#bread and roses press

[adamgnade]

This excerpt is from my book After Tonight, Everything Will Be Different.

[skelly-words]

sneaking into a witch’s garden to steal something and her vines fertilize you 😩😩 (this sentence is crazy bruh)

wait til she finds you in the morning and fucks you with her huge dick

NSFW, Minors DNI (18+ obv)

TAGS: non-con monsterfucking, vines/plants, aphrodisiac, ovi, all holes, futanari, this is so cursed lol, also a period piece ig

WC- 1.1k

You're hungry. The kind of starving that makes you ask the grocers at the market for vegetable scraps, lift bread loaves out of unattended baskets, and hop the ten-foot cobblestone wall into your neighbor's garden.

You feel like an idiot as soon as you make it into the witch's yard. Nobody ever got away with stealing from her, yet here you were, shivering in the frigid winter twilight, inching across her frosted lawn to the brightly lit greenhouse.

The heavy glass doors barely creak and you're almost sucked in by the humid air. The empty gurgle in your gut makes you press on through the rows of plants, looking for something edible or incredible to make off with.

You search the entire greenhouse before making the mistake of sniffing at her rose bushes. They smell sweet, much less harsh and organic than a normal rose. You sniff deeply into the blossom as it pushed against your nose.

Your mind is gone after that first inhale. The careful brambles shred your clothes, letting the rags fall to the dirt while they carefully wrap around your body. The rosebuds drip with a sweet syrup. It leaks into the seam of your mouth, making you lick out to taste it, to suckle the nectar from the buds until you're drowning in it.

You've been completely pulled into the rose bushes now, so tangled in the tenacious little plant that you couldn't get out if you wanted to. You drink down whatever the bud gives you, even as the sticky liquid makes you gasp and choke. More of the buds press to the corner of your mouth, smearing the substance across your jaw and neck, some drop lower, opening their petals to suckle on your swollen nipples. You haven't noticed how heavy your breasts have gotten. The tight binding of the vines had to adjust so the hungry rosebuds could suck on your fat tits.

Milk spurts out of you as the vines squish and squeeze at your heaving chest. You can hardly breathe. Something is in the syrup, making your mind numb and skin tingle as it smears on your sensitive body. Globs of sticky nectar drip onto your clit so it twitches and throbs as a greedy bud latches onto it. Your hips buck, bumping into a bundle of slender stamen that prod at your entrance. They move with your hips to work your pussy open. The tendrils twist their way into your tight hole and slowly expand. The sucker on your clit helps your muscles relax, but the demanding stretch is too much.

You groan loudly, parting your lips to pant as the fibers pry your cunt apart. The blossom at your lips forces its way deeper, sliding over your tongue, dripping down your throat, snaking its way so deep you can't taste the sweetness of the syrup its pumping into you.

Suddenly, the stretch isn't so bad anymore and you moan, sounding more like a gurgle around the obstruction. You can feel them exploring your insides. The stamen probe at your cervix, getting as deep as possible before turning you into a proper seed bed. It slowly starts to pump you full of spawn, feeding eggs into your cunt with thick spurts of the rose nectar. Your eyes roll back as the band in your belly tightens. It snaps as the effects of the drugged plant take over. Your pussy tingles, walls clenching, squishing the eggs and juice in as you cum. Pathetic dribbles leak down your thighs as the mess sprays out of you.

Streams of milk lead from your nipples, pooling beneath each breast. You're leaking too fast for the rosebuds to suckle up. Time seems to move slow, or fast. You don't really know, counting the eggs being shoved into you instead of the minutes. At least your tummy is full now. You've been well fed by the vine lodged in your throat.

The witch finds you in the morning when she comes to garden. You're so tucked away in the vines, she would've missed you if not for the sound. You're squishing and sloshing from being so stuffed full by her naughty flora.

"Looks like my rosehips like you, they've made you into a perfect seedbed. It's kinda kismet because I've been meaning to propagate them." She grabs your hips, wrenching you halfway out of the bush to look at what the plant has done to you. "The rosehips only care about breeding, so it's left your cute little ass all empty."

Her finger swirls through your drooling folds before dipping lower and sinking into your butt. You're so tight, already squirming around one little finger. She palms her cock with her other hand as she fucks you open on her fingers. Slick drips down from your cunt to help lube up your hole. You watch her black skirt start to lift as she gets harder. Her dripping tip starts to poke from the beneath the hem as she grows. Thick semen runs from the blunt head of her horsecock. She lets it land in your cunt, left gaping by the twenty six eggs the rose has planted in you.

The witch only puts two fingers in your ass before forcing her dick in. She grunts and huffs, grip on your hips only growing tighter with each stunted thrust. You're strung out on the aphrodisiac being fed down your throat. You've been drinking it all night long, more full than you've been in months. The fat cockhead catches on your rim each time she pulls back, you clench and twitch around her, squeezing the life out of her dick.

You take it all, sucking all thirteen inches into your puckering hole. She rolls her hips against yours, mesmerized by how your your cunt twitches and tightens as she fucks you. She's so big and pent up, so it doesn’t take long for her to release, cumming deep in your guts as her balls pump her sticky spunk into you.

You hardly control your body anymore, murmuring weakly as you squirt on the witch's dick. She keeps a punishing pace and you love it. The rough drag of her throbbing cock makes your muscles tense and squeeze. She tugs the bud away from your left tit, leaning down to suck on your abused nipple.

"Your milk's sweet. Taste it." She suckles from you again and spits it between your lips, already left open by the vine, but you can taste the milk as it hits your tongue. It's so good, you're almost jealous she gets to drink it. She mouths at your breast, giving kitten licks to the liquid beading on your cute brown nubs.

You’re making such a mess of cum on her stomach as she leans over you. The overstimulation is hard to register from how hazy your mind’s become. Your clit pulses from being sucked on all night, spasming again whenever she has you at the fullest. She has your ass so stuffed it makes your eyes cross and the stamen are trying to push another egg in you. Every orgasm wrecks you, cresting tears over your cheeks as she keeps her lips pressed around your chest to nurse from you.

Not many people are stupid enough to steal from the witch anymore, and her cock gets so painfully hard when she doesn’t have a slut like you to take care of it. She takes out all of her frustration on your poor virgin ass. You’re so ruined now, only able to cum and spread your legs more because that’s all the aphrodisiac allows you to think about.

you’ve lost count of how many eggs are in your sticky cunt, always being given more and more as you adjust. Your butt is stretched so much by her swollen length that she’s trained you to take her whenever she wants. Your rim easily swallows up her fingers, tongue, or dick, sometimes dildos, whatever she felt like watching you squirt on.

The witch’s cock keeps you plugged up every morning. It's the only routine you can seem to keep track of these days. Oh well, who knows why you came here in the first place anyway?

A/n- i wrote this in one sitting (it’s noticeable)

new tentacle au idea, thoughts?

[silken-moonlight]

1000 Special: Vamp!Emporer and his new concubine

A/N: It's official, to celebrate my 1,000 followers, this will become a mini-series!

The sun rose in the morning sky, its light slipping through the heavy curtains of the emperor's bedroom. A ray of morning sun kissed the exposed skin of your back, warming it gently. You found yourself in the arms of the emperor, your head on his chest and your legs entangled with his. His skin was cool beneath yours, and you enjoyed the feeling of it. You wanted to place kisses on his cool skin, but you didn't dare to move, lest you destroy this moment. So you stayed like this, letting out a sigh and relaxing back into his touch.

A chuckle left his lips as he looked down at you. You looked up at him, meeting his deep red eyes. His gaze was almost gentle. "Good morning, little love," he purred, his eyes traveling down your body as he smiled, admiring the bites he'd left on your neck and shoulders. "Good morning, Your Majesty," you replied, your voice still carrying a hint of hoarseness. Something flickered in his eyes when you said that. He sat up, releasing you. The sun illuminated his dark hair, dancing over his face as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I will go now to get dressed and ready for the day,” he informed you as he got up. “I will leave as soon as you wish.” You immediately answered, sitting up. Already you could feel your sore legs and sensitive private parts. The bite marks began to itch and heal as well. He tutted at your answer. “Have you learned nothing from yesterday?” You blushed and kept silent. He chuckled. You saw him reach out to you, but he stopped himself and got out of bed instead. “I will send someone to take care of you today,” he continued, putting on a dressing gown to leave the room. “I will not return until late this evening,” were his next words to you, not that you really knew what you were supposed to do with that information.

“You will wait for me when I return.” His voice was dark and stern, the same voice that chose you the day you had been added to the harem. The door slammed shut behind him, and you lay back, thinking about last night with a blush on your face. Suddenly, the door opened, and two servants entered. You sat up, clutching the blanket.

“We're here to take care of you.” One said, the woman of the two said. “We will bring something you can wear for now and bring you breakfast.” The man informed her. “Then we will go to the bathhouse.” The woman added. You simply nodded, just going along with it. In a matter of minutes they brought you a beautiful dressing gown to put over your naked form, Bringing you a lush breakfast to enjoy in bed. You thanked them, eating it up since you realized how hungry and thirsty you were. Your breakfast consisted of fruits, sweet bread, and various kinds of jams. You were surprised to taste how much better the things tasted than what you usually ate.

When you were finished, they brought you to the bathhouse. They stripped you and ordered you to sit down in a bathtub. The woman began to wash your hair and massage your scalp while the man began to do a manicure on your hands. They took their time. Masks were put in your hair and on your face. Your skin was dry-brushed, peeled, and washed with different sponges. You offered to help, but they stopped you, telling you that you were supposed to enjoy it and not do it yourself. When the water lost its heat, they helped you out, drying you with the softest towels and putting almond oil on your skin. They put rose oil behind your ears, oil on your nails and fingers, and lip balm on your lips, tinting it with the color of pressed rose petals. You had never felt this clean and pampered.

It didn't stop there, you were brought back to the emperor's bedroom. There you ate a wonderful small lunch. Only the finest Red meat and well cooked vegetables were given to you. You felt so privileged, trying not to enjoy it too much. A dress Was laid out for you. It was white with golden Details.

And then you waited for him. Hours passed, but finally the door opened and he stepped in. He didn't even close the door and looked down at you. He smiled, and you swallowed hard, waiting for him to speak. "Have they taken care of you?" he asked, and you nodded. He took a step inside, shutting the door.

"I have rules for you to follow. Will you do that for me?" He asked as he took in the sight of you: Kneeling on his bed in a white, flowy dress...it made him want to kiss you. Maybe he should have a painter paint you like this so he could have this image forever.

You nodded, earning a smile. "In private you will Adress me by my name. When we have sex You will address me as 'master.'" You listened and nodded. He came closer. "If you talk to anybody about anything that happens between us, you will lose any privilege you had." Again, you nodded. With that he closed the diffrence and kissed you. You melted into his touch.

