#i take so much inspiration from that lovely women oh my GOD

[lluvguts]

it always makes me laugh when people say how much they love my writing style because I got it from donna tartt herself sweetheart

[pitchsidestories]

Girls like girls like boys do II Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

a/n: The tiktok video was our inspiration for this oneshot. We hope the person who requested a KCC oneshot ages ago likes how it finally turned out. ❤️

arsenal women masterlist I word count: 1965

"Saw your face, heard your name Gotta get with you Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new Isn't this why we came? Tell me if you feel it too! Tell me, girls like girls like boys do Nothing new"

~ Hayley Kiyoko, Girls Like Girls

Three beaming australian players were strolling along at London Colney while you were busy preparing the set up for the upcoming tiktoks.

You really enjoyed your internship in the social media departement of the Arsenal Women Football Club. It was a joy and pleasure to work with such a talented team off and on the pitch. Moreover, working here really sparked your creativity which you thought you lost a bit during your studies at university.

With a bright smile on her lips, Steph Catley was the first of the three players to greet you: "Hi, y/n got a new aussie to work with you today."

"Hi.", Kyra Cooney-Cross waved at you. Her cheeks were slightly blushed as she took a closer look at you. "Hello, nice to meet you, Kyra.", you said in a warm tone, trying to make her feel comfortable and less nervous about her first days with a new club.

A real smile appeared on the young australian midfielder's face: "Nice to meet you too."

With a cheeky grin Caitlin Foord striked different silly poses in front of you which made everyone laugh: "So what are we supposed to do ?"

"No, worries Cait, I already have an idea how to introduce the newest aussie member to the Arsenal family.", you told the striker before you winked at the latest addition who came from Sweden.  Curiously Steph glanced at you:"You do?" "Yes and it goes perfectly with Caitlins goofy mood.", you replied. "That’s the best videos.", the striker declared. Excited Kyra was clapping her hands: "I can't wait." "Yes, let's go.", the defender announced equally motivated.  "Great, so let's get started.", you nodded, ready to show them the ideas you had in mind for them.

After all the filming was done Kyra was nervously licking her lips as she turned her face to the fellow Matilda teammate:"I don't know how to, Cait." "Don't know what?", Caitlin asked friendly. From afar she spotted you, so the young midfielder mumbled blushing: "Doesn’t matter."

Later in the evening Kyra arrived at her new flat, which was still relatively unhomely with all the cardboard boxes still being around, that was the moment when she started missing her former Hammarby teammates.

The ache intensified, as she saw Katrina Gorry video calling her, while taking the call the young player could see the older Australian woman’s face lighting up: “Hi, little one.” “Hi Mini.”, Kyra replied softly.

Smiling brightly Katrina told her: “Harper and I saw the Tiktok Arsenal made with Cait, Stephy and you.” “You did? Tell Harper I said hi.” “I’ll, she loved it, the woman who lived in Sweden admitted before changing the subject with a bright grin on her small face, But now back to you, you wrote something about a cute girl.”

A nervous cough escaped from the younger midfielder’s lips: Yeah…” “Tell me about her.”, the older player encouraged her, looking very cozied up in her chair.  Slowly Kyra opened up: “She’s the social media manager?” “Means you’ll have plenty of opportunities to get to know her.”, Katrina winked at her. The tease was enough to make the new Arsenal player blush: “I can’t.”

“Why not?”, the young mum asked slightly irritated. The response came quickly from the other side: “She’s working for Arsenal.” “So do you.” “Yeah. Isn’t that a problem?”, Kyra played with a loose string of her hair to calm down her nerves.

Empathetically Katrina shook her head: “Not at all. Oh my god, you’re literally so cute Kyra. You know that you’ve players in your team who date each other, right? So that’s not much of a difference, you see.” Mini as she was lovingly nicknamed by teammates and fans felt the motherly urge to hug the younger woman, but was kind of sad about the fact that she couldn’t do it in this particular moment.

Kyra frowned; “I do think that’s very different.“ Katrina on the other end just sighed; “Okay.“ “You don’t think that?“ “No, you should give it a try.“, replied the older football player sternly. Kyra bit her lip; “Seriously?“ A small smile appeared on Katrinas lips; “Only if she wants to too of course.“ But not even that wiped the doubtful look off of Kyras face; “But I’ve never asked a girl out.“ “Oh, trust me, it’s not very different to asking a boy out.“, Katrina laughed. With a shy smile, Kyra admitted “It does feel different. Actually, boys used to ask me out.“ Her team mate sighed; “Yeah, I know. But fuck the patriarchy.“ Katrina barely finished her sentence, when her eyes went wide. She turned to her two year old daughter; “Shit, Harper, you didn’t hear that!“ But it was obviously too late. “Fuck the patriarchy!“, a childs voice repeated enthusiastically. Now this finally made Kyra smile brightly; “At least this time, it was you and not me.“ She thought about the world cup and the times she had to swallow the swear words she was about to say because Katrinas daughter was around.

“Do you want to hear about my first time asking a girl out?“, Katrina asked, obviously interested in changing the topic quickly. Kyra nodded; “Sure.“ “Alright. So, I was so nervous I stumbled over my own words. I couldn’t get out a full sentence. But the girl knew where I was trying to go and said yes anyway. What I’m trying to say is, you probably won’t be as awkward as me. Or if you are, it might just run in our family.“ “You know we’re not actually related, Mini.“, Kyra snorted. Katrina smiled softly into the camera; “I know but we’re found family.“ “Thank you. That means a lot to me.“ “You’re welcome. Call me after you asked her out, okay? I have to take Harper to bed now.“ The toddler was currently trying to climb onto her mum’s lap, rubbing her eyes, so Kyra waved into the camera; “Good Night, you two. Love you.“

With a bright smile on your face, you greeted the newest Australian signing on the next day: “Good morning, Kyra.” The grin intensified as you followed her gaze, catching her looking at your sports bag: “Oh yeah, I’m playing too, amateur football tho, later we do have a game, that’s why I carry this around.” “You’re playing too?”, Kyra asked, her mouth feeling suddenly dry from that unexpected but equally lovely news. “I’m a midfielder just like you, but not that good.”, you answered, your cheeks turning red. The arsenal player replied warmly: “Oh don’t say that. We all started there.” “I guess that’s true, and I really like my team, you stopped before suggesting boldly, Maybe you want to watch a game of mine someday so you can judge for yourself.” “Really? Yeah, sure. I’d love to.”, the young midfielder was clearly delighted by that opportunity to see another side of you. “Cool, when do you think you can make it?” “Oh, probably not today.”, Kyra nervously licked her lips. Quickly you reassured her: “I did not expect you to that’s why I asked.”

Later the young Australian player was sitting next to Caitlin in the changing room after the training for the day was done. The older attacking player raised up her eyebrows: “She invited you to watch a game of hers? That’s almost a day.” “That’s not a date..”, Kyra whispered. Meanwhile Steph joined them and suggested: “If you want to we can go to the match together. What do you think about that?” “Really? You’d come with me?”, the youngest of the three looked very relieved by that prospect.  Encouragingly Caitlin nodded: “Of course.” “How about next week? Before the season starts?”, Kyra asked them excited. Smiling Caitlin promised her: “We’ll be there.”

The next weekend, when Arsenal had a free day, Caitlin picked Kyra up to go watch your game. “Let’s see how good our content creator is.“, she said excitedly as they entered the football pitch together. Kyra was trying to find you, so she only realized that Steph joined them when Caitlin added; “Oh my god, you brought Calvin with you, Steph?“ “Of course I brought him. Couldn’t leave him at home.“, she laughed. Kyras face immediately lit up as she crouched down to pet the dog; “Hi cutie!“ “He says Hi, auntie Kyra.“, Steph replied for her dog who was trying to lick Kyras face.

But as soon as the first whistle was blown, the attention of the three Australians shifted towards the game. “She’s really good.“, Kyra noticed after a few minutes of watching you. Caitlin sighed dramatically, eyes wandering over the pitch; “God, I miss this.“ “Me too. I think I’ll try to go here more often. It’s fun.“, Kyra grinned. Steph nudged Caitlin with her elbow; “It’s so cute, Cait. Kyra is crushing on her.“ The younger player shot them an offended glance but Caitlin didn’t take her eyes off the grass; “And I’m crushing on this grassroots football, Steph. Don’t you ever miss playing like this? Just for fun?“ “I do. But look at Kyra.“ Arsenals newest signing was back at watching you, ignoring her two team mates. “She’s enjoying this.“ With smirk, Steph nodded; “Not only the game.“ “She said it’s not a date but it basically is a date.“, Caitlin agreed, laughing.

As soon as the final whistle blew, you walked over to the side of the pitch to hug your visitors; “Hi, my three favourite aussies.“ “Hey, great game.“ “Yes, it was great to watch.“, Steph and Caitlin offered their compliments. “Thank you.“, you smiled gratefully, before turning to Kyra who went suspiciously quiet, “Did you enjoy the game too, Kyra?“ “Oh, yes, I did. You were amazing.“, she answered fast, almost stumbling over her own words. Your smile only got brighter; “I’m glad that you did.“

“Caitlin, let’s go. Calvin needs a walk now.”, Steph dragged the forward with her, feeling you two needed time to talk alone in peace. For a second Caitlin gave the defender an irritated look: “I thought he just was on one!, when she realized her teammates plan behind that move and added quickly, yeah, okay, see you two tomorrow.” “Bye girls.”, you waved at them, still smiling while shaking your head at them. Nervously Kyra went through her hair with one hand: “So…” “Yes?” “I know this is weird but.. would you go out on a date with me?”, the Australian midfielder asked, her cheeks turning pink. Immediately you tried to calm down her nerves by saying: “Kyra it’s not weird at all. I’d love to go on a date with you. Do you want to get something to eat with me after I changed into normal clothes`” “Yes sure.”, Kyra nodded happily. A huge grin appeared on your lips as you said your goodbyes for now: “Perfect, see you in a few minutes.”

From afar Caitlin and Steph were watching you two. The forward turned to the defender visibly amused: “So I guess we don’t have to take her home now.” “Right, come on Calv, time for us to leave.”, Steph said, the dog himself could not wait to get back to his place after this adventurous day for him.

A few days after your first real date Kyra decided to video call her national teammate because she could not wait to tell her the great news. Curiously Katrina glanced at the younger footballer:“ So, what did she say?” “She said yes and she’s my girlfriend now.”, the Arsenal midfielder confessed. Excited Katrina lifted her arms up into the air: “I fucking knew it.” Her swearing made her wife looking really annoyed at her, so she tried to defend herself, sorry love, but thank god, Harper is asleep so she could not hear me using those words to express my excitement.”

[mypearlsareclutched]

Because You Got Out of Hand

High By The Beach | Chapter Ten

Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character, Modern!Aegon II x Original Female Character

Perhaps it is nostalgia that makes her sees the bright side of Aemond once again. Perhaps it is her innate desire to feel loved. All that she knows for sure, is that the Targaryen's are a damn good fuck...

Can the Targaryens PLEASE just not have a familial dispute every five minutes, like goddamn. It's three in the morning GO TO SLEEP DAEMON! Also so sorry this has taken so long, life hit me x

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: Sexual Content (MDNI, 18+), death, funerals, reunited at last, Targaryen daddy issues, love triangles, rhaenicent crumbs, so much angst, Daemon, Otto, smutty smut, oral sex (f receiving), missionary sex, manhandling, hair pulling, doggy style, Mila and her post nut clarity.

Word count | 5.6k

previous chapter // next chapter

Hours after the burial, Mila sits beside Baela on a wall outside of the mansion, the sky growing dark.

With a shaky breath, she lights a cigarette. The click of the lighter and flicker of the flame, and the feeling of the smoke in her lungs comforts the Stark as her mind goes into overdrive, trying to make sense of her feelings.

Baela watches her worriedly, playing with a strand of her hair as her eyes follow Mila's trembling hand. She moves to say something, when another person joins them.

Helaena scurries up to them, looking even more pale than she did before. Both Baela and Mila go to speak when Helaena beats them to it.

"Grandfather is going to read dad's will out now." She murmurs, crouching down to pick up a snail slithering down the pathway. She places it into a nearby bush, before standing again and looking between the two women.

"Yeah, I saw dad stalking off." Baela rolls her eyes, "I swear he grieved Viserys for about fifteen minutes before he started thinking about taking over Dragonrider."

Dragonrider, the illustrious investment company began by Viserys' grandfather, Jaehaerys. Viserys had taken it over years ago after he had passed away. When Viserys was still young and unmarried, he promised Daemon he would take over the company when Viserys grew tired of it. But that promise was never upheld. Because soon after, Viserys got married, and had a daughter. The company was no longer just his job, but his way of providing for his family, and making them proud.

Daemon never forgot about that promise, though. He famously feuded with his brother over it. Over his 'birthright'.

"Do Rhaena and I need to come to the reading?" Baela asks Helaena, a frown on her full lips.

"No. Immediate relatives only, Otto said." Helaena says with an apologetic tone.

"Oh, thank gods." Baela relaxes, rolling her shoulders, "As little time I have to spend around my father, the better."

"Word." Rhaena calls from beyond the wall, where she crouches as she texts someone. Cregan, most likely. Asking about Morning, most likelier.

Mila smiles down at her friend, before taking another drag of her cigarette as she looks back at Helaena. The blonde woman looks at her nervously, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"What's wrong, bug?" The Stark asks.

"Otto has asked you to join as well." Helaena murmurs, her already somber face dropping further.

Of course. Because I am apart of this sordid, godsdamned family.

Mila clenches her jaw, patting Baela's knee as she rises from the wall. Her friend gives her a worried look, opening her mouth to say something, before Mila shakes her head. Offering her the half-smoked cigarette, which Baela takes, Mila takes Helaena's hand and begins walking back to her doom.

Helaena leads her through the house, avoiding as many remaining mourners as she could. They ascend the stairs, walking further and further into the vast, castle-like home until they find a dark oak door.

Criston Cole stands outside of it, talking softly to Alicent. She stands still, picking at the skin around her nails as she stares off into the distance. The two of them jump when Mila and Helaena appear, standing taller and falling silent.

"Mum." Helaena says softly, nodding.

"Darling." Alicent clears her throat, sending a pained smile to her daughter before looking at Mila, "Mila."

"Is everything alright?" She asks her, rather absentmindedly, as her eyes move to the large doorway.

"Of course. We just have to get the legal stuff out of the way, and then we can all go home." Alicent states, wearing a smile that looks painted on. Helaena sighs, walking forwards towards the door, and Cole opens it for her. Inside, multiple voices could be heard arguing. Alicent grimaces, quickly following after her daughter with Mila in tow.

"Do you know why I've been asked to be here?" Mila asks Criston quietly as she passes him.

"Maybe he left you a paper weight." Cole shrugs, holding the door open for her.

Mila gives him a small smile, before crossing the threshold.

Inside, Daemon Targaryen lounges in a leather armchair behind an expensive desk, toying with the ring on his finger as he glares at his nephews. Aemond paces the room, his suit jacket off and his sleeves rolled up. He argues in a low voice with his uncle, who seems greatly amused by the situation.

Rhaenyra sits on one of the chairs opposite the desk, staring at the night sky outside as Alicent takes the seat next to her. The two women share a look, their expressions softer as their eyes meet. Daeron, Jace, Halaena and Aegon sit dotted around the back, all silent and looking greatly uncomfortable. Luke appears around the corner as Mila walks in, and he visibly relaxes when he sees her.

"Mila." He smiles, walking over into her open arms. She hugs him close, ruffling his dark curls affectionately.

Other heads in the room turn to her, noting her attendance to this meeting. No-one looks shocked, though perhaps anxious due to her difficult recent history with Viserys' second son. Rhaenyra offers her a comforting smile, Daeron nods at her, Jace widens his eyes in a silent plea to jump out of the window with him.

Aemond stares at her, lone eye softening as he turns and begins approaching her. Luke leaves her side, avoiding Aemonds line of sight as he stands at his mother's shoulder.

The one-eyed Targaryen walks towards Mila slowly, not unlike a hunter approaching a startled animal. A weight settles on her chest as his hands each up to caress her elbows.

With the attention of the room on her, she allows him to pull her into an embrace. His arms feel familiar as they wrap around her, his hands finding purchase on her waist, his chin on her shoulder. Mila leans into him, her own instincts betraying her as she allows herself to find comfort in the hold of her ex-boyfriend.

Over Aemond's shoulder, she meets Aegon's eyes. He stares at her, face expressionless. But his eyes hold a thousand thoughts, ask a million questions, try to hide an immeasurable amount of feelings.

Mila can only hope that he find solace in her own eyes.

A short laugh zips through the air, making Aemond stiffen against her. Mila's eyes turn to the Targaryen in the room she is least acquainted with.

"The She Wolf," Daemon states dramatically, smirking. His eyes roam over her, an eyebrow raising in intrigue, "I get it now."

