#au gif

[marril96]

Everybody Wants to Rule the World by @cabinetofquriosities

[a-girl-who-loves-disney]

This is so good! I’m still familiarizing myself with Regency!AUs, so I’m so excited to have found one with Roy Kent 😍

Love this first chapter! Wonderful job!!!

Unexpectedly Yours: Part 1

Fandom: Ted Lasso (Regency AU)

Pairing: Roy Kent x F!Reader

Summary: Lord Roy Kent still has yet to marry. He hates the notion that marriage is a way to ensure your status in society. You have delayed your debut to society for years because of the same idea. So what happens when two people who hate the idea of marriage are constantly drawn to each other?

A/N: inspired by my post here. probably gonna be 2 or 3 parts max mini series.

You thought you'd have more time. You thought you'd be able to enjoy your youth for just a bit longer, but your time is up. Now five and twenty, your parents can no longer let you delay your debut to society any longer. Tonight, your debut ball, is probably going to be the worst night of your life.

__________________________

The Viscount, Lord Roy Kent wasn't too keen on moving from London to the small town of Richmond. However, after his brother-in-law's passing, he understood his sister's need for a change of scenery. So he bought an estate in Richmond for him, his sister, and his niece to live in.

Not long after their move, the viscount and his family were already being invited to take part in society, albeit, a small portion of it, but still a notable population of it.

"We should go," Lord Kent's sister, Clara, insists after viewing the invitation over her brother's shoulder.

"Why?"

"We should socialize, Roy. We didn't move here just to be holed up in the house all day. Come on, it could be good for us." Lord Kent groans, and Clara nudges him, "Fine. Don't go. Phoebe and I will go ourselves. I'm sure there will be some children there she could befriend."

Hating the idea of his sister and niece going by themselves gave Lord Kent the push he needed, "Fine. I'll go."

Clara beams at her older brother, "Wonderful!" she plucks the invitation from her brother's hand, "I'll send back a reply that the three of us will be attending."

_________________________

The day of the ball, your mother was fussing in a way you have never seen before. You and your young cousin, Cecelia, watch your mother flutter about ordering servants and cooks in a very frightening manner.

"I don't like who auntie is right now," your eight year old cousin whispers to you.

You snort, "Just wait until you debut, I'm sure it'll be just the same. Maybe worse."

Cecelia grimaces and then sighs, "Do you think other children will be attending? I've made sure all of my dolls look pretty if they do."

"I'm sure a few will come, Cece."

"Is Keeley coming? I like playing with her."

You softly smile at Cecelia, "Yes, but she won't be able to play with you, darling. She has to socialize with everyone and, most importantly, keep any potential suitors away from me," you give your cousin a joking nudge.

Your attention is suddenly on your mother as she starts scolding one of your handmaidens. You rush over to them and step in-between them, "Mother, what happened?"

"The flower arrangements are all wrong! They don't look how I want them to. They-"

"Mother," you place your hands on her shoulders, "Breathe." You then nod to your handmaiden and she scurries away. You guide her to a nearby bench and sit beside her, "I've never seen you so stressed before. You've planned balls prior to this."

"Yes, but this is especially important. This is your debut. The time for you to finally find a husband. Potential suitors will be here and everything needs to be perfect! Most importantly, the viscount Lord Kent and his family will be attending."

Your brows shoot up in surprise, "Really?"

You've heard news about the viscount and his family. They moved to the small town of Richmond due to Lord Kent's sister's husband passing away. She has a daughter around the same age as Cecelia.

Lady O'Sullivan, Lord Kent's sister, and her daughter, Phoebe, have been seen out, but there have been very few sightings of Viscount Kent. He's, essentially, an anomaly, a mystery that everyone is trying to solve.

You? You have no particular interest in him at all, even if he is attending the ball held in your honor.

"Mother, I'm sure however the flower arrangements turn out, it'll be fine. Everything will be fine."

_____________________________

When Lord Kent, Lady O'Sullivan, and Phoebe arrive, there are already many guests present. As soon as they step foot into your home, your mother is rushing up to them.

"Lord Kent, it is an honor to be your host for tonight."

Clara steps forward, "Thank you so much for the invitation, Lady L/N," she thanks your mother with a curtsey. She then gestures to her brother, "This is my brother, Lord Kent and my daughter, Phoebe."

Your mother curtsies to Lord Kent and smiles at Phoebe, "Hello Phoebe. My niece is upstairs with other children. If you go to Jane," she points at the woman at the bottom of the stairs, "she can take you to them."

Phoebe looks up at her mother and when she receives a nod, she hastily rushes to Jane, ready to play with other children.

"I hope you enjoy the ball," your mother says, "My daughter, Y/N, is somewhere here, either mingling or hiding," she gives a sorry expression and then moves to greet other arriving guests.

Lord Kent groans as he enters the ballroom and Clara elbows him, "Behave. Go converse, mingle." Lord Kent slowly turns his head and glares at his sister, who then snorts, "Or stand in a corner and look menacing." She leaves her brother's side, heading for the h'orderves.

Lord Kent assumed his intimidating stature. His hands clasped behind his back as he walks around the ballroom. It was much smaller than ones he's been in when he lived in London. Still, it was impressive for a home in a small town.

"Sir?" a servant offers a tray of drinks and Lord Kent takes one. He sips the beverage, still wandering around the room, a looming and intimidating presence.

__________________

Your dance card had filled up quick. Left and right were you pulled around the dance floor by different prospects of men. They were all so...boring.

After another dance, you drag your body to the corner where Keeley and her fiancé, James, or Jamie as he liked to be referred to, stood in the corner talking and drinking.

"So?" your best friend asks with hopeful eyes.

"Just as boring as the last," you say as James offers you a drink, "Honestly, I don't understand how you dealt with this for years until this numpty finally turned himself around," you gesture to Jamie.

Jamie shrugs, "I'm just lucky she was willing to give me another chance," he kisses Keeley's cheek lovingly and you inwardly sigh. You always hoped to have a love like theirs. Yes, it was rocky at the start, but Jamie had changed himself around to be the man Keeley deserved.

"Yes, well," you lift your now empty glass, "I'm going to get another one of these." As soon as you turn around, you bump into a man, causing his drink to spill over him.

Your eyes widen, "I'm-"

"Watch where you're going," he rasps out.

You're taken aback, "Excuse me?"

"You need to be more aware of your surroundings," the man says with a frown.

You scoff, "Well I didn't know you were right behind me, so maybe it's you who needs to be aware of your surroundings and not stand so close to people!"

The man's brows furrow and just as he opens his mouth to retort, your mother appears by his side, "I am so sorry about this, Lord Kent. I'm sure this was an accident, right, Y/N?"

"Yes, an accident," you say, glaring at the viscount.

"We will happily pay for a new coat," you mother says and you roll your eyes.

"It's fine," Lord Kent mumbles and turns on his heel, going back in the direction he came.

Your mother turns to you with a stern expression, "You best hope you didn't upset Lord Kent too much."

"It was an accident, mother. Besides, he stood too close to me. How was I suppose to know he was right behind me?"

__________________________

After the ball ended, you were so exhausted. The dancing, the mingling, all of it was too much. Several men had asked to call upon you, but you had declined, to your mother's dismay.

A week later, you thought you would have a break from your mother's meddling in your future. However, you were very wrong.

Your mother had called you in and surprised you with a guest.

"Lord Kent?" you look at him confusedly and then give your mother a questioning stare.

"Lord Kent accompanied his niece, Phoebe, here so she can play with Cecelia."

"How...thoughtful," you clear your throat and smooth out your dress, "Well, I'll let you two talk while I go back to reading," you move to step out of the room, but your mother stops you.

"Wait, darling, can you keep Lord Kent company for a moment? I just need to check in with the kitchen for lunch. It'll be only for a moment." she looks at you expectantly. You know exactly what she's doing and you don't like it one bit. She's already been on you about rejecting several suitors. A part of you regrets that now because, maybe if you hadn't, you wouldn't be forced to sit here with Lord Kent.

