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glorysbox · 7 months

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maybe a fic where reader does end up giving bi-han a son 👀…. man would go crazy for pregnant sex i know this in my heart

bihan x afab!reader (no female pronouns used)

wc: 1.9k

tags: explicitly 18+, pregnancy sex, bihan is soft in his own way, mentions of body image issues, possessive bihan mention

Bi-han is cold. He's a man that doesn't mince his words. Doesn't pull any punches; physical or verbal.

To many, no, to all of the Lin Kuei, this is an apt description of him. Bi-han's word is absolute. He leads a clan of the greatest warriors—he strives and aims for perfection. He crucifies those who don't.

Though recently, a part of you has you doubting the true nature of his character. When it's just you and him, he seems... different. His words aren't so cold. His touch isn't so rough. A part of you knows it's because you're carrying his child—knows that he doesn't really care for you so much as he cares for what you're giving him. The other part of you wishes he acted this way for other reasons.

"On your back." You abide. You always do. Bi-han's voice is low as he speaks, one hand pinching the fat of your hips as the other grazes over the swell of your stomach. He's a man of few words—with you, at least.

"I have to—"

"Quiet. Move your hands." You hesitate, for once. You've always been quick to heed his words—desperate to impress him in one way or another. But... the pregnancy has been hard on you. Hard on your body; hard on your mental state. It's been hard coping with the changes that've come upon your body. The toll is evident in the way you carry yourself. In your hesitance.

It's hard not to notice the frustration that lines Bi-han's face. Your shyness—though not new—only serves to anger him more. He doesn't understand why you're like this. To him, you're, for lack of a better word, perfect. You listen well. You're pleasing to the eyes. You're carrying the next true heir of the Lin Kuei. What more can he ask for?

His brows furrow.

"I won't ask again. Move your hands." He pauses for a moment, his expression still drawn in—yet, he decides to be nicer with you. "I want to see all of you."

He wants to.

You move your hands. It doesn't take long to feel his icy touch on your body again—slipping up the gown that he'd had custom made for you. Bi-han's calloused hands graze over your warm skin, relishing in the feeling of the softness that so directly contrasts his entire being. It's intimate. It's intimate to feel his hands on yours, so adoringly. It's intimate to be on your back for him... when he'd only ever kept you on your stomach.

"You're not allowed to hide from me." His tone is clipped, fingers squeezing at the flesh of your breasts, eliciting a gasp from your lips. "You can't deny me what is mine." He savors the feeling of your swollen breasts cupped in his hands, his aggression muted in favor of your comfort.

Your hands can't help but follow his own. The palms of your hands rest on top of his—wanting to cover yourself—but still regarding his word. You've never touched Bi-han like this, if at all.

He doesn't stop you.

"Bi-han..." You feel his fingers dancing along the hem of your gown, threatening to pull it over your head. Threatening to expose the changes and new state of your body... something that you aren't particularly fond of. You open your mouth to speak, to ask him to leave it on, but you catch sight of the way his eyes look over your body. It's hard to miss. Hard to miss the way his eyes hungrily graze over your body—and for once, your protests seem to die in your throat.

"Again," Bi-han pulls your gown up just far enough to expose your breasts. "Say my name again."

He pinches the bud of your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. It's not lost on him the way you whine ever so slightly—or the way his name falls from your lips in a pathetic and needy whimper. Bi-han puts a hand on each thigh, effectively separating them enough for him to fit himself in between your legs. The protrusion in his pants presses against the soft skin of your thigh—and if you were concentrating enough, you'd feel how it was throbbing just at the sight of you.

His hands run up and down your body, firmly but gently. They cover every inch of you—starting at your neck, moving towards your breasts, feeling the soft skin of your arms, pinching at the fat of your ass. It's almost as if he's trying to commit this very moment to his memory. Bi-han's expression is... soft, in its own way. Soft for only you.

"Don't question me." His voice is low, but insistent. Once more, his hand slides over the swell of your belly. "You insult my choice by hiding from me."

That's the last thing you want.

This time, you make no protest at the feeling of his fingers over your tender nipples. You don't stop him when he's tugging your panties down, past your ankles. You don't stall in an attempt to hide your body anymore. He likes you. All of you. You can hear the sound of your blood thrumming in your ear, quickened at the feeling of the pad of his thumb on your clit. It's gentle. He's gentle.

You feel vulnerable under his gaze. Nervous at the feeling of his eyes trained on you so intensely—and a secret part of you lavishes at the attention your Grandmaster gives only you. His thumb rubs sweet and slow circles on the sensitive bud, gauging your reactions while his other hand toys with the swell of your breasts. You don't miss how Bi-han's lips are parted—don't miss how the tips of his ears are red along with the skin of his cheeks. Only you can see this side of him.

"I'm not satisfied with just one." Bi-han mumbles, hands withdrawing from you to untie the cloth belt that rests on his waist. "You'll give me another child after this."

You're barely listening; too focused on the way his cock springs from his pants—focused on the way precum leaks from the tip and focused on how the stiffness rubs along the slick of your folds. Bi-han is like this for you. For your body.

He's gentle as his cock urges your folds open. Before you were pregnant, everything Bi-han did with you was fast and rough—no concern for you or how you would've wanted to be fucked. Now... Bi-han finds himself putting more thought into the way that he touches you. You liked it before, and you like this now. Bi-han, though, finds himself preferring these slow moments much more—preferring to take his time, to focus on how you feel and eliciting those pretty noises from your mouth that he's come to obsess over. His cock slowly splits you open, filling you inch by inch—coated in your slickness that threatens to slip down the curve of your ass in sticky droplets. His hands grip on your hips, not harshly, as he keeps you anchored under him. The hunger in his expression is palatable; the wet noise of him sinking inside you to the hilt stirring a feeling of arousal deep in your gut.

He watches. Bi-han watches the way your jaw slacks, watches the way you grip onto the muscle of his arms, revels in the feeling of your tightness clinging to him so desperately.

"Bi-han..." Your voice is a pathetic whine, teetering into nothingness as he fully sheathes himself inside of you. "Please... I want more."

Yes. Bi-han prefers you like this.

"More? You're in no position to make requests of me." His cock drags slowly along your sensitive walls, hips rolling into yours almost lazily as his eyes stay trained on your expression. Despite his words, he seems to be giving you exactly what you want. His touch is bordering on possessive as he continues to slowly, agonizingly stretch you open with movements that edge on the feeling of love.

“You’re good to me.” The words are foreign falling from Bi-han’s lips. He’s never been one to compliment anyone, at all, but he seems to be breaking a lot of the previously set expectations of him for you. His tone is hushed… needy, even. To him, you’re beautiful—not that he’d ever say it out loud—but his actions tell you that enough. The way his eyes are hungrily watching the bounce of your breasts or the way they’re trained on the sight of his length sloppily and languidly sinking inside of you tell you everything you’d ever need to know.

Bi-han is less reserved as the rhythm of his hips quicken, the squelching slapping of your bodies joined together forgotten in favor of the audible noises that freely fall from his lips. He’s never let his guard down like this… so quickly, without another thought. You’re the only one that can make him lose his inhibitions like this.

“Bi-han—” His name falls from your lips like second nature, the fluttering and spasming of your walls around him pulling a grunt from him. The way you mewl; the breathlessness of your voice, it serves to only increase the pace of his hips against your own. You’re all glassy-eyed and needy and so wet for him to the point where he finds himself nearly losing control. Your nails dig into the skin of his arms—and he doesn’t stop you.

The rock of your breasts is intoxicating to him, his free hand gripping and kneading at the soft and swollen flesh that’s only become more sensitive with each week that’s passed. More accurately, every part of you intoxicates him beyond belief. He can’t get enough.

It’s not long after that until his hips begin snapping into your own, pumping inside of you with such a fervor that has your thighs trembling wrapped around him and squeaks falling from your lips with each particularly angled thrust of his cock inside of you. Your mind is fuzzy at the feeling of him rutting so desperately inside of you; clouded by the feeling of his hands gripping and greedily squeezing at every part of you that he can reach.

Had it not been for the pronounced shape of your belly, he would’ve opted to swallow the pretty noises he drives from your lips with his own.

Your skin is hot to the touch—and when you feel his icy fingertips in the apex between your thighs, you struggle to hold back the squeak that the sensation forces out of you. The pad of his thumb toys with your clit once more; his ministrations rough and sharp and coaxing you closer to an orgasm. Bi-han grunts at the sight of you—the sight of your back arching and head lolling to the side and the sight of your lips parted and moaning for him. His thumb presses into your clit harshly, providing pressure that matches the particularly deep thrust that he couples with it.

His cock drives into you; burying to the hilt at the feeling of your slick walls clinging and clenching and squeezing around the shaft—thighs unconsciously jolting at the sensation. His hips grind against yours—serving to only heighten the sensation that has you trembling under him so desperately—your orgasm washing over you in waves so intense that you’re whining and shaking and your toes are curling as you keen out intelligible babbles about how good it feels. You don’t even realize how he’s spilt thick ropes of his cum inside of you until the sensation of it seeping out of you.

The feeling of cold hands on the skin of your cheek, thumb swiping away the tears that’d slipped from the pleasure, ground you. How intimate of him.

#nsydfw #bihan smut #bi han smut #mk bihan #bi han x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat smut #mk1 smut #mortal kombat 1 smut #mortal kombat x reader #mk #writing

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pearlprincess02 · 3 months

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scorpio sun, pisces moon, sagittarius rising, scorpio mercury, sagittarius venus

scorpio sun: is a night fixed water sign. a deep and complex sign, both its symbol and its glyph represent the scorpion, its stinger suggesting the potentially stinging nature of scorpio. scorpio represents transformation, depth, emotions, intensity, passion. also represent phoenix, a symbol of rebirth. scorpio is seen as magnetic, powerful, private and sometimes intimidating to others. scorpio is a sign that wants to see through the soul of a person, wants to see and understand the dark sides of a person. scorpio will always want to see the ugly side of a person. scorpio is a sign that is quite individual and likes to focus on a single person. what is also known about scorpio is that it gives each person a different kind of love. scorpio is a sign that has difficulty trusting and has trust issues, as it often feels that people will betray it. therefore, scorpios usually have a small circle of people and only those they really trust. scorpio can also be possessive, jealous and wants to have you all to himself. when a scorpio loves, he loves with all his heart. scorpio will give you his soul and heart. scoprio will sacrifice a lot for the people he loves. but if you betray his love, he will never forgive you. scorpio is also a sign that takes a long time to let go of a person and get over them.

pisces moon: you are too giving, humanitarian, charitable, selfless or not enough. you might take care or help out every close friend, acquaintances or stranger, but NOT your own family members, loved ones or your partner. so try to put that in check. you might be undereating or eat foods that don't nourish your body. again, substance overuse can be present in subtle ways, such as drinking too much coffee in the day.

sagittarius rising: ok legsss fr tho they have stallion legs, also likes the finer things in life and will probably get them because they’re lucky in life and blessed, really funny placement and someone you want to have around all the time to do fun shit with, carefree for the most part but they have certain triggers that they’ll cause a fit over, usually hates commitment (depending on other aspects and planets) because they don’t want to be tied down or have a loss of freedom

scorpio mercury: your thinking is above all intense, deep (you always delve into things and evaluate them from all possible angles). a lot of times you think like the fbi - you investigate all possible things and you want to get to the bottom of the truth. your thinking is never without meaning or control. you are always in control of what is happening. and everything you say is very well thought out, you usually choose with what words you say something and in what way. many times your thinking is a secret, which means that people never find out what you are thinking and that they can often judge you as a person who is a secretive. you read other people very well. also u have very sharp mind.

sagittarius venus: sagittarius venus’s approach love in a playful and fun manner. this is why they prefer their partners to be witty and humorous. they’re optimistic and joyful in love. due to that 9th house energy, sagittarius venus individuals usually fall for those from different cultures and backgrounds. they’re incredibly open minded and prefer dating someone different to them in a way. however, they do get the stereotype that they’re “noncommittal”. this stems from the fact that they value their independence and can get restless if their relationship feels stagnant. they seek a partner who they can experience adventures with and grow together spiritually. above all, they value their freedom and independence so they need a partner who is willing to accommodate that.

(@chaoticlyfzz)

ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ

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f4nd0m-fun · 6 months

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I keep coming up with cryptid!Batfam ideas, and @hallowsden is a very helpful coconspirator.

This is the Hell-touched AU

Constantine paused as the figure coalesced into a human shape, though his magic sight was privy to the multitude of eyes and shadows that stretched as far as he could see. "Bloody hell," he muttered, pulling out a cigarette, only to pause as several eyes bore into him, shadows slinking over, refusing to let him light the smoke.

