#take a shot every time i say comb

[ozziesdisco]

They should invent a hair thats always combed and has no tangles

[silkenedstars]

Asking them to help with your tail ♡

₊✦Honkai: Star Rail | Argenti, Aventurine x Fem!Foxian!Reader ✦₊

₊✦ part i | part ii | part iii ✦₊

Additional Notes: This concept has been haunting me and I don't think I'll ever be rid of it. Also 3 parts instead of just 1 because I messed up and wrote the other 4 as one-shots instead of headcanons. 🥲

Asking Argenti to help you out turned out to be a mistake. Not because he was terrible at it — far from it — but because he now insisted on taking care of your tail on a daily basis.

You weren't good at telling people no when they looked at you so adoringly either, so suffice to say that Argenti got his way every single time.

Strings of praise and compliments would leave his lips in a gentle coo each time as he diligently brushed your tail. Though that wasn't all he did, no. Argenti liked to take it a step further by helping you wash your tail to help keep it healthy and clean.

It almost made you hesitant to ask him for help regarding any other part of your body. As much as you loved the feeling of his hands, you weren't sure you'd be able to handle it if he started touching you everywhere every single day.

Though, you did wonder how he was finding the time to take care of your tail so thoroughly considering how busy he tended to get helping every single person he came across.

✿❀✿

Thanks to Aventurine, you never really struggled with taking care of your tail in the first place, and especially when it came to the bothersome knots that liked to appear in the most inconvenient places.

While he didn't directly help you, the products he bought to keep your tail healthy and fluffy certainly did. Aventurine made sure to restock them every now and then to ensure you wouldn't run out, uncaring of how expensive each item was.

That wasn't to say that he didn't like directly helping you either.

Though it was unnecessary given that you didn't need his help, his eyes lit up each time you asked him to comb your tail anyway.

He'd always try to hide it after, and while you humoured him, the way he'd sometimes get distracted and brush his fingers against your tail fondly told you more than enough.

✿❀✿

[venmondiese]

A KING’S FAREWELL

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: As King Aegon II prepares to fight at Rook Rest, you accompany him before he departs.

✧Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Female Reader.

✧word count: 2k

✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v, fluff and angst, reader is aegon's mistress, slight foreshadowing to aegon's fate, aegon depressed for jaehaerys.

✧NOTE: i saved these from drafts, this was supposed to come out after episode 4, so all the events are from ep 4.

AEMOND'S PARALLEL ONE SHOT: A prince's farewell

“Fuck” he grunts, as his hips pound into yours, again and again. Aegon was a greedy man, and you were his favourite thing ever. 

Perhaps it was your gentleness to him that nobody else cared to show to him, or maybe it was your beauty. Not even he could know why you had him wrapped around your finger.

He knew one thing; he loved your cunt. 

As the carriage goes on and on, the King just pounds into your pussy, fucking you hard as your little wanton moans fill the carriage. He is King, and he will do whatever he wants, even if that means fucking his mistress whenever, wherever and however he wants.

Right now, it was you accommodated on the seats of the carriage, trying to hold onto the walls, the pillows, anything, as his cock entered again and again.

“Fuck, Aegon-” your little whine turns him on so badly, he grits his teeth as he practically hisses, feeling your cunt clenching around him so hard, it was driving him insane. 

Aegon was a hungry man, and he loved the pleasures of the flesh. There was probably nothing you haven’t done with him, and it pleased him very much. He loved you for it, and you loved him as well.

“I want to hear you moaning my name while I fuck this sweet dripping cunt” he mutters, picking up the speed as the lewd words fall from his lips naturally.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoing on the carriage, his hips rut more and more animalistic against yours. His hand is curled against your hip, applying the right amount of pleasure to keep you still, fucking you as you take his cock. 

“Aegon… Oh, gods…” Your moans are delight for his ears, as he groans and moans. He has never been one to be silent when fucking; he never held any sound for himself, more so when he knew you like hearing him as he liked hearing you. 

He was obsessed with every part from you. Your body, the curves of your ass, the way they sway invitingly for him, your breasts, your cunt… But, also, your mind. Aegon has never truly loved someone’s mind, and it was an odd yet comforting new feeling. 

“Fuck, you feel divine” Aegon says, biting his lower lip, as he increases his pace as he pounds into you. 

“My King, we have arrived-”

“Not now” He grunts as the servant tries to open the door of the carriage. 

You can hear the little sounds of the carriage moving, creaking at the weight and movements, Aegon’s hand roaming on your flesh as his shaft is deep inside you, and by the way you moan, your mouth wide open as your eyes are closed shut, the little drool falling from your lips… Aegon knows you are about to cum, feeling your tight cunt clenching around him, making him follow your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” your desperate noises are a delight for his ears, only serving to fuel his orgasm. 

“Yes, just like that” he snarls, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he cums as well, groaning in delight as he comes inside you. He holds you still; as his hips slowly try to move deeper and deeper inside you, as his cum fill your womb.

You both were used to trying to make each other presentable, as he tries to comb and flatten your hair aftermath, and you pulled his breeches up for him, making sure his belt is not open and such. It was lovely, you realise, and it was something so familiar for both. 

It is your duty to entertain him as he is being equipped with the armour. The very same that the conqueror used at his time, and you smile fondly at him, trying to let his mind wander and not making him drown himself on wine before riding Sunfyre.

“Come” Aegon says as the Dragon keepers take Sunfyre out, pulling you closer to the dragon, and you chuckle a bit. Sunfyre wasn’t massive as you thought, but he was beautiful. 

The dim lights that entered the pit made his scales shine, as he was quick to come closer to Aegon and try to boop him with his nose and snuggle his head into his chest.

Aegon laughed, as he lets go of your hand to caress Sunfyre a bit more. It’s genuine. He’s happy, meeting his dragon, as Sunfyre plays some playful antics for his rider. You think it’s rather cute.

“He doesn’t bite” Aegon say, extending his hand and you slowly take it. You don’t doubt that he can, but you are sure he won’t.

“I’m pretty sure he can”

“He won’t bite you” He corrects himself as he rolls his eye, but you giggle. 

His scales are unsurprisingly warmer than you thought, as Aegon is still hugging him softly, smiling as he sees you caress his nose softly. Sunfyre seems to like your attention. A beautiful dragon -the most beautiful- was used to attention, you thought, but he craved yours, apart from Aegon’s. You smiled as you look at Aegon so comfortably hugging Sunfyre.

“He reminds me of you” you say softly “Craving my attention” your hand moves away but Sunfyre is quick to follow your touch, asking for more. “A needy thing”

Aegon smirks, looking at Sunfyre begging for more. “Always. When it comes to you. Sunfyre can feel it as well”

It was a soothing fact. Of course, being the King’s favourite had its privileges. Great dresses and position at court, for your kin as well. Your father knew well what he did, sending you to be one of Helaena’s ladies in waiting, as you later realized his motives. Yet still, Queen Helaena was so beloved, adored by everyone that it made you look bad. For stealing her husband from her. You didn’t hate her one bit, how could you? She was beloved to you as well, and she never had problems with you around. She was kind, and as mysterious as she was to everyone. You always felt bad until she reassured you the contrary, that she didn’t mind and she held no other love than sibling love to Aegon.

You smiled at Aegon. 

“Convenient” it were your words that had him smirk faintly, as he didn’t seem quite ready yet. 

You knew him well, to see the expression of his face, all his doubts, fears and expectations. He craves to be good. And to your eyes, he was more than perfect. But to your pity, that view didn’t extend to many people. 

As he gets ready, you take the helmet from the squire’s hands, and follow him from behind as he walks over to Sunfyre, who sings softly in the way that Dragons can. It’s melodic and beautiful, you soon realize. Aegon sings too, when he was drunk, or when he was in a good mood. When he was with you and….

Well, when he was with his kids. Now, you heard him sing with his only kid. You remember it, as Helaena was inconsolable; you played with Jaehaera and helped her to be the innocent little girl she was. Aegon, after finishing the business with both the golden cape and the Rat catchers, came to see her. So unlike him, yet he just sat Jaehaera on his lap and took Balerion on his fingers and played with her, singing some songs as they played without any words. 

You were a stranger to his family. You knew it. Yet you settled in, strangely. A friend to the mother, a weird aunt to the kids and a lover to the father. It isn’t like you don’t enjoy it. 

“You look adorable in that armour, though” you say smiling, taking a step back to watch him. He was extremely cute like that. The conqueror should have been taller, you imagine him as tall as Aegon’s grandsire. And Aegon wasn’t so tall, but you adored that

“I am supposed to be fearsome, not adorable” he says, moving to grab his cup of wine again.

You shrug, taking the cup from his hands and gulping the wine yourself. 

“Well, between you and Sunfyre, you’d make a beautiful pair. Fearsome… can be arranged for other occasion”

Aegon scoffs, taking the helmet with the conqueror’s crown on it, and he hesitates before pulling it on. 

“Wait, don’t be a brute” you say taking it from his hands. You were the only one to talk to the King like that, bossing him around as if nothing and he’ll follow your every whim as Kings follow the Gods.

You make him lean his head a bit as you accommodate his short and platinum hair, helping him to put it on the helmet on his head as you can hear Sunfyre sing on the back, waiting for Aegon. 

“I have a perfect view of your tits right now” he says, you can practically hear the smirk on his face, his head on the perfect angle to see your tits pressed tightly on your dress.

“I believe you do”

Once the helmet was on, you watched him with an endearing smile. It was so unlike him, to wear armour when he wasn’t a skilled fighter as Aemond was. But as the King, he repeated again and again that a Ruler should be fighting by his men's side, not cowering on a castle and waiting for the job to be done. 

“Be careful” you say to him, almost afraid. Aegon knows of the womanly worries, a Helaena had asked him the same: to be safe. 

“I’ll be. Sunfyre is there to protect me.” He says, trying to be nonchalant. 

“I know he’ll protect you, and you’ll protect him” 

Aegon nods, a bit lost in thought. “I want for them to trust me. I will fight by their side, and fight for my claim. I will learn how to be a proper ruler”

You nod, your hand searching the skin that his armour let out. You soothe him, and he allows himself to be vulnerable for you. “You’ll be."

"No one believes I do. My mother, my council, my grandsire... even Aemond..." It seems that the betraying of his brother is what hurts him the most. Even if Aemond was his political headache as of late, he was still his brother.

"You have me by your side. You have Helaena and Jaehaera-”

“Protect them” he interrupts you. “If anything, shall ever- If they come back…”

You understand his worry. Blood and Cheese. Even if both killers were dead, he was talking about the Blacks.

“I’ll do” you promise. “I’ll be with Jaehaera. And I’ll sing her the songs that you sang to her, so she doesn’t feel lonely”

“She has lost her twin. She will be forever lonely” he says, a bit gloomily.

You remain quiet for some moments. Aegon was different since that night, and you saw it on him every day. You held him as he cried, you comforted Helaena and Jaehaera. But Aegon just drank himself numb to forget the pain of his little son murdered.

“She has you” you remind him. “And I swear to you, by the old gods and the new, that I won’t let anything happen to Jaehaera. Anything. I promise”

That seems to calm him. “And I promise to comeback” he says walking closer to Sunfyre’s mount. “Even if it is with a few ugly scratches”

You roll your eyes amused, and look at his face. “You’ll be handsome even with some scratches.” you insist, as if the idea disgusts him, yet he is willing to get some scars to prove himself. “And I’ll take your hand as the Maester cures them. And I’ll kiss the little marks to make sure they heal”

Aegon smiles, looking at you as he leans to kiss your cheek. A tender gesture from him; Aegon wasn’t afraid to show displays of affection, at least not with you. You knew that Helaena wasn’t fond of them, but with you and his kids, he’ll make sure you are pampered in love. 

“Thanks for the words. They are well appreciated, and your love is all I needed. And this proper farewell too.” 

You smile, nodding as he climbs Sunfyre. It is not the first time you have seen the dragon; he once took you on flights, and the other time you had helped him to get Jaehaerys and Jaehaera on the mount, making sure they won’t fall, as they squirmed excitedly. 

“Pray for our win.” He says loudly, looking down at your figure “For the throne shall be ours, and for good” 

thank you for reading!! reblogs, likes and comments are not necessary but well appreciated♡

[rowenablade]

Okay. I’m going to wait to do a second watch before I articulate most of my other feelings here, but I want to address one thing.

I’m seeing a lot of posts like, “I related to Izzy because I am also queer and older/disabled/depressed. By killing him off, the writers are saying that I deserve to die.”

Guys.

I’m not saying your feelings aren’t valid. I totally understand grieving a character that you relate to. But speaking as a writer, I just want to point out that trying to write with the shadow of “what is the absolute worst and most harmful way a reader can interpret this” will smother your ability to create. Twisting yourself in knots, trying to think up the worst-faith takes possible and scotch-guarding all your writing decisions against them is exhausting to the point of making you just not want to write anymore.

And we’ve seen the writers deliberately choose not to do this in Season 1. Remember all those terrible “Izzy is racist” takes that the writers and cast seemed completely blindsided by? That happened because the writers and directors and actors weren’t going over every scene with a fine tooth comb, ferreting out every shot or line of dialogue or micro expression that could possibly be interpreted as racist, and scrubbing it off. Because there comes a point where your story is what it needs to be, and you have to accept that some people will interpret it in ways you didn’t intend them to. And if you can’t accept that, you’ll never find the courage to put your work out there.

The point of diverse casts and writing teams isn’t to achieve a state of, “Nothing bad ever happens to a character from a marginalized demographic ever again.” It’s to achieve a status quo of these types of characters just being people in the world of the story. Not symbols, not representation boxes to tick, not tokens that you can point to so that you can say, “Here, we acknowledged this type of person exists, now where’s our woke points?”

OFMD is full of characters of color, queer characters, older characters, characters of differing body types. And in stories, things happen to characters. Some fall in love. Some make the same mistakes over and over. Some turn into birds. Some die.

Izzy’s character represents a lot of things, but he does not represent every older, disabled fan or fan who has struggled with suicide, any more than Jim represents all genderqueer fans, or Olu represents all black fans. That’s not how the writers were handling him. They were handling him like a character, because that’s what you have to do.

Again, I understand being sad. I am so, so fucking sad. But this idea of, “Any time something bad happens to a character I relate to means that the writer thinks I deserve these bad things to happen to me,” will poison everything you engage with eventually. Because stories are full of things happening to characters, and they won’t all be good things. And the more representation we get, the more often bad things will happen to characters we relate to.

