#sugary sweet interior

[pollenallergie]

Thinking about Eddie just showing up at your house unexpectedly, walking through the front door like he owns the place, and flopping down next to you on the couch before turning to you with the most somber expression he can possibly muster and simply saying something like, “I regret to inform you, my love, that my tummy hurts.” He’s completely serious as he says it too, delivering the line like he’s vying for a goddamn Oscar, despite it truly being nothing more than a thinly veiled attempt at getting you to rub his belly. How could you possibly say no to him? (Spoiler alert: you can’t, it’s impossible). <3

[writingwithfolklore]

Describing Foods - A Masterlist

                As a broke university student, I love reading about food. It’s almost like eating a real meal myself <3.

I get a little angry when characters are eating a meal and I barely get to experience it with them. In that, I mean I don’t just want to know what it is, but what it’s like to eat that food—how it tastes, smells, sounds, and feels. Is a perfect croissant still a perfect croissant without the crack of the exterior, the airiness of the pastry inside, the smell of yeast?

                Probably not. When writing about a dish, the smell, texture, technique, taste, and how it looks are all important to painting the experience, so here’s some words to use when describing a meal:

Taste:

Acidic: Sharp tasting. Often used to describe tart or sour foods as well.

Aftertaste: A different taste that remains in the mouth after eating something

Bitter: Tart, sharp, and sometimes harsh flavour.

Bittersweet: Less harsh than bitterness. Tartness + sweetness.

Bland: Has no significant flavor or texture

Briny: Just means salty. Often describes pickled foods.

Citrusy: Bright flavour like… well citrus fruits—oranges, lemons, limes, etc.

Cooling: Mimics that cooling feel—like mint.

Earthy: Reminiscent of soil. Can be used to describe wines, root vegetables, and mushrooms.

Fiery: Another word for spicy.

Fresh: Light and crisp—describes produce or herbs.

Fruity: Sweet and reminiscent of fruit.

Full-bodied: Rich and ‘feels heavy’ in your mouth. Can describe wines or soups.

Herbal: Bright, fresh, sometimes earthy from the presence of herbs

Honeyed: Sweet or candied taste like honey.

Nutty: Taste similar to the flavors of nuts. Often used to describe certain cheeses.

Rich: Full, heavy flavour. Often dishes that contain cream taste rich.

Robust: Rich + Earthy. Used for lots of wines or aged liquor.

Savory: Describes meaty, earthy dishes and soups.

Sharp: Harsh, bitter, or tart taste. Used to describe acidic foods.

Smoky: Reminiscent of the smell of smoke.

Sour: Biting, tangy, tart flavor.

Spicy: Burning taste.

Sweet: Sugary.

Tangy: Tart, biting taste—feels tingly

Tart: Sharp, bitter, or sour flavour. Used to describe acidic foods.

Woody: Earthy, sometimes nutty taste. Describes some coffees or cheeses.

Yeasty: Earthy taste reminiscent of yeast. Describes beer and bread.

Zesty: Fresh, vivid, or invigorating flavour.

Sound/Texture:

Sound has a lot to do with texture, so I've combined them for this section!

Airy: Light, pillowy texture (think inside of croissant)

Brittle: Hard but easy to break

Bubbly: Usually during heating, when bubbles rise to the surface—low sound.

Buttery: Smooth, creamy texture (think certain pasta sauces)

Chewy: Food that needs to be chewed thoroughly. Can be light and bouncy (chewy bread) or heavy (steak) and sticky (candy)

Creamy: A smooth and rich texture, comes from dairy.

Crispy: Light texture with slight crunch.

Crumbly: Food with loose structure that falls apart into crumbs.

Crunchy: Firm, crisp texture with a sharp, loud noise.

Crusty (behave): Food with a hard outer layer and soft interior (many loaves and breads)

Delicate: Light and fine, feels like it can come apart easily.

Doughy: Soft and heavy, usually pale colouring.

Fizzy: Usually liquids—a hissing sound, feels like ‘static’

Flaky: Light, characterized by layers that come apart during eating.

Fluffy: light and airy.

Frothy/Foamy: Airy bubbles, usually in a drink like a latte.

Gamey: Usually refers to meats when they’re very “meaty”

Gooey: Viscous, sometimes sticky texture from moisture in a dense/solid food.

Hearty: Firm, robust texture.

Juicy: Tender and succulent texture from liquid in a solid food (steak)

Molten: Hot, gooey

Oily: Slick, heavy, lingers on the tongue.

Silky: Fine, smooth texture that feels sleek.

Smooth: Texture free of grit, lumps, or edges.

Snap: A quick, sharp, crackling sound when broken.

Squelch: A soft sucking sound when pressure is applied. Somewhat gross.

Sticky: Gluiness in the mouth.

Succulent: Tender and juicy

Tender: Soft and easy to break down

Velvety: Smooth and rich

Smell:

Acrid: Strong, bitter, unpleasant

Comforting: pleasant, probably calls back to a nice memory

Damp: Wet smelling—probably a bit earthy

Delicate: subtle, faint, not overpowering

Earthy: reminiscent of soil

Fetid: Caused by decay—unpleasant

Fishy: reminiscent of fish

Floral/flowery: Reminiscent of flowers

Fragrant: Sweet or pleasing

Fresh: Cool, crisp, refreshing—produce, probably not cooked

Funky: Something’s gone off

Heady: Strong smell, pungent, rich

Musty: Not fresh

Perfumed: Pleasant, reminiscent of something (can be perfumed with citrus, say)

Piquant: stinging, pungent—tickles the nose

Powerful: strong

Rancid: Definitely gone off, decomposing

Ripe: Strong, usually unpleasant smell

Savory: spicy, salty, no elements of sweetness

Sour: has gone off

Spicy: Sharp, tingles the nose

Tangy: Strong and bitter but in a good way

Tart: Sharp

Woody: earthy smell, reminiscent of wood

Sight:

Usually texture gives us a really good picture of what a food looks like, so here’s some non-texture sight additions:

Blistered: Bumpy exterior.

Caramelized: Usually golden brown

Cloudy: Splotched. Almost see through if not for a slight white or grey mist.

Colourful: Bright and vibrant

Glassy: Resembling glass

Glossy: Smooth, shiny

Marbled: Two colours intertwined

Opaque: Not transparent. Can’t see through.

Ripe: Colourful (can be to a fault). Nearing the end of its edible state.

Scaly: Covered in scales, fish.

Shiny: Appears wet or glossy

Sparkling: Glimmers under the light

Stuffed: An ingredient placed inside a larger part with no additional space.

Translucent: Allows light through

Vibrant: Striking, bright

Food Prep:

How the food is prepared gives it these other attributes. If your character is familiar with cooking (or is the cook themselves!) they may describe food this way.

Baked: Cooked in an oven. Results in browned or crispy outer layer.

Blackened: When food is dipped in butter and coated with spices then cooked in a hot pan—spices darken, making it appear ‘blackened’

Blanched: Food scalded in boiling water and moved to cold water so it stops cooking. Texture comes out soft.

Braised: Food that is briefly fried in fat and then stewed in a pot. Results in seared, crispy exterior with a tender interior.

Breaded: Coated with breadcrumbs/batter then baked or fried so it turns crispy

Broiled: Food cooked with intense radiant heat in an oven or on the grill. Results in a darkened appearance and crispy texture.

Caramelized: Food slow-cooked until it’s browned, nutty, and has a bit of sweetness.

Charred: Grilled, roasted, or broiled and gains a blackened exterior and smoky flavor.

Fermented: Food that’s sat with bacteria, yeast, or another microorganism and has produced acids, alcohols, or gases. Results in a biting, pungent flavor. (Kimchi is fermented)

Fried: Food cooked by submerging in hot oil. Creates crispy, crunchy texture and golden colour.

Glazed: Food with a coating brushed onto its surface. Appears glossy with a thin, flavorful, and crisp outer layer.

Infused: Food steeped in liquid with another ingredient so it carries the essence of that ingredient. Used with herbs usually.

Marinated: Usually meat soaked in liquid containing flavourful herbs, spices, vinegar, or oil.

Poached: Food cooked in near boiling water. Results in tender, moist texture.

Roasted: Food cooked with dry heat in an oven or over the fire. Results in browned exterior and crisp coating.

Sautéed: Food cooked quickly in small amount of fat.

Seared: Food cooked in small amount of fat until caramelized. Finished by roasting or grilling. Results in crisp exterior and tender interior.

Smoked: Food exposed to smoke from smoldering wood for a long time. Results in that distinctive smoky flavor.

Whipped: Food beaten to incorporate air. Light and fluffy.

What did I miss?

[reverieblondie]

Scary Movie Night

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Full nelson, Oral, Cum eating, Reverse cowgirl.

Summary: Halloween Night and horror movies what could go wrong?

A/N: I can not do kinktober because I write to slow, so this is my Halloween fic instead. Also if you have sent me a request I am working on it so please be patient! If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Peter B Parker here.

Word Count: 6,582

“Oh no please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I want to be in the sequel!” 

Halloween night, alone with no plans but to watch the horror movie marathon on TV, pass out candy to trick-or-treaters, and gorge yourself on candy and popcorn.  

The movie marathon was going strong. You had started with Nightmare on Elm Street, and now you have moved on to Scream. The marathon was the perfect way to get into the Halloween spirit. Halloween was the perfect night to get your spook on, everyone is entitled to one good scare on the spookiest night of the year. However, you didn't foresee yourself getting scared from the movies with having to constantly get up to pass out candy to eager trick-or-treaters. 

The doorbell rang out causing you to heave yourself from the couch dusting popcorn derby from your chest you flip on your interior lights and answer the door. 

“Trick or Treat!” 

The little Bundle of kids cheered. Ranging in ages you surveyed the group with a smile. A sweet little princess, an impressive robot, and an oddly adorable zombie, with them a tepid teenager with his scary werewolf mask on top of his head. You assume the babysitter for the night.  Quickly complementing their costumes you gave them each a handful of the sugary treats they were so desperate for. Chirping a thank you they all run off to the next house over. 

Smiling as they run off you scan the crisp autumn night watching the masses of excited children cheering and laughing as they run from house to house. As you are greeting some more treaters running to your door, something catches your eye. 

A dark figure seems to be slowly walking in the shadows of the sidewalks carefully avoiding running children and lights as it walks carefully by, surveying the rows of houses. Watching intently you quickly pass out the candy while trying to get a good look at the figure. Then one of the kids chirps a thank you causing you to smile down at them, once the kids run off your porch you look for the figure in the night and it seems to have disappeared. Okay, that was creepy. Maybe it was just a harmless kid, don't work yourself up. 

And you didn’t the whole weird sighting had completely left your mind. You had finished Scream and moved on to Halloween, is it even truly Halloween if you haven't watched this movie at least once? Enthralled in the movie your lights are turned dim to get you into the atmosphere of the film. Then something makes you jump, and it wasn’t the shape on the screen.  

Whipping your head towards the sound, it's like a soft tapping and it's coming from your window. This caused only one thought to rush through your brain- did I lock the window…

Slowly approaching the window you hear the tapping continue and you swear as you inch closer it becomes more rampant. Then as you reach for the curtain it seems to stop. It's probably just nothing, but the thought of that shadowy figure made all your confidence waver. If this is something you are screwed…maybe if you had some company you would be calmer. 

Not wanting to be a horror movie cliche you start looking through your phone's contacts. You need someone dependable, scary, and someone you wouldn't mind hanging out with, like…

You stop scrolling and stare at the contact name: Miguel O’Hara…

Dependable- yes, he can be kinda a hardass but at work, he is always ready to give a helping hand to you every time you ask, even though he would not shy away from giving you shit when given the chance. Though you have grown to enjoy the teasing.  

Scary- Uh, the dude is 6 '9' and built like a brick wall. It was one of the first things you noticed about him, The dude was huge! He could probably crush you if he needed to, though would that be so bad? It has become an office joke that when he's not at work he's living at the gym working out like crazy. How else could he be so big? 

Now Miguel is your friend, you two had gotten close through your jobs at Alchemax, So it's only natural for a friend to let another friend come over right? Even if this said friend is quite attractive, with a gorgeous face, broad back, slender waist, and the best ass you have ever seen. Yeah, hanging out alone in your house shouldn't be a problem…Right?

Taking a deep breath you press the call button. 

-Bring…-

-Brriinnngg…-

“Hello?” 

“Um, Hey Miguel, are you busy?” 

You hear Miguel shuffling around before he answers “What's wrong?” 

Wow, he's pretty perceptive, you didn't realize how shaken up you sounded for him to ask you that so quickly. “Uh, I was wondering if you could…come over?”

There is a long moment of silence then what sounds like an exasperated sigh on Miguel's end. He busy…Maybe you should tell him never mind, you're the one who decided to watch horror movies alone and-

“Okay, I will be there shortly.” 

Well that took zero convincing, “O-okay, see you then”

-click-

——-

Making sure to pick up your living room a bit you anxiously await for Miguel to arrive. The random tapping has stopped but you're still walking apprehensively through your home. Turning back on your lights you continue to watch the movie trying to distract yourself but you feel your hands getting clammy and anxiety rising. Were these movies just getting to you? Or Is there stuff happening? Worse than that, Is Miguel going to think you're crazy? 

Checking your phone every couple of minutes waiting for a call or text from Miguel. He said he would be here shortly but it feels like forever, where is he? Having nervously eaten all your popcorn you go to make another bowl. Throwing the bag in the microwave you start the time and think about how you just saw this same situation in Scream. Waiting patiently you're starting to think you're overreacting a bit. That tapping could be anything, maybe when Miguel gets here you two can laugh at this. He has the most amazing laugh…

Then a sudden thumping breaks your daydream. Frozen, you don't move a muscle, you don't even dare to breathe as you slowly move your gaze to the window where the tapping had been. But, the thumping noise is fainter, and it's almost like something hitting something on your windows. For a second you think, is someone egging me? You thought you could avoid that because you got the good candy. Is someone messing with you? Maybe this is all in your head? 

The thumping then turns into a window-rattling, like it's being pried open, your blood runs cold…

Eyes flicking around the room, your gaze gets glued towards the bathroom, and you clutch your cell phone tightly, is this happening…do I look? Absolutely not! Frantically you look at your phone. Where the hell is Miguel? 

Then the sound of your doorbell chime sounds like a saving grace. Quickly you rush to open the door, but it doesn't budge. Danm-

Fumbling with the lock you quickly swing the door open and there he is. Miguel O’Hara, in all his beautifully intimidating glory. God, you could just kiss him. You didn't even care that he was looking at you like you were insane. Without a second thought, you're pulling him by his shirt inside, slamming your door shut. Turning to him with wild eyes the hysteric words flying from your mouth.  

“Canyougocheckthebathroom, Iheardanoise and I’M Freaking out!” 

Miguel just looks at you baffled before he swivels his head around responding with a casual sigh. “Where's the bathroom?” 

Timidly you point down your dark hallway and Miguel instantly starts walking that way. Following close behind it takes everything in you not to cling to his jacket. Now you are usually a lot braver, but the oddness of the whole situation has you in a tissy.  