"Come on. She's young enough to be your daughter, uncle." Daeron rolls his eyes, visibly cringing.

Daemon's smile is predatory, and Mila fights a shudder as she extracts herself from Aemond, walking further into the room. She finds a spot away from everyone, leaning against a bookshelf as she crosses her arms over herself.

"We're just waiting on my father." Alicent tells the room, trying to ease the tension as she smoothes out her skirt, "He's taken care of Viserys' legal business for over thirty years."

"Was that before or after he sold you off as his child bride?" Daemon asks with feigned interest.

"That's enough."

Mila is shocked when Rhaenyra speaks up, sending a sharp look to her uncle. The Stark knew little of Rhaenyra and Alicent's strained relationship. All she knew was that they were friends when they were young girls, and that friendship ended when Alicent married Viserys at nineteen, a bump barely concealed by her dress. But as Alicent looks at Rhaenyra now, a grateful and soft expression, Mila understands that their friendship meant a lot to both of them.

And if Mila knows Otto Hightower, then she knows he was the reason it ended.

"So we're waiting on the old man, huh?" Daemon sighs, lifting his feet to loudly drop them on the mahogany desk, crossing his ankles, "Let's all catch up then, hm? As family."

Everyone glares at him.

Jace clears his throat, turning his head to smile at Daeron at his left, "You're playing footy at uni, right?"

"Yeah! It's great, I'm in goal at the moment but-"

"Boring." Daemon fake yawns, "Let's discuss what will change when I take over Dragonrider."

"That'll be the day, huh? Pigs will fly, the hells will freeze over..." Aegon sighs, playing wistful.

"No one finds you funny, nephew of mine." Says Daemon as he rolls his eyes.

Aegon puts a hand to his chest, gasping in outrage. As he grins slightly, his eyes flicker over to Mila, and she gives him a small smile, as if telling him 'I find you funny.'

Neither see Aemond watching the two with a narrowed eye.

"Surely the company will go over to mum. Right?" Luke chimes in, seemingly innocently confused by Daemon's comments, "That's what grandfather always said."

"Sure. Maybe that was what he intended when Nyra was young and single and careerless. Now she's got other priorities."

"Did you just call me old?" Rhaenyra asks with a raised eyebrow. Daemon scoffs, waving a hand dismissively.

"People love MILFs." Mila winks at her, and Rhaenyra tuts at her with a humoured smile she tries to hide.

"Down girl." Jace grimaces, "I'm right here."

"So am I." Aemond says, and if he had shown that kind of possessiveness a month ago, Mila would have adored it. But now, Mila feels herself shrink slightly.

Aegon stares at his brother, pressing his tongue to his cheek as he bounces his leg, agitated.

"Well, at the end of the day, it would be Viserys' decision who would take over his company." Alicent sighs, touching her seven pointed star necklace, "May the seven rest his soul."

"Now that doesn't sound like daddy's perfect little girl, does it?" Daemon taunts, making Alicent send a glare his way. Rhaenyra subtly rests a hand on Alicent's arm, offering a small comfort.

Mila focuses on her hand, on the affection of it. It looks so natural, and it makes . They were destroyed by circumstance, perhaps like her and Aemond, perhaps like her and Aegon...

Those around her continue arguing, mainly Daemon, with the others voicing their opinions or merely telling him to shut up. Mila tuned most of it out, biting at the nail on her thumb. But the jist of the argument was not lost on her.

Neither Rhaenyra nor Aegon want to inherit the company, but both Daemon and Aemond do. Oh the curse of being the second born.

"We're getting nowhere!" Daemon groans, sending a spiteful glare to Alicent, "How long will your idiot father take to slowly walk here?"

As if summoned, Otto Hightower finally turns up, his face unreadable as he slinks into the room. He sneers at Daemon, sat at the desk.

"That desk costs more than your house, Mr Targaryen. Kindly remove your cheap shoes from it."

"Ooh, someone's time of the month is here." Snickers Daemon as he stands, presenting the chair with a flourish.

Otto ignores him, placing the envelope containing the will on the desk.

"Viserys Targaryen's will clearly states how he wanted his assets divided between his family." Otto states, sitting on the newly empty desk chair, "He owned three properties, two domestic and one for business. This mansion will be left to his wife, Alicent Hightower. Dragonstone is now solely owned by Rhaenyra Targaryen. The 'Dragonpit', as he calls his place of business, will go to whoever inherits his company. His funds will be equally distributed between his five children, with seperate accounts held in place for his grandsons."

"Oh, result." Aegon snickers, crossing his arms, "Now I can get a pony."

"Shut the fuck up, Aegon." Daemon sneers.

"In regards to his company, Dragonrider Investments, he has stated that his first born son, Aegon Targaryen, will take over as CEO of the company, effective immediately."

The room is deathly silent as everyone digests this information.

And then, all hell breaks loose.

Daemon stands from his chair with enough force to send it tipping backwards, his eyes enraged as he sneers at Otto, "You lie."

"I do not lie, Mr Targaryen. It is written right here."

"My brother would never leave his company to this half-wit!" Daemon yells, pointing to Aegon. He slams his hand against the table, "You fucking snake, you changed it, didn't you?!"

"A vile accusation, Mr Targaryen. It would be wise to refrain from making baseless allegations against me." Otto sneers.

"There's no way Viserys would have chosen Aegon over Rhaenyra. He chose her years ago and would never, under any circumstances, change his decision to his second born, lowlife of a son. The company belongs to Rhaenyra." Daemon states.

"You just want Rhaenyra to have it so you could manipulate her into giving it to you in favour of keeping her own business." Aemond rolls his eyes at his uncle, leaning over one of the chairs to grab the back of it, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

Aemond's voice is calm, but Mila can see the barely contained rage in his shoulders.

"If Dragonrider was left to me, I would not have chosen Daemon to take it over." Rhaenyra scoffs.

"Yeah, she has a whole son over here." Daeron nods to Jace

"Leave me out of this." Jace murmurs, holding up his hands defensively. He shares an exacerbated look with Mila, who shrugs at him as she gnaws on her thumb nail.

"I want to see the original will." Rhaenyra sighs, glaring at Otto.

"You didn't even want the company." Aemond bites, "You should be jumping for joy."

"All I want is for my father's last wishes to be respected. I do not believe he would have chosen Aegon."

"Because who would?" Daemon snickers, "Apart from the obvious."

The room goes quiet, and Mila looks up to find Daemon Targaryen's eyes on her. Aemond stiffens from beside her, rage radiating off of him, hotter than dragon fire. The others in the room look between the two Targaryen's, feeling the tension rise to a boiling point.

"What is it you are implying?" Mila finds herself asking, staring Daemon down.

"Oh, nothing." He smirks, "Just that you seem to have a type, She Wolf."

His tone catches Aegon's attention, who sits up in his chair. After looking bored throughout the hearing of his father's will, Daemon's sudden aggression towards Mila makes Aegon suddenly sober up. He looks ready to speak when Aemond beats him to the punch.

"How dare you?" Aemond growls, stepping forwards towards his uncle, "Say what you wish to the rest of us, but think twice about what you accuse my girlfriend of doing-"

"I'm not accusing her of anything. Just stating the obvious. We all saw those pictures from Old Town, anyone with two eyes could see what was going on..." Daemon makes an exaggerated face, holding his hand up to his mouth as he looks at his nephew, "Oh, wait!"

"Watch your tongue, uncle." Aemond warns, voice icey, "Or you may lose it."

"Oh, be quiet, Aemond. The grownups are talking." Daemon says dismissively, "it's not like you were even in the running to inherit Dragonrider, anyway."

The room soon dissolves into chaos, with Daemon and Aemond standing chest to chest as they bicker and hurl insults at one another. Rhaenyra stands at Daemon's side, trying to prevent the two from throwing punches, while Otto tries to shout louder than the other's to control the situation.

Helaena holds her hands to her ears, sitting beside her mother, who looks pale and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Jace and Daeron sit side by side by the desk, watching the growing chaos with bored expressions, and Aegon sits as still as a statue away in the shadowy corners.

Mila holds her head, standing to the side next to Criston Cole, who looks about ready to quit his job. His eyes keep flicking towards Alicent, a protectiveness on his face that makes Mila like the bodyguard even more.

"Maybe you should take her away. She doesn't need to see this." Mila murmurs softly to him, her own concern for the older woman's stress evident. He gives her a firm nod, disappearing across the room to come to Alicent's side. Alicent grabs Helaena's hand as they leave, and Mila thinks about following them out.

Across the room, Mila spots Aegon rising from his chair, heading over to another door leading out. Without another glance, he quietly slips out and away from the chaos.

"Aegon, wait!"

Outside the Targaryen estate, Aegon turns around at the sound of Mila's voice. She crosses the cobblestone of the drive, face twisted with sympathy and desperation.

"I can't do this, Em." Aegon sighs, shaking his head. He runs a shaky hand over his face, his breathing erratic, "I can't be what they want me to be. And... I can't be what they expect. I'm not that guy anymore. The delinquent freak who would roll over and do what Otto told me to. I know my grandfather had a say in this. He must have... manipulated my father into making me the heir, or something. Otto thinks he can control me, so he would control Dragonrider."

He paces as he rambles, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. Mila watches him with a pained expression, unable to help him and forced to stand aside and watch as he struggles.

Lifting his head, Aegon looks at her with glassy eyes, "I can't be apart of this."

Mila reaches out for him, and she can see his eyes moving frantically from her hand to her face. With two swift strides, he reaches her.

"I..." He starts, his voice trailing off. He clenches his jaw, looking down at her lips before back at her eyes. Mila nods almost imperceptibly, reaching a hand up to brush against his sleeve.

Aegon's hands cup her cheeks, pulling her in for a swift, loving kiss. Mila melts into him, holding his elbows as he kisses her languidly, enjoying the feel of her against him. Their lips move in a sensual dance, mapping the other out until the feel is carved into their memories.

But all too quickly, his lips disappear. With a final look into her eyes, Aegon turns and walks away, disappearing into the night.

When Mila finally returns to the mansion, Criston Cole stands waiting in the foyer, releasing an annoyed sigh when she is the only one who returns.

"Is he gone?" He asks simply. She nods, trying to blink away the tears that spilled outside.

Criston eyes her, pulling out a handkerchief and giving it to her wordlessly. She wipes her eyes silently

"Makeup smudged?" She asks, trying to sound casual.

"Just say you're really upset about Viserys' death."

Mila chuckles, giving Cole his handkerchief back with a thank you, and he nods.

Turning the corner on the way back to the office, she watches as Daemon storms out of the double doors, throwing them open hard enough so send the doors colliding with the walls, their loud thuds. The other's rush after him, in various states of distress.

"Daemon, stop being so childish! Stop this!" Rhaenyra yells after him.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I being too loud?" He screams back at her, long hair wild around his head.

"Loud enough to wake the dead." Jace murmurs around his drink with a raise of his eyebrows. Rhaenyra smacks his arm, causing the younger man to flinch and jump back.

"Good! Let's get Viserys up here, he can put an end to this shitshow!"

Alicent walks down the hallway, eyebrows raised eye as she eyes Daemon warily, "What-"

"I'm going to disembowel your father." The scorned Targaryen sneers at her, making her press her lips together with a huff.

With that, Daemon struts off, likely to throw a further hissy fit elsewhere. Rhaenyra rolls her eyes, murmuring 'pathetic' before wandering back off into the office with Alicent following. Jace downs his drink, winking at Mila before he disappears down the hallway with Luke and Daeron on his heels. The muffled voices of Rhaenyra and Alicent can be heard through the dark wood of the office door.

A small grimace appears on Mila's face when she realises she is left alone in the hallway with Aemond. Her ex watches her, his face twisted in a barely contained scowl at the actions of his family, his eye narrowed in anger.

Before Mila can utter out an excuse to leave his presence, Aemond sighs through his nose, "I need a drink."

He turns on his heel, walking away in a flurry of blonde hair and dark fabric. When he doesn't hear her following, he stops and turns his head.

"Are you coming?"

"...Apparently." Mila sighs as she crosses her arms and follows after him.

Mila watches Aemond pour himself a drink from the families lavish bar, the rest of the room dark and quiet apart from the clink of ice and Mila's heel tapping against the wooden floor.

Not a word has been spoken, neither of them being the first to speak for fear of how the other will respond. Rain distantly patters against the large windows across the parlor, and thunder occasionally rumbles ominously.

"It's late." Aemond finally comments around the rim of his glass, "It would be best if you stay here tonight."

Mila raises an eyebrow, "Oh would it?"

"You can sleep in one of the spare rooms." He sighs, "If you wish."

"But you would prefer it if I slept in your bed? If I forgave everything you have done and move forward as if nothing happened?"

"Yes." Aemond says simply, putting down his glass, "All of that. That's exactly what I want. What I need, Mila. I need you."

"Aemond I don't want to talk about this." Mila shakes her head, trying to push his words out of her head.

"But we must." Aemond says, his voice pleading. His hand leaves his side and attempts to take hers, but Mila wraps her arms around herself and turns her back on him, tucking her chin as if she were protecting herself. Aemond sighs, walking around her to the glass doors. He opens them, ignoring the rain crashing down around him as he pulls out his pack of Marlboro reds and his lighter.

Mila joins his side, watching his strong profile as he puts a cigarette between his lips and lights it. Aemond offers her his pack wordlessly, and she takes one, letting him light it for her.

They stood in silence in the shelter of the doorway, the world outside stormy, the house behind them silent and dark. Their solemn faces are illuminated by the cherries of their cigarettes, smoke escaping their lips and floating up to join the dark clouds, ripped apart in the sky by the harsh winds. Mila watches the sky, feeling a few stray drops of rain caress her cheeks.

"Did you love me?" Aemond asks suddenly, looking down at the lighter between his fingers.

"What?" Mila asks, turning to look at him.

Aemond's head lifts, staring right into her eyes. His one eye is stormier than the heavens above them, his eyepatch a black hole on the left side of his face.

"Did you love me?" He repeats, his voice softer.

Looking into his eyes, she's reminded of the first time she realized she was in love with him. Three months after their first meeting, Otto had dragged their sorry asses to Tyland Lannister's birthday bash, and the Targaryen clan spent an evening in the lions den of Casterly Rock. After a surpise appearence by Jason, Mila had instinctively grabbed Aemond's hand and fled away from the celebrations. Out of breath and finding herself in the gardens with Aemond chuckling down a her antics, Mila looked up at the Targaryen man and came to a startling realisation.

She was in love with Aemond Targaryen.

In the present, Mila stares up at him, feeling Deja Vu as the gardens surround them and his eye watches her carefully. Words escape her, a shakyh breath released from her smoky lungs.

Aemond's hand cups her cheek, pulling her closer as he finally breathes out what she always wanted to hear.

"I love you." Aemond says.

She took a sharp breath, face scrunching as her heart lurches.

For months she waited to hear those words. She craved it. Finally, a traitorous voice says inside her head, as Aemond's lips press to hers.

Mila has no idea how she ended up here.

One minute, she kissed Aemond in the door leading out to the gardens of the Targaryen manor, in the early morning after his father's funeral, after he finally told her he loved her.

Now, an hour later, he had her naked laid out on his head, his head between her legs.

Fisting the sheets at the side of her head, Mila's back arched off the sheets, a sheen of sweat across her skin. Aemond prodded her with his tongue, delving it deep within her to drink her up. His large hands spread out over her hips and stomach, holding her down as she shuddered and shook, pleasure coursing through her.

"Fuck..." Mila moaned, dropping her head down as his lips surrounded her clit, sucking harshly to bring her closer and closer and closer to her impending orgasm.

Having discarded his eye patch, Aemond looks up at her with one pale blue eye and one glistening sapphire, the contrast harsh but eerily beautiful. Mila finds herself avoiding meeting his gaze, her eyes scrunching shut

"He can't have you." Aemond growls between her legs, "He won't have you. Not after everything."

His teeth grind down on her clit, and with a silent scream, Mila's legs shake around his head, falling over the edge.

Euphoria clouds her mind as she watches Aemond crawl over her, kissing along her neck up to her jaw, where he mumbles unintelligible words against her sweaty skin.

The head of his cock brushes against her, and she whines against his face, pleading. For him to stop? For him to keep going? She didn't know.

"My love." Aemond groans, sinking into her to the halt, "Mine."

A protest sits on Mila's tongue, but it disintegrates as Aemond begins fucking her quick and hard, slamming his hips forwards and backwards like a madman. He sets a punishing pace, forcing her to feel every beautiful inch of him.

Her hands desperately grip onto him, his shoulder and his forearm. His one eye watches her, a fierce passion within its depths, the sapphire almost shining within his barren socket.

Her body sings for him, moans escaping her lips as she begs him not to stop. For a moment, Mila can almost forget everything that's happened.

A headlight outside passes over Aemond's face, casting shadows that morph his face into that of his brothers.