But good things will happen too.

Queer couples get married. Disabled women run off with their favorite husbands. Middle-aged characters change careers. A multiracial polycule finds a home at sea. A fat man covered in tattoos stars in a drag show and all his friends cheer. All these things happened in the same show as Izzy’s death. This is what this world is.

Anyway. I know emotions are running high and I’ll probably get blocked or unfollowed by a few people for this. But I’m just trying to find my peace where I can, and if anyone else finds this useful, cheers.

[kbwrites]

OFFICE ESCAPADES WITH NANAMI

Synopsis: Ever since Nanami hired you you’ve done nothing but stress him out. You’re infuriating… And he just can’t seem to get enough of you.

⚝a/n: I don’t usually write smut so I decided to give it a shot.

⚝tags: Porn with plot, Nsfw, Companyman! Nanami, Semi-Public Sex, Enemies to Lovers

⚝wc: 2.4k

Nanami was a gentleman, arguably the perfect one. He shows up to work on time, early even. His hair was neatly combed, his dress shirt pressed, leather shoes shined. He was the pinnacle of discipline and control.

However, every time he was in your presence. That control would slip, little by little.

He hired you fresh out of college. Top of your class, all of the firms in the area had given their offers; but Nanami snatched you away.

He soon began to think that maybe you were more trouble than you were worth..

You were brilliant, there wasn’t any denying that. You were gorgeous, couldn’t deny that either. But that damn mouth of yours.. was going to be the death of him and you…

You strutted into the older man’s office, ‘he’s told you multiple times to knock first…’ Nanami peels his eyes away from his laptop to look at the woman standing in front of his desk. His eyebrow quirks up as he notices her visibly pissed-off vibe.

“Something wrong?”

You scoff in annoyance “You denied my contract?”

He looks back at his laptop, stealing glances at you.

“Did you even read over it before you sent it to me?”

“Excuse me-”

“The terms in this contract… Do you have any idea what kind of position it’ll put us in?”

“Are you suggesting I don’t know how to do my job?”

Nanami shoots you a sidelong glance, a hint of irritation flashing across his face.

“I’m not suggesting I’m telling you. Maybe I shouldn’t have given you this big a project so soon.”

You huff in annoyance. Your boss knew just what to say to push your buttons. You slam the papers you were holding onto his mahogany desk. Looking down at your senior… he was so.. So.. infuriating. Nanami leans back in his chair, hands folded against his chest as he looks up at you.

“You arrogant-”

“Arrogant?” He laughs, his voice laced with annoyance.

“You come in here with a horrendous contract, even worse attitude, and think you’re in the right?” He rises from his desk, striding over to you. You never noticed how much Nanami towered over you, and now he was inches away from you. He smelled like… Vanilla and cedarwood, his cologne making you dizzy. But no, you needed desperately to try to control yourself. Make it seem like he wasn’t having such an effect on you.

“That contract is getting sent out.” You inch in closer looking up at him, failing at being intimidating.

“No, it's not.” Nanami says firmly, his eyes locked onto yours. An intense, almost magnetic pull between the two of you. He continues to invade your space.

“You’re not sending anything out until I’ve reviewed and approved it. Understand?” He pushes his glasses up his bridge.

Being this close, you can feel his breath on your skin, the heat radiating off his body.

Nanami takes a deep breath stepping back just enough to create some distance, he takes the papers you previously slammed on his desk and shoves them into your hand.

“Come back when you’ve made the changes I highlighted.”

You roll your eyes before bowing, your formal gesture cannot hide how much you want to ring his neck right now-

“Yes. Sir.” You turn on your heels, leaving his office. Slamming the door on your way out.

Nanami lets out a deep, shaky breath.

“Fuck… She’s gonna be the death of me.”

He runs his hand through his golden locks, trying to compose himself. Why did you have to be so irritating? He would love to just put her in her place. Shut that pretty little mouth of hers… Have her on her knees taking his-

Wait.. What?

Nanami shakes his head, trying to reign in his desire. ‘She’s a coworker’ he tells himself. ‘It would be highly unethical’

And yet you plague his mind, every waking moment. How it would feel to have you underneath him, begging for mercy.

His hands move lower, palming his semi-hard erection through his cotton twill dress pants. The otherwise put-together businessman groaned at the friction delivered from his hand… Imagining it was you, splayed out on his mahogany desk..

He unzips his pants, loosening his yellow tie…

Your blouse discarded and pencil skirt… that damn pencil skirt-- He always warned you it was just a little too short.

His length springs free, slit already leaking. He wraps one hand around it, pumping slowly.

“S-shit… (Y/N).” He lets out a shaky breath. He shouldn’t be doing this, it's shameful to even be thinking about you in that way. He’s your boss.

He tightens his grip, hips bucking into his hand. Nanami’s head falls back to his office chair, this is so wrong.. This is so wrong…

“Ff-fuuuck…”

He hisses through clenched teeth, you’re just on the other side of his office door. If you only knew how he really felt about you. That during all your arguments he’d want nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name.

He pumps faster, wanting desperately to release the pent-up frustration. He’s close. His breath quickens, his cum spills out, hot sticky ropes flowing down his hand.

Fuck.

He grabs some tissues cleaning up the evidence of his transgression. Straightening his tie and zipping up his pants, Nanami clears his throat trying to regain some semblance of control. Guilt washes over him.

His work… yes maybe if he focused on that-

But nothing seems to work, he’s bewitched. Intoxicated by you, in all his years working for this company no one had ever challenged him. Questioned his authority, called him a “self-centered bastard” but you… you did all those things. He wanted more, he needed more.

Suddenly the doorknob turns

Nanami sits up in his leather chair, pretending to type away at his computer.

You enter the room, holding another stack of papers. Nanami sighs.

“I’ve told you countless times to knock-”

The stack of papers drops to his desk with a loud

THUMP.

“I revised the contract” You reply placing your hands on the desk, flashing him the fakest smile. He looks up at you, leaning down over the desk his eye flicks down to your slightly exposed cleavage.. A peak of your lace bra showing from under your satin blouse.

Black lace underwear huh?

He clears his throat… Looking back up at you. He pulls the stack of papers towards him, rifling through the pages. Desperately trying to ignore your luring figure looming over him. It’s a marked improvement from the last draft, but where’s the fun in praising you?

“Its… passable” He looks up at you, smirking.

“Bullshit!” You snap, that was it. It was one thing if you made a mistake, but that revision was flawless. Just what exactly was his problem?!

Nanami’s eyebrow quirks up, amused at your outburst. “Did you expect a gold star for doing your job?” He slowly rises from his chair, his hands now also on the desk. Looming over you.

“I don’t need a gold star” You scoff “Especially not from you.”

Every snarky remark, every biting word from your lips ignites something in him. Primitive, possessive, a pull that he can’t seem to escape. He leans in closer, both of your bodies still separated by his desk.

“You clearly need something to adjust that attitude of yours.”

Your heart is running a marathon right now, your arguments were always heated but this… this felt different. You decide to take a chance, your knee comes up to lean on the desk, and your other stiletto-clad leg now dangling off the edge. Your face mere inches from your boss’.

“Oh yeah? And what would that be?” You stare into his honey-colored eyes, filled with fire.

And right there, months of profanity-filled disagreements, heated screaming matches.. It all boiled down to this-

Nanami grabs you by the neck, pulling you into a bruising kiss. His tongue greedily entering your mouth, tasting every corner. He bites at your bottom lip roughly, your eyes flutter shut melting into his firm grasp. Time stops, but starts again when he pulls away, forehead resting against yours. Your mind is an infinite void, millions of thoughts run through it but no words can come out. Did he just? Did you just? Then he speaks.

“You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since you started here.” He manages to get out through labored breaths. His attention moves to your neck, he pulls your head up exposing more of your skin to him, he trails hot open-mouth kisses up and down your throat. Your breath hitches.

“And what about you? You think ahh you’ve been a box of daisies?” He grabs your legs, pulling you to sit on the other side of the desk, the papers and pens once occupying the surface now hit the floor, your legs now on either side of the tall blond. Damn, he's strong-

He lets out a dark chuckle, gripping your hips tight, trimmed nails digging into your skirt.

“You’ve made it almost impossible for me to get any work done.” He continues his attack on your neck, trailing down to your collarbone. He kisses and sucks lightly on the delicate skin.

“You’re always so uptight Kento~ I was wondering if it was because you haven’t gotten laid.” You smirk, proud you were still able to quip back despite the growing heat between your legs.

His lips leave your chest and move to your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Careful sweetheart, unless you want me to find a use for that filthy mouth of yours.”

Nanami licks the shell of your ear, grabbing your wrists and roughly pulling you up off of the desk. Body now flush against his. One large hand grips your hip while the other reaches under your satin blouse, cupping your breast through the lacy material of your bra. His fingers ghost over your hardened bud.

“You’re the only one reduce me to… this, have me fuckk misbehaving at work” Your hips roll into his, feeling his growing arousal.

“Is that what you tell all your girls?”

He growls at this, craning his neck back down to your chest, biting and sucking at your clavicle. Your hands rake through his hair, tugging, manicured nails scratching at his scalp. He lifts his head just enough to say

“There are no ‘other’ girls” Before continuing his assault on your skin. He lifts your blouse over your head, discarding the lace bra. He groans at the new skin exposed to him, capturing your bud in his mouth.

“Oh? Not even that cute receptionist?” You moan as his tongue swirls around your nipple “I’ve seen the way she looks ahhh at you ”

Nanami rolls his eyes at this, he knows exactly who you’re talking about. Sure she was cute, always making sure to tell him “Good Morning” and “Good Night” Begging to hear about his day, boring him with office gossip. Looking up at him with innocent puppy dog eyes…

He never was a dog person…

He releases your bud from his mouth, looking up at you through his hazel half-lidded eyes.

“I don’t need a pushover. I prefer a woman with a little fight in her” He moves to give your other bud the same treatment “Someone.. who’s going to challenge me.” He mumbles in between kisses.

His large hand gropes the other breast as his mouth works, thumb flicking over the sensitive spot. He leans back up, back to towering over you. He takes in the sight before him, you struggle to catch your breath, glossy lips parted, your pupils blown with desire. He wishes he could replay this image in his mind for the rest of eternity.

“Get on your knees.” He says flatly.

Your eyebrow quirks up in challenge. “Excuse me?”

“Told you… I want to find a use for that mouth of yours.” He looks down at you, his eyes dark.

You slowly sink to your knees, not breaking eye contact with him. His breath catches in his throat, he fiddles with his belt buckle. The sound of the zipper filling the otherwise quiet office. The tent in his briefs now on full display in front of you. He looks at you expectantly.

You tug at his waistband his cock springing free from its confines. You see your boss in all his glory, his blushing pink tip, heavy balls and his perfect curve upwards. It was a masterpiece.

You loll your tongue out, swiping at the precum leaking from his mushroom tip. The salty sweet taste making you moan softly. Nanami shudders at the sensation, moving his hands to the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair.

You slowly take his length into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head. Your hand wraps around the base as you incorporate more and more of his swollen cock past your bruised lips.

Nanami subconsciously spreads his legs, hips twitching as you bob your head at a steady rhythm.

Nanami’s grunts and moans mixed with your obscene gags fill the soundscape of the office.

He roughly grips your hair, taking control of your pace. Oh if you only knew how sinful you looked right now.

Your hollowed cheeks, expensive mascara pooling at the corner of your eyes as tears welled up. It’s all too much.. too fucking much.

Fuck.

Nanami feels a familiar pressure building up in his lower abdomen.

“I-if you keep going like that s-shit I’m going to“ He looks down at you, half desire half concern on his face.

You only encourage him by picking up the pace, spit dripping down your chin as you pump his base and suck his length.

The rubber band finally snaps, Nanami bucks his hips into your face, his strong hand pressing your head flush against his pelvis.

You choke as his seed hits the back of your throat, eyes fluttering shut. If you died right now there would be no complaints on your end.

His breath slows, releasing your head. You come up for air, coughing and wiping the excess drool and cum from the corner of your mouth.

His hand reaches to cup your cheek, stroking it gently, a silent thank you in his mind.

He picks you up with a gentleness previously unknown and sets you right onto his desk,

The roles now reversed with Nanami positioning himself between your legs. Kneeling down, ready to worship you.

He hooks a finger around your underwear, pulling it to the side, humming in satisfaction as he takes in the sight of your sopping wet cunt. Your boss tears his eyes away for a second looking up at you and smirking.

“You did such a good job, it’s only fair I reward you.”

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Here, have a casual glimpse into my thought patterns and creative process:

*just scrolling about Tumblr and vibing to "Too Much Wine" by The Fratellis*

Too much wine?

Mihawk?

Mihawk drunk??

Wait wait wait WAIT what are they all like drunk?

GASP s h i n y h e a d c a n o n s

BLANK DOCUMENT HERE I FCKEN COME—

So anyway here's some headcanons about drinking too much (insert adult beverage of choice) with the OPLA boyos.

Implied that Reader is already in a relationship with each character in question.

I shall call it.......

HAMMERED

OPLA!Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy X AFAB!Reader

NSFW Headcanons

Kinda Kinktober I guess? Borderline shitpost, I had way too much fun with this.

♫♬♫ Too Much Wine - The Fratellis ♫♬♫

I'll take the mead from the table

Talk straight while I'm able

Until I'm nothin' less than a crime

Zoro

"Y'know, I actually have four swords, but we're gonna have to go somewhere more private if you wanna see the other one."

Rum, sake, beer, wine, whatever you're down for drinking so is he.

Zoro's got incredibly high endurance and stamina—it's going to take a while for him to show that it's affecting him at all, but once it does, he goes from zero to one hundred faster than you can say "onigiri."

Literally no in between, no tipsy or buzzed. Just sober and then stumbling over his own feet and swearing he absolutely is not drunk the whole time.

All those repressed emotions that he hides behind a mask of dry sarcasm on a day to day basis are coming out in full effect.

That means you're getting one of two Zoros—goofy Zoro or sad Zoro.

Goofy Zoro's going to have his arm around your shoulders, laughing his ass off about that time he caught that idiot Marine brat swinging his sword around bare-ass naked so he chopped off half his hair.

