#goodnight white pride

[ang-rey]

[cringefaecompilation]

also yeah. the native guy being the one to stop the fantasy white supremacist. feels good feels organic

[uw-wb]

[besthimbomachine]

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

Oh boy, my usually go to for that was the Werewolf Kenny concept, and while I don't know for sure if I'll be able to write it, because of time and stuff, I have worked more on the concept so I kinda have a plot line to follow if I write it. It would also be my one fic with an actual villain instead of just hurdles and problems and ocasional almost antagonists. It would also be very horny all the way through. Clothes stealing, corset ripping, some level of somnophilia, knotting of course, the good stuff.

I've also mentioned some others like a merman one and stuff but one that lives rent free in my head even tho I dunno if I will ever get to even develop the concept is a monster hunter Hangman x werewolf reader. Let girls be wild too, to love the monstrous but also to be loved as a monster. Part of me so badly would want to make this a sort of western story to have hangman as a cowboy at the twilight years of the cowboy era. Meanwhile I'd have the reader as a werewolf living in a small Latino community in a recently annexed Texas and generally protecting them from raiders or like ya know white Americans in general. So the town folks really just do not cooperate with hangman AT ALL. Girly be taking the Hannibal route and only eating the rude.

[schnilf]

i made this based on the original, do what u will with it

[im-yn-suckers]

ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ? ✧˖° bf!riki x gf!reader ✧˖° tw: kissies, cuddles, mention of stress, reader is said to be short but that could literally js mean shorter than him, and only sorta maybe perhaps a little kinda self indulgent bc i want a riki ^^ a little disclaimer: idk if riki listens to all of these, as they just come off of my playlist !

your desk is covered in pens, pencils, sticky notes and other supplies. ah yes, another paper, but this time you finished in time. previously you were worrying about getting in on time and if you did it right. will the professor think its good? will i get a good grade? i hope i didnt mess up

all of these thoughts crowded your mind for days maybe even weeks. it brought you tears and pride. the final paper you so horridly dreaded now turned in as you leave your desk, not bothering to clean it up. you walk over to your bf, who was busy playing league on the couch, that filled up, almost, the entire room.

you plop down next to him, leaning on his shoulder. his scent intoxicating you, god, how you missed it for the last 3 hours. "you done pretty girl?" he asks, though not looking down, too focused on his game. you only nod. minutes pass and youre still cuddled up to him. soon enough, he turns the tv off and turns toward you, fully sideways. he lets himself fall back onto the couch, allowing you to fall w him.

a giggle leaves his pretty lips, as you fall on top of him. the couch cant fit the both of you so he improvised. you lay your head on his shoulder, almost his clavicle. you lightly peck the skin-exposed by his black hoodie-covered by pretty moles. "youre squishing me!" "shhh this was all you" he sighs in defeat. "lets go to the bed then" you sigh, not wanting to move.

on the bed, you two lay on your backs, close together. something about his calm presence when you two are in bed, ready to fall asleep, is so comforting. maybe it was his scent, as mentioned, its intoxicating, almost dizzying. or maybe his giant figure next to yours, offering a sense of protection. maybe his soft breaths as he lays down, scrolling tiktok, not quite ready to sleep, yet.

"baby, baby!" he perks up, seeing a video "hm?" you respond, on the verge of falling asleep. your eyelids droopy. "lets make a playlist and take turns adding songs!" you giggle as you hear the idea, finding it quite endearing. you nod in agreement. he opens his laptop and pulls up spotify.

tapping the plus, he creates a new playlist. "what should we name it?" he asks, trying to complete the first step. "mmmm idk, something short but cute" he types in your name to tease you. "hey!" "what?? you said short and cute!" he deletes the name, trying to think of a new one.

"wait! ki! yk the song tell my momma by kard?" you have an idea, hoping its a good one. "uhm i know OF it, why?" "how bout we put 'ill do anything to make our love last long'?" you suggest a long but sweet lyric "baby, thats corny" "so is making a playlist tgt" silence. "ugh ig ure right" you giggle and he puts down the lyric.

"ok songs, you add one first" he pushes the laptop your way and you think for a moment you add the first song, every kind of way by h.e.r, he smiles seeing the song. he takes his turn "where is love" by 3house. your turn again, "wa-r-r" by colde. his turn again, "someone like u" by lullaboy "infranumi" by steve lacy, "pink+white" by frank ocean. "seasons" by wave to earth, "3:00 am" by finding hope it goes back and forth adding songs and laughing

once you two finish, he shuts the laptop, reaching over to set it down. he turns to his side to grab you and pull you close to him. his arms wrapping around you. he presses a little kiss to your lips saying goodnight.

[kapsloc7]

FINALLY POSTING THIS!!1! This was a huge project for me (literally, it is 3 feet tall!) based on Will Wood's 'The Normal Album' and my personal relationship with it. I threw a ton of references and symbolism in here, it was a ton of fun to create :)

Rambling about details under the cut.

Also: If you enjoy this, I have prints (and other things?) available here!

ALRIGHT BUCKLE UP BECAUSE I HAVE LOTS TO SAY

This painting is acrylic on a 24"x36" canvas, created as part of my portfolio focusing on human experiences and mental health. I wanted to make a painting about music because it's a very important thing to me, and was ultimately inspired by the song Memento Mori, The Most Important Thing. In the end I decided to base it off The Normal Album in its entirety.

The most obvious reference is the outfit, of course. I took all my own reference photos so it isn't an exact match, but is of course in spirit Will's outfit from the album cover. The only symbolism in this is the expression of masculinity in the suit, and a slight bit of femininity in the painted nails. Nothing too deep about it, I just wanted to throw in some gender fuckery because of my trans-ness.

The keyboard itself isn't a reference (I mean it's just my keyboard) nor are the books behind it (Just there for composition) but I put some stickers on the keyboard to throw in some extra references and symbolism. First, the "Give Me That Old Time Religion," both a Self-Ish reference and inspired by the sticker on Will's keyboard. Second, the pride flag being covered by an upside down American flag. This was something more personal I threw in for fun, about my distaste for the US and the oppression of queer people here. Also, I threw in the window from the album cover (but empty)

In the background, there are silly references to specific songs, (white picket fences, barbed wire and trenches, and the 222 for 2econd 2ight 2eer) and some more personal references as well (pill bottle ties into themes of the album as well as my own mental heath issues.) The potted plant has a bunch of symbolism thrown at it, and was inspired by lines in well better the alternative and Outliars and Hyppocrates, kinda a bit about feeling restricted by pressures from yourself or others causing you to uhhh. not be okay. and the pot design is based on the keys of Will Wood's keyboard as well as kinda an Everything Is a Lot reference.