"By the holy night...I need someone like you." He whispered and kissed you again as if his life depended on it. "My beloved, my own..." he continued, making you gasp as you realized what he had just said...

Divider credit: @thecutestgrotto

Taglist: @blushycadaver

[iluvies]

IT’S ONLY A LITTLE CRUSH!

ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, megumi, yuji, sukuna, choso, yuta, higuruma

summary: he could name all of the moments you’d caused his cheeks to turn pink just from the way you’d smile at him. . . or was it because you’d catch his eyes lingering on you a little too long? whatever it is, they are completely smitten with you! scenarios with the jjk boys who are completely enamored and obsessed with you.

warnings: gn!reader, fluff, suggestive content in toji n sukuna’s, reader is called pretty a lot, sukuna calls reader brat

GOJO SATORU

୨୧ . his eyes followed your movement, locked on the way you smiled and laughed at his jokes. although satoru soon frowned slightly when your hands came up to try and cover your face. “why are you hiding your face?” he’d asked, reaching over to gently tug your hands away much to your displeasure, “you look cute when you laugh.” satoru was almost offended. why would you want to hide your face from him? especially when he was admiring the strands of hair that’d fall in front of your eyes with each warm smile and giggle. “i love that flustered smile of yours.” if only you could see the way he was internally kicking his feet.

୨୧ . “satoru, you’re spilling water everywhere.” your voice interrupted his thoughts as he looked down at the spilled water all over the table. his face turned a deep red color and he smiled sheepishly at you, mustering what was left of his confidence to make a joke—which really wasn’t a joke—to hide the fact he was embarrassed, “i must’ve gotten lost in your eyes.”

୨୧ . both satoru and an exhausted looking nanami sat together on a small bench by nanami’s workplace. unfortunately, the tired man had gotten caught up in satoru’s rambling about you; how perfect you are, how he couldn’t possibly be in love with someone so utterly perfect, and how he just wanted to kiss your pretty lips until you needed to breathe. “just tell them how you feel.” nanami said, taking a bite of the small bread in his hands. “i can’t. i’ll embarrass myself again. . .” satoru sighed, causing nanami to shake his head a little. unbeknownst to satoru, you had been rambling to nanami about your growing affection for him as well.

GETO SUGURU

୨୧ . you had sought company from suguru while crying your eyes out after a rough day. he let you inside and wrapped his arms around you, letting his hands fall to your hips and trace lazy circles with his fingers. “it’s okay, you’re okay.” suguru murmured, soaking in the warmth of your soft skin. “i’m sorry, suguru…” you whispered quietly, gripping the back of his shirt. he squeezed your hips gently when he heard the sound of your voice. why would you apologize for needing comfort? he would gladly comfort you if it meant holding you in arms each and every time.

୨୧ . suguru draped the blanket over your body, watching as your chest rose and fell with every breath. in his eyes, you looked peaceful, beautiful even. “i don’t want to be alone tonight.” you murmured, peeking your eyes open to find his. he offered a smile and tenderly tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. “you won’t be. i’ll be here for as long as you need,” suguru promised, his thumb rubbing your shoulder in an attempt to reassure you, “don’t worry that sweet head of yours, okay? i’m not going anywhere.”

୨୧ . the nights were peaceful when the two of you walked alone together. lingering glances at each other and the soft “sorry”s that’d leave his mouth when he’d accidentally brushed his hand against yours. “you look really pretty, y’know that?” suguru said, a small smile gracing his lips as he looked at you from the corner of his eye, “so pretty.” with a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head away shyly. feeling him press a hand to your lower back, you peeked at him. “suguru. . .” you managed to breath out, before you noticed the sly smirk beginning to present itself on his face. oh, he knew what he was doing.

NANAMI KENTO

୨୧ . he stood in front of your door holding a small box of custard-filled hot cakes, eyes drifting to his watch with each passing second. he texted you ten—no, twenty minutes ago letting you know that he would be coming over. he was sure you got his message. before he could check his phone, you open the door with an apologetic grin. “sorry for keeping you waiting, kento. i was doing some touch-ups to make sure i looked—“ “you always look good.” you blink a few times in confusion. “huh?” nanami went stiff, a subtle blush on his cheeks. he had assumed you were going to say “good”, but judging from the look on your face he had been mistaken. this thought was immediately lost when you laughed, and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “you always look good too.”

୨୧ . nanami’s coat hung loosely on your shoulders, his cologne immediately filling your senses. “you’ll catch a cold.” he said firmly, leaving no room for arguments. you hadn’t expected it to be so cold that night, leaving you in clothing that didn’t protect you from the freezing breeze. fortunately for you, you were walking with a gentleman. “thank you, nanami.” you offered him a kind smile, in which caused him to turn his head to the side, hiding the flustered expression on his face. “i just don’t want you complaining about being sick tomorrow.”

୨୧ . “stay still for me, sweetheart.” his calloused hand wrapped around your ankle, gently yet firmly pulling it closer to him as his fingers found the laces on your shoes. his eyebrows were furrowed whilst he tied your shoelaces, completely focused on making sure they were tied properly. “it’s not too tight?” nanami asked, glancing up at you. you shook your head, cheeks burning red. seeing how you reacted so shyly, he chuckled lightly and patted your knee before standing up. the things this man would do for you.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

୨୧ . the both of you had an argument yesterday, resulting in you pettily giving toji the silent treatment. what you didn’t expect was to see the man at your door holding a bouquet of flowers. watching you stand there awkwardly, he rolled his eyes and held out the flowers, smiling sarcastically at you, “i didn’t buy these flowers for myself, sweetheart.” hesitantly grabbing the bouquet, you let out a sneeze. “i’m allergic to flowers.” “just take them.” you pouted slightly and feigned an exasperated expression, “i don’t know if i can forgive you. . .” your voice trailed, causing him to sigh and glance away, resting his arm against the door frame. “i’m sorry.” toji grunted with an annoyed look to his face. if only you knew how hard his heart was thumping in his chest.

୨୧ . toji stood behind you as you prepared some ingredients for your dinner date, his hands resting on the counter on either side of you and his chest pressed up against your back. you could feel his hot, shaky breath on your neck, lips dangerously close to pressing wet kisses to it. he was impatient and so desperate to feel you—your bare skin—touching his. “are you almost done?” his voice was low and gravelly. “almost.” you answered breathlessly, heat beginning to coil in your stomach and bit lower. “that’s good enough for me,” toji’s hands grabbed your hips, turning you around and sitting you on the counter, “i’ll be nice and take my time tonight.” a lie of course.

୨୧ . “what are you doing?” you let out a small yelp, practically jumping out of your skin. “toji! don’t sneak up on me like that! make some noise at least.” you had been so caught up in trying to scare him you hadn’t noticed him walk up from behind you. “hypocritical, much?” he muttered with a small smirk, raising his eyebrows at you as he stared at you knowingly. as you came up with different excuses, his eyes watched your lips and how they would move with each word spilling out of your mouth. your lips would feel so soft against his, your hands would push and pull at his hair whilst his kisses linger on your— toji knew he was long gone.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

୨୧ . you and megumi were sitting in a small restaurant awkwardly waiting for yuji and nobara to show up. “did you want to get some drinks?” you asked quietly, fidgeting with your fingers as you barely glanced up at him. his cheeks had a faint blush that increased gradually, his eyes shifting to your face before quickly looking elsewhere. “we should.” megumi mumbled, reaching for the menu on the table, accidentally brushing his hand against yours as you had gone to reach for it too. “sorry.” he retracted his hand almost immediately, his face burning in embarrassment. “it’s fine.” you reassured, giving him a small smile, albeit nervously. your knee bumped into his, but instead of pulling away like he did when your hands touched, he stayed still. “maybe we could share a milkshake? to save money.” real smooth, megumi.

୨୧ . a small whine fell from your mouth as you failed to knock the last pin down, “i really wanted that panda plushy.” megumi’s eyes narrowed at the pin that stood standing. oh, he was going to win you that panda. you let out a dejected sigh and began walking away slowly, not noticing the boy now determined to stay at the stall until he wins you the panda plushy you wanted. “maybe next time, huh, megumi. . . megumi?” your head turned so that you were looking over your shoulder, just to find him holding four different stuffed toys and most importantly, the panda one.

୨୧ . your hands patted down the snow, trying to make the spherical shape of the snowman’s head. with a confident smile, you took a step back and showed megumi your wonky looking snowman. “how does it look? i put a lot of effort into it.” he blinked a few times, trying to process what he was seeing. “it looks good.” megumi replied rather stiffly. he couldn’t help but melt a little at your expression, a little lie wouldn’t hurt, especially if he got to see you smile because of it. “i knew you’d like it! it looks like you, doesn’t it? all cute and grumpy looking—“ “i do not look cute or grumpy.” “i can see you blushing.” “i’m just cold.”

YUJI ITADORI

୨୧ . “let’s watch that one!” you looked over to where yuji was pointing on his phone, finding the movie he has been talking about nonstop. not to mention, the movie that you’d already watched before. “no.” his jaw dropped, hands flying to grab your shoulders. “please? just this once?” yuji gave you his best puppy eyes before you reluctantly nodded with a sigh. “one more time.” you said, giving him a playfully stern look. he smiled widely and hugged you tightly, swaying you side to side, “so this is like a date then?”

୨୧ . yuji’s hand steered the wheel, eyes glued to the racing game displayed on the screen. “i’ll win for sure!” you both made a bet that the loser had to buy a game for the winner, and he was sure to win. unfortunately though, you surpassed him in the last the second, driving the car across the finish line. “that’s not fair, you distracted me!” by distracted, yuji meant he couldn’t stop looking over at you when he noticed your concentration and focus in winning the bet. it made a light blush dust over his cheeks and his brain to fog up with thoughts of you.

୨୧ . his hand reached over to steal a bit of your food. “i saw that.” he looked away with a cheeky grin, shrugging his shoulders a little while he quickly brought the food to his mouth. “no you didn’t.” yuji said, feigning innocence. “i’m watching you right now, idiot.” a small chuckle forced its way out of his mouth before he began laughing loudly, causing you to laugh along with him. yuji felt comfortable around you, despite all the times he would become flustered when you’d catch him doing dumb things. he hopes you feel the same too.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

୨୧ . he thought it was cute how you would hesitantly reach for him. sukuna was a large man, undoubtedly towering over everyone that came across him. but you were different. all these little things you would do from your expressions to your actions, it had his cold heart defrosting piece by piece. “why are you looking at me like that, brat?” his voice held clear amusement, eyes basically glaring at you. because of your obvious height difference, he purposely placed things out of your reach, finding enjoyment in you struggling to grab the items you needed. “you need to use your words.” sukuna was going to give you those things either way, he just couldn’t resist making you end for it first. but you’re his favorite human after all, he couldn’t upset you now when he still had so much more waiting for you.