Miguel stops at the closed bathroom door, turning his head over his shoulder he points his index finger to the door in a silent question. Nodding with a yes he opens the door with a confident swing walking through. You're more apprehensive as you peer through the doorway holding your hands tightly to your chest. Looking through your bathroom it's completely normal, apart from the mountain of a man looking around at it. 

Turning to face you his chiseled face in a quizzical glare of ‘okay?’ 

Pointing to the window you meekly say “I thought I heard the window being opened..” 

Nodding Miguel parts the curtains to reveal a shut window, going the extra mile he even tries to open it but it's locked. Closing the curtains back he turns to you placing his hands on his hips.

“Anything else?”

Looking at the shower you nudge your head at it. Seeming to roll his eyes slightly he opens the curtain to reveal an empty shower, murderer free. Sighing, your tension starts to ease up, everything seems fine, other than you acting like a damn spaz.

“You okay scaredy-cat?” he says with a smirk. 

Rolling your eyes you're not amused by the nickname, “Yes I am fine, now can you give me a minute?”

Miguel shrugs with a smile and walks out of the bathroom, he turns like he's about to say something but you quickly slam the door closed, locking it.  Pressing your back to the door you run your hands through your hair and down your face feeling ridiculous. Nothing is here to get you…plus Miguel is here you need to get a grip.

After regaining your composure, doing your business, washing your hands, and maybe putting on some mascara and fixing your hair a bit, you finally exit the bathroom. Walking into your living room you are met with the sight of Miguel walking out of the kitchen, jacket removed, revealing a black tee shirt that does everything for his muscular physique; the cherry on top, he has taken your popcorn from the microwave and poured it into a bowl. -well just make yourself at home the O’Hara

Feeling a bit awkward you decide it's the polite thing to thank him, “Thank you for coming over and checking my bathroom…” 

Miguel nods plopping down on your couch and placing the popcorn on your coffee table, “you know, Maybe you shouldn’t be watching horror movies by yourself if you're just going to get scared by them” 

Touché-

“Well…That's why I have you, you get to be my bodyguard”  You say with a chuckle as you turn off your lights and slide down onto the couch next to him. 

“I don’t know, I was working before you called…” 

“Working?” This shouldn't be a surprise, of course, he was….”Well that's not a very fun Halloween” 

“And getting scared by cheesy horror movies is?” 

“Hey, At least it's festive, plus it’s not the movies that spooked me, some weird person was lurking around and this odd tapping, then the window…” 

As you speak you look up and see that Miguel is listening intently, hanging on to each word that leaves your lips, you can't help but feel your cheeks blush from his fervid stare. 

“I don’t know…maybe it was the movies…”

“I’ll stay”

“Huh?” You look at him confused 

Miguel casually grabs a handful of popcorn “I said I’ll stay, I don't have to finish that work right now and you seem genuinely scared, though I think you have just been watching too many movies niña” he playfully nudges you with his elbow and you nudge him back making him laugh causing you to blush again. 

“Plus…” he adds while dragging his eyes over your face, then down your body, studying your form for a moment “It will be..festive..” he looks back into your eyes and quickly averts his gaze to the movie, eating his popcorn casually. 

-------

This is not how you saw your evening headed, alone in a dark room with Miguel. Sure you have had the odd fantasy of this moment before but there was no TV playing, and there were also no clothes…the popcorn was still present though…

Trying to be engrossed in the film you can’t help but take your eyes away to look over at Miguel. Fidgeting around on the couch, Danm, you need to relax. Miguel is being a good friend and just trying to watch a movie he doesn't need to be ogled by you!  

As you continue to be at war with yourself your fidgeting and sighing must have gotten Miguel's attention. Because he’s then carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you in close. Feeling your face turn through three variations of blush you allow yourself to be pushed closer till your head is on his shoulder. Before you can even fumble with a response Miguel is speaking up. “You seem like you're scared…”

Not scared, just burning in desire for you, but I will take what I can get. “Thanks, Miguel.”

Completely ignoring the movie now, you don't even know what's on, you are just enjoying the closeness of Miguel's warm body. He might be the world's most cuddly man despite appearances. The best part was when a  jumpscare would suddenly happen, he would hold you tighter like he was trying to protect you. His calm rhythmic breathing and how his fingers subtly rubbed loose strains of your hair it was so calming. Calling him over was the perfect move, everything was going great. 

But there was something that just didn't make sense to you, “How come you're not at some kind of Halloween party or something?” you inquire looking up at his sculpted jaw. 

Miguel shrugs, moving his eyes away from the screen to look at you  “How come you're not at a Halloween party?” How come he can’t ever just give a straight answer-

Rolling your eyes you scoff “I’m not a fan of parties they tend to be overwhelming and usually kinda a letdown. Like I’m not going to go there and meet some sexy masked man to sweep me off my feet by fulfilling my every desire…” 

Miguel looks at you confused and you just giggle “Heh, I read a story about it once…Anyways I like staying home to pass out the candy, it’s fun getting to make the kid's night.” 

“You like kids?” he quickly asks. 

“Sure, I mean I want some of my own one day.” As you answer you look over at Miguel and you think you see a slight smile on his lips as you speak. 

“Seriously though, how come you weren't doing anything on Halloween?” you ask, trying to get the truth. “Didn't you get invited to go out?”

Miguel sighs, “Well yeah but, I’m like you, I don't like parties, horror movies are not my favorite, and kids don't trick or treat in my building, Plus…I was kinda waiting”

“Waiting? For what?” you say furrowing your brow at him.

“Well, I was waiting to see if you were going to invite me out” His sudden confession has your heart warming, and before you can get too mushy you slip out a laugh elbowing Miguel in the abs. “If you wanted to hang out you could have just called, you know?”

“I know, I guess I’m lucky you freaked yourself out so much you needed my company, scaredy-cat.” he teases leaning further into you and making your body warm.

“Hey! I was hearing and seeing things, Mister.” you poke his chest, almost hurting your finger in the process.

“Sure you were…” You and Miguel are both leaning pretty close by now, still laughing with each other. Then you two seem to notice the sudden proximity that has you both turning your heads quickly. 

Miguel and you continue your playful banter as you watch the movie. He complains how everything is predictable, proving his theories by telling you who will die and in what order, you call him a buzz kill and playfully pinch his sides as he continues to ruin the movie. Miguel meets your pinching by doing it to you, this quickly escalates to a pinching war on the couch.

Lost in the playful fight you and Miguel feel the tension building around you until the ring of the doorbell cuts through the laughing. Sounds of excited laughter following the ring, you look to the door and smile at Miguel “Well, duty calls,” Miguel moves so you can slip past him, and you head towards the door. To your surprise, however, you notice that Miguel is following you. Looking at him confused he averts his eyes and places his hand on the back of his neck, “Thought I could help….” -what a cutie

Smiling wide you place the bowl of candy in his large hands. Swinging the door open you see a group of giggly kids eagerly holding out their baskets. They all go to sing out their Halloween phrase but suddenly stop with wide eyes and gasped expressions. 

Looking at them confused you wonder what has them looking so shocked till you turn your head and look at Miguel. With the lights dimmed down in your house and the porch light only hitting parts of his face he looks terrifying, also are his eyes glowing red? What?

The youngest kid dressed like a fairy starts to cry, turning to hug her mom's leg. The others are too scared to even move. Miguel, in his infinite wisdom in social cues, leans over slightly and lets out a simple question “What will it be? Trick or Treat?” 

Noticing the kids getting upset and equally the parents, you are quick to soothe things over. Flipping the door light on you makes it easier to see Miguel, making his faceless obscured, this seems to make the kids relax a bit and the moms and dad blush to see his strong physique and chiseled features. 

“Wow! Miguel, don't all these kids look great? Don’t you love the costumes?” You nudge Miguel with a smile trying to get him to smile back. 

Miguel, confused at first, doesn't understand, then lighting up he seemingly catches on “Oh yeah definitely all good, I like the Spider-Man” Miguel points to a kid who is dressed in the Blue and red vigilante outfit (A popular costume since the masked hero started saving Nueva York) the kid gives a thumbs up that makes Miguel smile that has everyone’s heart squeezing.

Finally with the kids more relaxed and the parents thoroughly flushed you crouch down, pulling Miguel with you to drop candy in the kid's bags. You take the time to ask each kid what they are and compliment the outfit. Miguel keeps his smile placed as he watches you with the kids. He seems to enjoy this. Finally, with all the kids giving their sweet rewards you and Miguel wave bye.

Nudging him in the side you get his attention “Try not to scare the kids huh?” 

Miguel rolls his eyes “I didn't do it on purpose.”

Miguel walks back inside towards the movie and you go to reach for the light, but some sudden movement catches your attention. It looks like someone or something running down the side of the neighbor's house. Stepping out into the night air you look and see if you can see it. Inching closer and closer you're trying to catch a glimpse but then the sound of a playful scream down the road makes you jump. Looking back you see a father lifting his daughter and tossing her into the air making her scream and giggle. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you head back inside. Not seeing that the bushes have been rustling…

———-

Settling back onto the couch you are happily eating away at your candy. Trick-or-treaters are heading home for the night leaving the rest of the treats for you to enjoy. Miguel's eyes are focused on you as the candy slips past your lips. 

“I can’t believe you actually can sit here and eat all that sugar” 

You side-eye Miguel “Oh let me guess you don’t eat candy?” Probably not have you felt his abs in that shirt, completely solid-

“I just, haven’t had any that I like” 

“Well, do you not like sweet things?” 

Miguel looks at you for a moment like he wants to say something but quickly changes his mind “It depends…” 

“Well here try this, it’s one of my favorites” 

Quickly unwrapping the candy you hold it up for Miguel to take, but instead of grabbing it from you he leans down and takes it with his mouth. 

Staring at him your thoughts seem to evaporate.- 

Wait, did I just…did he really…did I feed him chocolate?

Staring at Miguel you meet his gaze with wide eyes, is he…no! He probably just took it because he just really wanted the chocolate…

While you're consumed by your thoughts your eyes stay locked with Miguel, he looks nervous. Like he's also surprised that you fed him chocolate, but he was the one who leaned in and ate from your hand! He fed himself! 

Moving his eyes away for a moment he turns away and quickly swallows the candy, as he turns he seems like he wants to say something but instead his intense stare stays on your eyes. Feeling his arm on your shoulders move slowly to your hips curling tighter around you, a crashing wave of excitement washes over you. He slightly leans forward keeping his eyes on yours, it feels like you can’t breathe. 

Heart is beating a mile a minute, all your nerves are on high alert, brain feels like it's frying. His scent, his touch, his intense stare! Wait, are his eyes red again, must be the lighting. 

All of it is overwhelming. With ease, his large hand gently grabs your neck, bringing you closer to touch his plush lips to yours. Eyes shutting instantly you lean into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to his warmth. Seemingly groaning in surprise he leans more, parting his lips slightly to guide you through, mouth moving in tandem with him. Feeling the kiss deepen to a more intense passion you feel Your arousal ruining your panties and body heat reaching a fever pitch. 

Breaking from the kiss to get air you stare at Miguel's face as he catches his breath, he looks downright majestic huffing for air it drives you wild, tightening your thighs together. Taking everything not to pounce him you back up brain scrambling from the hot man panting at you.  

“I-is it Hot maybe I should o-open up my….Window! Yeah, open up my window!” Quickly you scramble to your window pushing past the curtains and lifting the window. The sudden cool breeze does nothing to cool your heated body. Standing there you take deep breaths to calm yourself, then large hands grabbing your hips make your attempts to calm down fail. Feeling Miguel nuzzle into your hair, then his breath fan against your neck has you almost moaning, you just can't help melting at his touch. 

“I’m sorry if that was too sudden, I just…I’ve been wanting to do that..” His arms wrap around you in a hug making you fall into pure bliss

“For how long?” you say breathlessly leaning into his hold. 

Humming Miguel thinks for a moment “About….five months now”

Your eyes shoot open and you turn around and swat his shoulder “You have liked me for five months and you haven't done anything about it!” 

Miguel takes your playful hits for a few more moments before catching your wrist and pulling you in close, “you know if you wanted to kiss me you could have?”

“What? No way, I have been leaving hints this whole time you needed to meet me halfway!” 

Miguel leans in closer, silencing your nagging with a kiss that you quickly fall into, playing with his hair as his hands roam over your body. Breaking away Miguel smiles down at you, “Is this meeting you halfway?” 

Giving a slight pout you look at him with doe eyes “All I'm saying is that we could have been doing stuff sooner if you would have done something.” 

Miguel quickly lifts you kissing you passionately carrying you blindly to the bedroom, when you feel your back hit your bedroom door you break the kiss looking down at his smirking face. “Well let's make up for lost time, shall we?” 

Fumbling with your doorknob trying to open your door, but he swiftly moves your hand, opening the door in a fluid motion. Unable to contain your desires, you feverishly pull on his shirt while his hands fumble with your leggings. Once his shirt is off you take a second to admire his body he just chuckles at you before he's undoing his pants, while taking your top off you watch as his cock springs out from its confines slapping against his abdomen. 

Now fully exposed to one another he can't help but lick his bottom lip taking in all your soft curves. You're equally hypnotized by his monstrous phasic and the massive length that causes your legs to shake. Seeing your nervousness he's quick to relax you. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good.” Running his hands all over he gets behind you and walks you to your bed. Pushing you against the bed you're falling on the plush mattress on your hands and knees. 

Miguel's large digits can be felt spreading open your wet folds, you can only whimper as he runs his other finger up and down teasing you. 

“Danm, you're so wet…” 

Before you can give a rebuttal you feel him lick a long strip up your cunt. All you can do is let out a squeak as he ravenously eats your pussy, licking at your slick walls. All you can do is drop to your elbows moaning his name, as he hums and prods his tongue in your quivering slit. 

Finally needing to break for air he moves away, his warm breath fanning over your wet cunt making you squeeze your legs together. Turning your head over your shoulder to look at Miguel and you almost cum right there. He's panting like a damn animal as a mixture of your arousal and his spit coat his chin in a shining sheen. The most alarming thing is that his eyes are blown out in hungry lust “Miguel…” you whimper his name breathlessly. 

“Sorry hermosa, you're just so sweet..” with that he's spreading you open and back to eating your pussy like a starved man making you approach your high. Feeling your body reaching its peak you grind your hips into his face making him latch onto your swollen clit, sucking and twirling his tongue on it. 

“Oh my god! Miguel! Ah!” 

Knowing exactly what he's doing he leans in, humming onto your clit more, sliding two fingers into your slick cunt. moving his fingers in slowly he's spreading you open to accommodate every enticing inch. Once he's knuckle deep he starts pumping his large fingers in and out. Practically drooling now from his pumping plus the hungry licking and sucking of your clit you feel in bliss. It's not until Miguel is letting out a low groan into your cunt that you start seeing stars. 

Trying to squirm away you try to prevent what's about to happen but Miguel grabs a hold of your hips not allowing you to move, continuing his low groans and deep pumping. The white-hot rush washes over you and all you can do is scream his name as you cum, Miguel not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet essence quickly licks and sucks every drop from you, helping you ride your high on his face. 