Hand stuff: Bracelets are bracelets I made, mostly just for fun to provide more visual interest. Both kandi bracelets are inspired by Will Wood of course, the visible letters reading 'Memento Mori'. The grey bracelet doesn't have the letters visible, but it reads 'not afraid to die' The rings I wore were also personal fun. The white ring on the middle finger is a bit of queer code representing Aromanticism, and an engagement ring on my ring finger. Just representing the struggles I've had with sexuality and relationships and such.

Finally the chains, wallet chain was thrown in to represent financial pressure, and the one over the piano is the actually important one, representing how shitty it feels to turn creativity into a career, and feeling forced to create. There's more thrown in here probably but I'm tired and basically wrote an essay already so UH. GOODNIGHT IF YOU READ THIS FAR I LOVE YOU WAAAAA!!!! PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS I LOVE TALKING TO PEOPLE

[bettysupremacy]

hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your��James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝐴𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑛 𝑥 𝑊𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

♡ㅤ𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝅄ㅤೀ

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

The sun was beginning its descent, casting long shadows over the castle gardens. You were sitting on a stone, enjoying the tranquil evening when you heard the familiar pitter-patter of tiny feet. Little Aegon, his cheeks flushed from play, came rushing towards you, his eyes wide with excitement and concern. "P'etty! P'etty!" he called, his voice urgent. You stood up, curiosity piqued. "What is it, Aegon?" you asked, crouching down to his level. In his small hands, cupped carefully, was a tiny, injured baby rabbit. Its fur was soft and white, and its eyes were half-closed. Aegon held it gently, his little face full of worry. "Bunny," he said softly, looking up at you with pleading eyes. "Bunny hurt." You felt a pang of sympathy for both the bunny and the distressed prince. "Oh, Aegon," you said gently. "You found a little rabbit? Let me see." He nodded and carefully placed the bunny into your hands. You examined it, noting a small cut on its leg. "It's just a little cut," you reassured him. "We can take care of it." Aegon's face lit up with hope. "P'etty help bunny?" "Yes, we'll help the bunny," you said, giving him a reassuring smile. "Let's go find some bandages and clean the wound." You carried the bunny and took Aegon's hand, leading him back to your quarters. Once there, you set up a small area on the table with a bowl of warm water, a clean cloth, and some bandages. Aegon watched intently as you carefully cleaned the cut on the bunny's leg. "Bunny okay?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Yes, the bunny will be just fine," you said, wrapping a tiny bandage around the injured leg. "You did a very good thing by bringing it to me, Aegon." He smiled, his worry easing. "Bunny better now?" "Yes, much better," you said, finishing the bandage. "But the bunny needs some rest. Just like you do when you get hurt." Aegon nodded seriously, watching as you gently petted the bunny's head. "Bunny sleep?" "Yes, the bunny needs to sleep," you said, setting up a small, makeshift bed for the bunny with a soft cloth inside a basket. You placed the bunny in the basket, and it immediately curled up, closing its eyes. Aegon leaned in close, his face inches from the bunny. "Goodnight, bunny," he whispered. You smiled, ruffling his hair. "You're very kind, Aegon," you said softly. "Now, let's let the bunny rest and you can tell me all about how you found it." He nodded eagerly, taking your hand as you led him to a chair. He climbed into your lap, his little body warm and wiggly. "Bunny was in bush," he began, his words tumbling over each other. "I hear 'eep! eep!' and look. Bunny hurt, so I take bunny. Bunny need P'etty." You listened, smiling at his earnest retelling. "You're very brave and caring, Aegon," you said when he finished. "You did the right thing." He beamed up at you, pride shining in his eyes. "Bunny be okay?" "Yes, the bunny will be okay," you assured him. "Thanks to you." Aegon snuggled into your arms, his earlier worry replaced by a contented glow. "P'etty always help," he murmured sleepily. You chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'll always be here to help, little dragon," you said.

More baby Aegon and witch reader:

𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[capquinn]

Hey I love your Dad!Quinn writings so much! They’re so cute and fluffy! Maybe you can do one about mom’s bump popping up one morning and Quinn is like mesmerized, realizes that a baby is coming and his life is going to change. But he’s so happy. Only if you want to write this. Have fun in NYC!

The hoodie slipped from his hands, forgotten, as Quinn froze in the doorway, caught in the quiet spell of the moment. His breath stilled, his gaze fixed on you — on the reflection of you in the mirror, framed by the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains. You were standing there, one hand resting on the curve of your belly, your fingers brushing over it in a way that was both casual and deliberate.

But it wasn’t the same curve he’d kissed goodnight the evening before. This was new, different.

His eyes traced the line of your profile, lingering on the now unmistakable swell of your stomach. It wasn’t just a gentle hint anymore, not the subtle softness he’d grown accustomed to seeing. It was undeniable, defined. A bump.

His bump. His baby.

Quinn’s arms hung at his sides, his hoodie now pooled in the chair behind him as his brain worked to catch up with his eyes. For a long beat, he just stared, unmoving, as the weight of it hit him all at once. His chest tightened, his heart thrumming in a rhythm he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t panic, not fear, but bigger — something that was overwhelming in its tenderness. Awe, maybe. Or reverence. A sense of this is real that felt too massive for his chest to hold.

He tilted his head slightly, as if looking from a different angle might somehow soften the impact, but it didn’t. If anything, it deepened it.

His gaze dropped to your hand, the way your palm smoothed over the firm swell like it was second nature now. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been holding his breath until he let it out, slow and shaky, his hands flexing at his sides. There was no mistaking it anymore — this was real. Tangible. The tiny life that had been nothing but whispers and plans and grainy black-and-white ultrasound images was suddenly here, making its presence known.

You glanced up in the mirror, your eyes catching his reflection, and Quinn’s heart twisted. You looked at him like you always did — a soft affection that grounded him — but now there was something else. Something unspoken, something shared. Something that said, can you believe this?

He stepped closer without even realising, the movement automatic, like gravity was pulling him to you. His hand reached out instinctively, tentative at first, brushing against the curve of your belly before settling there fully. His palm was warm, steady, fingers spreading slightly as if to take it all in. The bump was firm, more defined than he’d expected, and the simple touch made everything feel sharper, clearer.

“This is new,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion, almost as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile intimacy of the moment.

“It wasn’t like this yesterday,” you replied softly, your voice carrying the same quiet awe that was written all over your face.

“No,” he agreed, his thumb sweeping in a slow arc along the edge of your belly. “It wasn’t.”

For the first time, it wasn’t just an abstract thought in the back of his mind. It wasn’t just appointments or plans or future names whispered in the dark. It was right here, under his hand. The tiny, growing life you’d made together, tucked safely between the two of you.

His gaze flicked back up to yours, his eyes soft and bright with something unspoken. Pride, maybe, and then his lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile.

