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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 4 months

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Chocolate Princess ♡

Willy Wonka x reader

Description - Y/n Ficklegruber can't help but become enamoured with the spectacularly peculiar man stood in the middle of the galleria.

Word count - 1.6k

warnings - fluff ♡

a/n: Watched Wonka today with my sister and my little cousins and honestly have never smiled so much during a film. Every bit of it was just pure wondourous imagination. And Timothee as Wonka was just too scrumptious! Who couldn't love him!

Masterlist

PART TWO

--♡--

I began everyday as I always did. Being ungraciously tumbled out of my pink satin sheets, poked and prodded by our various servants, squeezed into the most painstakingly prissy pink gingham dress (with a matching bow for extra faff), and hauled into my fathers car to join him on his way to work.

You see, I am the sole child of famed chocolatier Felix Ficklegruber. Since I had completed my mandatory years of studies, my days consisted of lounging about my fathers office in complete boredom. My mind practically weakened with the mundane repetitiveness of it all, and I knew it would surely combust if it was not stimulated soon. For 2 years now, I had been begging my father to allow me to study at the prestigious university at the edge of town. But each plea had been met with a scoff, an eyebrow raise and sharp “no”. Even the library was off limits.

I paced around his office, deliberately scuffing my mary janes against the carpet. I smirked at how each scrape made his face tick as if it was being flicked.

“Would you cease that infernal racket. I am trying to work, precious girl.”

“What work? All you do is sit up here eating your own chocolate.” I slumped down onto the disgustingly green couch.

“Please darling, you are giving me a headache, I must ring for my 8am mocha.” He picked up the telephone, clasping his fingers to his eyes.

I drummed my fingers against my dress and clicked my heels together. “You know,” I trailed off. “I wouldn’t be here to bother you at all if…I was at the library.”

The phone was slammed back onto the receiver which made me flinch. He rose from the desk and stalked his way towards me.

“No daughter of mine will be caught in some stuffy book prison-”

“That’s not entirely correct..”

“--That are refuge for the ugly, the untalented and the p–” He dry heaved. I winced at the possibility of another spew. “The p-” I lunged for a bowl as he spluttered.

“I know what you are going to say so maybe we should avoid any bodily functions.” I picked up his monogrammed hanky and wet it from my glass of water. I dabbed the cool liquid against his mouth. His eyes softened at my action and his hand softly clasped around my wrist.

“Sweetheart, you live in complete luxury. Have treasures other children couldn’t even dream of. Why can’t you just stay.” My gaze fell. His hands held my shoulders to turn me around and led me towards the towering window which overlooked the galleria. “Besides, one day you will inherit my pride and joy, my fortune, the very thing that ignites my soul, my–”

“Who’s that?” I interrupted, and pointed my finger to a beautifully disheveled man who had risen atop his suitcase in order to address the crowd. I quirked a smile and took in the strange man, who was truly more a boy, and his frightfully exciting appearance.

The thickness of the window meant I couldn’t hear what the boy was saying but his movements and expressions delighted me to no end. I giggled as he began to flap, mimicking a butterfly. I gasped as he produced from his shallow hat, a large jar of what appeared to be chocolate eggs. But once he took the top off, I shrieked in delight, as each little egg floated up as if carried by wings.

I felt my father stiffen before he shoved me away from the window.

“Now, now sweetheart. Do not bother looking at this man any longer. Clearly another hopeful vagrant but do not worry.” He lifted my chin with his pinky. “We shall deal with him right now.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who was ‘we’.

--♡--

Once the three had left their respective stores, I snuck out of our own and managed to squeeze my way through the crowd so I was left behind my father and my, and I regret to say it, godfathers.

They each took a bite of the treats offered by the mysterious man who beamed at them with awe filled eyes.

Even from my limited view I could see the flickers of enjoyment cross each of their eyes as they questioned the different ingredients. But my gazing was caught by the top hatted man. His smile grew even brighter as our eyes met. I felt unsure in the presence of a man such as him and all my normal instincts failed. So I settled on a little wave. He offered a small wave back.

“--100%, the absolute WORST!”

The man jumped out of his skin in glee, mishearing Slugworth because of his focus on me.

“Did you hear that ladies and gentlemen, an endorsement by–wait did you say the worst?”

Anger bubbling in my blood, I finally made my presence known.

“You lie, Arthur. I saw your face! You haven’t enjoyed a treat that much since daddy figured out how to make marshmallow flavored chocolate milk.”

There were murmurs amongst the three in agreement and fond memory of that chocolate milk. But they snapped back and I was held firmly by my father who apologized to Slugworth for my rude behavior. A cane was held down on the hand that gripped me. I looked up and met the sweet face of its owner.

“I am terribly sorry.” With a practiced flick I was released. I looped my hand around my saviours available arm. He led me backwards in comical cautiousness. “But I don’t think she’d like to be held for what comes next.”

Suddenly, the three men began to lift into the air.

“The hoverbugs from mumbai! They love chocolate! You must have put their eggs in the treat!” I exclaimed excitedly, whilst watching the hilarious display.

“Exactly.” In my glee, I hadn’t noticed the adoring look which the chocolatier had fixed on the side of my head.

The fun was interrupted by the chief of police. I rolled my eyes. Slugworth must have phoned.

“Now Ms Ficklegruber if you’d kindly step away from the criminal.” The chief of police gestured and I was led away as they interrogated the man whose name I still didn’t know. I looked on sadly as he was forced to give up his earnings. I shoved off the policemen’s arms, I made my way back over to the man whose face was as solemn as how happy it had been just minutes before. The excitement around the galleria had dimmed as various floating consumers were returned to gravity.

“I am really sorry.” I gestured to the measly sovereign he was left with.

“Don’t be. It was a law and I broke it. These fine men were merely doing their job. But a new day shall bring new promise.” He soldiered on with a smile and once again patted his hat back upon his head. “At least I can make rent.” He flicked the sovereign up and caught it once again.

“Where are you staying?”

“Scrubbits.”

My face fell in sympathy. “You didn’t read the fine print?” I pitied the poor man and what was about to befall him. Scrubbits contract was a common warning amongst residents but as I truly took in the whimsical nature which surrounded this man, I knew he wasn't from here. And that made me smile. This place could use something new.

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and lowered his eyeline.

“You can’t read?” I questioned but my tone couldn't help but soften.

“I always thought my mama would teach me, but eventually my pursuits became solely chocolate.” I reached out and grasped his arm. Stroking the velvet beneath my fingertips.

Before I even knew what they were, the words left my mouth. “I could teach you.”

He was surprised. “You would? But why?”

“You’re interesting.” I peered back to the shop which loomed behind me. “I need that.”

“Forgive me, I have not even introduced myself.” He took off his hat and leaned into a deep bow. “My name is Willy Wonka.”

I giggled but responded with a curtsy of my own. “Y/n Ficklegruber.”

At the mention of my last name he looked towards the ceiling where my father still hung, gesturing feebly. “Wow. You really have chocolate in your blood. No wonder you’re so sweet.” Both our eyes widened when we realized what he said. A blush spread across my heated cheeks and meeting Willy’s eyes suddenly became impossible.

“Y/N GET AWAY FROM THAT CANDY GRABBING SCOUNDREL!” My fathers voice beat down from the ceiling where he had been watching my entire interaction with Wonka.

“Meet me at the fountain, tonight, 10pm sharp. Daddy will be in a sugar crash by then. It’ll be easy to sneak out.”