"Perhaps I should have brought the swear jar." While the voice seemed normal at its most audible point, there was echoes and screeches buried beneath the words.

Before John could finish processing the jar comment, Batman stepped fourth and spoke in some language not of earth.

Constantine may have been magically versed in many languages but even he could only catch a few words, one of which angled somewhere towards 'caregiver'.

"Bats?"

"Not now, Clark." Part of his words dipped into the incomprehensible tongue, almost an overlay before he cleared his throat. "An issue has come up in Gotham, I am needed."

Gotham... somewhere the hellblazer refused to step foot in, the land reeking of sulfur and rotting magic, the air stagnant with pain and hopelessness, a city chained by greed and insanity.

The monstrosity's form layered over itself and Batman, before the two were gone with hardly a sound, no hint but the lingering scent and magic showcasing that they had ever stood in the room.

John shuddered and finally lit his cigarette. "Bloody Gothamites, the whole lot is cursed."

In this AU, Gotham is a part of hell, whether it was originally so and rose to the mortal realm, or because of the demon chained to its land - Lady Gotham. Whatever the reason, curses run rampant, and Lady was already weakened by being forced into the mortal realm. Because of this, she cannot do much, but nearly everyone in Gotham is demon-touched in some manner, but some also have inklings of being angrl-touched, some more than others.

The Waynes and Kanes are among the most hell-touched due to their long lineage in Gotham, but there are those Gotham tries to welcome with open arms and, in doing so, warps them to be more demonic than they should be as a newcomer. This does not always turn out well, as the chains on her limit her control

Some who are hell-touched have demonic traits, usually very minor and easy enough to excuse as meta traits if anyone ever asks. Others have much stronger traits, and there's the lucky ones who can morph their form, though they will never fully lose the traits of their demon-blood.

----------

Alfred seems the epitome of a normal butler from the outside, until you realize how unflappable he was towards Gotham's chaos, or hear his tales of being a veteran in years long gone. Perhaps he's yet another demon, right? But no, not even that fits him. And perhaps you'll never be privy to the full truth, but the Waynes and Gotham herself know. Alfred is no mere demon, he is eldritch, from before the world was even a speck in the Creator's eye. And while the children are physically fighting for Gotham, he is there for them, but he is also there for Gotham, spiritually untangling what he can from her.

Bruce Wayne's appearance doesn't seem to relay his ancestry as much as one might think, but his fangs and claws are clear for any to see, as well a his piercing blue eyes, glowing life sulfur flames amidst a backdrop of black sclera. Batman, on the other hand, has stiffly curving horns arcing over his head, leathery bat wings and a sturdy tail, with digitigrade legs and talons, perfect for scaring enemies or for carrying what appears to be his young.

Dick Grayson was never truly one of Gotham's. She certainly granted him care and consideration and treated him as kindly as her curses would let her, but he was never able to accept more than the slightest blessings, if they could be considered as such. He never learned to fly like Batman did, but he became faster and stronger, his only visible demonic traits being nails and teeth slightly sharpened. Even so, he put forth as much effort as the rest of the colony, doing his utmost to help anyone he could.

Barbara may have lost her ability to walk, but that doesn't mean she's defenseless. She still has her claws and horns, and a unique affinity for technology that she's worked hard to hone after what happened to her.

Jason Todd had wings too small for much more than gliding, but his autumn rich curls hid the beginnings of majestic horns, his pale blue eyes shining with a hope few in Gotham could muster. But Robin had augments to his wings, enabling short flight to follow his mentor, at least until his grounding. Gotham could not let go of him for long, and dragged him back herself, but failed to do so completely, watching him be whisked away by Talia. Red Hood never regained his wings, not fully, more bone than flesh, what few feathers left struggling not to fall off. Pain arcs through his body from time to time, but he has a duty to Gotham and her people, one he would willingly choose any day. As for his pit rage, it is the equivalent of eating something you cannot process, as his system already had its fill of demonic energy from Gotham.

Tim Drake was born in Gotham, but his family's adventures dragged him throughout the world until the tender preteens. Before that only, he had been loosely tutored on the travels, but now his parents had deemed public school of importance, and also thought he could help organize their collections when he was not learning. One night, while cleaning up a gallery, he found an artifact he apparently had not put away yet, a statue that Catwoman would find quite fascinating. Upon interacting with it, pain ricocheted through him. When it finally stopped, his form had been twisted. For anyone else the statue would have merely given one the abilities of a cat, perhaps a curse to go with them, but his supernatural features were malleable enough for the power to take advantage of, turning him into a human feline. Eventually, he went to join Batman as Stray, knowing he needed a Robin but not wishing to take the name on himself. Many rogues seemed to think him a child of Batman and Catwoman, and they oft went uncorrected. He likes to perch on his family.

Cassandra is demon-touched primarily through the league and proximity to the pits, but nothing strong enough to truly take root until Gotham welcomed her to her new home. While her features are limited to black sclera and not much else, she is strongest in the ability department, able to literally move through shadows and hide in them at will, though she cannot speak while doing so and it can be hard watching for a shadow signing. Due to her past and being hell-touched, she is a bit stronger than Dick, though not as physically strong as those who grew up in Gotham.

Duke is more angel-touched than the others are, resulting in the enhanced strength of his light abilities and visions. That doesn't mean there isn't demon in him though, it just showcases itself more quietly.

Stephanie may very well have the sharpest claws and fangs of the family, but her razor wit is one of her best attacks depending on who you ask. Her and Cass sometimes seem joined at the hip, and, while their styles are somewhat opposite, they work quite well together.

Damien was created with the blood of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul, grown in a Lazarus Womb. He looks like a tiefling, with skin dark like Talia but tinted the slightest bit red like his father, burning green eyes like Talia but black sclera like Bruce, and the very same Wayne horns and talons that dominate the generations. He does not have wings and it seems unlikely he will ever have them, but that does not stop him in his tracks.

#hell-touched au #Batfam au #Batman au #batfamily au #batfam #Batman #batfamily #demon-blood au #cryptid au #cryptid Batman #cryptid batfamily #cryptid batfam #cryptid

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mirai-e-jump · 2 months

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TV Guide & TV Life, March 2024 Issues ft. Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger Main Cast Member Interviews (translations below)

TV Life 3/15 Issue, Publication: February 28, 2024

Iuchi: When you first heard the title, "Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger," were you surprised?

Suzuki: I said, "Huh?" in response. I also said "Is that true?" (laughs).

Hayama: For sure, I kept wondering what it meant (laughs).

Iuchi: Did it mean "to cheer up" or "the sound of a car's engine"? I wondered which one "Boonboom" was, but it ended up being a double meaning for both.

Hayama: It seems that "Explosive (Bakuage)" also incorporates the staff's desire to make Super Sentai even more "bakuage" than ever before.

Suzuki: It's upbeat and outlandish in a good way, and leaves an impact.

Saito: Other than the title, I was also surprised by the visual impact of Boonboomger.

Soma: They have tires on their faces.

Saito: These forms have a past, nostalgic feel to them. The more you look at them, the cooler they get.

Soma: When I see them fighting, I get alot more attached to them.

Saito: I think they'll be easier for children to draw pictures of.

Soma: I want them to draw alot.

Iuchi: Genba's hairstyle too. All you have to do is go around in circles a bunch.

Soma: No, no! My hair isn't yakisoba! (laughs).

Iuchi: When I was a kid, I liked miniature cars and played with them alot. However, I never really knew how cars were made. Taiya in particular is a master of development and modification, so I first made sure that I knew about cars, and then I'll try to make him look mature and calm as I play him.

Hayama: What I'm most conscious of, is being cool. I was told that "Red" and "Blue" have always appeared in every Super Sentai production. When I heard that, I felt more responsible. I want children to think that Boonboomger is cool even after they grow up. Especially since Ishiro is the coolest of cool, I try to be like that in the way he stands, and even in the way he speaks.

Suzuki: Mira is a bright, energetic, and innocent kid who enjoys everything. I try to be like Mira from the moment I enter the set. I also try to express myself clearly so that the viewers can understand what kind of emotions Mira is feeling when she speaks and moves.

Saito: Since Jou's a police officer, I started by researching the profession. I watched alot of footage and close up interviews at police academies and learned what it was like to be a police officer. While maintaining the seriousness of a police officer that I felt, at the same time, I want to show him as the cheerful and lively Jou that's eccentric when he needs to be.

Iuchi: Also, the angle of his salute.

Saito: Yeah. I'm careful about that too.

Iuchi: When I imitated it alittle, he said, "It's wrong!" (laughs).

Saito: There's a proper way of doing it. Such as it being with your right hand, not left.

Soma: Genba's rather mysterious and doesn't show his true feelings. He's a unique character that hasn't been seen before, so I try to play him freely without being restrained by anything. I try not to make it too elaborate. I think it'll make it feel more "Genba like."

Iuchi: All five of them are unique. Let's "bakuage" through the whole year so that as many people as possible can enjoy it! _

How would you describe yourself in terms of "Explosive(ly) XX"?

Iuchi Haruhi is: Explosively Stubborn It's fine to be particular, but I've been reminded to listen to the opinions of those around me. I think I've gotten alittle better at this compared to in the past. However, I'm still stubborn in some areas.

Hayama Yuki has: Explosively Long Legs All the small, medium and large sized pants at clothing stores are so long that they don't fit. I thought it was fine, since Ishiro often crosses his legs, which makes him stand out. I'm also prideful (laughs).

Suzuki Miu is: The Explosive Mother Everyone calls me "Mother" on set. This is because I'm the one who arranges everyone's shoes and puts away our lunch boxes. I'm Boonboomger's mama (laughs).

Saito Ryu is: Explosively Extreme I take what I like to do seriously, but I never do anything that I don't want to do. I'm either at 0 or 100. That's why I'm serious in some strange ways (laughs).

Soma Satoru is: Explosively Fun I love anything that's fun, and I like to enjoy everything, whether it's having fun at work or in my private life. I try to keep my spirits as high as possible.

TV Guide 3/8 Issue, Publication: February 28, 2024

Iuchi: When I heard that I was going to be apart of the Super Sentai series, my mind went completely blank. The first time I really felt it was at the introduction meeting. When I saw the documents on the desk, I thought, "Ah, so this isn't a joke" (laughs).

Hayama: Ever since I started acting, it's been my dream to be apart of the Super Sentai series, and this was the third time I auditioned for a role. I felt like I had taken the baton from the blue's of "Avataro Sentai Donbrothers" and "Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger", both of whom I know very well. If I was going to do it, I wanted to be blue, so when the decision was made, I immediately asked, "Which color?" and was very happy when they said blue.

Suzuki: I went to the audition thinking, "I'm definitely going to be picked," but when I was finally chosen, I felt a great sense of responsibility and pressure. I strongly felt that since my name would be etched into this historic series, I had to be prepared to take on the challenge.

Saito: I've admired heroes since I was a kid, and I entered the entertainment industry to be apart of the Super Sentai series, so I was very happy when I was chosen. When I put the suit on at costume fitting, I realized that I could finally become a real hero.

Suzuki: You say you entered the entertainment industry because of the Super Sentai series, but what will you do when this is over?

All: Are you going to disappear? (laughs)

Saito: No, the Super Sentai series was just my first goal.

Suzuki: It's a production you absolutely had to do. I'm glad (laughs).

Soma: I've had multiple auditions for the Super Sentai series, but this time I was chosen, so I was very happy. Just like Miu-chan said, I felt pressure behind this happiness. But, on the other hand, I hope to enjoy the pressure and do my best together with my wonderful friends.

Saito: Many of the recent Super Sentai's have a flashy look to them, but Boonboomger has an old fashioned coolness, it's as if, in a good way, we're back in the Showa era. It's very appealing.

Suzuki: Ryu-kun, you're always mentioning the names of various Super Sentai series.

Soma: He's the most knowledgeable out of all of us. He's the Sentai master! (laughs).

Saito: I'm from the "Engine Sentai Go-onger" generation, but thanks to the influence of my sister and mother, I've also seen some of the older ones.

Suzuki: When I heard the title, I thought it was an interesting one, but at the same time, I thought it would be an uplifting and upbeat work.

Iuchi: I'm very happy that I'll be involved in the memories of today's children through this production.

Soma: I think it's a production that focuses mainly on smaller children, so I hope alot of children will watch it.

Hayama: I didn't play with toy cars that much as a kid, but even I think it's cool to see singers turned actors appearing in dramas. Cars are a theme that's easily understood by smaller children, so I feel explosive (bakuage) every day when playing the role (laughs). _

Q: What's the moment when your mood explodes?