“That’s… really our baby,” he said, the words tumbling out like a confession, as though saying them aloud might help him fully believe it.

“Really our baby,” you echoed, and the way you said it, so soft but so certain, nearly unraveled him.

Quinn’s thumb brushed over your skin again, slower this time, more deliberate, as if tethering himself in the moment. He didn’t let go, didn’t even think about moving. His fingers flexed gently against you, holding on as though the world might tip if he didn’t anchor himself to this — to you.

He exhaled quietly, his voice dropping even lower as his gaze flicked back to your bump.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” he murmurs. “To you. To seeing you like this.” His voice caught slightly, and his eyes softened even further as they roamed the swell of your stomach, his hands cradling it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you — off the way your body had changed, the way it was carrying something that was a part of both of you. It hit him all at once, an overwhelming wave of awe that nearly stole his breath. The guys had joked about this, their faces lighting up in a way that always seemed a little exaggerated when they said there was nothing more attractive than seeing your partner pregnant with your child. He’d brushed it off at the time, but standing here now, he finally understood. You were stunning, and it wasn’t just how you looked — it was what it meant. What you were doing.

He kept those thoughts to himself, too raw and vulnerable to say aloud, but they lingered, stirring in the quiet space between you.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he said instead, the words escaping before he could stop them. He didn’t need to elaborate — everything he felt was in the way he looked at you, his eyes soft, his expression completely open.

The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten, a warmth rising in your chest that had nothing to do with hormones. He saw it immediately — the way your eyes glossed just slightly, your lips pressing together as if to hold back an overflow of emotion. You stared down at the curve of your belly, your hand resting over his, grounding yourself in the moment.

Quinn’s heart clenched at the sight. He hadn’t meant to make you cry, but the way your reaction softened your entire expression made his chest ache in the best way. His fingers flexed gently against your stomach again, his thumb brushing over your skin in a slow, steady rhythm, his way of silently telling you that he was right here.

Your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say something but weren’t quite ready, and he stayed quiet, giving you the space to find the words.

“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” you whispered finally, your voice carrying a quiet awe that made his breath catch.

He paused for just a moment, watching the way your gaze lingered on your belly, before answering.

“It’s real,” he said, almost to himself, as if to convince the last part of him that still couldn’t quite believe it. His fingers pressed a little more firmly, cradling the swell of your stomach with the same care he might handle something sacred. “It’s us. Right here.”

He could see the ripple of emotion in your expression, the way your chest rose in a deep, steadying breath. The way your hand tightened over his for just a second, like you needed him to hold you in the moment.

When your eyes finally met his, the look you gave him stopped him in his tracks. It was full of wonder, gratitude, and a love so profound it stole the breath from his lungs. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t do anything but hope that you saw everything reflected back in his gaze: the wonder, the love, the quiet, unshakable resolve that whatever came next, he’d be there — every step, every breath. For you. For the tiny life between you. For all of it.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[disgustingtwitches]

"Brown skin, pretty brown eyes"

1.6k words

Gaz x Brown Reader (´⌣`ʃƪ) just makes me swing my feet in the air thinking about it

[Unprotected sex, creampie, praise, afab reader]

MDNI

You'd see him sporadically. He'd show up for a while; then he'd disappear for weeks or even months. Then he'd come back, sit at the same spot, and order the same thing,

"Just the usual with white wine please."

He kind of had a boujee energy, but when he'd hand you the menu and say:

"Thank you, darling."

He'd smile at you in a way that said, I'll bend you over the table right now if you ask nicely.

"Of course, love."

You'd smile back in a way that screamed, Please, please, please do it.

You'd wonder who'd make the first move. Christ, it's been nothing but pussyfooting for about two years now. Pretty boy like him probably wanted you to beg for his number. You almost caved at the beginning, but now it's a stupid competition. Your pride versus his ego.

One day he came in with a friend; some fidgety, chatty, Scottish thing. Shook the whole table when he bounced his leg. Smiled so brightly it was like staring into the sun. They jabbered the whole time they picked at their lunch. Occasionally, the Scotsman would look back at you with a goofy grin before turning back to his plate. As soon as you set the cheque down, they both reached for it. His friend was faster though, laughing and paying for the both of them. You rang him up and brought back his card.

"Thank you for coming, always a pleasure to see you."

You avoided eye contact in fear of melting into a puddle infront of him and his friend.

"Same to you."

He nodded. His friend oohed as you walked away, that earned him a shush and punch on the arm.

"Lovely place ye got here, take care!"

The mohawked man waved as he was ushered (shoved) out the door, pretty boy looked back and flashed that smile that made your knees buckle. You cleared the table and looked at the receipt. It was hard to make out, but it read:

Such a honour to finally meet the missus,

(020) 7946 0801

For the next few days while you were getting ready, you'd look at the paper taped up to corner of your mirror. Everyday pretty boy would come in with the same song and dance; same order, same coy looks, same touch when he passed back the menu. Friday rolled around and you were sitting home, mindlessly watching some dramedy about medical malpractice and nursing a bottle of rosé. Fuck it, you said to yourself while picking up the phone. Brrr brrr...brrr brrr...brr-

"Hello?"

There was that deliciously familiar voice. Your stomach did flips.

"Yes, hello... It's uh-"

"The waitress from Hawksmoor."

There's a moment of silence, like you both can't believe this is happening.

"I got your number from your friend, he left it on his receipt."

"Yeah, of course he did..."

You heard some hushed gibberish. You think this is a mistake.

"I'm sorry if I-"

"No, no! I'm just -shutthefuckup- I'm just watching the game with a friend right now."

You can hear a recognizable Scottish accent coming through the speaker of your phone.

"I never caught your name."

Unlike his friend, pretty boy always left cash. So you couldn't creep and read the name on the card like you did with, what was it? MacTavish?

"Kyle. Kyle Garrick."

You repeated the name, giving it a swirl around your mouth like a wine, testing the mouthfeel. Thinking about how moanable it is. Wondering if you should take his last name or hyphenate the both of yours. There's some muffled conversation from the other end, his voice came back on the line, snapping you out of your daydream.

"Would you like to go out for drinks tomorrow?"

Your heart raced.

"Yeah tomorrow's perfect."

He wished you a goodnight and it was like you were hearing the words for the first time, sounded like a song. Then you heard the word parroted in a brash Glaswegian accent in the background. Click.

~

The date started off a little awkward, two years of nothing more than a few rehearsed lines made it hard to think of other things to say. Well... you could share what's been on both your minds this whole time, but you have to work up to those kinds of things. You learn that he's in the military, just turned thirty, currently lives in Soho. Sun and moon in Leo. Likes wine. Watches romcoms even though the corny jokes makes him cringe. Likes to travel. He'd ask a lot of questions about you too; lean in and smirk whenever you'd go on a little rant about yourself. As the evening went on, the place started getting busy and it got louder and louder until you were talking directly in each other's ears. He was wearing something that smelled divine. And expensive. Sweet vanilla, with a touch of leather and cedar. You could just lick it off his neck right now if he'd let you.