Before I could rush off to avoid my father once his feet returned to earth, Willy halted my movements and placed his empty palm out in front of me.

“Before you go, I want to give you something. You shouldn’t have anything I make in bulk. You deserve something a little more…” He placed a cloth over his palm and ripped it off revealing a deep red chocolate heart decorated with tiny flakes of gold. “Bespoke.”

I placed the treat in my mouth and audibly moaned at the taste. This man was a true genius. My father is going to be so mad. I could jump for joy.

“Till tonight, Mr Wonka.”

“Please, call me Willy.” I leaned up and delicately kissed his cheek in a way of goodbye.

--♡--

That night after discovering the true horror of what being a “guest” of Scrubbits included, Willy begged and pleaded with his newest friend, Noodle, to help him sneak out for the night because, in his words, he’d seen…

“The most beautiful girl to ever exist and if I don’t get to see her again tonight, my heart might just burst out of my chest!”

--♡--

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka x you #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet wonka #wonka #timothee!wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka 2023

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urf1lterr · 1 year

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afterglow | pedro pascal [1/3]

"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"

summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature

word count: 6.8k

status: 1/3 complete

author's note: i actually started this weeks ago but never had the chance to finish. hope you guys like this short one shot even though its gonna be two parts lol. not edited.

"Quick! Spray her hair some more! We need to make sure there's no flyaways," your manager demanded to your assistant, handing over a large can of hairspray.

Objecting, you swat it away making her gasp. "Too much will make me look greasy."

Here you were, all dressed up in your tight corset red dress in the back of some SUV one of your assistant's ordered being a nervous wreck.

If it wasn't for the two shots you had taken before, you were sure you would have fainted right about now. It was your first time attending the notable award show nominated.

And alone.

You did attend the past two years; however, you always had your boyfriend near from a distance as you walked down the red carpet and participated in interviews.

Well, ex boyfriend. But that's irrelevant now.

Of course you knew your team would be three steps behind you majority of the time, but it wasn't going to be the same knowing you had to sit alone for most of the show, especially since you were nominated.

Not that you knew you would win, you were up against women who dominated the screen year after year while you recently got your first big lead after so many years. But it was indeed a huge honor to even come to this point as you knew this might never happen again.

Pulling up to the main entrance, you could hear how loud the fans and paparazzi were through the thick, tinted windows. Your driver quickly jumped out of the car before rounding his way to yours, swiftly opening it, the chilly air instantly making you shiver.

Gulping, you try to hide any signs of fear in your body by smiling widely and immediately directing waves and bows to the crowd as your manager was right behind your ear, constantly informing you on how quicker you needed to be.

You were finally able to get rid of her when another worker offered their hand to you, ushering you to the main carpet for your pictures.

Taking a deep breathe, you are instantly dragged to a spot to start your first poses, doing the same angles- hands on hip and shifting of head- which the paparazzi demanded you do, as you followed down the long path.

Already in the middle of the walkway, you move your arms behind your back as you send a warm smile before hearing another roar from fans. Glancing to your side, you fight the urge to scoff knowing damn well you'd wake up to news outlet making headlines over it.

You just found it incredibly annoying the massive attention being displayed over nothing.

It just so happened that your infuriating ex thought it would be a brilliant idea to make his mark on the carpet right after you. Mentally sighing, you tried finding other things to plant in your head to stop you from cursing him out.

You were not going to let him get to you, especially not on your special night.

Once you came down the end of the road, you were met with your team again before being thrown into a line for interviews.

"If it makes you feel any better," you heard your assistant move up to your ear, whispering as you were neatly fixing the large necklace draped around your neck. "He was totally checking you out."

Backing your head away from hers, you give you a gross look as she shrugged. "Don't make me barf before the show even starts."

One thing about you assistant, she's been with you since the very beginning. From your first agency, she had been assigned to you until she was forced to cease the partnership as you changed companies. So she did that, but with her original company and took the move with you.

She says it's because that's what friends do, you think it's because of the increase in pay.

Since following you around for years, she witnessed all the shy, awkward, romantic, and crying stages of majority of your relationships.

Most certainly remembering the last one real well.

Him being your first love didn't make it any better as it led to you breaking down over the silliest things for months when you should've been moving on.

But every time there was a chance it was understandable to mention his name, your assistant wasted no time trying to make him stuck in your head.

Let's just say she believed what you two had was...special.

Blocking out the rest of her remarks, knowing where she was headed, you get called into an interview. Mentally groaning, it was always the same old questions every year that bore you to death.

How are you? Who are you wearing? Are you in a relationship?

You would always reply truthfully until it came to the last part. Your ex didn't mind publicly announcing it, basically pleading for its unveil anytime you two went out.

You on the other hand disagreed. Being a prominent actor himself, you knew the media would slowly take a toll and make your relationship harder.

This theory often left the two of you fighting constantly for many months, committing cruel and nasty jabs to one another before calling your almost three year-old relationship quits.

That was 10 months ago, tonight being the first time you'd be in the same room since screaming unholy words to each other's faces, throwing fragile objects in all directions before he stormed out of your home, never coming back.

Well, you did change all the locks that same night.

But long story short, only family and friends knew about your relationship from start to finish. Fortunately with that, you didn't have to deal with fans freaking out over the two of you being near one another.

Save that for Austin Butler and Vanessa Hudgens.

Forming a proud smirk, you beam back to the interviewer as she pushed a mic up your mouth. "I'm actually seeing someone."

Gasping, the interviewer looked at the camera in shock, trying to keep her audience engaged, before stepping closer. "Who's the lucky man- or woman?! We don't discriminate." You could hear the fans in the back cheering as more celebrities were passing by. "And just how long have you been keeping your lover locked up?"

'Lover', really?

Faking a grin you knew she thought was believable, you wave your hand in front of her. "He's not ready to be discovered quite yet, he's a little shy-," you wink to the camera as she squeals. "-but 9 months next week."

Ending the conversation with her wishing your nomination and 'relationship' the best of luck, you walked off to find your assistant giving you a disappointed look. "What?"

"Why would you do that?"

Shrugging, you move a strand of hair over your shoulder. "It's not that serious, maybe it'll gain me more publicity."

You didn't care for the attention, you just wanted to find a way to prove that you were moving on in life- for your fans at least. Even if it was a lie and you were still the same person you were 10 months ago.

She just stood there, making her silence loud and clear that she was not by the very least happy. Deep down you knew it was a low move to pull, but it's not like you did it in front of your ex.

Maybe the news will spread tomorrow when you don't have to breathe in the same air as him. Better for you, nonetheless.

"I love your dress," you heard someone praise you as you were in search for your seat. Turning, you were met with your familiar red-head friend. "It really compliments your eye look."

Smiling, you bowed to the famous Jessica Chastain, another actress you met a handful of times.

As the two of you reached out to one another a couple of times, you were indeed introduced by your ex as his close friend was actually a lead in a series with her.

"I could say the same for you, that necklace is breathtaking," you gush as she waves off your warm acclaim.

"I see we're sitting next to each other," she grins ear to ear, gesturing towards the seats nearby. "Good, now I won't have to only talk to my husband during the commercial breaks."

That's how the remaining half an hour went by, catching up on one another's life before the lights slightly dimmed, signaling the start of the award show.

Opening with Jimmy Kimmel's monologue, you quietly giggled from all the jokes he presented, especially the one about Pauly Shore you were sure he would take personally.