Iuchi: I like to write lyrics and compose music with my guitar as a hobby. When I think things like, "I've got the chorus" or, "I've finished a whole song," I feel an explosive sense of accomplishment. But, I haven't let people listen to it…(*The other members then say, "We want to listen to it!"), Well then, I'll play it for you sometime over the next year.

Hayama: I like to appreciate music as an art form, and I'll use music apps to play music randomly by genre depending on my mood. During that time, if I happen to land on a song that I like, at that moment, my mood rises dramatically.

Suzuki: I have the biggest blast when I eat ramen! I really like noodles, but I especially love ramen. Even when I'm exhausted after filming all day long, I've still got energy after eating some ramen. Truthfully, I post the ramen I eat on a secret account with zero followers that no one sees. I write my impressions of what I eat for my own record.

Saito: I like to do muscle training, and I get excited about it. I get more excited when I can actually see my muscles growing after my workout is over, rather than during it. I'll look in the mirror and be like, "Nice~ My muscles are growing~" (laughs).

Soma: I'm from Shizuoka, where I used to play soccer, so the moment I kick a ball is the best moment for me. When I'm playing soccer, I get the biggest rush out of it when I get to play the way I want to play and when punting the ball. It's a great feeling. I put all my stress into the ball…but, I don't have that much stress, so my plays are weak (laughs).

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devoureddreaa · 2 months

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diary of a mad black woman

i’m totally not projecting in this /hj. buuuuuut, i love love love the movie: diary of a mad black woman. probably the best piece of fiction tyler perry has created. but, i hope you enjooooy!!

cw: toji is an asshole (mb…), you’re gonna be kind of a bitch too if you squint, relationship issues, infidelity issues (on both sides), an established relationship coming to an end, you’re not getting back with him….. (sorry not sorry), uhh y/n is black woman coded (hii ting at the title). lemme know if i forgot anything !!!!

five long, draining years.

five years ago..you married toji right after you two graduated. don’t worry, your clan didn’t sell you. marrying toji is what you wanted to do. only god knew how bad of a decision you were

toji fushiguro, had his owns dreams and aspirations. ones that most possibly didn’t involve you whatsoever, but you forced yourself into them. the first year was just fine, it was like you were laying on cloud nine.

that was until you were pushed off that cloud.

he moved you away from your home. he wanted to “forget about the past” he said, and leave everything behind. and that included your own family..you didn’t know how long it had been since you last heard their voices. now you were isolated, and that only made things worse cause toji knew what sort of power he had over you now.

you did anything in your power to stay in his vision. whether that was dealing with his manipulative behavior, or even his infidelity..you sticked around.

cause you loved him??

or cause you didn’t have anyone else to go to?

weird, cause then you got kicked out of your own home and he got a divorce. he packed all your shit in a truck and replaced you for some hooker. bet enough booger sugar and lube got her to stay. you drove that truck back over to your grandmothers house…who almost shot you since it was the middle of the night. you got over it after a few months. got a job, made friends, reconnected with family..even your mother, and maybe even found some newfound love.

that’s until toji got injured and he was temporarily paralyzed. the hooker he wanted so badly wanted to leave him for dead, but you..were still legally his wife. so you made the last call.

to keep him alive.

as you sat there, thinking about picking up the pieces of what used to be your life..you realized something. every room in this place that you used to call home held a painful memory for you. even though toji’s suffering…something in you wants him to suffer even more. few months in a divorce can take a person through just as many emotions as five years in a marriage. oh, and you’re starting to feel all of them at once.

but the one that is clear…is rage.

now here you were, in your old home, in the office looking for old bill files for him. while he sat in his wheelchair…quietly.

shuffling through the stake of papers, you started to shake your head. “i don’t see it..”

toji’s head perked up, “you don’t see it?” he repeated, in somewhat of a mocking tone..

“no.”

he scoffed, “you really are good for nothing.” here he goes again. “find my bank statement and get the accountant on the phone.”

you looked up from the stack of papers and looked up at him. into those dead cold eyes, those eyes that used to give you so much love..but now…they just give you a whole lotta hurt.

“then call somebody, anybody and you can leave.” toji motioned down to the wheelchair he was sitting it. “this, is not gonna beat me.”

“oh really?” you’re tone was cold, ice cold. you were watching a grown man, that was fully capable of finding his own bank statements, throw a fit cause you couldn’t find it.

his legs were paralyzed, not his fucking arms.

“yea, and whatchu staring at?”

“you get stabbed in the spine, and you’re still the same.”

“i am who i am, and im gonna die that way. toots.” toji gave you a dirty, damn near disgusting look as he looked you up and down. “i don’t even know why you’re here, i’m not givin’ you shit. matter fact, where are my kids?”

“you done, toji?”

“yknow what bitch, just get out.”

you could feel your jaw clenched up when he said that.

he pinched the bridge of his nose, “i ask you to do one simple thing, and you can even do that after five— get out!”

you dropped the papers that were in your hands, you got up from the rather comfortable leather seat. grabbed your things from off the desk and proceeded to take your exit back home quietly.

but then you stopped.

who the hell is he? the man who hasn’t dont anything but hurt you. and now…you were about to let him keep doing exactly that? keep letting him control you like some toy. nah…that ain’t gon slide. before you could even think about it, your arm swung forward then swung back..the back of your hand connecting with toji’s face.

you turned yourself back around and leaned down to face him, placing your hands on the arm rest of the wheelchair..practically caging him in.

“let me explain something to you.” your tone of voice was sick, nasty. it was damn near like you were spitting pure vemon. “old y/n..is gone. and you will not talk to me like that.”

“now i came here..to help you. but now, i’m here to get even.”

“y/n, you—”

“shut up!” your yell echoed through the quiet home, the rain outside just barely being able to heard over it.

“you want your whore..” you walked over and grabbed the picture of toji and his little hooker..that was framed in a pretty little frame. “and your damn kids?”

you raised your arms up and threw the picture onto the ground, shattering the frame. “do you see what you left me for?!” you bend down and quickly picked up the picture, shoving it in toji’s face.

“this..is what you left me for!”

you started to rip the picture to shreds right in front of him, letting the loose parts fall to the floor. “she didn’t give a damn ‘bout you toji, she told them to let you die.!”

you walked back over by the desk, using your arms to sweep the top of it clean..everything falling on the floor, some of it even breaking.

“and yknow what’s funny? hm?” a condescending smile grew on your face. “i fucking gave you life boy, even though you took it from me.”

you’ve never seen toji so quiet and still before for how long you’ve known, but oh, that didn’t mean you were about to let up. you grabbed a play bat that was sitting on the floor..

“ya kids..your boys.” you swung the plastic bat and hit toji in the head. “i wanted children toji! and had you not been a public sex-stop, we would have them!”

you backed away and anger started to consume you. it showed in your face, your body movement, even in the way your heart was racing. you didn’t know if this felt good or not..

“got me all stressed out, my hair fallin’ out, my weight up ‘n down, can’t keep anything down! two miscarriages! you took life from me, and you never even said ‘i’m sorry’..”

was that it? the end of your rant.

hell nah, you walked out of that office. and you let toji sit there alone for a few days. when you can back it smelt rancid.

“god..” you groaned and covered your nose. walking up behind him. “ya smell like shit.”

you grabbed the handle bars and started to walk, then you started to run towards the bathroom.

“y/n. hell are doing?” toji asked, a bit afraid (that’s a new one.)

you ignored his concerns, barging through the bathroom doors to reveal a tub filled with water and a little bit of bubbles.

“y/n, stop—!”

the wheelchair hit the edge and toji was flipped over into the water. you pushed the wheelchair back and watched him, in silence for a bit.

“bathe him, feed him, clothe him..they say.” you say on the edge of the bathtub just watching him. “what bout me, huh? and jesus, stop lookin’ like an idiot.”

you begin to light a cigarette while toji just laid in the slightly cold water. “you try and..kick me out of our house, and keep me away from our money? hell nah. fuck nah, at that.”

you looked back over to see that toji’s head was started to submerge under the water. you quickly got up, dropped your cigarette in the water, and practically dragged toji back up to the surface.

“remember toji, i was there..when all you had was me.”

you stepped out of the tub and left him there.

later, you both sat at the oddly long dinner table. you on one side, and toji on the other. weird thing was you had a plate with a salad on it, and toji? he didn’t have a thing in front of him.

meanwhile, you were eating like it was the best salad you had ever had.

suddenly, toji had..started to cry? “y/n..”

your eyes perked up, “awe, you hungry?”

maybe he was. but who fucking cared? “hm..maybe you should go into the kitchen and get yourself something to eat then hm?” the smile on your face was brutal

“christina..” toji quietly cried out.

you looked over your shoulder, confused. “christina?!” you looked back over at the pitiful man in front of you..trying to hold back to boiling laughter. “christina’s gone…”

you smiled wildly, “your little tramp didn’t have any money to her so she left.” looking back down at your plate using your fork to pick up for more food. “just like your slut.”

“she packed all her shit, and some of yours toji fushiguro..and went on her merry way.” you started to laugh. “come to think of it..she cleaned out your bank account. all of it!”

“oh, sweetheart, you tried to keep from me? and she ended up taking it all..huh?!” you started to laugh even harder, throwing your head back and slamming your fist on to the table.

this was even better then therapy.

“toji..you are like soooo many men.” you paused to get a good look at him. “you’d rather lay with dogs then make it work with a women.”

“you’re a bitch ass, toji..a coward.”

you forcefully pushed your plate of food, sending it flying across the table towards toji. it ended up landing on his lap and some fell onto the floor. but you sure as hell weren’t gonna pick it up, you got up and went upstairs to go to sleep.

toji ended up getting better, and you let all your anger out on him..later forgiving him. you took that divorce as a blessing, the thing you used to see as curse. he still loved you, but you didn’t love him the same. you didn’t want to be back with him. pain can hurt someone, but it won’t change anybody; and toji is a perfect example of that.

but you? oh you knew better. and anyone that would cross you in the future would learn that.

signed,

a mad black woman.

did it well…and did it good. PLSASE WATXH HIS MOVIE, I LOVE IT!!! anywho coming with the content..smash that like button for more bangers!!! /lhj but, hope you enjoyed!! love you baaaaaaai (if you saw any typos..not you didn’t)

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2kmps · 9 months

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the monster in the closet loves you dearly

notes; 583, murder of teenagers & adults, 15+

when you were sixteen, the most malicious pair of kids were dared to take up the mantle of bravery by ducking into the crawlspace in your bedroom. it had all been in jest; this entire party had been at their behest and insistence once they learned you lived in the most haunted house in town.

as you felt it had been your duty, you suggested for them all to find a different game to play. but, just as they did at school between each class period with jailhouse tips from stolen cigarettes from their parents' ashtrays- you went ignored. so, you let your tender-hearted warbling whittle to silence as you straddled a chair, arms draping freely, swaying to the beat of a ticking clock on the wall.

"hey! it's been fifteen minutes!" crowed out one girl between scandalous fits of giggles, fist rapping across the door. "come on! you guys are holding up the game!"

there was never a response, and the rest of them functioned like a hive mind, eyes turning to you for an answer.

simply, effortlessly, and wordlessly, you smiled at them while tipping the weight of your chair on two legs. "why don't you open the door?"

when they did, there was no one inside and nowhere to go. the police didn't have any issues with corroborating stories, after all: they hadn't come out, and none of you had left the bedroom at all that evening until they screamed and diffused, pounding down the steps until your parents intervened.

he didn't come back to visit you until all the ruckus settled, and your parents had left your room after a few too pointed, meaningful stares and cautionary warnings. the crawlspace door opened with a crack later in the night, your lights dimmed just enough to discern the shape of his long appendages spreading across the wall.

"at least you weren't loud about it this time."

you said that at least three times more, even once you moved out of your parent's haunted house to university, and then into your own home in your late twenties. he had found comfort in knowing where you were, following you across the globe, squeezing into the smallest, black crevices that he had to.

waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting for the horrid friend to do you wrong too many times, the rogue electrician thinking he could make an easy payday. most recent was the boyfriend who thought he could get away with leaving a mark on you.

"can you look inside?" your knuckles turned stark against the doorknob. the throbbing in your cheek came nowhere near to how hard you ground your teeth, how viscously your rage festered in your stomach. "I don't know where the breaker is to turn the lights back on."

you were sure to lock the door after him, headphones drowning out the agonized screams and clamor resonating from your coat closet. when you returned hours later, the only trace left behind was a single coat in a heap on the floor.

