about while he blushes his lil head off🥺

i think the two of you continue like this for a while. and even though you know it's far more than a normal cashier/customer relationship, i think you're both reluctant to cross that line. you especially. because he's an f1 driver and you're just a barista. so i think you wait for oscar to make a move. he does eventually.

maybe around the monaco gp and he starts thinking about how he'd really like to see you there? he asks you out for lunch on a not-date date and things go well from there😌

the slow burn of it all is so cute i think! trying to find excuses to go see you even when his diet doesn't allow for it. the conversations that you get wrapped up in that can only go for so long until you're neglecting your job. oscar timing his visits to near your lunch break so he can spend more time with your attention on him. the slow integration of you into his life. and eventually you're living with him and maybe you get a different job but you still bring him pain au chocolat from that bakery🤭

[issacballsac]

“Being Fujin’s Son„

He’s so father and I love him for that ! Masc/Male Reader

Wind Deity | MK

Bro was like sealed away for majority of the prime events for MK11 💀

So you guys would obviously meet earlier

In one of his lines for MK11 when talking of children he said ‘it’s a joy I will never know’ so you’re gonna be adopted🫶

It’s mortal kombat so ur gonna have some sort of power

I’m seeing you as a strong ass kid who can’t control his powers cuz of sick of seeing weak mfs🤞

He’d meet you on one of his many trips/adventures through the realms

Seeing you absolutely lose ur shit he’d stop you ofc

Y’know bc it’s kinda his job to keep the peace😭

He doesn’t want you thrown in jail for destroying shit so he takes on the responsibility of your new father

“Do not worry, I am Fujin, I will take care of you.”

Daily Scenarios | MK

Have you seen his hair?

Trust me your hair will improve in condition when under his care

Dw he’s pretty experienced so he would know what to do for all hair types

You’d prob end up growing your hair out like him but if your insecure abt having long hair he would understand

A lot of meditation.

He would often train/spar with you to keep your power in check

Can’t have you destroyin shit all the time 🫶

You guys would often travel different places

Seeing different cultures, trying new foods, dressing in different styles, etc.

It would honestly be rlly fun

He’d def take you on wind turbine rides if you aren’t afraid of heights ofc

He’s makes sure you live a healthy lifestyle and get enough exercise daily even if ur lazy like me and hate exercising

He would never want to put you in danger

BUT,

In the events of MKX when the sky temple is attacked he wouldn’t stop you from helping defend it

Along with this he might seek you out for MK11 AfterMath if you don’t take part in the major battle

I think he’d be a good cook with all his knowledge of different kinds of food he can def make smth good

Would make you cook with him so you can learn to cook for yourself

Despite being a good cook you guys would def go out and eat most of the time

Night markets too!

He probably wouldn’t have any pets

You’d probably meet Raiden during the attack on the Sky Temple

“Brother, this is my son.”

“Your what.”

He wouldn’t have much of an opinion on you rather than the fact that you’re kinda dangerous and a distraction from Fujin’s duties

Not like he already didn’t get distracted even without you 💀

Raiden wouldn’t HATE you though he’s just cautious

You guys wouldn’t have a set home aside from the Sky Temple as you’re constantly on the move

He doesn’t necessarily age so he has no reason to slow down and why would you!