Towards the end of his act, you notice the act of violence come up, obviously referring to last year's fallout with Chris Rock and Will Smith, before he started acknowledging popular film heroes across the room.

You slightly jump as his first victim was Michael B. Jordan, exposing you and Jessica in the back trying to jump out of from the camera view but poorly failing, making the people near you laugh.

It wasn't even 30 seconds later before you heard the mention of an all too familiar character being called out, your ex boyfriend in his thick black glasses appearing on the big screen while acting tough to the lens.

Oh, how you used to love those glasses.

But you did notice another person making a small presence in the corner, causing you to pause for a moment. You were sure you'd seen this individual walking pass you down the row to his located seat.

Turning your head to see where this stranger was, your eyes instantly locked with the one person you hoped you wouldn't be near. How had you not have known he was literally sitting behind you- well, three people diagonal from you but same thing.

He was still behind you.

What made things worse was the fact his sister was right by his side, sending you a warm smile as you quickly turned your head forward, not daring to move an inch the entire show it if meant you didn't have to face his gaze again.

Continuing your attention on the stage, you didn't notice the set of eyes burning your side. In fact, that spilt second you did notice him, you didn't take account of the way his expression softened in heartfelt- eventually breaking once the swift turn of your discomfort became apparent.

It seemed you truly were disgusted by him.

But once the act was over, you felt Jessica lean over to you. "Definitely rooting for you," she lightly squealed. "If the nerves get to you, hold my hand."

You send her a questionable look. "For what?"

"Your nomination, silly," she giggled as your eyes widened. That was happening now? The memo you were given weeks ago said opposite. "Best Supporting Actress is up next!"

"But I was told it wouldn't be announced till the second hour."

She sends you a uncertain shrug, not sure what to say. There must have been a last minute change to the line up- which was totally fine, but you were not prepared for your nerves to hit.

Exhaling a shaky breath, you rub your hands together as you see the production team walking near the stage for the upcoming selection. You couldn't at least get a commercial break?

As the lights started dimming and the crowed cheered, you could see the two presenters make their way to the middle of the stage before the clips of films played.

Cringing, you jump and quickly close your eyes as you saw yourself on the gigantic screen. It's very weird watching yourself act out a character, which is why you avoid it at all costs.

Especially the crying scenes- you always thought of Kim Kardashian's crying meme whenever your tears were on the screen.

Your ex would say otherwise, constantly praising you every chance he had when you would appear on a film, claiming you had such a passionate aura when you expressed yourself. Often following with his additional, "it's what made me fall in love with you."

Swaying your neck, you try to clear your mind. Fuck your thoughts for daring to think about him in such a crucial moment.

Wishing for time to fly by quicker, you completely zone out as the wait seemed longer than usual. It also didn't help that the camera was zoomed up to your face trying to capture your reaction to this nerve wracking milestone.

You let out a sigh of relief as another actress, Jamie Lee Curtis, was awarded- thrilled that you didn't have to go up and make a dreadful speech that surely wouldn't be planned.

"Why do you seem thankful?"

Turning to Jessica, you send her a chuckle. "I probably would've fallen down the stairs if I did win," you declare as she rolls her eyes. "Plus, the other nominees had more of a lively feel with their roles than me- they deserved it more."

The rest of the show did seem to fly by smoothly. There was the segment where your ex did have to present an award in which you were forced to pull a contented face in case any random camera caught you.

He seemed nervous, but he did do well considering the room was filled with remarkable individuals- it was very intimidating to say the least.

But you weren't ever going to tell him that.

Standing up and patting your dress down, you quickly excuse yourself in search for your assistant during the intermission. You really needed to touch up your makeup and she was the only who had your powder in her bag.

Walking near the side of the stage, you slip through a door and make it to the backstage area where most celebrities' teams were scattered around, trying to be useful and take hundreds of pictures.

"There you are," you smile as you catch a glimpse of her bright red hair from the corner of your eye near a wall. "I really nee- uhm"

You halt as you were met with the same presence of the man who battered your heart and left it to rot months ago. The one who caused the constant breakdowns in your car after every Starbucks run from the frequent trips you two used to share.

The one who left you stranded for his ex.

"Oh, hey!" your assistant beamed while you just gave her an agitated expression, trying your best to stay calm and collected before you became the opposite. "You're not supposed to be here- the show is still go-"

"I need my powder," you grit your teeth, causing her to suck in her lips by your noticeable anger.

Quickly reaching to her bag and unzipping it, you tried ignoring the amused expression your ex was portraying as he leaned up against the wall in hope you would spare him a glance.

You didn't.

Placing the product in your hand, she shakily reaches out to you. "Here, I can take it once you're done w-"

"I'll hold on to it," you dryly cut her off, swiftly turning your back to them before speed walking towards the door you came in from. All you wanted to do now was sit through the remainder of the awards and sleep on the car ride home.

But of course things never went your way.

Hearing loud footsteps of shoes, you feel a gush of wind hit you as a person barged their way in front of you, causing you to stop your movements. "You didn't have to be so harsh on her, you know?"

Holding back your laughter, you mock him. "Harsh? What's so harsh about doing your job?"

He releases a wary look, knowing you would never act like this unless something was bothering you.

Sadly, he knew he was that something- or somebody.

"I was the one who went up to her," he explains, trying to defend her from your future wrath. "She was only kind enough to stay-."

"I don't care what my workers do when I am not around," you cut him off, glaring at him. "Nor you."

With that, you make your exit before he could further justify himself. In reality, you were upset she was talking to him, but you knew he must've started the conversation and could understand why she stayed.

But what really hurt was the fact you knew deep down she believed you were in the wrong as to why you resented him. Maybe the sight of the two of them triggered your feelings, but for a person who's never sat down and heard both stories she was not one to have any say as to how you should feel.

Sitting down on your seat, Jessica sends you a worried look by how fast you strutted back as if you were running away from something- your past. Returning a reassuring one, you steer clear from the body walking through the aisle as they eyed you down, ultimately brushing your backside as they shuffled to their located seat.

Goosebumps arose all over from the split-second contact. For such short contact, it was sure as hell strong as his warmth hit you.

Straightening your posture, you exhale lowly, trying to compose yourself. You don't want anyone thinking you seemed triggered or anxious because you weren't. And you were going to prove it, making it your best interest to stop thinking about all the unnecessary issues in your life and let loose a bit.

And that's exactly what you did.

"I think I broke my toe," you whine, hopping on your right leg as one hand held onto your left ankle. "How am I going to dance now?"

"That's enough shots for you," you heard Florence exclaim, quickly taking the small cup away from your right hand as you huff, trying to fight back.

It was no use, once determined you knew there was no stopping her from doing her thing.

"Give her a bottle of water and she'll come back to life," you heard Shailene suggest as you tried your best to stay balanced.

After the award show you swear you were going to go straight home until a certain somebody caused you to flip your plans around and party.

That somebody being Andrew Garfield.

"Why end all the fun so early?" you hum, finally feeling your feet numb from the pain and standing better. "The party is just starting!"

Swaying your arms crazily as your hips were rocking in all directions, Shailene's laughter fills your ears as you miss Florence's disturbed stare.

Your dancing was not a pretty sight to see.

"It started almost three hours ago!" Shailene called out over the blaring music that was playing on the dance floor. You were sure it was some EDM song until you took a notice of the familiar lyrics.