୨୧ . even the king of curses needed breaks, especially with your hands gliding up and down his back with a cloth. “do you think i’m made out of glass?” sukuna grunted, a hint for you to apply more pressure to your scrubbing. his arms rested on either side of the tub, peering down at you through the corner of his eyes while you focused on scrubbing his back. not that you would notice his growing soft spot for you, but his words weren’t as hostile when directed at you. “you make yourself useful. perhaps you can use your hands elsewhere.” he muttered slyly, his lips curling up into a smirk.

୨୧ . “you think i want this pathetic thing?” you had taken the time to make him a bracelet despite the fact that you knew he would dismiss your efforts, you were slightly disappointed and taken aback by his tone. “i just thought. . . i’m sorry.” you bit your lower lip and pulled your hand back before he grabbed your wrist, making sure to stop you from moving away. sukuna didn’t feel bad. at least that’s what he told himself. “i never said i didn’t want the bracelet, brat.” this was out of pity, not because he wanted to see you give him that warm smile of yours or that pretty blush on your cheeks.

CHOSO KAMO

୨୧ . “this feels nice.” your hands combed through his hair gently, thighs on either side of his head. “does it?” you asked. choso hummed and kneaded at your calves absentmindedly, eyes closed while he just enjoyed the feeling of your touch. you were so wonderful, and sweet, and perfect, and everything he’s absolutely wanted in life. if only he could spend all of his time laid back on your couch, head squished between the plush of your thighs, with your hands messaging his scalp. notice how it’s all ‘your’? he can’t picture anyone else in your place. especially that place in his heart he’s reserved solely for you.

୨୧ . this man is no doubt completely lovesick with you. the way you handle yuji with such care and kindness. . . it has his heart aching. “thank you.” choso said, looking over at you. he thought everything about you was absolutely beautiful, from the sweetness in your gestures all the way down to the heartfelt words spilling from your lips. “for?” you asked, looking at him with a tiny chuckle. “looking out for my brother.” his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh and how you shake your head. “you don’t need to thank me for that, choso.” he loved you so much it just wasn’t fair how you weren’t his yet.

୨୧ . although he came off as blunt and emotionally detached to most, the man sobbing in your arms definitely didn’t come off as that. choso’s tears stained the front of your shirt, the one you reassured him not to feel bad for getting wet. “my brothers. . .” he didn’t need to finish that sentence and you understood. you always did. the deep love for his brothers who he had no way of showing it to anymore broke his heart. “deep breaths, everything’s okay. you’re allowed to cry.” your embrace was his favorite, and will always be.

YUTA OKKOTSU

୨୧ . he had his head propped up with his palm as his elbow rests on the desk, his eyes following and admiring your every moment. you were so pretty. . . the strands of hair that fell in front of your eyes while you leaned over the notebook to write notes or do small sketches. yuta was jealous of the others who could openly talk to you. he could barely talk to you without stuttering or turning a bright red, his face immediately turning down towards the ground. just like now. “did you want to hang out after school?” you asked curiously, “we could get some ice-cream?” he nodded, still avoiding your eyes. “as in a-a. . . date? y-yeah, that would be nice. if you don’t mind!” yuta’s heart was racing, hands sweating profusely. he wasn’t dreaming was he? “it��s a date.” please, kiss him now.

୨୧ . the way you stood over him, staring down at his tired form on the ground made his skin blaze. “it’s like you’re letting me win. do you like losing, yuta?” by you? he would gladly let you win. even if he probably didn’t have a chance of winning in the first place. “i-it’s not like that! i just—“ his voice immediately shrunk into nothingness, lips pressing together when he watched you lean down. yuta prepared himself for what you were going to say, the serious expression on your face making his heart sink a little. your lips parted slightly before he tried spluttering an apology, making you giggle at him amusedly. “i was only teasing.” you made him feel so lightheaded.

୨୧ . yuta never thought the day would come when you would fall asleep and rest your head against his shoulder. not that he was hoping it would happen—a lie. you let out the most quiet breaths, lips parted just enough to show a gap where your upper and low lip met. the train wasn’t too crowded at this time, thankfully for the both of you. should he wake you up soon? “i’m sorry, yuta. . .” your voice pulled him out of whatever thoughts he was having about you, “i didn’t mean to fall asleep.” a gentle smile graced his face, his hand hesitantly pushing your head back to his shoulder. “it’s okay, i don’t mind as long as it’s you.”

HIGURUMA HIROMI

୨୧ . a low groan reverberated from his chest, eyes rolling back. “thank you.” he murmured, the tension in his shoulders easing until he felt like putty in your hands. “you’re always so stressed, hiromi,” you sighed, continuing to massage his shoulder blades, “i wish you would take some time just for yourself.” before he could stop himself, the words spilled off his tongue, “why would i need to take some time just for myself when i can spend it with you?”

୨୧ . your perfume was one of the many things he loved to be welcomed with when he stepped into his office. no— it was the only thing he loved to be welcomed with when he stepped into the dull room he called an office. you always smiled at him when he looked in your direction, offered him coffee when he’d let out a yawn, and stole glances at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. he was utterly infatuated with you. “are you alright?” higuruma’s head turned in your direction. “sorry?” you tilt your head with slightly furrowed eyebrows. “are you feeling okay?” he paused for a moment before replying with a muttered response, “just thinking.” “about?” higuruma swallowed thickly, his gaze finding the files on his desk. how could you expect him to respond when you looked at him like that? “nothing of importance. . . to you.”

୨୧ . this man enjoyed having petty arguments with you, watching you either miss the joke he made or get upset at him for pointing something out. the way your eyebrows would furrow and your lips would form a tiny pout when he would bring up embarrassing moments of you. don’t think he did this to mean, he just loved getting a reaction out of you. “the office wasn’t built for you to slack off.” he said, giving you a sideway glance as a smirk grew on his face. “i’m not slacking off.“ you scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him. higuruma simply shrugged and chuckled slightly, “just kidding.”

© ILUVIES do not copy, modify, or repost!

[mayajadewrites]

birthday sex

˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆synopsis˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆: you're kento nanami's wife, and today just so happens to be his birthday.

warnings: creampie, mentions of babies, unprotected sex, oral fem! receiving , face riding

happy birthday to nanami kento, i hope you're relaxing on a beach in malaysia <3

"And, done." You lit the last candle on the table before looking around your home that you share with your husband, Kento Nanami.

Instead of taking his birthday off, he decided to work today. He said he'd rather miss you all day and come home to his favorite gift of all.

Life with Nanami is so simple. Once you wed, you became a stay at home wife. Your choice. You love cooking and cleaning for your hunk of a husband, so this is almost a dream job.

You pad over to the full length mirror that stays between the entryway and the living room, making sure your outfit, or lack there-of, looked perfect.

Last week Nanami took you to the mall to go lingerie shopping, to which you picked out a handful of pieces. You took note at the look on his face for each outfit, even though he loved all of them - there was one in particular that made him almost feral.

Your hands dragged over your voluptuous curves, which you knew made your husband go mad. He describes you as 'soft' and 'delicious'. You're wearing a teal lacy one piece, with a deep v that has your tits spilling out. You have a matching mesh robe laying over your body, cascading to the floor in the most angelic way.

Your hair is curled, skin is moisturized and scented with your favorite perfume that Nanami got you for Christmas the first year you started dating, which smells like roses, with a hint of vanilla.

You didn't apply much makeup - it would get ruined tonight anyways.

In the kitchen is a table full of all of Nanami's favorite dishes: sandwiches with your homemade bread, as well as miso ramen. He loves fruit, so you had a plethora of options for him, but you knew he would love the strawberries you picked from your garden that you both love to work on on the weekends.

˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆

You heard tires roll onto your driveway - your husband is home.

To this day, you still get butterflies whenever you're anticipating his arrival.

Like clockwork, he locked the car, twice, opened the door to the mudroom and took his shoes off, then opened the door into the home.

"Happy birthday, baby!" You open your arms as his eyes meet yours. A smile creeps onto his face as he sets his briefcase down, walking quickly towards you to pick you up and spin you around.

"The best gift." Nanami pressed his lips to your forehead, nose, then to your lips. "Thank you, darling."

Nanami's eyes dragged over your figure once he put you down, his calloused hand pressed to your plush hip. "Is this one that we bought last week?"

"Mhm. You like?" A smile tugs at your lips as you give him a twirl.

"Honey, I love." He almost growled, pulling you into his bubble. You wrapped your arms around his neck, piling kisses onto his lips. His mouth wandered to your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on your skin.

"Kento, we have to eat dinner first." Your back arched as you spoke, feeling your husbands fiery lips kiss the sensitive spot on your neck.

"My dinner is right here." He spoke in-between kisses, making sure not one centimeter was left untouched.

"No dessert before dinner my love, you know the rules." Reluctantly, you pulled away to walk into your kitchen. Nanami's eyes widened at the foods on the table - he didn't know where to start. He loves how you always make sure he's taken care of, in every sense.

˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆

"Delicious as always, darling."

"Of course, Kento." You washed the final dish before turning around to face your husband. He's in front of you now as you lean back against the sink, his broad shoulders hovering over you.

"Now can I get my dessert?" Nanami pressed a hand to your hip, rubbing small circles on your skin as the other hand pushed a hair out of your face.

Without words, you answered him by pressing your lips to his. Your lips moved slowly, leaving room for your tongue to invade his mouth. His arms caged you at the counter - the veins on his arms clearly visible. Your hands glided up his chiseled chest, feeling the beat of his heart in your palm.

"You have my entire heart, darling." Kento purred into your mouth as he moved his lips against yours, lewd noises coming from your mouths colliding.

You could taste the strawberry on his tongue as you kissed him, only intoxicating you more. Nanami's hands gripped your hips as he hoisted you onto the counter - him in between your legs as he continued to kiss you.

You looked down at him, relishing this moment. He seemed to be doing the same, his honey colored eyes glistening.

His hands gripped your lace bodysuit, pulling on it ever so gently, making sure not to rip it. Then they traveled up your soft tummy to your chest, kneading your tits with more force.

You pressed a hand to the back of his head, feeling his fresh undercut that he got done yesterday. His mouth landed on your chest, biting, sucking, and kissing the sensitive skin. You felt his fingers push the fabric away from your tit, revealing your erect nipple.

Kento peered up through his lashes, watching your expression as he took the nub into his mouth, sucking slowly. "Oh, Kento." You moaned softly, wrapping your legs around his waist. Never ignoring your other breast - he gripped it with his other hand, massaging gently.

One thing about your husband - he wants to give you the most pleasure, even on days that are supposed to be about him.