Coming down from your high you feel Miguel's large hands squeezing your waist, “So good for me baby, so fucking sweet..” 

Before you can even fully get back to your senses Miguel is Pulling you up to press your back to his chest, “now keep being my good girl and ride me..” he growls into your ear. 

Laying down on the bed he steadies your hips as you grab his massive length angling it to tease your slit. His hot tip feels so good teasingly poking at your slit. Looking over your shoulder your eyes fall to Miguel, he looks like he can't take any more of your teasing. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” 

Slowly lowering yourself on his cock you feel the stretch making your toes curl, Miguel's large hands rub soft circles on your hips as you stretch yourself full. You're unable to help your mewing of his name as you fully press down to take him all. Not even moving yet your eyes are rolling at the way his tip is already nudging your cervix. Miguel continues to rub his hands up and down your back cooing sweet nothings about how you're such a good girl, his good girl. 

Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more so you slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down, with each motion your cunt clenches down on him savoring the stretch. Once you're accommodated to his size you pick up your pace moving faster and pushing him in deeper, his hot tip has you losing your mind. Grabbing onto your breast pinching and twisting your buds, you're losing it moaning and crying out his name. 

Egged on by your enthusiasm Miguel grips your hips and thrusts deeper, “That's my girl, take it, baby, ah fuck, my cock is yours” 

“Its mine..ah fucking mine” you cry out bouncing faster 

You start to feel the coil in your stomach tightening, feeling your body heating up to a fever pitch. Miguel is right with you approaching as high as he thrust harder cock throbbing and heating to a mouth-watering burn. Grunts falling on deaf ears you're too lost in the chase or your second orgasm, your only focus is to milk him dry, to feel his thick seed fill you. 

The chase gets halted when suddenly Miguel is leaning forward kissing the back of your neck, hooking his arms under your knees. Locking his hands behind your head, the contorting has him fucking your pussy impossibly deeper, his breath is ragged as he moans, “I'm going to ruin this fucking pussy!”

“Fuck! Ruin me miggy!” You didn’t need to ask him twice he's fucking you hard, his in your stomach at this point. The arousal from your cunt is dripping down to your ass as he just takes full control over you. Chest feels on fire as you gasp from his pace which shows no sign of relenting till his cumming deep inside you.   

Practically there you feel your coil about to give, and then Miguel slows his strong thrust to a stop, his breath getting quiet. Turning back to whine at the sudden loss of friction you hear it too…the sound of your living room window sliding up. Still caged in his grip from the Full Nelson you can only look up in horror, your house is being broken into! You weren’t paranoid! 

Miguel slowly releases you from his hold and gently slides out of you moving you to the side of the bed. You can’t help the slight moan you give from not being full of him anymore. Miguel stands up and looks at you placing a finger to his lip reminding you to be silent, his intense eyes looking like they shine red. Quickly following his silence demands you cover your mouth with your hands. 

Slow footsteps can be heard walking through the house and your eyes widen. Who was in here? What is happening? 

Miguel slowly and steadily puts his pants on (disregarding his underwear) and you wrap yourself in a robe. Miguel goes to open the door of the bedroom but you quickly grab his hand to hold him back. Looking up at him with pleading eyes you try and urge him not to go out there, it’s dangerous he could get hurt. 

Without words, Miguel places his hand on your cheek and gives a soft kiss to your lips, a reassurance that everything will be okay. You hate how much it calms you at the moment but can’t help how you surrender to it. 

Miguel goes to open the door but it’s too late, the door flies open and you see a masked intruder dressed in all black. Screaming in terror you hide behind Miguel’s tall stature. To your surprise the intruder also screams when you are, jumping backwards they pin themselves to the wall. Wait? What kind of intruder jumps in surprise? As you shake in fear and confusion Miguel just stares daggers at the person. 

Before you know it the intruder is cussing and running towards the door but Miguel is not having it, he pursues the intruder in a quick sprint. It was honestly a pathetic sight, the intruder scrambling to unlock your front door while the monster of a man Miguel goes to grab him. 

After successfully slipping through the door the masked person starts running down your driveway. However, they were not quick enough, with an incredible force Miguel grabbed the masked person’s shoulder and slammed them to the ground in one swift motion. With the way he swiftly maneuvered it was like Miguel has done it thousands of times. 

Thoroughly pissed off Miguel lifts the now limp figure in the air. Now seeing the comparison between the two you see how the guy didn’t even stand a chance to Miguel, in fact, the figure now seems to be quite slender. Carefully you approach Miguel and the figure. 

 in an animalistic growl, Miguel finally speaks. “What are you doing breaking into y/ns house…” 

The figure lets out a whimper of “Who?” the continues in a pathetic plea,  

“Please sir don’t kill me,” Sir? What? That’s not how intruders sound. Miguel lifts the mask off the person's face to reveal a young man probably a freshman in high school looking like he’s about to pee himself. The young man turns to you with desperate eyes. 

“Ma’am, can you tell your husband to put me down?” Okay, not my husband but I’m not going to correct them. 

“Um, first you need to explain why you were breaking in before I call the police “ 

The kid lets out a whine  “Please don’t! it was just a stupid prank, I was supposed to scare Kenny Crain.” The kid's face flushes and starts to cry

Looking at them confused, you ask, “Kenny Crain?” 

The kid sadly nods and Miguel’s grip tightens, You continue “No Kenny Crain lives here?” Gesturing to your house. 

The kid's tears stop and he looks at you in shock “wait this isn't 945?”

You shake your head “This is 925” 

The kid stops crying and looks to a nearby bush “TYLER YOU FUCKING IDIOT! You scoped the wrong house!” 

A bush rustles before letting out a pathetic “sorry-“ 

Miguel drops the teenager from his grasp to the ground, he makes a sit-down motion with his hand and the teen eagerly obeys. 

With long strides, Miguel goes to the bush and plucks the other teenager out lifting him by the collar and placing him next to his friend. 

Watching as Miguel scolds the teenager you feel a smile creep across your face and that same tingly feeling in your stomach, Miguel O’Hara your hero. 

Walking over you grab Miguel’s arm causing him to fall silent from his reprimanding of the two teens. 

“Miguel, I think they learned their lesson.” You look at the two pathetic-looking teens and they nod urgently. 

Miguel stares at the two young men again, not over what they did “You two, go home and don’t ever do anything like this again. Or else….” 

With that the teens start scrambling and apologizing, running off into the late Halloween night. Your eyes fall to Miguel, his bare chest heaving as he watches the boys run off in irritation, he looks gorgeous. Miguel had come to protect you again, it’s only right you repay him. Sliding your arms around his waist you press soft kisses to his warm body. 

Tease muscles begin to relax with each passing kiss from your soft lips. Swiftly he turns around and looks down at you. You thought he looked fantastic during the day right now he looks damn ethereal. A soft kiss is pressed to your lips, it's caring and full of passion. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips you suddenly feel the night air grazing across your ass as Miguel lifts your robe before his warm hands come to grip you rear, making you whimper. 

Breaking the kiss in one fluid motion Miguel scoops you from your feet and carries you into your home. The kiss becomes hungrier with each passing moment, and before you know it you're crashing onto your sofa with Miguel over you caging you beneath his hard body. Moans escape your lips as he gropes your body, his hands quickly undo your robe, then quickly grab a hold of your breast to play with your sensitive buds, his tongue drags over them coating them in his saliva.  

Pulling away you look at him with blown-out eyes buckling your hips uncontrollably toward him, it's like your in heat. Chuckling softly he bites his lip and he starts to undo his pants, you're still shuddering with anticipation when his cock springs out. 

“You didn't want to go back to the bedroom?” you ask in a shaky breath, holding your hands out to him. Did you want to go back to the room, no you just want to tease him. 

Grabbing a hold of your hands he leans in placing kisses on your fingers and your knuckles before he pins them over your head. 

“I thought you wanted to finish your silly horror movie marathon,” he coos

Grabbing his length with the free hand he slaps it against your aching cunt causing you to jolt your hips up with a quick moan. Proud of himself for the reaction he gets from you he continues as he rubs his cock through your wet folds to gather your arousal, 

“figured we could multitask.”  

With that he slowly seathes himself into your wet heat, your moaning and clawing in back relishing in that fullness you're sure to get addicted to. Miguel can't help but throw his head back at how your pussy sucks him in tightening around him instantly and he's not even fully in yet. Miguel just keeps pumping his hard cock through your velvety tight walls, watching your brain get hazier with each thrust that kisses your cervix, keeping at this you're sure to forget to even breathe let alone watch a movie. 

The Tv seems like a faint buzz between the sounds of Miguel's thrusts and grunts married with your whimpering pants and squelching pussy. The TV catches your attention for a single moment -” Don’t go away, we are playing all Your horror favorites till the witching hour!” 

Miguel grabs your chin and brushes his thumb across your wet lips, a mischievous smirk on his lips makes your sex tighten on him, “Looks like we’re in for a long night baby.”

[raindailies]

— 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 ☁️

summary : your boyfriend loves the sweet and sugary taste of your honeyed tinted lips. (HAIKYUU CHARACTERS)

warnings: cigarettes, making out in the car, kissing mwah mwah yk that shit, literally all fluff.

extra: divider by @/cafekitsune <3

The faint smell of cigarette was dawning the car, as you were seated beside your boyfriend, a box of strawberry fixed on your lap as you ate the pieces with a slight hum of contentment.

The slight sour and juicy interior of the strawberries left slight tender savor in your mouth, as you relished in the taste. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, had a cigarette rested between in middle and pointer finger, his gazed fixed outside the window.

The two of you sat in a comfortable relishing silence, watching the view that was presented upon you both, before you felt a cold hand grab your chin in a gentle manner, turning your head back.

Looking back, you saw the ridiculous smirk that taunted the surface of your boyfriend's face, before moments later where he lets his lips crash against your own.

One of his hand was rested on your face, cupping your cheek as the other wandered on your waist, pulling you closer to him, the only thing separating you two being the center console that extends between the driver's and passenger's seat.

The kiss was tentative, and tender. The feeling of his plush and soft lips against your own was a feeling that you could never be bored of. You felt his larger hand angling your face so he could further deepen the kiss, leaning closer to you.

You felt breathless, and were, arguably, breathless. But you couldn't stop. You wanted more, you needed more of him.

Yet during that feathery moment, you tasted something different - a bitter and metallic taste was rested on his lips as you deepened the kiss. It felt acidic, yet addictive as it drew you in even more.

He tasted like the cigarette he had just abandoned a moment earlier, the one sticking between his middle and pointer finger, yet now discarded with no attention.

Whilst on his end, you smelt, and tasted sweet. So sweet. With a sour mixed in the flavor of your plump lips, god, he wanted more of you. He needed all of you.

You were all he needed, no cigarettes were comparable to the taste of your lips.

You tasted so sweet.

And he tasted so bitter, yet, weirdly sweet at the same time.

Pulling away hesitantly so you both could catch a breath, he panted slightly, the taste of your lips still lingering on his own as if he had memorized it from top to bottom, but seriously, he'd make out with you all day long if he could.

The taste that your lips had relished to him was one of the feelings that he deeply cherish, one that he couldn't get rid of.

He was a mess, you were a mess. His eyes peered to you and your swollen lips from kissing him, taking in your appearance of slightly disheveled hair and ragged breath.

"You taste like strawberries." He whispered, letting his arms pull you closer as he breathed in your scent. He looked at you, his eyes swirling with desire and need as you chuckled slightly at his observation.

"And you taste like cigarettes." You grinned, melting into his touch.

"That so?" He smirked, a sly expression coating his features as he moved his hand from your waist to the box of strawberries, grabbing a handful before shoving them in his mouth.

Like a kid, he feverishly chewed the strawberries in his mouth with quick pace in his tracks, before grabbing your wrist, smashing his lips against yours again.

This time, he tasted sweet, mixed with the slight sour taste of strawberries lingering on his lips.

The kiss this time, was quick and gentle, before he quickly pulled away, a big grin on his face as he smiled at you as if he had accomplished something big.

"Now we both taste like strawberries!"

☁︎ ── ATSUMU, osamu, KUROO, hinata, bokuto, oikawa, AND your favs

❝𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞❞

A/N: New look for blog how we feeling gang 😮‍💨 ok ok i KNOWW they're professional athletes and won't smoke but just for the sake of this sweet scenario pretend that they do ONCE

this is a repost from my other acc - rainndailies lolol, expect a BIG rebranding of the blog tmr 🫡

[tumbleweed-writes]

Never Lost: Chibs Telford X Reader

18+ Only

President Chibs Telford needs some reassurance from his ol lady as his worries about the future of the club become too much to bear alone.

=======

She knew that no one would ever believe her when she said it but Chibs Telford was by far the gentlest soul she had ever had the privilege of meeting.

She knew that most people would scoff at such a declaration. The entire aura that surrounded Chibs Telford screamed anything but gentle.

The President of the Redwood Original charter of the Sons of Anarchy did not exude any overtone of sweetness.

By Chibs’ appearance alone the outside world perceived him as being brutal and menacing.  

As club Pres Chibs had found that it served him well to carry a certain sense of intimidation to outsiders and anyone who may wish harm upon him or his brothers. 

He had only been wearing the President patch for less than a year upon their first meeting, but in that time he had learned to wear any sense of danger he might emit with a sense of security.

He had always been intimidating to the public of course; given his history with both the MC and the cause in Ireland.

He was well versed in causing alarm to those who lived within the societal norm.

The scars Jimmy O’ had left along his cheeks had helped give off this impression of danger and fear.

Chibs could admit that he’d coped with the injury Jimmy O’ had left him with by using it to his advantage. He’d allowed people to gawk at his scars and allowed their imaginations to run wild taking the evidence of such savagery as a sign Chibs Telford was not to be fucked with.

Chibs had learned not to allow people’s reaction to his appearance to bring him down. He had learned not to care if people were afraid of him. He had learned just how helpful it could be to be perceived as rough and intimidating. He was not ashamed to have the average man recoil upon one intense gaze from him.

Chibs Telford wore his ability to intimidate and frighten like a crown; appropriate for the King of SAMCRO.

Y/N Y/L/N had failed to feel any sense of intimidation upon first meeting the King of SAMCRO.

She felt even less intimidated now that she wore his crow inked over her right shoulderblade.

She sighed exhaustion flooding her body as she exited her car slamming the door shut behind her and locking it.

She made the short trek up the pavement heading towards the storefront that had once been Scoops and Sweets. The shop that had once sold ice cream and other sugary treats now operated as a home for Charming’s local outlaw MC.

As the club recovered and some money had begun to stream in, Chibs and the boys had been able to buy out Jacob Hale for ownership of the property as well as the few other abandoned storefronts beside it.

The space had been turned into a large enough clubhouse perfect to house what remained of SAMCRO.

The boys had remained in the porn business working with Lyla to film projects for Red Woody Productions though Y/N knew money was at times tight. There was a ton of competition in the world of adult entertainment.

The MC was surviving though; they were doing all they could to stay out of the red and keep going.