"Very well," you slowly lower yourself onto the bench beside your mother.

Your mother jumps to her feet excitedly, "Lovely! I will be back shortly!" you watch her scurry out of the room but not before giving a nod to your handmaiden.

You sigh and turn your attention to Lord Kent whom is sitting up straight, face void of any expression. His dark brown eyes staring back at you.

You wiggle in your seat, slightly unnerved with his gaze, "So, are you enjoying our little town, Lord Kent?"

He gives you a grunt and after cocking a brow at him, he speaks, "As much as I can. It's very quiet. Society is still just as nosey here."

You snort, "You have no idea." You clear your throat again, "Have my parents bought you a new jacket to replace the one I ruined?"

"No."

"Oh? Why not?"

"I told them not to. The jacket wasn't very important to me to begin with."

"Seemed rather important enough for you to snap at me," you can't help but say the statement with a little disdain.

"I...apologize for my behavior. I had a distasteful encounter with someone prior that made me upset. I'm not excusing my behavior, but providing some context to what led to it."

You nod, accepting his behavior, "Who did you encounter? Was it Lady Radcliffe and her daughter, Lavinia?"

He rises a brow at you, "How did you know?"

"They always stir trouble. I told mother not to invite them but she didn't want to look bad for not," you shake your head, your nose scrunched up, "All that family cares about it maintaining a higher status."

"Doesn't everybody?"

You shake your head, "Not me. I don't care about any of it. I dislike how dishonorable and ingenuine people become when they find out you have a high place in society. I know I'm privileged to have enough money to live comfortably, however, I don't like the theatrics of it all."

Lord Kent leans forward, resting his elbows over his knees, "You sound very passionate about this considering you just held a ball to do just that."

You scoff, "Please, as if that was truly what I wanted. I've pushed my debut back for years. I couldn't delay it anymore."

"No one caught your eye last night then?"

"Not anyone in the slightest," you sigh, "What about you then? I imagine many ladies throw themselves at your feet because of your status. Doesn't it get tiring? Doesn't it feel like you're being used?"

Before Lord Kent can answer, your cousin and Phoebe are rushing into the room, "Y/N, we need your help!"

"With?"

"We want to play princesses and dragons!" Cece answers excitedly.

"You want me to play the dragon?"

"No, you're playing the princess, we're playing the dragons, and Uncle Roy will play the knight that rescues you!" Phoebe replies, pointing to everyone and giving them their roles.

"Oh, um," you glance at Lord Kent, "I don't think your uncle-"

"Let's go," Lord Kent says as he stands to his feet.

"Really?!" Cece looks up at him with excitement.

"Really?" you ask him in surprise. He shrugs, causing you to then stand, "Alright. Let's go."

"Yes!" the two young girls cry out as they rush out of the room and up the stairs to Cece's play room.

You and Lord Kent follow at a much slower pace. Lord Kent, walking besides you, leans in and whispers, "Phoebe's been struggling to make friends since we've moved. I'm happy she found a friend in Cecelia."

"I can't imagine how hard it must've been. Losing her father and moving away."

"It hasn't been easy, but I've been doing my best to see to that her and my sister are well taken care of."

You place a hand on Lord Kent's arm, "You're a good brother and man, my Lord. I don't know many men who would do the same."

Lord Kent, glances at your hand and then you pull away, mumbling a 'sorry', before rushing to Cecelia's play room.

Lord Kent proceeds to follow you at the same slow pace. His fists clench behind his back where he clasps them. There's a fluttering in his chest that he's never felt before and he's sure he's going to have a heart attack.

[rosemaryblossoms]

Batfamily with a Yarnaby Reader

Quick Author’s note: This little idea of mine applies to both yandere batfamily and regular bat family.

Reader is basically the product of their mother and Bruce from a one night stand. Mom wanted to keep the baby and you two had a good life together before she died into a car accident. Since she was a loyal, friendly, and honest loading worker at Playtime Co. factory, they took you in as an orphan. You intrigued them with your skills in each game so they used you as the next experiment, Experiment 1166 or Yarnaby they would call you. You were whipped and forced to obey Dr. Harley Sawyer’s orders until one day everything was stopped and shut down when the Batfamily was involved. Bruce found out that you were his kid by your files he found at the company and investigated, the news in Gotham spreaded like wildfire with all of this, especially this news. Despite your animal like state, he took you in. You were still innocent as the other toys; you were just like the other toys. Scared, hungry, and angry. Just trying to survive. Damien absolutely LOVED you and admired your soft yarniness and strength. Taking you to cuddle and watch him train. Cuddling is a big thing in this family when it came to you. Looking at you with love as you looked back with your sweet, big dark eyes. It was you and them against the world kiddo.

They love you so much.

[tojicide]

OBSESSED. ☆ SYLUS QIN.

📰 extra, extra! why is your bodyguard so obsessed with you? girl, you wanna know...

warnings. fem!reader, popstar!reader, bodyguard!sylus, established romantic history ( very brief ), pet names, semi-public, fingering, oral ( fem. receiving ), cowgirl, unprotected p in v. wc. 4.6k.

an. reused the header and a bit of the plot from an aaron hotchner fanfic i wrote on wattpad in like… 2021??? tweaked most of the details obvs but ig i was born as a bodyguard au lover

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Your bodyguard was such a buzzkill.

Dragging you out of every party you make an appearance at, replacing your shots with water once he believes you’ve had one too many, watching you like a hawk no matter where you are or who you’re with...

You despise those who have an inability to have fun, so as far as you’re concerned, Sylus is the devil reincarnated. You aren’t exactly shy about your opinion of him either, and perhaps in hindsight, that is exactly why he was currently pacing through the party you’re in attendance of to try and ruin your night yet again.

(Ruin your night or… do his job? Hell if you care about the logistics of it all. Two sides of the same coin, you think.)

His protective instinct only grew more intense ever since the two of you shared a kiss before a concert of yours that left your lipstick smeared over your face like there was no tomorrow…

And what did that asshole do? Nothing. It was in his nature to make your life miserable after all. Sylus let you walk out in front of your thousands of fans, makeup messy and appearance disheveled all from his mouth on yours alone.

And boy, did the tabloids have a time with that one… Who was the culprit? A new fling of yours? Fiancé? Possible baby daddy? Each and every news outlet had some uniquely wrong to say. Can’t a girl have a makeout session with her bodyguard in peace?

Unfortunately for you, the paparazzi have been hounding you ever since that day, itching to get the 4-1-1 on your love life.

And ever since, you haven’t given many people the time of day—including Sylus. Tonight, you’ve managed to stay two steps ahead of your dear bodyguard and evade eventual capture for just a bit longer. You’re currently surrounded by a few of your friends, socialites and actors alike.

Your lips seem to flap freely when you have a few drinks in you, but tonight, you’re sober but even more talkative than ever. Your chosen topic of conversation? Your overbearing and stupidly handsome bodyguard, of course.

Too lost in your story, waving your arms around to your theatrical pleasure, you hardly noticed the way your friends’ faces paled to a ghostly shade of white, their eyes nearly bulging out of their heads and their lips parted as if they had something to say but… couldn’t.

All the while, you were too busy blowing off the  steam that you’d acquired from your last encounter with the forsaken bodyguard. “…And I was like, why are you so obsessed with me?”

As fate would have it, you hear a throat clear behind you followed by an annoyed sigh that you’ve grown to know like the back of your hand. You spin around, already wearing a scowl.

“Obsessed with you, hm?” Sylus says, his voice low and seemingly dangerous, though your utter distaste for the man rids him of his intimidation. “You’re quite self important. I could never live in a world where I’d fall at the feet of an egotistical popstar.”

You roll your eyes at that. Who does he think he is? Everyone loves you—all except for the disgustingly handsome man standing in front of you.

“Mm… well, you can always die an untimely death and never have to work for me again,” you reply, giving him the most passive aggressive smile known to man. “Hopefully that gives you an ounce of hope.”