Kento continued kissing, sucking, and biting your breasts, leaving purple marks all over your chest.

"Baby, bed please." You whine, your voice breathless as you feel your body heat up, gripping his shoulders the best you could.

"How can I say no to you when you say please like a good girl?" He purred, holding you up as he stepped back from the counter. You smiled as he walked the both of you to your bedroom, which was also lit with candles. You kissed his cheek gently as he walked, feeling his back muscles contract as your nails dragged along the fabric of his shirt.

He laid you down gently onto the plush fabric of the comforter, watching your hair splay out. He laid down on his back next to you, pulling you on top of him. "Are you having a good birthday, Kento?" You whisper, rolling yourself onto your stomach. He reaches for you, pulling you onto his lap.

"Mm, yes." He gripped the fat of your hips, pulling your body towards his face as you straddled him. "I'm ready for my second course."

"We just ate, Kento-" You giggle as he pulls your aching core onto his face, his hand moving the fabric away from your cunt gently.

"I'm still hungry." You watched his eyes flicker up to you as he plunged his tongue inside your core, earning a moan from you.

Kento fiddled with the body suit, eventually snapping the buttons so he could pull you fully onto his face.

"You know I love when you sit on my face, angel." Kento's hands planted on the fat of your ass, kneading your cheeks as he wrapped his lips around your clit.

"K-Kento-" Your thighs start to quiver as he takes turns sucking on your clit, to burying his tongue inside of you. The room filled with the sounds of Kento devouring your cunt like it was his last meal.

You rocked your hips against his face gently, feeling the contours of his face on your cunt.

He knew that you were close, so he brought one of his hands that were on your ass to your aching clit, massaging it in circles with two fingers.

"F-fuck, baby, ah-" Your thighs pressed together, squishing his face as you came. Instinctively, you lifted yourself up but Kento pulled you right back down.

Once he felt satisfied with his meal, he pulled his face out from under you, which was coated in your juices. He dipped his index finger inside you, then bringing the digit to your lips.

"Taste." Kento demanded. One thing about your husband, he wanted you to know how obsessed he was with you. He wanted you to taste how delicious you are.

You open your mouth slightly as he pushed his finger past your swollen lips.

"Delicious, hm?" He wiped part of his face with the back of his hand before gently pushing you off of him to peel off his clothes. You watched as he the fabric fell to the floor, mesmerized by his physique.

˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆

"Kento." You whispered, as if you weren't in your own house. As if other people could be listening.

"Yes my love?" His large hand rested on your shoulder as he pulled the straps down of your lingerie. He marveled in how good the color looked against your skin, his fingers gliding down your arm.

"I-I want a baby." Your doe eyes find his, searching his eyes for an answer before his mouth says it.

"A baby? Are you sure?" He pressed his hands to your thighs. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do that just for me."

"That was always the plan, Kento." You moved your body closer to his on the bed. "We've been married for four years. I'm ready."

A smile graced Kento's face as he kissed you more times than you can count.

"How did I get so lucky with you?" He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

You felt the same. Being married to Kento feels like a fairytale every single day. Like you won the lottery.

"Happy birthday, baby." You pressed a sultry kiss to his lips, cradling his face in your hands.

He look a deep breath as he kissed you, slowly pushing you down on your back onto the bed. You looked down at his lower half, your breath hitching when you see his impressive cock. Even though you see it constantly, every time feels like you've never seen it before.

Kento aligned his leaking pink tip with your cunt, gently pressing as he moved his hips. He kept his eyes on yours as he sheathed himself into you, your walls stretching around his cock.

You closed your eyes as he pushed his entire length into you, his heavy balls hitting your skin.

"Keep your eyes open, honey." He brought his finger to your chin, lifting it so you're looking into his eyes. "I want to watch you as I put a baby inside of you."

Your mouth turned into an 'o' shape as he gained his rhythm, never leaving your gaze.

"You're taking my cock so well, you're always so tight." He praised you as he buried himself into your cunt. "Like a good girl, hm?"

You fight the urge to close your eyes as he thrusts into you at a quicker pace, the sound of his balls hitting your body as he plows into you.

"A-ah, I'm close darling." He watched you as his strokes became uneven. You watched the fire in his eyes as your walls fluttered and squeezed against his cock, milking him dry.

"Kento, fill me up, please."

He could never say no to you. Ever.

His entire body twitched as he put in his last strokes, his breath staggered. "I'm gonna put a baby in that belly of yours, you're gonna be swollen with m-my seed."

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pressed himself into you one last time, coating your walls with his juices.

He emptied himself into you for what felt like minutes. Slowly, he removed himself from you, a whine leaving your lips. You're spoiled with him, truly.

He panted, squeezing your body against his gently as he kissed the side of your face. "Are you okay?"

"I always am my love." You nod as he caresses your face with his knuckles. "Did you enjoy your birthday?"

"I always do with you. And next year, maybe we'll have a little one to celebrate with too." He pressed his hand onto your tummy, rubbing it gently as if theres already a baby Kento growing inside of you.

One thing led to another, and there you were... on his cock... again.

"We gotta make sure there's a baby in you by tonight." Kento chuckled as he pulled you on top of him once again, kissing your swollen pink lips as you pushed yourself onto his cock once again. He watched his length disappear inside of you as his hands slapped your ass cheeks, his head laying on the pillows.

You looked down at your pussy swallowing his cock, shaking your ass is you move up and down his length. Curses and moans left his lips as you rode him, your walls squeezing tight around him.

"K-kento, I'm gonna come again."

"Go on darling."

You rocked your hips against him, your walls twitching around him as you used his cock to fuck yourself. The euphoria hit you hard as you came, your hands clenching his biceps as your entire body twitched.

As he watched you grind on him, he felt another wave of pleasure. He pressed his cock up into you, filling you again.

You're both panting as you come down from your highs, smiles on your faces because you both fucked each other dumb.

"Thank you for being my other half." Kento pulled you into his arms, your face on his chest as you felt his heart rate slow down.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you more my darling."

[sun-kissy]

crystals | r.b.

regulus black x whimsical!reader

“Baby,” Regulus’ voice comes out two parts affection and one part exasperation as he feels your knees pressing down into the bed on either side of him. You hum distractedly in response, mind wandering to places he knows he can never follow.

He cracks his eyes open, a small smile involuntarily making its way onto his face at the sight of you. You’re as pretty as you always are, so pretty he wonders if you’re actually a dryad of some sort. You certainly look the part, with daisies braided into your hair and miniature toadstool earrings.

He watches as you outstretch your fingers to fiddle with the chain on his neck, your eyebrows bunched in concentration. Your tongue juts out of your lip adorably as you bite down on it, and he resists the urge to kiss you senseless.

The chain Regulus was wearing was nothing more than a thick black string, but it was knotted around various small crystals, courtesy of your hobby of collecting them. When he had first asked you out with a ring, you had shyly given him this string with a single crystal hanging from it – a rose quartz. “For my unconditional love,” you had mumbled, blushing so hard he thought you mirrored a rose. But the pink that coated your cheeks was a lovelier shade than any flower he had laid his eyes on.

From then on, you would knot new crystals onto the string whenever you found them. Regulus was pretty sure some of them had to have been rocks or pebbles, but he loved you too much not to indulge you.

“Mon chéri,” he tries again, amusement seeping into his tone. “It’s 5 in the morning.”

“So?” you ask distractedly, your fingers still tugging and pulling his necklace from side to side. “5AM is when the crystals are most active, you know. This is when they pull the most power from the core of the earth,” you explain matter-of-factly, so dedicated to your task that you don’t notice his smile widening.

You sway forward slightly, unable to balance on the balls of your knees. Regulus silently wraps his palms around your hips, tugging downward until you’re comfortably seated on his stomach.

That was when he noticed you had odd-shaped stones in one of your hands, sunlight reflecting off of them to give a pale blue glow. “What are those?”

You perk up at his question, abandoning your task of trying to tie the stones onto the string. Your head tilts upwards to give him a sunny smile. “They’re aquamarine crystals, obviously.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his smile softening. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, it’s always just as endearing to him. The way you smile fondly at him – like he’s silly for not knowing.

“Yeah,” you beam. “I found these in the stream nearby, the one next to the big daisy field with all the horsies.”

“You walked into the water again, then?”

It’s too laden with fondness to sound accusatory, but you turn slightly sheepish anyway, nodding. Your hands find their way back to his necklace, and this time you manage to loop the string around a crystal successfully. Your face lights up, obviously pleased with your work.

He huffs out a laugh, leaning forward to run his hands down your long skirt. As expected, he finds it damp and sticky. “You’ll have to take a bath, mon amour.”

“In the stream?”

“No,” he mutters, trying but failing to conceal his amused grin. He presses his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself upwards to press an amorous kiss to your forehead. He can’t help himself, the blush on your cheeks and the shy smile too much for his heart to handle. “In the shower, baby.”

“Oh,” you reply as a way of answer, and Regulus can’t help but chuckle at the slight disappointment in your voice. “Maybe I can shower in the water tomorrow, then? With all the ducks. These ducks are nice; they eat the bread I throw at them. You can come too if you’d like.”

“Maybe,” he replies indulgently, with absolutely no intention of letting you bathe with the ducks instead of with him — but he was never one to deny you anything you asked for.

[vivwritesfics]

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Twelve

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Warnings: blood, dream violence

Mafia AU

1.3K

Series Masterlist

Lando pressed her against the kitchen counter, his lips against her neck. She whined and moaned as he touched her. Red, bloody stains were left on her cheeks when Lando's fingertips touched her. And then a sharp, stabbing pain erupted in her side.

Lando pulled away from her and her lips chased his. But she couldn't follow him, stuck to the counter. When the fuck did Lando get a knife? And why the hell was that knife covered in blood?

Her hand was covering that stabbing pain in her side. When she pulled her fingers away, they were wet, red with blood. A scream left her lips and she wanted to collapse to the floor, but she couldn't, still stuck to the counter.

Lando shed his shirt, and his entire skin was covered with blood. But it was so clear that the blood wasn't his own. He brandished the knife as he strode into her living room.

It was just the two of them in her apartment. So, who the fuck was Lando walking towards? Her heart pounded in her chest as Lando walked over to the couch, to the person sleeping there. Who the hell was it?

But it didn't matter. Lando plunged his knife into their chest. He didn't stop there, though. He kept going, completely disfiguring them. She couldn't stop screaming as the blood spilled around her apartment, around her safe haven. The wound in her side was forgotten as the blood ran down her body, pooling on the floor.

Hands held her. "I've got you," someone was saying, pulling her close as she woke up with a start. Hands that had just been touching her, leaving blood on her. Even if it was in a dream.