Aegon's name sits on her tongue, almost escaping her as the vision of her ex-boyfriend's older brother brings her closer to her rapidly approaching peak.

Something crosses over Aemond's face as he watches Mila's eyes glaze over, almost as if he could read her mind.

Her flips her over, sharply re-entering her from behind. Mila gasps, bracing herself on her forearms, her body surging forward with every harsh pound of Aemond's hips.

He threads his fingers into her hair, tugging on her scalp whilst his other hand smooths down her back.

"Tell me how good it feels." He commands, delivering a sharp smack to her ass. Mila whines, pushing back into him, "Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it? Fucking cockslut."

Mila babbles out, collapsing from her elbows onto her face, biting down onto the pillow as Aemond's thrusts increase in speed, fucking into her hard enough to make her back arch impossibly low.

"Oh gods... Aemond, I'm-" Mila sobs, feeling her orgasm quickly approaching.

"Fucking do it. cum all over my cock, that’s my good girl. My beautiful girl."

With a muffled scream, Mila arches her back, her cunt fluttering as Aemond's brutal fucking sends her into oblivion.

"That's it, there you go." Aemond grits out, panting as he fucks her through her orgasm, his cock throbbing with his impending high. With a low groan, he pulls her ass flush to his hips, emptying himself deep inside her until his cum runs down from where they meet, staining the sheets below them.

Aemond pulls out, causing Mila to groan at the sudden emptiness. The Targaryen collapses beside her, taking shuddering breaths. Mila remains as she was, her hair in her face as she stays fucked out. His fingers move the hair from out of her face, leaning forward to kiss her lips gently.

The moonlight shone through the sheer curtains of Aemond's old room, casting the Targaryen and the Stark in a sheen of white light. Aemond's breath has evened out, his one eye fluttering in his sleep, the other open. The sapphire sparkles, taunting Mila as she watched his face.

It feels like her stomach is alive with confusion and dread.

Aemond told her he loves her. He finally said it.

Isn't this what she wanted? All those months at his side, hoping that what they had was real. Hoping Aemond cared about her as deeply as she did him. For months all Mila wanted was to hear him tell her he loved her. Shouldn't that be anough now?

No. It isn't.

Because he's not the man she loves. Not anymore. Mila knows who she loves now, and it is not the man lying next to her.

Looking over at Aemond as he slept, Mila felt her stomach twist.

She shouldn't be here.

After throwing on her clothes hastily, she found herself speed-walking through the darkened mansion as her mind ran wild with thoughts of varying degrees of panic.

I fucked Aemond. I fucked my ex.

I love Aegon Targaryen.

"Miss Stark."

Mila bristles as she recognises the voice, turning around to see Otto Hightower standing in the doorway. He looks her over, an eyebrow raising in interest at her disheveled appearance.

"Hm." He hums, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Save it." Mila rolls her eyes, turning on her heel as she heads towards the foyer.

"Going to see Aegon?" His question stops her in her tracks, an icy chill sliding down her spine. Looking over her shoulder, she meets Otto's snake like gaze, a self satisfied smirk on his lips, "Tell him we'll see him soon."

"Leave him alone." Mila snaps, storming over to the man who, for a second, looks afraid, "Don't you ever try to force him into this role you made for him. We both know Viserys did not want Aegon to take over the company. You did. Because you think you can control him."

"Please-"

"It was Aemond at first." Mila interrupts him, "But now you know you can't control Aemond. That was made clear by him fucking Alys Rivers and fucking my relationship with him very publically."

Now Otto looks taken back, his usual smirk dropping slightly.

Mila smirks, "What? You think I didn't know? That you orchestrated our whole relationship to make us both look good? That went well, didn't it?"

"Whatever Aemond told you-"

"Aemond didn't tell me shit." Mila laughs, "I knew from the fucking start. Inviting my brother and I to that gala, sending Aemond off to flirt with me via cigarettes, him asking me out not two days later. You had this all planned out. But Alys wasn't in the cards, was she?"

"...No. She was not."

Mila smiles, with no joy to be found in it, "Yeah. She really fucked things up for all of us, huh? Well, her and Aemond."

Otto sits down, watching her as she crosses her arms.

"If Aemond had sticked by your rules, would you have wanted him to take over?"

"Doesn't matter what I want, Viserys was the head of the company."

"And who made the decisions for him when he became paralyzed from the waist down due to his medication?"

Otto smirks, nodding, "Alright. I yield. Yes, Aemond would have taken it over."

"And now, it's Aegons turn to play grandson of the year."

"He will ." He nods, "Larys has said he is driving down to the Beachouse. Took one of Viserys' cars, no less. By the end of this week, he will be getting dragged by his shirt collar back here, to take over the company."

"To play figure head while you take over the company."

The Hightower just smirks at her, humor evident in his eyes as he regards her. "You know a lot more than I realized." Otto says softly, quirking his head, "How?"

"Because I sit down and I listen." Mila rolls her eyes, "Figured that shit out when I was sixteen. People talk when they're drunk, when they're high, and when they think that the person listening to them is of no importance. Makes us people of no importance very powerful when they're around the right people yapping."

Otto watches her for a moment, the smallest of smiles on his lips. Taking this as her sign to leave, Mila rolls her eyes and turns on her heel, her head held high.

"I underestimated you." Otto calls after her, making her stop in her tracks, "She Wolf."

With a huff, Mila keeps walking.

Laena Targaryen was having a quiet night in, glass of wine in hand as she sat on her balcony on Driftmark.

Her daughters are on the mainland, and also both women in their early twenties, giving her nothing to worry about for the evening. Since she retired from modelling last year, she found many of her evenings were spent like this. Sitting in the sun,

Rhaenys walks out onto the patio, handing her the landline phone with an amused smirk. With a raised eyebrow, Laena takes it, blowing a kiss to her mother before she talks to whoever is on the phone.

"Hello?" Laena greets, taking a sip from her glass

"Can I borrow your car?" Mila stark asks.

AN// BEACH HOUSE, BEACH HOUSE, BEACH HOUSE.

I am my own worst enemy. My fingers had a mind of their own when they started writing that Aemond smut smh. I needed to give more to the Aemond girlies (me included), but don't worry there is still plenty more coming with bbg Aegon <3

Lula x

[hopelessromantic5]

Last one for the night.

Sorry for the content dump. 🫶

Regency AU clip. Arthur and Merlin inspired by Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma.

Arthur’s father, The Viscount, decided he had let Arthur ‘pursue fanciful whims’ long enough.

He wanted Arthur to find a wife this season.

Oh, joy.

It was for this reason, Arthur went for an early morning ride, to let out his overwhelming frustration and to get out of that blasted house with his siblings, more specifically, his elder sister and her eyes full of pity.

Morgana knew that Arthur wanted to hold out for love, the kind of love their own parents shared. Arthur felt it his duty to find someone who would one day become Viscountess, have his children and help him continue his family’s long-standing reputation.

The only problem, which isn’t really a problem, more of an inconvenience, was that Arthur didn’t like women, in the slightest. Romantically speaking, that is.

He found this out the hard way when his college mates tried to throw him into a room full of naked women.

Arthur was…curious. But nothing beyond that, women were a complete mystery to him so he was really just in awe of their natural bodies and how objectively beautiful they were.

But it did nothing. No part of him stirred or got excited. That’s when he started to become uncomfortable, because he’d always known, deep down, in a place no one ever sees.

He left rather quickly.

Thankfully, his friends had disappeared by then.

The ride led him farther into the woods than he usually went, but he knew his way around them.

He slowed his horse to a trot as he went lost in his thoughts.

That was quickly interrupted when he heard galloping approaching. Very fast.

Before he could think twice, the horse and the person riding it, raced just past Arthur, causing his own mare to stumble a bit.

Well, I’ve got to see what this is about.

That was the only thought to cross his mind before turning the other direction, taking off as fast as he could.

He spotted the horse and rider immediately. Arthur rode harder and urged the animal below him to follow.

He had almost caught up, when a branch that seemed to come from nowhere caught Arthur’s jacket and caused him to pull back on the reigns, involuntarily.

He slowed to a stop, laughing hysterically.

That was fun.

“You’re laughing a lot for someone who lost.” The voice was deep.

Arthur hadn’t realized the horse in front of him also slowed and stopped, unwilling to turn the opposite direction and face him.

Arthur took the stranger in, finally. All he could see was a blue cloak with the hood pulled up, hiding all identity.

The skilled hands gripping the reigns wore gloves.

“To be fair, we never agreed on a stopping point and that limb was interference, divinely guided as it may have been.”

“Oh, divinely guided, was it?” The man snickered, but it was closer to a giggle.

Arthur couldn’t read the stranger very well when he could not see him.

He took matters into his own hands and rode past the other man, then spun to see the horse-whisperer directly, face to face.

“Oh.”

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting.

But it was not to have his breath stolen.

He could not even see all of the man’s face, but what peaked out from under the hood was pale flawless skin and perfect pink lips.

Hooded eyes pointed to the ground between their two steeds.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who won.” Arthur quipped.

The man finally raised him eyes in a glare that didn’t hold much heat behind it.

God, those eyes.

Blue like the ice that forms from dripping water on the window sills. The lightest clearest parts of the ocean. Pure and endless.

Wow.

Arthur had never been struck by a person’s beauty before.

“You’re a complete stranger, what if you have ill intentions, or try to rob me blind?”

Arthur threw his head back in a laugh at this.

“You aren’t that inattentive. My intentions are pure, you have my word. I am a gentleman.” Arthur smirked at the blue eyed wonder. He got a small smile in return.

“Well, I have to be getting back.”

No.

Arthur’s whole body practically howled the word. He’s not unable to control himself.

“Will I see you again?”

The man was already turning around to return from the way they came.

“Perhaps you will, my lord.”

Arthur sputters.

“How did you know I was-“

“I’m not that inattentive.” The man called over his shoulder before tapping the side of his boot on the horses flank and taking off into the trees.

Well, that was truly something.

[rubywonu]

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 - 𝘅𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗮𝗼

summary: in which minghao flirted with a woman at an art exhibition without realizing that she was the artist.

pairing: xu minghao x fem!reader

genre: meet cute, museum au!.

warnings: talks about struggles people face in life, kinds sad?

w/c: 0.9k

nia’s notes: i do not know where i was going with this, it may be rushed, idek anymore. but enjoy!!

this is part of cutetober!

if anyone knew minghao it was because of his crazy love for paintings and art museums. so it didn't come as a surprise when minghao decided to spend an entire day at the 'everything falls' art exhibition by yn.

even if someone was slightly interested in art, they knew of yn. so when the opportunity to visit one of your exhibitions minghao rushed to the museum. it always amused him how everyone knew of your name but not your face.

minghao walked inside the museum and just by seeing the hue of orange and brown in his peripheral view, he was sure that today was going to be amazing.

minghao slowly walked over to the first painting, basking in all the emotions. the first painting showed leaves falling from the sky, each of them more dry than the previous one. minghao took a look at the name of the painting, 'as time flies'. it was obvious what the painting was conveying but the way it portrayed the message intrigued minghao.

minghao walked to the next painting and his mouth was wide open. painted on the canvas, was a woman, her back bare as she stared at multiple mirrors, each being broken in different ways and the women in the mirrors being older or younger than another.

now minghao had gone to his share of muesems and exhibitions but they never had such a mind-blowing way to convey one's emotions.

"failed and flawed." minghao turned his head to the woman walking towards him. "it's my favorite painting." it was an understatement to say that the woman walking towards minghao was pretty, in his eyes that woman was drop-dead gorgeous.

"i haven't seen any more of them but this has to be the best one so far." minghao turned back to the canvas and each time he looked at it, a new meaning behind it evoked in him. "what's your interpretation?"

"my interpretation is that this young woman looks at herself through different eras of her life and she remembers all her failed attempts in life and how her life was flawed but they calm down after she realizes the beauty of the falls in her life." you finished still looking at the painting in front of you, minghao's eyes never left you though.

he never thought about it like that and it made so much more sense now that he understood yet another version of it. "it makes so much more sense after having a beautiful woman explain it to me."

if minghao could, he wanted to slap his face. he didn't know why he said that and more importantly he was worried how you would take the spontaneous flirting. to his surprise, you laughed and played along. "i hope so, i don't explain my thoughts about my paintings to anyone, you know."

just as minghao was going to continue, he stopped right in his tracks. "my paintings? what does that mean."

you smiled and turned towards minghao, putting your hand out for him to shake. "im yn, the artist of the 'everything fall' collection."

minghao's mouth for the second time that day was wide open. "oh my god." he rushed to shake your hand.

"you're yn? that's amazing. i love your work. and about the flirting im so sorry. minghao what were you thinking?" minghao started to ramble and it added to your entertainment as you laughed.

"it's alright. i actually enjoyed it, to be honest." you smiled at him, and minghao felt like the world was going to end. you looked like you deserved your own painting, you were stunning.

"if it's alright to ask you, what was your inspiration for such an intriguing collection." minghao asked you the question you tried to avoid for the evening but you wanted to spill it all out to him, he felt comfortable.

"it's ok, just don't sell it to a publisher." you joked around and minghao cracked a smile at your answer. "last year, i took a trip around the country and visited a bunch of villages. during my stay, i met a group of women from different places who told me about their lives and the lessons they learned during their time on this planet. they told me about incidents that changed the trajectory of their lives either for the better or worse. that's why i chose to paint this, i chose to express their grief in brush strokes and paint, i guess while listening to them, i found out about the struggles in my life as well, either i didn't want to confront them or i never knew they existed."

"if you look at all the paintings you can see how mellow the messages behind the paintings get. it starts off rough and dark but as you walk by the pictures you can the gradual calm settling in, it shows the emotions that people feel when negativity strikes their lives. it shows the way people deal with those emotions." you finished your little speech and minghao was awestruck.

you talked about your paintings and minghao felt like he could listen to them forever. although it was your first meeting, minghao felt like the two of you met a long time back, it felt like the two of you shared the same soul.

you didn't realize then but for the rest of your life, you and minghao would go on for hours about your interpretation of paintings. the only thing that changed was that instead of being strangers, the both of you would be soulmates, and the both of you would fall deep in love all because of some paintings.

taglist: @caratlibrary . @caratsland . @kflixnet . @jyiiscool . @readingaddict420 . @pixieskie . @@anemoiant . @horanghae8 . @boooooseun . @wonwooz1 . @xomingyu . @bangchansbae .@weird-bookworm .

[daddyy333]

Neteyam Smut Blurb

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 1.8k

warnings: smut, thigh riding, p in v, small daddy kink, ?

summary: Y/n can’t help but notice her mate has been getting much stronger recently, and Eywa does it turn her on

anything in bold like this in the middle of a sentence means it’s either Na’vi or meant to be in Na’vi but I don’t trust the translation websites so I just use the few words I know and make do with it💀

“Hi gorgeous,” Neteyam said lowly, his accent sexier than ever. He’d been training all day, running through the forest with Lo’ak and working out using weird earth methods that Jake taught them. He found them quite strange sometimes but they seemed to be making him stronger so he didn’t mind too much.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed though. You had been practically drooling anytime you’d seen your mate as of late. You’d noticed his shoulders becoming more broad looking, his back muscles more defined, his abs becoming more prominent. He was asking you to make his arm band bigger every 2 or 3 weeks because his biceps were getting crazy big.

But his thighs. Oh god, if there’s anything that can get you going it’s Neteyam’s thighs. The way you can completely sit comfortably on one and still have some room. The way they squeeze your head slightly when you blow him cause he’s just too sexy and you can’t help yourself sometimes. The way they tense when you use them as leverage as you ride him. Even seeing them flex as he walks or sits or bends down, you just can’t handle it.

Neteyam obviously has noticed this as well but hasn’t said anything. He loved seeing you all googly eyes, ogling at his muscular figure and often lingering on his thighs. He found it adorable, you’d completely forget where you were or what you were doing because you were too busy admiring him.

“Hi..” you said, gaze dropping to his thighs for a moment. He was on a mat on the floor, manspreading and showing off his delicious thighs. He had one leg up, leaning against the wall of your tent as he watched you stare right at his thighs and dick. He smirked and said “come here, my love”

You blushed and slowly walked over. He sat up a little and gently pulled you in, patting his left thigh. You gasped slightly and lowered yourself onto his thigh, knees spreading on the mat below you. He smiled and caressed your cheek, brushing your hair out of your face.

You smiled softly at him, trying to ignore the arousal gushing out of you as you felt his thigh tense and felt him move it slightly underneath you. He smirked when you whimpered slightly, he knew he had you right where you wanted.

He kissed you softly and said “how was your day, love?” “G-Good” you said, resting your hand on his chest. He nodded and began to untie your loincloth. Your eyes widened and he said “what’d you do, huh?”

“Nete…” you whimpered and he just smirked. He bit his lip and said “tell me what you did today or I’ll stop. I know you like it. Can feel your heartbeat,” You gasped softly and he smiled. You blushed adorably, trying to hide your face.