Instantly freezing, your friends stop in worry as your body movements halt. Slowly pointing your finger up in the air, you gasp. "Is this Ciara?!"

Feeling a body collide with yours, an arm immediately wrapped around your shoulder. "Oh god! I couldn't find the bathroom, they have like 20 rooms here" Andrew complained, out of breath. "I almost pissed myself!"

Florence walked in front of you two, taking his cup away from him as well. "And no more drinking for you, too. Sir."

Weeping and pulling a despairing pout, his shoulders fall. "Aw c'mon, I wasn't even dri- holy shit, is this Ciara?"

Excitedly jumping up and down, you rapidly nod as he cheers along, both of you fan girling to the iconic song choice. Your other friends just stared, not quite sure what your next actions would be.

Pulling away from you and gently pushing people to the side, Andrew began forming a circle as you giggled in your hand by how energetic he was becoming.

The large opening caught the attention of the other attendees who began walking over to see what all the commotion was.

"You're causing so much-"

"Shush! I'm about to do my 1, 2 step!" Andrew placed a hand to Florence's face, ignoring her parenting skills before swinging his body smoothly to the middle of the circle.

'I shake it like Jello, make the boys say hello 'cause they know I'm rockin' the beat'

Cringing hard, your two sober friends began covering their faces as Andrew allowed the dance floor to acknowledge his presence.

Soon enough, the crowd got bigger as guests began vibing to the rhythm, eventually making the space and air around you hotter.

'I know you heard about a lot of great MC's but they aint got nothing one me'

Constantly tripping over your heels, which you knew would reveal fucked up feet tomorrow, you find Florence and leap to her side, watching as her once stern expression was slowly forming into a grin.

She could never stay annoyed for too long, her lively personality forbid it.

"Because I'm 5 foot 2, I wanna dance with you and I'm sophisticated fun!" you hear someone beside you scream as you followed along, wrapping your loose arms around hers as the two of you begin twirling through the crowd.

Behind your drunken state, you just knew your sober-self tomorrow was going to be praying no one records your embarrassing moves.

The song seems to end faster than what you had anticipated, going from the funky beat to a familiar pop one which made you happier.

Shrieking in joy, Andrew jumped back to Florence and you once realization filled his ears. "I'm about to fucking go insane right now! This son-" stopping, he turned his head to find someone swaying right beside him before leaning towards their ear. "This is your song!"

Bursting out in laughter, you see the devoted artist agree to the obvious note he had made.

"Sorry about him," you intervene, your words coming out in slurs. "He's a dedicated Swiftie...as well as me," you squeak and watch as she waves her hand in appreciation.

God, if only you could see how badly you were humiliating yourself in front of the legendary Taylor Swift.

Not being able to begin your upcoming requests on scoring some of her sold-out concert tickets, you were dragged back onto the dance floor by your very hyper dance partner.

'I knew you were trouble when you walked in, so shame on me now'

Walking closer to get a better look at you two, Shailene's eyes widened as the song continued. "He better not-"

"Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground!" Andrew sung, falling on his knees with his head back. Following after him, you sink to the ground in despair as others continued screaming the lyrics over and over again.

Everybody's a Swifite.

Getting back up by the help of Shailene, you begin to serenade her as Taylor's famous lyrics start catching up. Expressing a face of sorrow and grief, you dramatically chant.

'And the saddest fear...'

But with the crowd of people pushing their way through, your vision ends up falling upon another person- one you were sure you would've avoided if you weren't as plastered as you were now.

'Comes creeping in...'

A sudden harsh push has you involuntarily making your way to your target, you accidentally pushing their shoulders back as they halt their movements, surprised you were even giving them any bit of regard in public until they realized what had happened.

Oh god, how can you be in this situation with a sad Taylor song playing. How ironic.

Noticing the sufferable look of discomfort forming upon your features by his proximity, he tries taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you from the rough crowd but you rejected his hands.

'That you never loved me or her'

Giving him one tough push of his chest, which was incredibly hard by how weak the night has made you, his face filled with hurt at the sight of your developing teary eyes.

You couldn't help it, all the memories of your relationship began flooding your mind. The laughs, the love, the arguments- and in this moment you weren't stable enough to contain your true feelings towards him.

Trying to reach back out for you, your ex steps forward but someone else begins to distract you.

"Or anyone, or anything, YEAHH!" Andrew hollers, viscously shaking your shoulders with his eyes closed before opening them, his beaming grin falling instantly. "Did I make you cry?!"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head and look down as you feel tears slowly begin pouring out. "Hide me before Taylor sees me, I don't want to look ugly in front of her." you joke, trying to stop his flourishing worries but it didn't.

Instead, it made him even more concerned by how unfazed you were after releasing your waterworks out of nowhere.

Nodding, he holds your hand and begins to lead you away from the crowd but another grip was holding you back. Looking at your other hand, you move your gaze to discover your ex was the one who ceased your steps, sending you an alarmed stare in return.

Trying to free yourself, you shake your hand vigorously as he leaned into you. "You can't just breakdown in front of me and expect me to leave you alone!"

Scoffing, you move your face away from his crazed one. "I'm drunk, ignore me."

"A drunk mind speaks the hidden truth."

Pausing your movements, you stare him down as he doesn't back away but only frowns by your rude attitude. He wasn't going to let this nonstop quarrel continue anymore, especially when you obviously weren't fine if you just fell apart over a silly Taylor Swift song.

In his eyes, you clearly weren't fine with him. He wanted to fix that.

Inhaling sharply, you forcefully pull your hand away as he winces by the sudden release. Trying to find a clever comeback in order to take a win on this minor bickering, you allow your drunken-self to take the lead. "I prefer Spider-man, anyway."

What the fuck? You pull a disgusted face, slapping your forehead once your back was facing Pedro to hide your embarrassment. How was that fucking clever? Spider-man- really?

Turning to Andrew, you tug his hand and swiftly make your way through the bodies of the crowd as your two other friends followed behind, definitely witnessing your intense argument with your ex- which you were sure people finally uncovered.

Strolling through the back door, a cold breeze hits your body causing you to shiver and clutch your arms together tighter in hopes of forming some warmth.

"Your car should arrive in a few minutes, Ma'am," you hear the valet attendant claim, awkwardly standing still as your makeup was smudged near the corners of your eyes.

You thank him as your friends quietly gawk you, curious to figure out what was going on but not wanting to trigger you more.

"Will you three stop staring at me like that and ask already?" you groan as they jump in alarm. "I know you're all very confused."

Slowly taking a step forward, Florence placed a soft hand on your arm for comfort. "We don't want to intrude. It's your business."

"I believe I welcomed the party in my business ten minutes ago," you sarcastically smile. "So, it's fine."

Sighing, Shailene was the first to speak up as Andrew gave you a sympathetic face, trying to be respectful. "You and Pedro dated?"

Shrugging, you nipped on your bottom lip to prevent the fear of tears from flowing again. "I guess?" you lightly chuckle, trying to lighten your mood a bit. "3 years must have meant something, right?"

Pulling you in for a hug after capturing your weak voice crack, Andrew cradled you in his arms as Florence and Shailene tried rubbing your back.

Being emotional wasn't really your thing, so being consoled was very strange yet nice.

It made you feel wanted, sadly.

All thoughts through your mind disappeared once a deafening bang was heard from the building, the four of you pulling away from the hug instantly and averting your focus to where the sound directly came from- the back door.