He's likely to get pretty flirty in this state, even downright playful, especially if you initiate it, and it's almost definitely going to end in him dragging you somewhere private to fuck your brains out, because his restraint is totally out the window at this point.

If you end up with sad Zoro, he'll be laying his head in your lap and slurringly asking whether or not you think he's ever really going to be the best swordsman in the world, probably still beating himself up over losing to Mihawk.

Just comb your fingers through his hair and do your best to reassure him that you love him and genuinely believe in him. Whether it works or not, he's going ti end up falling asleep in your lap, so be prepared to be stuck there for a while.

"But like...you really think, like, I can beat that bird-eyed bastard? I mean he fucked me up with a goddamn butterknife."

Sanji

"There we are—a beautiful drink for a beautiful woman."

Turbo Flirt Mode: activated.

Sanji is all for pairing wine with food, but if you're looking to get a little sideways, he's going to want to show off his mixology skills to impress you—and he's going to be making some dangerous concoctions, the kind that taste like there's not a drop of booze in them.

The more lit he gets, the less subtle the flirting. If you thought he was clingy sober, you are in for a surprise, because that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Head on your shoulder, puppy dog eyes, telling you how pretty you are and how much he adores you every thirty seconds, with a big silly grin like you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen.

Brushing his lips along your neck and murmuring all the things he's going to do to you once the two of you are behind closed doors later—and he means every one of them, because you're utterly irresistible to him in this state.

He wants you giggling and blushing just as much as he wants you moaning and trembling under his touch.

Super playful once you are alone, even moreso than usual. He's definitely going to suggest doing body shots, he will beg if he has to, but honestly who in their right mind is going to turn him down?

"You're just...just so—so beautiful—honestly, it should be illegal."

Shanks

"Hold—hold my rum—no, no, just for a moment, I wanna see if I can do a backflip off the railing—"

Spoiler alert: he can't. Now he's lying on the quarterdeck alternating between hysterical laughter and "Oh God that hurt—"

Probably the most fun drunk in the world, but he can be a hazard to his own health as his judgement begins to lapse so someone's going to have to keep an eye on him.

If you're at a tavern or otherwise public location, do not under any circumstances let the man out of your sight for more than two seconds. He turns into a straight-up child, he can and will wander off, and you'll find him a mile away on top of a building, likely half-naked and singing sea shanties at the top of his lungs, with no clue as to how he got up there...or how to get back down.

He's developed quite a high tolerance over the years and tends mostly toward dark rum, though he won't turn down a stein of ale or beer.

Total life of the party energy—telling jokes and stories, he just wants to see everyone laughing and having the absolute best time.

Super, super flirty, he may as well have written the book on pick-up lines; and he doesn't care that you're already together, he's going to drop every single one of them on you just to see how much he can make you giggle or roll your eyes.

He's very likely to pull you onto his lap at some point and make out with you like no one's watching—he already doesn't really care who sees when you're both sober, but he really doesn't care after a little too much rum, so it's probably best to coax him to bed at this point.

He's perfectly happy with cuddling up, laying his head on your chest and draping his arm over you, just humming in contentment and falling asleep together...but if you want more, don't expect to get much sleep, because he wants you lasciviously.

To taste every inch of you, to suffocate between your thighs until you're screaming, to pull you onto his cock and watch you ride him until you're both too breathless and exhausted to do anything but tangle yourselves together in the sheets and drift off to sleep between slow, sensual kisses.

"Oh, princess, just when I catch my breath, you make me lose it all over again."

Mihawk

"If you insist on being such a brat about this, you're going to get what's coming to you."

Mihawk has a strong drive to be in total control of himself and everything happening around him at all times, which means he doesn't tend toward getting drunk.

But...he also has this wee little problem with his ego being larger than the entire volume of every combined ocean in the world. If you imply that you could drink him under the table...he's probably going to sneer and tell you to quit being a brat, but he's also going to be quite driven to prove you wrong.

He does love his wine, but it's generally only a glass or two to wind down and relax—he's definitely got a nice bottle of aged bourbon or eau de vie tucked away somewhere that's going to be coming out, because he's got something to prove now.

Unfortunately for him, due to the fact that he so rarely drinks heavily...he's a bit of a lightweight. Which he won't admit even to himself.

But it barely takes a single lowball of harder liquor to get that pale complexion of his a little flushed.

Perhaps just over three for him to start blinking a bit harder than normal in a futile attempt to get his vision to focus, to start speaking a bit slower to attempt to hide the slight slur in his words as you taunt him about it—which honestly only makes it more pronounced, and more amusing.

You had best enjoy it, because it's probably the only time you're going to hear the words, "Fine, you win," come out of his mouth—as well as perhaps the only time he won't be miffed about conceding. The alcohol in his system has him loosened up just enough that he can't pretend he doesn't find your boldness and sass at least a bit endearing...and even more alluring.

That being said, you're still getting punished for it, teased within an inch of your sanity, and he's going to enjoy every single second of it.

Setting his glass aside, plucking yours from your hand, pinning your hands above your head with a devilish smirk and slowly undressing you, his eyes on yours the entire time.

Trailing his fingertips across your bare skin, drawing closer and closer but never quite giving you want you want, his lips barely brushing against your neck, reminding you in an amused murmur in your ear that he could easily do this all night.

You did have the audacity to challenge him, after all—he has no choice but to remind you who's in charge.

"What is it, my little bird? Did you think you were going to get a consolation prize? You're still going to have to beg."

Buggy

"Bet you two thousand Berries I can shotgun two beers at once, watch this—"

And he basically ends up halfway drowning himself, but hey, you're two thousand Berries richer!

Honestly, there's no party like a Buggy party, because a Buggy party doesn't stop until someone loses a limb—probably him.

No, really. Don't let him use his devil fruit abilities. Keep a bucket of sea water on hand if you have to, because he may literally misplace one of his limbs and you're going to have to go on a Chop Chop Scavenger Hunt to help him find it while you're both completely smashed.

If Buggy's drinking, everybody's drinking, and everybody is getting completely fucked up. This is non-negotiable, he thrives on chaos and that's what he's intent on creating.

Anybody who passes out before him is getting something obscene drawn on their face in permanent ink. He can definitely hold his liquor, so if you can keep up with him then you can expect to be the last two living souls left conscious on the whole ship.

That being said, he doesn't care who's awake—things are going to get kinky, and he's really not bothered about anybody watching. Or joining in, for that matter. This whole operation very well may devolve into a drunken orgy if he has any say in the matter.

Then again, it may also devolve into him flopping dramatically across your lap and divulging absolutely all of his trauma in an emotionally-charged alcohol-induced rant. He won't remember it in the morning, so please do him a favor and don't remind him.

"Hey, uhh...I los—I lost my foot again. .....Sor—*hiccup* sorry."

[bro-atz]

evidential

in which: managing partner attorney song mingi just seems to get hotter with every passing second.

pair: lawyer!mingi/paralegal!afab!reader

word count: 3.8k

content: smut, office sex, unprotected sex (remember to wrap up irl!), (slight) cum-eating, mingi has a huge tattoo and a huge dick—, so much sexual tension fr, hopefully i'm not missing anything, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: inspired by this brain rot of mine. if it weren't for @irlkpop @yunhoszn @sanspuppet @byuntrash101 i wouldn't even have considered writing this, so class say thank you to these four lovelies

network: @cromernet

taglist: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever @sanhwajjong apply for the permanent taglist here!

You were rather proud of yourself. You had every right to be as well because you were the paralegal everyone at your firm went to. You were so highly in demand that the other lawyers fought over you all the damn time.

However, there was only one man who got to get your help in full, and that was the managing partner: Attorney Song Mingi. It didn’t matter if you were helping another lawyer on a case; if Attorney Song needed you, you were there in an instant. To use a juvenile term, he had eternal dibs on you.

And you didn’t mind. You liked worked with the attorney, but the one thing you hated the most when working with him was how late he would work you sometimes. The life of a lawyer wasn’t easy, but you should be allowed to sleep at least whether it’s at home or at least one of the couches in his room, but no. If Song Mingi wanted to get something done, he was going to get it done before letting himself rest, let alone sleep.

The craziest part about working these insane hours was that Attorney Song refused to dress comfortably if he was working. You weren’t talking about changing into jammies or anything like that; he refused to let himself look “improper” and was always keeping every single garment of his three piece suit on his body. He wouldn’t even loosen the tie or anything— he was prim and proper ’til the very end.

That is until one particular day.

It was just you and the managing in the partner that day. Everyone else had gone home, but you two were scouring through mountains of papers and files and everything under the sun trying to find a specific, singular piece of evidence; and, as per usual, Attorney Song refused to let you take any sort of break.

The worst part about day was that the building’s AC was shot to hell. You had no idea how or why it happened, but it just did. You thought that the attorney would just take the damn files and go home— as if he was ever going to do that.

“Y/N, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of you and pointed to a stack on the ground. “Go through all of these.”

“I already did—”

“Do it again. We need to fucking find this piece of evidence.”

Attorney Song rarely swore, so when he did, you felt goosebumps erupt on your skin. With a soft sigh, you did as he said. He watched as you got up from your chair and bent down slowly to get all of the files that you had set on the ground, the stack teetering dangerously as you moved them back to the table. Then, you felt his eyes leave you the second he confirmed you doing the task he assigned you. You went through all the files once again, your fingers combing through each page slowly, being more meticulous than you were during the first pass.

You went through one file and didn’t find it. As you set the file aside, you briefly glanced at the managing partner only to freeze. You had never seen him without his glasses on, and when he took them off in that moment, he whipped them off his face, a heavy, frustrated sigh leaving his lungs.

You always knew that Attorney Song was attractive, but you never really looked at him properly until that day. You wanted to appreciate his hair line, his perfect eyebrows, the lovely beauty mark on his cheek, and his beautifully shaped nose, but you could only focus on his lips. God, his rosy lips, his rosy, plump lips. His lips that only got fuller as he let out yet another sigh.

When he tossed his glasses to the side on the table, you felt saliva pool in your mouth and your pussy quiver. Plus, thanks to the AC being broken as fuck, your body temperature only got hotter and hotter to the point that you wanted to start stripping just to cool off.

Right as Attorney Song was about to look up, you quickly opened the second folder and went through the files in there. You tried to focus, but you were sweating so much that you could feel it roll down your back. So, eyes still on the papers, you unbuttoned one more button on your blouse. You couldn’t go further than that without exposing your bra, so you left it there and started fanning yourself knowing that fanning yourself would only make you hotter, but you seriously had no choice.

Little did you know that Mingi was entranced by you at that moment. He couldn’t help but stare at the new part of your chest that you exposed, blood rushing to his ears and crotch. He watched as a little bead of sweat rolled right down your neck, down your chest, and through your cleavage. He felt like his brain was on fire the longer he stared at you, and his own body started heating up like crazy.

Truth be told, Mingi was dying under all of those layers. He was sweating like anything, and he badly wanted to take off at least his jacket, but he couldn’t, for he had a secret he didn’t want to tell anyone about, and it was a pretty big secret.

There was nothing wrong with his secret, but he had yet to show anyone in the firm, and he wasn’t prepared at all to deal with the questions and the comments and side eyes from people. He wanted to remain as professional as possible, which meant he would rather sweat to death than expose it.

He couldn’t do that for long, though. He felt like he was risking having heat stroke, and there was no way he could afford that right now, not in the middle of an important case. As casually as possible, Mingi shed his jacket and vest and draped both over the chair discreetly, and he prayed that you wouldn’t notice.

Oh, but you did. You were so hyperaware of everything that you looked up slyly and saw him take the jacket off while focusing on the papers in front of him. His shirt— his white button up— was drenched in sweat. The poor guy was probably suffering under his jacket for so long based off of how soaked he was. But forget about how the shirt was clinging to the muscles on his body and displaying his muscles for a second. His shirt was so transparent at that point that it revealed his secret: a chest tattoo that connected to a massive sleeve.

By that point, the damage had been done. You’d seen the tattoo, Mingi knew you saw the tattoo, so there was no point to trying to be inconspicuous about it. Keeping his eyes on the files, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first couple of buttons of his shirt, giving you a slightly better look at the black ink on his fair skin. You could see it a little more, but you for the life of you still could not figure out exactly what it was he had tattooed on him. It was when he rolled up his sleeves did you figure it out: it was a biomechanical tattoo that seemed to rip through his skin and show the mechanics in his body. And then, when he leaned towards you to grab more files from your side, you were able to glance down his chest and see a mechanical heart on his chest.

And that’s when you realized after Mingi took his jacket off, every single one of his actions was done very purposefully; because when he leaned towards you for a stack of files, you got a faint whiff of his ridiculously expensive cologne and you felt his hot breath go past your ear, and he definitely heard your bated one. To make matters worse, he was still acting like the attorney you knew him to be.

“Hey,” he said, his low voice barely snapping you back to reality. “Focus.”

The tension in the room got so thick that it practically made the room even hotter. You were losing your mind, and you desperately needed to do something about it.

“A-Attorney Song, I just need to step out for a second,” you told him while squirming in your chair.

“We’re in the middle of figuring out this fucking case. What do you mean you’re going to step out for a second?” The attorney snapped, his attitude returning to normal.

“B-Bathroom…”

Mingi smirked— God fucking dammit, that made it so much worse— before he responded, “You can pee when we’re done. Sit your ass back down and find me this fucking piece of evidence.”

His authoritative tone made all the cells in your body scream for him. You didn’t need to pee, and he knew it. What you really needed was for him to rail you and fuck you until your brain went numb, but he wouldn’t do any of those things until you fucking found this fucking piece of evidence.

That’s when you saw it— the holy grail. It was almost cliché in a way. The two of you lunged for the piece of paper that would win the case and caught it at the same time. The tips of his long fingers brushed against yours, and the two of you looked from the sheet to each other at the same time. You were frozen, your eyes darting left and right as you observed his face in that close proximity. Mingi, however, still seemed to be in work mode (he most certainly was not at that point). Not moving from his position at all, he plucked the paper from your hand and placed it inside his portfolio folder before grabbing the back of your head and kissing you hungrily.

You were definitely surprised to say the least, but you didn’t want to spend any time pondering how the attorney also got to the same state of mind as you. The point was that you wanted him bad and he wanted you just as badly, and you could tell when his grip on your hair tightened and when he subtly wrapped his fingers around your neck and pressed into the pressure points with just enough strength to make blood rush to your head but allow you to breathe as his kisses got rougher.