"It's getting loud here, should we go somewhere quieter?"

His breath warm on your neck, hand resting lightly on your knee. You were at his place as soon as you brought up the idea. He conveniently picked a bar less than a minute away from his flat. It was warm, cozy, lived in. Knickknacks on shelves, books on the coffee table, the comforting scent of his cologne filled the room; this was his sanctuary.

"Your choice, love."

He looked at you while you both sat on the opposite end of the huge couch. You landed on Roman Holiday, it was just something nice to put on in the background. You barely paid attention to the movie while you and him slowly got closer, scooting more and more until you were touching knees. One hand slipped into another. One head leaned on the other. One arm wrapped around a shoulder. One pair of lips softly meets the other. One shirt slipped onto the floor, then one more joins it. Pants followed. His touch was so gentle when sliding off your panties. His eyes went wide and staring at your glistening folds,

"Got myself something real pretty, hm?"

He dove into your heat with pent up passion. Moaned while his mouth was sealed around your nub, the vibrations sending chills up your thighs. It felt so good, you rolled your eyes back,

"Eyes on me, love."

He looked up at you with those big warm eyes. He straightened up with your legs still on his shoulders, pushing your hips up to his face. He took long, show licks from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly and quickly, repeating the movement until you squirmed and begged to get fucked. He flashes his perfect teeth at you while he leaned over, giving you a wet kiss letting you taste yourself. He pulls down his boxers, his dick was just as pretty as the rest of him; thick, veiny, precum glossy on a tip that is a lighter shade than the rest of him, he even had a cute little beauty mark on his shaft. With one leg over his shoulder, he lined himself up. Eased himself into you, hips stuttering when you took him to the base.

"Good fucking girl."

He'd coo while taking long, slow strokes. Teasingly slow. You begged for him to go faster. His dick jumps inside you when he hears that.

"Mhm, just use your words love."

He leaned back, placing his hands on your soft mound, using his thumbs to expose your clit. Soft groans escaped him while watching your reactions to him brushing over it. Looking down at himself sliding in and out of you he'd say,

"That's my pretty brown girl, yeah?"

Grips your hips and starts pounding into you. While you whimpered whenever he'd kiss his tip to your cervix, he praises how perfect your nipples looked firm and bouncing from each stroke.

"Fucking perfect... Unbelievable..."

He'd paw and knead your chest, leaning forward and pressing desperate kisses all over your face.

"Look down,"

He pants, pushing the back of your head forward so you're watching him fuck you, foreheads touching.

"See how nice we look together, yeah?"

He'd go on to make you cum so many times you'd lose track of how many orgasms you had. One after another, over and over until you saw stars.

"Just one more, I promise. You got one more in you, right darling?"

He'd slow down, seemingly talking to your sopping wet cunt,

"Can I please finish here? Right here feels so good."

Cum drunk and senseless, you beg to feel him finish inside you. He wraps you up in his strong arms tightly, his lips pressed up right up on your neck, right under your ear.

"Little piece of heaven you are. My fucking little brown angel, yeah? My perfect fuckin-"

He'd bury his face into the couch while moaning, pumping deep inside you. Once his dick stops twitching, he covers you in kisses, singing praises between them.

"Took me so well...such a good girl...made me so proud."

He wipes you down with a warm towel before carrying you to bed. Fucked out, you're already sleeping before he slides in bed next to you. The next morning, you wake up to light kisses and bites trailing down your chest and stomach, stopping right above your nub. Those adoring brown eyes looking up at yours while sticking his tongue out and flicking it against you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, sinking fingers into the soft flesh.

"Made just for me, no one else... Only for me... Gorgeous, gorgeous girl..."

He'd say between licks. Thank God you had today off.

[copepods]

butch tubbo. goodnight

[id: a drawing of c!tubbo over a light brown background. he’s bent over a wooden worktable, one hand resting on his hip. he’s sweating and tired, but smiling. he’s wearing a white tank top with a decal showing a trout and “showchester natl ice fishing champ 2021″, over a black binder. he’s also wearing faded jeans with a belt and carabiner with keys, as well as a pouch with a tape measure attached and a pride flag patch. a pair of yellow safety goggles is pushed up to his hairline. on the worktable are an open can, a flashlight, and a drill. end id]

[hindahoney]

If you want to code-switch so often that you are nearly incomprehensible to goyim, here is a list of my favorite and most-used Jewish terms:

Schvitzing - Sweating. (Ex: "I'm schvitzing so much it's showing through my clothes.")

Schlep - A tedious and long journey, depending on usage it can mean that you were carrying something. (Ex: "I had to schlep all the way across campus, my backpack was so heavy." Usually denotes a long walk, but other forms of transportation are acceptable too. "You drove all the way to New York from Florida? That's quite the shlep.")

Shtati - Something really cool. (Ex: "I visited my friend's place and they had a shtati mezuzah!")

Neshama - Soul. (Ex: "Mazel tov on your conversion, you have such a strong Jewish neshama!")

Balagan - A big mess, chaotic, confusing (Ex: "Moshe forgot to bring challah for shabbat dinner, and it turned into this big balagan")

Achi/Achoti - "Achi" literally means "my brother," but can also be used like bro or dude, "achoti" is the feminine equivalent meaning "sister"

Yalla - Come on, let's go (Ex: "Yalla yalla, you're going to make us late again")

Mishpacha - Family. Doesn't have to be literal blood relatives, usually a sign of warmth or friendship. (Ex: "I care about every Jew, they're all my mishpacha.")

Pshhh - Interjection sound, to express respect or agreement with what someone is saying, but can also be playfully poking fun at someone taking themselves too seriously, can be used sarcastically.

Achla - amazing, awesome, great, the best (Ex: "You graduated from university? Achla!")

Sheina Punem (Shayna Punim) - Pretty face (Ex: My bubbe kept pinching my cheeks and calling me a sheina punem) Can be used ironically, in which case it means "a disgrace."

Ahavat Yisrael - to love your fellow Jew (Ex: "I firmly believe in ahavat yisrael, even if it's hard sometimes.")

Schande - Shame, dishonor among the nations, meaning a Jew who represents Jews badly, a serious insult. (Ex: "He's a schande, he feeds into antisemitic stereotypes.")

Schmutz - Dirt, stain. (Ex: "Use your napkin, you've got schmutz on your face.")

Amalek - Any enemy of the Jewish people. ("[Fill in blank] is the modern Amalek, they hate the Jews.")