She let out another scream as she fought against him, pushing away and crawling across the bed, away from him. "Stay away from me!" She cried, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Lando didn't reach for her again. He sat on the other side of the bed, watching as she tried to get her breathing back under the control. "You're okay," he said, hand moving across the sheets. But she couldn't even look at him, and Lando's heart snapped in two.

He stood up and walked back to the room. "Wait!" She called, and Lando couldn't stop the way that his heart jumped. "I locked my bedroom door before I went to sleep," she said. "How the hell did you get in?"

Lando had only felt pain like this once before, when his mother died. But the woman he loved, she was trying to keep him out. She'd locked the door to keep him away from her, and Lando wouldn't be surprised if she never trusted him again after breaking in.

He walked out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him. He'd fix this. He'd have to.

Lando didn't get back to sleep that night. How could he when her screams filled the apartment. It was a wonder that the neighbours didn't come knocking. He stared at the ceiling, pillow behind his head as he rested on the sofa.

It was one of the longest nights of his life. When the sun rose, he listened as her door opened and she walked out of her bedroom, looking just as tired as she looked. "Baby," Lando whispered as he sat up and rubbed his hand over his forehead.

She ignored him as she moved to the kitchen and made herself a coffee. Her hands shook as she boiled the kettle. Lando couldn't help but watch as she placed bread into the toaster. The way her hands shook, there was no way she would have been able to butter it on her toast.

Lando stood. He walked over to the counter, coming to stand beside her. "Let me help," he said, taking the butter knife from her hands.

"Lando," she whispered, his hands gentle against her own. His hands may have been gentle, but he was still a murderer. "You... kill people."

His head dropped, curls falling over her eyes. "I know. Baby, trust me I know." She couldn't move as he reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear. "But they were bad people." The lie slipped so easily from his mouth, he couldn't help it. Being in this apartment without her touch was killing him.

"Aren't you a bad person, Lando?" She muttered, but she didn't move away from his touch. Not until her toast popped out of the toaster and she flinched.

Lando took it out of the toaster and buttered it for her. "I am, baby. But I need you to know that I'd never, ever hurt you. You're too precious to me." He kept his hand on her cheek as he leaned in and kissed her.

She didn't pull away, not right away anyway. But, when she did, she shut her eyes. "Lando, I love you," she said quietly. "But I need you to give me space."

"Okay," he said, pulling away and leaving her toast in front of her. "Do you want me to find somewhere else to stay?"

She shook her head as she picked up her toast. "I still want to know you're safe," she said and took a bite. She left Lando standing there in the kitchen while she sat herself down on the sofa and ate the rest of her breakfast.

Lando let out a breath. She loved him, she didn't want him to move out. At that, he could rest easy.

He watched her as she ate. She didn't deserve this, didn't deserve a monster like him in her life. "I'm gonna go and shower," he said as he pushed away from the counter top. "And then maybe we can talk some more."

She shook her head as she stood up and placed her plate on the counter. "Can't," she said and finished her coffee. "I've got work."

Panic flooded Lando. "Baby, you can't."

She let out a huff. "I have to, Lando," she said and walked into her bedroom.

For the entire day that she was at work, Lando was on edge. It took everything in him to not text her every five minutes. But it was just because he wanted to make sure that she was alive.

Unable to do any work, Lando did nothing but lounge around on her sofa. As much as he needed to sleep, he couldn't. He tried cleaning, but Lando had quite literally never cleaned anything in his life, and he only served to spread the mess around.

As Lando sat in her apartment, he couldn't help but picture a little cat curled up beside him. It would have been there cat, one they adopted together after he moved into her apartment. And moving in with her would have been Lando's escape, his way out of the mafia world that he fucking hated.

He hated it more than anything now.

If that was the reason he lost her, Lando would never be able to forgive himself.

Hours later, the door unlocked. Lando brandished the nearest thing to him to use as a weapon. The television remote. It was pitiful, really. But then she walked through the door and he visibly relaxed.

"What do you want for dinner?" She asked instead of saying 'hello'. She placed her bag down onto one of the chairs in her kitchen, rolled up her sleeves and pulled open her fridge.

In an instantly Lando was on his feet and racing towards her. "I've been sat here all day doing nothing," he said as he stood behind her. "Let me sort dinner."

She let out a breath as she pulled out a carton of eggs. "Do you actually know how to cook?" She asked as she began preparing dinner.

She cooked in silence. Every other time she'd made dinner for Lando, he'd gotten in her way, giggles sounding as she danced around him. But there were no giggles now. God, he missed her smile so fucking much.

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[gravid-transluna]

Bread, Milk, and Eggs

words: 1390

content: rapid pregnancy and birth, lactation, birth denial, fpreg

Nadia grabbed a basket on the way into the supermarket. She wouldn’t need a cart. Her list only consisted of three simple things. The basket swung as she combed the aisles, leisurely.

Bread

She picked out a loaf, pausing to read the expiration date before dropping it in the basket.

As it plopped in, she immediately felt a strange sensation. It was almost like a tugging in her navel, a buttery innie. She pressed her lean, dark tummy, firm with athleticism. Not concerned. Just a little curious.

Then the tugging became a pressure, consistent with the bloated sensation she would experience on her period. Nadia frowned. She pressed down on her belly, and, to her surprise, it pressed back.

“The hell—?” She was really frowning now. She realized how she must look to passerby, a college-age girl in a crop top and jean shorts, staring at her stomach.

Probably just gas or something, she thought. She continued down the aisle. When she reached the end, she looked down again, this time gasping audibly. Her belly had a curve to it, bending a little past the waistline of her jean shorts now. Nadia pressed down again, hard. She stopped when she felt nausea well up inside her. Her belly was still mostly muscle, but had a slight softness to it, a give like a firm peach. As she watched, it swelled even more, pushing out slowly to stretch her shorts.

“Holy fuck,” Nadia muttered, suddenly feeling the flesh of her belly contained in the seams of her waistline like it had never been before. She felt extremely uncomfortable, and reached around it to undo the button, fingers fumbling. She gasped, breathing, and her belly expanded even more without the restriction.

Nadia could now spread her fingertips around its underside. She looked almost, she looked—

No. Nah. No fuckin’ way.

Nadia grabbed the bread from the basket and lifted it to her eyes. The expiration date had been nine months from now when she’d picked it out.

Now, it was four.

“I gotta be tripping,” Nadia mumbled.

She laced her fingers over her navel and held firm as the skin filled her hands and pushed against them. She refused to let it grow any more and ruin her trim tummy and athletic figure. Then a pain and pressure shot through her belly, as though something had rose, shoving, up into her sternum. She let go, and her belly rapidly dropped, the skin stretching tightly, itching around her belly, her taut belly muscles being pulled and loosened and smoothed into a round, curving shape. She watched in mounting horror, cupping her mouth as her innie rose and popped outward. Then, a sharp inner jab, distending its tight surface. Nadia gasped. Movements wriggled her belly viscerally. She clutched at her lively swell, unable to deny it any longer.

“Shit, I’m pregnant,” she said.

Dark stretch marks patterned the sheening brown skin. Nadia regretted her crop top, exposing her to the entire supermarket. She glanced around. She only needed a few more things, then she could get to a doctor. She began to speed-walk, realizing that her strut had been hindered to a waddle, heavy belly forcing her to walk with her back curved to support the gravid weight.

Without realizing it, Nadia rested her hand atop the high shelf of her belly as she walked, a natural maternal gesture.

Milk

She came to the dairy aisle and opened the door, suppressing a sharp breath as her belly rippled and twitched with a flurry of kicks. As soon as she placed a carton of milk in her basket, she was subjected to another set of sensations.

She recoiled.

“Noooo,” Nadia moaned, heedless to glances from passerby. “No, no, not again!”

Sharp points of pressure stabbed through her nipples, and she watched as they stiffened under her crop top, then began to thicken and elongate, inching outward. Her small breasts, she realized, were swelling as well. They sank, full, still not particularly large but swollen now, tender. High before, their undersides now rested on her belly, humiliatingly completely her very pregnant appearance. Nadia cupped them, then gasped; her fat nipples were sensitive, raw. The simple contact had leeched milk from the tips, forming twin wet spots on her tip. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling them continue to dribble achingly.

My top, Nadia thought. My favorite fucking top.

She had to get out of here, now. Before anyone saw her, leaking milk in the dairy aisle. Before anything… worse could happen.

As if on cue, her belly shook and swayed with powerful, urgent kicks.

Eggs

One more item. Fortunately, it was on the same aisle, near the milk. Nadia scanned quickly, chose a carton at random, not even bothering to check the eggs for cracks as she usually did. Breast milk ran freely down her front now, her top soaked with two spreading wet patches. She threw the carton into her basket and heard a crack.

Nadia cursed. She opened the cartoon and saw that it only contained a single broken egg.

“What the—”

Then her belly surged, a sudden pressure rushing through her, downward. Her knees trembled, weak. She clasped the aisle fridge handle to remain upright as fluid flushed from her vagina, drenching her legs and puddling the floor. Immediately she felt something large, heavy, and round drop between her pelvis. Her belly hung lower. The bones of her hips craned with forceful pressure; they were still narrow and girlish, unable to reach the significant width of expecting mothers in time for her own birth.

Birth.

“No, I—” Nadia stuttered, clutching her belly. “I can’t be—nnnngh.”

An urge to bear down pounded in her head. Nadia fought it, sleek muscled body tensing with resistance. She tried to put her legs together, feeling like the baby would fall between them with her widened stance, and found that she couldn���t anymore. They were permanently spread, hips opened in preparation. She turned and began to waddle as fast as she could to the front of the store, hand pressed over the sodden crotch of her shorts. Running had become a ridiculous notion, nearly impossible. Her knees wavered, threatening collapse. She couldn’t bring her legs together as she pumped them forward, and her belly swung, gravid and obtrusive, as she moved.

Another contraction. Every muscle in her belly clamped down, transforming it into a tight, rigid ball, driving the breath from her.

Don’t push, she thought. Don’t push. Pushing makes it real. Don’t—

She dropped into a deep squat in the middle of the aisle. Gripping the belly between her thighs hard enough to indent the surface, she bore down with a long, uninterrupted groan. Internal muscles thrust her baby through her canal, opening her. Her hips creaked. Her voice cracked, shrill now as she pushed again. The head slid between them, almost dislocating them with its width. She forced her legs even wider instinctually, desperate to make room for the descending head.

“Holy shit, she’s in labor!”

“Someone call 9-1-1!”

The people around her had stopped, unsure. They watched her, some phone cameras now winking down at Nadia in her birthing squat.

Her eyes widened as the contraction abated with the baby’s head resting in her vagina, filling her entire canal with tremendous weight. She could feel herself bulging into her jean shorts. On quivering spread legs she raised herself and hobbled out of the aisle.

“Excuse me, ma’am! You have to pay first!” an employee demanded as she passed the checkout, basket swinging from her arm.