“It does,” he replies, returning the same expression that you gave him.

It’s borderline infuriating how undisturbed Sylus was. No, it is infuriating. No matter how many insults you chucked his way, he never cracked. (And the one time he did, it led to the two of you playing tonsil tennis in your dressing room...)

You shake your head, huffing in utter annoyance. You then hold your wrists up for display, cocking your head to the side as you give him a mock puppy dog expression. “Sooo… are you here to take me away, Officer Buzzkill?”

Sylus merely blinks in response to your taunting, taking a firm grasp on one of your wrists before he tugs you through the sea of partygoers. He laces your fingers together, squeezing tight as to not lose hold of you.

“Must you always make things so difficult?” he asks, keeping his eyes ahead.

You shrug your shoulders. “More or less.”

“More or less?” he echoes, glancing over his shoulder to properly look at you. “I suggest you try a different style of communication, sweetness. Your clipped attitude will get you nowhere.”

“Oh? But it’s gotten me so far already…” you trail off, glancing at his lips for a few agonizingly long seconds before a smirk tugs on the corner of your mouth. “In fact, I think it can get me even further.”

Sylus’s jaw tenses, his eyes slipping shut as he tears his gaze away from you. He can’t handle the way you’re looking at him—so unbelievably beautiful with those siren eyes of yours, the mere sight of you already stirring something unwanted within him.

He turns around to continue leading you through the crowd without a reply. You begin to glance around yourself, attempting to plot your brilliant escape.

“Don’t,” he flatly states, his iron grip tightening on your hand.

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a strong tone of defiance.

Sylus gives your hand one solid tug before you’re standing in front of him, his free hand pressing onto the small of your back as he keeps you pressed to his chest. “If you haven’t noticed, you brat, I will always chase you. I’ll find you just the same.”

You almost deflate under his intense gaze, his deep red eyes piercing through your own. It wasn’t often that Sylus manhandled you, but when he did, it made you feel… different. Intrigued, maybe.

“How touching,” you deadpan, “but you still get on my nerves.”

Sylus clicks his tongue. “Tch. Oh, I’m sorry… when have I ever cared about what you think?”

“Never,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “You know… if you hate me so much, you should just quit on me.”

Sylus rolls his eyes, his red irises drawing you in like no other. “I don’t… hate you. You should be rather thankful that I don’t, because I’m doubtful that anyone else would want this job of mine—you’re quite the handful.”

“Mm, I’m only saying,” you murmur with a shrug, giving his hand a harsh squeeze as if the roughness of your grasp would make him let go, but he, of course, does not. “You don’t need this job, and yet, here you are.”

He raises a brow. “What do you mean by that?”

You smile, the same shit-eating grin that he has grown to be all too familiar with. “Give me your wallet.”

Sylus huffs, his broad shoulders deflating as he fishes his black leather wallet from his back pocket and hands it over to you. You take it with ease, taking your hand from his as you crack it open.

You slip his Black Card from the sleeve, proving that he truly didn’t need the job for any monetary gain. And then, a triumphant smile graces your lips as you pull out none other than a Polaroid photo taken of you—backstage at your concert just before the kiss you two shared.

“Ooh… what’s this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

Sylus reaches forward to try and snatch the tiny photo from you, but you are far too quick. “What are you revealing exactly? That you were secretly snooping in my wallet prior to now?”

“Yes,” you admit without hesitation, “and that you’re secretly rich and in love with me. Does that make us even?”

His jaw sets, his piercing gaze set on yours. He works to snatch the photo from you, tucking his belongings back into his wallet before he slips it into his pocket. “No. Maybe if you were less of a pain, we could be even.”

You wiggle your eyebrows in suggestion. “You’re not denying being in love with me, dear bodyguard of mine.”

Sylus gives you a deadpan expression. “Must you always be so self righteous? God forbid I am proud of you and your success.”

The genuine nature of his words set you back a step, your brows knitting together and your lips parting. If Sylus noticed the shift of your expression, he didn’t mention it. Thankfully. His cold fingers lace with yours once more, continuing the stride towards the exit of the party.

“Rather than putting on this show of yours, you truly should be thanking me for saving your reputation,” he quietly adds, his hand now curled around your waist as you approach the exit. “There is a swarm of paparazzi outside who are desperate to get their grimy hands on a picture of their beloved popstar doing something remotely scandalous.”

(And if Sylus knows anything about you, it’s that you love scandals. According to you, they ‘make life worth living’. Tch. Diva.)

You chuckle. “Aww, you care!”

“Do I care, or is it my job to look after you?” he asks, plucking his sunglasses from his pocket to place them on your face, shielding your eyes from the rapid camera flashes of the paparazzi. “Public intoxication numerous times a week is not a very good look for you, sweetie. Incredibly frowned upon.”

Your jaw sets as you listen to his words. While they are undeniably true, you don’t have any plans for admitting that—not now or in the near future.

“Making out with my bodyguard is frowned upon as well, but you didn’t seem to be complaining about that bit,” you say under your breath.

Your voice was low enough that your weighted words were almost drowned out by the booming music of the party and by the chatter of the photographers you’re about to be engulfed in. Almost. 

Sylus flashes you a glare. “You shouldn’t mumble. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“You heard me,” you state.

He did hear you, that was exactly the problem. It was no coincidence that the two of you haven’t spoken much since your very intense lip lock. You’ve been avoiding each other, evading the invisible string that connects the two of you like both an electric current and a noose.

The tension between the two of you was tangible, palpable even—you could practically taste it just as well as you could still taste his lips on your own. It was intoxicating, imprinting, searing.

It managed to distract you from the flashing lights of the cameramen who were swarming you, capturing flick after flick of you being led through the crowd.

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “You know, you can help me out with all of this,” you murmur, gesturing towards the paparazzi. “My publicist came up with an idea that will get them off my back for a while. Give them the answers they need and… whatnot.”

“Is that right?” he asks, glancing your way. “Do tell.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, tuning out all of the chattering paparazzi who are currently surrounding you. “Be my impromptu mystery man for the cameras. I’ll give you anything you want in return, I swear it.”

Sylus hums, the sound omitting a deep rumble into the air. “Anything I want? My, my, sweets, you’ve made me an offer I cannot refuse.”

You huff, grasping onto the collar of his jacket as you pull him into you. “Just go with it.”

“Just go with wh— mmph!” Sylus’s words were muffled by your lips slotting against his in a searing kiss, his hands instinctively finding their home on the curve of your hips.

The kiss was… tame. It was supposed to be, after all. It was merely for the cameras, a way for you to put an answer to the questions that have been flooding your inbox and left your name circulating in the news for days on end.

But when Sylus’s tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you slightly pull away, muttering a faint, “Sylus, what’re you…” before he pulls you right back in, his large hand now resting on your cheek.

“If you’re going to use me like a whore at your disposal, I’d suggest you let me enjoy myself and taste you properly,” he sporadically says into your mouth, his hand shifting to tangle in your hair as he tilts you to his liking, your tongues meeting in with gentle swipes. “See? I knew you could do better than that.”

True to his suggestion, you kissed him like there was no tomorrow, your hands fisting his shirt in your palms as your lips moved in tandem with his. Lipstick and paparazzi long forgotten, you find yourself getting lost in the moment, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as his hands give your hips a firm squeeze.

The moment he hears that sweet, impossibly faint sound of your pleasure, he knows that he’s in for it now. That’ll do it for him.

He abruptly pulls away, clasping his hand onto yours as he continues pulling you through the now stunned crowd of paparazzi. Sporting an erection and your lipstick smeared on his lips makes no difference to Sylus—if anything, he enjoys the world knowing that he has the hots for the woman who he has sworn to protect.

Sylus helps you into the passenger seat of your black SUV, closing the door behind you before making his way to the driver’s seat. He peels off, driving with intention through the streets of the city.