"thanks for not leaving a mess." this came after you rearranged things inside, feeling his sprawling claws climbing the side of your body until one felt across your tender cheek. you tried not to recoil from the touch, it wasn't often you had the chance to spend time with him like this.

once, you had believed that those you fed to him kept his love for you. now you knew that it was his love that kept you safe.

divider; @/anlian-aishang

repost from my deleted blog: cardeneiv

#monster x you #monster x reader #monster story #monster fiction #monster fic #monster x human #monster x y/n #terato #monster in the closet #monster in the closet x reader #monster in the closet x you #monsterfkr

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squirmhoney · 1 year

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Dependency Issues - Part Eight

A/N: Long awaited update is here finally. Thank you for all the comments on the last part, I read them all they made me smile to see people so interested. Haven’t proofread this part but really wanted to get it out so enjoy. Warnings: Dark. Non Con. Dub Con. Incest. Manipulation. Coercive behaviour (at times) Full on smut. Dependency Issues. (like reader has some serious issues when it comes to Aegon) Unhealthy relationship. Posessive Aegon. Angst . 18+ Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader (Rhaeneyra mother and non specified father) Word Count: 3K

Master list Part Seven

Lavender hortensias...

They were the flowers of the week, being placed in the vase on your bed side table. Aegon had made its mission to refresh it every week, being one of the many things he was doing to make you see how much he loved you. You couldn't even deny how your stomach fluttered when you received the first bouquet, unable to hide the smile on your face about the fact he even remembered your favourite colour. And even as the weeks turned into months and he continued with it, it never grew old, your lips twisting up into a grin without warning at the sight.

"Thank you," you whispered, still lying in your bed. "I love them."

He lingered in the room, a hand on your massive stomach as he stared at it.

"Yes?" You asked.

You knew the queues from Aegon, the silence and the rocking back and forth on his feet. He wanted something and you knew it was probably going to be pushing past your boundaries rule. But lately you had been slipping up with that one, only surprised that you hadn't allowed him to anything sexual yet.

However, you could see the look on his face, the way his eyes darkened every time you walked in the room as if you were some sort of meal for him. And with each day you denied him, like a predator he only grew hungrier and more excited as if it was some sort of game you were playing with him. You couldn't even deny how turned on you were at times, the hormones not doing anything to help and you knew one wrong move and you'd be putty in his hands again.

"It's nothing," he huffed, retreating his hand away from you. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before you could deny him. "Want me to bring you breakfast up?"

"No," you told him, shaking your head. "I'll get changed and come down. But could you have some of those muffins waiting for me."

"Of course," he said, giving you one of those boyish grins.

You couldn't even help yourself, hand wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Your lips connected to his, taking a long time to move against each other but then it gets more heated, Aegon becoming hungry for more. You wanted to give into him, open your legs up and allow him access but you knew better, so you pulled away.

"I should get changed."

He nodded in agreement, pulling away from you and leaving the room.

A heat had flooded between your legs and you couldn't stop yourself as your fingers touched your lips, wishing to kiss him once again.

"How long is it for?" You asked, with a grimace on your face. You were lying down on the couch, Aegon behind you with his arms wrapped around your body. You knew you had set boundaries but in your vulnerable state, you felt like you needed him more than ever. It was easy to sink his touch, forgetting about everything you had said.

"Two nights," Aegon answered, a hand rubbing over your belly. "And you could always come with me."

You groaned, closing your eyes as you leaned your head further against his shoulder. "In my condition, I really don't think that's a good choice."

"It's still an option."

"As if your mum would let me go," you said, sighing as his hands started to massage at your sides. "I'll miss you though."

He hummed in agreement, placing a feather light kiss behind your ear.

"I'll have to sleep in your bed," you whispered, smiling at the thought. "Seeing as your clothes don't fit me now."

"And maybe when I get back you can stay in there."

You let the thought linger for a moment, leaving Aegon on edge. "Maybe."

"Maybe when I get back we can talk about what's going to happen when our baby comes." His hands were trailing over your skin, fingers playing with the loose dress that covered you.

"Baby steps," you told him, letting your eyes flutter close as you relaxed further into his touch. "Patience."

Aegon's leg worked underneath you, slipping between your own to pry them apart. "I have been patient."

His words made the skin of your neck prickle, feeling yourself become turned on with the low tone of his voice. He could sense how he was affecting you, knowing the way your teeth bit on your bottom lip to keep those soft sounds at bay. He just needed you to cave and with your hormones running high at the moment he knew he just needed to push a few buttons to get you there.

"I've been so patient..." his hands rested on the top of your breasts now, fingers flicking against the hardened nipples. "...and seeing you like this is driving me insane." His hands cupped your tits finally, giving them a gentle squeeze as he played with them.

"We really shouldn't," you protested in a sharp inhale, making no move to get away from him.

"I think you should let me take care of you."

"Take care of me," you pondered on the thought, a gentle sigh escaping at the feel of his hands. "I like the sound of that."

"And don't you think I've been so patient that I deserve some sort of reward."

One hand of his was sliding down across your body, so slowly you felt yourself fighting to not push it closer to where you needed him. Your hips were moving on there, grinding against him and the surface of the couch. It was like within seconds you became his pathetic mess, so eager for him to touch you.

"Let me help you."

His hand cupped your cunt through your clothes, making you instantly buck your hips up into his touch. You let out at whine, lips parting as you twisted your head to look at him.

Aegon had you right where he wanted you.

But then a voice made him with draw his hand from you as he glad at someone by the door.

"I just got a call from Grandfather and said he's picking you up for your flight in half an hour."

"I know," Aegon hissed at his brother, tensing underneath you.

You got up, lifting yourself with a bit of struggle from the couch. Both Aegon and Aemond reach to help you but you place your hands up to stop them.

"I'm fine," you said, a bit annoyed with them both trying to help you.

Even with you being five months along, you weren't helpless and they both clearly knew it. But it was like it had been a competition between the pair since your bump started showing, trying to dote on you at every moment they were around.

At first you had found the extra hand from Aemond sweet, reminding you of your brother in most ways. But at times you found it uncomfortable, finding yourself trying in the nicest way possible to push his hands away.

Then there was the problem with Aegon and his deep rooted jealousy. Each time Aemond even lingered a second for too long, Aegon's eyes burned with an intensity you had never seen before. An anger that you feared that if you let it brew for too long, he'd act out and not just against you. Because you could take that anger, in fact that was some perverted part in you that craved to see it but you didn't want it to be taken out on anyone else. Not someone that seemed to genuinely want to help you.

"You need to pack," you pointed to Aegon, placing a hand against his chest. "You can help me up the stairs along the way."

"Of course," Aegon secured a hand around your back, pulling you along with him. He wore a proud smirk on his face the whole way, a sense of pride filling him every time you picked him over Aemond.

"Stop smiling so much," you warned him with a playful tone unable to fight the smile from your face as you looked at him. "He's going to be the one looking after me when you're gone for a couple of days."

Aegon didn't like that, even with his hand gently pressing into your back, you could tell you might of crossed the line with that comment. His nose was flaring as he looked at you, jaw tensing as he kept his anger at bay. But there was that intensity again and you couldn't even deny how much it turned you on.

All amusement dropped from your face as you gulped, eyes dropping from his face to the floor.

When you reached the top of the stairs, Aegon's hands didn't drop. Instead he pulled you away from the direction of your room, taking you towards his.

"Aegon I didn't-" you stopped yourself, words catching in your throat when you caught his gaze again.

For once his eyes weren't watery, instead there was a coldness in them that you couldn't read as he dragged you into his room.

"Please talk to me," you pleaded voice soft, hoping to break through to him. You walked into the room, taking a seat on the end of the bed.

"You know I don't find it funny when you say things like that." His voice raises slightly, not enough to alert others but enough to stir something in you. "Do you think I want to be a whole flight away while you're here having to depend on people like my brother to help you?"

"I know you don't-"

"I've been so patient with you." His hands cup your face as he towers over you. "So very patient."

You couldn't even deny the slick that was building between your underwear, hormones going through the roof with his touch.

"You're mine." He pinched your chin, lifting your face up to look at him. His eyes were wet now, filled with a rage you knew so well. "I think you need reminding of that."

He lightly shoved you backwards and with ease you fell onto the bed, not even trying to get up afterwards.

"I think in the past few months you may have forgot but it's okay, I'm willing to show you."

"Aegon, you have to get ready for your flight."

You don't even know why the words left you, it's not like you were doing anything to fight against him. Instead you were completely docile as his hands ran along your thighs, allowing him to spread them with ease. You even lifted your hips as he yanked your panties down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him.

"Fuck," you mewled as you felt his breath hit your pussy, already desperate for his touch. It really had been too long, you needed him more than ever. "Please touch me."

"Tell me you're mine. Tell me and I'll do anything."

"I'm yours, Aegon. I've only ever been yours."

His mouth latched onto your soaked folds in an instance, making you buck your hips into his touch. You felt on fire with his touch, a wet moan escaping your lips from the intensity you were feeling. It was all so much and you had missed it more than anything.

"Fuck, please." You weren't sure what you were begging for, losing yourself in Aegon's touch in the moment and completely forgetting where you were.

"All mine," Aegon greedily murmured into your clit, licking at it like a starved man. You could feel his saliva dripping down your folds, mixing in with your juices that he was so hungrily eating up and all of it was sending you feral as you moaned for him.

His fingers gripped onto the skin of your hips, digging into it harshly as he kept you from moving. You didn't want to move, you didn't want to go anywhere as your hands grabbed the sheets around you.

"Just a pretty pussy," Aegon growled, detaching his lips from you.

You whined, trying to lift your hips to meet his face again but he declined. Instead his fingers found your folds, stroking them up and down as he made a mess of your cunt. He lifted himself, hovering over you as his fingers played with your cunt.

"I want to watch you as you cum," he smugly told you, pressing his forehead against yours. "I want to see imprint the memory into my head so I might save this moment for later."

His words were pushing you towards the edge, making you clench down on nothing as your body searched for that sweet release. You tried to lift your head up to catch his lips in a kiss but he retreated slightly, shaking his head.

"I want to watch you right now."

It was intimate the way he gazed down at you, taking in every sigh or quiver of your lips as if it was the most sexiest thing in the world. It had you wanting to please him even more, grinding yourself up into his hand to make you moan even louder. And he was eating up every second of it.

"Are you going to cum for me, baby?"

"Yes," you nodded eagerly, feeling your walls clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.

"How badly do you want to cum right now?"

"So badly, Aegon. Please, I really need to cum."

"You're such a mess for me right now."

That you were as your eyes rolled back, toes curling inwards and your thighs beginning to shake. Your hand grabbed onto him, nails digging in slightly to ground yourself.

"You can cum, baby. Let it go."

And you did, hips digging into the mattress as you climaxed on his fingers. Your pussy was fluttering and you were so fucked out over just his fingers that you couldn't even register the lewd noises you were making.

Aegon helped you ride it all out, fingers continuing to circle your clit all the way through it while you came down. Your thighs clamped around him once it was finally over, giving him the sign to pull away. His hand slowly slid from your thigh and he lifted it to his face, sucking the digits of his fingers that were covered in your juices. He hummed at the taste and the noise made your skin crawl in a delicious way, wanting more of him than before.

"I don't want you to go," you told him, eyes growing wet at the idea of not being with him for a few days. He had been around every day since you had been here, always close by if you needed him and the actual thought of not having him close was horrible. "I really don't want you to go."

He captured your lips in a feverish kiss, one that had you trying to pull him further in but he retreated once again. He was grinning when he looked down at you, content in the way he had got you.

"Aegon, Grandfather is here," Aemond's voice came through the door along with a loud knock.

"Fuck," Aegon hissed, happiness dropping from his face.

He lifted himself from you, quickly grabbing his suitcase and a few other things he needed to take with him.

You watched him as he moved, fixing your dress and blushing wildly at the thought of Aemond probably hearing you. It was embarrassing how you had so easily forgotten yourself but as you stated at Aegon, you could barely care about it, wanting to do it all over again just to keep him near.

When he stood in front of you again, his fingers pinched your chin to look at him. There was a seriousness to him, no anger as he spoke though as if he was just trying to make his point clear.

"I may have let you have you have your boundaries for however long you felt you needed them but at the end of the day you are mine. You are carrying my baby. Our baby. It's about time you and everyone else here starts to realise that."

He picked up his stuff before walking to the door, not taking a second to say goodbye before he walked out the door.

Aemond stood behind the door, being shoved out of the way by his older brother. And while you should of been embarrassed, even mortified at the scene that Aemond had just heard, you didn't find any bone in you willing to be.