He grabbed it and made you look in his eyes again, raising his eyebrows as he stopped undoing your loincloth. “I-I…I made breakfast w-with the Tsahík and some o-of the other women” you said as he reached for your kuru. He wiggled it slightly, asking if it was okay and you nodded. He made tsaheylu with you, making you gasped and shudder slightly, pussy fluttering already.

Then, he grabbed your hips, slowly urging you to ride his thigh. “Yea….who’d you make it with?” He asked and you whimpered. Your eyebrows furrowed and you gasped as your sensitive clit caught on his thigh, sending a shock of pleasure through you. “M-Menaí…and Lalo a-and Päsì”

“I see…and then what?” He asked and you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, resting them on his shoulders to try and ground yourself. You sighed harshly and said “then I…ohh, babe,”

“Tell me,” he whispered, kissing your jawline. You moaned softly and said “I went to…t-to the cre- ah! The creek!” He chuckled at how far gone you already were, setting your own pace now, his hands just resting on your thighs.

“Mm…it feels s-so good, Nete” you whimpered and he smiled. He moved his head and kissed you, pressing his forehead to yours after you broke the kiss to moan.

“I know, baby. I got you. What’d you do at the creek, tell me syulang” he said and you breathed shakily, scratching at his back slightly. You groaned and said “I…I hunted for f-fish….a-and made so-ome of the little ones a-a…a- ohh- a snack- fuck!”

“Mm…so kind, princess” he said and you bit your lip, whimpers and moans coming out uncontrollably. It just felt so good, and you couldn’t think about anything but cumming all over his thigh and you struggled to remember what you did today because of it.

He kissed you softly, just a quick peck to urge you to keep talking. “Th-then I…fuck- I checked up o-on some of t-the peoples wo-ounds” you said and he caressed your waist softly, squeezing every now and then.

“And then I…I spent the last f-few hours w-weaving…we- Neteyam! Oh Eywa…weaving a new t-top and m- mmm…I ca- I’m cumming! I’m cumming- shitshitshit! Nete!” You said and he smirked. He kissed you and worked you through it, feeling your cum gush out onto his thigh.

He smiled at your moans, hearing you scream his name and watching you roll your hips wildly to use him in order to get yourself off had him nearly ruining his loincloth. You slumped into his chest once you finally calmed down and he smiled leaning back letting you lay against him, rubbing your back.

“Nete…” you whispered softly. He hummed and said “what’s up, baby?” “Want it…” you said softly, pawing at his cock. He moaned unashamedly and said “what do you want, baby?”

“I want your dick…want you to fuck me” you said, obviously tired but still begging for more. He smiled and said “lay down, baby. I’ll take care of you, promise”

You whimpered and laid next him, panting softly as he untied his loincloth and removed his battle band and knife holder. He chuckled and said “look at the mess you made on me baby”

You blushed and he leaned down, cupping your cheek and kissing you softly. He got on top, resting between your thighs that you spread wide open for him. “Been noticing you stare at me lately. Can’t seem to keep your eyes off of me” he said smugly.

You rolled your eyes and he kissed you softly, caressing your thigh. You cupped his cheeks to deepen it but he pushed the tip of himself into you and you gasped, squeezing his biceps as your eyes widened, looking up at him with pinched brows as your pussy fluttered around his cock.

“Mm, baby…already squeezing me,” he said and chuckled, kissing your head. You whimpered and he pushed in slowly, getting about halfway before sliding out and thrusting back in again, pushing further till he was balls deep.

“So big…” you whimpered and pawed at his chest and arms, trying to adjust to his size. He caressed your cheek and said “shhh, baby…it’s okay. Daddy’s here. You can take it, I know you can” he said, kissing you softly.

You moaned as he pressed on the tummy bulge, slowly starting to thrust. You squeezed his shoulders, already begging him to go faster. “Don’t get greedy, baby. Take what daddy gives you, okay?” He said and you bit your lip, nodding.

You were squirming slightly, trying to get more out of him. He grunted and held your hips down, fucking you even slower. He scoffed and said “Be patient, my love. You don’t want to be punished do you?”

You shook your head no, but you almost did. You wanted it rough and fast, wanted to watch his abs flex as he fucked into you and his arms flex as he held himself up above you and played with your little clit.

You grabbed his face, slowly making out with him as he started to get lost in the kiss and finally sped up. It always worked, he’d get excited and would fuck you like an animal. “Fuck, babe…always know how to get what you want” he chuckled and shook his head.

You moaned loudly as he gave in, grabbing your hands and intertwining your fingers and pushing them above your head as he thrusted fast and hard. He was nearly pushing you forward with every thrust, but it felt so fucking good. You wrapped a leg around his hips, making him go harder if that was even possible.

“Nete…so good, so good!” You mumbled, tears spilling from your cheeks as you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts. It felt too fucking good, and then he moved one hand to rub your sensitive clit and you lost your mind.

Moaning wildly, you frantically kissed Neteyam, begging him not to stop. “Just like that…oh Eywa, I’m so close- Nete!” You said and he grunted, his cock throbbing in your wet pussy. He kissed your cheek and said “I know baby…can hear how wet you are, all for daddy. You gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm- mmm- yes! Yes, Nete!” You said and whined, right on the edge of cumming. You were almost getting frustrated, you were so close but you couldn’t get there. “Nete…Nete it’s not enough!” You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Daddy will make you cum” he said and changed the angle of his hips, pressed down on your lower belly and rubbed your clit as fast as he could, really making sure to try and hit your g-spot.

Your moans grew louder as you closed your eyes, squeezing his arm and shoulder really hard, focusing on trying to cum. “Shit- oh Eywa I think I-…ahhh! Neteyam- Nete- uhh!” You moaned as you squeezed his cock hard, nearly forcing him out of you because of how hard you came.

He kissed you and then came with a grunt of your name, burying his head in your neck as he spilled inside you. He always came for so long and there was always so much, it turned you on even more. “Fuck, babe I- ohhh,” he moaned, panting hard as he nearly collapsed ontop of you from the exhaustion of his orgasm.

Both of you were panting, trying to come back to reality. You were still buzzing with arousal but you knew Neteyam had just had a particularly good orgasm and would need some time before round 2. “Eywa, I love this fucking pussy. So tight, so wet,” he said as he reluctantly pulled out with a soft groan. “so perfect.” he finished.

“Only for you, daddy” you whimpered, looking up at him with those big, round eyes that always looked at him with so much adoration and affection. He shook his head, kissing you because Eywa you were so adorable he wanted to kiss your whole face a million times over.

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[monikashinswife]

omg omgggg i love ur monika fic and i need moreee 😭🙏🙏

Ask and you shall receive<3

(also she looks so tiny hereeeee)

"If you really love me, get me a husband next teachers day."

-this is inspired by the Street Woman Fighter 1 Gala Talk show, when one of her students brought the Teacher's Day incident. Enjoy reading<33

Everyone knows how Monika has been single for a very long time. And it has been a constant topic whenever she gets interviewed by hosts. It was almost too much, but Monika answered them enthusiastically.

The constant bringing up of her love life was also briefly brought up during the gala talk show of season 1 of Street Women Fighter. Where the powerful ladies were there to have fun. During one of the segments, everyone gets to ask the leaders a question.

One of Monika's students brought up the teacher's day incident. Which made Monika tear up because of how she felt during those times. And to make it up to her. She then told them playfully "If you really love me, get me a husband next teacher's day."

Monika didn't know that it was coming for her. After the success of Street Woman Fighter, opportunities were given left and right and they kept coming. Monika was invited to many interviews and most of them asked about her love life. And like always, Monika would talk about how she still doesn't have a boyfriend.

They kept going throughout the year and it was always a delight for Monika.

And speaking of opportunity, yours came when Kirsten. One of your close friends invited you to join her for Street Woman Fighter Season 2. Kirsten drags you to join her since you've been dancing together for a very long time. And who are you to refuse your best friend?

With that, Jam Republic Crew is formed with other members. It was destiny, you thought. To be with these very people. You were very excited about this new adventure.

And that adventure would be going back to South Korea. You immediately contacted Lip J. Telling her that you would be going back to Korea, but without telling her the reason. As it is said by the staffs.

You and Hyo Won met in a competition in New Zealand. You were attached after that. You continue to contact each other even if you're living across multiple countries from each other that doesn't stop you from being friends.

With Hyo Won's influence, you started learning her language. It's been a while since you saw each other. It was very clear when your squeals and screams could be heard throughout the area where the passing people saw two best friends hugging each other like lunatics.

"Oh my fucking God I missed you!!" You exclaimed once the hug was broken. Lip J's eyes can't be seen from how wide she's smiling.

"We literally Facetime each other almost every night!" She answered, but you both know you missed each other. You're each other's therapist.

"You know you missed me" I winked at her and she gave me a disgusted look. I gave a mock offense before I lightly slapped her arm and we burst out laughing. After that interaction, our day started. We pamper ourselves with things that we both love doing. Knowing that this is something we don't often do together.

" would you like it if I invited you to one of our dance classes?" Lip J asked casually while eating her ice cream. I look at her while also eating mine, "with PROWDMON?" I asked, she hummed and I nodded. Hyo won quickly grabbed my arm to drag me back to the parking lot.

"Hey, where are you taking me?" I whined while I followed her like a child being dragged by her mom. "To our studio" she answered casually. "Dressed like this?" I pointed to what I was wearing, she quickly scanned my tight-fitting dress before shrugging. "I'll borrow some spare clothes if that's the case. And besides, this is the first time I'm taking you to our studio. It's teachers day and I have to give this gift to Monika Unnie."

"Is it okay?" I asked carefully, making sure that I wouldn't be a bother when we got there. I understand that it's an important day and they must be doing an event to celebrate their mentor.

"Yes, but you know what's not okay?" Hyo Won suddenly sounded serious. "What?" She chuckled at my hurried response. "You, not meeting Monika even though we've been friends for so long." I stopped whatever I was doing on my phone to look at her.

"Holy shit, you're right!" I laughed loudly because of the situation. I never met her best friend and what an odd situation that is, considering we often FaceTime.

And just like that, the car ride was full of singing and talking. That was until we arrived at their studio. I can't help but feel excited. Wordlessly, Lip J passed me the gift that she was supposed to give to Monika and we went in.

"Unnie!" Shockingly we heard a loud call. We both looked around when we entered the practice room. I automatically smiled when the students hugged their unnie. "Oh, my-" I gave them a wave as a greeting and I giggled at their shocked reaction.

They all squealed when they saw you. How could they not? You are an icon when it comes to dancing. And it was a pleasant surprise as the students were also a fan of your work.

Monika, overwhelmed by the warm greeting from her students, looked pleasantly surprised to see you with Lip J in the studio. Her students, not wanting to waste any time, immediately handed her the gift they'd prepared for Teacher's Day.

Lip J, with a playful grin, nudged you forward, introducing you to Monika. "Monika Unnie, this is Y/n. She's a dear friend of mine and has joined us for today's dance class."

Monika, still in a state of disbelief, accepted the gift from her students and then turned her attention to you. "Nice to meet you, Y/n. I've heard so much about you from Lip J. Thank you for being here with us on this special day."

You exchanged pleasantries and chatted with Monika and her students. As the class began, you watched Monika in action, impressed by her teaching skills and her close bond with her students.

After the class, Monika approached you and Lip J. "Thank you both for coming today. It means a lot to me. How about we grab a meal together to celebrate Teacher's Day?"

As the sunset and the city lights began to twinkle, the atmosphere between you and Monika started to take on a more romantic hue. The restaurant you chose had an intimate ambiance, and the three of you shared a cozy corner table.

Monika's students, sensing the chemistry between the two of you, excused themselves, leaving you and Monika alone. The soft glow of the candlelight and the background music set the mood for a heartfelt conversation.

Monika, her eyes reflecting the warm light, looked at you and said, "You know, I didn't expect this Teacher's Day to turn into such a beautiful surprise. Meeting you here, spending this evening together—it's been so special."

You gazed into her eyes, feeling a strong connection, and replied, "I feel the same way, Monika. There's something truly magical about how we met today. I've heard so much about you from Hyo Won, and I can see why she admires you so much."

A faint blush tinted Monika's cheeks, and she smiled, her fingers gently tracing the rim of her wine glass. "I must admit, I've enjoyed our conversation and the time we've spent together. Y/n, I hope we can get to know each other better."

Your heart skipped a beat as you took Monika's hand across the table. "I'd love that, Monika. Maybe we could do this again sometime, just the two of us?"

Monika's eyes sparkled with excitement as she nodded. "I would like that."

The evening continued with shared stories, laughter, and a connection that seemed to grow stronger by the minute. By the time the night came to a close, you and Monika had taken the first step towards a blossoming romance, all because of a playful challenge, an unexpected visit, and the magic of a serendipitous encounter.

Maybe the reason why she still doesn't have a husband is because she is destined to have a wife.

-

(not proofread)

[chuckeroo777]

Dungeon Meshi Volume 13 Part 2

Welcome back! Things are about to get crazy, so let's dive right in!

Is it any wonder the community unanimously decided this was Marcille's chimera-sona? She's cute, she's sky-fish adjacent, she has a flower crown (A hallmark of only the most mentally stable characters). What's not to love? And as Mithrun will agree, snake women are sexy.

Later, Kabru suspects Laios stumbled into saving the world, but my man was seriously planning six steps ahead. He came up with the ultimate plan to kill the ultimate monster.

Marcille is understandably upset that the lion stole her cool outfit. She wanted to show that to Falin later!

Nothing personal kid.

The demon isn't malevolent my ass. It knows what Mithrun wants. It just can't be assed to bother.

I know the right page is the important one, but oh my god. Laios, did you seriously doodle blueprints of your stupid "Falin lives in a hole now" plan? Did you seriously doodle your "female faligon" idea?

Anyway, as is tradition with ultimate chimera appearances, here is another one of my creatures!

I'll leave it to the viewer to try and figure out what inspired this freak.

Of course Laios' takeaway from the succubus was that Scyllas are cool. Fun fact, some of these details are actually relevant. The ability to change shape is apparently how he managed to return to human form, and the poop thing explains why New Melini is forested despite being underwater for 1000 years.

Marcille isn't even surprised at this point. Just deeply disappointed.

Toshiro, why are you smiling? Kabru, that looks more like awe than fear.

Bitch, I'm fabulous.

Marcille, you're the one who created the monster that vores people, that's it's whole job.

Don't worry Marcille. This disaster is due to an incredibly complex confluence of unpredictable events. In other words, it's everybody's fault! Hooray!

God, this is so funny.

Leave my boy alone! At least we can all agree the collar is cool.

Oh, that's a neat detail. Time is stopped for all the humans, but the monsters can still move.

When I first read this, I thought the plan was that now that the lion is in a finite body, we can eat it. Like, I thought that was how it was going to end as soon as they swapped. But Laios is way ahead of me.

Good to see the rest of the party came to the same conclusion I did. And Marcille's eyes are still on the prize.

Famous last words.

Rude.

Yeah, but we're expressing a desire regarding his treatment you raging douche-muffin. You're freaking infinite. We've seen you have the power to pacify monsters peacefully.

It's so fitting, that Laios, our favorite dog, saved the world by eating something he really shouldn't have.

👏Full Circle!👏

Oh Marcille. I'd have thought you'd have learned by now to have a little more faith in your brother-in-law.

Ah, dungeon food. To eat is the privilege of the living. There is no hierarchy.

That sounds like the words of a loser to me.

And that's it for volume 13! Didn't have as much to say as I thought I might. Guess this climax speaks for itself. What a powerful and thematic ending to the demon. See why I'm having trouble figuring out what direction to take my AU? Figuring out the changes to monster of the week chapters is easy. Figuring out how to do the big thematic battles against Thistle and the Demon are hard. It's hard to imagine anyone but Laios prevailing against such opponents.

Anyway, see you next time for the finale! Here, have a couple of extra Marcilles. I thought I would need more of them.

Cannibalism?

A precious image.

[drunkenlionwrites]

Prince!Vash x Knight reader. The beginning. (Royal AU)

Warnings: none, sfw, fem! reader

Imagine being a middle child growing up in a minor noble family. With an older brother, who you admire deeply and trying to repeat everything after him: taking a liking to swordsmanship, fighting and being a wild child of a family.

Having been accepted the way you are and doted upon by your mother and father, but still being reminded of your future duties and a role in society, you’ll have to accept. Trying to indulge in your hobbies and spar with your brother’s teacher and the soldiers who served your family while you still can.

That is, until your younger sister is born – and oh god, to your and your parents’ happiness she’s a complete opposite of you. An angelic child with sweet disposition and zero interest in something that’s not suitable for a young lady. This makes you love your sister more and more as she grows up. Not that you wouldn’t love her without your little ulterior reason.

That’s when your family cuts you a slack now that they have your sister to marry off (happily, as your both parents hope) to another family and strengthen your family’s position in the tumultuous life of the nobility intrigues.