Lanceman/Landsmen - Two jews from the same place, a point of connection between two Jews who now live far away from their hometown. (Ex: "Your grandma is from Crown Heights? Mine too, our grandparents are landsmen!")

Goyisch - Something not Jewish (Ex: "I don't listen to Taylor Swift, her music is too goyisch for me.")

Goyischekop/Goyische-kop - Goyisch head, a jew who thinks/sounds like a non-jew. (Ex: "How could you say about your fellow Jew? Do you have a goyische-kop or something?")

Kindaleh/Kinderlach - Little children (Ex: "I passed by the school and saw the kindaleh on the playground, they're so cute!")

Chamud/Chamuda/Chamudi - Sweetie, cutie, usually aimed at children, but can be a term of endearment between a couple. Can be condescending when said rudely to another adult, like "Sweetheart" can be in English. (ex: "Goodnight, Chamudi. I can't wait to see you tomorrow.")

Daven - to pray ("Are you going to join us for davening?")

Frum - A religiously observant Jew. ("He's frum, he davens three times a day.")

Treif - Unkosher, generally something not good, doesn't have to literally refer to a food. ("I trained my dog to stop barking when I say 'treif!'.")

Bubkis - Zero, nothing, nada ("Moshe got a gift from bubbe and I got bubkis.")

Kvetch - To complain ("I'm just kvetching, I'm not that upset about it.")

Kvell - Extreme pride. ("I heard your daughter made it into her top school, you must be kvelling!")

Mensch - A good, admirable person. ("He volunteers every week, he's a mensch.")

Chillul HaShem - Disgracing God's name, someone who does something that makes Jews look bad.

Kiddush HaShem - Something that sanctifies God's name, brings honor to God. ("I love seeing you wear a kippah, it's a kiddush HaShem!")

Bubbe meise - Little white lies ("He told his teacher a bubbe meise about his dog eating his homework.")

I should acknowledge that these are mostly Yiddish words, as my experience is primarily with Ashkenazi Jews. If you would like to add common slang from your community (like Ladino phrases, Judeo-Arabic, Italki, etc) I would love to learn about them!

[avocado-writing]

I will forfeit all my worldly possessions for some gortash nsfw, you’re amazing keep up the good work!

cws: hate sex. gn!reader x gortash. enjoy!

you fucking hate him. oh, you hate him.

you make sure he knows it every time you run your nails down his back, rake them, really; leaving hot red welts in their wake. you want him to cry out in pain. instead he hisses in pleasure and buries himself in your further.

it is delicious. it is torture. it is heavenly.

when he’d suggested you’d work together, you’d swallowed your pride and done it for the good of baldur’s gate. the people loved him after all, even if it was all due to his campaign of faux grandeur. ‘a man of the people’. as if. if he was in a lineup and you had to choose the person who you thought had crawled out of the hells, you’d pick him every single time.

but still, despite it all, despite his devilish upbringing and baneite loyalties, there was a bigger enemy to face, and he was a powerful ally.

so ally you did.

it started off innocent enough, him calling meetings with you, just you. strategising, he reasoned. no point in not sharing information. you looked at him with disdain over his map of the city, he just arched a brow.

you hated yourself for having a reaction to it, burning white hot in the pit of your stomach. a mix of rage and lust. when everyone was asleep that night at the elfsong, you shoved your hand between your legs to ease the pressure he had built up, cursing him as you came.

his honeyed words dripped on you. dulled your senses to the lurid colours of his purulent personality. he was evil. viciously so. no good to be next to in the long run.

yet when he hooked the finger of his gauntlet under your chin and brought you in for a kiss, you did not pull away. you met his challenge head on. you teethed at his tongue when it slipped between your lips. you wanted him to know you’d take what you needed from him and hate him as you went. he wanted you to know he didn’t care and would enjoy it anyway.

and now: this.

his hand slipping up your thigh during your meeting until he cups your sex. you near-snarling in return and ripping at his fine clothes, hungering for the meat of his body. you are no aesthete. there is no use in pretending you care about what your tear away - he surely has the best tailors in this city at his beck and call, and it goes some way to soothing your wounded ego when his gown is in scraps from your ardour.

and it is wounded, of course, because you debase yourself like this.

he sits you on top of the map of the city, lays you out over it, and fucks you. there’s a poetry to your bodies combining on top of your shared home. he thrusts and you growl in the back of your throat, smothering his smug smile by forcing him into a near-violent kiss. hate him. you hate him.

his cock slides into your body, thick and hard, and despite your better judgement there is a little thrill in knowing that you get this powerful man to have such a reaction. that the roseate of his cheeks and heave of his chest is because he desires you with his whole being. you purr when his head dips between your legs and he ravishes you with his tongue, just as clever when it fucks as it is when he speaks.

you want to take him apart piece by piece. as he thrusts down into you, dark and dangerous eyes boring into yours without missing a beat, you know he wants to do the exact same in return. reduce you both to parts. jigsaw them together and let the combination of the two of you rule this city, rule the brain, rule the world.

every time you couple, you let yourself get lost in the idea of it for just a moment. the idea of him. the idea of him and you.

but when it is over and you are both sated, your mind and sense return. you cannot trust this man, even after he has been inside of you, when he knows the most intimate etchings of your soul.

so you bid him goodnight, and no more. he is once again an enemy held as close as a friend.

“until next time,” says Gortash with an easy smile, and you want to tell him there will be no ‘next time’ - but it would be a lie neither of you would believe.

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Santorini Serenity

pairing: Jacaerys x aunt reader

summary: The Targaryen and Valeryon family went on a vacation, how will it go?

Word count: 3,3K

Warnings: groping, smut, Fingering, Handjob, Dry humping

The azure waters of the Aegean Sea shimmered under the midday sun as the Velaryon family disembarked from their private yacht onto the picturesque island of Santorini. It was a rare occasion for the family to come together for a trip, and Jacaerys Velaryon, with his striking Valyrian features, stood at the center of it all. His aunt, Daelys, watched him from a distance, feeling a mix of pride and curiosity.

As the family settled into their luxurious villa overlooking the caldera, it became apparent that some rooms needed to be shared. Jacaerys, a man of grace and charm even in modern times, found himself assigned to the same room as Daelys. Their eyes met, and they exchanged polite smiles, though they hadn’t spent much time together before this trip.

The room was adorned with minimalist Greek decor, with white walls, splashes of cobalt blue, and large windows that framed the breathtaking view of the sea. It was spacious but cozy, with a sense of tranquility that contrasted with the hustle and bustle of their daily lives.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, Jacaerys and Daelys sat on the room’s balcony, sipping on glasses of local wine. The gentle sound of waves lapping against the cliffs below created a soothing background.

Jacaerys broke the silence, his voice carrying a trace of his Valyrian accent. “It’s quite something, isn’t it? This view.”