It was now evident to you that he was driving the SUV in pursuit of his favorite lookout spot, one that overlooks the bustling city from a distance. Sylus had taken you there once before as per your request to ‘stay out a bit later’. Nothing happened then, but you have an inclination that your luck has changed.

“I know what I want from you,” he states, placing a hand on your thigh.

How did he already manage to figure out what he wants in return for helping you? A raise? A car? The blood of his enemies? You’re intrigued, raising a brow. “You do?”

“I do,” he confirms without missing a beat. “Get into the backseat.”

A gasp leaves your kiss swollen lips as you mull over the utter implications of his words. It didn’t take a genius to understand them, but you were… surprised to say the least. “I think you’re overstepping your boundaries, Mr. Qin.”

In a literal sense, sure he was. But if the two of you were going to judge based on what you two want, he absolutely wasn’t—you both knew that.

He chuckles, the sound low yet infuriatingly sexy. His hand slips beneath your skirt, his middle finger brushing along the damp spot of your panties. “Your body seems to disagree with you, ma’am.”

And if you weren’t already wet before, hearing him call you ma’am was more than enough to do it for you. “Shut up,” you grumble.

“You can make me,” he suggests, setting the vehicle into park before giving your thigh a few pats. He nods his head towards the backseat. “Go on.”

Without hesitation, you kick your heels off and crawl into the back of the vehicle, thumping down on the seat with a sharp sigh. Sylus follows you within the blink of an eye, his knees settling on the spacious floor of the car.

“What’re you…” you ask, though your eyebrows raise as the pieces of the puzzle click together in your mind. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” he repeats, his warm hands rubbing your knees as he spreads your legs apart, his lips finding the tender skin of your inner thigh. “You know… you truly should be resting for your show tomorrow evening.”

“Should I?” You bite on your bottom lip as he leans forward, nosing at your clothed pussy with a muffled moan of his own. He inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal driving him to the brink of insanity.

“You should,” he answers, pressing an open mouthed kiss on your cunt through the fabric of your panties. “You should stop talking too. You need to rest your voice just as much.”

You swallow hard, whimpering ever so softly as his fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs to give himself access to your glistening core.

His eyes are set on your heat, his cool hands hiking your thighs over his shoulders. He rests his cheek on the warmth of your inner thigh, glancing up at you. “Because believe me, sweetie, the things that I want to do to you will not be in favor of that beautiful voice of yours.”

“Oh?” you ask, titling your head. “What will they be in favor of?”

He grins, wicked and devilishly handsome. “I’m glad you asked, because there’s someone else I’ve been wanting to hear from.”

Before you have the chance to reply, he’s already got his face delving deep between your legs, the filthy sounds of squelches and slurping filling the otherwise silent car.

“Oh, I— mmh, you didn’t answer my… my question,” you stammer out between breathy moans, your head tilting back on the headrest as your eyes flutter shut.

Sylus smiles into your pussy, pointing his tongue to accentuate the squelching noises that your heat was making, entirely wet and dripping for him.

“Can you not hear her?”

Never in your life did you think that having a man on his knees talking to your cunt would be this arousing, but… you’re fucking soaked.

“I-I can,” you gasp, cracking your eyes open to look down at him. “Fuck, you can talk to her in fifty languages for all I care, holy shit.”

He quietly chuckles, the sound sending a spark of vibrations onto your already sensitive clit. Your thighs tense, aching to close on him, but he keeps them spread with his strong hands on your thighs.

Your lips part as a string of breathy sounds leave you, beautiful moans and needy whimpers alike—all of which play as music to Sylus’s ears. It was nice to know that your mouth was good for more than just singing and bickering at him…

Teeth nibbling into your bottom lip, you glance down at him, only to be met with the most crazed eyes known to mankind. So disheveled, your slick leaking down his chin while his tongue delves into your heat like a man starved. He looks like he’s in his own pussy drunk heaven.

When you feel his pointed tongue begin to curve and lick in ways it hadn’t before, you do your best to follow his movements.

S-Y-L-U-S he spells on your puffy cunt with his writing tool of choice—none other than his stupidly talented tongue.

“You’re so—”

“Shh,” he cuts you off, his voice more like a husky whisper now. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, sucking on your clit before releasing it with a harsh pop.

Filthy sounds fill the air, your own breathy moans spilling from your swollen lips in tandem with the messy sucks of Sylus’s lips on your cunt. Not to mention, your girl truly was loud.

“Singing so beautifully for me,” he rasps, his eyes flitting up to watch your blissful expression. Lidded eyes, parted lips, flushed skin—an absolute wet dream of his come to life.

You bite your lip, hardly focused on the words coming out of his mouth. “Mmh, what…?”

“Quiet, sweets,” he repeats, hooking his hands even tighter around your thighs as he gives your heat a few more harsh licks. “I told you I was talking to her, didn’t I?”

It doesn’t take much longer for your legs to begin to tremble, your body writhing in his grasp as he sets you any way but loose. Your hips buck up, your core grinding against his wet muscle as you chase your release.

Sylus was more than eager to give it to you, redoubling his efforts while locking his hands over your legs to keep you steady enough for him to pleasure you effectively. The warmth pooling in your belly was far too much, far more intense than anything you had ever experienced before.

“Mmh, I… I’m coming,” you warn through an airy whine.

And when you do, Sylus swoops in even more greedily than before, his flat tongue lapping at your honeyed release. There was no way he would ever be able to go without tasting you like this now that he has. Fuck, he’s such a goner.

As you come down from your high, you grin with a few pants. “Look at you, falling at the feet of your ‘egotistical popstar’—mmph!”

Sylus plunges two fingers into your mouth to shut you up, rising to plant himself onto the seat beside you. “That’s hardly an insult to me anymore, my dear. I know what I am.”

He pulls his spit slick fingers from your mouth, bringing them to your pussy as he gently circles your sensitive clit. His free hand guides you through the motion of straddling his lap. With a simple nod of his head, he gestures for you to lift your shirt up, and you do.

“And what’s that?” you ask, watching as he leans forward to mouth at your breasts through the fabric of your bra.

“I’ve already told you,” he murmurs, bringing his free hand to his belt to free his cock from the confines of his pants. “A whore at your disposal.”

“I knew it,” you chuckle, though the sweet sound is interrupted by a breathy moan that he coaxes out of you once he slides his fat cockhead along your folds.

He clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side. “Are you not going to reciprocate my affection?” he teases, grasping tightly onto your hips. “Or do I have to work a bit harder for it, ma’am?”

Your knees would have certainly buckled if they weren’t firmly planted on the leather seats of the SUV. Who would have thought that you had a thing for white-haired bodyguards who call you ‘ma’am’?

Sylus raises a brow, a cocky smirk tugging on his lips. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

You feel your face heating up more and more the longer you look him in the eyes, shifting your hips so that the tip of his cock finally meets your entrance. “Just… shut up and put it in.”

“How demanding,” he hums, smirking ever so slightly as he uses his grasp on you to make one sharp snap of his hips, burying balls deep inside of your heat. “But as you wish, pretty.”

You cry out immediately, the burn of the stretch fading into unfolding pleasure. Eyes locked on each other’s, breaths mingling with ease, skin slicked with sweat, it was…

“Perfect,” he whispers, smoothing his hands along your hips before one reaches up to cup your cheek. He pulls you into a deep, searing kiss. “So, so perfect.”

Your movements are timid at first, you were merely testing the waters that had yet to be explored. His cock stuffed you full, his tip kissing your deepest points with ease, earning a muffled whimper from your mouth that his lips swallowed up eagerly.

Sylus begins to help you move a bit quicker, rocking your hips forward in smooth rolls, earning moans from the both of you that seemed to come straight from your guts.

“Give it to me how you like it, baby,” he encourages, both of his hands planting firmly on your waist. “Use my cock however you need it, sweets, it’s yours.”

His words have your clit pulsating around his thick shaft, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you begin to work up a pace of your own that has your heart beating wildly.

“I always… fuck—I always knew you were obsessed with me,” you jest, your grin stretching wide.