Since that you’ve been invested in your skills much more at the young age of 12, honing your swordsmanship and now being able to even disarm your brother time after time to his amusement.

Women being knighted or at least serving in the army is not unheard of, but not a common affair, still being frowned upon by some people. No less lethal in most cases, so your parents just hope that your desires change as you age, even though your already calloused hands and sting built say otherwise.

You’ve never thought deeply about what you’re going to apply your skills to, still possessing the child’s naivete and just enjoying your childhood.

That is, until you’re old enough to attend a court with your parents at a social gathering, when turning fourteen. Seeing the Queen and two princes, though not as inspired of the event as your younger sister that’s pouting at you and your parents that she’s to stay home till she’s grown up to be able to.

Seeing the Queen emerging down the stairs to take a seat at her throne, accompanied by her two sons – crown prince Nai and his younger brother prince Vash, you’re still interested to take a good look at the royals, also chanting the words you need to say after being officially presented at the court the first time, mentally bringing up the correct way of bowing in front of them.

Seeing the dignified walk and impeccable posture of Nai, who looks the age of your brother, you later dart your eyes to his younger brother following his family sheepishly with an uneasy smile on his face. ‘It’s also his first time.’ Your father informed you before coming to the palace. So you take relief in fact that you’re not the only one feeling the unease at this gathering.

That’s when you see the young prince stumbling down, being supported by his older brother, who’s been bearing a slightly condescending smile the whole time, followed by barely audible murmurs, and suppressed smiles of all the observants.

Seeing the blush and an awkward laugh from the boy, something clicks inside of you, and you think to yourself: “That’s it. That’s what I want to protect.”

Heeey I'm returning back to writing and want to start with more headcanons of my silly little Royal AU. Sorry these headcanons are more reader-centric but I'm cooking a multichapter fic in the AU and just have a lot going on in my head. Want to share the "how it all started" so it is more from a reader's perspective this time.

[moralesmilesanhour]

what you're searching for.

summary: Margo goes to a shitty poetry slam and gets more out of it than she expects. wc: 4.9k warnings: alcohol consumption, and it's like very VERY lightly implied that they had an Adult Sleepover if you get my meaning. Nothing really too suggestive in here I promise. One singular reference to a tiktok. a/n: this took me a whole ass week but I'm very proud of where my writing style is going! somewhat inspired by the film 'Love Jones'. If you enjoyed this pls feel free to leave your thoughts or your favorite line if you have one! EDIT: OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO ADD: the first poem is actually taken from the Junior novel 'Miles Morales: Suspended' by Jason Reynolds! The poem at the end is mine though lmao I'm not the best poet

Margo can’t stand poetry.

Someone gets up in front of you with a piece of paper clutched in their hands, and recites what is simultaneously the most vague and the most painfully obvious string of fragmented sentences you’ve ever heard as if they’d just touched your soul.

It’s not rapping, not preaching, but the ugly middle child standing between them. Some odd bastardization of music for people who thought they were too smart for either of the first two, but weren't brave enough to just give speeches.

Speeches, at least, are coherent, specific, and can be scrutinized.

So far, sitting in the front row of the bar that her classmate Zoe had invited her to for poetry night, no one has changed her mind. 

Tonight’s performances consisted of an assembly line of men (and a couple of women) in vintage sweaters ranting about their exes to the rhythm of bongo drums, or some mildly relevant social issue that none had the lexicon to really say anything in stanzas that hasn’t already been said. She had heard nothing yet that sounded much more profound than an Instagram post.

Although, one girl had come up and recited a short poem about her late mother that Margo thought was quite sweet, and the least tortuous to sit through.

The crowd erupted in snaps again for a poet with long braided dreads and an ankh tattoo whose words she had tuned out. The host took the mic and announced the final (thank god) participant:

“Now this next one I had to practically drag over here to get him to share his beautiful poetry with us tonight. Everyone, please give a warm welcome to one of my close friends and colleagues, Miles Morales!”

A lanky young man–Margo suspects about six feet even, given the way he’s towering over the host–awkwardly shuffles over to the center of the stage, offering the crowd a tight-lipped smile. 

He’s in a plain green sweater with the sleeves hastily rolled up to his elbows and a bomber jacket tied around his waist. As soon as he’s handed the microphone, it seems to dawn on him that there’s no turning back, and his body visibly tenses. 

He clearly just got here, and for once Margo doesn’t know what to expect.

Squinting beneath the bright spotlight, he clears his throat and speaks into the mic. 

“Um, hi.”

A few scattered ‘hi’s from the crowd.

There’s something bright and sweet in the tone of his voice that makes him sound a little boyish, and she wonders what he could possibly have under his sleeve that warranted him getting dragged up here last minute.

He takes a deep breath.

“It’s said

That nobody

Is ever more

Than ten feet

From a spider.”

Miles began the poem carefully, like he was confessing something. 

“They be everywhere you and me are.”

A few members of the crowd laugh, others shudder at the thought and frown. 

“And even though

We see them only

When they big enough to see, or when

They move,

Like a cursor

Across the blank white

Page of a wall…”

His voice loses some of its airiness in exchange for confidence as he recites the rest of the poem, and Margo realizes that he isn’t reading off of anything. 

Either he’s improvising, or he has it entirely memorized.

“Or when we trip

The web-like wire

Of a booby trap

Or when they

Fang our flesh

We should probably

Assume most

Just be right there…”

Miles paused and looked somewhere far beyond the crowd, lifting his arm to point to the back of the room. Then he repeated:

“Right there,

Right here,”

He gestures toward the front row, where his eyes land directly on Margo. It’s not so close to the stage that she can tell for sure, but she thinks she sees a hint of a smile cross his lips.

“Looking at us,

Looking over them.”

Silence. 

His arm falls limply to his side as his eyes frantically scan the audience, searching for some kind of response. 

Then, someone begins to clap. Then another. Then another. WIthin moments, the entire room erupts in applause, causing a shy smile to spread across the young man’s face.

“Uh, thank you!” he says, surprised at the positive reception, before shrinking into himself again and leaving the stage the same way he came.

The host returns and takes the mic from him.

“Miles Morales, everybody!”

-

After the poetry slam, Margo insisted that Zoe take her to the sushi place across the street. It had a bar sitting off to the side, one with significantly less poets. The decorative lights hung directly above the shelf filled with glass bottles and shrouded them in cherry red.

Zoe takes a sip of her sherry and leans in.

“Sooo, how was it?”

“It was a’ight.”

The light-skinned girl’s lips pull into a pout. “Seriously?”

“Hey, I told you poetry wasn’t my thing,” Margo pauses, then amends, “I liked the last guy, though. Breath of fuckin’ fresh air.”

“Right? His style really caught my attention, subtle.”

“Glad you liked it.”

Zoe’s eyes widened as she glanced just beyond Margo’s shoulder.

When Margo turned towards the familiar voice and froze. 

The poet in question was standing just inches away, a friendly smile gracing his features. His jacket is no longer around his waist, neatly folded over his arm like an expensive coat. He is with the excitable darker-skinned man who’d just hosted the event, and a man the shade of sandalwood standing just behind him.

They’re both wearing the same type of muted cardigan as Miles, but they’ve got actual coats.

“Y’all were in the front, right?” Miles asks the both of them, though he’s only looking at Margo.

She nods wordlessly. Zoe picks up the slack.

“M-hm, you were great up there! You’ve really never shown anyone your work ‘till tonight?”

Miles snorts at the wording of the phrase. ‘His work’.

“I wrote that poem in high school,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, but my roommate…” 

He gives the dark-skinned man a dirty look. 

“...swiped my journal and found it. Told me I should read it out loud somewhere.”

Margo examines Miles’ face and imagines him as a baby-faced high-schooler, sitting in the back of the classroom with a protective arm around the beat-up red composition notebook he’s writing in. He stuffs it in his bag as soon as he’s done, because he has just poured his heart out onto that page, and his crush’s name is in there. Maybe there are tiny doodles of her in the margins.

“Yo,” the sandalwood-colored man claps Miles on the shoulder. “We about to hit up Tiff’s place, you coming?”

“Yeah, in a minute,” Miles nods dismissively. “I’ll catch up with y’all.”

The two other men give each other a knowing look before brushing past him.

“Alright man, catch you later then.”

Once she finally regains the ability to speak, Margo remarks, “You were the only performance I really liked, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that so?” 

“Oh yeah, this one hates poetry,” Zoe places a hand on Margo’s shoulder and laughs. “Tried to change her mind by bringing her over here, but no dice.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “What made mine so different?”

“Hm, I dunno…” Margo’s eyes float over his form before making their way back up to his face. “Your delivery, I guess.”

Safe to say, he looks amusedly unconvinced.

“My…delivery.”

She catches herself and quickly adds, “I-I mean, it also kinda felt like everyone else was trying too hard. So.”

He tilts his head at the remark.

“Are you just saying that to flatter me?”

.“I don’t flatter people. Too close to lying.”

“That sounds like half a poem already. Maybe you should go up there next week.”

She gives him a lopsided smile.

“Only if you’re there. I need something to actually look forward to.”

His tongue darts out and passes over his lips.

“What’s your name?”

“Margo.”

Miles hums, softly repeating the name before inching his way over to the counter where he leans his hip on it.

“Pretty. Can I buy you a drink, Margo?”

She doesn’t think her name is all that pretty, but he makes it sound that way.

“Knock yourself out.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Zoe teases as she rises from her seat. “I’m gonna go order us some sushi.”

Miles takes the stool to Margo’s left as he waits on their drinks, his long legs never needing to leave the ground to do so.

He has a funny way of sitting, hands folded neatly in front of him with his back just a few degrees off from being perfectly straight. As if you needed to look distinguished at a sushi bar.

Church boy, Margo guessed. That, or his daddy’s a military man.

It’s adorable either way.

“You in school?” she asked.

“Yup. Princeton.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Oh shit, me too! I’ve never seen you on campus, though. What’s your major?”

“Physics. You?”

“Comp Sci. Been coding since I was in middle school, so…”

Margo remembers the echoing ‘click-clack’ of her keyboard as she sat in an empty computer lab for hours on end after school because she preferred it to her parents’ house.

The bartender hands Miles two glasses of white wine, and he sets the second glass in front of Margo, his warm eyes still focused on her. 

She’s intrigued by how clear they are - no trace of suspicion or calculation behind them. Just the warmth.

“So, where you from? My folks are over in Brooklyn.”

“Georgia.”

Miles’ brows jump to his hairline.

“Damn. What brought you all the way up here?”

To get as far away as possible. 

“Well, it’s Princeton,” she says beneath a forced laugh.

“Yeah, but you got, like, eight different HBCUs over there. How’d Princeton win you over?”

Margo breaks eye contact to stare into her drink.

“Needed a change of pace.”

When she looks up to gauge Miles’ reaction, skepticism is written all over his face. But he doesn’t push it further.

“That’s fair. Princeton’s got a cutting-edge quantum physics program that I’m aiming for. Had to beg my parents to come here,” he grins proudly, “but here I am.”

Margo is silent for a moment.

“Can I tell you something?” she asks suddenly, beckoning Miles to lean in.

“Yeah?”

Grinning, she half-whispers, “I’m actually here on a scholarship.”

He gives her an odd look. 

“Why’d you say it like that? Nothin’ wrong with getting a full ride. The opposite, actually.”

“Some people might feel otherwise. You’re like, the second person I’ve told other than my parents.”

“And why me?” Miles chuckles. “My poetry was just that good?”

“I just…Hm.”

Margo leans back and takes a contemplative sip of her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass. 

Why did she just tell him that?

“I guess I just sorta felt like telling you.”

Margo cautiously sets the wine back down. She figures if she’s not careful, he’ll have her full government name and social security number by the end of the night.

“Y’know, I actually get that a lot,” Miles laughs. “One time, I had this lady I was standing in line with at Target turn around and just start telling me stories about her dead son and how much she misses him. And it’s like, I’m sorry for your loss, but we’re in Target right now and I literally do not know you.”

“Wait, people just go up to you and…tell you shit?”

“Yup. There was this other time at church, too. Just as service ends and I’m about to get up and leave, this short old dude–Dominican, I think–stops me and starts telling me about his entire life. I’m talking start to finish! Apparently I reminded him of his nephew that died in the military or something.”

“Jesus.”

A crease forms between Margo’s brows. She wishes she could say she didn’t understand the old man at church or the lady at Target, but she does. No, it’s not the poetry. It’s got nothing to do with words. 

It’s the way that Miles looks at people. 

Like he already knows all of your secrets, but you’re not worried because they’re safe with him, so might as well tell them. It’s a merciful sort of gaze; you get the impression that he won’t judge you. You might even tell him more after his friendly ‘boy-next-door’ voice coaxes them out of you. The thought unsettles her because she had done just that.

“You ever had a girlfriend before?” She asks, all of a sudden.

Miles shrugs, “Yeah, in tenth grade, then again freshman year. Didn’t really work out.”

“Why not?”

His brows furrow gently for just a second, as if he’s still trying to figure out the answer to that.

“I…don’t know, actually. It goes well the first few months and then…”

“It fizzles out?”

“I get ghosted. Something about how they’re ‘not ready’. Understandable, I guess, but you don’t have to ghost me, y’know?”

He awkwardly examines his fingers, then his glass. 

Margo feels a bit guilty for suddenly bringing up his exes when they’d just met. Would they end up the same way? She saw herself there too, being in a relationship for six months before his weird pastor’s eyes get to be a bit too much and she takes off.

“Yikes, sorry I asked.”

“It’s no problem,” a smile starts to return to his face. “Onto better things, right?”

“Right.”

“And you?”

“Huh?”

“You ever been in a relationship before?”

Margo smiles awkwardly and messes with one of her fingernails.

“Well…not exactly.”

Miles’ eyes widen.

“Never?”

“I mean, guys offer, and then we talk for a little bit, but then…”

“They flake out on you.”

“Pretty much.”

“Damn shame,” he says with a bit of sharpness to his voice. “Not even a first date?”

“Nope, just ‘Read at 4:15’.”

“You know what I think it is?”

Just as he asks this, his knee brushes against her thigh. Margo isn’t sure if it’s an accident, but it distracts her nonetheless.

“What?”

“You’re too smart for them, I can tell. It scares ‘em.” But it doesn’t scare me, is the suggestion.

He smiles then, the kind that shows the whiteness of his teeth on every vowel. It’s wide enough that a dimple comes out of hiding on his left cheek, and she suddenly wants to tell him everything again. She takes another sip of wine.

“So! What’d I miss?”

Zoe finally returns from ordering their sushi at the front with an expectant grin. Miles still hasn’t taken his eyes off of her friend, while she is staring at him like a string of code, which, if you know Margo, is better than nothing.

“You didn’t miss much,” says Margo. “We were just talkin’ about our majors. School stuff.”

Miles checks his phone and lets out a low whistle.

“Well, it was lovely meeting y’all, but I gotta bounce. After getting dragged onstage, I get to be dragged over to a house party, too.”

Just as he rises from his seat, he stops and points at her.

“Before I go, though, d’you mind giving me your digits? I’d love to talk about, uh…computer science…over lunch.”

She snorts, “Who still says ‘digits’?” but hands him her phone anyway. 

It couldn’t hurt to try. 

“Sure.”

His eyes light up as if he wasn’t expecting her to say yes as he saves his number as ‘poetry slam guy’ in her phone, then hands it back.

“Cool,” Miles begins his walk towards the entrance backwards, holding eye contact for just a little longer before turning around. “G’night!”

“Goodnight!” the two women call out in unison as he leaves.

Margo looks to her left at the now-empty bar stool. The glass of wine Miles left on the counter is full, completely untouched.

It’s still on her mind as she's sitting in her single dorm room, re-writing her lecture notes on cyber security in a meticulous neat print that could almost pass for a font.

Every few minutes her pen stops because she’s distracted by the sound of clinking glass in boxes downstairs, or because she pauses to stare at the white wall in front of her that brings to mind one of the lines of Miles’ poem. 

There might be a spider that I can’t see sitting ten feet away from me right this second, she muses to herself. The thought gives her an idea, and the perfect excuse to call him without seeming too desperate.

Margo unlocks her phone and scrolls through her contacts. She smiles to herself at the contact name Miles chose. Did he think she’d forget his name that easily? 

His voice soon filters through the speaker.

“Hey, you didn’t throw out my number!”

“Yup, lucky you.” she replies. “I wanted to ask you a question? About your poem the other night.”

“What about it?”

“See, I was thinking about that first line. Are we really never more than ten feet away from a spider? Like, at any given moment?”

There’s a moment of silence from Miles before he asks:

“You…called me just to ask me that?”

“What? It’s a very pressing issue! There’s probably one in the corner  of my room as we speak!”