The store alarms rang, and then Nadia was gripped by another contraction.

She buckled, bowing into another squat and pushing long, shoving her baby further into her tented jean shorts. The crown burned and dilated her vagina into a hot, red teardrop, then a drawn circle. Amniotic fluid spilled, spurting into the fabric around the head. Then her progress was suddenly, excruciatingly halted by her shorts. She’d pushed half a head into them and the stretched fabric wouldn’t yield any more space. Nadia bore down, her clenching efforts fruitless now. Her pussy slipped, tense and bloodless around the head. She threw her head back and moaned with the screaming sirens.

It had been three simple things. The fourth? Well, the fourth she’d never expected to be so complicated.

[zepskies]

Sample the Menu

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

AN: Happy New Year, everyone! 🌟 This was requested by a lovely anon. It’s sort of a sequel to the imagine below. ⤵️

See this imagine for context: Repaying him for a job well done.

Word Count: 550 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only — spiciness and innuendo.

Imagine: Interrupting Ben while he’s cooking.

The cringeworthy sound of metal clanging on metal woke you up early on a Saturday morning. Though your irritation was soon waylaid by the glorious smell wafting up from the kitchen.

Bacon. It had to be. Mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

You slid out of bed, pulled on one of the shirts discarded on the bedroom floor (likely Ben’s, for how big it was), and freshened up before heading downstairs.

You were greeted to a mouthwatering sight.

An over six-foot tower of a man was taking up your kitchen, all broad shoulders and lean muscle and bed-tousled hair.  

In short, Ben was cooking.

But because he didn’t have to worry about the potential sting of sparked bacon grease, he only wore a pair of sweatpants while scrambling the eggs. Slowly you crept closer, not wanting to disturb his concentration just yet.

He actually seemed to be doing well. Or at least, nothing seemed to be on fire. (A vast improvement from previous attempts.)

Besides the pans of eggs and bacon, there were four slices of bread locked and loaded in the double-decker toaster, a side of butter, and two plates on the counter. The coffee was already done percolating.

Once again, your boyfriend managed to delight and surprise. He’d never cooked for you before. And you could dare to say, not for anyone before. You'd just recently managed to get him to do the dishes without being asked, to say nothing of breaking out the cookware...

There was an enormous mess of bowls, plates, and even a whisk in the sink, but you could deal with that if this was your reward.

A bubbly feeling rose up into your chest, making you smile. You went to him on light feet, sneaking up behind him.

Looping your arms through his and embracing him from behind, you leaned up on your toes and nipped at his bare shoulder. To him, it felt like a mere graze of your teeth.

“Mmm, I love a man at work,” you said.  

“Was wondering how long you were gonna fucking stand there,” Ben said, finally glancing at you over his shoulder. His lips twitched upward at the sight of your grin.

You hugged him tight from behind and pressed a lingering kiss into his neck.

“Breakfast looks good, babe. Thank you,” you said, though your hands drifted down his chest, down his sternum, down to thumb at the stretchy waistband of his pants. “It all looks good.”

A smirk pulled at his lips, though you couldn’t see it.

“Oh yeah?” he said. “Want to sample the menu?”

He felt your smile grow against his skin. “Yeah, I think I do.”

Just as you might’ve started inching that waistband down his hips, and lowering yourself along with it, Ben set down the metal salad spoon he’d been using to mix the eggs and turned in your arms.

He grabbed you by the hips and hauled you up on the counter beside him, hard enough to make the plates clatter. You gasped at the suddenness of it and clung to his arms.

“Ben—”

“Be a good girl and sit pretty for me,” he said. His eyes glinted with a familiar edge of cockiness before they roamed over your bare thighs. His grip brought you right to the edge of the counter, where he spread your legs apart. You allowed it, a tremor of arousal coiling in your belly.

His hand ventured up the inside of your thigh, and his smirk deepened.

It seemed you’d forgone panties entirely this morning. He liked that, along with the blushing smile you now wore, just for him.

“On second thought,” he said, as his fingers brushed the bare seam between your legs. “I think I want a taste.”  

AN: Hopefully the real food doesn't get cold. 😅

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List (Part 1):

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk

@midnightmadwoman @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken

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[rayveneyed]

cw: ares!bakugou x aphrodite!reader, fem!reader, mentions of war and violence, bakugou who is so pathetically in love but doesn’t know it

he finds you in a place unlike any other he’s previously found you in — sitting on the ground behind a quaint little market stall near the sea, where purple weeds grow from old brick and the streets are worn and dusty. the sun shines bright here, always has, but illuminates your little corner something special — golden and honeyed, reflecting off the jewellery hanging from your ears and wrists.

this is not the sparkling marble and iridescent gold of mount olympus; this is not the illustrious facades of athens, nor the rich fabrics and skilfully carved stones of abyssinia. you’re selling flowers — clay pots of red roses and white geranium; dandelion bulbs for next spring. they pour over the stall and onto the ground, long, frond-like leaves and jewel-toned petals, encapsulating you in an orb of beauty. it suits the city, with all its charm and narrow streets, but at the same time you eclipse it all. it’s only natural, he supposes — godliness rarely ever goes unseen, and you most godly of all.

his boots are caked in dark mud; his sword clangs loud at his hip, and the crowd parts for him instinctively. those who have any sense turn away from him, scurrying along with their baskets of fruit and loaves of bread, smart enough to avoid soldiers and smarter, still, to avoid those of his nature; those who are perhaps more foolish turn to gape at him as he nears you, taking in the slope of his broad shoulders and his unpleasantly-contorted face. he imagines it almost comical, the juxtaposition between you, but he is no stranger to your treachery, nor your barbs.

you do not regard him when he nears, but he would be a fool to think you haven’t noticed him — as expected, your pretty lips split in a smile when his shadow falls over you.

“aphrodite,” he greets, plain and frowning. “what business have you here?”

it is more respect than he allows most other gods, except perhaps his father and mother — but you are you, born from sea-foam and gore, and he knows your power as intimately as he knows his own. if his power is drawn from combat, from war and blood and guts, yours is much from the same; jealousy, dark and curdling, crimes of passion, blood-coloured rubies and garnets. it is only this that stays his irritation, bubbling instead as something just as fierce and red-hot in his chest.

“here, i am known by one name, and one name only,” you only say, demure. a sharp blade in your right hand, and a thorn-ridden in the other, you make quick work of slicing the hardy stem in half. “they call me _____. it is a good name. what name have you taken in this form, dearest ares?”

he stares at you — eyes the roundness of your shoulder beneath your robes, the embroidery of which is delicate and expertly done. your eyes are half-lidded, cast down to your work, the shadows of your eyelashes curving over your cheeks. it has never been a question of his (or any other, for that regard) as to why you govern all matters of beauty. it is clear as the sun in the sky.

your eyes flicker up from the flower blooming in your hand. he realises that he did not avoid your question quickly enough — his head still stumbles over dearest ares. no matter. you’ve never bristled at his misanthropic silence or brutish remarks — only brushed them off with a knowing smile or distracted sigh, like he was nothing more than an overexcited puppy nipping at your ankles. it should annoy him more than it does, perhaps, but there are more pressing matters to attend to.

“war will find its way here,” he says shortly. looking away from your face and finding his mind clearer, he takes in his surroundings more fully; the cobbled streets, the wooden crates of produce, fresh and shiny. the smell of salt in the air, the heat of the sun. if he had such an appreciation for beauty, for aesthetics, he would perhaps feel worse about the sorry state this place will surely be in once the fighting is over. this is wholly against his nature, though; he cannot deny the chance of a good fight sparks something in his stomach. still, he attempts to dull his blood-thirst when he turns to you once more, and says: “most will die. blood will fill these streets, and fire will burn these stalls. none will inhabit this village for the next hundred years.”

he hadn’t expected tears from you, to be sure, but he still finds himself surprised when you simply respond: “hm.”

the stem is cut in half again. then, methodically, your blade slices away at the thorns.

“does it please you, sweet ares?” you say, then, peering up at him from below those gods-forsaken lashes — and he is frozen once more. “to look here, at that peaceful horizon, at these swarms of mortals, and see war?”

“yes,” he says. honest. you know his nature.

“hm.” after another pause, you raise a hand; beckoning him close with a simple wave that he is all too weak to resist. his knee finds the cobblestone, his other forming a rest for his arm. he is not unaware that this could be regarded as deference. better you than apollo, or hephaestus, or dionysus, or any other.

you lean forward. he bends towards you, too, until less than the width of your stall separates you. would he be a mortal man, this proximity would have already ruined him for all others.

“by the time this village is in ruins,” you say, voice a low whisper, eyes boring so pointedly into his — so close that your breath heats his lips, and the smell of roses clouds his head, “i will be gone, or perhaps i will be among it. and i will find another town just like it, or a city thrice its size, or a village not even half of it. and you will follow me there, as you have followed me for millennia, sweet…?”

“katsuki.”

a toothy grin suddenly eclipses your face — all hints of secrecy or solemnity vanished. his cheeks are hot — he hadn’t even meant to reveal it, the inconsequential name of his current human form — but before he can snap at you, snarl his embarrassment away, you reach up. that same flower you had been carving away at is deftly tucked behind his ear, fragrant and blooming, and he is equal parts enraged and astounded by it. you can see it on his face, too, and laughing, stand to your feet.

“sweet katsuki,” you say, turning away from him, “let us meet here again. bring your war. i will bring mine.”

you disappear around the wall — or perhaps in the fluttering of a butterfly’s wing, or a ray of golden sunlight.

katsuki — ares — is left, with his mud-stained boots and his face contorted somewhere between anger and incredulity, a rose in his spiked hair.

[adamgnade]

1) The burrito on the cover of this book is from El Veganito. 

2) It's their titular "El Veganito Burrito."

3) El Veganito is in the Grossmont Center Mall.

4) During the book's production Becky went to El Veganito and took this photo of Justin's hands holding an El Veganito Burrito for the book design Bran did. The book was then released last year by Three One G and Bread RosesP ress Its fifth printing came out yesterday.

5) In this series we see @evanpancakes' (from IG) copy of the book on a trip they took to Grossmont Center Mall.

6) Photo number 2 is Evan's burrito. Evan's rad. We met on tour.

7) When people recreate this photo it's one of my favorite things. Thanks, Evan.

[cambion-companion]

Could you write something for Aemond being protective of his pregnant wife during the dinner scene in ep8? Like she gets caught up in the middle of the fight and Aemonds just having none of the Strong boys shit as they endanger his beloved

Hi my lovely Anons! These are all brilliant requests by the way, and thank you for reading my works!