Y/N was not surprised to be met with a hug as soon as she entered the clubhouse. She chuckled, able to smell a hint of booze on her hugging partner’s breath as he spoke, appearing more like an overeager kid than a grown man. “Hey, Doll. Good to see you.”

“Hello, Tiggy. You doing alright?” She dared to ask, spotting the clear sign of intoxication on his features it was obvious that he was not abstaining from indulging even on a weeknight, though she knew she should not expect less from an outlaw biker.

“I’m alright. You want a shot?” Tig asked releasing her from the hug heading to the bar that had been added to the space upon a pricey remodel of the interior.

She managed to shake her head, her voice soft as she tried not to yawn. “Maybe later. Venus around?”

“Nah, she had a job tonight. Something involving a chastity device, paddles, cherry preserves, and whip cream.” Tig remarked a lovesick grin crossing his features at the mention of his ol lady.

Y/N raised a brow not sure she would ever get accustomed to the odd factors behind the chosen career path of one Venus Van Dam. 

She pushed any questions from her mind about how those items might possibly be used together telling herself it was best not to know. “My old man around?”

Tig nodded off towards the staircase in the far corner of the room. “Upstairs in the chapel, been looking over the books for hours now. He’ll be glad to see you; old bastard needs a break.”

She shook her head, tempted to point out that if Chibs was old then Tig was just as ancient.

She kept the comment in saying nothing as she headed upstairs. She rolled her eyes as Tig called out to her a giggle leaving his lips. “Remember to tell Chibby to wrap it before he taps it.”

She made her way down the hallway passing by closed dorm rooms and walls lined with mugshots knowing the way to the club’s chapel by now even though she was rarely permitted to enter the space.

She did not bother to knock, creaking the door open a soft sigh leaving her lips at the sight of her old man bent over a stack of ledgers tension clear in his body.

He gazed up at her, a tight tired smile crossing his lips as he gazed at her over the frames of his reading glasses. “M’angel ye didn’t have to come up here.”

She shrugged her shoulders, sending him a crooked smile in response. “I have discovered that our bed at home is too big when you aren’t in it. Thought I might give the bed in your dorm room a try tonight.”

He let out a tired chuckle shaking his head as he replied. “Aye, sorry to disappoint ye, Love, but I migh not be makin it to my bed tonight.”

She furrowed her brow making her way towards him, her hand reaching out to press to his shoulder not surprised by the tension she felt radiating off of him. “The books won’t let you sleep?”

He sighed, shaking his head, his voice tight. “Fraid not, got too much to go over..thought we were gonna be more outta the red by this point. We were doin good fer a wee bit. I mean, we had enough to buy out the shops next to us and remodel…shite was doin good with Red Woody, Lyla found some new talent gotta a few new girls signed to do a few videos fer us…and we had a good few months where the money was pourin in…we got fuckin arrogant and spent more than we shoulda though with the clubhouse remodel, shite cost more than it shoulda. We didn’t anticipate things slowin back down. Doesn’t help that rival studios keep tryin to poach our talent. We’re hittin the red again. I’m sure ye know that though given yer role in the business.”

She let out a soft sigh nodding her head knowing that though she worked as an editor for Red Woody Productions, she was well aware of the financial struggles of the business. “Yeah, things have been stressful at the studio lately. The subscription service seems to be picking up, but the videos keep getting leaked to free sites.”

She could admit she had recoiled just the slightest the first time Chibs had shared with her just what kind of business the Sons were tied up in. 

She could admit she had assumed the worst. 

Meeting Lyla had soothed her preconceived notions about just what was involved with Red Woody Productions. 

The offer to work for the porn studio had been a bit of a beggers can’t be choosers situation for Y/N.

She had been out of a job and out of a home when Chibs had come to her rescue. Chibs had insisted that he might be of some service as she’d panicked over what she was going to do without any home nor any money.

She had paled when he’d first mentioned the studio to her. Of course she had wrongly assumed he was suggesting she might want to work in front of the camera…in fact she’d maybe slapped him when he’d first uttered the words “I gotta idea, Love. The club I’m in…we got a production studio that will hire ye, porn.”

She had of course grimaced the second her palm had met his cheek and the anger in her had cooled off. She had been certain that she had made a dumb choice, slapping the outlaw biker who was so kindly offering her help in a desperate situation.

Much to her relief Chibs had not taken her slap personally and had quickly soothed any misunderstanding. “Ye said ye have experience as an editor, Lass. Ye did say that ye did that fer yer old job…I’m not suggesting ye make videos, I’m suggesting ye edit em. Our last editor quit on us, ye might be a good replacement.”

Y/N felt her stomach churn as Chibs let out a soft sigh glaring down at the books dreading her reaction to the words that were about to leave him. “The Irish got in touch with me…there’s interest in rekindlin our relationship at some point. I’m puttin it up fer a vote next week.”

“Filip.” She sighed, unable to say anything more, the information hitting her like a brick to the head.

Her touch to his shoulder tightened, tension of her own building in her body. She felt her stomach drop knowing the business Chibs was discussing returning to was filled with pain and violence. 

She had not known Chibs Telford during the time the Sons of Anarchy had been involved in gun running for the IRA.

The club had been out of the gun business by the time Chibs Telford had come into her life.

She had heard the stories about those days though…she had seen Chibs wake in a cold sweat from nightmares about those dark days and the loss he’d endured from them.

“I know, Love. I know. I’m fraid we migh not have a choice though. If SAMCRO wants to survive, we migh have to get back into that shite. I hate it, but it ain jus my call to make…it ain’t jus my club.” Chibs admitted cringing at the clear fear written across his ol lady’s features.

He reached up, placing a gentle hand over hers as he spoke from the heart. “That was the mistake Jax kept on makin…the mistake Clay always made…the club ain jus the president’s. Choices bout club business need to be made in chapel. The gavel might be in my hand, but I ain the only one callin all the shots. I gotta put it up fer a vote, m’angel. If the lads want back in…I gotta take the Irish up on the offer.”

She let out a heavy sigh shaking her head. “You can’t just not put it up for a vote? I mean…you have to bring up the offer? You can’t just ignore the request from the Irish?”

“Fraid not, ignorin it would be me makin a choice on my own. Guns were club business long before I joined up with the Sons. Jax spent all his time tryin to get us out…he made a lot of choices on his own on the path of gettin us out…I hate gettin us back in, after all his did to…” Chibs started shaking his head, his throat growing tight, emotion building up in him.

She reached down wiping a stray tear that threatened to work its way from the corner of his eye, it so clear that the pain of losing Jax Teller was still fresh for Chibs Telford even years later.

He took a deep breath releasing it a shaky sigh leaving him. He managed to find the words leaning into her touch. “I loved Jackie Boy. I know he pictured somethin more fer the club…a lot of the shite that went down, Love…it was fuckin dysfunctional at best. Jackie Boy was a haunted man at the end. His demons tainted choices he made. Ye already know the whole story, so I won’t bore ye with shite ye already know. I don’t know if I’m a fuckin fool, thinkin I can do anything different from Clay and Jax. The gavel corrupts, that’s what one of my brother’s use to say. I’m tryin so hard not to let it change me. I am so lost, m’angel. I aint felt this lost since the gavel was firs put in my hand.”

Y/N did the only thing she could think to do. She knelt in front of him, gazing up at him, her hand sliding down his cheek caressing his skin. “You aren’t lost, Filip. You are not corrupted by power or fear. You have your brothers. I know it’s got to be so hard…knowing they all look to you for guidance. You just want to make the best choice for everyone. You’re right though…it’s not only your choice to make.”

He let out a shaky breath the words leaving him. “I can’t do this on my own, Lass. I know this shite scares ye. I know ye have heard the stories bout how bad it got…all the loss. I am tryin so hard to make sure shite is different this time, I need ye by my side. I need yer strength to get me through this.”

She let out a soft sigh a voice in the back of her head exclaiming that he was a fool to think she could leave him to face this on his own.

Filip Chibs Telford had been her salvation.

They had met at a highly unstable time in her life.

She could still remember their very first meeting. 

She had left a stable job and friends to follow her then boyfriend Liam’s hairbrained plot to move across the country up to Northern California for some job opportunity he had taken.

She had reluctantly agreed to make the move with him, draining any savings she may have had to put towards the move, because of course her boyfriend was not going to fund it entirely himself. 

Liam was not the world’s most considerate boyfriend. Honestly selfish would be the easiest way to describe Liam. He was more concerned with his wants and his needs. Y/N had grown accustomed to being an afterthought in the relationship.

Liam had chosen to react to their latest argument by shoving Y/N out of the Uhaul and tossing her purse at her before driving off leaving her in his dust.

It was an explosive end to an often explosive relationship.

Once the rage had faded Y/N had realized just how fucked she actually was.

She had been stuck out on some Northern California backroads with very little money to her name and zero cell signal.

She had done the only thing she could think to do; walk down the dusty road hoping she could find some sign of civilization somewhere.

Her sign of civilization had come from the roar of a motorcycle.

The rough looking man riding the Harley had looked just as shocked to see Y/N as she’d been shocked to see him.

Chibs was not sure why he had pulled over his bike. He guessed he’d just been alarmed to spot some pretty young thing walking down the road in a sweet looking yellow cotton sundress appearing so distressed.

She could admit she’d been alarmed by his appearance as he’d stopped beside her pulling over to the side of the road. 

She felt ashamed as her eyes landed on the scars embedded into his cheeks she telling herself that it was so rude to stare.

She had spotted the leather kutte on his back next and the different patches sewn into the thick black leather; Sons of Anarchy, MC, California, Redwood originals, In Memory of Opie, President.

She felt her mind spin having briefly recalled a documentary she’d come across once on a lazy sick day in bed. The documentary had covered outlaw bikers. 

She had scolded herself for recalling the memory, a voice in the back of her head snapping that just because this strange man appeared to be in a motorcycle club that didn’t mean he was some kind of criminal.

She had felt a strange sense of comfort when he’d spoken his accent not at all being what she had anticipated. “Ye alrigh, Love? What are ye doin all the way out here? Is yer car broken down?”

The Scottish brogue was pleasant and rich sounding. It felt like heavy velvet or thick ale across her senses. 

She furrowed her brow at the thought. She had never thought that an accent could be so appealing.

When he’d peered at her over the lenses of the sunglasses he’d been wearing she had suddenly realized that the accent was not the only appealing thing about this man. He had lovely eyes; dark and soulful. His gaze fixed upon her and did not feel as though he was looking upon her with judgment. There was almost a sense of gentle concern behind his gaze.

She had studied him further spotting a pair of plush lips concealed under facial hair that was mostly silver. The hair on top of his head appeared to have been quite dark at some point but it also appeared to be peppered with quite a bit of silver as well. 

She had not imagined she might ever find an older man to be so attractive. 

She had shoved the thought from her mind, deciding to just spill her guts. “I got into a fight with my boyfriend.”

“He ditched ye on the side of the road?” Chibs blurted out a small frown crossing his brow, a sense of disapproval in his voice.

She shrugged her shoulders a soft sigh leaving her trying not to panic about the reality of her situation looming over her. “Something like that.”

“Ye need a lift home?” He offered the sense of panic weighing down on her all the heavier.

She felt the tears fall, ashamed to be falling apart in front of a total stranger. She had felt the words spill from her that sense of shame growing all the more palatable. “We were moving. I have no home to be taken to. I have nothing.”

“Shite, is there anyone ye can call?” Chibs remarked that look of disapproval on his face deepening to something she could not quite place; anger on her behalf?

She shook her head rapidly, her voice growing panicked. “I have no one. I don’t speak to my mother anymore and I don’t really have any friends outside of my old job, none that would care. He was all I had. I don’t know what to do.”

Chibs had taken her by shock as he’d spoken nodding to his bike. “Get on, Love. Let me take ye to get a bite to eat. We can get some food in ye and figure somethin out. I always feel better after a good bite to eat.”

Despite every warning bell going off in the back of her mind telling her not to get on a stranger’s motorcycle, Y/N had realized she had no choice.

She had told herself that perhaps this Scotsman was some kind of odd godsend.

Much to her shock as they’d sat at some greasy little diner not far from where Chibs had picked her up an offer had been made “I know a lass, an ol lady of one of my brother’s, Venus, she’d be happy to let ye stay with her while ye get back on yer feet. Now fer work…ye got any skills? What’d ye do before, ye mentioned a job?”

She had stared at him dumbfounded her mind going a mile a second. “I can’t do that, I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure this uh…ol lady you’re mentioning wouldn’t want some stranger moving in with her.”

“She won’t mind, she has a thing fer wounded wee birds.” Chibs had remarked not missing the grimace on Y/N’s features at the comment.

He was fast to speak again, reassuring her. “We all get wounded from time to time, Lass. Ain’t nothin to be ashamed of. Now, work, what’ye do?”

“Editing. I did some commercial work, some independent movies.” She blurted out her mind still going a mile a second.

Of course that had worked the mention of Red Woody Productions and a slap from Y/N proving she was less of a wounded wee bird than Chibs had proclaimed her to be.

The path from rescued wee bird to ol lady had not been a simple one.

Chibs had hated to admit that he’d been smitten with the distressed young woman he’d found on the outskirts of town.

He had felt guilty for the attraction. He had told himself not to pursue a thing as it would be a massive power imbalance.

Y/N had been just as attracted but just as reluctant to follow attraction telling herself Chibs Telford saw her as a wounded bird; something to help.

A friendship had blossomed; a flirty friendship but a friendship all the same.

Chibs had not been surprised that his brothers had adored Y/N. She had been a hard worker for Red Woody and she had such a sweet demeanor. It was hard not to like her. Venus had adored her; happy to take her in just as Chibs had assumed she would be.

Things had scooted along for months, a friendship forming and a certain romantic tension hanging in the air that neither had been willing to address.

The break in the romantic tension had come by the arrival of Liam to Charming.

He had shown up at the clubhouse of all places having finally tracked his ditched girlfriend down.

He had tried to coax Y/N into coming with him less than politely.

Chibs could still remember the words he’d walked up to his stomach churning spotting the distress on Y/N’s features as she appeared to be arguing with some arrogant looking young man.

“Are you serious, Y/N? What the hell is keeping you here?”

Chibs had felt the words leave him his chest puffing out attempting to give off the most unwelcoming energy he possibly could to the man. “I am. She’s stayin here Laddie, I think ye best go.”

Liam had scoffed at Chibs before glaring back at Y/N, his words harsh. “Who the fuck is this? Are you fucking him?”

Chibs didn’t have a chance to react because Y/N held her head up high, her words proving once again that she was no wounded bird. “Leave, Liam.”

“You can’t be serious? You’re fucking this freak? You always were demented, you know that? I never thought you’d become some kind of biker whore though.” Liam snarked the words cruel Chibs stepping forward ready to throw a punch.

Y/N spoke deciding to make a point even if she was partially lying. “I’m only his whore. He’s twice the man you ever were.”

With that she had put on quite the show turning to face Chibs yanking him down by his kutte her lips sliding along his the kiss deep and sloppy.