“Alright, I’ll humor you,” Miles laughs. “That’s actually a myth from the 90s. Your distance from the nearest spider really depends on where you’re at, so if you’re in a spot with hella bugs, you’re more likely to see one. You’re probably fine.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Margo gasps dramatically. “So you lied to all those poor folks in there?”

“Sure did. Played ‘em all like a fiddle.”

“Terrible.”

“So, why’d you really call? You don’t sound as concerned about spiders as you say you are, if I’m being honest.”

So much for an excuse.

“Don’t nothing get past you, huh?”

This earns a burst of laughter from Miles’ end.

“You’re a worse liar than me, I wouldn’t recommend making it a habit.”

“Ugh, fine,” Margo admits,  “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You could hear my voice in real life, you know. Offer’s still on the table, and I’m free today.”

Their second conversation, and already a lunch date? But as she’s reminded of what his voice sounds like, she quickly realizes that just the voice is not enough. 

Still, she tries to sound casual and makes a non-committal noise.

“Better than being cooped up in my room all day.”

“Great! Where you wanna go?”

Margo shrugs as if he can see her on the other end.

“Wherever you wanna go.”

“Ah, the ‘wherever you wanna go’ paradox,” he chuckles. “Okay, well–lemme ask you this then. Do you like eating with or without music?”

There’s a beat of silence as she considers.

“Hm…is the music good?”

“I’d never subject anyone to a place that plays shit music. Promise.”

“Music, then.”

“Cool, what time works for you?”

“How does two sound? I’ll catch you in front of the Engineering Library.”

“Bet. See you in an hour, then!”

-

The place Miles chose had a live band playing at the front.

A bass player, a keyboard pianist, a saxophonist, and a few background vocalists on occasion. All are propelled forward by the rapid-fire snare of the drummer. It’s jazz - the easy, conversational kind you hear in the background of 90s romantic comedies where the love interest wears nothing but dark lip liner and filled-in brows with a bit of smokey eyeshadow in the crease.

This is the look that Margo has decided to go for as she sits across from Miles at a mahogany table positioned ideally by the window.

It was all she could do other than frantically adjust the braided 'fro-hawk sitting atop her head and spin around in a mist of ‘Champagne Toast’ before bolting out the door.

She doubts he can even smell it right now through the curry and garlic.

“Figured out what you want yet?” Miles asks as he looks over his menu at Margo.

“Eh, I dunno,” she replies, running her index finger down her own menu. “I’m tryin’ not to blow half my paycheck on pasta right now.”

Miles gives her a strange look, then it clicks.

“Oh! Lunch is on me,” he laughs. “Your bank account’s safe for now.”

Her head snaps up.

“You should’ve mentioned that! I thought we were going half and half this whole time, I had my whole budget for the week planned out.”

Margo has to hold back an ugly cackle at the look of horror on Miles’ face right after she says this.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

With this new information in mind, she orders a bowl of chicken alfredo with a glass of lemonade that she sips on as the band seamlessly transitions into a cover of Solange’s ‘Cranes in the Sky’.

“So, Margo,” Miles rests his chin on his knuckles and squints his eyes comically. 

“If that is your real name.”

Margo giggles, and plays along.

“It’s not, it’s my alter-ego for when I go on top-secret missions.”

“Is it short for something? Or just Margo?”

“Hm,” she puts on an affected, ‘action movie’ voice, “If I tell you, I might have to kill you.”

“It’s worse ways to die out there.”

Margo looks around her as if to make sure no one’s listening, then leans in.

“It’s short for Marguerite.”

Miles snaps his fingers.

“I knew it!”

“What? You think I look like a Marguerite? Seriously?”

“No, but you got a lil’ country twang in your voice. Ain’t no way in hell Margo wasn’t short for something.”

“Man, alright,” she laughed. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” he winked, “I like ‘em country.”

“Boy, don’t give me that! You look like you’d pass out at the sight of a jar of pig’s feet.”

“Hey now, I got family in South Carolina. I used to go down there and see about ten of those every summer.”

“Fine, but you were still raised a Northerner. I could hear the Brooklyn from a mile away.”

Miles removed his hand from under his chin to clutch his chest.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m caught between two worlds!”

The reference to one of the more choice lines from the poetry slam makes Margo snort and let out a loud guffaw, which she quickly muffles with the palm of her hand.

“Why would you remind me of that!”

Miles is soon infected by the fit of laughter and has to put all his strength into not doubling over at the table and drawing attention.

“This nigga said,” he wheezed, “ ‘I keep doing the Achy Breaky to Suavemente!’ “

“I thought I was the only one who thought that shit sucked,” Margo sighed as she wiped a tear from her eye. “But I didn’t wanna be mean ‘cuz I’m not like, half Puerto Rican, or anything like that.”

“Well I am, and that whole poem felt like a microaggression. And I knew that guy!” He starts gesturing wildly with his hands at the outrage, which Margo finds hilarious. 

“He's like, one-eighth Boricua. His last name is fuckin’ Schwartz!” Miles scoffs, “He don’t know shit about no damn ‘Suavemente’. Bet he looked it up.”

“You should write your own poem, then. ‘Take up space’, as they say.”

“Hell no,” he said. “I left that behind in high school. The other night was an exception, remember?”

“Look, I’m not one to encourage more people to become poets, but you never know. Something might inspire you.”

Miles calms down and gives her a meaningful look.

“Maybe.”

The rest of the conversation saw Miles slyly gathering intel through bites of roasted chicken. He’d quickly learned from their meeting at the bar that his line of questioning with Margo ought to be less direct.

He even hit her with the ‘what’s your sign’ question, though Biggie would’ve advised against it (Margo was a Libra, he was a Leo). He didn’t actually care for astrology, but Margo wasted no time in proclaiming that she couldn’t stand Scorpios because they were ‘too nosy’. 

Miles’ only error was asking if she’d ever dated–correction–spoken to one, and her eyes hardened with suspicion again. He quickly elected to change the subject.

“Okay, totally random question, but humor me. How do you like your eggs?”

Margo blinks twice.

“What?”

“You heard me. You can tell a lot about a person by what kinda eggs they like, true shit.”

“Alright, fine. I like ‘em fried, with the crispy edges. What that say about me?”

“I dunno, but when I find out it’ll all make sense.”

Margo laughs.

“Okay, well, how do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled, fluffy,” A childish grin spread across Miles’ lips. “And seasoned with Adobo to make ‘em all orange.”

“Never had ‘em like that before.”

“Maybe I could make some for you sometime, if you’d let me.”

“Maybe.”

She remembers his promise a month later when she wakes up to the aroma of the seasoning and hears the pop of frying oil, letting out a sigh of relief at the realization that Miles is still there.

His back is facing her when she enters the kitchen, the morning light illuminating a tattoo she had never seen before. 

It’s a spider with sprawling legs that cascade all the way down the expanse of skin, the movement of his shoulder blades bringing them partially to life. She hadn’t noticed it in the dark, and he was not one to walk around in anything revealing enough for it to have ever seen daylight. It’s faded, which means he’s likely had it for years.

He’s only twenty-one, she thinks. Did he get it in high school?

Amusement creeps onto Margo’s face at the image of Miles sneaking around the house, darting in and out of the bathroom to clean it without his hawk-eyed mother or straight-edged father taking notice. Picturing this, it’s suddenly much easier to believe that their son would have to beg and plead for them to send him a measly forty-six miles away for school, even for an Ivy League. 

Miles doesn’t turn around yet, but Margo catches the way he stops, tilting his head playfully and placing a hand on his hip.

“Man, I can’t believe I’mma have to eat this whole thing of scrambled eggs all by myself, with the ones I just fried! How sad.” “You’re not very funny,” Margo says with a smile, pulling out a chair from beneath the dining table.

He switches the stove off, then does a dramatic spin to face her with fake surprise on his face.

“Oh! Where’d you come from? I didn’t see you there.”

He turns back around to grab two plates–ceramic ones, not the stack of styrofoam ones–from one of the cupboards to serve the eggs in, starting with fried.

Margo watches him silently. The tiny, squint-or-you-might-miss-it gold chain around his neck catches the light as he moves, and she remembers feeling the cold metal brush across her lips.

“The fried ones, are they–”

“Crispy at the edges?” he finishes, with a smile in his voice. “Yes ma’am!”

“You could really be a detective, can’t get nothing past you.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“See?”

The two burst into laughter, and the ink on Miles’ back does also. His poem was accurate, in a way. For the past five weeks, Margo has been no more than ten feet away from a spider.

They have a brief and quiet breakfast, wherein Margo finally asks to try the scrambled eggs and is delighted by the burst of flavor added by the Adobo. They aren’t too dry or too soggy the way they tend to be in restaurants - just fluffy, as promised. She thinks it might be time to finally start taking Miles at his word as she watches his back again while he’s washing dishes.

Once he is fully dressed and about to leave, Miles stops suddenly, as if he’s forgotten something. He reaches into the left pocket of his jacket and pulls out a neatly-folded sheet of paper, nervously running his other hand through the short dreads sitting atop his head.

“Before I leave, I, uh…I took your advice and wrote a lil’ something.”

He hands it to Margo, who takes it gingerly. 

“Well, good for you.”

“It’s been a while, so it’s kinda rough, but hopefully the sentiment is there.”

Miles plants a quick kiss on her cheek, and she smiles easily for once as opposed to the usual raised eyebrow.

“I’ll be sure to let you know if it is.”

Some time after he leaves, she finally sits down to read it while sipping on a cup of tea, because coffee wreaks havoc on her nerves. His handwriting is strange, overly graphic as if it’s the title card of a cartoon, but she reads it.

I know you don't like poetry 

but you said you liked mine,

and the way you sip your wine

has set my pen to paper,

so I hope 

you'll make another exception. 

You've already claimed

half of my sketchbook 

because I just can't get your eyes right.

I always make ‘em too soft,

or too round.

They don't pierce through me,

like they did when

you stared at me over your glass,

eyes narrowed.

When you search my face

and pick me apart,

I'd like to know what it is 

you're always searching for.

[ch0-fuyu]

Suni talks: Chainsaw Man and the over-s*xualization of some of its characters....

From women to female characters, they all were, are and will continue to be the objects of all men's desires. Nothing is different when it comes to the anime community. In fact, it only gets worse.

Not only do some fans seek to s*xualize some characters for their own 'enjoyment', but they seem to be encouraged. In same cases, the mangakas, the anime studio, the merch producers and other unofficial sellers of merchandise contribute to the damaging viewing of female characters...

(small break) This reminds me of the TikTok an 'anime' guy made in which he implies he stole the virginity of his body pillow of Demon Slayers' 12 to 14 year old Nezuko. That's exactly what I am trying to hint at. These people will s*xualize female characters despite their age and no matter if the 'right' content will be provided for them. That's why I personally think they shouldn't be given 'what they want' (s*xualized figurines, body pillows, etc).

My inspiration for this post was a certain series of Chainsaw Man figurines of some of its female characters dressed in playboy bunny costumes.

With just one search of "Chainsaw Man Figurines" and below a minute of scrolling, you will be greeted by the pictures of Makima and Power figurines dressed in playboy bunny costumes. While Makima is depicted as an adult, Power is not. And besides their ages, which i could not find anywhere, Power is made out to be Denji's first friend, a 16 year old. Most of the times, she behaves much more childishly than Denji, so no matter her 'real' age, the viewers are meant to believe she's only a teenager.

Now it's true that Chainsaw Man is a story which revolves around a teenage boy so the s*xual side of it is mainly present because of that aspect. However, not all anime fans are teenagers and this content, whether it's shonen anime, merchandise and even h*ntai (oh god, the territory i'm crossing here), can be consumed by anybody.

There are plenty other female characters that are s*xualized without having a 'sexy figurine' made of them, including Himeno (supposedly in her mid to late 20's and is also a romanticized by the fandom s*xual abus*r), Kobeni (20 year old), Reze (supposedly late teens to early 20's, shown wearing little to no clothing in the manga) and lately Asa (mid to late teens). It doesn't take much to be seen as an object.

And don't get me wrong, I love Chainsaw Man. I am currently reading the series and I'm not anywhere near dropping it. It's entertaining and its approach is really different from usual shonen manga. However we can't not acknowledge the flaws in some scenes and merchandise pieces.

Some people might say not only female characters get over-s*xualized in the anime community and that's absolutely right! Again, some men have been getting mad after the second season of Jujutsu Kaisen got released and seeing all the "female" fan service of Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Kamo Choso, etc. There have been understandably terrible incidents such as the "Bloody Gojo Figurine" one when a supposed underage fan had ruined their figurine of Jujutsu Kaisen's character with their own period blood... But unfortunately for women and most likely fortunately for men, these behaviors are currently not affecting men to the extent it affects women.

Why I am only mentioning the Chainsaw Man figurines, which from what I've seen are sold by none other than Crunchyroll itself, and not the other merchandise of h*ntai characters and whatnot is because Chainsaw Man is getting more main stream as more chapters get released.

What's your opinion on this? Are these pieces of merchandise really encouraging certain people and make them feel they have the right to behave in creepy and lewd ways or do they hold no significance in this situations?

[cissyenthusiast010155]

can u do a part 2 of unexpected desires soon?? i actually fell so in love with the fic 😭

Yeaaaaaaa, here it is, anon! It warms my heart to hear you enjoyed the fic 🥰 Enjoy this one, it’s basically porn without a plot hehe 😉 Oh and I found a song that I was inspired by to go along with it 💖

Unexpected Desires Pt. 2 ~Dom!Lady Lesso xSub!Dovey xDom!Anemone xFem Sub!Reader

After events of Part 1 ensue, the women of Nevermore take Reader back to Lesso room for some fun…

Link to Part 1

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!!, porn with no plot, smut, eating out, fingering, masturbation, strap on fucking, doggystyle fucking, d!ck riding, face sitting, praise kink, degrading kink, mistress kink, mommy kink, overstimulation, poly relationship, foursome, Dom/Sub relations, etc…

Enjoy (;

Lesso leaned into your body, her lips ghosting your ear, “Your three coworkers all want to see you ruined…” she purred.