Trying to cling to some sense of sanity, you ran your own fingers through his hair and held his hair and forearm tightly. Your exhales in between kiss mingled with his, soft moans and sighs adding to the mix every so often. You felt like you were burning up the longer he made out with you, and the sweat collecting on your body definitely made you aware of that. Sweat dripped down his and your face and mixed with your dribbling saliva, both falling and staining the documents on the table.

“W-Wait, attorney,” you managed to say. “The documents.”

You heard him curse under his breath as he momentarily let go of you to rid every single piece of paper on the table with one fell swoop. Then, he quickly made his way around the table and grabbed your arms roughly to pull you into him, his plush lips barely cushioning the blow of his animalistic kisses.

“Tell me something,” Mingi muttered against your lips, his body pressing into yours, his hands running down your arms and resting on your waist as he kept kissing you. “Do you still wanna go to the bathroom?”

“Depends,” you replied breathlessly, your hands roaming up his chest and grabbing the collar of his shirt. “Are you going to help me take care of it?”

“What, you were going to go to the bathroom to touch yourself?” Mingi chuckled.

“I blame you,” you pushed him away and prodded his chest— the one with the tattoo. Then, you added, “I think you should take full accountability for getting me to this point.”

“I could say the same to you,” Mingi’s voice lowered and nearly growled. He suddenly grabbed your ass and pulled upwards as he said, “You and this damn pencil skirt.”

You bit back a moan when you felt his hands grip your ass harder. You wanted to tease him more, but he interrupted you to continue his previous sentiment.

“And this fucking shirt.”

With one finger, he slid it down the middle of your shirt, ripping the rest of the buttons off. Before he took the shirt off you, he lifted you and sat you down on the table, then his antsy hands working on stripping you down completely.

You didn’t get to ask him what he meant because the second he got you fully naked, he gripped your breast with one hand and gripped your ass with the other. He started sucking hard on your breast as he groped and squeezed your body with insatiability. You let out a sweet moan and clung to the man’s shoulders when you felt him bite down gently on your tit. It was when he brought his hand from your ass to your crotch and rubbed your folds did that last string of sanity of yours snapped.

“Attorney— Ah! Mingi!” you whined as you grabbed his hair and pulled him back to look at you. “I want you in me, please just fuck me already!”

“I want to,” Mingi rasped as he looked at you hungrily. “But I don’t have any condoms.”

“I don’t care— I need you to fuck me,” you whimpered— you were so close to crying because of how sexually frustrated you were.

“As long as you’re clean…” he uttered with a smirk before leaving you with a sloppy kiss.

You helped him out of the rest of his sweaty clothes, your hands unveiling the massive chest tattoo. You trailed your fingers up from his wrist to his shoulder, following the lines of the artwork before arriving at his chest.

“Your tattoos are so sexy, attorney,” you whispered as you outlined the intricate details of the tattoo with your fingernail.

You laid your hand flat over the mechanical heart tattoo and looked into his darkened eyes, the man biting his lower lip to keep himself the slightest bit together, his chest swelling under your palm.

“Y/N,” Mingi said roughly as he took your hand in his. He brought your hand down to his clothed crotch to feel his massive, hardened cock, your eyes widening as you it slowly dawned on you that Mingi may have more than just one big surprise. “I’m warning you. I’m not going to hold back.”

“Don’t.”

Mingi visibly shivered. He quickly rid himself of the rest of his clothes and stood before you in all of his glory, his immense, veiny, raging red cock twitching the closer he got to you. Pinning you down to the table, Mingi  placed one hand alongside your waist, the other stroking his cock and rubbing the tip against your folds. You desperately wanted to tell him to just hurry up, but if he came at you with his full force from the get go, you felt like you would definitely tear into two pieces. So, you let him go at his own pace.

He only pushed the tip in first, and once he had his hands on either side of you, he sank a good majority of his cock into you gingerly before suddenly thrusting the rest of himself into you. Your hands went to his hair and neck, and you dug your nails into him while letting out a wail, his cock somehow getting bigger as it throbbed inside you.

Honestly, you were in a little pain, but that didn’t change the fact that the rest of your body desperately wanted him to move, and you wanted him to move fast. Heck, you wanted him to fuck you to the point that you wouldn’t be able to think straight. And Mingi understood that when you looked at him with teary eyes and parted lips. He grasped your waist and began to fuck you fast and hard, your back pressing so hard into the table that you thought you were going to leave an imprint of your ass on it— in the most literal sense, Mingi fucked you into the table exactly as you expected him to.

The table creaked under you as Mingi lowered himself so that his chest was pressing against yours. He moved his hand from your waist to the back of your head and clenched your hair in his tight grasp, his sloppy kisses and tongue violating your mouth. He moved up slightly, allowing his cock to delve deeper into to, and with a very specific intense rut, he hit your cervix. You clenched immediately, and you broke off the kiss as you let out a loud, crying moan, your arousal spraying out of you and onto the table; and you clenched so hard that Mingi could barely pull out— the feeling of your walls squeezing his penis tightly made him orgasm immediately. He pulled out and came hard all over your chest and stomach, ropes of cum trailing along your body.

You thought that would be it, that he would clean you up and call it a day. But no, he was far from over, especially after seeing his white stickiness dripping down your skin. He quickly shoved his cock back in you, making you choke out a moan. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the table, your own arms and legs wrapping around him as you clung to him in fear of him dropping you to the ground.

He did drop you, but that was only when he walked you into his office and slammed your back into the shelves of document boxes, the fixture wobbling and nearly dropping some of the boxes. He brought one of your legs up and fucking you relentlessly, the shelves squeaking and creaking with every one of his insane thrusts. Little profanities would slip under his breath occasionally when he felt his waist slam into yours at just the right angle. Stars started filling your vision when he grabbed your breast and massaged it, your nipple rubbing in between his squeezed fingers.

“M-Minngh-gi,” you moaned as you felt your climax nearing. “C-Cumm—”

He cut you off by grabbing your cheeks and kissing you passionately. He didn’t have to say it, but you knew what he was telling you. Wait.

Quickly pulling out, Mingi spun you around so that your chest was pressing into the shelves, and he quickly re-entered you, his waist ramming into your ass with so much force that your knees nearly buckled. You wanted to scream and cry, but your mouth was stuffed with his fingers, so the only thing you could do was moan and suck on his fingers to keep your moans to a minimum. And despite him silently wanting you to hold out, you couldn’t last much longer— his hand moved from your waist down to your crotch, and his fingers rubbed your clit at the same pace as his thrusts, your eyes rolling to the back of your head because of the stimulation.

You came fully when Mingi pulled out of you, making you squirt all over the carpeted flooring beneath you. Had your mind not been swirling with hormones and lust, you would’ve been mortified that you soiled the managing partner’s carpet, but instead, you sighed loudly, letting the pleasure wash all over you.

The man didn’t give you a break. He turned you around and carried you once more to his couch. He sat down, making you straddle his waist. Hurriedly, he rubbed his cock against your folds and forcibly sat you on his lap, his cock shooting through you. Your vision went white as you came yet again, the man underneath you chuckling at the sight of you flinging your head back and gripping his shoulders so hard that your nails left imprints in his skin.

You thought he was going to say something dirty, something to make you slightly embarrassed but more horny. Instead, he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you again, his other hand guiding your waist and making you bounce on his dick. He kept pulling you into him to the point where your hands were pinned on either side of him on the cushions of the couch.

His cock was moving through you at an angle that made him rub against your G-spot repeatedly, and it took everything in you to not cum again because, dear God, if you came again, you would just fucking collapse. Luckily, Mingi seemed to notice your struggle, because he flipped you so that you were laying on the couch and he was thrusting into you from above, his sweat dripping down his face and body at a steady pace, his couch completely coated in his and your sweat.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Mingi’s voice rumbled as he looked at you with the devilish look in his eyes. “How are you still so fucking tight? You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Cum inside,” you panted out, another orgasm rapidly approaching you. “Fill me up, Attorney Song.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He rammed his waist into yours and came inside, his cock throbbing and twitching as his seed filled you up. You came again as well, your walls squeezing more cum out of him.

When he pulled out, his cum nearly spilled out of you, but he quickly moved his head down to your crotch and collected whatever wouldn’t stay inside you on his tongue. You watched as he brought himself back up to you, his tongue coated with his and your cum. Before you knew it, he was kissing you, his tongue tangling with yours to give you a taste and transfer his cum into your mouth.

A line of cum and spit connected your tongues when Mingi moved away to see your fucked out face and the mix of cum now in your mouth.

“Swallow,” he demanded in a low voice; you obeyed immediately. “Good girl.”

Dammit. He shouldn’t have said that because now you were turned on all over again. You wiggled below him slightly as you tried to calm yourself down, but the lawyer knew you weren’t done with him yet. He rubbed his hand against your cunt and traced light circles around your clit while you reached for his half-hard cock and rubbed him until he was fully erect again.

“You just can’t get enough, can you?” he whispered teasingly.

“No, sir.”

“You want more, don’t you?”

“I need more.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Video

Meadema x Baby!Reader

Summary: A series of videos

The lighting is a little dark but the camera illuminates Beth and Viv's faces. They're standing in the hallway of their house.

"So," Beth says," We're both back playing from our ACLs. It's been a long road to recovery. Had the chance to score a couple of goals today which is amazing. It's really nice to get my first goals coming back in over a year..." She shares a look with Viv. "And we'd discussed this before either of us did our ACLs."

Viv laughs quietly. She shakes her head as if she's laughing at herself. "It was really bad timing. The paperwork had just gone through and we got her...maybe a week before I did mine?"

"A week, yeah," Beth agrees," But we got through it. We've kept her a massive secret. I didn't think we'd be able to."

Viv disappears off camera for several moments as Beth continues to talk.

"Obviously, everyone important already knows but the public doesn't. So, everyone-"

Viv steps back into frame.

"Meet y/n. We've got a baby Meadema."

The camera adjusts to a lower angle, to the baby asleep in Viv's arms. She leans down to kiss the top of your head, where your wispy baby hair is sticking up.

"Viv loves her."

"I do." She looks down fondly at you and then back at the camera and then you again.

"No complaints," Beth says," Even during midnight feeds and changing nappies."

"No complaints," Viv echoes.

It's like the dam breaks after that segment in the last episode of their documentary. You appear nowhere else in it, completely scrubbed from existence but, as the public combs through each episode again and again and again, they notice little things.

While you're not present, your things are. There's baby bottles in several shots, a box for a crib piled up in the corner, a car seat in the back of the car.

Your toys can be seen scattered around and blurry pictures not perfectly in frame are suspected to be of you.

But, once the episode airs, it's like Beth and Viv are making up for lost time.

You're suddenly everywhere. There's a picture of you when you first came home. There's a picture of you with every member of the Arsenal squad. There's a picture of you taking a bottle and of you banging your toys together with Beth.

But, it's when the games stop for Christmas that the public is treated to even more of you.

You're dressed in a little Arsenal onesie, kicking out your feet happily as a sensory video plays on the big screen. It's mainly there for background noise as Viv reads you one of your picture books.

The camera moves for a second, going blurry before focussing.

"Just a regular day," Beth's voice says from behind the camera," Viv and y/n are reading."

You recognise your name and look up, garbling out a string of almost-words.

"Oh, yeah?" Beth says like she understands what you're saying," That's so interesting."

You grunt, cramming your fist into your mouth before flopping forward to push your head against Viv's collarbone.

"Baby's first Christmas," Beth continues to the camera.

"Second Christmas," Viv corrects.

"First Christmas that she understands what's going on." From behind the camera, no one can see Beth rolling her eyes. "Isn't that right, munchkin? It's a big event!"

You garble out more words before pushing away from Viv. You crawl the length of the sofa, almost toppling over one of the arms had Viv not snagged your onesie and dragged you back to her.

You giggle hysterically at the action and climb away again just to have Viv pull you back every time. You've long since abandoned your book in favour of playing with her.

Several more videos of you are posted in the runup to the new year.

"Viv! Viv!" Beth says, coming into frame suddenly," Look! Look!"

She places you on the floor, where you wobble a bit unsteadily. Previous videos have shown you crawling before and holding yourself up against tables but this is new.

Beth holds your hands as you stand up on your own two feet and take tentative steps towards the camera that Viv's holding. You stumble a little before Beth lets go of you and you walk all by yourself to Viv, bracing yourself against her knees when you arrive.

"She's walking!" Beth cheers," She's walking!"

Hidden by the camera, Viv sounds a little choked up as you beam up at her with a gummy smile.

"You're walking!" Beth says to you," Such a big girl, munchkin! Walking already!"

But your walking soon turns to running seen in one of Viv's last posts of the year.

You're on the beach in a big puffy coat and little welly boots. An Arsenal beanie much too big for you is on your head and Viv's got your hand.

Myle and Rona are both running around Beth's feet and they bark a few times before taking off towards you and Viv.

You giggle as they approach, Myle jumping up a little bit and putting her tiny little paws on your equally tiny little body.

"To mummy!" Viv says," To mummy!"

Myle and Rona both hurry off back to Beth and you follow almost as quickly. You stumble clumsily over your feet a few times but Viv's always there to catch you.

"To Mummy!" She says again.

You arrive at Beth. "Mummy!"

[cxffecoupx]

"i can't sleep."

you look away from your book to find a disheveled jihoon standing at the doorway. his eyes seem blood-shot red; his pajamas are crumpled; his hair points out in every direction, defying even the laws of physics and he holds a pillow in his hands.

you never imagined a day you'd see your roommate like this.

even with the initial shock, you keep the book aside and smile and beckon him over. he wordlessly wobbles over and climbs onto your bed. you pat your lap. he hesitates for a moment before gently laying his head on your lap. you immediately start to play with his hair.

"is there anything bothering you?" you ask him. you know he's a busy man — with his classes and music production, he barely even gets time to eat or sleep or stays home. opportunities like these should be seized, you know?

he still doesn't say anything, resorting to shaking his head into a 'no'. you continue to comb through his hair, removing any tangles you find.

"tell me about your day..." he starts out of nowhere. you hum as you remember all the events of the day.

"it was pretty much like usual, I guess. all the classes and stuff- oh! did you know? seungkwan spilled his americano today," you say in between giggles — the incident was way too comical.

"how?"