Daelys nodded, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “Absolutely. I’ve seen many places, but Santorini is unlike any other.”

As the evening deepened, conversation flowed effortlessly between them. They talked about their lives, their dreams, and shared anecdotes about their family. Jacaerys revealed a more relaxed side, free from the responsibilities that usually weighed on him. Daelys listened intently, appreciating the chance to get to know her nephew better.

As the moon cast its silvery glow upon them, Jacaerys looked at Daelys, his eyes reflecting the lunar light. “You know, I’ve never had a chance to spend time with family like this. It’s been…unexpectedly wonderful.”

Daelys smiled warmly. “I agree. Sometimes, it takes a change of scenery to bring people closer together.”

Their hands brushed lightly as they reached for the last pieces of baklava on a shared plate, sending a subtle jolt of electricity between them. It was a moment of unspoken understanding, and the connection between aunt and nephew deepened under the Grecian stars.

After finishing their wine and savoring the last moments on the balcony, Daelys and Jacaerys exchanged sleepy smiles. The Mediterranean breeze carried the scent of the sea, lulling them into a sense of tranquility. They bid each other goodnight and retreated to their separate beds.

The room was cast in a soft, ambient glow from the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Daelys slipped under the crisp, cool sheets of her bed, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. She couldn’t help but think about the day’s conversations and how she was getting to know her nephew in a way she never had before.

Jacaerys settled into his own bed, his thoughts filled with the enchanting beauty of Santorini and the unexpected connection he had formed with Daelys. He stared up at the ceiling, pondering the complexities of family dynamics and the mysteries that had yet to be uncovered during their trip.

Daelys shifted in her bed feeling a little uncomfortable, she always found it hard to sleep at least the first night after changing her sleeping arrangements, she is the type that got used and adapt fast but the first night was always the hardest.

Jace on the other hand could not for the life of him understand why he couldn't just bring his bed on vacations, he can never adapt no matter what. Hearing Daelys shift gave him some hope that she too was awake and may keep him some company. He turned on his side to look at her, the sight of her made him suck in a breath.

She had one of her legs out of the blanket, something that was globally famous for keeping someone cool but not too cool like it would if they removed the blanket entirely. She was still in her shoty satin shorts and matching tanktop. She was facing away from him giving him a full view of the rilling up short showing the bottom half of her behind.

Jace could feel himself growing hard under his shorts. He knew his was wrong, Daelys was his aunt for god's sake, he cannot think of her this way. He gulped when she shifted yet again trying to get comfortable, popping her behind even more.

"Daelys" He hissed unconsciously. She tensed up for a second before relaxing again as if she forgot that he was in the room with her.

"Hmm" Was her answer. She didn't want to speak up feeling that if she did she would ruin the incoming cloud of sleepiness she's been chasing for a while now.

"C-can I join you in bed?" Jace asked. He felt like an idiot when she didn't give an answer for a second.

"What for? Are you afraid of the dark, Jacey?" She teased. Her voice sounding almost hoarse, a sound between sleepy and awake. Jace gulped, she just sounded so freaking hot. The waves from her voice went straight down to his cock.

"No, I just- nevermind" Jace feeling ashamed moved to turn his back to her like she has done this entire time.

"Come here" She scoffed. Jace sat up faster than lightning shocked. He found her twisted awkwardly to look at him. She patted the space by her side where there was barely space for him to fit, the beds were tiny after all.

"You sure?" Jace asked. He was already peeling off the very thin blanket. His bare feet touched the tile floor feeling them to be a little cool which sent a shiver of relief through his body. He hoped she could not see the bulge forming in his shorts.

"Just come here" She demanded annoyed. She turned to face the wall again. Jace scrambled to lay behind her on his side so he wouldn't fall off the bed.

She threw a small section of the blanket over his stomach but not enough to cover his legs at all. Her leg was still out of the blanket for some kind of temperature balance. She shifted a little again to get comfortable only for her behind to brush against his very obvious hard on.

Jace froze and waited for her reaction, she did not react for a couple of minutes giving Jace false hope that she did not feel it. Daelys unknown to Jace smirked behind her hand before shifting again rubbing her behind against his cock.

"Stop moving" he begged, almost whining. She ignored him and moved more again. This time she did not try to hide the fact that she wanted to feel him. Jace tried to move away but there was no space.

"Maybe I should move back-" Jace wasn't able to finish his sentence before she twisted around to face him. His eyes widened when her lag snapped out of the blanket and wrapped around his waist. Now the blanket was pushed to behind her and in front of the wall instead.

"Why are you running away, Jacey?" Daelys pouted. She used the leg around his waist to pull him closer. Jace gulped feeling her heat against his groin. She was warm, he didn't know if she was truly warm feeling no skin.

"I-I I am n-not running away! Jace explained. She smirked, she moved her hips rubbing against him. This time with the closer contact it earned a moan from him.

"Stop it, you are my aunt" Jacaerys hissed angrily. One of her hands moved up to grab his hair and pulled his head back to expose his neck to her. She moved closer to his neck and kissed his neck, light pecks but they resulted in goosebumps all over his skin.

"Daelys" Jace moaned, she continued the movement of her hips. "Stop" He begged, almost sounding like he was crying. His cock has never been this hard before in his life.

"Jacey" Daelys moaned, against his throat. Jace wrapped an arm around her waist with the full intention of pushing her away only for his body to betray him and pull her in instead.

"I can't put it in" Jace groaned. He pulled his hair out of her hand and looked down at her. Daelys pouted but nodded her head anyways.

He smirked slightly gaining back some control. His hand moved from her waist back to her back feeling her spine up to her neck and back down, touching each and every vertebrae on her back. She shivered in his arms quickening the movement of her hips.

"Jace" She whispered, breathless, she was feeling the effect of her rubbing in her lower parts. She was getting wet, she was more than wet at this point.

"Shh" Jace was quick to shush her. His hand reached the hem of her shorts and slid inside. He did not pull them down instead opted to moves his hand over the flesh of her ass under the silk.

"No undies? Dirty auntie" Jace giggled in her ear. She smirked and bit his neck, Jace groaned at the feeling. "No marks" He warned. She nodded and let go of his skin and licked over it to soothe the skin there.

Jace's hand wandered over her smooth skin, grabbing a handful of her ass. Daelys moaned at the tight grip and rocked her hips with difficulty as he held the flesh preventing any movement.

"Jace, please" She pleaded. Jace shushed her again and moved his hand between the ass cheeks.

He continued wandering until he founded her sopping hole. She gasped at the feeling of his fingers touching her for the first time ever. Her nephew was running his fingers up and down her slit, a thought that has never occured to her let alone for her to live through it.