Chibs had kissed back once he’d gotten over the shock of the sudden act.

Apparently the kiss was enough to piss Liam off the man proving he was all bark and no bite as he stormed off screaming out expletives in Y/N’s direction.

As soon as he was out of sight Y/N pulled from the kiss apologies spilling from her lips. “I am so sorry, Filip. I know that was so uncalled for. I just know that guys like Liam don’t back off unless they think some other guy has a claim. I promise you I will never do that again.”

Chibs spoke, surprising himself and her by his words. “Please don’t promise that, Love.”

She gazed up at him feeling breathless as he spoke again, deciding to shoot his shot even if it scared the hell out of him. “It wasn’t uncalled fer. I want ye to that again…though I’d prefer ye to kiss me when ye aint tryin to make yer prick ex back off.”

He cleared his throat feeling less like the intimidating confident President of SAMCRO and more like a nervous older man who had not dated in far too long. “What I’m gettin at is…can I take ye on a date sometime, Love? We can try dinner before another kiss.”

He cringed fearing she was about to shoot him down and call him an old fool for thinking he had a shot at anything more than friendship.

His fears had died though as she leaned up her lips sliding along his cheek. “I would like that. Dinner would be nice.”

They had not looked back after that. She had become his beloved ol lady and the queen of SAMCRO.

It was a role she could admit she struggled to sink into. It was a role she was willing to take on for Filip Telford though.

Her mind pulled from the past as she spoke, her voice gentle and adoring. “I am here, Filip. I’m not going anywhere Baby.”

She spoke again, her hand leaving his cheek placing at his thigh sliding along the thick denim as she worked her hands upwards. “Let me take care of you, Baby. Just sit back and relax. Forget the books and let me make you feel good.”

He groaned, his head falling back she so easily knowing his body by this point. 

She slid her hands along his belt unfastening it and working his jeans open as she spoke. “Lift your hips up, Honey. Let me take care of this cock.”

He groaned obediently doing as she said, she worked his jeans and boxers down his hips, he kicking them down to rest around his ankles.

She rested between his parted thighs, her lips pressing to his knees working her way up slowly sliding along his warm skin.

She pressed soft adoring kisses to his skin, her voice low and full of sweetness. “You work so hard, Filip. You take care of everyone but who takes care of you?”

“You do, Love.” He remarked gazing down at her his hand reaching down to stroke her hair as she worked her lips up his thighs.

She gazed up at him as she spat in her hand before reaching forward placing a hand over his waking cock giving it a few lazy strokes working a moan from him. She kept her strokes light and teasing as she spoke. “I love taking care of you, Filip. You deserve it.”

He groaned as she slid a thumb along his sensitive tip smearing a hint of precum leaking from him, her voice soft. “My sweet man, takes good care of me. My angel.”

He groaned at the statement a drowsy giggle leaving him at the last part of her statement. “That’s my line, Love. Trus me, I aint no angel.”

She spoke a playful glint in her eyes as she spoke. “You are a devil sometimes, but a tempting one.”

He did not have a chance to reply as she leaned forward, her tongue sliding along the sensitive glans of his cock. She wrapped her lips around him her plush lips heavenly on his heated member. She kept her gaze locked on him as she eagerly bobbed her head.

He groaned his voice thick with lust as she worked him, taking more and more of him with each bob of her head. “Fuck, Lass. Take it, Love.”

She moaned around him, preening at the low curses that left his lips. He spoke as she took more and more of him down her throat, the heat making his cock throb. “Ye are so perfect, Love. Jus takin my cock like this, fuck. This was jus what I needed, my girl always knows what I need.”

She moaned around his cock relaxing her throat, breathing through her nose as she took him even deeper, he hitting the back of her throat with a cry of her name.

She gagged around him, Chibs placing a hand on the back of her head stroking her hair as she held him there. He grunted, resisting the urge to thrust against her knowing that this moment was meant to be a little gentler. She was focused on taking care of him. This was not a moment for a rough fuck.

She pulled up of him a disappointed groan leaving him. The disappointment did not last she wrapping a hand around his slick cock stroking it, his hand sliding along her cheek caressing it.

She kept her gaze up at him not helping but to find him beautiful in moments like this where he was feeling only pleasure. In her opinion he deserved all the pleasure in the world after he spent so much time worrying and stressing over everything and everyone. 

She was stunned as he pulled back from her his voice thick with desire. “Bend over this table, Love. Pull up this dress.”

She did as he said, pulling the little sundress she’d been wearing up over her hips as she bent over the Reaper table. 

Chibs groaned approvingly as he stared at her spotting the little pink thong she’d worn today.

He was unable to resist reaching forward, giving her backside a swat wanting to make her skin so flushed she matched the pink fabric of her panties.

He spoke the need so evident in his voice. “Need to fuck ye love. Been fillin wound up all day. Need to find some release.”

“Please, Baby. Do it. Want you to feel good.” She replied turning her head struggling to gaze up at him as he shoved the chair he’d been sitting in back managing to stand over her.

He yanked the thong she was wearing down she kicking it across the room. He ran his hands down her thighs, a groan leaving him as he spoke. “Yer so soft.”

He ran his hands along her inner thighs close to her bare center moaning at the hint of wetness that he discovered. “Shite, Love. Yer so soaked ye dripped down here.”

He ran his fingers along her slit, a groan of approval leaving him as he slid one finger between her lips. He added another finger thrusting them and scissoring them wanting to make sure she was ready for him. “Ye feel so good, m’angel. Gonna feel like heaven round this cock.”

She rocked back against his fingers, a low giggle leaving him. “Christ, look at ye. So Desperate fer me that you’ll take my fingers jus to get off. This pussy has been longin fer me aint it?”

“Always longing for you, Baby.” She replied the comment, working a smack to her backside from his free hand.

She whimpered when he pulled his fingers from her he chuckling at the reaction. “Jus wait, Love. Gonna give ye something more than my fingers.”

He brought his fingers up to his lips suckling her wetness from them, a low moan leaving him. “Shite, when I’m less desperate to be in ye, yer sittin on my face.”

She moaned at the suggestion not having long to focus on it as he took himself in hand sliding his hard cock along her center teasingly a groan leaving him.

She whined, her body trembling with anticipation knowing she was so desperate to be filled by him. No one filled her as well as Chibs Telford.

She spoke knowing just what to say. “Fuck me, Please. Give it to me.”

He groaned a hint of amusement clear in his voice. “Greedy, Lass.”

He gave in, thrusting forward his cock stretching her as her heat enveloped him fully to the hilt.

He groaned, his hands resting at her hips giving them both a moment to soak up the initial first thrust it always taking their breaths away.

He’d never imagined that when he came across that panicked woman on the side of the road that she’d one day be bent over the reaper table with his cock buried in her pussy and his crow on her back.

He groaned, pushing her hair aside, giving him a full view of the crow inked into her skin. She moaned knowing exactly what he was doing. He loved seeing the tattoo on her; a reminder that she was his and that she was in this life with him.

She had never anticipated that the odd Scotsman who had come to her rescue that day she’d been abandoned by her ex on the side of the road like trash, would become the love of her life.

She would have never believed she could find comfort in a world that was so dangerous nor with a man who society told her would only cause harm.

Chibs and the world that come with him had given her a sense of comfort though. It was a sense of belonging she had never known. He was her salvation in more ways than one.

She spoke the need she felt for him growing. “Please, Baby. Love me.”

“Always, m’angel.” He groaned, rocking in and out of her his movement starting out slow and gentle wanting to soak up the feel of her.

She did her best to rock back against him but found it difficult the table and his body keeping her sandwiched and helpless to his ministrations. She had a feeling though that this was his intention. 

She soaked up the feel of him rocking in and out of her so lovingly. He moaned from behind her the fact that she could not turn to see his face almost maddening. She adored how deep he managed to get in this position but found it frustrating to be unable to hold him or gaze up at him.

She made a silent promise to ask him to love her in a different position later; one where she could hold him and gaze into his eyes. 

For now though she was happy to bend over the table in chapel and let him work out his anxiety and stress on her body. She was delighted to please him. 

She gasped holding on to the side of the table digging her nails into the wood as she soaked up the feel of him sliding in and out of her, able to feel every vein and every pulse of him.

He was by far the most skillful lover she’d ever had and easily the most passionate.

He groaned, it not taking him long to give into need his thrusts growing more frantic cries of his name leaving her lips.

He spoke his voice thick with lust. “Fuck yes, Take my cock, Love.”

She whined reaching up to place a hand over her lips remembering that Tig was downstairs most likely within ear shot and who knew who else was around the clubhouse able to hear her cries of pleasure.

Chibs reached forward tugging at her hair pulling her head up his voice demanding. “Nah, none of that, Love. Take that hand off yer mouth. Don’t care who hears ye. Let em all know jus how good I fuck my ol lady. Let em hear me fuck my queen.” 

She did as she was told a cry leaving her lips he groaning at the sound praising her. “That’s my girl, fuck.”

He released her hair grasping back down on her hips using them for leverage as his thrusts became a little rougher, more cries of his name leaving her.

She whined knowing if she wasn’t currently bent over this table she would have collapsed to the ground with as good as he was making her feel.

She had long ago figured out that being fucked by Chibs Telford was a full body affair. He had a way of completely overtaking her and fucking her stupid. He could make her cock drunk with very little effort on his part and the arrogant jerk knew it too and used it to his advantage.

He spoke, his voice teeming with adoration and lust. “Needed ye so bad tonigh Love. Fuckin stressed outta my mind. Needed ye to come fuck the stress outta me. My good sweet queen, knew I needed er, aye?”

“Yes, Baby. Wanted to take care of you.” She whined the admission making him moan his grip on her hips tightening.

She whined as he spoke. “Touch yer clit, know it makes it so much better fer ye. Play with yerself Love.”

She did as she was told, reaching between her body and the table finding her clit the action clumsy but so rewarding.

She rubbed circular patterns into the sensitive bud, her knees trembling his name spilling from her lips.

She whined knowing at this rate she was going to cum far too quick. Chibs may have claimed he’d been wound up needing release all day, but she had to believe that she’d been in the same boat.

That was part of what had led her to the clubhouse tonight.

She spoke not caring how loud the volume of her voice was growing “You feel so good Filip.”

“Aye, ye feel like heaven Lass. Hot, wet heaven.” He groaned his hips slamming into hers the sound of his skin meeting hers and moans spilling out filling the room.

She gasped the stimulation to her clit and his cock sliding in and out of her working her so close to the edge. Chibs Telford’s dick had zero right making her feel this good.

She spoke, unable to stop the words from leaving her. “How are you this good at fucking me?”

“Lots of practice, Love.” He remarked not leaving a hint of arrogance from his voice.

The comment was quickly followed up with a low moan as he spoke again. “Was practicin fer ye. Jus didn’t know it yet.”

She whined gripping on to the table all the harder her body shuddering as he found that one spot in her that made her practically see stars. She did all she could to thrust back up against him, her fingers not letting up on her clit a cry leaving her. “Please, Filip, I’m so close, so fucking close.”

He groaned at the admission, a low growl leaving him. “Fuck, m’angel. Yeah, ye cum on this cock. Let it go fer me.”

She continued to rub tight little circles into her clit, a coil winding up tight in her belly growing more taunt by the second the sensations almost too much.

“Oh, Fuck, Filip. I’m cumming, I’m. Oh” The words spilled from her dissolving into unintelligible cries as she fell apart underneath him, her body trembling her pussy clenching around him.

He groaned doing all he could to keep rutting against her through her orgasm, the sensation of her falling apart below him always taking his breath away.

He had never thought he’d be worthy of someone so stunning and so gentle and lovely. He had never thought he’d take an ol lady but now that he had found one he knew he would never let her go.

He groaned his words thick with lust “Yer so fuckin gorgeous, m’angel. Jus stunning cummin round my cock. Christ, ye feel so good.”

She pulled her hand from her clit, the stimulation too much. She moaned against the table pathetically, her body limp and overstimulated. 

Chibs groaned not letting up his cock thrusting in and out of her soaked heat, she feeling even more sopping wet now that she’d cum all over him. 

He spoke knowing he would not last much longer now. He groaned uncertain if it was a side effect from the painful fact that he was getting older now in his fifties, or if it was just that the woman who gave him the privilege of fucking her was so good that he couldn’t last as long as he may have in his twenties. “Where do ye want it, Love?”

She whined it hitting her lust worn mind just what he was asking. She spoke, the answer seemed so clear. “In me, Baby.”

“Aye, ye want me to cum in ye, Love? Ye want me to fill this pussy?” He groaned knowing that she was the only woman he’d been with in so long where this was even an option.

The fact that she loved him and adored him enough to even give him the option made him adore her all the more.

“Please, Baby. Do it. Want it.” She barely managed to work out as he felt himself fall over the edge, his thrusts growing sloppy and rough.

He let out a groan as he fell apart, his last few thrusts practically knocking her against the table as he came spilling into her in hot thick spurts.

He groaned the words low and satisfied as they left him. “Fuck yes, take it. Perfect lass. Love ye so much.”

He practically collapsed against her, pressing her down into the table, his body bending to rest over hers, they both hot and damp with sweat.

He groaned as he reluctantly slid out of her the mess they made dripping from her. He groaned as he fell back into his chair, a moan leaving his lips at the sight of his cum dripping out of her well loved center.

He reached forward sliding his fingers across her slit causing her to moan she feeling over sensitive a low chuckle leaving him as he gathered their mixed releases on his fingertips.

He reached forward, his fingers sliding along her lips. She obediently ran her tongue along his fingers cleaning their release from them a groan of approval leaving him.

He spoke a heavy sigh leaving him. “Come here, Love.”

She stood up ignoring the smirk on his lips at how wobbly she was as she stood up his cum dripping down her thighs making her cheeks flush.

He scooted back, opening his arms she happily standing between his parted legs allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist.

He held her against him, she wrapping her arms around him. She ran her hand along the back of his head he burying his face against her stomach as she spoke reassuring him. “I’m not going anywhere Filip. I mean it, No matter how lost you feel…I’ll always find you.”

She paused as he gazed up at her his eyes filled with awe. “I love you Filip Telford.” 

“I love ye too, my queen.” He responded holding her all the tighter any worries he had about the future of the club were too far away to grasp.

He didn't know what the future held for the club, but he knew whatever it was he could manage it as long as he had her by his side.

[shaw-ni]

Steadyhands AU, post Edizzy divorce where after some therapy, an intervention from their friends and a break from each other which lasted a few weeks, Ed and Izzy’s relationships is firmly in the “ it’s complicated” option on Facebook (Izzy is a Facebook mum and does post pointed passive aggressive rants on his page daily). Ed starts bringing Izzy coffee during their lunch break, a large haf-caf cappuccino with coconut milk and one sugar (haf-caf because he needs some caffeine to keep himself awake but not enough to keep him trapped to the toilet seat). Ed has a new concoction every day, always with 7 pumps of what ever syrup they have on option, and coconut milk as well (which he gets to let Izzy have a taste, and even though it tastes like a headache and the cream is never dairy free, Izzy always tries at least one sip, he’s trying too, okay?). Thing is, the coffee might just be the best coffee he’s ever tasted, the first time Izzy tasted it (trying not to look into Ed’s big brown hopeful eyes) he almost moaned in bliss, but settled for a slight nod and a muttered “it’s good”, which might as well have been a Hollywood handshake coming from Izzy.