"it was soonyoung who spilled it. he was imitating seungkwan to a few of their juniors when kwan showed up behind him with his coffee. one elbow lift and baam, everything went flying. you know what's funny, kwan was wearing a white shirt," you start laughing again, tears threatening to escape. soonyoung's and seungkwan's shenanigans have always been your group's free entertainment. everyday was a new episode.

"don't go asking about this to kwan tho, he'll just end me..."

and that's when you notice a cute jihoon curled up into a ball, quiet snores escaping from him. a little string of drool at the corner of his lips. the sight is so endearing, you try to hold yourself back from capturing it.

but you end up taking it anyway. anything for a little blackmail material.

[strvngeweather]

It's All Greek to Me; a one shot.

🕮 PAIRING: collegetutor!jimin x partygirl!reader 🕮 GENRE: College AU, smut 🕮 WORD COUNT: 4.8k 🕮 WARNINGS: Smut, Smut, Smut 🕮 SUMMARY: After failing your college classes, you need a tutor. But if tutor, why so damn hot? 🕮 AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was originally going to be a full-length fanfic, but I decided to make it a short one. I still may expand on it. Let me know what you guys think. Also, my bestie gave me the idea when she said, "Jimin look like he likes ass." LMAO.

Despite your hatred for hangovers, you always ended up with one.

Today was no exception. As the resident party girl at Loren University, there was no way you would ever miss a weekend rager, but as your alarm clock went off for the fifth time that morning, you began cursing at yourself. Maybe going to a party on a Sunday night wasn’t a good idea.

Scheduling a tutoring session at eight in the morning was an even worse idea.

You had many strong suits, but English wasn’t one of them. It was the one subject you had struggled with since you were in high school. Analyzing the words of dead white men from centuries ago was just about as much fun as watching paint dry. Numbers were much more your thing. They were easy and in the words of Cady Heron, ‘Math was the same in every language.’

But you needed to pass. It’s not as if you were here on your parents’ dime like the other kids. You were a scholarship kid and if your grades slipped, so did you. Out the doors and on your ass. So, when you got your last paper back with a big fat ‘D’ written on it, you knew it was time to take action. And that meant getting a tutor.

You just happened to forget that today, on this bright and early morning, with a pounding headache and dry mouth, you were supposed to be meeting him.

Again, you ask, who the fuck schedules a tutoring session at eight in the morning?

With a groan, you grab your phone, hoping to hit the ‘snooze’ button on your alarm one more time before you really had to get up but when your eyes read the time you realize that it’s damn near eight-thirty. How many times have you hit the snooze button? You wonder but realize you’re only wasting more time. Without a second thought, you hop out of bed and into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and running a comb through your curly hair. Your make-up is smudged, and you still have on the shimmering dress from last night but there’s nothing you can do about it now. You grab a hoodie off your desk chair and hightail it to the school’s library.

.

Inside study room 007, you find a very annoyed, albeit very handsome senior waiting at the table. Laid out in front of him are a stack of books, notebooks, and flash cards. Pens and pencils are lined up neatly in a row. He all but glares at you as enter. Before you can speak, he glances at his watch and then looks back at you. “You’re late.”

“I know,” you say, out of breath. “I got caught up …” you scramble, trying to think of a lie instead of admitting you had spent the night throwing ass to Megan thee Stallion and Cardi B but your folder of excuses in the very back of your brain shows up empty. That might be for the best, you realize as you look over your tutor.

“Partying?” He finishes the sentence for you. His eyes rake over you in judgment. “Maybe that’s why you’re failing English.”

Now wait a damn minute. You scoff, crossing your arms. Your brain is foggy, you desperately need a glass of water – and, not to mention, your skin feels beyond icky. The last thing you can do right now is come up with a proper comeback so the only thing you manage to utter is, “Or maybe English is just hard.”

“You speak it every day, how hard could it be?”

“Whatever,” you say, sitting down across from him.  “Can we just … start?”

Jimin checks his watch again. “We might as well. We’ve got thirty minutes left. Let’s make the most of it.”

“I thought I had you for an hour.”

“Yes, and you were late so that hour has turned into thirty minutes. I’ve got things to do, Ms. L/N. I can’t wait around for you all day,” he replies, picking up a black ballpoint pen. “Let’s get started.”

“I’d much prefer it if you called me, Y/N,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “And you’re Jimin, correct?”

He nods curtly. “Alright, Ms. L/N, your form said you have an upcoming paper that focuses on the themes from Nella Larsen’s Passing. What part of the story are you at?”

You roll your eyes but choose not to correct him about your name and instead just answer his question. “I’m not on any part.”

His eyes brighten. “You mean you’ve already finished? Well, great, let’s jump right into discussion –”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not on any part because I haven’t started the book.”

Jimin looks at you as if you grew another head. “Your essay for the book is due next week. The book is less than two hundred pages. What do you mean you haven’t started yet?”

You shrug. “I figured since it’s such a short book I could probably finish it and write the essay in the same day.”

“And what day were you planning on doing that since our study session is right now?”

That day was last night but as you both knew you had gotten caught up with … other things. “I guess I figured we’d start the book together and I’d just get the essay done next week.”

Jimin sighs. “Ms. L/N, whatever you manage to vomit onto paper will not bring your grade up in the slightest if you follow your method. I guarantee that.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes – again. “That’s what you’re here for. You’re my tutor so tutor me in the right direction.” Jimin studies you for a moment and then he begins carefully putting his things away into his messenger bag.  “Wait. What are you doing?”

“Ms. L/N, you can reach out to me once you’ve read the book but until then, we have nothing to discuss. I only meet with students who are serious about their education,” he places his bag over his shoulder and nods toward you. “Have a good day.”

“Um, hello! You can’t just leave,” you say, getting out of your chair.

“I can and I am,” Jimin replies, and with that, he walks out of the study room. You begin to follow him but decide against it. What good would that do? He was rude and had judged you from the moment you walked in the door. You didn’t need a tutor like that.

You decided you were going to go to the campus café, buy a large coffee, and then go home to take a much-needed shower.

. . . .

“He was a jerk,” you tell your best friend, Winter, taking a long sip of your mango-pineapple smoothie. “He left right in the middle of our session.”

Every Tuesday was the same. A morning class and then a lunch date with your bestie, Winter, at your favorite smoothie place about twenty minutes away from campus.

She shakes her head but not at him. “Y/N, I love you, but you were late. You didn’t read the material, and you had the nerve to have an attitude. I would have walked out on you too.”

Harsh but it was the truth. You weren’t quite ready to admit that you were somewhat at fault too. “Okay, but I’m saying, he didn’t have to be rude about it though.”

“What’d he look like?”

“He would be fine as hell if he wasn’t so rude,” you answer honestly.

She shakes her head, amused. “What did you end up getting on your essay anyway?”

After the last encounter with Jimin, you decided you’d find another tutor, but in the meantime, you were going to stick with your tried and true. You did exactly what you had told Jimin you would do. You read most of the book in one evening and managed to type up a paper in the same night, confident that you had aced it. But when you looked online, checking your grade, you realized Jimin had been right. Regardless, you weren’t going back to him.

You sigh. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Winter replies. “Because if Jimin is right, then I think you should give him a call.”

“Jimin Parker?”

You and Winter look up to see Jennie Kim hovering above you. Her freshly dyed blonde hair cascaded in waves down her slender face. You may have been the resident party girl, but Jen was the resident party queen.

“Hey Jen,” you say, motioning for her to take a seat. “Yeah, Jimin Parker. You know him?”

She sits between you and Winter. “You mean that gorgeous senior? Ugh, I had him as a tutor last semester.”

“How’d he do?” Winter says, giving you a knowing look.

You lean forward. Jennie was known for many things but having good grades was not one of them. In fact, you wondered how she managed to make it this far without being kicked out. But, if Jimin could manage to get her grades up, then he truly was a miracle worker.

“Amazing,” Jen gushes. “I got an A on my last three papers. I wanted him again this semester but apparently, he’s all booked up.”

You groan as Winter gives you another look. You pull your cell phone out of your pocket and dial Jimin. “Hello?” You reply as he answers. “Hi, yeah, Jimin, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if we could set up a session …”

…

For his sake (and mostly yours) you schedule an afternoon session and this time, you show up prepared. When he arrives, he’s shocked to see you already in the study room.

“Good afternoon,” he says, rounding the table to sit across from you. You get a whiff of his cedarwood cologne. “I see you’re on time.”

“I’m early,” you correct him. “You’re on time.”

“That I am,” he says, taking a seat. You watch him closely as he carefully takes out various pens and pencils, notebooks, and flashcards. He really is handsome, you think, even if he is an ass. “I see we’re studying Oedipus Rex by Sophocles?”

You nod your head. “I read it. I don’t understand it.”

“What exactly don’t you understand?”

“Not a single word in that book. They might as well be speaking Greek.”

He sighs. “Well, it is a Greek book.”

“Clearly,” you reply. “So where do we start?”

“I guess at the beginning.”

. . . .

Things were going smoothly. You found yourself actually understanding the material and surprisingly, enjoying it. But you also found yourself getting lost in Jimin at times. The more time you spent with him, the more you developed a crush. Your mind would wander as your eyes looked over him. You wondered how soft his full lips were. You wondered what his eyes looked like in moments of passion. You wondered how good it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms.

Your eyes were on his arms when he called your name. “Huh?”

“I asked did you want to go over the scene between Antigone and Polynices again?”

You shake your head. “No, I think I understand. Antigone wants him to call off the war, but Polynices’ pride won’t let him.”

“Correct,” Jimin replies with a smile.

Fuck, you think. Jimin had a smile that would make anyone melt. “Jimin,” you begin and mentally kick yourself for what you’re about to ask but you’ve started so you might as well finish. You put on your best flirtatious smile. “What do I get if I ace my next paper?”

He seems to know what you’re hinting at. “You get an A and the satisfaction of knowing your hard work paid off.”

Well, if that wasn’t a blaring rejection, you don’t know what is. “Do you have a girlfriend?” You blurt it out before your brain can even process whether the question was appropriate or not.

He blinks, slightly taken aback. “Yes, yes, I do. Why?”

You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as possible even though you feel as if you’ve just gotten stung by a million honeybees. “No reason. You just seem so into your academics; I didn’t think you had time for that kind of stuff.”

“Well, a human being still needs a social life to thrive,” he replies coolly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You nod. “Yes, and his name is Jose Cuervo.”

He laughs. “I’m sure you have a line of men knocking on your door.”

“Nobody I want though,” you say, mostly to yourself.

. . . .

If crushing on him wasn’t enough, now you were dreaming about him. A week of erotic dreams plagued you. They felt so real. You could smell his signature cologne as he pushed in and out of you, your legs on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around your thick thighs. Each dream ended the same though, just as he was about to finish, your alarm would wake you up and you would spend a good five minutes finishing yourself off before getting ready for the day.

Instead of a study room at the library, Jimin asked you to meet him at his apartment for the study session. He mentioned something about time constraints, appointments, and being unable to book a study room but your brain had been stuck on, “Wanna meet me at my apartment? We can have a quick recap sesh before I have to run out?” He could barely finish his question before you agreed to it.

So, sue you for being curious.

It’s not like anything will happen, you thought as you parked, he has a girlfriend.  You arrived twenty minutes early. Your excitement had gotten the best of you and you knew how much Jimin liked it when you were on time. When you knocked on the door, a man almost as handsome as Jimin answered.

“You must be Y/N?” he asked, sticking out his hand. “I’m Taehyung.”

You nodded, the thought of becoming a Wattpad heroine and having two incredibly attractive men fight over you danced around in your head. You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

As he let you in, he explained he had somewhere to be, but that Jimin was in his room and to head right in. You gave the door a light knock but didn’t receive an answer. The door was slightly ajar, giving you the smallest view of a very neat bedroom. You spotted Jimin at his desk, looking at something on his large computer monitor. It looked familiar. Your curiosity ate at you, forcing your hand to ever-so-gently open the door further. This time you could see what Jimin was looking at clearly.

It was you. It was your Instagram feed. He was scrolling through your pictures, pausing at every photo that was a bit risqué.

“Fuck, Y/N …”

That was your name. Leaving his lips. In a moan. Your heart fluttered with excitement. But wait, was he …

As you tilt your head to get a better view, you can see the tip of his elbow on the armrest, bobbing up and down. And up and down. And up and down.

Oh, he definitely was.

You slap a hand over your mouth and tiptoe back to the living room. A few minutes later, you hear a shower turn on and ten minutes after that, you see Jimin emerge in a navy blue V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Hey,” Jimin looks at you with a face full of guilt. You can’t help but smile. “How long have you been waiting?”

“I just got here a few minutes ago,” you lie, looking up from your phone that you were pretending to be engrossed in. “I haven’t been waiting long.”

“Good, good,” he says. “Let’s go to the kitchen. The lighting is better in there.”

. . . .

After three weeks of hard work and several study sessions, you submit your paper with all the confidence of Scott Disick. Winter, the best friend that she is, decided that this was the best time to reward your good behavior with a couple of jello shots at your favorite bar. You gobble up the first two and then decide to sip on a blue Long Island iced tea. That’s when you spot him. Sitting in a corner, next to his roommate and another man with tattoos up and down his arms. Instead of his usual tweed blazer and grey slacks, his outfit looks more modern, more casual. A white graphic tee hugs his toned body, and you can’t help but eye his biceps. His cheeks are slightly red, his eyes are glossy and he’s laughing harder than you’ve ever seen him laugh. He looks delicious but you turn around and decide to order another shot from the bar.

You spot Winter getting her mack on with a fellow classmate, Karina, and it’s then you realize that you’re probably going to be alone for the rest of the night. Just as you begin to grab your wallet to pay your tab, a familiar figure approaches you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he’s wearing a smile you’ve never seen before, and it makes your insides flutter.

“I could say the same thing,” you reply. “I never thought I’d see Jimin Park in a bar.”

“I don’t spend all my time in the library,” Jimin says.

“Could have fooled me,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. “What brings you out among people?”

He orders a whiskey sour before turning to you. “I, Y/N L/N, am finally a single man. My girlfriend of two years has decided that she no longer wants me.”

He’s smiling but you can see sadness behind his glossy eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “Her loss.”

“Oh definitely,” he says with a slight slur. “You want to know the real reason she broke up with me?”

You shrug. “Lay it on me.”

He leans in close, so close his body is pressed up against yours. He angles his lips to your ear and whispers, “I was too much for her.”