With harsh steps, you make out Pedro's agitated body language as he rapidly shook his head and pointed at you while your friends froze in shock. "I'm sick of you always running away from me every time we talk. Is that fair? I can't have one normal fucking conversation with you because you scatter the second words leave my mouth."

Feeling your hands tighten up, you hug yourself tighter as he takes your silence as complete bullshit.

Now you wanna be quiet?

"Do you know how hard it was trying to find you? Hearing everyone ask if you were okay because you decided to come up to me and run out crying?" he sternly declared, his face now serious as he inched closer to you, your emotionless expression killing him. "As if that was my fault!"

You knew he wanted you to breakdown, to cry in his arms and beg for forgiveness by making you feel as if this was all your fault. It might be- but you weren't going to give him that satisfaction.

His greed to be right was popular during your arguments, but of course he never saw it that way.

Stepping in front of you, Andrew awkwardly tried blocking Pedro from your view to calm him down. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Andrew began speaking. "Look man, maybe now isn't the right time to be discussing this." Giving a slight nod to the street, he continued. "There's paparazzi nearby, we don't want this getting out."

Faking a laugh, Pedro tilted his head before glancing over Andrew's shoulder to meet your eyes. "I'm sure the paparazzi won't be at fault for that one, right y/n?"

God, you hated how petty he would become when provoked. It was one of the rare traits that made him so unattractive and you hated how you shared it.

Maybe you both are just too toxic for each other if you can't be near one another, after months, without fighting- even if you did start it. It was a clear sign after all.

Glaring, you were about to break and fight back until a familiar SUV pulled up. Internally cheering for the literal perfect moment, you slowly ignore his presence and make your way to the car door as he scoffs.

"So you're just going to leave again, like always," he flares, crossing his arms over his chest as you pull the door open. "You can't be serious."

Groaning loudly, you slam the door shut and march over, facing him head on as his strong expression never falters. Instead, he released his arms to his sides and angrily looked down at you. "Can you just leave me the fuck alone?!"

Gasping, Shailene and Florence look at each other in disbelief as Andrew scratched the back of his neck, trying to process where this may be leading to.

Nowhere good, that's for sure.

Before Pedro could speak, you harshly place your hand over his mouth to shut him up. Which he did, but he was certainly not happy by your actions. "Yeah! I'm the one who caused all of this-" you start as you feel your adrenaline going crazy. "-but it's done. Over. Nothing we can do now to change what happened and if you're so worried about it, I'll make a public apology if it means I won't ever have to deal with you again."

Frowning, he snatches your hand away from his face that causes Andrew to wince at the rough contact. "Worried? You think I care about what happened in there?"

You swear you could see sadness fill his eyes as they hid under the blaring anger that was presented. He didn't dare to look at any other direction but your own, scared if he did you would run away again.

But he knew deep down that was coming, soon.

"Why else are you this upset with me-"

"Because you act like we never happened!" he interjects, exclaiming loudly as your mouth shuts. "You-" he begins, running his hand over his hair in frustration, "-you pretend like I don't exist. That we weren't together for all those years and for what? Why do I deserve to be treated like shit in the end? Why am I the only one trying-"

"Trying?!" you shriek, laughing sarcastically as he sighed in response, not taking your tone well. "Really? I don't recall you trying to reach me after you left me-"

"Left you? You changed the locks to the damn house! I couldn't come back in-"

"You still left!" you yell, causing him to flinch by your increase in volume.

Feeling the warmth of someone's hand on your shoulder, you could already tell it was Shailene's by the rings on them. "Maybe we should go. It's getting late and soon people will be coming out..."

Slowly breaking eye-contact with Pedro, you nod and back away. You were done with this conversation and you surely didn't want to even attempt to talk things over when you already knew you both needed help in order to even let things go.

But letting things go didn't mean reconciling.

The sight of you walking away from him terrified him when he knew it may be the last time he was ever going to be face to face with you again for a while. He didn't want to give up, not now when he finally had your attention after months of trying to bump into you.

That's hard when you blocked him on everything and instructed your neighborhood security he was not welcomed to see you weeks after you changed your locks. Of course he could've just waited until you left the gate to trap you, but he wasn't a stalker.

Slamming the door shut after you opened it, Pedro leaned his back against it to halter your movements. Freezing at his quick actions, you try pushing him away but he doesn't budge.

"I know you don't have a boyfriend," he blurts out, breathing heavily as he blocked your hands from grasping the door handle. You immediately pause as he continues to let his thoughts flow freely out of his mouth.

Did he watch that interview? Impossible, he was walking the red carpet. He couldn't have had time to.

"I know you said that to seem happy or I don't know, make me jealous? Fuck, you could've said that to fake it for the cameras but I'm not going to stand here and act like you don't love me."

Choking from his last statement, you immediately try pushing him away from the door to get in, even sending a look over your shoulder, you glare at your friends who sheepishly stand there not helping, too invested to intervene.

Those little nosy bitches.

Finding your wrists, Pedro stops your forceful shoves and lowers your trembling arms. "You still love me."

Not being able to move, you were stuck in his trance. Maybe it was from all the chaos happening and your emotions spiraling out of control, but you felt the sudden urge to give up.

You were tired. Tired of fighting, crying, being mad whenever his name popped up.

You wanted all of this to stop.

Gripping the back of your neck, he leaned in and sent you a hopeless look before pulling your body closer as a way to find comfort and security. "And god, I still fucking love you and you know that."

With that, you were snapped back into reality.

Finding all the power you had left in you, you yanked your body out of his arms and jumped back before he could catch you. Angrily glaring at him, you make sure there's enough distance so he wouldn't latch himself back on you before speaking your mind.

"Don't say that," you spit out, redness filling your face as your fury kept growing. "Don't say 'you know that' when you didn't seem to when you were constantly out with your ex without telling me!"

The dropping jaws behind you went unnoticed as you stared Pedro down, catching the way his face ached with agony the longer you two continued your shared meltdown.

This was getting out of hand and you both knew it.

"Why would I tell you when I knew this is how you'd react?" he snapped back, his hurt now forming into irritation by how ignorant you were being. He knew he did nothing wrong, so why couldn't you believe him? "Nothing happened and you know that."

Pointing a finger at him, you release a snarky smirk as he tried to contain his calm this time. You were getting on his nerves bad. "Hiding secrets with someone you were intimate with for five fucking years is deceiving," you huff, gripping the bottom of your dress. "and you know that."

Before he could fight for his defense, you completely shun him. Speedily avoiding his following presence, you make it to the passenger door of the SUV before he could block in and jump inside.

However, your movements weren't fast enough as he gripped the door hard, not letting you close it. Anxiously sighing, he lowered his head to keep contact with you as you ignored his close proximity, focusing on finding a stern hold on the door so you can shut him out, again.

Leaning in closer, he shakes his head. "We need to talk about t-"

"You didn't want to talk about it last time because you it was your own business remember," you intervened as he closed his eyes in exasperation. "What did you say again? 'This isn't about you. Stay out of it.' I'm out now so you can go."

"I was angry and ups-"

"Andrew!" you call out, causing Pedro to stop talking and confusingly gaze you. "Can you please help? I really want to leave."

Pedro let out a loud scoff, returning his past hurt look as you simply waited for your friend to rescue you. Within seconds, Andrew came by your side and sent Pedro a look of sorrow, not really sure how to make him feel better by his wanted removal.