The coffee cups are damn adorable too, with little illustrated pirate ships and the ocean filled with sea creatures on the sides (and some weird swirly writing as well, probably the barista writing the order? Not sure what the hearts are about, who cares, cursive is beyond him). The coffee shop is called ‘the revenge’ which seems an odd name, but their Tattoo parlour is called ‘Queen Annie’, so who is he to judge (said Izzy never). There’s only one problem, however, every time Ed comes back from the coffee shop, he practically skips into the studio, smile dimpling his cheeks like he just ate something sugary sweet. And Izzy knows that smile, even though it’s been years since it’s been aimed at him, it’s almost enough to put him off his coffee (almost, it’s fucking good coffee, right!).

Anywho, this goes on for a couple of weeks, with Izzy gritting his teeth every time Ed prances through the Parlour doors, until one day Ed’s not here to give him his daily coffee fix ( he told Ed going clubbing with Jack was a bad idea, but what’s does he know? He’s only been on the wrong end of Jacks generous pours since before he was legally allowed to drink, but whatever). Beforehand, Izzy would of just used their shop owned coffee machine in the kitchen, but perhaps he’s been a tiny but spoiled these past few weeks because their Nespresso coffee capsule doesn’t sounds appealing at all (that, and he’s not sure when it was last cleaned). He eventually decides, fuck it, and grabs his coat to head out side. It doesn’t take him long to find ‘the Revenge’, the place has a distinctly 16th century feel to it, in that it looks like it’s came right of the set of a period drama. The outside of the shop resembling the front of a ship, equipped with a unicorn figurehead, intricate wood carvings and what appears to be several hand made flags (including the trans flag, which, fuck yeah).

Inside, the place is bustling with customers and live music, the pirate theme seems to continue with the interior and there is a relaxing low light illuminating the shop. The live music, a tall but awkward man playing sea shanties on stage, seems to be the reason for the large number of people in the shop, and fortunately the line behind the counter seems to be relatively short. He makes a beeline for the line and repeats his coffee order in his head (it pays to be prepared). After five minutes, the line has annoyingly, not budged an inch; at this rate he’ll end up late for his next appointment. Izzy stretches his head to peer over the few heads in front of him and notices a tall, blonde twat babbling away to the frazzled barista. Fucking twat.

“Oye, quit holding up the line, some of us have places to be,” Izzy yells over to said twat. Startled, the man turns towards Izzy, and oh shit, assholes shouldn’t be allowed to be pretty, Jesus Christ. Shit. The asshole looks directly at Izzy, his eyes seem to drift and then linger on his chest, before moving slowly back to his face. Shit. He must be feeling the effects of a caffeine withdrawal, the only explanation to why he suddenly feels so flushed.

“One moment, sir. We’re quite in the middle of something.” With that the twat turns back to the barista, picking up their conversation.

Never mind, the only thing he’s feeling now is pissed.

“Mate, I doubt this guy wants to listen to your sad attempt at flirting, just order your damn coffee and go.”

The blonde asshole splutters angrily? Embarrassedly? And turns his full body towards Izzy (Jesus, those shoulders don’t deserve this guy, not fucking fair).

“My attempts at flirting are not sad! You angry little man! And I’m not flirting, that would be unprofessional, considering I am attempting to converse with my own staff!” The man speaks in a way that emphasises the unspoken exclamation points in his speech without actually increasing the volume of his voice, his accent is familiar in the way a 5 year old might play Mary had a little lamb on the piano. And wait… did he just say his staff?

He scoffs. “ Your staff?.”

The asshole raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Mine.”

Izzy raises his own bushy eyebrow. “Well if I was you, I’d—”

“Oh, hey Izzy, didn’t think I’d see you here!”

Izzy turns too see his ex husband turned current best friend and forever love of his life weaving quickly through the crowd, suspiciously springy for someone who was supposed to be ‘too sick to work’ hungover.

Ed finally makes it through the cluster of people, and swings an arm around Izzy’s shoulder. He grins at Izzy and then weirdly enough at the blonde asshole Izzy was in the middle of arguing with. “I see you’ve met Stede!” He cups his hand to his mouth and mock whispers to the blonde twat, of course he’d have a pretentious name like Stede. “Man, Izzy here loves your cappuccinos, won’t drink it from anywhere else, he even said they were ‘not shit’ which coming from Izzy, is a five star review!”

Wait, what?

“He makes the cof—”

“He drinks the cappuccino?!?”

Izzy looks to the blonde prick, who seems to be turning an amusing shade of pink and oh… suddenly the hearts on the coffee cups make a lot more sense. Shit. Well isn’t this fucking fantastic.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Snowberries & Wolf Teeth

Vilkas x Farkas x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, kissing, F/M/M, brief mentions of Vilkas & Farkas’ beast forms, oral sex (female & male receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), multiple creampie, breeding, multiple positions, possessive behavior, alcohol, brief aftercare

Word Count: 3.4k

At the New Life Festival during Evening Star, the Wolf Twins make their claim on you.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Whiterun is bathed in luminous light.

Masser and Secunda are large in the night sky. Along with the two moons is an aurora of blue and green which only adds to the lights of the festival. Makeshift lamps line the streets of Whiterun. From them hang wreaths made of pine and snowberries. It’s true winter now. There is an intense chill in the air, and many within Whiterun predict that the first snowfall of the year will arrive any day.

Tonight, the citizens of Whiterun celebrate the New Light Festival. Typically, one of the major cities across Skyrim host the festival, especially where the Empire has a firm hold. Solitude is the most popular place to hold it, and while you’ve only been to the city a few times in your life, you’ve never gone during the New Light Festival.

This year, Whiterun is celebrating on its own, and the Companions are graciously allowing the festivities to be held in their mead hall, Jorrvaskr. You’ve been inside before, mostly to make an excuse to talk to Farkas or Vilkas. They both shower you with affection, and neither seems upset that the other chases after you. Sometimes, they actively pursue you together.

Will you eventually have to choose? Or are they willing to share? Is that even an acceptable outcome for either of them?

You move with the growing crowd toward Jorrvaskr. The large double doors are wide open, and from within the mead hall comes music and the rich scent of roasting meat. Many people linger around the Gildergreen or on the steps outside Jorrvaskr. Everyone is dressed in festive attire and groups of children chase each other, weaving through the crowd, giggling as they go.

As you enter Jorrvaskr, you’re immediately hit with a wall of warmth. Below, the firepit is blazing. Over it is roasting venison, chicken, and duck. Several members of the Companions stand around it, keeping an eye on the roasting meat. The doors to the courtyard are also open and the crowd spills out toward the Skyforge.

You walk along the interior wall of the mead hall, heading for the large barrels that contain mead. When you take your first sip, your body immediately warms from the bite of the alcohol. After grabbing a drink, you head for the sweets, selecting a tart to snack on while you wait for some of the meat to come off the fire.

The tart is coated with dusting sugar and syrup. It sticks to your fingers, and you’re constantly sucking on them to try and consume every sugary morsal.

From the back doors that lead out into the courtyard, you notice couples dancing. You smile, watching them move together in unison, chewing slowly on the tart as you watch them.

“Are you wanting to dance?”

You jump at the voice in your ear. Turning sharply, you laugh aloud as you realize who it is.

“You startled me, Vilkas.”

“My apologies,” he replies, retreating slightly.

While he wears his signature wolf armor, it’s all clean and polished to an immaculate shine. Over his right shoulder hangs a cloak of black. His black hair is slicked back and styled nicely. Vilkas is dressed for the occasion. He’s always been handsome to you, but this only highlights how attractive he is.

“Would you still like a dance?” he asks, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Could I have several?” you tease, delicately licking some of the sugary power off your thumb.

“As many as you wish,” he agrees, reaching out to snag your wrist. Vilkas brings your hand to his mouth, and he licks up a stray drop of syrup.

You finish the tart and mead quickly, handing off the empty mug to be cleaned. Then you slide your hand in Vilkas’, the two of you heading for the dancers. While a warrior, Vilkas does not step on your feet or mess up. He knows all the traditional dances of Skyrim, leading you through them so naturally it’s startling.

By the end of the third dance, you’re clutching your chest, a little winded but happy. His face is slightly flushed but he’s grinning widely, and you desperately wish to kiss him.

“A drink?” asks Vilkas, offering his hand.

“Please.” You slide your hand into his, and Vilkas escorts you to the doors of the mead hall.

With drinks in hand, you and Vilkas head for a quiet corner away from everyone else. You lean against the wall and Vilkas stands with his back to the room, creating a private cocoon. It’s intimate, and the closeness brings heat to your cheeks that quickly radiates outward to your limbs.

“I’ve been looking for the two of you.”

Farkas appears from behind Vilkas. He stands to Vilkas’ left, adding an extension to the cocoon. He is dressed nearly identical to Vilkas, except his hair which is loose and wild around his head. Farkas grins and you instantly melt.

Maybe it’s the mead, but you have a distinct feeling that cannot be the case. They always make every part of you tingle, usually in the most secret places, and this stepping around what you really want is starting to eat away at you. You want them, and you might as well go for it.

“It’s a little loud in here,” you reply. “Is there somewhere else we could go?” You purposefully lean into Vilkas while placing your hand on Farkas’ chest.

They both perk up. At first, they’re slightly confused, but they both realize exactly what you mean rather quickly. Vilkas’ grin is knowing and sultry, but Farkas blushes hard as he suddenly understands what you’re implying.

“This way,” nods Vilkas in the direction of the nearest set of stairs. They lead downward toward Jorrvaskr’s living quarters.

Glancing over his shoulder, Vilkas observes the room before placing his hand on your upper arm to steer you toward the stairs. Farkas follows too, creating a buffer so no one notices that you’re pressed in between them.

As Vilkas approaches the door, he places a hand against the wood, pushing it open enough for you to slip inside first. Farkas follows behind, and then Vilkas steps in behind his brother. When the door is in place, it completely shuts out the noise from the party.

It’s incredibly quiet down here. So much so that it takes a moment for you to realize that the three of you are not entirely alone. From the doorway in front of you leading into a sleeping area, you distinctly hear low moans of pleasure and the slap of skin against skin.

You step back and bump into Vilkas. His hand is on your waist, sliding over your lower back to eagerly grip your hip.

“Is that what you’re wanting? With us?” he whispers against your ear.

Yes. You’ve wanted it for weeks now.

“Is that okay?” you respond, wanting to make sure that they both agree to this.

Vilkas glances at his brother and Farkas nods in agreement. “We accept this.”

“Oh,” is all you say, as the couple just across the hall grow louder in volume.

Are you surprised by this? Not really, and yet you are. Did you fear rejection or even disinterest? Yes, but even that seems false. What reason have either of them given to make you suspect that they didn’t want you?

Vilkas’ hand on your waist is an anchor. His fingers dig into your hip as he pushes forward, guiding you away and down the hall. Farkas stands close enough that his arm brushes against yours, but he does not put his hands on you. It isn’t until the three of you turn down a short hall and enter a small bedroom that Farkas reaches out to touch.

Their hands are everywhere the moment the door to the little bedroom is shut. Vilkas is grabbing at your hips and waist, pulling you toward him while Farkas lightly tugs on your hair, arching your neck, exposing your throat for his mouth to place kisses on. Farkas begins at the hollow of your throat and works upward until he finds your lips.

The kiss is deep. Blistering. A demand.

When he breaks away, you’re breathless, wanting more of him. But Vilkas fills that void, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling you in to discover your taste. While Vilkas learns your mouth, Farkas’s hands roam over your back and sides, eventually settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezes through the fabric, and then gives it a light slap that causes your hips to jerk forward and into Vilkas.

Vilkas breaks away and laughs softly, one hand reaching up to unclasp the cloak hanging over his shoulder. He gently tosses it onto a nearby stool. Farkas follows suit, the two of them slowly undoing hooks and clasps to loosen their armor.

“Which part should we remove from you first?” asks Vilkas in a sultry purr. His gaze roams over your body, and his heated gaze leaves you feeling exposed.

“Everything should go,” answers Farkas as he reaches up to play with the adornments of threaded dried snowberries in your hair. “But these should stay. I like them.”

Vilkas nods. “I agree.” His chest plate falls away and he sets it down near the door.

The two of them are taking their time, watching you watch them. It’s a drawn-out dance. An anticipation.

When Farkas’ hands fall on your shoulders, you nearly jump in surprise. But he is entirely gentle when those fingers slip under the fabric to push it over and down your shoulders. Your dress surrenders to him, stopping briefly at your hips before completely falling to the floor at your feet. You are just as bare as they are.

The moment your nakedness is revealed, Vilkas’ nostrils flare like he’s inhaling your scent. His hands, which are at his sides, clench and unclench. All the while, Farkas’ hands are on your body, touching and caressing in soft strokes that chip away at your autonomy. They make you compliant and weak. Leaning back against him, you admire Vilkas’ muscled form.

He stalks forward, and every muscle ripples as he walks. When he’s close enough you reach out to touch him at the same moment he touches you. There is a hand around your throat, but you’re not sure which one it is.

Vilkas’ head tilts downward, his nose brushing your cheek as his lips meet yours. The sound he makes in his throat is low and feral. Hungry. Everything is tense, and the hands that touch you only tighten as if you’ll try to dart away like a frightened doe.

But you won’t run. Not from them.

Vilkas breaks the kiss and cups the sides your face in both of his hands. Those pale eyes of his are piercing, serrated and sharp like a blade. “Do you want this? Like we want this?” His gaze darts over your face, seeking confirmation.

You nod. “Yes. Please. I want—need, the both of you.”

Farkas’ hand slides over your stomach and between your legs. You gasp when his fingers run through your slickness. Using his index and middle finger, he parts your sex, and the moment he does, the two of them close their eyes, inhaling deeply.

There is something deeply primal about what they’ve just done. When they open their eyes there are small swirls of yellow there that weren’t there before. Vilkas’ lips part slightly, and you notice a sharpness to his canines.

“On the bed,” he murmurs. “Legs open.”

Farkas relinquishes his hold on you but Vilkas is right there, walking with you, sliding his hands up your legs once you fall back onto the bed and open them wide. His hovers between them only a moment before his head dips and his tongue slides over your sex.

It is a shock of sensation, one that ripples up to the crown of your head and to the tips of your toes. Vilkas feasts, alternating between licking, sucking, and kissing, seeking out what will make you come undone.

The bed dips near your head. Farkas is there, his hand sliding under your head to tangle in your hair. He is careful of the adornments, guiding you up onto your elbows. You know what he wants, and you obediently open your mouth, presenting your mouth to him.

He groans, and rubs the head of his cock on your tongue before you close around him. Vilkas swirls his tongue around your clit at the same moment you swirl your tongue around the head of Farkas’ cock. Your pussy clenches, relaxes, and then Vilkas slides a finger inside of you to the knuckle.