“Oh …”

“Yeah,” his words spill out in a rush, his eyes darkening as they take you in. They pause at your mini-skirt before crawling up your body slowly. You suddenly feel exposed, as if he just completely undressed you, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t love it. His voice lowers to a sultry whisper, “You don’t seem like that though.”

“Seem like that?”

“Like I’d be too much for you.”

“In what way?” You ask, genuinely curious.

He leans toward you, his lips brushing past your ear, forcing every hair on the back of your neck to stand up. “Sexual. You look like a good girl who knows how to take a pounding.”

A million thoughts ran through your head as Jimin broke out into a sardonic laugh. You were called back to that time you caught him masturbating to your pictures. You began to wonder if the prim and proper Jimin was just a façade to hide the sexual deviant he really was. His eyes look over you in a way they never have, and you swore they were clouded with lust. He licks his full lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss them, but you don’t. Instead, you take a step back and laugh, motioning to his roommate. Jimin was drunk and even though it looked like he wanted to bend you over the bar and give it to you, you knew better than to take advantage of a drunk man.

….

A week later, when you enter the study room, the moment you and Jimin exchange glances, you feel awkward. He looks embarrassed as he gestures for you to sit down.

“We need to talk,” he says. “I want to apologize about the other night at the bar.”

“It’s okay, I barely even gave it a second thought,” you lie. You had thought about that moment ever since it happened.

“No, it was inappropriate, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“Jimin, you were drunk, it’s fine. Besides, it was nice to see a different side to you,” you reassured him with a smile.

“That’s not a side that I would like to be representative of who I am,” Jimin admits. “I don’t want to be known as the guy who makes people uncomfortable.”

You laugh. “Believe me, I was the farthest thing from uncomfortable.”

He locks eyes with you for a moment before clearing his throat and motioning toward your phone. “Have you checked your grades yet?”

You gasp, suddenly remembering the paper you had submitted a week earlier. You quickly bring up your most recent webpage, searching for the most recent grade listing. As your eyes glance over your paper and the notes, you realize that Jimin lived up to his reputation. You get up, shoving the phone in his face, squealing.

His eyes brighten, and he gets up as well. “You got an A!”

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Jimin, to your surprise, doesn’t push away. Instead, he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. You take the moment to breathe in his intoxicating scent. The both of you remain intertwined far longer than you both know is appropriate but for some reason, neither one of you makes the move to let go.

Finally, Jimin relents first. He stares you in the face and says quietly, “I knew you could do it.”

You let out a small laugh. “I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you, Jimin”

“As a reward, we can end the session ten minutes early today,” Jimin replies and sits back down.

You find yourself shaking your head. “Can I request a different reward?”

Jimin looks up at you and nods. You look around the small study space. The room you chose was in the back, the library was relatively empty today and the small window the room provided was on the door and could easily be covered up the shade provided. You mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to say next. Things could go downhill, fast, depending on his reaction. Still, you steady yourself, look Jimin in the eyes and say, “I want a kiss.”

“What?”

“A kiss,” you repeat confidently. “I want you to kiss me as a reward.”

“I can’t kiss you,” he replies back, taking study materials out of his messenger bag. “That would be highly ina –”

“Jimin, if you don’t want to kiss me, just say so but don’t use the tutor-student relationship as a reason.”

He sighs. “I …” You watch as he struggles to find the right words.

“You were right about me,” you say, giving him a flirtatious smirk. “At the bar. I can take a good pounding.”

His face turns a beet-red, but he quickly recovers. He stands, walking to stand in front of you. “Just one kiss?”

“One kiss,” you repeat.

He leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for only a few seconds before breaking the kiss. “That good?”

You shake your head. “I hardly think that’s worth all the work I put in.”

He smiles, genuinely amused, and says, “Really?”

You nod. “Maybe if it was longer …”

Jimin sighs. “Y/N, if it’s longer, you know what that will lead to …”

“Then let it lead to that,” you challenge, you push. “I don’t know why you have to act so anal-retentive all the time. Not everything has to be perfect. Just k—”

He cuts you off with a deeper kiss. It’s slow and sensual. His hands wrap around your waist, one of them running down the curve of your ass as he palms it slowly, indulging in the fleshy softness. You can feel his dick hardening on your thigh as he slips a tongue into your mouth.

Jimin is using both hands to palm your ass now, his dick grinding into you and a low, deep, moan leaves his mouth forcing an electric sensation to shoot down your spine and vibrate in your core.

“You sure you want this?” he asks through a searing kiss.

“Yes,” you think you say but you’re not sure. Your head is spinning that this is actually happening.

He responds by lifting your pleated skirt and smacking your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room. Fingertips dance between your ass crack, and he uses a knee to part your legs slightly further. You break the kiss, throwing your head back as you feel Jimin’s fingertips slowly rub your pussy from the back. He slips a finger into your underwear, running it up and down your slit.

“How long have you wanted this?” He asks, nipping at your neck. “You’re already so fucking wet.” You try to answer but all that comes out is a moan as he slips another finger inside. “Shh,” he tells you. “You want the whole library to hear you?”

He gives you a bit of a reprieve when his hands slip away. You watch as he pulls out one of the chairs and sits, beckoning for you to stand in front of him. Your skirt is still at your waist, so he pulls your underwear down before pulling you close. You feel his large hands grope your ass again, peppering kisses up and down your hips. Another smack echoes through the room before he uses a hand to caress clit. You move your hips in response, holding on to the table for balance.

He pauses. “Turn around and bend over.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You obey, and not a second later, you feel him placing one of your legs up on the study table. “Arch that back, baby.” Your ass juts out just a little more as you follow his directions. A moment later you feel a cool, wet, sensation going up and down the slit of your core. It’s slow at first, as if he’s taking the time to let the taste of you marinate on his tongue but he quickly picks up his pace. The tip of his tongue flickering over your clit. Meanwhile, you can feel his thumb, massaging your anus.

Jimin was an ass man, and he was making that very clear.

Both hands were gripping your ass now as he guided your pussy over his tongue. You work your hips in tandem, stifling a loud moan as your world begins to go white.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

He moves his tongue from your pussy up to your anus, and you jerk, having never quite felt something like this before. You can hear an amused laugh leave Jimin’s throat as he begins to massage your ass with his tongue. His fingers working your pussy, begging for another orgasm. You oblige, your wetness dripping all over his fingertips.

“Don’t move,” he demands. You can hear his belt unbuckling, followed by the tips of his dick moving up and down your incredibly wet slit. He slides it in with the patience of a saint, excruciatingly slow, forcing whimpers out of you, begging him to go faster. “You sure you want it faster?”

“Please,” you moan.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Jimin,” you manage to utter out.

He gives you your wish and begins to pound you like he said he would. His pace quickens and you can feel every inch of him inside of you. Your pussy wraps around him which causes him to smack your ass, and a deep moan leaves his lips.

You realize he can’t have all the fun though and you begin to throw it back on him, your ass bouncing against him, and he lets you. You can hear your wetness as you begin to drain his dick. You can hear his low grunts of satisfaction as you pick up your pace and when you look back, you can see his dark eyes looking at you in a way you never wanted to stop. “Good fucking girl,” he whispers in a low voice.

You make eye contact which forces him to grip your hips and pound into you harder, faster (stronger).  “One more time baby,” he says to you, maintaining eye contact. “Cum on this dick.” You had already been close, and his words only sent you over the edge further than you had ever gone. You close your eyes, your body shaking in pleasure as you have your third orgasm on his dick.

He follows suit, his cum shooting deep inside of you. You feel his body on top of yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Was that worth all your hard work?’ He asks.

“I think I’ll have to get A’s for the rest of the year,” you reply.

“The rest of your life.”

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Twenty-Five: Joel Miller + Pregnancy

Your belly wasn't huge just yet. Four months along and you were growing more beautiful by the day. Joel was scared at first when you told him that you were pregnant. Then all that feared melted away into happiness. A deep seeded happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. Not to say that you didn't make him happy, Joel just never thought he'd get the chance again.

You'd grown fuller in the days leading up to the fourth month of your pregnacy. Your hips a little bit wider, shirt a little bit tighter that were already opting to borrow Joels much looser shirts.

The thing that Joel loved the most about your pregnancy so far had been the way your breasts had only grown along side your belly.

Joel would lay next to you almost every morning. His head pressed into the soft plush breasts that had become his new pillows over the past few months.

This morning was like no other, Joel's black curls tickling your exposed skin as the morning sun fluttered in through moth eaten curtains. Your arm wrapped around the older man in a gently, and doting way. You didn't dare move as not to stir the man awake.

You just watched as his body moved up and down with every long and deep breathe he took. His head once again rested in the valley of your breasts. You moved your hand slightly in an effort to comb through the black curls that were peppered with grey.

"Good mornin' sweetheart." Joels morning voice is a mix of just the right amount of texas drawl, and rusty morning voice and it makes you heat up instantly. "Mornin' baby." Continuing to stare down at Joel, "You know starin' is rude." You roll your eyes.

Joel moves ever so slightly to get a bit more comfortable. "Look at that belly of yours." Joel loves the way you look, and loves it even more now that you have started wearing his clothes. Right now though is his favorite. Your naked body under a thin layer of sheet. You're beautiful, and everything to him.

You can feel the hard on Joel is sporting as it presses into your thigh. He ruts into your plushy thighs a few times absent mindly. 'So pretty in the mornin' baby. Did you know that?" He asks, you hum closing your eyes. As Joel starts to caress his hands up and down your body. Doing circles on your protruding belly.

"Ya did? I think I'll tell you again just how much I love your body." Joel whispers into your skin. His hands are getting ever so closer to your heat. You can't help but want to lure him in, so you spread your legs open.

"Are you trying to seduce me darlin'?" Joel asks, sounding more awake by the second. "Maybe." You tease, he eyes you for a moment longer before reaching down between your open thighs. Collect two fingers worth of slick. When he brings his hand from between your legs. You watch as he archs a brow, and then sticks his fingers into his mouth.

Moaning around them, "Taste so sweet for me baby." He murmurs. Joels shifts once again. His elbow digging into the bed, giving him a better advantage as he take a nipple into his mouth. He sucks on the bud bringing it to life as then he starts to divide his attention. His mouth plays with your tit, and his hand plays with your clit.

Wet fingers playing and teasing your clit sends shotting nevers up and down your back. Moans hit the twenty plus year old walls in the small apartment. When Joel slips two of his longest fingers into you, your wet walls pull him in. He pulls off of your harden, and redden nipple with a smirk. "So fuckin' tight sweetheart. God I fuckin' love it." His hips rut into yours, as you feel his hard on pulse againt you.

"I can feel you pulsing agasint my fingers, you turned on by just my mouth, and fingers baby?" It's not really a question to be answered, Joel already knows that answer. As he continues to finger you, your head falling back into the pillow. Legs starting to twitch, Joel can see all that you're right on the edge.

Your breathing picks up, your legs start to shake harder then ever before. Your toes curl as your walls tighten around Joels fingers. "There's you go sweetness, cum all over my fingers baby. Do it for me." He doesn't need to coax you but you fall over the edge at his words.

Once again moans boucnes on the wall, and your thigh feels sticky. Joel doesn't take long to get up cleaning up his mess on him, and your thigh before taking care of you. A water for you to sip on. "Damn hot mama." He says as he walks stark naked back into the room. Holding that water in his hands. "You're so beautiful baby." He says as he lays back down in his spot.

Completed on: 08/14/23

Posted on: 10/25/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

The Last Of Us Master list // Kinktober '23

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 23

Part 1  Part 22

Plans are made around Eddie. They talk about traps, and blood, and trips to the army surplus store. But Eddie’s not there: he’s in his trailer, curled up on his single bed with Steve, trading truths like the world is ending. He wants Steve. He wants Uncle Wayne. 

He stands from the table, voices cease around him as all eyes look up. “I’m going to get Wayne.” He looks around the table. Will still looks too trusting, and Jonathan and the red-head look uncaring, but Nancy is biting her lip like she’s got something to say.. “What, Wheeler?” he asks, combative. “What the hell is your problem now?”

Her lips purse, and she crosses her arm atop the table primly. So in control. So dainty and pointed, and clean. Eddie wants to strangle her. “I’m not sure if we should bring any more people into this” 

Eddie has to take a few deep breaths. “As the reigning authority on all things that crawl out of our new hell creature feature, you need me,” he says. “And I’m going to get my Uncle Wayne.”

Nancy’s nose scrunches, mouth snarling even as she keeps her lips shut. The red-head sighs, standing as well. “He’s not going to budge, let’s just go.” 

Eddie wants to leap over this table and kiss her straight on the lips. Jonathan and Will stand as well. Nancy stays seated for a few moments, glaring at her friend before standing with a huff. “We can’t waste this much time,” she says, striding toward the door, expecting everyone to follow. “We should split up.”

“Said every person in a horror movie before they get brutally murdered,” Eddie mutters. The redhead snorts. No one else notices he talked at all.

“I can go to the army surplus,” Jonathan says. 

“I’ll go with you,” Nancy replies.

“Well, you’ll have to drop us off at my house because I don’t have my car.,” the redhead says.

They all pile back into Jonathan’s car, taking their same seats. It’s a matter of minutes before they’re pulling onto a suburban street and stopping in front of a suburban house and with a suburban car parked in the driveway. The redheaded’s house, presumably, by the way she slides out of the car.

Eddie turns to Will before he leaves. “Will?” he asks.

Will looks between him and Jonathan in the driver’s seat, making eye contact with his brother in the rearview mirror. Something must pass between them because Will turns to him and says, “I’m going to stay with them.” 

It comes out like it hurts. Eddie feels it, too – the way there’s a string tying them together, and each step away from one another pulls it taught. The way the one connecting him to Steve lies flat and dead on the pavement. He doesn’t want to let Will Byers out of his sight. “Okay,” he says, dawdling until the redhead honks impatiently. 

He gets out of the backseat of one car and slides into the passenger seat of another. It’s clean and new. Matches the house and the girl and the life, he bets, before monsters crawled into it.

“You live at the trailer park, right?” she asks, turning the key in the ignition and backing out of the driveway.

“Yeah,” he says. 

The car’s quiet. She doesn’t turn on the radio. Neither does Eddie. 

The girl’s voice breaks it like a shot. “Why are you so focused on Steve Harrington?” She says his name like a curse. He wants to blame her, but he remembers that little kerfuffle in the Harrington backyard before all of this had started. 