He didn't need to do much as Pedro backed away himself, shaking his head and sent you one last glance of betrayal. "I'm fucking done," he declared, walking backwards and you prayed your sudden feeling of panic wasn't on full display.

"I'm not going to waste my time anymore when its no use." With that, he made his way back to the building, muttering a swift "have a great life" before aggressively pulling the door open and disappearing inside.

Ignoring the presence of people around, you stared at the windshield in front of you as Andrew stayed by your car door, not wanting to close it just yet.

You didn't want to admit it, but you felt your chest tighten as you began to feel uneasy. Was this it? Did you finally get what you wanted?

Or what you thought you wanted?

Of course you wanted this, now you could move on.

You had even forgotten about Florence and Shailene until the sounds of the back door opening flooded through your ears as they hopped in and made a seat for themselves.

As an intense wave of guilt took over, you immediately turned your back to face them for your explanation until Florence waved her hands to make you stop. "You don't need to explain anything right now, all I want is for you to relax."

Sighing, you slowly nod and turn back towards the front to see Andrew give you a small, condoling smile before gently closing your door, trying not to smash your feet or dress in the process.

Awkwardly gazing to the driver who was cautiously scanning over you making sure you weren't going to puke or breakdown, you send him a sad grin. "I'm sorry...for causing a scene."

He chuckles, shaking his head as you felt your cheeks burn from how embarrassed you were. You must've looked so childish fighting with a grown man over your secret relationship. "Don't worry, as long as I get a big tip you can do whatever you want."

Frowning at his response, your eyes widen as he laughs louder, his body shaking from how funny he thought this miserable situation was. "I'm only joking, I would never let a woman tip after dealing with an unfaithful ex."

Sitting up straighter, you send him a surprised look. "So you think he was cheating, too? Right? I'm not cr-"

"Okay! Let's not continue this conversation anymore," Shailene cuts you off and nods to the driver. "Please drive us to her house."

Your driver sends you a promising wink before starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot to hit the busy streets of the city. You wish you could remember the rest of the car ride, but sleep took over after the car passed the third traffic light.

But as you finally got to forget about the recent incident, little did you know it would haunt you the moment you woke up.

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izgnanik-a · 1 year

Text

CoD ABC’s

NSFW 18+ x Reader Edition - Minors DNI!

Masterlist here

Overstimulation (Werewolf!Simon Riley x Reader)

Tags: breeding, unprotected p-in-v, barebacking, creampie, knotting, consented sex, headspace, forced orgasm, possessive Ghost

Not beta read, we die like men 🤷🏽

Prompt: Simon doesn’t like to be around people when he’s in his rut because he can become easily aggressive. But this time it’s really bad - and there’s no one to help him but you. Of course, you’re willing to help, but you didn’t know it would come with a price.

The slick sounds of Simon’s wet cock slipping into your full pussy reverberated off the walls. You don’t know how long you’d been splayed out under him, your back arched low, a pillow under your chest, and pussy just devouring the werewolf’s thick cock.

You were rendered to helpless whimpering, holding tight to the sheets under you as he pile-drived you with no relent.

The werewolf snarled, his sharp nails digging into the mattress around you, and his blistering hips stilled as he moaned, trembling against your pussy as his cock milked through another orgasm.

Already filled to the brim, you could feel the cum oozing out of your abused pussy, and onto the sheets once more.

The never ceasing knot popped again, for the nth time that night. The barbed edges catching against your walls, and you gave a silent sob as he stopped moving.

You gasped, “Simon.”

His forearms pressed into the mattress as he brought himself down, his gasping breaths brushed over your sweaty spine. He kept himself still as his knot plugged his seed inside of you.

“No more.” You looked over your shoulder with teary eyes. “It’s too much, I-“

“I told you what you were getting into.” He stated. “You said you could handle it.”

You pressed your forehead into the pillow. “Please.” You begged, “It’s too much.” Your mind felt hazy; orgasm after orgasm pulled from your body until you were trembling with dry shudders. Simon’s fingers were stained with the juices from your pussy. Simon could just smell it still.

“I know what you need.” He mumbled against your spine before wrapping his arms around your stomach, pushing down on the knot inside of you.

You arched back with a cry, and clenched down involuntarily.

Simon growled as he pulled you onto himself, lying on his back, his knot still wedged inside. His hand wrapped around your chest, the other navigating down towards your spread legs. “Cum for me, one more time.”

You arched against him. Crying out and trying to escape his sultry fingers against your puffy, hooded clit. You sobbed, pleasure racing through your body defiantly again.

With every movement against him, Simon’s cock itched against your walls, his cum seeping along the edges and onto his base underneath. He held firm to your waist, stroking and pinching your clit. “Just one more. God. You’re clenching around me-so tight-“ he growled, pushing his hips flush to your ass. “I’m going to breed you so well. No one will ever touch you but me.”

You clenched onto his intruding hand, arching your back as he stroked his index and middle finger firmly against your clit. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, colors bursting behind, you whimpered as his free hand drew circles across your pebbling nipples. With every stroke, you whined in unison as your breath grew heavier.

“I’m going to fuck you until you’re full to the brim. And then,” his hand held firm to the bottom of your jaw to keep your head back over his shoulder, “I’ll fuck it deep inside, to make sure you’re mine.” He suckled along your throat, his teeth grazing dangerously.

His swollen cock thrust deeper inside, and it was enough to send you spiraling with a broken “YES.”

When the white cleared from your vision, Simon’s cum soaked fingers were drawing lines up and down between your breasts and to your belly button. His mouth pressed to your ear whispering sweet praises; “You’re so beautiful. So perfect for me. You do so well. I can’t wait until you’re mine. You’ll never know pain again. God. You’re so sweet to me. You’ll look so full, pregnant with my child. I can’t wait.”

4/8/23

#simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon riley #cod mw x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #Izgnanik-a #simon ghost riley #werewolf Simon Riley #supernatural cod

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parrythisucasual · 6 months

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Jax x Reader who rants about their special interests?

Jax x Reader (Who rants about special interest)(Established Relationship)

Hello and thank you for the submission! Again, I’m sorry for it taking so long to get to this, there’s quite a few of you and I’m very grateful for that!!!

Since you didn’t tell me what sort of special interest Reader has, I’m gonna go ahead and slip in a few of my own. Hope you don’t mind anon!!!

“...and that’s why it’s the coolest pet you could ever own!” You shake your drawing of a crow at Jax. He chuckled a bit, reaching up and flicking you in between your eyebrows, “You’re such a birdbrain, (Y/N).” You grin in response,

“I’m serious, Jax!” you hum happily, despite the stinging on your brow, “crows are hyper-intelligent and super cool! Did you know they remember a face generations later? Even if they’ve never actually seen that person their entire lives, they can recognize them!

“And to make things even better, they have funerals for each other too! And they hold court! And they have accents for different regions!” You squeal, bouncing on your toes a bit, “I’ve always, always wanted one!”

“Oh really? I couldn’t tell,” He rubbed your hair, still grinning. You never ceased to make him smile. It was just the way you are, never out of things to talk about, adorable all the while. He plucked the drawing from your hands, inspecting it closer. You’d drawn quite a few crows on the paper, at least twelve.

“Mine now,” Jax turned and, cackling, dashed up the hall. “HEY!” you giggle, running after him, “give it back, Bunny Boy!” His legs were much longer than yours, and he kept ahead easily, “Now you’re really not getting it back, Birdy!”