Sylus hums, the sound low and deep, his iron grip on your hips helping you maintain the intensity of your movements whenever your muscles beg for a break. “Yeah? Needed me to be buried inside of you to have that bit of confirmation?”

You nod with a smile, hands wrapping around his neck as you plant your forehead against his. He smiles too, a breathy moan leaving his mouth as you circle your hips in a way that has him seeing stars.

“Fuck yeah, I’m obsessed with you,” he admits without a semblance of shame, tilting his head back on the headrest.

Already feeling your second orgasm approaching, you bury your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat that made a musk that was so beautifully Sylus. His hands smooth over your backside, giving your ass a squeeze.

“Tch, let me see that pretty face,” he demands, nudging you with his shoulder so that you were sitting up once more. “You look so beautiful like this.”

You struggle to form a sentence, bouncing unabashedly on his cock, skin slapping together in an erratic pattern that spurred you even further. A string of whimpers and whines leave your puffy lips. Though your reply lacked words, it perfectly communicated what you wanted to say.

“Oh, I know it, baby,” he rasps, tilting his head back again as his eyes slip shut. “Pussy’s addictive—shit, I’m obsessed with her too.”

You begin to lose yourself all together, reduced to nothing more than a blissed out woman riding her bodyguard’s cock. “Sylus, I… mmh, I’m gonna cum.”

He nods in understanding, smoothing his hand through your hair as he brings you in for another kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue, messy and drooling in the most beautiful way possible.

“Gonna come inside you if you keep riding me like this, baby,” he warns, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you, as if it were confirming his words. You don’t do this often, contrary to popular belief, but you are on the pill. Luckily. “Please do.”

Sylus pants through a smile, licking his lips as he guides you through a few more fleshed out grinds on his lap. “Huh… you really are something special.”

A deep groan leaves his mouth as he dips his head, grip tightening on your waist as you ride him through your shared orgasm. You aren’t sure where yours ended and his began, or if you had gotten the order wrong entirely. All you know is that in that moment, the two of you became one.

Panting, your hand plants on the fogged up window of the vehicle, leaving your handprint in its wake. Sylus lets out a breathy chuckle, raising his own shaking hand to the window.

You watch through lidded eyes as he draws a tiny heart, writing his and your first initials inside of it with a little + in the middle. How cute.

Sylus then turns to face you again, bringing his hand to your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm, placing a kiss on his skin. “I have something to admit.”

He nods his head a single time, beckoning you to continue. “What is it?”

You give him a wry smile. “My publicist never gave me the idea for that publicity stunt.”

“…I figured that much, sweetie.”

note. bodyguard!sylus, my glorious king… ok i lowkey hate this but it holds no purpose saving up space in my drafts so :D pls interact if you enjoyed, rbs are greatly appreciated <3 thank you for readingggg !!!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[kissylec]

LOVE YOU GOODBYE ──── a rafe cameron smau.

a social media au by kissylec

if tomorrow you won't be mine, won't you give it to me one last time?... being a secret is hard, and even more when prince kook himself is the one hiding you. a bittersweet wheel of emotions comes to you when you decide to put an end to a situationship that is hurting you, not taking into account how difficult it would be to get away from the oldest of the cameron siblings.

pairing . . . rafe cameron x pogue!reader warning .ᐟ . . . inspired by love you goodbye by one direction, obx spoilers, half canon half not, curse words, angst, sexual innuendo, allusion to smut, forbidden love, rafe is kind of an ass, reader is friends with the pogues, english is not my first language so bear with me kissylec says . . . SO NERVOUS OMG, this is my first smau so i'm scareddd. i'm new to all of this so pls be patient with me 😿 again, english it's not my first language so 😆🙏 i will be posting some chapters later in the week, hope you guys like it 🫶💐

masterlist .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 navigation .ᐟ

TAGLIST IS PERMANENTLY CLOSED.

chapter one. chapter two.

chapter three. chapter four.

chapter five. chapter six.

chapter seven. chapter eight.

chapter nine. chapter ten.

chapter eleven. chapter twelve.

chapter thirteen. chapter fourteen.

chapter fifteen. chapter sixteen.

chapter seventeen. chapter eighteen.

chapter nineteen. chapter twenty.

chapter twenty-one. chapter twenty-two.

chapter twenty-three. chapter twenty-four.

chapter twenty-five. chapter twenty-six.

chapter twenty-seven. chapter twenty-eight.

chapter twenty-nine. chapter thirty.

extras . . . one. two.

© KISSYLEC. 2025 — please do not plagiarize, repost, translate or claim any of my work as your own.

[redd-byrd]

Channeling my stress into doing things I’ve been meaning to do so here’s Mouthwashing Actor AU bc I’m obsessed with those

Curly’s first introduction to his prop counterpart

At least Daisuke’s having fun

[bluebellowl]

Hell yeah animation!! I got little experience doing 2D animation already but 3D is a whole other beast oh my! No coat yet bc cloth simulation isn't looking very good and just keeping it a cone gives me a lot of awkward clipping, so I'll be using bones to animate that by hand.

I only started rigging the face afterwards which then resulted in some amazing expressions I never thought possible with such a limited face.

Look at that sassy mf! I love him so much!!

Part 4 - Part 6

[marril96]

Agathario AU insp.

[rosemaryblossoms]

Fire🔥

Quick author’s note: this was based off of one of @deeranon questions about Yarnaby Reader for this post but this has a little twist to it.

Again, this concept goes for both Yandere and regular Bat family.

They said that they were going to make s’mores, it’s been sooooooooo long since you had a s’more so you were excited, like really excited.

But however, when Alfred got that fire going you immediately ran away into the corner, making pained and animalistic noises of distress. You kept hearing Dr. Sawyers words in your head “Good toys get rewards while the others are tased or burned, would you like me to burn you? You pathetic mutt, is this what you really want? I only want to see you in your full potential and this is how you pay me? By biting me after caring and looking after you when others didn’t.” You were trembling in the corner when they finally put out the fire. “Ssssh Shhh, it’s ok y/n. The fire won’t hurt you, not on our watch ok?”

He wiped away your tears as you felt comforting hands on you, you looked where the fire used to be. It was gone. You were safe, you weren’t in that factory any more, there was no Doctor Harley Sawyer because he and his machine was in a special cell in Arkham (Not the tumbler sexy man version, he’s still a brain in a machine.). Alfred decided to air fry them instead, you watched him curiously how to do it as you may have stolen a few chocolates and grahm crackers.

As for the fire place, they put up a heater and taped red, orange, and yellow ribbons on it as fire. Which you at first stared at it like this.

Before you gave a wiggle of your butt and swatted at the ribbons like a cat. Poor Jason nearly choked on his s’more.

[vante1920pm]

──;; 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 ★☆

!﹫ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: I remember arcane coming out like it was yesterday 😔

◎ | arcane masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

☆ 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: their reaction to you getting jealous over someone staring at them

☆ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: jinx, ekko, silco

☆ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: ooc, quickly scribbled this down, not proof read and also very hungry

☆ 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱: no

❛  JINX !   ❜

─      you were not okay with this

The way this weird twink stared at her made your blood boil. Jinx didn't mind your jealousy, she loved the way you would cling to her whenever the man looked her way, she enjoyed every second of it.

She does tease you with little jokes but you know she isn't serious.

She got rid of him later that night, so don't you worry about that.

❛  EKKO !   ❜

─      he didn't understand it at first,

but seeing you get red out of anger towards the person made his heart beat quicker, more than usually and that scared him

He was used to that feeling whenever he saw your face but this one was new. That was the moment he realized how much he actually loved you. He couldn't even imagine having his eyes on someone that isn't you

❛  SILCO !   ❜

─      why would you be jealous of someone staring?

He was used to people looking at him, no matter if it was because they were scared or weirdly attracted to him.

It was already a mystery to him why you loved him, he would be the last one to betray you like that. You changed his view on love and he would never trade you for anything in the world.