Vilkas pumps in time with the movement of his tongue while your head bobs up and down Farkas’ cock. Farkas’ hold on the back of your head is strong but not domineering. He isn’t controlling this. He’s allowing you to take charge.

Vilkas sucks your clit into his mouth and you moan around Farkas’ cock, the muscles in your thighs tightening, wanting to close around Vilkas’ head. He sucks again and Farkas’ cock pops from your mouth. Your hand goes out to grasp the base but it’s more to settle you than him. Vilkas has found that rhythm, and he is working you quickly toward an end.

He sucks again. Swirls his tongue. Then you’re sinking into yourself as the orgasm bubbles up and consumes you. The room you’re in grows a bit distant, and then it all comes hurtling forward as Vilkas continues to tease your clit with his tongue.

Your back aches off the bed, and someone’s hand is around your throat, guiding you to a seated position as Vilkas pushes up from between your legs, one hand still moving casually between them.

“Do you want me here?” he asks slowly, pumping his finger in and out of your pussy. “Or would you like me here?” Removing his fingers, he presses the sticky tips to your lips, dragging them across your flesh, leaving a glossy trail behind.

Your lips part and Vilkas takes that as an answer. With their hands on you, you don’t need to move. They guide you into position. Vilkas reclines in the bed, back against the headboard while you go onto your hands and knees between his legs.

Farkas settles on the bed behind you, his hands rubbing up and down your back before going to your hips, easing them up slightly for a better angle. You wrap your hand around the base of Vilkas’ cock at the same moment Farkas presses down a bit, arching your back, forcing your legs to slide open.

You pump Vilkas a few times before leaning in to kiss the tip. A pearly bead of precum blooms in the slit, and you eagerly lick it up with the tip of your tongue. Another blooms in its place, and you swirl your tongue around the flared head before licking the entire length of from base to tip.

Behind you, Farkas lines himself up, the head of his cock catching on your entrance, easing slowly inch by inch. He’s gentle, rolling his hips in light, shallow thrusts that allow your body to acclimate to him. A few more strokes and Farkas slides home to the hilt.

You’re full. Stretched. Filthy and feral.

You take the head of Vilkas’ cock into your mouth, holding him there while the salvia collects. Then, you swallow him down, your lips touching your hand as Farkas retreats before thrusting forward.

Hollowing your cheeks, you slide back up, and then repeat the process, bringing in your hand to pump him in time with your upward passes. Farkas moves one hand to your waist while the other stays on your hip, his pelvis slapping against your ass with each thrust.

Farkas thrusts. Grinds his hips forward. Hold there a moment. “Shall we make her ours?” he asks. You cannot see his face but you can see Vilkas. The corner of his mouth twitching until it pulls into a full smile.

“Haven’t we?” he replies, one eyebrow arching.

“She needs our marks.” You feel Farkas’s hand slide upward to clutch the back of your neck. He pulls you off Vilkas’ cock, bringing you flush against his chest. His other hand slides forward to cradle your stomach. “And our whelp, too.”

Vilkas’ grows burning hot. The swirling yellow intensifies. “And what does she say to this?” His head tilts to the side slightly, appraising you.

You’re still pressed against Farkas, his cock buried deep within you. “I want the both of you. In all ways.”

Farkas’ pleased groan against your throat goes straight to your pussy. You clench around him and his fingers reflexively dig into your skin.

“Give her to me, Farkas.”

The loss of Farkas’ cock is immediate. He draws away just as Vilkas sits up entirely and pulls you into his lap, turning you around to lay back against him. Vilkas’ hands slide forward to the backs of your thighs and then hook under your knees. He draws them to your chest and Farkas is already moving, returning to your body easily. Farkas places one hand against the wall above Vilkas while the other presses into your hip. You’re trapped between them, and the sensation is lovely.

You’re entirely at their mercy, and it feels good. It feels right.

Farkas uses the leverage of the wall to set a pounding rhythm that shakes the bed. You rest your head against Vilkas’ shoulder and surrender to them.

But Vilkas is not idle.

He adjusts his grip on one of your knees enough that he can reach between you and Farkas’ bodies to rub your clit. You’re already sensitive from when his tongue was on you, and a few well-placed strokes have you clenching around Farkas.

Farkas groans, hips slamming forward as he finishes. His chest heaves but he doesn’t immediately pull out. Instead, the hand on your hip disappears to grab the lower-half of your face. He draws you to him enough that he can lean down and kiss you.

“It’s my brother’s turn,” he murmurs against your mouth.

Farkas draws back, and then Vilkas is lifting you into his lap, lining himself up to sink inside. Your groan loudly, toes curling as he settles to the hilt. There is nothing left for you to do but hold on as he guides you up and down his cock.

“Touch yourself.”

Sighing, you slide your hand between your spread legs to work yourself. Each thrust and every stroke of your hand sends a little tremor through your legs. Vilkas makes a sound deep in his throat as he nuzzles your neck. He continues to rock his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts until your breath comes in short gasps of pleasure. Your eyes begin to close, eyelids fluttering with every tingle in your clit.

“You’re ours,” murmurs Vilkas against your flesh. “Ours.” On that final word, he growls, and holds you in place as he thrusts up into you.

His grunts and your groans fill the room. It isn’t until you come down from an orgasm that you realize that Vilkas is done, merely waiting for you to join them in reality. Every bit of you is sore and the dried bead-like snowberries in your hair clack together as Vilkas helps you out of his lap.

Farkas is right there with a damp cloth, sliding it between your legs to wipe away the stickiness. His movements are slow, and once he’s done, Vilkas is pulling you into his arms, snuggling down into the furs. Farkas slides in on your other side, their bodies intertwining with yours, creating a nest of limbs.

Their bodies are warm like a fire in a hearth. There is an arm around your waist, on your hip, cupping a breast. They settle into rest, but do not sleep. You are the one who drifts, and it is they that coax you back when their need for you grows too great.

If morning comes, you are not aware. And if night follows, you are unaware of that. You are aware of their tongues and teeth. You are aware of how they pass you between them, keeping you full and perfectly pliant to their every demand.

“We’re never letting you go, sweet one,” murmurs Vilkas before he sucks a nipple into his mouth.

Farkas’ hand slides to the front of your throat, pulling you back until you’re looking at him. “Never.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @wrathofcats @ninman82

[trolls-with-tails]

Introducing Gumball, a species I created known as a Bubble Dragon! He is the main transport for a group of misfit trolls known as The Rag-Tags (featured in a fic I have in the works) that supports their nomadic lifestyle by flying all over the world!

If you would like to create a Bubble Dragon of your own, go for it! As long as you tag me and give me credit ^^

Facts/Other Information about Bubble Dragons:

Extendable necks

Tend to be very sleepy and lazy, but are incredibly affectionate and loyal

Like a parrot, they can mimic voices, different kinds of sounds, and music (they LOVE to mimic their favorite people and sing along with them)

Smell sweet, like different kinds of candy

Breathe bubbles that explode on impact

Antennae, wings, nose, spines, and tail fluff glow in the dark

The nose and bulbs on the antennae can shine a bright light like a headlight

Diet consists of sweet, sugary tree sap

Like Rhonda, Bubble Dragons are biological vehicles with interiors made to match, possessing a different amount of floors, rooms, and furniture depending on their size and maturity. How do these extra additions come about? Who knows

Can shield themselves and their companions in protective bubbles

Windows on their sides can be any shape; have a hull on the front of their chest where the control panel and steering wheel are located

Passengers enter the interior through their mouth

Come in bright, candy-like colors

Tend to grow to be larger than Rhonda

[peachdues]

Hey Peach! Can you rank your favorite Hashira in order? Would love to hear your placements! Just.for fun ofc 😆

Ooooh okay so my top hashira are ranked as follows:

1. Sanemi Shinazugawa — no one is surprised. I love how tragic his character is, and I’m always, ALWAYS a sucker for the “hard exterior, marshmallow interior” trope. I’m also a whore for men who do not want to be alive yet somehow, outlive everyone around them.

2. Shinobu Kocho — I think she’s one of the most interesting female characters in recent media. I adore that beneath her sugary sweet and cool facade she is BOILING with anger. I love that she’s violent and has no compunctions about torturing demons. But she still has retained that warmness for the people she holds close, and AH. I just adore her.

3. Giyuu Tomioka — He and Sanemi are two sides of the same coin, they just express themselves differently. I also love the moments when his underlying emotions break through — I think it really says something for how powerful they are. Plus, he’s adorable and clueless.

4. Mitsuri Kanroji — gimme a hyper-feminine girl who can out-eat sumo wrestlers and is so insanely strong that she rips Muzan’s arm off with her bare hands any day. I’m her slut.

[nahoney22]

Hi! I am such a big fan our your writing and every time I see you pop up on my dash I get so excited!! 🤍🤍

If you are looking for ideas, how do you think the batch would react to you trying to throw them a collective birthday party? I know they don’t really have a “birth”day but maybe they agree to celebrate on a specific date (maybe an important day for them)?

Birthday Surprise

All Bad Batch X GN!Reader

word count: 883 words

warnings: none, fluff. Platonic relationships.

authors note: so sorry for the wait, this is only short but I was drawing blanks and I’d rather post something than nothing at all. Hope this is okay ♥️

As rumors of a surprise spread among the members of the Bad Batch, excitement and curiosity filled the air. Each member pondered over what awaited them, their imaginations running wild. But as they stepped inside the Marauder, their jaws dropped in surprise.

The interior of the ship had been transformed into something neither of them could ever imagine. Vibrant balloons floated cheerfully, adorning every corner, while colorful banners draped the walls, displaying the message ‘happy birthday’. A massive birthday cake, meticulously crafted (that none of them would believe that you made if you told them) took center stage on the control panel in the cockpit, its sugary aroma tantalising the senses of certain clones.

Hunter couldn't hide his surprise as he glanced around. "What's all this?" he inquired slowly, his eyes locking onto your mischievous grin.

"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed, a twinkle in your eyes.

The confusion on Tech's face was evident as he analysed the unexpected scene. "To whom are we celebrating?" he inquired, searching for answers amidst the festive chaos.

"All of you!" you proclaimed, your response causing Tech's brows to furrow even deeper as he struggled to comprehend the unusual situation unfolding before him.

Wrecker, ever the cheerful and boisterous one, erupted with joy, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Do we even have a birthday?” He wasted no time in donning a party hat, playfully placing one on Omega's head as well. He even attempted to coerce Echo into joining the festivities, though Echo's patience dwindled with each failed attempt, swatting Wrecker's hands away until the pink hat finally sat on his head.

“Well, with thanks to Omega she told me that you guys were actually… made….?” You trail off, unsure if that was the right terminology to use but it was clear to them what you meant, “on this day!”

Hunter chuckled and with a playful kick, he sent a balloon soaring across the room. "Really?" he inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You nodded, a broad smile spreading across your face. Extending your hand, you exchanged a high-five with Omega, who beamed at her brothers. "Absolutely," you confirmed, your voice brimming with genuine enthusiasm. "I thought it would be a fantastic idea for you guys to celebrate something special, together!"

"That is rather interesting information for me to log, actually. I was never aware that it was this particular date," Tech remarked, a faint smile gracing his lips as he pulled out his data pad to record the newfound knowledge. "Although this type of celebration is not necessary for the likes of us. We were made to be expendable, not to have celebrations."

"Oh, lighten up, Tech," Crosshair chimed in, his voice laced with playful sarcasm. He swiped a bit of frosting from the cake with his finger and licked it off, savoring the sweetness. "Say thank you."

"I believe you are yet to say that," Tech quipped, glancing at his brother over the top of his data pad. Crosshair smirked in response, then turned his gaze toward you.

"They already know I am," he acknowledged, gratitude shining in his eyes.

Tech looked at you and offered a small smile. "I apologize. This is great. Thank you."

"No worries, it's just a little something," you replied cheerfully, refusing to let their banter dampen the festive atmosphere. After all, with cake, games, and party hats involved, it was hard to feel anything but joy.

The day unfolded seamlessly, with the boys and Omega basking in the celebration. Laughter filled the air as they reminisced about past missions, sharing humorous anecdotes that never failed to bring a smile to their faces. At one point, you pulled Echo aside, quietly reminding him that although the day wasn't specifically tailored to him, it actually coincided with the time when he joined the others.

"This is really kind of you," Echo expressed, seated beside you amidst the lively music within the Marauder.

"You guys have done a lot for me! It's only fair that you get a treat, even if it's just once a year," you responded softly, observing everyone's enjoyment. Even Crosshair seemed to be reveling in the fun.

As the night neared its end, each of the boys approached you individually, surprising you with heartfelt gestures of appreciation. They expressed their gratitude with hugs, while Tech opted for a handshake, true to his analytical nature. Crosshair, unexpectedly, even gave you an awkward side hug before retreating to his bunk, a smudge of frosting lingering on the corner of his lips.

"This meant a lot to us. Thank you," Hunter conveyed, being the last to embrace you. As he rubbed gentle circles on your back, you could sense the sincerity behind his words. He had always believed that he and his brothers didn't deserve the recognition they received, but seeing them all calm and content for once on their "birthday" made it all worthwhile. The vibrant and bold colors of the celebration had momentarily overwhelmed his senses, but he chose to say nothing, not wanting to spoil the experience for the others or undermine your effort.

With hearts full of gratitude and newfound memories to treasure, the boys all settled down to sleep, their hopes eagerly fixed on the promise of next year's celebration, just around the corner.

Masterlist

Tags; @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 7 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @imalovernotahater @crystal076 @blustalker @the-good-shittt @s1st3r @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness @nunanuggets

[bowlzone]

Today's cereal is South Korean Oreo O's!

Initial Impressions: Ever since I heard murmurings from the wider cereal community that the South Korean Oreo O's are the superior take on the concept, they have been at the top of my review list. This review is a chunky one, so the rest is under the cut!

Before we get into my thoughts on the box, let's take a detour back to the ancient history of the 90s to understand why these Oreo O's hit different. The original US run of Oreo O's happened between 1997 and 2007, when Kraft (who own the rights to Oreos) and Post (who own the rights to the cereal recipe) had an acrimonious break up. Both unwilling to give up their respective half of the Oreo O key, Oreo O's ceased production in the US. However, this was not the end, for another Oreo O was made. Kraft acquired a Korean food company, Dongsuh Foods, who had the rights to distribute Post products and so a perfect loophole was found. As of 2017 you can get Oreo O's in the USA again, but they are not the original recipe. It's my understanding that the closest you can still get to the 1990s Oreo O is the Korean version, which is still based on that classic recipe, or close to it. I have no nostalgia for Oreo Os as, despite living in the US during at least some of that time, my parents outlawed the consumption of sugary cereals with an iron fist. Now, as an adult in charge of my own sugar consumption, I have never been so excited to eat something. They start strong with a box that is truly a piece of art, featuring what can only be described as a milk elemental in cool shades. The interior, a shiny silver bag that comes with an immensely appreciated re-sealing sticker, is a lot hardier than the clear cereal bags I'm used to and tests my feeble upper body strength in opening it. The chocolaty aroma already promises a sublime cereal experience.