Instead you were struck in silence, fingers hovering over your lips as you stared at the space where Aegon just was.

It was clear in the night that his words had stuck with you, finding yourself crawling into his bed to find comfort. Your fingers didn't play with your phone for long before you pressed his name on video call. And of course by the second ring he answered, a wide grin on his face as he accepted your call.

"You called?" He smiled smugly through the phone.

"I missed your voice," you admitted softly, snuggling your head further into his pillows. "Talk to me, tell me about your day. Anything, please."

"I missed you too," he confessed, playing with the mess of his white hair.

"I never said I missed you, I just said I missed your voice." You were teasing, scrunching your nose at him.

A moment passed as he watched you, staring in awe at the sight of you which made your stomach stir.

"I miss you so much," you told him in a huff, annoyed at the thought of being without him any longer. "How many days again?"

"Only two."

Tag List: Tag list: @leia-isabell @ophelialaufey @okfashionista @sydneyyyya @minami97 @winxschester @blccdofthedragoncn @horcruxion @fullmoonworshipper @elliotgrihaultgf @f4ll-for-you @starved-kitten @thebestrouge

anyone else wants to be tagged or if i missed someone let me know

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon x you #aegon ii fic

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weak4skz · 1 year

Text

Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Han and y/n have been friends since before they could remember. But what happens if their friendship is severed by an unfortunate situation and Han goes off to be an idol while y/n is in college. When they connect through a mutual friend, what happens then?

WARNINGS: insecurities, weight issues, body dysmorphia, bullying, toxic beauty standards, name-calling, self-harm (tell me if I should add anything else!)

A/N: first fic up. idk if I should make it into a series though. I hope you enjoy and I would love some feedback :)

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“Come on y/n” Han whined out from on the couch beside me. “We both graduated. I am not watching your dumb romcoms all night as ‘celebration’ let’s go and actually have fun.”

“First of all, they are not dumb Jisung” I started. Second of all, where would we even go to have fun? One of those dumb house parties?” I finished my response. We both sat on my living room couch, me in one of the t-shirts I stole from him some time last week. Han had been trying to convince me to go to one of his friend’s house parties for the past hour. Parties were never really my thing. I would much prefer to stay home and watch one of my ‘dumb romcoms’ instead. Han, on the other hand, was much more of an extrovert than me. My job was to pick him up from parties on the weekend when he had a little too much fun.

“We are most definitely going to a party. And we are gonna be the hottest people in the room and we’re gonna dance until we drop.” Han replied, already pulling me off the couch. “Now go put on something nice so we can go.” He had already somehow pushed me to my room and shut the door. Something nice. I thought to myself, silently walking over to my closet.

That leads to the second reason I don’t like going to parties. I am not exactly the right shape to wear something one defines as ‘something nice.’ Sure I wear a sundress here and there and even a fitting top every once in a while; I am not fit for the house party definition of something pretty. I am not pretty enough to wear the tight black dress that rests permanently in the back of my closet, I have too many curves for that. So, as always, I picked a pair of wide leg jeans and an oversized graphic tee. Not because they’re comfortable, not because I don’t want to wear dresses. I simply wear them to hide the things I don't want others to see, things I don’t want myself to see. I hide thick thighs behind the dark blue denim and rolls of all shapes and sizes under the black t-shirt. Not because I love the clothes, I don’t even enjoy wearing jeans. Simply, because they shield me from the truth: I am not pretty. Not pretty enough for Han, not pretty enough for my parents, not pretty enough for society, hell I’m not even pretty to myself. Well shit, now I’m crying. Great fucking job y/n. I silently wipe the tears, at this point it’s part of my everyday routine. I walk over to my vanity and reapply my mascara, wiping off the bits that are now falling down my cheeks.

“ARE YOU ALMOST DONE” Han shouted from outside my door, bringing me out of my own little world. “Yea, almost” I replied, trying to hide the fact I was just crying. I finished touching up my makeup, and walked towards my bedroom door.

I took an extremely long time getting to the door; dreading Han’s reaction to my outfit for the party.

“Let’s go,” I walked past him and towards the door, not looking at his reaction. I pick up the keys, silently signaling to Jisung I’m driving and walk out the door towards the car.

______________________________________________________________

After the longest fifteen minutes of my life, we arrived at the party. I immediately feel uncomfortable as I get out of the car. The flashing lights and loud music I can hear coming from inside informs me of the headache that’s about to arrive.

Han pushes me inside and all I see is people. There are probably 100 dancing teenagers shoved inside this two story house. Han immediately leaves me to my own devices after spotting someone he knows. I think I heard him say ‘he’ll be right back’ but i couldn’t really tell over the music. So, as the introvert I am, I look around the room for a corner to hang out in until I go home. I make my way over to the first empty corner I see and pull out my phone so I don’t look like a loner.

I have been sitting in this corner for about twenty minutes until I feel someone approaching me. I internally cringe because they reek of alcohol and sweat. I look up when the said person taps my shoulder.

“Hey baby. Are you here alone? I could keep you company” he slurs out, clearly drunk.

Ew “No thank you” I say trying my best to muster a polite smile.

“Come on baby, I know you want some company. Just come wi—”

I didn’t even let him finish before I slapped his hands off of me and pushed him away.

“I said no, so back the fuck off and go away.” I said through gritted teeth. I swear this was the last thing I needed tonight.

“ Listen here you little bitch. I was just trying to help you out but here you are acting all high and mighty. Well guess what, you are not even half of any person in this room. You're not hiding anything by wearing baggy clothes, you fat bitch.” The guy, whose name I don’t even know, started yelling out of nowhere.

Great. And I thought my night couldn’t get worse

Before I could make my emotional response; I reminded myself that this was bound to happen at some point. I remind myself that some people hate me like I hate myself. So I numb myself, blocking out the outside world. Reminding myself that I say the same things about me everyday.

I brushed past the drunk guy and the crowd of people that decided to watch to look for Jisung so I could ask him to leave. I scan the room and my eyes land on him. He was already looking at me with sympathy? Or worry?

Shit he knows.

My best friend, and crush, just saw me get utterly humiliated by having my biggest insecurity revealed to more than half of our graduating class. And even better, he didn’t do anything. Well, I couldn’t really blame him. He was standing next to some girl, a really pretty girl. She was cute: on the shorter side and she was really skinny. She had perfectly clear, pale skin and big doe eyes. She was everything I’m not; and at the same time, she was everything I wanted to be. Judging by the rumpled clothes, smeared lipstick, and puffy lips; I could only guess what they were doing.

Trying to escape the limelight suddenly sprouted on me; I give Han a quick thumbs up to signal I’m okay and wave my keys signaling I’m leaving before walking towards the door.

I turn back, hoping to see Han behind me, but instead; I see him tonguing the pretty girl’s throat.

Hope is for suckers, I remind myself. I remind myself that a guy like him could never like someone like me. That he just sees me as a friend, or even a sister.

With that, I leave; dragging my heavy thoughts with me.

#feeling insecure #insecure #insecure reader #han jisung #han x reader #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x reader #angst #fluff #stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz imagines #han jisung imagines

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simshousewindsor · 1 month

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CORONATION PART 5: THE FINALE

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: And so, as her father and his father before him did, Her Majesty now moves in her procession down the length of this abbey, in her beautiful gown with its long purple train. And she wears, as we see her now, the Imperial State Crown. In her hands, the scepter and the rod. The signs, that in her hands, justice and mercy are never to be separated.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Exiting the abbey for the first time, The Queen and Prince consort greet the awaiting photographers and sims.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: History has been written and sung here today, in this warm and beautiful old building, where it has been written and sung for many hundred of years.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Yes, but never before have we witnessed the crowning of the sovereign, or so many shared in her dedication, in this abbey church!

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Her Majesty will hand the orb and scepter to a waiting footman before returning entering the 136-year-old Gold State coach.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: The ride back to the palace should be far more comfortable for Her Majesty than the journey here.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: I can't believe they fit her large train inside.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Queen Katherine I and Prince Rainier are formally crowned and will now depart the abbey.

(crowd cheering)

Shon Gableton [SNN]: The crowd is going wild, Cameron! Her Majesty is very beloved by her sims.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Indeed.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: We have thoroughly enjoyed watching the coronation of Queen Katherine I! We will be following Her Majesty's procession back to the palace where the entire royal family is expected to appear on the balcony. In the meantime, wow!

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Wow is right, Cameron! Can we talk about Prince Rainier! The first prince consort crowned, and he didn't kneel!

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: That was the biggest shock. I guess the monarchy is trying to appeal to the younger generation and eliminate many of those unsavory traditions.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Crowds have lined Parliament Square Street as Her Majesty's procession passes.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: You can even see a glimpse of the Duke and Duchess of Kent!

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: The procession is moving at a walking pace with four Windsor Greys pulling the Queens coach.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Are those royal guards following the state coach?

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: They are the Queens Guards. I believe a total of twenty-four are amongst today's procession guarding Her Majesty.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Such splendor!

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Oh! The Duke and Duchess of Kent!

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Their Royal Highnesses are first behind the Queen.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: The Duke removed his hat!

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: The procession is rounding Memorial Arch and will soon be at The Mall.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Yes. Her Majesty is almost home. As the procession enters The Mall, we get a glimpse of the Grenadier Guards who have just joined the final leg of the procession.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Upon returning to Buckingsim Palace, Their Majesties will receive a Royal Salute from the United Kingdom and Commonwealth Armed Forces who have been on parade all day. The Royal Salute will be followed by three cheers from the assembled service personnel, as a tribute from the Armed Forces on parade to The Queen and The Prince Consort on the day of Their Majesties’ Coronation.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Just behind the Duke and Duchess of Kent are the Earl and Countess of Boykins.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: The Duke appears to have put his hat back on. The wind must have calmed down more!

Shon Gableton [SNN]: I just love his hat!

Shon Gableton [SNN]: The Earl and Countess appear to have had a lovely coronation. Boykins House will be issuing an announcement in the coming days. Royal insiders speculate Their Royal Highnesses are announcing a tour.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: So much to look forward to this year, Shon!

Shon Gableton [SNN]: As Queen Katherine enters the gates of Buckingsim Palace, we now look forward to the start of a glorious reign.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: We do, indeed! Other members of the royal family arrived by car and will be making an appearance on the balcony with Her Majesty shortly. It's been a magnificent Coronation Day!

Shon Gableton [SNN]: It has, Cameron! I can't believe it's over.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Almost over! For me, the cherry on top of the cake is going to be the balcony wave! Coronation Day won't feel complete until Her Majesty greets her subjects from the palace!

Shon Gableton [SNN]: We'll be right back, after this commercial break, for the final moments of The Coronation of Queen Katherine I.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: The Windenburg Royal Family appear on the balcony, with Her Majesty Queen Katherine I, as chants of "Hoorah, Hoorah!", "Long Live The Queen!" and choruses of 🎶God Save the Queen🎶 ring on.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: From us here at SNN, thank you for watching the Coronation of Queen Katherine I!

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Long Live Queen Katherine I!

Previous | Beginning | Next - continue Heir Ascent (story)

Previous | Beginning | Next - continue Consort Redemption (story)

Previous | Beginning | Next - continue Second Place Countess (story)

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delopsia · 1 year

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Not Rhett | Rhett x Bob x Reader

Word Count: 4,100 Cross Posted On AO3 Warnings & Notes: Brief mentions of food and alcohol, a nifty case of mistaken identity, and just a general elaboration of how the reader met Rhett and Bob. It's also a warmup that got out of hand. This is written to function as a stand-alone fic and as a prologue to Rhett_16 is typing... In other words, you don't need to read one to read the other!

The fliers weren't kidding.

This is the biggest Autumn Festival you've ever seen.

A circus of sales booths and food trucks stretches for as far as the eye can see, curling to wrap around the rodeo grounds and beyond. Reaching right up to the border of the pumpkin patch, visible from the hay rides that cart visitors in and out of the tightly packed parking lots. Pumpkins, gourds, hay bales, corn, scarecrows, everywhere you look, you find them. You think you've seen two dozen booths dedicated to mums, and you haven't even been through half of this place.

Just like you haven't seen your friends ever since you split up. They wanted to stand in that long, winding apple cider line, and you really, truly, cannot handle waiting in an hour-long line for something that will take five minutes to drink.

The world tilts sideways. Ground rising to smack you in the ass.

"Shit, I'm sorry!"

You don't recall closing your eyes, but as you pry them open, you almost wish you hadn't. Dear Lord, why is there a cowboy crouched in front of you?