Responses run through his mind, unsaid. Things like, he saved my life, or, he looked so scared when that thing broke down his bedroom door, or, he told me things in the quiet of my bedroom that I can’t stop hearing, or, I think he’d rather be dead than alone.

He doesn’t say any of that. It’s too much for this nameless girl who wasn’t there with them when it counted. “He’s not what you think,” he says, not looking over at her to see how the words land.

She’s quiet for a minute, Eddie sits in it. She doesn’t respond until they’re pulling into the entrance to the trailer park. “Coming from you, that might actually mean something,” she says, quiet, like it’s a secret. “Now, which one’s yours?”

He directs her, a right and then a left. Wayne’s truck is in the driveway.

She parks parallel to their small plot, pristine and practiced, probably in driver’s ed. Eddie stares up at his own home, heart beating like a demogorgon is waiting for him inside.

“Four days?” Eddie asks.

A sigh. “Yeah.” She doesn’t reach out, doesn’t comfort him. He’s glad. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

Eddie laughs – it’s all air. “This is the longest I’ve stayed away since I ran away at thirteen.” Wayne’s probably sitting in his recliner right now, a game on, and a bear slowly warming in his palm. “He’ll be scared shitless.”

Eddie gets out of the car and approaches the front door, the girl a step behind. He gets the insane urge to knock. Like four days in a hell made this place alien to him. Like this is no longer his home. Ho opens the door.

He forgot what it smelled like; musty, yeah, but like Wayne’s laundry detergent, and coffee brewed too strong. Like home. There’s staticy cheering coming from the small, piece of shit television in the living room. Wayne’s sitting in his chair, looking at him like a ghost had just walked through his front door.

He looks tired, ragged in a way that’s more than a couple doubles at the plant. The chair’s not reclined. There’s no beer. 

“Wayne?” he says.

Like that’s the kick in the ass he needed, Wayne jumps up, striding over to pull him into a tight hug, palm clasped to Eddie’s neck, bringing him down until his forehead is resting on Wayne’s shoulder.

“You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do, boy,” he says, gruff. 

Eddie laughs straight from his lungs. “I missed you,” Eddie says, quiet enough for his ears alone.

The redhead clears her throat from where she’s dawdling at the front door. Wayne pulls away, keeping his hands on his shoulders and holding him at arm’s length like he might disappear if Wayne doesn’t keep two hands on his person. “Who’s your friend, son?” he asks, reprimanding for the lack of manners.

“Oh, uh, Uncle Wayne this is–” he stops talking entirely, looking at the girl with wide eyes as he suddenly realizes he doesn’t know her name.

She rolls her eyes. “Barbara Holland, sir,” she says, reaching out a hand for Wayne to shake. Wayne does, tightening his other hand on Eddie’s shoulder in the process.

Eyes shifting between the two, Wayne asks, “You got something to tell me?”

Apparently that’s all it takes to break him. He’s crying again. Hard and ugly, snot immediately clogging his sinuses. “So, much Uncle Wayne,” he says around his tears. It comes out like he’s choking. “I have so much to tell you.”

“Alright, alright,” Wayne says, gruff, even as he leads Eddie to the couch, welcoming Barbara to make herself at home with a wave of her hand. “How ‘bout you start with taking some breaths, huh?”

It takes time they don’t have to spare for Eddie to regulate his breathing like Wayne taught him, and by the time he’s calmed, he feels like a dishrag, wrung out and used. Barbara’s sitting at the kitchen table, analyzing her nails so critically that he can almost pretend she wasn’t here for his breakdown at all.

“Now, tell me,” Wayne says, like he always does. The same gravity over a scraped knee or a failed test as coming out as queer or moving states to live with Wayne permanently. It’s all important. 

“I went to hell, Wayne,” he says, unable to meet his eyes. Maybe this is the thing that’ll finally stretch his Uncle’s credulity past recognition. “There was this thing, and it dragged me to hell.”

“You Catholic now, boy?” Wayne asks. 

Eddie sputters, indignation and laughter mixing, and when he looks up at Wayne, he looks just the same. Just like his Uncle who would follow him to hell if he asked, who would believe him if he said the detention wasn’t his fault. Every time, no questions. 

“Maybe not hell,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But it was somewhere else, and I left Steve there.”

“We left Steve there,” Barbara said, as if she’d been on the other side at all. 

Wayne looks between the pair, brow furrowed. It’s a small town. This won’t take him long. “...Steve Harrington?” he asks, incredulous.

“He saved my life,” Eddie says, knowing nothing will convince his uncle quicker.

Wayne looks at him the way he always does, intense and searching, but trusting. On his side, no matter what. “You got a plan?”

“Yes,” Eddie says just as Barbara says, “a stupid one.”

“Well, I ‘spose you’ll be needing this old man’s help.” He leans over and pulls his shotgun out from behind his recliner, laying it across his knees. “Let’s go save your guardian angel.”

Part 24

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ Mrs. Norris (nee. Piastri) - LN4

After everything that's happened, Olivia expects life with Lando to be easy. Stress and overthinking get to her, when all Lando wants to do is take the next step.

lando norris x piastri!oc //(marketing ploy continuation one shot)

warnings/notes: overthinking/misunderstandings, Lando being a huge fucking softie, i like this better than the ENTIRE original mp storyline. oops.

Lando’s been weirdly avoidant and Olivia’s not sure why. The seasons not currently going on, winter break giving her and Lando a few weeks to decompress and be together. Except for when Olivia had to stay with Red Bull late most nights, crunching numbers, testing adjustments. She'd asked Oscar multiple times about how Lando felt with her being so late all the time or why Lando was being so secretive, but between doing stuff with Lily and training with McLaren, Oscar had never gotten back to her.

Which, she thought was stupid because Oscar was working with Lando. But she didn't press. She just threw herself into stress over it.

The shared Monaco apartment is breezy, a few of the windows cracked open to let out the nauseating level of cleaning supplies smell emanating from almost every surface. Olivia was a stress cleaner today, usually that role fell to Oscar, and yet here she was scrubbing down the fucking base boards. It had been almost a year into this relationship and if this was the first time he'd stressed her out this much (other than the whole... almost stopping the fake dating thing, which really was her fault) she'd be able to live with Lando forever.

As she stands up from finishing cleaning the last speck of dirt from the last corner of the house, a big breeze rolls through. With it, the scent of the Monaco air swells in and sways the curtains along the room. Olivia sighs and grabs her mess of cleaning supplies and tosses it away in the trash, washing her hands after before retreating to the bathroom for a much needed 'everything shower.'

And when she's clean, the house is clean, and dinner had been cooling on the counter, Lando finally comes home an hour later that expected while still on the phone.

"I understand--" He groans when the person on the phone keeps talking as he takes in the cleanliness of their apartment and his heart strains. Oscar had warned him he had to do it before she got to the point of stress cleaning the entire house and it seems he had been too late to notice.

"I gotta go." He says into the phone and hangs up, kicking his shoes off and shoving his phone in his pocket. Once hanging up his jacket, bag, and shoes in the right spots, he slowly makes his way into the small balcony where his girlfriend sits curled up in the sun. She looks like the epitome of peace with a book on her lap and headphones over her ears. Though, the longer Lando admires her from the doorway, the more stress lines he can see.

"Ollie, baby," He croons, making his way over to where she sits. Olivia perks up and smiles, taking one headphone off as she holds out her arms for a hug. Lando does one better and plops down on the couch next to her and lays in her lap, letting her hands naturally fall to combing through his hair.

"Long day?" She asks and he just nods, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her stomach.

"Sorry for being so... bleh." He says softly, the weight of the apology and Oscar's short scolding the other day boring down on him, "I just have been so exhausted from work.."

"It's alright." Olivia says, a bit too quickly for his liking.

"No," Lando pops up, leaning to press a soft kiss to his girlfriends lips, "it's not alright, I've been avoidant and ignorant and it's not right of me. Oscar's told me off twice for it."

"I told him about it because I was scared you were mad at me." Olivia hums softly, closing her book and setting it aside, Lando shakes his head practically crushing Olivia under his weight as he leans on her to press a kiss to her jaw.

"I could never be mad at you..." Lando sighs, "It's just... McLaren were looking at bringing in a new driver as our third to work with Pato and so I've been so been busy trying to get to know her--but shes gonna go with Ferrari anyways so--"

"Dhanishka, right?" Olivia hums, watching Lando's jaw flex as she cuts him off--and then he sharply nods.

"Charles was asking me about her, apparently she used to be dating Logan." Olivia looks down at her book as she marks it and then sets it on the table next to her, "Oscar knows her pretty well, they raced together for a few years."

"Yeah, but, I..." Lando huffs, sitting up now so he can cup his girlfriends head in his hands as he swallows, "I should've told you but there was just... never a good moment. But I should've made a moment, because I love you and it's stupid for me to neglect you and I'm sorry but--"

Olivia leans forwards, connecting her lips with her boyfriends softly. It's like every thought leaves his head, and he blinks at her as she laughs at his empty eyed look.

"I love you too, Lando. I also should've asked if you were okay instead of just ignoring you." She murmurs against his lips before pressing another soft kiss to his skin. Lando blinks and then gets up, dragging Olivia into the kitchen with him. She laughs softly at his spontaneous movements before he hoists her up to sit on the counter.

"Wait here." He pokes her collarbone and then disappears down the hall before Olivia can ask a question. She shrugs, kicking her feet idly as she hears him rooting through his work bag, eventually she hears a soft 'aha!' and Lando nearly slips in his socks as he runs back into the room fumbling with something in his hands.

"Okay, I had like this whole dinner and beach walk and little romantic thing planned!" Lando starts explaining quickly, waving his hands in exclamation, "but, but, but! I--here!"

And he slides a small princess cut diamond ring on Olivia's finger. She blinks at it, then up at Lando's nervous smile, then back down at the ring and the gasp that leaves her is so sharp she starts to cough.

"Lando Norris!" She shouts once she's recovered from her fit, nearly whacking her boyfriend in the side of the head, "are you--what the fuck?!"

"You are not as calm as your brother is."

"I got all his emotions," she deadpans, then stammers, "now explain?!"

He grins, blinking at her, "I was so worried you'd say no, or I'd say it at the wrong time, and I realized-- there's no time to wait for the right time if its just gonna make you stressed. So. Marry me?"

All Olivia can do is stare at Lando. His big eyes are full of childlike wonder, sparkling like the diamond that weighs down her left ring finger. His smile is infectious, once her shock subsides, and she finds herself laughing.

Because nothing with her and Lando was elegant or planned. It had always been messy, mushed together, rushed like this. And that was what felt right for them.

But she's still so shocked she can't form words, so hopefully a kiss to her boyfriends already parted lips will do. And if his hand firmly creeping up her thigh isn't proof, maybe his soft giggle is as the pull back and smile against each others lips.

"I wish you had a middle name so I could shout at you to properly express my emotions right now." Olivia whispers.

"No shouting," Lando murmurs, pulling her closer to him by her knees so rtheir chests are flush as he plants his hands on the counter besides her, "only kissing."

"Fine, fine." Olivia obliges, letting her hands tangle in his curls, feeling the still drying sweat on his hairline under her palms as he dips his head down to place a firm kiss to her collarbones.

"You know I have to Facetime half the population to show them this, right?" Olivia gasps, breathless, then she feels something sharp and whacks his shoulder, "Lando! Teeth?!"

"Just in case the ring didn't make everyone know you're mine." He smiles with his stupid amount of boyish confidence Olivia fell for last season and she huffs at him, but can't stop the smile on her lips.

"I hope Oscar yells at you for it when I call him." She teases and pushes Lando aside so she can go grab her phone and he whines behind her as he trails like a puppy.

"No..! All he's been doing is yelling at me for being a pussy and not asking you!"

But Olivia's mischievous laugh makes him grin double in size before he reaches out to grab her waist, pulling her back to his chest as he purposefully sloppily kisses at her neck to make her squeak, trying to squirm away.

"You can wait to call him, I wanna be with my pretty wife." He complains, "and if he's gonna yell at me, I'll give him something to yell about."

and after another playful nip, Olivia shouts with a loud giggle escaping her chest, "I have work tomorrow, you fucking vampire!"

And all is warm once again in the Piastri-Norris household, just as it should be. Hodge-poged together.

[laurey257]

Good Omens fanfic recs that ease the pain. (All complete, canon-compliant)

I am an avid reader and I’ve been combing the floods of new (awesome) things hitting Archive and similar to find what best eases the pain of That Episode. Here’s the best canon-compliant and complete ones that give some soothing to the angst of our angel and demon parting:

**This was a hard decision but I am excluding works in progress since they need time to mature—all these are complete /compliant and can be invested in without fear.**

Jesus, Etc.

This one had me howling.  Crowley runs into a frantic Aziraphale with Jesus at a Barbenheimer premiere who he is frantically keeping busy to prevent the Second Coming.  A battle of the wills with pop songs in the Bentley, Taylor Swift, Kenergy, sushi, a nativity play and a magic show are the least of the insanity that comes next.  (Kudos for the awesome cameo from Mrs. Sandwich.)

To the Universe

This one is a 22-chapter, complete, canon-compliant season 3 full arc that can take the edge off for everyone who is internally screaming that we have years to wait to see all this resolve.  Really can’t say enough about this one.  It tied up every loose end.  Certain parts reminded me of Pratchett and the ending had me on the edge of my chair and cheering out loud.  (bonus extra in a hilarious treatment of Jesus in Tadfield that has him turning himself into a teen named Dave.) This could have been season 3 in another timeline.

Separate Ways

A sweet, short little one where Aziraphale has Muriel checking up on a devastated Crowley from the bookshop, and they finally at least talk.  No resolution, but it felt so nice to read. 

The Second Coming

One-shot (but around 7000 words in chapter format) that is canon-compliant.  Aziraphale “awakens” in the elevator (think ox ribs but sexually) and yeets himself back to earth to roger Crowley six ways from Sunday.  Smutty, so don’t read this one aloud to your parents.  (naked apology dance reference in here made my eyes fall out.)

Heaven is not fit to house a love

A sweet little one with a *small* deviation from canon (that seemed ok because they have a good point.) Crowley had never told Aziraphale about the way the angels managed his trial OR about what he saw in the Heavenly files with Muriel.  He jams his way into the elevator (telling the Metatron to get the next one) and tells him.