Aemond x pregnant!reader | the dreaded family dinner | hurt reader | protective dad Aemond

You looked down to where Aemond knelt before you, his hands reverently holding the swell of your pregnant belly as your hands carded through his long hair.  He pressed his lips to where your child grew, looking up at you reverently with his lilac eye.  “You will be a wonderful mother, Y/N.”  He rose to kiss you, pouring adoration into the way his lips moved with yours, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip.  You gasped softly as he deepened the embrace, his hands cupping your waist, pulling your round abdomen flush against him.

“Are you ready to go down to dinner?”  You murmured, your breath still mingling with his.

“Mm.”  Aemond breathed, his eye still half closed as he rested his forehead against yours. “I’d much rather spend the evening alone with you.”

“As would I.”  You kissed him once more before extricating yourself from his grasp. “However, your mother would not be pleased with either of us.”

“Indeed, she would not!”  Aemond chuckled, opening the door for you as you both exited your bedchambers.

Arm in arm, you walked together down the winding stone corridors, reaching the dining hall just as Aegon joined you.  “Ready to break bread with the wolves, brother?”  Aegon rolled his eyes, pushing open the oaken doors.

Aemond didn’t answer, though his arm around you tightened slightly.  Alicent and Rhaenyra were already sitting at the long table, carefully avoiding each other’s gazes.  Jacaerys and Lucerys glanced over from their corner of the room, looking over you, Aemond and Aegon as you entered.  You noticed Jacaerys’ eyes drop to take in the curve of your belly, a sneer flitting across his features as he looked at Aemond beside you.  You held Aemond’s arm a little tighter as he guided you to your seats.  You sat, taking the weight off your tired feet, Helaena to your immediate right and Aemond sitting at the end of the table to your left.  

You could tell how tense your husband was, your attention thoroughly distracted from the light conversation around the table.  Aemond’s gaze was hard, flitting between Jacaerys and Lucerys who were studiously avoiding his intent eye.  You started slightly in your seat as King Viserys began speaking loudly, his breathing ragged as he urged his family to set aside their differences and try to start anew.  Your gaze flitted to where Aemond studied his plate, his long fingers tapping next to where his goblet sat.

A round of toasts began, starting with Rhaenyra and slowly moving around the table.  You didn’t hear what Aegon murmured to Jace, but it was enough to cause the boy to slam his fists upon the table, rising to his feet in anger.  Beside you, Aemond slowly got to his own feet, eyeing his nephew as though daring him to continue.  Jace hesitated a moment, his gaze flicking briefly to your own face before he raised his own goblet in a toast to his uncles. Aemond shared a glance with you as he returned to his seat, you quirked an eyebrow, but he shook his head slightly.

Lilting music began to fill the room, servants bearing food and drink hurried to service the nobles as you all began eating and chatting.  You turned to engage Helaena in conversation just as Jacaerys asked her to dance with him.  Aegon watched them depart for the middle of the room, hand in hand, before turning to share a bemused look with Aemond.  Your husband shifted in his seat, the better to keep an eye on Jace, his face set in a stony expression.  You rubbed your stomach absent-mindedly, stirring the soup before you while deep in thought.  

“Excuse me a moment.”  You stood, gathering your skirts as you made your way passed Aemond, touching his shoulder lightly as you went, walking down the steps toward the privy.  

After washing your hands in the water basin, you slowly ascended the stairs back into the dining room only to see your husband standing at the end of the table, his goblet held aloft. “Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again.”  Jace said from where he stood next to a confused Helaena.  

“Why?  It was only a compliment.”  He moved around the corner of the table to meet Jace as he advanced. “Do you not think yourself strong?”

You moved quicker than you thought possible in your heavily pregnant state, seeing the unfolding of events before they happened.  Jace swung a heavy punch toward the scarred side of Aemond’s face. “No!” You shouted, interjecting yourself between the two men just in time to block Jace’s blow with your forearm, the force of it knocking you back against Aemond’s chest.

You used your other hand to try and push Jace away, but the boy grabbed your wrist roughly, yanking you forward with such force you audibly gasped in pain.  

“Jace!”  Rhaenyra yelled.

“Aegon!”  Alicent scolded as her eldest slammed Lucerys into the table.  

The momentum of Jace’s pull as he tried to get you out of his way caught you off-guard, your arms unable to catch your body as you tripped, landing heavily upon the stone floor.  Deathly silence fell in the room, everyone seemed to be collectively holding their breath, watching as you kept still, assessing the damage.

“Aemond, no!”  It was Alicent’s voice again, sounding more scared than angry.  

You looked around from where you’d propped yourself up on your hands, seeing your husband with his hand at Jace’s throat, pinning him to the wall, a thin dagger at the boy’s throat.

“Aemond!”  Alicent cried again, rushing to your side instead of trying to get her son off Jacaerys.  She looked you over, worry etched into her face.

“You think to injure my wife.”  Aemond seethed, his voice a deadly hiss. “To manhandle her when she is so vulnerable.”  

“Aemond…”  You spoke soothingly as Alicent helped you back to your feet. You glanced with worry to where Daemon was making careful progress toward your husband. “I’m alright.  Aemond, let him go.  I need your help.”

He released Jacaerys at once, the boy almost losing his footing as Aemond turned to you.  Your husband was quickly at your side, supporting your back with one hand while his hand worriedly stroked at your abdomen.  His violet eye roved your face. “Are you injured?  Is-is our child…?”  

“I’m alright. Please, let’s just go.”  You said again, shooting Alicent a grateful look as Aemond helped guide you from the dining hall.  She watched the two of you go, her face a mask of worry and sadness.

“I could kill him.”  Aemond spoke, his voice a growl from where he walked beside you, his hands still supporting half your weight.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’d go over well.”  You tried to make light of the situation, but Aemond wasn’t having it.

“If he so much as looks at you again, I will feed him to Vhagar after I finish with him.”

The anger in his voice was palpable, your own skin prickled with it.  You turned to him, halting your progress down the corridor, taking his tense face in your hands.

“I am uninjured, my love.”  You kissed the corner of his mouth, smiling as he moved his head into your touch. “Our child is still whole.  There is no danger.”

He caressed your hair, his gaze gentle upon your face.  His hands traced the curves of your body, holding the swell of where your child grew within you.  “If anything happened to you… I would be lost.”

You kissed him, the two of your clinging to each other, the adrenaline wearing off, leaving you exhausted but relieved your little family was safe from harm.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: What it's like to hold the M6

~ my submission for this week's prompt - have some sappy headcanon drabble ^.^ ~

Julian

The sounds of leather folding and bending and creaking, of a pent up sigh, of a noble, anxious, too-big-for-its-own-good heartbeat fluttering against those thin, bird-like ribs

The smell of - yes, more leather - with a slight hint of sweat and the faded scent of the crushed herbs used to stuff doctor's masks

The feel of a well-worn, weather tested, oversized coat falling around both your frames, a cold set of bony fingers tangling into your hair through protective gloves

The sight of folded black cloth and slightly dulled metal buttons, a pale neck cradling your forehead, auburn stubble shivering over a bobbing adam's apple

The bitter taste of sea-salty lips, self-sacrifice, and coffee

Asra

The sound of an airy chuckle, a curious whisper, a deep, relaxed sigh, a heartbeat that touches your own with every gentle thump

The smell of smoking incense, sparkling spices, and syrupy vanilla, lurking beneath the petrichor of sunny spring rains on the dust of a far-off highway

The feel of a soft shawl on your cheek, sturdy linen body-warmed and slightly rough under your arms, heavy, heated hands running soothing pathways along your spine, cloud soft curls on your ears, a deceptively slight frame

The sight of golden metal and silvery blue stone on smooth skin, the barely-there rise and fall of a body slowly relaxing into yours

The taste of smoky tea, home, and desperate dedication

Nadia

The sound of rustling silks, the quiet clink of bracelets and rings, the hush of long, thick hair falling over chiffon-clad shoulders, a contented, throaty hum, a lofty heartbeat

The smell of jasmine, rose, pepper, and amber, of warm silk and chilled white wine, of flower gardens and powdery cosmetics

The feel of a heavy curtain of hair against your face, body warmth passing quickly through thin, gauzy sleeves wrinkling under your movements, of strong fingers tilting your chin into her collarbone

The sight of glinting gemstones and finely crafted metal, intricate embroidery stitches swirling across lustrous fabric, scalloped hemlines along sculpted shoulders

The taste of spiced fish, wine, and plush, commanding adoration

Muriel

The sound of heavy, rough cloth slowly dragging across itself, breaths hitching deep and slow, a grumble quiet and low enough to shake the earth, a nervous, powerful heartbeat

The smell of myrrh hanging around you like a cloud, of warm fur and chilly forest air, of falling leaves and running water and smoke

The feel of muscle and scruff, of radiating body heat, of massive, calloused palms alternating between gently splaying over your shoulders like blanketing weights and hovering cautiously around your waist in fluttering, feather like touches

The sight of thick, dark hair falling in choppy lengths over stubble and scar tissue, of thick green cloth over sinew

The taste of grilled forage and mead, of healing and steadfastness

Portia

The sound of an excited giggle, springing footsteps and jingling keys, a happy gasp and unstoppable heartbeat, a mischievous secret getting laughed into your ear

The smell of air-drying laundry and soap, hair oil and cocoa butter, fresh bread and sizzling butter and caramelizing berries

The feel of strong forearms, small, calloused hands, the push of energetic bouncing against your shoulder, of hair flying around your face, the plush squish of a no-holds-barred bear hug

The sight of fiery curls spilling over clean, pressed cotton, freckles speckling creamy skin, the occasional grey and white cat hair clinging to black ribbon, the dusk of a happy blush

The taste of yeasty bread, and the comforts of adventure

Lucio

The sounds of nearby dogs panting, a cutlass clanking in its sheath, the mechanical whir and musical hum of an alchemical arm, a confident, snorting chuckle and a devoted heartbeat

The smell of fresh sweat, warm metal, cinnamon alcohol in a journeyman's flask, hair gel and worn cologne

The feel of a padded, quilted vest, the quick rise and fall of an active chest, the slight tilt of a shoulder forever sloped in favor of a heavy arm, the sinewed grip of a warrior's touchstarved fingers and the cool, metallic touch of a careful clawed hand

The sight of sharp collarbones and glinting curved gold, fine flaxen hair at the nape of a snowy neck, crimson cloth and leather straps

The taste of grilled meat, traveler's wine, and new beginnings

[reborrowing]

@gtzel made a post about saving a drowning tiny from a pool yesterday and I do love me a good Terrible Situation

It was supposed to be a shortcut, one the borrower took all the time.

A leap out of the tree, skip off the fence down onto wall of the pool, and a quick jog across the cover so they didn’t have to run all the way around the massive structure on their way back to the garden.

They’d already jumped when they noticed the cover was absent. They struggled against their practiced momentum only to slip and slide on a puddle that carried them into the vast sea below.