It's not until you notice your things scattered about the ground that you realize what's happened. The contents of your shopping bags are strewn about the dirt path, wallet lying neglected by your feet. This strange man is scooping them up as quickly as he can, but some people have no issue stepping on them as they walk past.

"I—uh..." his head drops to look at the ground, but just as quickly, snaps back up, allowing you a chance to catch sight of the deep blue eyes hidden away by that cowboy hat, "c'n I get you an apology drink?"

You've never heard of an apology drink before, but something about the slight twang to his words has you muttering a soft yes. Even accepting his big, calloused hand to help you get up, despite the voice in the back of your head that warns against it.

Two o'clock on a Monday afternoon is way too early to be following some strange cowboy to a tent bar for a drink, but here you are. Sitting on the far end of a fold-out plastic table, sipping on your drink of choice while this new acquaintance of yours settles down across from you. His legs are a bit too long to comfortably fit, knocking his knee against the cheap, white plastic and wincing as the entire table trembles.

"I don't think I ever caught your name," you find yourself saying once you're sure the table isn't on the verge of collapse.

"'m Rhett."

To no surprise at all, Rhett's one of the many bull riders on the lineup for tonight's rodeo. The flier you were handed when you first got here even has his name on the long, winding list of tonight's riders. As he explains it, the rodeo is for charity. Aside from a nifty belt buckle, you get nothing out of entering, but it's an amazing opportunity if you want to get your name out there.

"I guess I'll be cheering you on from the stands tonight," you'll leave out the part that you weren't originally planning to stay for it at all, but he's made this event sound like so much fun that now you have to give it a shot.

The last thing you expect is for him to smile like a little kid on Christmas morning, eyes sparkling brighter than the smile that emerges from his once stoic face, "yeah?"

"Yeah," Your fingers drum against the material of your wallet, tiny sounds drowned out by the mayhem that is this oversized festival, "so long as your girlfriend isn't upset by it."

"Well, I ain't had one of those in a long time," hard to believe, considering he walks around looking like that on a daily basis, "so I reckon you should be safe on that front."

And just as the conversation starts getting good, you're interrupted by a man who introduces himself as Rhett's older brother. You don't hear his name; all you know is that he's got the worst timing of all time. You'd been so, so invested in Rhett's whirlwind of a story about how he got a DUI because he absolutely had to prove that he could start his truck with a screwdriver. He was mere seconds away from his grand reveal of how he got caught in that abandoned parking lot in the first place.

"Perry, give me like two more minutes, alright?" But Rhett's plea falls on deaf ears because that sad husk of a man isn't budging on his stance.

Perry's not much of a man. Looks like he hasn't slept in weeks, and his arms seem to be permanently folded in front of his chest. "If you don't get over there early, you won't make it in at all, and this whole trip will be for nothing."

He must be a lot of fun to be around.

Regardless, you suppose you should be heading out, too; your friends should have made it out of that line by now. "I suppose I'll see you at the rodeo, cowboy."

The corners of Rhett's eyes crinkle as he smiles, "I'll be lookin' for ya."

Do you remain seated just long enough to admire those broad shoulders straining against the thin material of his flannel?

Yes.

Yes, you do.

That line is still a quarter-mile long, but you don't need more than a second glance to know that your friends are no longer in it. Long gone from the entire area, too, because even as you twist and turn, you can't find hide or hair of them. They're not in any of the places you expected them to be, not the food trucks or the barn stocked full of old ladies and their craft booths.

You're passing the corn maze when your ears catch the whisper of a meek "excuse me" as feet skitter across the dirt path. It may have been a fifteen-minute meeting at most, but you already recognize that voice.

"Rhett?"

...without his cowboy hat.

And his hair is a hell of a lot shorter than it was a little bit ago. But that face is the same, and yet...

It's not?

"I'm—I'm sorry, I'm not Rhett," there isn't a damn way this man isn't Rhett. He looks and sounds the exact fucking same, only Rhett certainly didn't have a pair of wire frames perched on his nose. The guy looks down at his hands and holds one out to you, "You left this on the bench."

Your wallet.

"Oh." God, were you really that distracted by Rhett's backside that you forgot to grab your wallet? As you take it from this, Not Rhett guy, it seems to be in perfect shape, only a little warm from how long he's been holding it. "Thank you?"

His hand rises to scratch the side of his neck, "you're welcome." But his eyes had might as well be on the ground because they don't lift to look at you.

"Are you sure you're not Rhett?" Your mouth is moving on its own; this absolutely has to be the same guy. "Because I swear I just...spoke to you a few minutes ago."

Not Rhett shifts his weight, those eyes finally darting up. Blue as ice, but nowhere near as bold and free as Rhett's were. "I've never met a Rhett in my life if I'm being real honest with ya."

A voice carries across the festival grounds, familiar, carrying with it the familiar ring of your name. As you look over your shoulder, you find your friends scurrying toward you with their shopping bags and towering cups of steaming apple cider.

When you look back, Not Rhett is walking away, disappearing into a group of people that you don't recognize.

"You look like you've just escaped death itself," one of your friends says once she's within earshot, "what happened?"

"I think I've just met some creep who's pretending to be two different guys."

Through the rest of the evening and early into the night, your eyes are peeled. Every corner you come around, every cowboy hat you catch a glimpse of, you expect to see him. Whoever he is. A man who's changed his appearance just to return your wallet to you and pretends not to know a Rhett at all.

A part of you wants to go back to the hotel early, like you'd planned, but a wayward what-if has you climbing up into the stadium and settling down next to your friends. Because if Rhett was telling the truth about being a bull-rider, then he'll have to make an appearance here.

At least, you hope he was telling the truth.

Bronc riders are up first; there's a dizzyingly small amount of riders, too, especially when compared to the long list of bull riders. If their names were written individually on a scroll, then it would have rolled all the way across the stadium by now. Out of all of those names, there are maybe twenty different Rhetts, and those are just the ones you managed to count.

There's an uproar from the crowd that has you lifting your head, training your attention back on the rider clinging to the back of a horse who never has more than two feet on the ground at a time. A familiar face bounces across the big screen.

So Not Rhett does have a name.

"Robert Floyd," the name feels strange on your tongue, but that is absolutely the same guy who found and returned your wallet.

He places fifth out of twenty-six total riders. Not too shabby, all things considered. But your question from before still stands strong; is Rhett real, or is he just this Bob guy?

The first two Rhetts aren't him. One's bald, the other has shoulder-length blond hair so thick that you can't even see his face.

You've got your nose back down in the handout flier, recounting all the Rhetts appearing on the list, when a sharp elbow finds your side. A buzzer goes off so loud that it washes over the booming voice of the announcer.

But you don't need to hear what he's saying.

Because that's him. Curls resting at the nape of his neck, bouncing with every motion of the raging bull beneath him; you've only barely gotten a glimpse of him before his eight seconds are up, but you need nothing more. As he picks himself up off the ground, he turns to face the roaring stadium, head swiveling as he searches for something.

If it weren't for the big-screen broadcasting it in high definition, you almost wouldn't believe that he smiled the moment he spotted you.

And now the only problem you have; is the regret of not being able to find them when the rodeo is over. In such an oversized swarm of people, it's hard to even stay close to your friends; never mind, find a man who doesn't know you're looking for him in the first place.

"Maybe you'll see him at the bar," one of your friends suggests on your way out to the car park; you can hardly recall there ever being a plan to go to a bar after this, but you find yourself humming in agreement anyway.

What's the worst thing that can happen? You meet a third man who looks the exact fucking same?

The bar your friends are dead-set on visiting...isn't much. Easily mistakable for an abandoned building, it's nothing more than four walls, a tin roof, and a cheap roadside sign with sideways lettering. If it weren't for the swarm of vehicles in the parking lot, you would have thought this place was a trap. But it's real, with music so loud that you can hear it as you walk across the gravel parking lot.

Inside, you find yourself bathed in a vivid red light, so vivid and overpowering that it and the golden lighting behind the counter are the only colors you can see. Your friends practically vanish the moment you look away from them, stopping short to take in your crowded surroundings. By the time you lay eyes on them again, they're already on the other side of the room, getting drinks.

Goodie, another crowd to work your way through.

You've just about had it with dodging between people and squeezing into gaps when they can't be fucked to take the two steps to let you past. Or, worse, the good-for-nothings who think you're looking for a conversation and will absolutely stop to have a chat if they give you a compliment or two.

"Damn," you're praying that isn't directed at you, but as you pass this guy with the non-existent eyebrows, he turns to keep facing you; you're the sun, and he's a planet caught in orbit, "I mean, damn."

Just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep—

Your feet tread backward as he inserts himself between you and your path; a nauseating musk follows him like a scorned ex, makes your nose wrinkle the second you pick up on it.

"Aww, c'mon, I'm paying you a compliment!" The collar of his shirt tightens around his neck as he's yanked backward so hard that his feet come out from under him. Falling into a not-so-sober heap on the polished concrete floor.

Maybe you'd hear what else he has to say if it weren't for a familiar face catching your eye. All muscle and long, dark curls that rest against the nape of his neck; if it weren't for the lights, you're sure you'd be drowning in the deep blue of his eyes by now.

"You have impeccable timing, cowboy," at your words, Rhett's scowl lightens into a smile.

"Saw you walk in," his voice is just deep enough to be audible over the thumping music, and you're drawn to it like a bear to honey. "I'm surprised you showed up at this hole in the wall, of all places."

"Someone recommended it to my friends," you say, stepping past the mess of a man on the floor. "It's hard talking them out of something once they've made up their minds."

You don't know if it's reputation or his size, but the crowd parts like the Red Sea for Rhett; those broad shoulders don't bump into a damn thing as you follow him like a shadow. "Whoever told them that was a fuckin' moron."

"This place can't be that bad," as you step out of the crowd and into the empty space next to the bar counter, the noise level drops. So significant that your own voice feels too loud now.

Rhett's got a seat on the very end of the counter, kept occupied by a lone cowboy hat and a jacket so heavy that it looks like it could make winter feel like summer. It's still warm out, but just seeing it makes you wonder how cold it will get once the moon is high in the sky.

"Take a look around," Rhett lifts his hand, gesturing toward the general area around you, "'s a reason why most people here look fresh out the sewer."

And take a look around, you will, because this place didn't look that bad when you first walked in. Sure, the guy on your left could use a bath, and the gaggle of girls squeezing out from the crowd reek of 2000s fashion trends. Now that you think about it, those bouncers at the door did look a little more menacing than usual...

The guy passing on your left comes to a hard stop. So sudden that his shoes squeal against the floor. Eyes wide, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

"What the fuck," Rhett's words are the only confirmation you have that what you're seeing is real. Not a lone delusion you're having.

Robert Floyd's gaze flickers over to you, then back to Rhett. "I see why you asked if I was Rhett, now."

Behind you, Rhett orders a double shot of tequila.

The bar is far too loud for you to hear each other talk; Robert—sorry, Bob speaks far too softly to be heard over the music, and Rhett's voice carries so well that the Myspace girls start eavesdropping. It's cooling off outside, but the back of Rhett's truck is the perfect spot to continue your conversation.

Out here, it's easier to tell the difference between them. Bob's a few shades paler and doesn't share the same scars that mottle Rhett's skin. Though they're both brunettes, but Rhett's darker locks make Bob look closer to blonde.

"D'you at least ride horses on a farm?" Rhett presses, sipping his beer.

But Bob just shakes his head, "We mostly use heavy machinery nowadays." Which may explain how he wound up one of the top Weapons Systems Officers in the Navy; if you grow up using farming equipment all your life, a plane can't be that big of a jump once you learn the controls, right?

They're so strikingly similar, only varying in the fine details. Both come from families with generational land; one was a home birth on an isolated cattle ranch, and the other was born in a hospital and brought home to a well-known family farm. Rhett's a bull rider, Bob had bronc-riding as his backup plan, just in case the Navy didn't work out.

Both wanted to fly the coop the moment they turned eighteen; Bob was handed that opportunity to escape on a silver platter; Rhett was roped up and tied down before he could spread his wings. Bob has had vision problems all his life; Rhett's got perfect clarity. They're so easily mistakable for each other, and yet, so, so different.

And when you talk about the places you call home and your backstory, their attention is downright glued to you. Bob finds all the tiny details that somehow align with their stories, and Rhett's so fixated that he's got a million and one questions.

"I'm sorry, but who the fuck, goes to Mcdonald's and orders four sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits?" Rhett's attempt at coming off as annoyed dissolves into a fit of giggles as Bob tries to elbow him, barely able to squirm away from the attempted assault.