Post bowl thoughts: poring these into the bowl I immediately noticed that they are much more restrained with their marshmallow pieces (or marbits) than American cereals typically are, perhaps because they know the cereal pieces themselves can carry the bowl. The relatively tasteless marbits instead add a nice textural component to the bite, instead of being a main flavour. The cereal itself is truly the star of the show here, with a rich chocolate flavouring and a satisfying crunch that lasts the whole way through the bowl, resisting any kind of sog. It's interesting as the main grain used here is corn, but it avoids all of the disappointing hollow nothingness of other modern corn cereals. Combined with the milk they really are reminiscent of an Oreo, if slightly missing the texture of the the cream. The milk left in the bowl is fine, but its main contribution is to the texture of each spoon here, so I'm not left disappointed that the final slurp is missing a certain allure. These have immediately unseated American Oreo O's from my top five cereals list. Without the slightly over the top sweetness that the US ones have, it feels like you could keep eating these for hours and never get sick of them. Despite the almost unreasonable excitement I held in my heart for this bowl, it did not disappoint. A fantastic cereal.

[whispersfromtheshadowsoffical]

If Mc had a orchard, what baked treat would the yanderes want if they had a choice of fruit?

Hello! Thank you for sending in an ask! This one is so cute!

Apollo would probably want some lemon bars! He loves anything sour and sweet that will make his face scrunch up! He also loves oranges so anything that had an orange flavor he would jam with as well!

Soren's all about the sweetness. If he had his way, his cake would be over-the-top indulgent, with layers of icing on the inside, a thick coat of icing covering the outside, and a generous scattering of sprinkles to top it all off. The flavor would probably be raspberry, adding a fruity, slightly tart twist to balance all that sugary goodness. On the other hand he hates chocolate.

Nox has a taste for richer, more indulgent desserts. Dark chocolate brownies or a hearty blueberry cobbler would appeal to him, providing a depth of flavor that matches his protective nature. While he doesn’t indulge in sweets often, he’s open to enjoying whatever you prepare for him. He hates anything super sweet.

Lynx's taste would probably lean towards something classic yet satisfying, like a cinnamon apple pie. The warm, spicy notes of cinnamon combined with the sweet, comforting flavors of baked apples seem fitting for his complex personality. It’s a dessert that balances familiarity with a hint of indulgence, much like Lynx himself—arrogant yet deeply attached, with a flavor that’s both comforting and a bit commanding.

Xenos's taste leans towards the darker, more intense flavors of berries. A dessert featuring blackberries or cherries would be right up his alley—something with a bit of tartness and depth that matches his mysterious and obsessive nature. Imagine a blackberry tart with a rich, buttery crust or a cherry clafoutis with its sweet, custardy interior.

Kaine’s taste would likely gravitate towards peach desserts, which offer a blend of sweet and slightly tangy flavors that match his flirtatious and playful personality. He might enjoy a juicy peach cobbler with a crisp, buttery topping, or a refreshing peach sorbet that highlights the fruit’s natural sweetness. Peach desserts carry a certain lightness and vibrancy, aligning with Kaine’s confidence and his love for eliciting reactions.

[clatterbane]

About to try some of my own inaugural batch of homemade vanilla ice cream, made the lazy way using some of that commercial pouring custard!

Seemed like a good time now that it's firmed up well in the freezer, and my blood sugar has gone back down from a late supper.

Made using the ice cream freezer attachment that Mr. C also decided to pick up to go with the stand mixer. We hadn't actually tried it out yet (though I had vaguely been thinking about it), until he got a brainstorm the other day and picked up some ingredients including a couple of cartons of the vaniljsås, washed the ice cream maker, and stuck the base into the freezer.

He made a smaller low effort test batch last night, using just a carton of the custard and an eyeballed splash of cream. It tasted good, if a little light on the sweetness. But, the texture left something to be desired--especially after it froze up completely in the freezer afterward. Definitely good for a first attempt.

That still went fast enough that I decided to get the (still very cold!) thing washed and back into the freezer last night, to be ready to play around with it myself this evening.

So, I also went for a tweaked version of the same basic approach. Being the person I am, I worked with a couple.of ice cream recipe calculators on the web to get a better idea of ingredient proportions to aim for and why--and then just winged it with some packaged custard thrown in.

The base recipe I settled on:

150ml whole milk, warmed in the microwave at around lunchtime with 100g of extra sugar dissolved into it (then covered and stuck in the fridge to chill)

200ml custard (hey, may as well count that as milk plus some bonus stabilizers!)

Heavy cream to top the measuring cup up to a UK pint/close enough to 600ml total

Around 1/3 tsp. extra vanilla extract

Small pinch of salt

Still pretty simple, but that thinned it out some and brought the milkfat/sugar roughly into recommended ranges for mouthfeel and freezing qualities. Still a tad light on the sugar, but the finished ice cream tasted plenty sweet to me. It did also freeze a little hard, so I may need to play around some more.

It looked like a good quantity of ice cream mix for that size of freezer bowl, which does seem to turn out a decent two-person batch.

Some in the disconcerting interior color bowl, with some store brand sauce at the ready! That type is basically like runnier Nutella, and not surprisingly worked really well on the vanilla. Without palm oil, before self-righteous randos crawl up into my notes.

This did also freeze up a little hard and slightly crystally, which may have been partly because it could have used a few more minutes in the ice cream maker before I put it into that potato salad tub and froze if the rest of the way. I think it really was a little too soft, but patience really isn't my strong suit.

Mr. C ate a pretty big bowl before he went to bed, while it was still at the soft serve stage (after at least 45 minutes in our really cold freezer), and seemed to enjoy it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Next time up, I am tempted to go more complicated and try for a fairly simple blueberry cheesecake flavor, using some cream cheese and frozen berries.

I also want to try to make some serviceable good old American style sherbet, since you just can't find it elsewhere. Haven't eaten any for at least 15 years now. (The straight orange ice cream you can get here is pretty damned good, though. And I bet it would make at least as good a float with ginger ale or 7-Up.) I do suspect the whole texture thing may be trickier, without industrial ingredients and equipment.

Chocolate is another to-do, but at least it is way easier to find good plain chocolate ice cream without chunks of gluteny brownies and shit in stores here than it was in the UK.

In the somewhat near future, I also want to play around with some other sweeteners including erythritol to make something lower carb, but sticking to easier mode with all sugary stuff until I get more experience working with that. With all the milkfat and some protein to help buffer the carbs, ice cream is relatively easy on my blood sugar anyway. Seems to be a pretty common thing, at least for T1s. I may have actually overshot the insulin for that bowl, so it may be another little snack soon.

But, good investment--even if it did take us a while to finally start using it!

[lpvncnt]

* ◟ : 〔 TAMINO , CIS-MALE + HE / HIM 〕 PHILIP GOFFIN-VINCENT , some say you’re a TWENTY-SEVEN YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both DOGGED and DEPRAVED, one can’t help but think of STRUGGLIN' by TRICKY, MARTINA TOPLEY-BIRD when you walk by. are you still a CLEANER, ACTIVE ASSASSIN at THE BORDERLINE HOTEL, RED EYE even with your reputation as THE GARGOYLE? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and STUPID SHOW-PONY HIGH ROLLER, PATIENT LIKE THE HYENA WAITS, GET IN YOUR CAR AND RUN ME OVER INSTEAD OF WAITING FOR OTHERS TO DO IT FOR YOU, YOU LAZY FOOL, although we can’t help but think of JONATHAN CRANE (DC COMICS) + ERIC DRAVEN (THE CROW) + JASON DEAN (HEATHERS) + ANTON CHIGURH (NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

FILE: LIP VINCENT

STATUS: ACTIVE. HEIGHT: 6'2". SEXUALITY: PANSEXUAL, AROMANTIC. DATE OF BIRTH: 12/25/1995 HOMETOWN: MALMEDY, BELGIUM. RESIDING: BROOKLYN, NY. ROOMMATE WITH [TBD WANTED CONNECTION].

Instead of the usual biography, I felt like the following poem captured the energy of the past a bit better than I could ever express:

INSOMNIAC

THE night is only a sort of carbon paper,

Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars

Letting in the light, peephole after peephole --

A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.

Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus

He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness

Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.

Over and over the old, granular movie

Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days

Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams,

Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful,

A garden of buggy rose that made him cry.

His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks.

Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars.

He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue --

How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening!

Those sugary planets whose influence won for him

A life baptized in no-life for a while,

And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby.

Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods.

Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good.

His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.

Each gesture flees immediately down an alley

Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance

Drains like water out the hole at the far end.

He lives without privacy in a lidless room,

The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open

On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations.

Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats

Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments.

Already he can feel daylight, his white disease,

Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions.

The city is a map of cheerful twitters now,

And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank,

Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.

— Sylvia Plath

AESTHETICS

Repugnant amount of weed smoke filling a suspension-lacking 1966 Cadillac Coupe DeVille, that only a 100% masochist would drive in New York. You were not born to cry. Leopard print BB belts stacked on the waist. A soul, emptied. No pride, no pleasure, no desire. Life is just like a Wong Kar-Wai movie. You've got two fists comically full of metal, the weight shifts you off your feet when that punch is thrown, your poorly welded home-made 'rings' -- made from a chunk of all the old silver jewelry you've collected from the bodies over time, all these precious keepsakes melted onto a fork -- made to hurt -- should be illegal. Lots of little projects like that scatter what you call 'home'. An angel dies every time a shitty fuckboy like you flashes his mid-section in local Bodega for no reason. Recently adopted a Belgian Malinois, Osiris, who is still in training and needs a muzzle (an excuse for enabling bad behavior, could be symbolic). Egregiously loud mumble-rap. When stressed, likes watching ballroom dancing while chainsmoking cigarettes.

Hi, I'm Samuel, 24, PDT, a sweet little Californian baby boy who will do tricks for treats, gee whiz am I glad to be here. All of this is a bit vague but will be fleshed out with time -- if you've got any questions on specifics I'd be super happy to clarify. Huzzah !

[chelemlem]

tagged by @mecachrome <33

last song i listened to: spotify says don't worry you will by lovelytheband but pretty sure it was red wine supernova again 😔

favorite color: sugary pink!!! (+ its derivatives) and bright citrusy orange

currently watching: isolated eps of hatecrimes md with my friend. idk anyth about this show <3 also queen of tears

sweet/savory/spicy: like em all. just a basic flavorluvr

current obsession: archdigest's "3 interior designers makeover the same [x]" series on youtube..... love watching how diff styles & design philosophies come into play to create completely unique spaces. there is always a Clear Winner 👍

last thing i googled: "house amber death episode" bc we wanted to know which season it was from LOL

tagging @dumbf1sketches and @roosterhouse if u want <3

[galraluver]

Can we get Commander Mar on a cozy date with a gender neutral SO at a pastry café on a snowy day please?

Oooo, that sounds nice! Consider it done ❄️😊

_________________________________________

By some miracle Mar managed to survive thanks to (Y/n), Haggar’s human assistant who actually valued people's lives, unlike their mentor who could care less if someone lived or died. By helping him escape (Y/n) put themself and him in danger, so once he could walk again they both escaped central command together so neither of them wouldn't get killed. At first Mar and (Y/n) started off as strangers and they both eventually became friends, but as time went on they developed feelings for each other and Mar began courting (Y/n). (Y/n) didn't mind being courted the galra way, although they really wanted to go out on a real date with their big burly significant other. There was a planet in the solar system they lived in that had a winter cycle almost identical to Earth's with snow and everything, they selected it for their date location with Mar since it wasn't too far away.

Mar valued his relationship with (Y/n) and, even though he was old-fashioned, he was willing to try partaking in the human version of courtship. To be perfectly honest, he really liked the idea of going out on a date with his human lover and agreed that they would do it soon; he let them plan it though, it was the least he could do since they seemed so excited about it. After doing a little research (Y/n) found a pastry café and chose it as the date location they would go on with Mar; they couldn't wait to go out on a real date with him for the first time. To help his intended mate to stay warm during their date Mar gave (Y/n) a warm winter coat, one of which they were grateful for once they found out how cold the planet would be. The café was a lot nicer than (Y/n) expected it to be, in a way it reminded them of a pastry café on another planet; the fireplace was a nice touch to the interior decor and the smell of freshly baked pastries smelled amazing to the human.

“It smells so nice here, it kind of reminds me of home.” (Y/n) spoke quietly after they and Mar entered the cafe’, smelling different delicious smells as soon as he opened the door for them.

“It's one of the rare treasures in this part of the universe, not even Zarkon would allow it to be destroyed.” Mar replied as he followed (Y/n) in; the scent of pastries smelled good to him, he'd forgotten how much he missed them since he rarely got the opportunity to eat sweets.

“All this time I didn't know that this place existed, I'm glad that we got to come here.” (Y/n) said while they and their boyfriend walked towards the front counter; luckily there wasn't too long of a line and they wouldn't have to wait for very long.

Mar was glad that he agreed to go out on a date with his human significant other, he liked how cute they were when they were excited. Each time someone in front of them got served he and (Y/n) took a couple of steps forward, getting closer and closer to the counter until it was their turn to order. Both of them had a look at the menu attached to the back wall to see what looked best; there was a good selection of pastries, although it didn't take (Y/n) and Mar very long to choose something tasty. They told the person behind the counter what they wanted and Mar paid for their orders, then the person gave them the pastries and drinks they’d ordered. Mar and (Y/n) went to go sit at a booth that was right in front of a window, giving them a wonderful view of the snowy scenery outside.

“Mmmm, this is really good.” (Y/n) hummed in satisfaction after they took the first bite of the Maajoren croissant they'd ordered; the flakiness tasted good, although it had a slightly more sugary taste to it compared to a regular croissant.

“This mini Tameks veal meat pie is as well; I'm glad that we got to do this. We should do this again.” Mar responded after he'd eaten the first bite of the mini meat pie he ordered, admitting that he liked going out on dates.

“Are you saying that you want to go out on another date with me?” (Y/n) queried whilst lightly biting their bottom lip in hopes of going out on another date with their rugged significant other.

“I suppose that I am.” Mar answered as a slight smile tugged at his lips.

“Then I would be happy to go out with you again.” (Y/n) replied happily, beaming at him before they took another bite of their croissant.

Mar flicked his ears prior to returning his attention to his meat pie before it got cold; he really liked being out on a date with (Y/n) and he honestly wouldn't mind going out with them more often, as long as they were careful not to be found out by Haggar. Eating pastries in a café on a snowy mountain was pure bliss for (Y/n), it was the best first official date with their boyfriend that they could have asked for. Before they accidentally ended up in space (Y/n) never would have expected there to be planets with snow or for there to be pastry cafés, the universe was truly very mysterious and wondrous. After spending so many years as Haggar’s assistant they'd forgotten what it felt like to truly live, and if they hadn't of rescued Mar then they would have never found their first real love. Mar and (Y/n) decided to check out a few of the other businesses while they were on the planet, but only after they were finished with their lunch date.