“Yes please…” you whispered.

~~~

It was decided that Lesso’s bedroom was the best choice as it was the closest and had the most toys to go along with it…

The four of you practically sprinted to the room. Along the way, Lesso had scooped up Clarissa so that she was straddled around Lesso’s waist, as Lesso began to mark any available skin. Anemone had grabbed your wrist in an almost possessive manner.

As soon as the door to the room was shut, Anemone had you pinned against the door as she skillfully marked and kissed along your neck. Lesso had placed Dovey on the edge of the bed and was lustfully removing her stockings and knickers. Anemone chuckled at the ferocious, lustful state the two on the bed were in. She then turned her attention back to you.

“Will you be a good girl and let your mistress make you feel good...?” she husked in the shell of your ear.

Your breath hitched and you nodded with a whisper, “Yes mistress, I'll be good. So good... please...”

With that, Anemone dropped to her knees and began unbuckling your trousers. You moaned and bucked your hips desperately in response. You quickly stepped out of your trousers and quickly following, your knickers. Your shirt and bra were quick to follow. Anemone then spread your legs open for access as you leaned against the door already panting.

“OH GOD Leo!!” Dovey cried out, interrupting Anemones teasing around your thighs.

The red head had finally dove into Clarissa's aching cunt, lapping away at her folds and catching the dean of good by surprise. Clarissa's moans and your entire view of Lesso's eating Clarissa out elicited even more moans from your lips.

“Please mistress please...!!” you mewled, stabilizing yourself with one hand in Anemone's hair.

That seemed to be enough for the beauty professor, as she skillfully inserted her tongue in your fluttering pussy and began fucking you to high heaven. Your eyes rolled back as she added the pad of her thumb to your clit, and you could vaguely hear Clarissa's cries of pleasure too. Anemone brought you right to the edge and let you tetter there.

It was Clarissa's scream of pleasure as Lesso made her cum, that sent you over the edge as well. But Anemone didn’t stop there. While Lesso removed her own trousers and knickers and went to straddle Clarissas face.

“Holy... Fuck... That’s it baby, right there...!” Lesso groaned, grinding her cunt against Clarissa’s hardworking tongue.

At this, you thought your legs were going to buckle right then and there. And then Anemone slid a finger into your soaked cunt... You were done for. Your legs started to tremble and strings of moans and cries left your lips on repeat. She added a second finger and you thought you’d see God... This coupled with the sight of Lesso riding Clarissa’s face was all too much.

“Fuck— is our sweet slut about to cum for her mistress...?” Lesso breathlessly purred, about to go over the edge herself.

You bit your lip, shut your eyes, and nodded vigourously.

“Look at me slut...” Lesso growled.

Your eyes jumped open and you were met by the same teasing sight of Lesso deliciously rutting on her lovers face. Suddenly you felt a third finger enter you and curl right at your spongey spot. It all became too much. You came for a second time with a scream and your legs truly did buckle this time. You collapse onto the floor, and you were quickly followed by Lesso, who came with a cry and several obscenities. This left all four of you panting heavily and collapsed on the floor or the bed.

“I want our sweet slut on my dick...” Lesso lustfully snarled, breaking the silence.

You gulped and nodded, crawling over and onto the bed. Anemone in the meantime, situated herself on a nearby reading chair.

“Clarissa, Dove, be a doll and help me take care of this...” she purred, rolling up her dress and revealing her dampened knickers.

Clarissa was quick to look up and her eyes widened at the sight of her colleague. She was quick to get down on the floor and part Anemones legs for even more access. You had been so wrapped up in watching the two women, you hadn't even noticed Lesso putting on her strap. The red head grabbed you from behind and positioned you doggystyle and facing Clarissa and Anemone. She swiftly opened your legs for her access.

“Mommy wants to fuck that pretty, tight pussy of yours...” Lesso growled, lining up her dick with your soaked hole.

“Please mommy please fuck me...!!” you pled with the red head.

And she didn’t need to be told twice... With one thrust, Lesso buried her dick inside your throbbing cunt, making you cry out in both pain and pleasure. A string of moans came from Anemone right after yours, from watching you as well as Clarissa attaching her mouth to her clit. Anemone grabbed Dovey’s head by her hair and pushed her face even further into her needy cunt. You moaned out at just the sight of the two women.

“Awww, does watching your mistress get eaten out turn you on, slut...?” Lesso tauntingly purred, as she accentuated every punctuated syllable with a thrust into you from behind.

You groaned and cried out in response, “Fuck mommy...! YES turns me on so much!!”

From there, a chuckle and groan came from across the room from Anemones lips, “Be a good girl for your mistress and watch while mommy fucks you dumb... —Oh Fuck, Dove, right there...!”

This only sent you further and closer to your next impending high, as Lesso was now mercilessly pounding into you and Clarissa was eating Anemone out like it was her last meal.

It all became too much again very quickly. You toppled over the edge first, clenching and squirting around Lesso’s dick and then collapsing on the bed. Anemone was quick to follow you, letting out an angelic like moan as she came around Clarissa’s tongue.

“Such a sweet and tired slut for mommy…” Lesso purred, pulling out of you, “but we’re by no means done with you…”

“Hey baby?” Lesso called out to a blissed out Clarissa.

Clarissa looked around to Lesso and hummed in response, “yes, dear?”

Lesso blushed slightly at Clarissa’s manners, “How would you like to grind against this sweet sluts cunt…?” She wickedly purred.

Clarissa’s breath hitched and her face lit up, “with pleasure…” she practically moaned out.

Within seconds, Clarissa was stripping and then on the bed with you, interlocking her legs with yours. She eagerly and lustfully ground her heat against yours, making you yelp from the overstimulation on you cunt. But, you we’re quick to reciprocate as you could feel your coil tensing as you climax built yet again. You and Clarissa let out strings of leud moans and cries as you were shamelessly grinding against each other. And Lesso and Anemone we’re just shamelessly watching, drinking in every grind and cry from both of you.

“Fuck, that’s it slut… Grind your soaked cunt against Clarissa’s beautiful pussy…” Lesso groaned, her own fingers teasing her clit and fucking her own pussy with ease.

“Ohhhh Fuck mommy… mistress… wanna cum—!!” you cried out, your grindings getting sloppier and sloppier.

With that, Clarissa smashed her lips against your own, stifling your cries and swallowing your moans.

Clarissa pulled away breathlessly, “God Leo… Em’… M’mmm close too…!!” she moaned out, emphasizing her words with her sloppy grindings.

Anemone had slipped her own fingers inside her own cunt as well, “Fuck… Dove… sweet slut… Fuck come for us you pretties…” Anemone groaned.

You and Clarissa fell apart at Anemone’s words. You cried out in pleasure from your fourth orgasm of the night. You quickly collapsed, feeling lightheaded and in a sex fog afterwards. Clarissa collapsed right on top of you, lightly connecting her lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting Clarissa’s tongue delicately slip into your mouth and explore your wet cavern.

“Shit…!! Such a good slut…!!” Lesso moaned, cumming on her fingers.

Anemone was quick to follow, screwing her eyes shut and cumming with a silent scream. Lesso moaned at the sight of Anemone. Lesso was then quick to position herself against the headboard and open her legs.

“Sweet slut, come ride mommy’s dick for her…” Lesso purred, patting the opening between her legs.

You whimpered, your cunt still sensitive from your last high. Lesso cocked an eyebrow at your whine, and your eyes blew up, and you were immediately in the red heads lap at that. At that, Anemone crawled to the edge of the bed and scooched Clarissa to the edge. Anemone was quick to attach her mouth to the deans sensitive, dripping cunt, eliciting squeals and moans from Clarissa. Your attentions were diverted back to Lesso when she tugged your dripping pussy in line with her dick.

“OHhhHh Fuck me mommy… sensitive…!” you mewled, as you sank down on the red head’s plastic dick and instinctually began swaying and rutting on her dick.

“That’s it, sweet slut… ride mommy’s dick…” Lesso moaned.

Pretty soon, Lesso was rutting up into you, eliciting cries and screams of overstimulation from your lips. Coupled with that, Dovey’s eyes rolled back and she came with a scream as Anemone milked another orgasm from her.

“Mommy…!! Mommy please… too much…!!” You cried out, as Lesso’s dick pounded into you relentlessly.

“Awwww, are you sensitive sweet slut…?” Lesso lustfully taunted, “Be a good girl and take it, whore…”

You breathily moaned out like a broken record, before you snapped and climaxed yet again. It all became so much… Her pounding into you… Clarissa’s leud sounds… Your orgasm hitting you like a brick wall…

It all became so much that you passed out… while still on Lesso’s dick…

~~~

When your eyes fluttered open, you still felt overwhelmed and full. You were on top of Lesso, who was keeping your stable on top of her. The other two women had disappeared.

“Mommy’s baby decided to pass out on me…” Lesso purred, cupping your cheek, “Are you alright, sweet slut…?”

You merely whimpered in response, your throat hoarse and tired, your body limp and sore.

“Baby to tired to speak…?” Lesso chuckled and purred, “Well, let me help you off my dick, and Dovey and Anemone will be right back with a warm washcloth and then we’ll put you in a bath…”

With that, Lesso gently help ease you off her dick. You winced in pain from the overstimulation.

“Oh baby, come here, let me clean you up…” Clarissa cooed and rushed into the room, having grabbed a warm washcloth.

You collapsed into Lesso’s arms once you were off her dick, and she guided you to turn around so that Clarissa could clean you up. Anemone was hot and her heels and quick to join on the bed.

“You did so good for your mistress and mommy… so good…” she praised in your ear as you winced as Clarissa cleaned you up.

Lesso then scooped you up from underneath, your legs being jelly and unable to walk, and she carried you to the bathroom.

“Relax love, mommy will be back shortly…” Lesso placed you in the tub with a short kiss to your forehead.