It was not the pleasant water of the creek. It was not the clean water tapped from a pipe. It was acid, with chlorine that burned their face before they even hit the water. And it was cold, cold enough to set them gasping as soon as they managed to get their head back above the surface where it belonged.

They turned to swim towards an escape, but the walls rose out of reach. They fumbled with their gear but the encroaching panic was making it harder and harder to think straight and they couldn’t…they could barely keep afloat even with their hands free.

A leaf floated by to offer some relief. They threw themself at the paltry raft but even their meager weight was too much for the leaf to support. They fell beneath the surface again, this time taking in a horrible, burning gasp of water. They sputtered and kicked and everything was starting to get dark and disorienting.

They were going to die here. They closed their eyes and a dark shadow fell over them. hey assumed it was death itself and felt something like relief. At least it was over.

“What is—oh my god!”

A human’s voice booming overhead was enough to rouse them, but not enough to keep them awake. Even when they felt a net catch against their shoulder, they couldn’t bring themself to react. It pulled them out of the water and into the open.

Oh. That’s bad. That’s very bad, they thought distantly.

They flickered in and out of consciousness, floating through clouds of black. A heavy warmth enveloped them and pressed against their ribs.

“Jesus, what are you? Are you okay? Can you understand me?” the voice wavered around them.

When they woke back up, they found themself carefully cocooned in a soft cloth. They wriggled themself deeper into the folds for a few blissful seconds until reality set in.

Their lungs felt burnt, as if a fire had passed through them, and their whole chest ached. They had to fight against a thick fatigue just to sit up and see that they were inside the house, on the kitchen counter, mere feet away from one of the humans that lived there.

But it wasn’t watching them.

They forced themself to crawl out of the warm towel to make their escape. Their things had been stacked, perhaps as neatly as the human could manage with their clumsy fingers. A torn bit of bread and an apple slice were waiting there as well, a bounty well beyond what they could eat. Theirs for the taking. They paused.

They looked back at the human, who was staring intently at their phone, face wrinkled with worry. Worried about what? Not the borrower, surely. Though the human had just saved their life…They sat back down on the plush towel, to the relief of their aching body.

“Hey,” they called out. “Th-thank you.”

The human’s eyes lit up and the worry melted from their face. The borrower’s heart jumped as the titan leaned in close, but they only wanted to be sure that the borrower was alright. And against all reason, they were.

[mejcinta]

Aegon and Aemond vs The Strongs: A Show of Loyalty.

To this day it's still strange to me that people misinterpret the dinner scene for one or another reason, misreading the words and actions of the characters using bias and/or team politics.

The episode 8 dinner scene picks up from the previous episode years ago on Driftmark when Aemond lost his eye. It is meant to show us what feelings the Greens harbor towards Rhaenyra's family years after a feud broke between them.

Throughout the dinner Aemond focuses on the Strong boys: Luke sitting across from him and Jace who failed miserably at 'turning the other cheek' and disrespected Aegon by asking Helaena for a dance.

In fact, before taking a seat Aemond is heard lamenting to Aegon about how he hates that they have to break bread with Rhaenyra's brood (I'm paraphrasing but you'll hear it before Viserys is carried into the room).

In the end, both Aemond and Aegon answer to the contempt and audacity the Strong boys showed them. The scene by all means effectively managed to show us how the brothers now work as a unit compared to when they were younger and Aemond suffered bullying on his own.

Aegon supported Aemond's derogatory toast and even tackled Luke (the boy that gouged out his brother's eye) when he tried to join Jace against Aemond.

And Aemond dealt with Jace squarely in response to the disrespect he showed Aegon and Helaena (we all know that dance was not about Helaena for Jace, but coming between a married couple that has an image to uphold and as revenge against Aegon who foolishly made a move on Baela to insult him).

From the very start of the scene it's clear that neither Aemond nor Aegon wanted to be at the dinner. They hated that the Strong boys were there and even bitched about them before Viserys arrived.

Aegon's sly behavior with Baela was a provocation he started in response to his displeasure at Rhaenyra and the Strongs being there and Viserys' wish for them to bury their differences without acknowledging Rhaenyra's wrongs. Aegon was pressing for tension to erupt at every chance he could get.

Aemond silently watched him go and did not stop him for a reason. He couldn't bring himself to rebuke Aegon's mischief, not if that meant making the Strongs upset.

He only intervened when Jace almost lost his cool on Aegon, standing up dominantly to give warning to his nephew and Aegon to a lesser extent (who eyed him knowingly).

When Helaena rose up to justifiably humiliate Aegon with her toast, (she was clearly upset about his sexual misconduct with Baela and earlier with Dyana) Aemond's reaction isn't shown.

However, when Jace stood up to ask Helaena for a dance with his eyes fixed on a scandalised Aegon (Jace had every intention here to get back at Aegon, not to be the better gentleman), Aemond took notice, meaningfully locking eyes with Aegon, but kept his cool nonetheless; whereas Aegon quietly seethed and squeezed Helaena's beetle (reportedly a gift he'd offered her before the dinner) in his hand.

Aemond monitored Helaena because he doesn't trust the Strongs with his family. And I'm sure Aegon would've done the same if he was seated in a position where he was free to watch the mother of his children in Rhaenyra's bastard's arms.

Note how he was staring at Rhaenyra while Aemond monitored Heleana and Jace.

The Targtowers clearly watch out for each other when faced with external forces, just as Alicent said they should in episode 6: "In the world we must defend our own".

When the roasted pig arrived on the table Aemond suddenly took notice of Luke giggling at him, reliving how he and Jace (and a now repentant Aegon) would make fun of him for being dragonless.

The insult was probably less about the pig to him and more about what happened because of his dragonlessness. He gained Vhagar then lost his eye in a sickening twist when the same boy laughing across at him swung a blade at his face!!!

Finally, Aemond lost his cool. He snapped and attacked the Strongs with his infamous toast.

He did not make the toast because of Jace dancing with Helaena, like some believe. He did so because of Luke who had the gall to laugh at his pain!!

Aegon readily supported Aemond because he too was itching to get back at the Strongs, particularly Jace who despite of having insulted Aegon by dancing with Helaena, could not handle the pun in Aemond's toast.

Aegon and Aemond were obviously fed up with the pretenses at that point of the dinner. From the very beginning of the dinner scene and their interaction with each other, their disgust at the Strongs and Rhaenyra was apparent. They hate that those three can get away with having a lord (Vaemond) murdered in cold blood on top of disabling Aemond without consequence!

How safe is their family? How can they trust the Strongs and Rhaenyra when punishment and death follows everyone that dares to challenge them? That is why Aegon and Aemond were evidently frustrated with Helaena and Alicent respectively at the dinner. The boys believe they know a threat when they see it while the ladies are more accomodating of Rhaenyra and the Strongs, Alicent especially believing (perhaps out of resignation) that there could be a chance at peace.

What transpires after the toast shows the factions within the Targtower family itself. Alicent and Helaena being more open and neutral, Otto wanting to maintain appearances and Aegon and Aemond being understandably doubtful and hostile.

The scene is so much more complex and informative. It shows us the relationships between the Targtowers and what their stances on Rhaenyra's party is. How they work together and how they are divided.

[eoieopda]

Hi Jade 🫶🏻 I have a drabble request if you’re still taking them: Jungkook gets home from tour and is just the clingiest, cutest, softest bf 🙏🏻

yo this idea has me weak 🥲 i hope you like this!

Judging by the clattering in your kitchen, your jet-lagged boyfriend had finally emerged from his seemingly endless slumber.

You’d been awake for four hours, and out of bed for three. It took longer than expected to carefully untangle yourself from the knot of his limbs, but he slept through your escape. And Bam’s excitement at having an awake parent to play with. And the unavoidable clang of pots and pans as you cooked a breakfast now finally in the hands of its intended recipient - at 2:00 in the afternoon.

You heard the floorboards creak as he shuffled out of the kitchen. His movements were incredibly slow as he padded up the hall to join you in the living room, like all the sleep he’d gotten hadn’t recharged his battery. Also audible was the faint crunch of newly toasted bread, which tugged the corner of your mouth into an involuntary smile.

Jungkook always needed a snack to hold him over until he brought his actual meal to a table. After all, he might waste away in the few moments it would take to make himself a place. You always joked that his stomach was a bottomless pit, but he maintained that he only ate this much when you were the one cooking. And when you scrunched your nose at his flattery, he’d kiss it until your cheeks turned into roses. Then he’d kiss those, too.

Laying on the couch with your legs stretched out across the cushions, your head rested on a plush, velveteen pillow. The heels of your hands were anchored against your chest as you propped up this week’s novel. You had to peek over the top of it to see Jungkook appear in the doorway.

Bleary eyes squinted against sunlight as he looked for you. The hood of his sweatshirt was pulled up over his hair, but you knew without looking that it was sticking up in every possible direction - which always confounded you due to how deeply he slept. Immovable, powered off completely. His shoulders still carried the weight of his exhaustion; and his cheeks puffed out as he attempted to chew what you assumed was - at minimum - half his slice of toast.

Of all the versions of him, this one was a hard-fought favorite of yours: the silly, sleepy, soft Jungkook. The one that stirred the butterflies in your stomach just by existing, too out-of-it to notice the effect he had on you.

He groaned as he bent over to put his plate on the coffee table. You expected him to take his usual spot at the end of the couch and pull your legs over his lap like he always did. This time, he deviated from the pattern. Not waiting long enough for you to set your book down, he wiggled his head between its bottom and your chest, and then let the weight of his body slump down on top of yours.

You giggled as he slid his hands underneath you and wrapped you up in his arms. With his chest pressed against yours, you could feel his deep, contented sigh as it left him. No longer accessible, you closed your book with an unseen smile and tossed it gently to the rug below. You couldn’t see how it landed, but you hoped it was graceful.

“You left,” He mumbled sadly with his face tucked under your chin. He breathed slowly through his nose; every warm exhale tickled the bare skin of your neck.

Your now-free hands settled into a familiar routine. One rested on his back; the muscles of which, you noted, had become much more defined since he left for tour ten weeks earlier. The other hand pulled back his hood in order to thread fingers through his soft - albeit messy - tresses. Fingernails scratching gently over his scalp, you chuckled, “You had your leg draped over me, pressing into my bladder. When I came back from the bathroom, you were spread out over the mattress like a sleep-deprived starfish.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” He cooed, squeezing you tighter. “The second-worst part about leaving is having to sleep alone. I forget how to share, and then you have to deal with the consequences.”

“Second worst?”

“The only thing worse than going to sleep without you is being awake without you,” he explained it casually, as if it wouldn’t make your heart do somersaults.

But it did, because this soft, sleepy man was yours - he was home - and he said things like that just as easily as breathing.