Jace felt bravery surge into him and he pushed a finger inside. She shivered at the prodding. So he pushed a second finger inside, she was no virgin he knew. He knew from all the guys she brought home. All the guys he watched her make out with. One will never leave his mind though, Artor Clegane, a man, not a boy, but a man who was like 6'2 feet tall she reached his below his shoulder, he played american football and he once heard them having sex. He knows that Artor must have hurt her, no way a man his size and a girl her size could have painless sex, but she always had a stupid smile on her face when she was with him until he of course cheated.

"Fuck" She whined, with Jace no longer holding her flesh she was able to move her hips again. hey created a rhythm of movement. His finger moved in and out curling inside of her in search of that soft spot that made her head go blank, in the process getting her wet.

"Good" She giggled. A gasp tore through her lips when he finally found that spot, hidden inside of her velvet walls. The second he touched it her movement grew more desperate, the bed was beginning to move at this point.

"Is that it, auntie?" Jace teased, curling his fingers again to touch that spot. She let out a loud cry at the feeling. His free hand snapped up to cover her mouth. He added a third finger, he could probably push his entire hand inside and she wouldn't complain.

"Fuck...yes yes yes" She cried against his palm. Jace pulled his hand out of her earning a moan of disappointment from her. He pushed her to lay on her back instead.

He moved between her legs and pulled her shorts down harshly, probably ripping at least a small piece of them. He did not waist another second to push his finger back inside of her. This time her hole was low on the bed, so he wrapped his free arm under her to pull her hips to the level of his own. He started rocking again, imagining that his fingers was his cock inside of her instead.

"mmmgods" Her thighs tensed up. The inside of her thighs was fully coated in her slick, if someone saw it they would think she had pissed herself.

"Such a whore" Jacaerys smirked. He found it funny how she thought she was the one in control minutes ago when she rubbed herself against him. He was merely being a gentleman like his mother taught him, she made him snap, not many could do that, in fact only one woman can do that, Sara Snow.

"yes, whore, y-your whore" She threw her head back feeling her orgasm closing in on her. Jacaerys quickened his pace wanting feel her cum on his fingers, the only thing he can push inside of her, maybe he push his tongue too someday but never his cock, he wished he could push his cock inside of. If only she wasn't his aunt.

"Cumming" She warned. Her hand snapped up to the headboard to brace herself. She was sure that the people in the room beside theirs could at least hear the banging against the wall, she hoped it's not someone they knew, she couldn't remember who was near their room and who wasn't. Was it Rhaenyra and Laenor? Were they in the room beside them? Was it Lucaerys and Joffery? she hoped no, Luce maybe an adult but Joffery was nowhere near there.

"Fuck me" She cried, her back arching as her whole body spasmed. The orgasm ran from the roots of her hair down to the very edge of her toes. Thighs shaking, arms shaking, whole body was shaking. Jace smirked watching her cum on his fingers, sensing her walls beginning to get too tight around his fingers he pulled them out not wanting to hurt her. He slowly set her hips down on the bed. Watching her blissed out face, eyes rolled back into the back of her head, as she laid on the pillow.

"Fucking hell" She whispered. Slowly gaining consciousness again, she truly felt like she lost her consciousness for a second.

"Was that good?" Jace asked. His palms running up her thighs to her mound rubbing her clit, her body jerked back but welcomed the touch as it soothed her. The buzz of the orgasm she just had did not have time to shimmer away before coming back.

"Oh fuck, very good" She whined. Her body moving between jerking away from his touch to chasing it. It was like her body had a mind of it's own, one second it was too sensitive for his touch, the second it chased his touch growing hungry for it in a second.

"Good good? or just good?" Jace smirked, moving his thumb faster. Her back arched off the bed, thighs beginning to tremble again. She hadn't come down fully from her orgasm yet and he was building a new one out of her.

"Good good" She cried. Her body went into a full shock as his thumb swiped with a new pressure. Her eyes were getting wet and tears soon were falling down her face. She wanted more, needed more.

She sat up, and held his hand in place between her legs. Jace smirked down at her moving his thumb, not needing her to tell him to know she was close already. "Don't you dare stop" She threatened. She looked ridiculous, glaring at him with tears running down her cheeks. Mouth falling open with pleasure, eyes fighting hard to keep open.

"Shit yes" She fell back on the bed as her orgasm crashed through her. Jace pulled his thumb away when she began jerking away from his touch fully. He even seized touching her all together not wanting to overwhelm her.

She opened her eyes slowly and watched him. He was watching her closely, watching her reactions. Watching to see if she was alright and that alone made her want to jump his bones but she can't he was her nephew. Her eyes trailed down to his shorts, a tent was obvious where his cock was, a little of her slick had gotten on it as well.

"Lay down" She ordered patting beside her. She moved onto her side, with a little difficulty finding herself exhausted from the mind blowing orgasms he gave her.

Jace obeyed her ordered. He watched her as she moved to push down his shorts and boxers just enough to pull out his cock. Her hand wrapped around his girth feeling his weight in her hand for the first time, he saw the surprise on her face at his size and it feuled his ego.

"Rub it" He hissed, growing impatient. Daelys did not need to be told twice. She began moving her hand up and down slowly at first, wanting him to get used to her touch.

Jacaerys gulped at the feeling of her soft hand moving up and down his shaft. Something he alone did, he never was brave enough to ask a partner to give him a handjob. Even Sara Snow. Yes she did give him the occasional blowjob now and then but it was like she was challenging herself with his length she tried to fit him in her mouth barely any use of her hands.

"Shit" He clenched his thighs together when she moved to use her other hand as well. She cupped his balls, having to pinch his thighs to get him to open them again to give her access to them. They were heavy and big, filled with cum for her.

She smirked as she gained more speed in her movement. Jace slapped a hand on his mouth to muffle his sounds. He whined and cried with each touch. She moved her thumb, swiping it over the small slit on the reddened top of his cock.

He was beautiful, big with heavy balls, with a singular vein on the left side of his cock. She admired his cock, one of the biggest she had seen, she wished that she could have it inside of her but that was not possible, she was his aunt, they cannot have sex, or penetration at least.

"I'm gonna cum" He cried, or more like whisper-shouted after a couple of minutes. At least he didn't last two minutes like most men. She knew he would be able to pull at least two orgasms from her with his stamina, if only she could put it inside.

"Cum, Jacey" She whispered into his ear. A moan like sound left her throat and straight into his ear. His mouth fell open and his eyes closed. She watched as white pearly drops sprouted out of his tip. His cum was all over his stomach, up to his abs.

He cried from overstimulation as she resumed her movement earning a couple more drops, his cock twitching in her palm. She let him go eyes wide, and curious. He was barely able to open his eyes only to find her on her belly near his with her tongue out.