"Big words coming from the guy who just admitted to driving forty-five minutes for a singular bacon egg and cheese biscuit," the only thing stopping Bob from going after him is the lack of a lid on his water bottle. "You didn't even get a hashbrown with it!"

"I forgot they had those, alright?"

Much to your dismay, your friends head out at the same time as Bob's do, and Perry has been blowing up Rhett's cell for over an hour now. If it weren't for Bob's suggestion to exchange numbers, you're sure that you would have lost all contact with them after that night.

But now you've found yourself staying up long past your usual bedtime, giggling at rambunctious text messages and bickering over static-filled phone calls. Rhett can't type to save his life and hardly tries to correct himself, leaving you and Bob to try and decipher what the hell he meant to say. But Bob can't complain because he's got a horrible habit of pocket-dialing the two of you.

'Bob, can you ducking learn to lock your home when you put it in your picket?'

'I will, as soon as you learn to spell.'

'Duck you'

In the first month of knowing each other, they take multiple DNA tests. Sending off each one with the expectation that they share a common ancestor, something to explain their uncanny similarities. Every single one comes back with the same answer; they're not related.

With Rhett's long hours at the ranch and the demand of Bob's Navy career, it's difficult to meet in person. Plans always seem to be falling through, whether it be an emergency requiring Bob to be shipped halfway across the country or a small tornado uplifting the fences keeping the cattle in. Something is always in the way.

There's a spontaneous Friday where you all up and decide to meet because your weekends have opened up, end up spending two nights in a city you don't know the name of. Your next two attempts to meet don't pan out so well, leaving you to rely on Bob's next greatest idea.

"There, you two are," Bob all but beams at the sight of you, cozied up in your bed with your laptop resting on the opposite pillow. Rhett's saying something, too; you can see his mouth moving, but not a sound carries over. You don't realize what the problem is until Bob audibly sighs, "Rhett, your microphone is muted again."

Rhett's mouth moves, and even though you can't hear it, you already know that he's quietly muttered a soft 'what the fuck,' as he reaches for the laptop touchpad. "Whoops."

How long you stay up, all depends on scheduling and luck.

Some nights, you're up until the birds begin to chirp; others, you're only there for fifteen minutes before Rhett's internet connection drops or Bob's interrupted by an important phone call. There are a lot of days where you have to be the first to leave because you've got things to do in the morning.

But sometimes, just sometimes, you find yourself here.

Curled up in bed, laptop propped up next to you, fighting the drowsiness that's long since settled in your eyes. Sleep sings your name in the sweetest melody, her arms open, welcoming you to step into sweet, sweet unconsciousness, but you can't take that final step. Too fixated on the blurry screen to hear her siren song.

Bob rests on the upper half of your screen; those glasses have long since come off, his pale face smushed into the pillow. Every time you think he's finally fallen asleep, those soft blues flutter open as if he's waiting for you and Rhett to doze off first. They haven't said anything about it, but you're pretty sure he and Rhett have a bet on who's going to be the first to give in.

Your night owl of a cowboy isn't doing much better, staring up at you with that half-lidded gaze from the bottom portion of the screen. The only thing keeping him awake is the hand he's got propped beneath his head, but he's starting to slip too. Even now, you can tell, all from the way his free arm is slowly pulling that spare pillow closer and closer to his chest.

"Your neck is gonna be sore again if you keep your head propped up like that."

The corner of Rhett's lip lifts, "shut it, Flyboy." But he's already pulling his hand out from beneath his head, properly settling down into his messy bed.

"That wasn't me," Bob's words are stretched around a yawn, barely decipherable.

Much to your dismay, you're the first to drift off.

Making video chats a regular event may have been a mistake because you start catching yourself staying up even later. Clinging to every second you get with them because they're such busy men that you don't get to have these calls as often as you'd like.

Men who certainly don't make your heart skip a beat when they light your phone up with good morning text messages. Always up before you, always bickering with each other and sharing what they're up to, growing excited the moment your good morning text comes through. Two men who look at you like you're their entire world.

But you can only have one.

And maybe that's how you found yourself here. Staring up at the ceiling as time seems to leave you behind completely. Memories flicker through your head like a picture book, comparing and contrasting, searching for something. Anything to find fault in one of them, to sway your decision. There's no point; you're split down the middle, can't force yourself to love one more than the other.

The world around you has long since fallen asleep, leaving you with no escape from your own thoughts. Trapped in an invisible prison, not a distraction around to help you avoid it. You hate these nights.

Because it’s on quiet nights like these, when the world around you has gone eerily quiet, and your phone is devoid of any new notifications, that you truly feel the effects of your heart becoming tangled up in a never-ending game of tug of war.

Optional continuation: Rhett_16 is typing...

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zappedbyzabka · 4 months

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i don’t know why but that last picture you posted makes me think of ex!pageant johnny who did beauty pageants when he was a kid/teenager (maybe because of his mom? or because of sid?) and now is super disillusioned with them and kind of doesn’t want to talk about them UNTIL he has to because (maybe) sam? gets into the idea of winning the valley pageant (probably to maybe make a statement about it and johnny kind of is into that idea too) and he starts training her for it and anyway this is my long way of saying i think daniel should witness johnny doing pageant training and lose his mind

- landslided

So, I don’t know if any of you have seen Insatiable but that is what popped up in my mind

It’s about a girl (Debby Ryan) who used to be a big girl and lost weight after surgery (I think) and becomes “hot”. Her lawyer was an ex pageant coach who shows her how to do everything.

(Spoiler) he was lifelong rivals with this one dude for in the show before it was revealed the rival had secretly been in love with him the whole time and they make out in a bathroom BUT I do not care for an AU of this because I much prefer Johnny being an ex pageant queen beauty who helps his non-blood daughter and they bond (instead of everything Patty does to her coach YIKES.)

Johnny shows her everything he can remember—including the tips he got from the beauty queens around him despite not having the opportunity to use most of said tips.

Dark lipstick makes your teeth look whiter. Double sided tape and safety pins are your best friend. Don’t forget your rollers. The higher the heel the longer the leg but the harder it is to have the perfect walk.

One foot in front of the other, good posture, delicate hands, big smile for the judges.

It’s all a performance that you have to be great at or you have no chance at winning.

He usually wore suits as what was expected of him, sometimes themed outfits depending. He would have liked to get to wear all the pretty dresses the girls wore to see if he’d win that competition too. He is, after all, extremely competitive.

He put on some high heels to be silly once when he was cozying up to the judges before the pageant began and got told it was a shame he wasn’t a girl because otherwise he would have been snatched up by a big agency with those perfect visuals.

It pissed him off that he couldn’t do everything.

The creeps that ran the pageants and the annoyance of guys at school teasing him for his forced girly hobby had him bitter and over all of it. The sashes and dainty trophies fit beautifully next to his All-Valley trophy, but had to go. (he couldn’t bring himself to throw them away. It’d be like throwing away his accomplishments. They’re somewhere buried in a box.)

But when Sam brought it up, Johnny jumped to offer his help—cutting off Daniel’s pondering over where they’d find a coach.

Sure, Johnny had to explain to about 4 adults and 12 or so kids that he was in beauty pageants but it only dampened his excitement a little.

Daniel was…really interested in watching him demonstrate for Sam. Really interested—enamored.

He can’t believe Johnny knows nothing about makeup! No wonder his hair was always styled.

Poor Sam had to learn to strut in a room filled with tension between her dad and coach so thick you could cook it in the microwave

Johnny was all “Impress Daniel. Impress Daniel. Impress Daniel” in his mind and Sam rolled her eyes so many times they hurt.

Watching Sam thrive and use her beauty to her advantage was a gift for Johnny. He knows she’s had trouble with people not taking her seriously for it and it genuinely made his heart ache with understanding -he’s also had issues his looks. ‘Pretty boy’ always seemed to be a way of pushing him down.

They don’t let her karate skills go to waste. There are so many things she could do as a talent that it was hard to pick, but they settled for the ice chopping that she knew would make her father happy as a surprise. (idk if they would actually allow that, but that would never stop Johnny or her lol.)

cough cough catch Daniel smitten with the man that helped his daughter and kissing him in the dressing rooms after she wins. Anyone that makes his little girl that proud of herself is a goodie in his book. And MAYBE Johnny had been feeding Sam advice on how to get the angry blond girl so very similar to him and Sam’s ALSO kissed silly in a dressing room until Tory’s face is stained with all her makeup.

#Sorry for the late reply I have a lot of excuses #I am so sorry #i know nothing about pageants #I’m playing #tw weighloss #johnny lawrence #sam larusso

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mega-ringsandthings-world · 5 months

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I know we’ve talked about this via messages, but I wanted to ask again about health issues (mental aside) they’ll have to deal with from being tortured for two and a half years straight.

Not just that, but also the scars they accumulate—do those cause issues? Is part of their bedtime routine putting on scar cream so the skin can move less stiffly through out that day? Is it a ritual every night that they try to perform without fail? Does Mihawk let Shanks get his back? Does Shanks let Mihawk treat his Haki burns?

Are some of their joints messed up from being dislocated so many times? Do they hate cold weather and winter islands most of all? Can they feel an oncoming storm or the weather patterns just from the aches in old broken bones?

Are some days so bad for Mihawk's hands, which are scarred and broken to hell and back, that his fingers just shake all day? Does Shanks get crippling migraines from all the times he was punched in the head?

Do they take medication? For the pain or for their mental illnesses? Now I’m just imagining them dragging themselves miserably to Drum Island for a checkup to make sure nothing’s going to kill them physically or have long-term effects from their captivity, and Dr. Kureha just taking one look at these two miserable kids absolutely riddled with PTSD and going, "Okay, whack that shit out," and prescribing them Lexapro.

Not to mention the stress probably rewired their brains, and the brain damage from getting beaten around so many times. What about their immune systems? High stress and lack of proper nutrition can mess that up forever. Oh, and weight gain is going to be different as well as bone density and muscle loss. They are going to be a mess.

There's also the grief that comes with the loss of bodily autonomy in this way. They had a bright future and young, healthy bodies that have been traumatized. Now, not only will they live with the mental scarring but also the physical scarring that will affect them in fights, breathing, or just being for the rest of their lives. Think of Mihawk just staring at himself in the mirror, grieving the health he had before, how he's scared he’ll never be the world's greatest swordsman, that they taken that away from him like so much else. Think of Shanks crying over the thought he might not get to explore the world because of his migraines.

But at least they have each other! Hopefully, they also learn to lean on each other when shit gets bad and take up accommodations for their issue. I don't know; Mihawk is headstrong but more about efficiency, and if wearing a brace or taking a certain med means he'd be at his peak, then I can see this Mihawk swallowing his pride and doing it. Shanks, on the other hand... I don't know, maybe?

Ooh, more logistics. Bodily logistics, that it. The severest issues come from the initial healing process, like the scar on Mihawk's leg which keeps him bedridden for months. When they heal, it falls to the people who are treating them to maintain continuing treatment for the scars that are left, because they won't be in a fit state to do that at first. But yeah, they get into a routine of care for themselves as they get better mentally, Mihawk especially. And while he wouldn't let Shanks near the scars on his back for quite a while, he'd insist on treating Shanks. The Haki burns are going to be something he's guilty about, naturally. Hm, Shanks' left arm was fractured at the elbow and the burns on Mihawk's knuckles would have damaged the tendons there, and they both have dislocated a shoulder/wrist/rib/knee numerous times. Cold weather/pressure drops/high humidity all exacerbate injuries, so yeah, they'd avoid all of those if it could be helped. Shanks spends a lot of time slumming on beaches for that very reason. Mihawk would probably like cold better than he does heat, so his preferred basking spot is Kuraigana, which was picked for its atmosphere. Yes to them sensing storms. Shanks in particular actually finds that useful. So, dislocated wrists, damage to the nerves/tendons from the burns on Mihawk's knuckles would cause tremors even if his hands were never broken outright, and those mixed with stress/anxiety/sleep depravation can get nasty. Shanks develops migraines due to the head trauma, that come in varying levels of severity. Suffice to say, there's days when neither of them are in any state to do any daily tasks, or much of anything. (they still push themselves to, though) Pain meds, mostly, Mihawk self-medicates on Haki, Shanks alcohol. Sedatives in the early days, when they need to be calmed down. They do get taken to Drum Island at some point, and they'll get a cocktail that takes them off the edge. More on that later. (Kureha would have stock of Lexapro somewhere lol) Speaking of which, they might need short-term anxiety medication and help mitigating (they won't go away) the stress responses they've developed. They amount of head trauma would probably mean permanent damage in real life, but memory issues here, probably. They're kept marginally well-fed, seeing as how they need to be kept alive, and they get enough that their growth isn't stunted to the extreme, but it's not the nutrition that's up to par for two-young men. They'll grow up leaner, having to work to put on muscle definition. Their on and off EDs don't help, and neither does getting sick more frequently until their immune systems regain full health. It looks hopeless to them at the very start of their recovery. Looking into the mirror at every flaw and bleeding wound, feeling utterly weak in every cell, it'll be hard for them to imagine returning to even a shadow of their former selves, let alone advancing past that. Which brings it's own mental issues, of course. And the horror of having to be so weak in front of each other. Which makes them reluctant to have a hand on each other's recovery, at least up until the need to be with each other takes over. After a while Mihawk treats the accommodations he needs as just another thing he needs to do to stay on top, like exercising, doing sword drills, sparring. In canon Mihawk obviously takes care of himself and it's the same here (mostly). He adds it (braces, pain meds, exercises) into his meticulous routine and that's that. Shanks, on the other hand, tends to lean more towards curing the issue than preventing the issue, he'll wait until something can't be ignored to do something about it, out of his own pride. And then it's fuck it we ball and washing down pain meds with liquor, which always gets Mihawk pissed at him.