© 2024, vante1920pm

[awkwardgiraffe726]

Oh the way I giggled in delight at their first meeting/introduction. She’s time enough for Lloyd Hansen and then some 😆 I’m salivating! She did warn the perv, no touching 🤣 I really can’t wait to see how he retaliates 🤭

Dearly Beloved 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, arranged marriage, allusions to abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After spurning one too many suitors, you wind up with the worst person you've ever met.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: inspired by the ask about a reader that wears skirts all the time but Lloyd discovers she wears shorts too and it challenged to get past them.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You swipe the wand against your lashes one last time and shove it back into the tube. You sit up as you check the overall effect. Nothing too much. You like a dewy look, natural but glowing. You have to at least look like you care about today. 

The knock at the door is like clockwork. You’ve done this too many times. You expected your parents to give up by now. All the men did. 

You yawn and set the mascara back in your makeup case. “Come in,” you call dully. 

You watch your mother enter in the mirror. She’s in one of her stiff tweed jackets and a matching skirt. If she took a few inches off the skirt, it might be cute. 

“Waiting on you,” she tuts and crosses her arms. 

“Oh, are you?” You shut the case and stand. “I must’ve lost track of time.” 

You stand and smooth your dress. The little bow accoutrements long the shallow slit of the short skirt add a touch of sparkly to the navy blue. You’ve paired the dress with beige heels and thick gold hoop earrings. You look exactly to her standards and yet there’s disappointment in her eyes. 

“He will not like you being late,” she girds as she crosses the room and reaches for you. You stop her from touching your hair. She always has to fix what doesn’t need to be fixed. 

“Mother, it’s not on purpose. I only want to look my best. As you said,” you tilt your head coyly. 

“Don’t,” she frees herself from your grasp and points at you. “I need you to start taking this seriously. You are twenty-five.” 

“An old spinster,” you sigh dramatically, “how many is this now? Eighteen? You think this one will bite?” 

“If you would try, perhaps. Don't think you are so clever,” she bristles. 

“Mother, I’ve done everything you’ve asked me too. I’ve been on my best behaviour but you simply can’t force love,” you insist. 

“Dear, I do not know why you do this. Your father will blow an aneurysm if you keep this up,” she hisses. 

“Oh yes, the steam came out of his ears last time,” you chuckle. 

“It isn’t funny. This is our legacy. You are our legacy.” 

Your smile falls. Why you? It was her choice not to have any more heirs. If they are so important, she should have, right? Why must it be you? 

“Mother, can it not wait longer? A few years?” 

“This is not a seller’s market.” 

“And I’m not property. I’m a person. Your daughter.” 

“Mm, well, a few more years and there would be concern. For... fertility,” she sniffs. 

“Yes, I am cattle. Forgive my mistake.” 

“Please, I am not—if you tried to get along, you might find a good match,” she snips. 

“They are all snobs and terribly boring. I’ve tried.” 

“You are late. You are catty. And you roll your eyes,” she sneers. “How about a smile and a ‘yes, mother’.” 

You hold back your agitation. You get your stubbornness from her but that only seems to irk her. She didn’t raise you to be a pushover but that’s exactly what she’s telling you to be. 

“Yes, mother,” you smile and flutter your lashes, “I will try to increase my price so that you and father can go on your....” you count silently on your fingers, “twentieth honeymoon?” 

“You--” she begins and makes a fist. You lean away. She glares at you. “Rein it in.” 

She spins and stomps to the door. You exhale as your cheeks pinch painfully. At least she thought not to mess up your makeup. 

You follow her into the hallway. You’re silent. You know better than to keep on when she gets to this point. You tell that crying little girl to go back to her corner and once more paint on a smile. 

You follow her down the curling stairs and your heels echo through the foyer. She takes you to the sitting room and steps back to let your through first. You barely look at the man sat in the centre of the settee. 

“She’s here. Apologies for the wait, she was having a bad hair day,” she preens. There’s silence. “Well, then I should leave you to introduce yourselves.” 

She pulls the sliding wood doors from another era. You huff, “as if. My hair is perfect.” 

The man laughs. His sole scuffs as he stands. He says your name. 

“Mm, let’s not pretend here. We both know what this is.” 

“Straight to the point,” he remarks with a snort. “Should we exchange measurements and decide?” 

It takes you a moment to get his meaning. That’s disgusting. You face him with lip curled. “I think I can guess pretty easily,” you look him up and down. You arch a brow. “Oh, well...” 

His lips thin and he squints. The crinkles around his eyes deepen. You want to wipe off that silly mustache above his lip. 

“You’re a bit older than I expected.” You shrug. 

He puts a hand on his hip, “experience. Means I know what I’m doing.” 

You smile again, only to keep from laughing. You dig a heel into the floor and check your nails. “Sure, well, we should waste about half an hour and then we can send for my mother.” 

He clucks. You look at him, your elbow against your side as you keep your hand up. His brows knit then lift. “Lloyd Hansen.” He offers his hand, “billionaire, with a whole lot more coming to me.” 

“Right,” you look at his hand and turn away. You strut around him, “look, I’m really not looking to get married. I’m just doing what they tell me so I wouldn’t bother. Save your energy.” 

You flop onto the settee and hook one knee over the other. You rock your foot as you cross your arms. He slithers after you, stopping by the arm rest. 

“Oh, I got lots of energy,” he scoffs. “Well, half-an-hour, I can think of a few ways to pass the time. I’m not really the sort to wait until marriage.” 

You grimace at him, “no thank you.” 

“Well, aren’t you a treat? I heard about you but I thought all those guys were cucks,” he snorts. 

“Heard about me?” You repeat. 

“Sure, frigid bitch it what they’re saying,” he snickers and turns to sit beside you, “but they didn’t say anything about those legs.” 

He stretches his arm across the back of the couch above you. He tries to drop it onto your shoulders and you catch his wrist and shove him away. He chuckles again and tugs on your hair. You swat him. 

“Hey, no touching,” you snarl. 

“I like this,” he pinches the little ribbon button along the skirt, “it’s cute. Nice little peek of thigh.” 

Before you can stop him, he shoves his hand through slit of the skirt and squeezes our thigh. You yipe and you grab his other arm. He pushes up against your shorts. He frowns. 

“What?” He pinches the edge along your thigh. 

“Chafing,” you push him off of you. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m here to buy. I wanna know what I’m paying for,” he sneers. 

“Ew, ew,” you shove him again and stand, storming away as you shiver in repulsion. “Ew. Firstly, you’re too old. Second, your pervy little mustache is gross. Third, you’re nasty.” 

“You haven’t really given me a chance. One, I might have a few extra years under my belt but that means I know what I’m doing,” you face him as he holds up a thumb. “Two, this mustache is there for her pleasure. Yours, if you play your cards right. Three,” his other hand rests on his thigh as you glimpse the twitching in his cream coloured pants, “tell me how nasty to be and I’ll gladly fuck that rod out of your ass.” 

“Wow, you are repugnant,” you scoff. 

“I got some extra flavour,” he leans forward, his elbows on his legs as he clasps his hands together. “Those other guys, I know they came in here like simps in their bowties, tryna lube you up with those puppy dog eyes. Well, I’m here for business. I don’t have time to waste on games and you don’t seem to like playing. It’s perfect.” 

“It couldn’t be less awful,” you assure him. 

“Right, I’m sure you’re having the time of your life with Mommy Dearest there. Does she have wire hangers? Don’t answer that,” he laughs and sits back, leaning his arm on the cushioned rest. “At least I’m honest. I’m not gonna sit here and lick your asshole. Not figuratively. I got shit to get done, namely, getting married, and you seem, well, to put it in your language ‘so over it’,” he puts on a trite voice. 

“I’m over you,” you insist. 

“I don’t mind a girl on top,” he winks. 

“Ugh, maybe you should meet a few divorcees. They might just be desperate enough.” 

“Tried that game. She cried after. Was really awkward.” 