You put on an extra burst of speed, giggling through your heavy breathing, “Jax!” He dipped into his room, closing and locking the door behind him. You stop at the door, a grin wide on your face, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“Come on, let me in!” you call through the door, knocking on it a bit. “What’s the password?” his voice playfully responds. You bend down and peek in the keyhole, but all you see is a very shadowy yellow, “You covered the keyhole, you’re such a cheat!” You stand upright again.

“I dunno, Birdy, peeking into people’s rooms is kinda creepy.” You knock again, “Jaaaax, let me in!” “Biiiirdy, what’s the password?” He matched your tone.

“Fine. I’m a birdbrain,” you hear the lock unlatch, and he swings the door open, “Correct!” and he reaches down and grabs you, hugging you close as he yanks you inside, spinning you in the air. You’re laughing, holding him around the neck, “Jax!!”

“Aw, come on, I can’t do the thing you were talkin’ about yesterday? What was the characters… Fizz and Ozzie?” Your face flushed pink, realizing he really did listen to everything. You nod a bit, “Well… maybe we can,” you press your forehead against his, holding him tighter.

“So… you like it?” he pipes up after a long while. You lift your head, raising a brow, “Like what- oh my gosh!” He’d hung up every drawing you’d given him. His walls had at least thirty drawings, all of the things you’d told him about. You glanced around, stopping at the drawing hanging above his bed. Fizzeroli and Asmoedious. Your face split into a huge smile.

“Bunny…” you face him once more, “this is adorable!” You lean down and press your lips to his. Jax pulled you closer, leaning into the kiss. When you finally pull away, you giggle a bit, “So… are you gonna set me down yet?” “Nah,” he carries you to bed, flopping down on it, you on his chest, “I’d rather just hold on.”

You snuggle against his chest, feeling so loved you could barely contain it, “I love you, you doofus.” You close your eyes, relaxing. “Love you too, Birdbrain.”

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #jax x reader #jax #tadc jax #tadc jax x reader #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus jax

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 9 months

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The Woes of Weddings (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

You can read the first part, The Woes of Betrothals, but it’s not necessary to read it to understand the plot :)

Synopsis: Your wedding with Prince Aemond draws near.

Warnings: fluff, so. much. fluff, p in v sex, tiddy succin’, oral (f! receiving), and fingering, slight impreg kink?? (if i missed out anything someone please tell me I’m too sleep deprived for this), jace shaming (on aemond’s part)

Word Count: 5K words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: You asked for a sequel to The Woes of Betrothals...and you got it. Featuring my first time writing smut 👀 I’m still improving on my smut writing skills, so please don’t laugh (I spent like five hours pouring about the specifics of smut writing too so) 😳 (see end of chapter for more A/N)

wonderful dividers credited to @firefly-graphics as always!

‘By the gods,’ you swore silently to yourself, watching the scene unfold before you, ‘I did not think that I could have anticipated anything quite as worrisome as this.’

Your wedding day was in less than a week’s time, and your anxiety was just reaching breaking point.

You stood uncomfortably on a slightly raised dais, attempting to keep as still as possible while the seamstresses around you fussed with the measurements of your wedding gown and cloak, adjusting it to perfection. You were unsuccessful in your regard, as you occasionally winced from the sharp sting of a needle poking your skin. Helaena sat in one corner of the room, observing the proceedings with a dreamy smile, which you returned. But it was the presence of the Queen Alicent that made you feel a little discomfited. Though the Queen was watching the scene with a smile, you saw glimmer of sorrow in her eyes every now and then, though it was quickly masked by her usual veneer of geniality. You wondered with a small blip of terror if the Queen was having second thoughts of wedding you to her beloved second son, but your worries were soon soothed with the thoughts of your beloved. You had greatly enjoyed the time you had both spent over the past few weeks: he had been nothing but a consummate gentleman and lover, nothing like the rumours of the cold prince you were once deceived by. Even now, thinking of your beloved, you had a rosy tinge to your cheeks and a smile on your face, despite the sting of the needles. You simply could not wait to discover what marital bliss your marriage will bring.

In another room, Aemond was faring far better than his fair lady was. Despite the rather unneeded presence of his grandsire in the room, scrutinising every move the tailors made, Aemond found himself to be quite far away from current happenings. His mind kept wandering back to his lady, and the sheer elation he felt that he would be wedding her in less than a week. It had been nearly a moon’s turn since he had confessed his true feelings to her, and every day since then has felt like a dream he never wished to wake from. He thought he would never experience more happiness as he had when he had claimed Vhagar, but this…it was a different sort of joy entirely. A contentment far more peaceful, and he found that he preferred this contentment to the hot blooded rush of triumph and adrenaline every time he rode Vhagar or won in his sparring jousts with Ser Criston.

The both of you had spent the past few weeks spending nearly every waking moment with each other: you watching him train at arms with a wide smile on your lovely face that never ceased to spur him on, which always made Ser Criston raise his eyebrows in both amusement and a sort of pride; both of you discussing histories and philosophies in the library, where Aemond had discovered your passion for dissecting philosophical theology, much to his delight; strolling in the gardens and watching you blush with joy whenever he picked a flower and put it in your hair. He had also made it a custom to bring you a hand-picked bouquet of flowers every day, utterly enchanted by the near ethereal glow of happiness on his lady’s face every time he presented the bouquet to you. If he were a better painter, he would have asked you to sit for a portrait. Alas. Well, he could always commission the best painter in Westeros to do so, although he wasn’t quite sure if they would be able to capture your essence.

Aemond sometimes thought it foolish that he had fallen in love so hastily, and so deeply at that. But he realised that when he woke up thinking about your smile and went to sleep every night thinking about how to make you smile even wider the next morrow, that no matter how much of a fool’s folly this may be, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He could not wait to be wedded to you.

The merry toll of bells resounded throughout King’s Landing, as nearly every single noble lord and lady gathered before the Iron Throne to celebrate the wedding of Prince Aemond Targaryen to his much cherished bride.

Aemond fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sleeves, a habit he hadn’t done since he was a young child. He had never really liked crowds, despite being a Prince. Helaena, who was standing next to him, separating him from a probably drunk Aegon, patted his arm reassuringly. Aemond turned his head to shoot her a small, grateful smile, just as trumpets heralded the entrance of the bride.

The courtiers turned their head to the doors, and gasps rippled through the crowd as they beheld the bride. Aemond felt as though he had lost all capability to function.

There you were, gliding towards him in a gown of white, looking like a vision of the Maiden herself. Delicate spirals of gold and flowers adorned the thick brocade and silk of your gown, a thick cloak of your House’s colours draped snugly across your shoulders. You were escorted down the aisle by your lord father, who was beaming with pride while shedding some very non-discrete tears. Aemond felt like weeping himself, and Helaena was tearing up a little herself.

When you reached the end of the aisle, your father removed the cloak from your shoulders, kissing you on your forehead, before entrusting your hand to Aemond, your beloved, who looked extremely dashing in his intricately tailored white wedding clothes. “Take care of my daughter, Your Grace,” your father said tearfully. Aemond gave the man a nod, “I will love her till the end of my days, my lord. Have no fear.” Then, Aemond turned to face you, a wide smile on his face, as he draped a heavy cloak of black and red across your shoulders. “My princess, my lady wife,” he whispered softly to you, caressing your hand in his. You smiled back at him, “My prince. My lord husband.” The both of you walked to the septon, pure joy emanating from your faces, as he officially pronounced the both of you man and wife, much to the raucous cheers of the crowd behind you.