#one piece #op #opla #dracule mihawk #akagami no shanks #hawkeye mihawk #red haired shanks #mihawk one piece #shanks one piece #mishanks #mihawk x shanks #op marines #loguetown au

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levmada · 1 year

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you’ve done a levi feet analysis, but what about a dick and balls analysis? 🤔

//breeding mention

i technically did one before on my not sfw alphabet like a year ago. surprisingly my established (and preconceived since Isayama never explained canon information on this subject: a travesty) opinions about Levi Ackerman's dick and balls hasn't changed much LMAO

okay so he has the fattest cock... getting it all in your mouth means your cheeks bulging. it's so heavy on your tongue. Levi likes to cradle both sides of your face so softly while guiding your head up and down. he just loves to feel you taking it. don't even bring up how nice the stretch feels as he sinks inside you. it looks so pretty with a ring snugly fit on the base.

all that said small dick Levi supremacy. he lacks length. i cannot picture someone Levi's size having a monster cock ok there's a balance (and long dicks don't feel that good anyway fight me). whenever you get him in your fist it takes up over half of it. so easy to scoop it up in your hand. cute <3

either way he knows what to do with it.

oh yeah as for what his cock actually looks like :0 mm he's circumcised. and as I said, fat cock but shorter than average. with a pretty pink tip that matches his hottest blush. a couple veins that are prominent along the underside and side. no arc... slaps straight up against his navel when he's hard...

he's a grower not a shower... (so easy to turn him on tho bc he's so sensitive<3). you have no idea what you're in for until the bulge is making his pants unbearably tight n he's desperate... the tip beet-red n his hips grinding into any attention you give his pretty dick.

n on this topic he leaks so much. it's genuinely an issue for him when you decide to tease him without stripping him first. a wet spot always ends up on the front of his briefs and so many end up taking up space in the laundry after a little while. he can't help it :( it spills across your tongue when you give him your mouth. so much wells up in his slit and bleeds down his shaft so he's plenty soaked when you finally get your hands on him. he's jus so sensitive and his balls are so big :( can't help it even though he's embarrassed every time you see how much you really affect him.

big balls. the plumpest roundest juiciest balls. notice how Levi can only cross his legs loosely or set his ankle on his knee sitting down. part of why he dislikes the new SC uniform is the jockstrap is too cramped for him.

hhh imagine him kneeling on the bed with his tight ass up in the air and his balls pressed up and snug between his thighs hh. honestly his balls are more sensitive than other places.. don't you want to pay attention to just them.. tugging and squeezing and sucking until he comes just from that...

okay anyway. those Ackerman genes make him come so so much. he has a fucking mess on his hands (literally?) when you make him come all over himself, and it drips from your pussy when he's done with you. the breeding kink is literally built into him.

Levi shaves enough to keep his crotch well-groomed. always. the black curled hairs are coarse but stubby down around his base. enough to sink down on him with your mouth and nuzzle comfortably but can still practically the taste the oily musk of his sex.

#so yeah :)#aot levi smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman headcanons #levi ackerman fic #levi.thirsts

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safetycar-restart · 8 months

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Oh those fabio thought, i need sleep so bad but all i can think of is bestest boy himbo fabio.

Like theres so many pictures of him on having like hotgirlsummer vibes, just him on a boat with you and wearing nothing but his collar and sunscreen. Lying in the shade on the warmest and sunniest parts of the day as you edge him, getting dressed to go to dinner and him not having to think even out around people,just chilling and folöowing you.

Also re clothes would ds au Fabio be into lingerie? Weve established hes got several collars to mixand match with his outfits, but does he like wear your panties or more like lingerie made for men? Cause fitting issues. Hed look very pretty in lace. And painted nails.

Cheers and soon zzzz🏍 anon

After the fucking chaos of today’s sprint, I think we all need some soft smutty Fabio thoughts (also I’ve been in such a Fabio mood lately lads please keep indulging by sub!fabio obsession).

Firstly, Fabio THRIVES on holiday with you. He insists on getting at least a few days with you alone, so that he can be shamelessly horny with you on a boat. He must be horny with you on a boat for at least 4 days during every break. Yes this is a requirement.

Absolutely adore the idea that he’s naked except for his collar. Honestly I think that’s fabio’s standard outfit at home with you? Or at least, it would be if Andorra wasnt so fucking cold all the time.

So when it’s just you two in a boat somewhere sunny and warm? Clothes are absolutely optional. Bonus points if you decide to sunbathe topless because Fabio will lose his fucking mind.

And of course he must have sunscreen on!! You carefully monitor how much time he spends in the sun and how much sunscreen he wears, never letting him spend too long in the sun when the sun is at its peak and making sure he waits for the sunscreen to settle before he goes in the water, etc.

If you weren’t there this would never get done. But because you’re there and you’re his Dom and you’re telling him what to do and putting on sunscreen for him and praising him for listening…. Yeah he’ll do it. He’ll do literally whatever you say.

(Sidenote: you keep this up when all his friends join and this has the absolutely hilarious consequence of you accidentally ending up managing Tony’s sun exposure too because he just does whatever Fabio does)

But anyway, he’s very happy. He gets so much time in the sun and so much attention and it’s the best. You edge him throughout the day and even though it drives him insane, he absolutely loves it.

I also think he gives you head all the time? Just you and Fabio on the deck, Fabio eating you out and grinding against the couch you’re laying on. He’s completely naked and he’s got your swimsuit pulled to the side for access. You’ve got your hand in his hair and your leg over his shoulder and he’s in absolute heaven. Absolutely zero thoughts.

And then going for dinner!! He’s smiles all round the entire evening. He doesn’t even look at the menu because you make all the decisions and he just hands over the card at the end of the meal like the good boy he is.

And ok ok we need to talk about lingerie for a second:

I think it’s the one aspect of fashion that Fabio is actually insecure about? He’ll wear the most outrageous outfits that truly make your eyes hurt without a care in the world, but he can’t even hold a pair of panties without crying.

That being said, he wants to wear them!! So badly!! Specifically he wants to wear them for you!! He wants to match lingerie with his collar and present himself you like a pretty present for you to unwrap and play with.

But there’s something so… vulnerable about that fantasy of his? It’s not the same as wearing a ridiculous outfit because he thinks it looks good. This is…. This is about being pretty for his Dom. And he’s so scared.

I think you’d have to bring it up? Like one day you’re going over kink lists because you like to do that every couple of months to make sure you’re both on the same page. And to your surprise, Fabio stutters when you say feminisation. He’s never shown any interest before and he’s certainly never liked humiliation so you’re a little confused.

But slowly but surely he begins to open up about his fantasy and well… he’d look so pretty.

#sub!fabio #d/s au #fq #nsfw.#👗#🏍️#f!reader #soft soft vibes

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lowlights · 2 years

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15 + Javi G or 16 + Din, whichever interests you more?? 👀

Hi, lovely!! I am going to go with Javi G for this one. This got away from me. I'm in a sappy mood, I don't know what to tell ya. Thank you for sending in this prompt for day 3 of 14 of my drabble marathon <3

Prompt: 15. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Javi G x f!reader

Cuteness overload, Javi being a tiny bit needy. Body issues mentioned for both parties, but Javi needs some reassurance here. He's given you plenty. He's also a little bratty and just wants to go swimming with you. Fidgety boy. ~900 words. No editing, sorry. It's late.

The sun blazes overhead, so bright that not even your eyelids can block out the blinding light. You’re content to bake in the heat, relishing in the low humidity that is so rare in summer afternoons. A stray breeze dances across your skin every so often, but for the most part, the air around you is silent. Still. Calm.

The man beside you is none of those things.

You can feel his bouncy, fidgeting energy long before he opens his mouth. “Mi reina, are you ready for a swim?”

You shake your head lazily, keeping your eyes closed and face turned to the sky. “Maybe in a little bit. The sun feels so nice, doesn’t it? I get why lizards do this now,” you say with a contented sigh.

Javi grumbles something under his breath, something about how he didn’t know he was dating a lizard, but you choose to ignore him. The silence doesn’t last long.

“But dinner will be soon, I’ve got the chef preparing your favorite dish. We can squeeze in a dip in the pool if we go now, hm?” His tone borders on urgent, but this is the first time the both of you have gotten a free afternoon together in ages. Besides, it’s not like the chef won’t wait for you.

“Five more minutes, Javi. Then we can go in,” you promise, raising a chilled glass of white sangria to your lips. It’s crisp and refreshing, a perfect foil to the heat. You’ll have to remember to thank the chef for making an extra large pitcher for you.

You’re starting to settle back into a dreamy half-sleep when you feel a heavy weight between your legs on the lounge chair. Your eyes pop open at the same moment you gasp.

A pair of soulful, puppy-dog brown eyes stare back at you.

“Javier, what the hell are you doing?” you ask as he crawls to a more comfortable position as you spread your legs to accommodate him. He wraps his arms around your hips and rests his head on your lower stomach. You try not to laugh when he gives your bare tummy a smooch before closing his eyes. The smile on his lips makes you remember how much you love this big-hearted goofball with his mess of curly hair. Not too long ago, you would have been self-conscious about him kissing you there, but too many months have passed for you to doubt that he loves every inch of you.

Speaking of, why is he still wearing his shirt? He never does that by the pool when it’s just the two of you. “Babe? What’s with this?” you ask, tugging on the collar of his button-up. He groans into your stomach before looking up at you.

“I am not feeling my best these days. My form is…not so fit anymore,” he laments, a sad frown on his face. You run your hand through his curls and silently curse the voice in his head that continuously puts himself down. He nuzzles into you, rubbing his nose against you like a lazy cat before following with his lips. His mouth is hot on your already-warm skin.

You pull on his shirt again and he gets the hint, quickly sitting up on his knees to tug it off before dropping back down. He turns his attention to your inner thigh, nipping closer and closer to your core. As much as you want him to continue, you want him to know something first. You rest your hand on his cheek, stopping his movement.

“C’mere.”

He climbs up towards you, both of you chuckling when the lounge chair rocks back and forth a bit. You squish together on your sides, facing each other with your legs intertwined. You brush his hair back from where it’s fallen in front of his eyes.

“The form? It’s better than fit, Javi. It’s good. It’s really fucking good,” you say with a soft smile before pulling him in for a kiss. You’ve never told Javi a lie, and that fact hasn’t changed. “You can’t love something on my body but hate it on yourself.”

You can see the words “watch me” starting to form on his lips, so you cut him off with a passionate kiss. He moans against your mouth when your tongue begs for entry, and you try to keep your composure when you feel his steadily-hardening cock rub against your leg.

“God, Javi, again? That’ll be the third time today.” You bite your lip to keep in a moan as he kisses your neck. He knows just where to suck, pulling little noises from you. It’s his favorite move because he knows it makes you instantly boneless.

“What can I say, mi reina. I can’t get enough of you.”

As good as his mouth feels, his warm skin on yours is making you both sticky with sweat.

“Alright, pool time. You’re a freaking furnace, Jav.” You push him off with a laugh, and he looks triumphant as he helps you to your feet.

“Ah! I should have gotten on top of you an hour ago!” he jokes. The smug look on his face flashes to surprise when you shove him into the water. You jump in after him, laughing at how his hair is plastered to his head. You swim over and wrap your legs around his waist. He wraps his arms around you, his smile brighter than the sun in the sky.

“Menace,” you chastise.

“Love you?”

“Love you too, Javi.”

#javi g #my beloved sunshine boy #tuwomt #javi x f!reader #drabble #day 3 of 14

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