You glare at him. He really is gross. You’re not a prude by any measure but this is supposed to be an introduction. He’s supposed to at least pretend to be gentleman. 

“I’m done with this conversation, so you can entertain yourself,” you dismiss with a flick of your fingers. 

He chortles as you turn your back to him. You clomp over to the window and distract yourself with the hedges and the sparrows rustling within. Your mother will be upset but he’s the last of the...however many men you’d choose. 

“No wonder you got them lined up, sweet cheeks, you fill out that dress real nice,” his soles scuff on the floor. “It’s cute but I’d suggest something with a bit less at the top. I’m sure you got a nice balance.” 

You ignore him and shake your head at the panes. You listen to his slow approach. You tense as you sense him right behind you. 

“You’re not the first I’ve met either, you know? The rest of them are so... flighty. The last one had a list of demands. A fucking bride price. Chanel everything. Boring,” he says. 

You wince as he touches your back. He drags his fingers up your dress and you snarl as you go rigid. He gets even closer and hums. 

“Let me pet the kitty and then you can decide. You really can’t make a clear decision if you don’t know how a man--” he snakes his hand around your neck and you dip your chin. You bite down on the webbing between his thumb and index. 

He yowls as you clamp down on him. You let him go and he staggers away. You face him and watch him with a smug smirk as he shakes his hand. He cradles it and hisses. 

“You little...” he snarls through his teeth as his eyes blaze at you. 

“I warned you already not to touch me,” you insist. “The next time, they’ll be blood.” 

He holds up his hand and examines the red bite mark. He scowls and lowers it. His glare meets yours hotly. He squares his shoulders and narrows his eyes. 

“Oh, baby girl, you don’t know what you’ve done,” he spits. 

He turns and strides to the door. You cackle as he tries to pull them inward first, then figures to slide them apart. You stay as you are as you hear his footsteps reverberate around the foyer. You turn to face the window again. 

He marches down the long stone walk toward the arched driveway. You’ve never chased one out before. To be honest, all the others were too shy to get that close. He waves at Carmen, the valet. You tisk between your teeth and shrug as you spin back. 

Your mom will probably let her fists fly now but it will be worth it, so long as you never have to see that man again. 

[orion-archives]

MORE DOODLES OF "From Prime to Papa" AU

(But it's just baby Optimus and Megatron)

I headcanon newborn hatchlings that are still very underdeveloped (can't walk, eat on their own or see) are like this before they learn how to run and try to bite everything and everyone:

Baby Megatron and Optimus be upon ye

Also look at this gif of Sentinel running/driving away:

He reminds me of a cat escaping after breaking something.

He is trying to escape his new responsibilities.

[bilosan]

buddie + cowboy au

(9-1-1 // gif prompts)

[prostoy-brodyaga]

trying aseprite again

[a-girl-who-loves-disney]

It’s only chapter 2 and I already LOVE them!! Another fantastic chapter! The maze and fountain scenes ere so cute 🥰

Unexpectedly Yours: Part 2

Fandom: Ted Lasso (Regency AU)

Pairing: Roy Kent x F!Reader

Summary: Lord Roy Kent still has yet to marry. He hates the notion that marriage is a way to ensure your status in society. You have delayed your debut to society for years because of the same idea. So what happens when two people who hate the idea of marriage are constantly drawn to each other?

Part 1

You giggle as you watch Phoebe and Cece run around the room, "breathing fire" and roaring like a dragon.

"I'm going to eat you!" Cece roars in a deep voice, right into your face.

You fake scream, "No! Please! Don't eat me! I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" Phoebe asks in her own 'dragon' voice. When you nod, she goes, "Then you have to give me your kingdom so I can be a dragon king!"

"No! I can't let you have my kingdom!"

"Then we're going to eat you!" Phoebe and Cece creep towards you until Lord Kent "pops" up from behind a chaise lounge with a wooden sword in hand, "I'm here to save you, princess!" he explains in his raspy voice.

There's a small crown on his head and he looks a bit ridiculous to you, so you snicker a bit. He points his sword in your direction, "Shut it."

You roll your lips inward to hold back your laughter.

Cece and Phoebe turn to him, "Who are you?"

"I'm the prince..knight come to rescue the princess from you dragons," he points the wooden weapon towards the two little girls before him.

"You'll have to kill us to save her then!" Cece explains.

Lord Kent cocks a brow at your young cousin then looks at you. You give him a shrug. Sensing his hesitation, Phoebe speaks up, "You have to kill us, Uncle Roy. Stab us right through the heart!"

He looks at his niece in disbelief, "I'm not stabbing you, you odd girl."

She rolls her eyes, "It's just pretend, Uncle Roy. You're not going to hurt me. Besides, you can't save Princess Y/N if you don't kill us. Then she'll be dragon food!"

Cece and Phoebe bare their teeth and their "claws".

Lord Kent sighs and gently pokes Phoebe in the chest, "Stab." She exaggeratedly falls to the floor, her tongue sticking out to signal her death. He then pokes Cece in the chest, "Stab." She, too, exaggerates her death, similar to her new friend.

"My hero," you chuckle.

Lord Kent walks over the "dead bodies" of your cousin and his niece. He holds out his hand, "I've saved you, Princess Y/N," he says unenthusiastically as he pulls you from your place on the floor.

You snicker, "Thank you, Sir Kent. You're so very brave."

Cece opens her eyes, lifting her head up, "You have to kiss her too!"

"No, I don't," the viscount quickly says.

"Yes, you do! It's how all the fairy tales end!"

"No, they don't."

Phoebe's eyes open and she adds, "Yes, they do, Uncle Roy. Remember the one you told me last night? That ended with a kiss and they lived happily ever after! Do you not want a happily ever after?"

The viscount lets out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Phoebe-"

"Just do it," you say, making him turn back to you, "It'll be quick."

"Fine," he grits, appearing as though kissing you is the worse thing in the world. You can't help but feel a bit saddened by this.

He faces his entire body towards you. He steps closer to you and begins leaning in, closer and closer until his lips hover over yours. Just as he's about to kiss you, the door to the room opens,

"Alright, my love, time- oh," It's Lord Kent's sister, "What's going on?" she looks at Lord Kent with a questioning gaze, eyes fluttering between you and him.

Lord Kent steps back, "Nothing."

"Mummy, can I please stay longer?" Phoebe begs as she scrambles from the floor.

"Unfortunately not, my love. We have to get ready for the ball tonight."

Phoebe grimaces, "Another ball?"

"Yes, another ball," Clara smooths down some of Phoebe's hair and then looks up to Lord Kent, "Brother, shall we or-"

"No. Let's go," he rushes from your side, walking past his sister and niece.

Clara clears her throat, "I apologize for him."

You shake your head, "No. It's alright," you curtsey, "Thank you for allowing Phoebe to spend time with Cecelia. They had a lot of fun."

"I'm sure we can plan another play date for them soon, Lady Y/N," she gives a small bow, "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You as well."

You and Cece watch the Kents walk down the stairs and head out the door. Once gone, Cece looks up at you with a pout, "You didn't kiss. That means there's no happily ever after."

"It's alright, Cece. Some people just don't get a happily ever after."

___________________________

At the Ruthford Ball, Clara and Lord Kent walk around the ballroom, side by side.

"So...shall we discuss what I interrupted earlier?"

"It was nothing," Lord Kent grunts to his sister.

"Didn't look like it was nothing. Looked to me like you two were about to kiss," she says with a playful smirk.

"It's just pretend. We were pretending for the girls," Lord Kent explains, refusing to give his sister any satisfaction.

"You know, I hear that Lady Y/N is a very respectable woman, albeit she's not too fond marriage. Guess that's the one thing you two have in common."

Lord Kent sighs, stopping to face his sister, "What are you getting on about?"

She shrugs, "I think you two would be a fine match."

He scoffs, "She hates me."

Clara smirks, "Didn't seem like she hated you earlier. She looked very fixated on you."

"It was pretend," he grumbles, walking away from his sister, in desperate need of a drink.