Not for all my Little Words

An adorable one where Aziraphale, realizing he screwed up, chases Crowley through loudspeakers and other people’s phones through Europe using famous love quotes until he gets his attention (and some forgiveness.)

Everywhere

Oh so lovely! A longer one-shot where Azi realizes that management is not what he cracked it up to be (they tell him nothing.) So he saves Crowley instead from a Heavenly asassination attempt. (Maggie, nina and anathema help!)

A Proper Apology

One where the Angel simply calls over and over until they really talk.  (Or imagine the idiots simply just used the phone.)

Cause you like me too much and I like you

A sweet little one where Aziraphale quietly resigns, has a chat with Gabriel and Beez in the bookshop, and does the apology dance.

A sweet little daydream Azi has in the elevator about apologizing to Crowley in the Ressurectionist pub  before waking up and realizing oh crap he is still in Heaven.

Did I miss any other good ones?  Tell me?

[miks-delusional-blog]

Hair- Mizu x fem! reader

Tags: Fluff, mild angst? (Again idk how to tag guys, somebody who does know please tell me that would be amazing <3), gender reveal (reader discovers Mizu is a woman), mentions injury and violence, maybe a slow burn? (might make into a series)

Notes: in 2nd person (you), 995 words, Mizu x fem! reader

Context: you and Mizu are friends with romantic tension, also it’s a bit awkward between you two after you find out she’s a woman

A/N: Hello there. Fanfiction. Read it. Hope you enjoy. I’m going to get back to doing school work now. Or I’ll procrastinate and make a part 2. 

Also this is inspired by a scene that was cut from the show where Mizu plays with her hair.

Toodles, love Yamz x

Mizu huffed, frustrated as she tried to tie up her hair. It was normally a simple task, however, on this morning it was not. 

In a scuffle with some assassins, Mizu had hurt her arm quite badly. Although it was the day after the battle, the pain still lingered. Pain was not the only thing that lingered, but an awkward air. After yesterday’s battle, you treated Mizu’s injured arm, finding out that Mizu was not the man you thought she was.

She was a woman.

The image of your shocked face when you pulled down her haori lingered in her mind, like a reflection in a window pane. 

The two of you sat on the floor of the inn, with a noticeable gap, getting ready for the day. Her annoyed huff brought you to look up from the mirror you were holding. You turned to her chuckling softly, “You alright over there?”

She shot you a small glare. “I’m fine.” She attempted to tie her hair up again but the strands cascaded out of her grasp. Her arm fell to her side, she sighed a little defeated.

You crawled behind her, propping yourself up on your knees. Taking the hair tie from her hand, you began gathering her hair together.

Mizu hesitated before uttering, “What are you doing?”

“Shaving your hair off.” you casually remarked as you brushed the knots out of her long hair with your fingers.

Mizu jerked her head back to face you, grabbing your wrist.

“I’m joking! I’m tying up your hair, obviously.” you laughed.

Mizu’s lips curled to a frown, her grip loosening. 

“Just let me help you out.” She let you move her head so she faced away from you. You shuffled a little closer to her, her back up against your front as you continued brushing through her hair.

Mizu relaxed a little as your fingers softly graced her. She thought of how gentle you were with her. Something she wasn’t used to. 

Her usual contact with people tended to be violent to say the least.

Mizu thought of a time before she had to shave her hair as a child. How her mother would tug and pull at her hair, telling her to sit still. 

Your touch was nothing like her mothers.

You were careful and soft, touching her as if she was silk.

Mizu closed her eyes with a small sigh of relief as you gathered all her hair into one hand, using your other to smooth out any bumps.

“Sorry I don’t have a comb. I think I lost it in the heat of things yesterday. Hands are nature's comb anyway.” 

Mizu hummed in response, melting under the way your hands moved through her hair.

“All done.” You pick up the mirror, holding it so Mizu could see your handy work.

She opened her eyes, catching yours in the reflection.

“Not bad right?” You smiled at her through the mirror.

Mizu smiled back, “not bad. You didn’t shave it off.” 

“Don’t give me ideas.” You tried to brush her cowlick behind her ear but it failed to stick.

Turning around, she chuckled. The two of you became face to face “for every strand of hair you cut, is a finger lost on your hands.”

You felt the heat of her words touch your face, eyes widening slightly at your closeness . You sit back on your feet, creating a bit more distance between the two of you. “Well I guess my fingers are safe.”

“For now.” Mizu smirked.

You crossed your arms, hiding your hands away from her. You playfully glare at her which she returns before the two of you start laughing. 

After the laughter subsides, Mizu gazes at you with soft eyes. “Thanks…Uh for helping me with my hair.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help.” 

“I won’t be like this for long.” She adjusted the sleeve of her haori. 

“I know. You always spring back quickly. By the end of the day you’ll probably be fighting the whole town with no problem. And even if you’re not, and you still need my help, I’ll do your hair.”

Mizu smiles again, bowing her head slightly. “Thank you.” She paused thoughtfully, her gaze lowering to the floor.

Noticing the slight shift in mood, you offered a kind smile. “Everything okay?”

“It’s nothing.” Her eyes flickered to yours.

“There’s always something.”

“It’s just… I don’t understand.” She looked down at her hands.

“What is it you don’t understand?”

“How can you be so normal? You know my secret. I’ve been deceiving you for so long… How can you act like it’s okay?” Her blue eyes gazed into yours with worry.

“Because it is okay.”

“But I lied to you. I am not a man.” 

You took a breath, one which felt like an eternity to Mizu. “Listen, I understand why hide the truth from everyone. It’s easier to walk as a man in our world than it is to crawl as a woman, and it’s easier to keep a secret if you’re the only one who knows it.”

“Well… Ringo knew.”

“What?!” You exclaimed. Mizu winced slightly.

After a brief pause you continued, “That’s… fine. A-anyway, my point still stands. I’m not angry or upset with you because I get it.”

Mizu stayed quiet, reflecting on your words. After a moment, she speaks. “You are very kind to me… I’m not sure if I am deserving of it.” 

“Well, I give my kindness to whomever I want so whether you think you deserve it is not for you to decide.” You crossed your arms. “I think you are deserving of my kindness and compassion, and you’re not the boss of me so, nyeh.” Your serious facade couldn’t stay up as you began smiling.

Mizu chuckles, putting her hands up in defeat. “OK, OK, I won’t talk more about it.”

“So we’re OK?” You asked carefully but with a smile gracing your lips.

“We’re good.”

“Good.”

[anangelinthepit]

Without you…

Part 2

Warning ⚠️ - None-Enjoy 🩵

************************************************

6 months later

Noah’s POV

“Folio any updates?” I asked taking a drag off my cigarette and a sip of my whiskey.

“Not since last week Noah. She’s still in Los Angeles but trying to locate her exact position is becoming more difficult. She’s constantly on the move.”

I glided my hand through my hair trying to relax. The longer she tried to hide and stay away, the more it pissed me off. What the hell was she thinking? Running off like this knowing good and goddman well that any of my rivals would snatch her up in a fucking second.

“I hate to say it boss but I told you so. She was acting funny for weeks on end. God only knows what she spills if one of the rivals figures out she is in public without her pit bulls.” Jolly said sipping his beer

“Jolly now is not a good fucking time. We need to focus on bringing her back to this house, and you stating the obvious is not helping.”

“How do you figure we do that? She hasn't used any of her credit cards and we have every member combing through the city. Still coming up empty-handed, and having to start at square one again.” Folio said

“Trust me she’ll slip up. Do you know why Y/N is so beautiful? Because God had to make up for how stupid she can be sometimes.” I said smirking

“Little harsh, don't ya think?” Jolly said

I was about to disagree when Folio's computer started to make a repeating Ping noise.

“Hey it may be harsh but it's the fucking truth. My tracker on North 15th Street picked up her last location.”

Jolly got up first and checked out Folio's work to make sure it was accurate. I don't need any false alarms right now and he fucking knows that.

“Uh Boss, you're gonna wanna see this picture.”

I put out my cigarette and ran over to the computer. When I looked at the screen I nearly dropped to my knees. A cold sweat began to drip down the back of my neck while my stomach turned upside down.

“Y/N..”

There in the photo stood my beautiful wife, the sun shining down on her illuminating her features and that smile that would light up my darkest days. I could stare at her all day but my attention was brought to something more important.

Her stomach…

“Oh my god, she's fucking pregnant,” I said backing up. I could feel the anger start to boil the hood that ran through my veins. How could she leave knowing she was in such a fragile condition? What the fuck was she thinking? I couldn't contain the fire inside me any longer. Before I knew it my first in the fuckin wall and the only thing I could see is black.

“Folio. where is she?” I said taking some deep breaths trying to calm myself.

“The last place she was, was some corner store. She can't live far boss, we scope out the area and we’re bound to find where she is staying.”

“Noah, I don't mean to be the voice of reason here but maybe she left because she was pregnant.” Nick chimed in.

“What are you talking about? I would have protected her and the baby, all she had to do was fucking tell me, Nick.”

“I understand that but please try to hear her out before you go smashing more walls. She's probably scared Noah, this life wasn't always easy on her.”

I wanted to scoff at what Nick said but he was right, maybe I never took the actual chance to hear her feelings on certain situations. I was too caught up with the money and glory to understand how selfish I was being.

“You’re right Nick, I'll try to to hear her out. I'm gonna need you there though just in case. Please.”

Nick nodded and asked when we were leaving.

“Tonight, I doubt she's working so she should be home,” I said taking a shot of whiskey.

“Hold the fuck up, if Jolly or I had said that to you, we would have two weaning shots in the back of our heads.” Folio protested

“Agreed,” Jolly said sticking his finger up

“Do I need to bring up what happened down in Texas and why both you and Jolly are now on computer work?” I said raising my eyebrow

“No sir carry on.”

“Agreed”

“Dumbasses.”

Nick and I left, LA was only a few hours so it gave me a lot of time to think about how I was going to approach this situation. Was I gonna scream at her and cuss the fuck out? Or hold her and thank god for once in my life that my wife and now child are safe. I won't know until I'm right in front of her. Even though I'm confused with my feelings right now, I can tell you one thing I know for sure that is….

I will not go home empty-handed

Y/N ‘s POV

“Aye Newbie! Pick up the pace! We got people who want drinks.”

“Ricardo I'm 6 months pregnant cut me some fucking slack would ya ?”

Damn, I hate working at this fuckjng place. The men are disgusting and the drinks are even worse.

“What are ya having?”

“A shot of whiskey and a shot of you to go with it.”

I rolled my eyes and gave the man his whiskey. Even with a baby bump, men still find ways to talk like fucking pigs. I finished up my shift at the bar at around 11:30 P.m. I couldn't wait to get home and hang out with Sapphire, she has become my best friend. If it wasn't for her my ass would have been on the street. Tonight she had something she needed to talk to me about. As I re-read over our text messages I couldn't help but feel this was something serious.

Sapphire

Hey um, what time are you coming home 2night?

Me:

Ricardo is making me stay till 11:30 so a lil l8er than usual. Y is everything ok?

Sapphire

Um ya just please come str8 home after.

Me:

Ok?

I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous about what was going on. We didn't live in the best part of town but not the worst. We knew everyone around us so I was starting to become worried. I was getting ready to get in my car when I froze. Looking down at the door handle to my 1998 Pontiac, I saw someone and tied a red ribbon to my door handle. It was”t just any shade of red but a Ruby red ribbon.

“There's no fucking away.”

I yanked the ribbons off and scoped out the rest of my car. It was close to Valentine's Day so maybe this was one of my regular stupid jokes of trying to be festive.

“Yeah, that's gotta be right.”

I threw the ribbons on the ground and got in my car. I tried calling Sapphire and it went straight to voicemail. Sapphire is so bad with charging her phone that this didn't strike me as odd. I finally made my way back to the apartment, but the entire ride home was so nerve-racking. I could have sworn I was being followed but it was probably just my paranoia. I needed to calm down, all this stress wasn't good for the baby.

“SAPPHIRE IM HOME! Girl, you wouldn't believe the day I had! Everything was normal until I got out of work. Can you believe some weirdo tied a ribbon to my car? I'll tell ya what, I bet you it was Jerry. You know the one with 8 kids and his wife is almost pushing 50. God, it's like he can't take a hint.”

I began to pour myself a glass of water when I realized there was just absolute silent. So quiet, I could hear my heart beating in my ears

“Saph?”

“Just a Ribbion huh? That breaks my heart babydoll, You used to always love small gifts like that.

I dropped my water causing glass to shatter all over the floor. There in the doorway stood Noah, and by the look on his face, he wanted answers and wanted them now.

“Noah?”

“My Ruby”

I stumbled back almost stroking on the broken glass around my feet. I should have fucking known the ribbon on my car wasn't from a strange secret admirer. Just my psychopath, murderous, soon-to-be ex-husband.

“I’ve missed you,” he said walking towards me

“Wh- where is my friend.”

“Oh, Sapphire? Nice girl but I had to have Nick take care of her.”

I was two seconds away from screaming thinking he killed my best friend until I heard giggling and moaning coming from the other room.

“Seriously?”

Noah continued to walk towards me, I couldn't back up anymore because I was already against the sink. I closed my eyes expecting the worst when I felt a hand cradle my stomach. When I opened my eyes, Noah was kneeling and holding me. This was probably the most gentle touch I've ever seen this man do to me or anyone else. Noah has never hit me, let me make that clear. It's just his kisses and affection were as soft as a diamond. Cold kisses and sharp to the touch. As much as I wanted to be in awe of this moment, I couldn’t.

“Noah”

His grip around me became tighter

“Noah please”

Noah stood up after kissing my baby bump. Quicky wiping a tear from his eye he fixed himself and changed back to his intimidating demeanor. Just like the old saying goes “Mafia men don't shed tears”

“You have a got a lot of explaining to do, first things first. Pack your shit and let’s go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Excuse me? You are still my wife and now the mother of my child. What I say fucking goes.”

I watched those beautiful brown autumn-colored eyes of his turn into dark orbs, I was scared but I’m standing my fucking ground

“Not anymore.”

Suddenly Noah threw a punch that landed on the cabinet door just inches away from my face.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I could feel my legs about to give out and cave into him. That is until the flashback happened within a second, and the reason I did this gave me the strength.

“It means my son is not your concern, and neither am I.”

************************************************

Hello angels i hope you all enjoyed 🩵

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