But when the three women returned to the bathroom, all they found was you snoring lightly and peacefully in the warm water.

~~~

Tag list: @snakeskins-world @riveramorylunar @slutformisswena @atotalposer1 @theundeadcultist @dingdongthetail @principal-weems09 @makamarkinson @willisnotmental @dj-bynum3718 @enchantressb @xx-state-of-mind-xx @slayqueen77790 @rachelbrad @hellemia @wipethetape @teenybean @thenazwife @scream-queenlover

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Moschino and Muddy Water [Emily x Reader]

 Prompt: You offer unsolicited fashion advice to a total stranger in the dressing room; aka when you meet Emily Prentiss in the Moschino dressing room and give her some much-needed confidence… and maybe something more. 

Category: Fluff/Comfort 

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: This is yet another @imagining-in-the-margins prompt from her Meet Cute writing challenge. Thank you for all the inspiration! Please know that I don’t have Moschino money, so if my writing about the brand or experience of shopping there is off, that’s why. I’m just giving my best guess as to what it’s like to shop at a luxury store like that. Also, I don’t love the current Moschino collection, but they seem like clothes Emily would wear to me. This is the first time that I’ve written a story in the second person. Please let me know if you like this formatting more than the third-person formatting I’ve done in the past. I hope you enjoy this story, and if you do - comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! 

P.S. The reader uses she/her pronouns

List with all stories 

_s/s_ = shoe size 

_d/s_ = dress size 

_f/c_ = favorite color

_b/t_ = body type 

_f/j/c_ = favorite jewel color 

_f/m/s_ = favorite mall store

_y/n_ = your name 

_f/s_ = favorite senator 

_f/a_ = favorite artist 

You had spent the morning window shopping at the outdoor  Historic Downton Shopping Mall. She was currently standing outside the Moschino storefront with its crisp glass exterior and metrosexual, jewel-toned fall collection on the mannequins. _y/n_ would never stop at such a high-end shop, but a pair of boots had caught your eye and you really, really like them. _y/n_ thought, ‘Oh god, why do you have to torture yourself like this?’ As you walked into the store to take a closer look at those shoes. You justified the choice by thinking that she would take a closer look at the boots so you could try and find a convincing and far cheaper dupe online. As soon as you walked into the store a sharply dressed sales assistant approached her and said, “Good morning, Miss. Can I grab you a glass of champagne while you are looking around?” You smiled and said, “Yes, please.” The assistant nodded and moved into a back room for a moment. You heard the pop of a cork. While the woman was away, you looked over the dresses and jackets in the women’s section. You like this season’s collection and found a dress that you thought you had seen one of her coworkers wearing. The sales assistant came back and handed you a champagne flute and asked, “Is there anything particular you’re looking for today? Any style or event you’d like to help you with?” Now that you had committed to the bit by accepting the champagne you realized you were going to have to play that you were going to buy something, even though you knew you weren't. You turned to the assistant and said, “Well the black boots in the window caught my eye. I’m also looking for a new jacket; something that can transition from day to night.” The woman nodded and said, “Great. What’s your shoe and dress size?” You replied, “I’m a _s/s_ and a _d/s_.” The woman nodded and said, “I’ll go in the back to get those shoes. Feel free to look around the jacket sections -- it’s on the far wall.” 

You did go look at the jackets, but not before looking at the price of the dress you had seen her co-worker in. The number on the label took your breath away and you wondered how your co-worker could possibly afford something so expensive? ‘Maybe she’s loaded?’ you thought. You stepped toward the jackets and pulled one from the rack. The quality of stitching and the material used was impeccable. You placed the piece back on the rack as a _f/c_ dress nearby caught your eye. It would be perfect for work. You looked at it longingly and hadn’t noticed the sales assistant had come back. You nearly jumped out of your skin when the woman said, “Ma’am.” You caught your breath and turned, trying to look composed. The assistant motioned for one of the plush chairs on the floor. As you sat, she took out the shoes. You tried them on; you were happy they weren’t that comfortable, because with how good they looked on you, you might be tempted to waste two months' salary and eat ramen for two weeks straight to get them. The sales assistant said, “Why don’t you walk around a bit and see if you like them. There’s a mirror on the other side of the wall so you can properly see them. I also saw you looking at that dress and jacket. I’ll grab them in your size and put them in a changing room for you.” You smiled and thanked her. As the woman moved to the racks, you did a few circuits of the store and looked at the shoes in the mirror. When you finished trying on the boots, you moved back to your old shoes and put them back on. You moved to the dressing room. It was lush and as a grandiose, over-the-top addition the hallway that was lined with changing rooms was essentially lit like a runway with two towering mirrors on either end of the hallway. Just before the changing rooms, there’s a seating area full of neutral-color plush sofas and chairs similar to those in the showroom. For a moment you thought they might be for the poor husbands who were dragged out shopping with their wives. However, after a second look, the space was far too feminine; you ascertained that this was for mothers and girlfriends to coo and make recommendations on the fit and look of the clothes to be soon bought and stuck in a closet somewhere potentially to be forgotten. A shot of jealousy shot up you for a moment before you took a breath and let it out. You may not have come from money, but you were happy. You had a job that fulfilled you and that’s all that mattered. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when the sales assistant called for you. You moved to the dressing room she had picked out for you. As you peered into the large space you noticed two things. The first was that the woman had brought your champagne glass into the changing room and topped it up. Secondly, she had brought more than the two pieces into the dressing room. From your count, there were at least ten items on the small personal rack in the ostentatious room. The saleswoman said, “I took the liberty to pull a few more pieces in your sizes that matched the description of day to night that you mentioned. I’m going to let you try these items on. If you need anything like a different size or a top-up for your champagne, just let me know. My name is Kirsten, so please let me know if you need anything.” Kirsten graciously moved out of the dressing room and closed the door behind her. There was a satisfying click as the door automatically locked behind her. You relaxed after letting out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. The fact that Kristen hadn’t realized that you didn’t have any money to buy anything she had pulled for you was shocking, or maybe she was just taking pity on her and not making this a humiliating experience. Whatever the cause was, you took off your pants and shirt and tried on the first dress, the original one you had been eyeing. When you looked in the mirror it really wasn’t as pretty on you as you had anticipated. It looked great on the rack, but on your _b/t_ it wasn’t flattering. With that disappointment swept under the rug, you took off the dress and grabbed for the next garment because surely they couldn’t all look as bad as the first. 

As you slipped the second dress off the hanger you heard Kisten’s voice and a new voice a few feet from your dressing room. From what you could hear Kristen was talking to a regular. The jealousy swelled again, but you pushed it down again. The next two dresses were also flops and you started to try on the jackets Kirsten had picked for you, the new voice spoke. Whoever was in the changing room with you caught your interest. It was clear to you that whoever was speaking was on the phone. If you listened with concentration, you could hear some of the words being exchanged. Given this was such a stupid and surreal experience, why not listen to how ‘the other half lived?’ As you eavesdropped these were the snippets of conversation you heard: “Listen J.J. I’ve shopped here for years, but I don’t know about the Fall 23’ collection. If I buy these dresses and pants they will have to function for work and this date I’ve got coming up on Saturday… I can’t decide if this dress is tacky or chic” There was a long pause before the woman who was speaking said, “Okay, okay, fine, I’ll look in the big mirror if you insist.” You couldn’t help but leave your lush cubicle to see who this woman was and what someone who sounded like they had been a consistent customer for years looked like. You zipped up the hidden zipper of the _f/j/c/_ dress you were pretending to be trying on. After the zipper was up, you peeked out of the door to see the woman. She was still on the phone and hadn’t noticed you standing there yet. Your jaw almost dropped when you saw the woman. She was beautiful; the most attractive person she had seen in months. The maroon dress she wore hugged her body in the best possible way. Its plunging neckline showed her cleavage in a way that highlighted her form. Seeing her in that dress she realized who these clothes were made for. You could help yourself and you said aloud, “You look amazing.” At your comment the woman finally realized that she wasn’t alone and her eyes looked up to the mirror, locking onto yours. She turned and said, “Thank you. Do you really think so? I think the neckline might be a bit much” You smiled and nodded saying, “I think that dress was made for you. I couldn't help but overhear your comment on the phone and I don’t think it’s tacky at all. I would probably wear a cami under it at work, but other than that I don’t see any downsides.” The woman smiled and said, “Thank you. I needed to hear that. It’s been a rough week.” The woman took a moment to look you over, and you flushed as you felt her eyes quickly rake over you. She said, “You look great as well. That dress really suits you.” You beamed replying, “Thank you.” With slight hesitation and a bit of awkwardness, the conversation stopped and both women went back to their own stalls. 

You took off the dress and put it back on the hanger. As silly as it was, you didn’t want the woman she had complimented to see her walk out of the store empty-handed. You exited the dressing room and told the sales associate that none of the dresses or jackets had worked out, and she thanked her for her time and help. Outside the weather had turned cloudy and grey. It had been raining a lot that fall and it looked like the trend was going to continue today. You decided to go to a store you could afford. You looked around the racks of _f/m/s_ and picked out a suad purse. You moved to the front of the store and checked out. You spent some time just walking around appreciating the cool weather and people-watching. You remembered that you had a Starbucks gift card and decided to treat yourself. As you walked toward the coffee shop you heard a noise on the opposite side of the road in front of her. You looked over in that direction and found the woman from the dressing room. It seems that she had fallen for some reason. You became increasingly annoyed as a group of guys and a few women walked by and didn’t help her up. More infuriating was the fact that you could hear one of the men laugh, and you knew that if she could hear his nasal laugh the woman most certainly could. You quickly moved across the road, avoiding a slow-moving car, and knelt down near the woman offering her a hand. The woman took it with surprising strength and you leaned back to help her up. Not only had she fallen, but she had fallen in a puddle of muddy water, staining her crisp white shirt. As she helped the woman up, she said, “Thank you so much! You’re my savior.” You smiled and said, “I’m happy to help.” Once she was back on the sidewalk, you leaned down and got to her dropped shopping bag and purse from the puddle. You made sure the bag labeled Moschino didn’t have any water damage to the package. Thankfully whatever clothing the woman had bought was put in another box due to the quality of the product. You shook the bag slightly to remove any excess water. 

You noticed the reason for the woman’s fall was due to the fact that her right high heel had broken off. You couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for this woman; she had said she had had a bad week, she had fallen and no one had helped her up, and now even her shoes were betraying her. Without even really thinking you said, “I was going to go grab a coffee and Starbucks, could I treat you to a drink? I’m_y/n_, by the way.” The woman looked at you and replied, “That sounds really nice actually. I’m Emily, Pretiss. It’s nice to meet you _y/n_.” You handed the Mischino bag back to Emily and you both moved down the street toward the Starbucks. As you were walking, Emily said, “You didn’t buy the dress from the dressing room? It looked so good on you?” You flushed but responded truthfully with, “I couldn’t afford the dress. I can barely afford Guess which is just a knock-off Prada.” Emily laughed at the last comment and you thought the sound of her laughing was the most beautiful thing you had heard all week. She replied, “Tell me about it. Why does shopping have to be so humiliating? First, you have to try on clothes and be disappointed when they don’t fit, and second, if they do fit, you can’t afford them! Certainly, men don’t have this type of problem while shopping.” You chuckled and said, “They most certainly don’t, but most men are wearing cargo shorts and Polo’s. A two-year-old could make the outfit.” You both burst into another fit of laughter. As you got to the Starbucks Emily opened the door for you. You both waited in line and as you got to the front you ordered your usual creme brulee latte with a shot of espresso and a pump of vanilla. You turned to Emily and asked, “What would you like?” She thought for a second before saying, “I’ll have a cold brew with sweet cream foam.” After you had paid you both found a quiet table in the corner of the store. 

As you sat across from each other you appreciated Emily’s face. You couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty she was. You were pulled from your thoughts when Emily said, “So, where do you work?” You replied I’m an intern for _f/s_ currently. How about you, Emily?” Emily replied, “I work for the F.B.I. actually. I’m a profiler?” At this, your eyes widened and you said, “Really? What’s that like; it must be dangerous I assume?” Emily nodded. She was looking at you and the way you were looking at her ignited a small warmth in the pit of her stomach. _y/n_ was looking at her with a kind and attentive gaze. Emily had been struggling with dating since she had joined the BAU and now, by fate or fortune, she was someone who seemed lovely. She was actually dreading her upcoming date, but didn’t want to cancel on the guy and have to explain that she wasn’t into him anymore. So she was going to savor this moment with _y/n_. She responded to the question saying, “It is. It is dangerous most of the time. But it has to be done you know. People deserve to live in a safe world. And that’s what I do.” There was a moment of silence after this before Emily continued, “So what’s an average weekend like for you apart from boosting my confidence by fifty percent?” As both Emily and you recognized how this feels like a first date this all felt. However, neither one minded, and you replied, “I like to sleep in if I can. Then get a workout in and answer some emails and after that, I’ll grab a coffee and do something fun if I have the energy. I have a penchant for used bookstores and vintage copies of Virginia Wolfe. In the evenings I like to listen to _f/a_ on vinyl while I unwind with a glass of wine. How about you?” Emily liked what had said and replied, “Oh my god, I love _f/a_! I was them in concert last year. I think I changed my life.” You smiled and said, “Lucky.” After finishing a sip of her cold brew, Emily said, “Well it depends if my team is on a case then I’m working, obviously, but if I’m free I like to get in a workout like Yoga or pilates. I cuddle my cat and spend time making a nice meal. I’m trying to see every art museum in the city, so if I can fit that in then I will. My job is pretty stressful, so relaxing stuff mostly.” You couldn’t help but think about Emily cuddling her cat, or maybe you were thinking of her cuddling you instead. Your face visibly reddened and you had to look away for a moment. You and Emily continued to chat as you finished your drinks and before you got up to go Emily went out on a limb and said, “Hey, _y/n_, would you like to do this for real sometime soon?” At hearing this the butterflies in your stomach fluttered up into your chest and you thought you might float up to the ceiling. You wanted to be sure you heard correctly and said, “This?” Now Emily flushed and she replied, “Would you go on a date with me? You seem really kind and I’d like to get to know you better.” You wanted to nod or scream with excitement, but something stopped you for a moment and asked, “What about your date on Thursday?” Emily shook her head and said, “I’ll cancel. He was rude in his messages with me and I was having doubts already.” You took in the information and nodded replying, “Then yes. I’d love to go on a date with you, Emily.” Emily’s face broke into a radiant smile and she said, “Great. What day works for you?”

As you planned the day and time for the date the chemistry was palpable between them. As they both walked to the door to go their separate ways, Emily held the door for you. Feel blossoming feelings Emily felt toward you surged as you turned away from her and she couldn’t stop herself from saying your name. You turned and there was a look of desire on Emily’s face. You stepped forward and whispered her name. Emily closed the gap between you. She took one of your hands and leaned down slowly. Slowly enough for you to say no if you wanted. But you didn’t want to say no. Instead, you raised up on your toes to meet her lips. They were as warm and soft as you had imagined. The scent of her light perfume overwhelmed you and you felt dizzy in an intoxicating sort of way. Emily was similarly reveling in your closeness. She lifted her hand and ran her thumb down your jawline. The kiss lingered, but it was polite and respectful and left room for more when the time was right for them both. As you parted for real this time as you walked toward the train you had never been so happy to have gone into that Moschino to look at shoes you couldn't buy in your life.

[p1nkfr1day]

QQ Couples Quiz

Pairing: Rapper Aran Ojiro x Black Reader

Warnings: cursing, suggestive content, use of N word, fluff

A/N: it’s been so long and this been sitting in my drafts for about two years. I need it gone! This was inspired by Teyana Taylor & Iman Shrumpet’s video. This is also a short chapter from my story abt Rapper Aran and Black Reader. Enjoy lol.

“Hey GQ, it’s y/n here, with my favorite person everr.” You look to him so he can introduce himself. “Aran Ojiro, top tog” he threw gang signs up and you guys laughed together.

You guys are sitting in an illuminated room, with two spinning chairs and the GQ producers and crew members were all doing their role and laughing a little too.

“first question, besides you, who’s my celebrity crush.” you smirked.

“Brent Faiyez. Easy.” He said rolling his eyes. The women on the set all laughed cause they know Brent fine asf. He went on to tell a short story about how you fan girled when you met him.

“Oh you don’t know this one…” you read over the next question.

“man hit me.” he smacked his teeth.

“how many tattoos do I have?” you giggled, you could already tell he was bout to say some outta pocket shit.

“girl my mouth been on every part of yo body and you think I don’t know how many tattoos you have?” He looked confused.

You looked to the producers and asked if you could curse and they said yes, it’s fine.

“nigga stop stalling and answer the question.”

“the heart behind your ear, the butterflies on your rib cage, your birthday in Roman numerals on your shoulder, and our lil secret on your index finger.”

“show off. what’s my favorite color?”

“easyyy. pink”

“the first movie we watched together?”

“aw man. after the BET awards, you made me watch every marvel movie ever made. but we started from the beginning so iron man.”

“stop acting like you didn’t like it. What’s something on my bucket list?” you scooted your chair closer to him to look him in the eye. he pecked your lips sense you were so close.

you laughed and backed up. “To do a song with Nicki Minaj.”

“Yesss. If you know me, you know I’m a huge Nicki fan.” He looked into to camera and rolled his eyes.

“How you know when I’m mad at you?” You laughed. You never really got mad at him unless he ate your food.

“You blast breakup music in my house.” He mean mugged you.

“that is not true.” you made a buzzard noise.

“What color are my eyes?” You asked next.

“psh. That’s easy bro. Brown.” He responded.

“You right that was an easy question.. let me see.” You looked through the cards for a harder question to ask him.

“I know you.” He laughed taking a sip of the water while he waited.

“If I wasn’t a singer, what would I be?”

“Damn, an.. Athletic Trainer” he smiled knowing he got it right.

“Oh my god. If you know me, you know I got a full ride scholarship to Clark Atl for that. But I chose to pursue my music with the help of my daddy”

“Shout out to pops. The real og.” He winked.

“Boy my daddy don’t even like you.” You pushed.

“That’s cause he don’t know me! I bet he’ll like me more than he like you.” He held his hand out for you to shake.

“How much?” You asked before you shook his hand.

“$20”

“Boy I am not betting you $20. Get out my face.” You pushed his hand away and everyone laughed.

“Ok, last question. What is my favorite song by you?” You smiled while hiding your face with the cards.

“Released or Unreleased?” He asked knowing that you know all his songs.

“It don’t matter.”

“Prada U. Only because it’s about you though.”

“All your love songs better be about me.” You threatened. To which he threw his hands up and said they are.

“Aye, thank yall for watching our GQ Couples Quiz. It’s been fun.” He said laughing and looking at the camera.

[sneezemonster15]

https://www.tumblr.com/sunshinecherryblossom/732710854315933696/wtf-it-is-true-oh-my-god-when-is-this

This seems false, what do you think about it?

I find it highly unlikely. Unless someone gives me a legit link to it, I wouldn't consider it. Lots of fake interviews of Kishi are doing rounds in this fandom. And Kishi would never say something like this given how he has treated Sakura's character for 700 chapters and beyond. This part is from his 2010 interview (at Jump Fiesta Tokyo-Japan) :

When the interviewer asked Kishi about Sakura, and called her a detestable girl (most people can see how Sakura's character is written as a detestable character, can't speak for delusional people), Kishi replied in a very convenient manner - "Realistic girls are like that..."

Lol. Once he calls his character realistic, what can one say? Realistic characters are never black and white, they stand in the grey area. So you can get away by saying - "Oh, she is realistic", without expanding on it.

Shounen characters are generally larger than life type characters to create a large impact since they serve a pedagogic purpose for its target group. People who are from the good guys camp, are generally taken as good, people who are from the bad guys camp are generally perceived as bad. So of course it would confuse people when Sakura is from the good guys camp but acts like a total douchebag. And naturally they would ask questions about it. But Kishi totally avoided to take the more controversial position by saying - she is realistic.

We know Sakura's character can be realistic, many women are the way she is. But is she a good role model for women of any place at any time? No. She doesn't really serve the pedagogic purpose other characters do. She is a negative person, selfish and immature. We know that. But Kishi cannot say it explicitly in his interviews because it would lead to all the other kinds of controversial questions, and would potentially open a can of worms for him. First question would be - If she is from the good guys camp and remains till the end, why did you write her as negative, even after she got so popular? You could have used her character's popularity with the girls to say something inspiring, something kind. So why didn't you? Any other writer would have jumped at the chance. Writers are supposed to work off the popularity of characters in a medium such as commercial serialilized manga.

Kishi kept writing her as detestable. If he could, he would have told them - I wrote her that way because I needed plot device for Naruto and Sasuke's romance which I was writing in the disguise of ninja manga. Team seven is about S and N. It's a love story about them and Sakura doesn't figure anywhere in their relationship and I want to make it clear by showing why.

And I have a feeling quite a lot of Sakura's characterisation comes from his personal experience of women. Of course he couldn't say all that. But he can be indirect about it. Although when you are indirect about something so many times, with context it becomes quite direct. Hehehe

Just look how Gege responded when he was asked a difficult question from Kubo. Female characters are not given much weight in shounen given its target audience. Most female characters in shounen aren't even given half the character development male characters get. And look at Japanese society, it's so patriarchal, who's surprised their representation of female characters is so backward? I doubt most of these mangakas get out very much, to actually put some effort in knowing how women act and why.

Look at Kubo's interview with Gege. Gege's female characters are kickass, as strong as men, as smart and well developed. They have agency, self worth and esteem. Their characters don't revolve around male characters. But female characters like these are beyond Kubo's imagination lol. Look at the female characters in Bleach hahaha. So this is what he asked Gege.

Kubo finds Jjk women formidable because he cannot even fathom independent women, women who don't depend on men for everything. Lol. They can walk shoulder to shoulder with men, they aren't less than men, like they are in most shounen. But of course, Gege cannot tell Kubo these things. Hehe. Kubo is his senior, and the Japanese have a whole set of etiquette on how to behave with one's senpai. Gege won't say anything even remotely offensive to Kubo, so the best way to deal with such things is to be vague and use self deprecating humor, so as to not appear confrontational, it's a communication tactic. I also use these kinds of tactics when talking to difficult people or people in high positions I don't agree with. I have interviewed hundreds of people in my work. So I understand that one needs to be subtle even in their disagreements.

In Shippuden, later on, Sakura was written with heroine like qualities. So what this means is that Kishi doesn't have a very good opinion on either women or women in shounen. She does get some footage in the manga, where other characters praise her skills, like one would expect a heroine to get. She confesses to Sasuke and Naruto both. Never mind the rejection from both. But it's clear that Kishi would never have made Naruto end up with Sakura who treated Naruto this badly. Kishi is not a fool. He plainly says that she comes off as detestable because that's how she was written. Lol.

Lots of rumours have been doing rounds about Naruto's remake or live action film etc. but as far as I know, nothing such has actually materialised. So I wouldn't worry about it either.

I think it's high time that SS, NH and NrSk accept the reality and move on. It's been years. Sasuke is gay. Naruto is gay. Was established as closeted gay in both parts one and two. He would not suddenly defy his character traits and become straight just because NrSk can't keep it in their pants. So pathetic tch. Guys, there is nothing for you in Naruto except heartbreak. Grow up and move on.

SNS at least have legit reason to still be hopeful. The het shippers have nada. Zilch. Zero. Hehe. But well, who can fight desperation? Not these peeps.

[firecurls-27]

I would absolutely love to hear about your new cupchal fankids and is there anything new about the current ones?

(Holy shit this was forever ago-)

Yayayay I’d be happy to tell you! (Both fun facts and new facts!!!!)

Important info: these guys grew/growing up in the 40s-50s, cuphead is not grail’s father, elder kettle outlived the cupbro’s parents, I might make more cupchal kids if I gain more ideas-

Grail

- 16 (oldest)

- nothings really changed personality wise, he still doesn’t like cuphead.

- he used to have a twin sister but I decided just not to use her because I had no ideas for her.

- he has a crush on a guy who works at the soda fountain, and takes all his siblings as an excuse to talk to him.

- has an interest in cars and mechanics.

- owns a motorcycle.

- has no connection to his biological father, yet misses him dearly.

- has a part-time job in janitorial work.

- loves singing and dancing with his mom.

Minty

- 14

- adores those 50s skirts with the poodles and the fun patterns

- gets very overstimulated easily (I can imagine why she’s bullied by her siblings constantly)

- her anxiety is so bad. Oh my god it’s so bad.

- if anything happens the others blame it on her. (Except grail and the twins, they’re better than that.)

- loves music and hopes to be as good as her parents.

- despite not being very sociable, she gets love letters constantly from kids in her grade asking her for dates. Cuphead disapproves of this.

- loves both her parents equally and gets stressed when someone makes her choose sides-

Camo

- 13

- mamas boy.

- loves baseball and hopes to be a baseball player someday.

- porcy-Lynn’s partner in crime (more like a villain sidekick)

- terrible at math. Has minty tutor him.

- loves music and hopes to be as good as his parents.

- thinks before he does.

- good at piano like his pop.

- if he gets in trouble he pins it on minty. She’ll take the fall.

- secretly has a pet turtle he doesn’t let anyone know about.

- inherited the country boy-ness. Likes to help out elder kettle with his property.

Pepper & Lemony

- 12 (lemony is 5 minutes older)

- stereotypical “creepy twins” but in reality they just hate people.

- lemony has an interest in herbology, specifically the poisonous plants.

- pepper has an interest in biology, specifically bones.

- both terrible at singing.

- one prefers women over men, and the other prefers men over women. But I’ll let you guess which is which. ;)

- they both have preferred parents, but won’t say who.

- minty tutors them in math.

- they don’t trust Grail that much, but likes that he takes them out for ice cream.

- they rarely sing with their siblings, but enjoy it.

- one has a black cat, the other has a white cat.

- they love Grimms fairytales and always had cuphead read it to them when they were small.

- defend minty when she gets blamed for Lynn and Camo’s antics.

Porcy-Lynn

- 9

- if Shirley Temple could swear.

- her “hair” is made from coffee foam.

- she really is a sweetheart deep down. deep. deep down.

- ride-or-die.

- loves music and hopes to be as good as her parents.

- inspired by Darla Dimple. Just a little bit less evil.

- criminal mastermind. Has all of 4th grade wrapped around her finger.

- her middle name is “Vessel” after the grandfather she never got to meet. They would’ve been best friends.

- cuphead gives her several nicknames such as sweetness, firecracker, honey-bun, and so on.

- daddy’s girl <:)

- very upset that she’s no longer the youngest.

- if she gets in trouble she pins it on minty. She’ll take the fall.

Junior

- 2 months (youngest)

- just a lil fella.

- just sits there.

- no problems.

- he likes to scream.

- loves his blankie. :)

As I said I may create more kids in the future but who knows ;)