As a server passes with a tray of flutes of champagne, he immediately grabs one. However, he isn't paying attention to where he was going and he bumps into someone...you.

The liquid spills over you, the glass shattering to the floor.

Nearby onlookers watch with curious gazes as you gasp and look up to see the perpetrator.

"Is this revenge?"

"Your new dress!" your mother cries out with a pout.

"Mama, it's fine."

"I can get you a new one." Lord Kent speaks up, causing your mother to realize he was the reason your new dress is soiled.

"O-oh. Lord Kent, I see the roles are reversed now."

"So it seems," he does his best to give your mother a polite look, "I can have the modiste make a new one for you."

You wave him off, "It's alr-"

"That would be lovely, Lord Kent. Thank you! My daughter very much appreciates it!" your mother speaks for you with such enthusiasm. She gives you a look that makes you speak up, "Yes. I'd very much appreciate it, Lord Kent," you give a slight bow and inwardly grimace. You hate that your mother makes you do this.

Lord Kent speaks up, "Lady Y/N, do you care much for the dress?"

"Pardon?" you look at him confused.

"Are you upset that I seemed to have ruined your new dress? And answer honestly, please."

You look down at your dress. You don't see any tears or stains. Just some slight dampness, "I wouldn't say you've ruined it, Lord Kent. I honestly don't believe I'd need a new dress since I won't be replacing this one."

"Very well. I apologize for not paying attention," he gives a bow.

"Thank you, my Lord. I apologize as well," you curtsey. You mouth, 'Thank you' to him and he nods.

"Aaaww your dress!" Keeley appears beside you with a pout.

You chuckle, "It's fine, Keeley."

"But you just got this one."

"It was an accident."

"Come on, let's try to dry it off," she takes your hand and guides you away from Lord Kent and your mother.

____________

Jamie, the nice friend that he is, put himself down on your dance card so he can be a buffer for the various men written on your card.

"Having fun?" he asks you with a knowing smirk.

You scowl, "I am not and you know it," you sigh, "But what about you?"

"Oh I'm having loads of fun," he gives you a look and it makes your eyes narrow at him.

"What's that look for?"

"Well, don't know if you've noticed, but a certain viscount has been looking at you a lot tonight."

"Who?"

"Lord Grumpy Face. When I turn us, just look over my shoulder and you'll see," Jamie turns you 180 degrees and you're facing the other direction. You look over his shoulder and your eyes meet Lord Kent's. His gaze doesn't waver, even when Jamie spins you and lifts you in the air for a moment.

You snort, "He must be admiring his handy work considering what he did with my dress."

"You keep telling yourself that, darling."

"He hates me."

"Don't seem that way," Jamie spins you around and the song ends. You all clap for the orchestra and Jamie leads you towards the beverage table where Keeley is waiting and watching.

"Have you noticed that Lord Kent keeps watching you?" she asks and Jamie smiles.

"I said the same thing."

"So I'm not hallucinating then?"

Jamie shakes his head at his love, "Not at all. Looks like Lord Grumpy Gramps has a soft spot for our new debutante."

You roll your eyes and groan, "Both of you, stop it. You're acting childish." You take Keeley's glass and down its contents. You hand it back to her and say, "I'm stepping out for air."

You make your way outside to the Ruthford's gardens. You like coming out here, remembering how you and Amelia Ruthford used to play hide and seek in the hedge maze.

You sit at the fountain near its entrance. You let the breeze cool off your body. You're playing with a loose thread on your glove when you here someone clearing their throat.

"Lord Kent," you immediately stand to curtsey.

He shakes his head, "Please, stop that. I hate it when people do that."

You smirk, "Good. Because I hate doing it," you plop back onto the fountain's edge.

Lord Kent slowly approaches the fountain, sitting a small distance from you, "Are you alright?"

"I'm just tired of all of this and I haven't even been out to society for long. I'm tired of the dancing, the socialization. I just want to be home, reading, or spending time with Cece. I want to be my own person, not some...cow being offered up to the highest bidder." You chuckle, shaking your head, "I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't be. I like this side of you. I don't hear many women talking so freely and openly when they're around me. It's...nice."

You feel nervous. Being in Lord Kent's proximity again after what transpired earlier.

"I didn't expect you to be here," he says, filling the silence.

You sigh, "I didn't expect to be here either, but mother forced me to go. She says I need to take every opportunity to find a potential suitor."

"Any prospects?"

"None, just like the other balls before. Not that I'm actually paying attention to any of them." you get to your feet and move towards the hedge maze, "Have you been in one of these, Lord Kent?"

He follows you, stopping at the entrance and looking up at the high grown hedges, "Can't say I have. You?"

"Only this one. Plenty of times. I'd come here a lot to play with the Ruthford's daughter, Amelia. At first, it took forever for us to solve it. Lord Ruthford would have to come find us. But the more we did it, the more we remembered."

"Do you still remember?"

You look at him with a mischievous grin, "Guess we'll find out." You giggle as you rush inside, taking sharp turns.

"Y/N! Wait!" Lord Kent cries out for you as he heads into the maze. Already, he's lost you.

"This is stupid!"

"No it's not! It's fun! Ever had fun, Lord Kent? Or are you like all the boring Lords here?" your voice is near but not as close as Lord Kent thinks.

"Is there a short cut to this?" Lord Kent asks.

"Not at all. Lord Ruthford loves puzzles and hates cheaters."

"Fuck," Lord Kent curses and you tap him on the shoulder, startling him, "Fuck!"

You snicker, "Not very appropriate language to have around a lady, my Lord."

He looks at you completely unamused, "Get me out of here."

You roll your eyes, "Fine, You have no sense of adventure or fun, do you?"

"None."

"I feel sorry for you future wife," you mutter, leading Lord Kent with very turns, loops and eventually to the exit.

At the exit, you find Keeley and Jamie waiting for you with matching smirks.

"Something wrong?"

"Oh nothing. Have fun?"

"Pft, tried to. Lord Grumpy Gramps couldn't make it very far. Demanded lead him to the exit," you go over and loop your arm with Keeley's, "Is my mother looking for me?"

"No, but Mason Stanton is. He's next on your dance card, I believe?"

You groan, "Can I feign illness?"

"You did that the last time," Jamie says.

You look back around towards the entrance of the haze, spotting the fountain, "I got it." You pick up your skirt and starting running towards the fountains.

"What? What's happening?!" Keeley cries out after you.

You stop at the fountain's edge, looking over your shoulder to your friends and Lord Kent.

"Oh now your dress will definitely be ruined!"

You sit at the edge and squeal when you lean back, falling into the fountain.

You friends and Lord Kent rush over to you, watching as you make a big scene, "Oh no! My dress is ruined and I'm all wet! My night is over!"

Keeley was shaking her head while Jamie tried to stifle his laughter. Lord Kent merely stood there, a smirk on his face.

"You're so...odd," he says as he walks over to the fountain's edge, lending a hand out.

You take it and with a grin, pull him in.

Keeley gasps and Jamie bursts out into laughter.

"Y/N!" your mother comes running down from the manor, "What is going on?!" she's fuming.

You put on your best distressed expression, "I was admiring the fountain and I tripped over my skirt and fell in. Lord Kent tried helping me out but fell in as well."

Your mother looks at Keeley and Jamie, who nod in agreement, doing their best to hide their grins.

Your mother sighs, "Well hurry out of there. Don't want you to catch your death."

Lord Kent exits first, drenched to the bone. You try not to pay attention to how his clothes cling to him, showing off his toned body. He holds his hand out as you climb out. You thank him and waddle over to your mother, "We should probably go home now."

"Yes, we should. Come on," she wraps her arms around you, leading you back towards the manor.

Lord Kent, Keeley, and Jamie all remain right where you left them. Jamie pats Lord Kent on the shoulder, "Yeah, I don't think you could handle her, Lord Gramps."

Lord Kent glares at Jamie, growling, "Don't touch me." His attention turning back to your retreating figure.