"Shit" He cursed when her tongue touched his stomach, collecting his spend and tasting it. Her eyes raised to look at him with a smirk.

"Salty" She joked scrunching her nose. Jace slapped both of his hands on his face to stop himself from laughing, his aunt found it in herself to joke when they were in this situation.

"Fucking hell" He moved his hands away from his face when she dropped beside him on the bed again. He couldn't even look at her. Lucaerys and Joffery were in the room beside their, did they hear? How is he supposed to face either of them ever again?

[kteezy997]

the director's daughter-part one//t.c.

this is going to be a revision of the story I originally wrote and posted on Wattpad but got deleted. Luckily, my Beta has it saved for me<33

Warnings: cursing, yearning/sexual tension

While shooting a new movie, Timothee Chalamet was staying at the home of the film's director, Colleen, along with his costars, Florence Pugh and Zendaya, as well as Zendaya's boyfriend, Tom Holland. After getting off their plane, Colleen's driver brought them to a massive, modern-styled mansion.

Upon entering the house with their luggage, they were all greeted by the lovely Colleen, who gave them a quick tour of her large home and assigned them their bedrooms.

Later that evening after everyone settled in, the director and the cast met in the living room to go over the shooting schedule. As they spoke of the coming weeks, they eventually heard some footsteps.

In walked a young woman wearing a white tank top and some trendy striped boxer shorts. She was seemingly so preoccupied with the AirPod Max headphones on her ears and the iPhone in her hands, that she didn't even notice the group of people sitting on the couches.

"Oh yes," Colleen piped up, "I almost forgot I had a daughter." she joked, speaking louder to get the attention of the young lady. "Y/n!"

Y/n was startled and jumped slightly at her mother's yelling voice. She removed her headphones, smiling awkwardly.

"Honey, you probably already know all of these people already, but, Timothee, Florence, Zendaya and Tom, meet my youngest child, y/n. She's twenty-two and she is also visiting me for the summer along with the rest of you."

"Wow, thanks for the marvelous introduction, Mother, but hey everyone, I'm y/n." she smiled kindly now to the other young adults.

The actors all raised from the couch, greeting y/n with hugs and sweet words. But it was different when Timothee stopped in front of her. She could see why the world, especially females, were so taken by his boyish good looks and his curly hair. She felt like those green eyes were seeing into her soul.

"Y/n." he said, giving her a soft smile and then hugging her.

She hugged Timothee, feeling the softness of the shirt on his back and taking in his sandalwood scent. As they both backed away from the hug, she said, "I didn't mean to interrupt, I was just going to grab some water and head up to my room. Goodnight everyone, it was great meeting you all." She parted to the kitchen with a wave of her hand.

Timothee could not get y/n out of his mind for the entire evening, not even as they all dispersed to go to bed. He laid awake for two hours that night, just letting his brain wander to repetitive thoughts about the mysterious young woman who just waltzed into his life.

The next morning, y/n took it upon herself to make breakfast for everyone, to kick off the summer. The cast members were in awe of the yummy smelling spread on the kitchen island she had put out for them. The entire household sat in the kitchen and had breakfast together.

"So, y/n, are you in college or..?" Florence asked, taking a piece of bacon from her plate and biting into it.

"Oh, no, I'm actually, well I was an Olympic diver." y/n answered.

"Oh that's so cool!" Tom said, "So do you have like medals and all that?"

"Yes, I've got three Gold and two Silver." she said, taking a bite of her waffle off of her fork.

"We never could keep her out of the water when she was little. And we are so proud of everything she's accomplished." Colleen said, the pride evident in her tone and she smiled.

"Hey, I knew I'd seen you before." Zendaya exclaimed looking at y/n, "You were in those Nike ads, right?"

"Yeah, they sponsored me for three years." y/n blushed, wiping her mouth shyly with her napkin. She wasn't used to being so recognized, especially not by someone as famous as Zendaya. As they continued the morning meal, y/n couldn't help but notice that Timothee was being much quieter than the others.

After breakfast, Colleen made an announcement: "Okay guys, we are heading to set today. I want you all to see the work being done and have an idea of what it is going to look like." She then looked at her daughter, "And I am trusting you to stay here by yourself and not break anything or burn the place down."

"Mother, I am twenty-two years old, I think I can handle it."

“Yeah, she did cook us breakfast and the house is still immaculate.” Florence pointed out, making the others giggle.

.......

Once everyone else had left, y/n showered and put on a little bit of makeup to go with her white lacy top and black jeans with the knees ripped to catch the summer breeze outside. She ventured out of the house to go to the art supplies store. She wanted to indulge her painting hobby.

It was a quick little shopping trip, the movie gang was still gone when she returned to the house. She went to her room upstairs and kicked her shoes off. She turned on her music, letting it blare through the speakers in her room as she set up her canvas.

After seeing the set, Zendaya, Tom, and Florence made plans to grab some food and then go grocery shopping afterwards. Colleen had a meeting to go to.

Timothee, however, opted to go back to the house instead of dinner, claiming that he didn't sleep well the night before and just wanted to relax.

Upon entering the mansion, he could hear the muffled music coming directly from y/n's room. He smirked to himself, shaking his head. He decided to get a shower and freshen up. It was one of those summer days where you started to sweat just by stepping outside.

After getting out of the shower, Timothee wrapped his towel around his waist. He stopped at y/n's room when he left the bathroom, intending to greet her and let her know that he was back. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. The music was so loud, she didn't even hear him enter her room. He stopped to watch her for a moment, she was painting, but also swaying her hips to "In the Night" by the Weeknd.

She slathered a bit of paint onto the canvas, did a twirl and squealed when she saw someone in the room with her. She nearly jumped out of her skin! "Timothee! What the fuck?! You scared the hell out of me, dude." She put her hand to her chest to still her raving heart.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to let you know that someone else was home, I didn't mean to scare you."

"How long have you been standing there, you creep?"

"Hey, I'm not a creep,” Timothée put his hands on his hips, “I only stepped in here for a second."

Y/n found herself distracted by the water beads streaming down his naked chest. "Um, okay. Where is everyone else?"

Timothee smirked, noticing her eyes scanning his chest. "Out."

"mm." she hummed, nodding.

"Is there anything you want from me?" he asked, daring.

She then shot her gaze up to his eyes, "What do you mean?"

"Look, we're both adults here. I see the way you're looking at me, and honestly, I want you too. Everyone else in the house is going to be out for hours. If you want me, I'm yours."

“But,” she shook her head in disbelief, “you didn’t say a word to me this morning.”

Timothée shrugged, “Yeah, I felt kind weird because I wasn’t sure if you were in to me. But now I’m pretty confident you are.”

She grinned, giggling, “Hmm, what makes you so sure?”

“Because you were just looking at me like you wanted to fuck my brains out.”

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