The wedding feast was underway, and laughter and merriment was abound. For your first dance, you were whirled around the room by your husband, whose smile had not left his face since the moment he saw you. “I find it difficult to believe this is your first time waltzing, husband,” you said incredulously. “You are as nimble and graceful as any other lord in the room.” Aemond laughed softly, “Believe it or not, my lady, it is the first.” “But why?” you questioned, as Aemond twirled you around. Aemond looked hesitant, before answering softly, “Perhaps it was because I’ve never found the right dancing partner, until now.” You blushed, unsure of how to answer back, when Prince Jacaerys cut in, gallantly asking you for a dance, which you happily granted. What you did not notice however, was Aemond clenching his jaw as he watched you being whisked away by Lord Strong, but he shoved down the overbearing urge to punch the bastard in his face. ‘My love would be unhappy if I ruined our night,’ he kept repeating to himself, although he clenched his fists when he returned to the table and Aegon shot him a smirk, having saw everything. “Weren’t you drowning yourself in your cups, brother?” Aemond narrowed his eyes at him. “And weren’t you dancing with your bride? Oh wait,” Aegon said mockingly, “You’ve been forsaken for Jace once more.”

Now Aegon was the one Aemond wished to punch. But he took a deep breath, not wanting to cause any conflict on such a joyous night. It wasn’t worth it to get riled up over Aegon’s japes, it never was. However, Aemond felt miserable as he watched you getting twirled around by Jace, laughing with him, instead of him. No matter, in the end, it was him that was your husband, not the Strong bastard, nor anyone else.

You were a little out of breath, after being asked to dance by three other lords after Prince Jacaerys. Now, you were exhausted, and wished nothing more than to return to your husband’s side and converse with him, particularly about…You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought. Of your wedding night.

Spotting your husband sitting at the head table, you began to make your way towards him, but you were stopped by a familiar figure swathed in Hightower green. “Your Grace,” your eyes widened, before you dropped to a curtsey. Queen Alicent looked down at you with a smile, “At ease, please, we are family now, after all. You should address me as Mother instead.” You straightened, looking unsure as you glanced at your husband, who had already noticed you being accosted by his mother and was looking a little concerned. “Of course, Your Gr- I mean, Mother,” you said hesitantly. Queen Alicent’s smile turned a little warmer, “You may relax, dear, I merely wanted to have a conversation with you, from mother to daughter-in-law. Would you mind having a drink with me?”

“I would be honoured, Your Grace.” Queen Alicent swept towards her seat at the head of the table, you following obediently behind her, but not before looking to your husband for guidance, and perhaps some help. As you passed by Aemond, he squeezed your hand in a reassuring gesture, which made your nerves sooth a little. ‘I can do this’, you chanted in your head, ‘tis only the Queen after all. And we are family now, this sort of thing is inescapable.’ Queen Alicent gestured for you to take a seat, as the servants began pouring wine into your goblets. “I trust you understand what would happen after the wedding feast, yes?” You fought the urge to blush, as you answered, “Yes, Your- Mother. Septa Marlow has kindly instructed me on the matter.” The Queen nodded approvingly, “Good, then we can move on to the other matter I wish to speak of then.” You were startled, what other matter could the Queen wish to speak of with you?

The Queen took a sip of her wine, and for the first time, you noticed a certain sort of apprehension in her expression. The Queen said your name carefully, before asking, “Are you happy with my son?” You were struck by her sudden question, but you answered truthfully, “Yes, I am. He’s chivalrous, kind, and I have no doubt he would be a loving husband. I couldn’t have found a better husband.” The Queen smiled, but there was a certain bitterness in it. “You do not know how it warms my heart to hear you say so. Among my sons, I cherish Aemond the most. Though he may be…impassioned at times, my son is a good man. And it pleases me so that he is lucky enough to have found a wonderful woman such as you as his wife. I am certain that you will both have a happy union.” You blinked, taken aback by the scale of her compliments, “Thank you, my Queen. You flatter me, truly.” Suddenly, Aemond appeared next to you, hand on your shoulder as he greeted his mother. “Mother, if I may, I must steal my wife away for the moment. It is nearly time for the bedding ceremony.”

“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot about that.” The Queen laughs, standing up. She pecked her son on the cheek, “Well, the both of you best be off to your bedchambers then. I will await for the both of you to break fast with me on the morrow.” Aemond inclined his head and smiled tenderly at his mother, “Of course, Mother. I bid you good night.” When the Queen had walked away, Aemond gave you a sheepish smile, “Did my mother trouble you in any way?” You shook your head, though you were still reeling a little at the oddity of your conversation with the Queen. “No, my love…she only wished to express her congratulations to our union.”

Aemond breathed a sigh of relief, the tension seeping out of his muscles. “I’m glad to hear that.” He lowered his head to whisper huskily in your ear, “Now…how scandalous do you think it would be if I swept you into my arms right now and carried you to our bedchambers to consummate our marriage?” You looked at him with a mix of amusement and mortification, trying to discern how serious he was being. “I think we would be unable to show our face in court for nigh a moon’s turn.”

Aemond sighed mournfully, “A shame then….that I do not much care for that.” With that, he scooped you up into his arms, grinning wolfishly at your shriek of surprise and the bemused and intrigued looks the rest of the court was giving the both of you. “Please, continue to enjoy the feast, my lords and ladies. Tonight, I wish to express to my lady wife how elated I am at our union.” You heard Prince Aegon whistle at Aemond’s antics, and you buried your face in Aemond’s chest, unable to face the crowd as he carried you out the throne room. When the both of you reached your bedchambers, Aemond set you down gently, and smiled, “Was that too much?”

“Very much so,” you admitted, feeling your face burn. Aemond found it rather adorable that you were so embarrassed. “I do not think I can face anybody in court for the next few weeks.” Aemond laughed, sweeping you into an embrace and kissing you on the forehead, “Worry not, my love. If things go as planned…I can assure you you will not be leaving our bedchambers for a moon’s turn.”

You gaped, a little awestruck at your husband’s newfound boldness. He seemed to have transformed greatly from the shy, yet affectionate prince you had been spending your time with, into a confident, and evidently starved man, who was scanning you with such a greedy gleam in his lone violet eye that made a strange heat flare in your abdomen. His hands on your waist, he leaned in to whisper to you, “I trust you know what that entails?” You nodded slightly, not trusting yourself to speak at the moment, gazing up at his eye, which was clouded over in reverence and lust. “Good,” he whispered, “Now, would you allow your husband to unlace your bodice and help you out of your gown?” You nodded meekly. He smiled tenderly at you, turning you around and getting to work undoing your laces. You gasped when you felt your husband plant a kiss onto your exposed neck. “Are you nervous, my love?” Aemond asked sweetly, finally loosening the last laces of your dress.

“Yes…” you murmured softly, feeling anxiety begin to build in you as Aemond began to tug off your gown. “I’ve…I’ve never…”

Aemond turned you around to face him again, your bodice hanging around your waist by now, and his breathing was growing more erratic by the second. But his expression was loving as he said, “I know, my love. I know. I don’t want you to worry, all you need to do is lay there and allow me to give you your pleasure. Is that alright?” “But I wish to please you too,” you protested softly. Aemond took your hand in his and planted a kiss to the back of it, his gaze never leaving yours. “To be able to bring you pleasure is the greatest satisfaction I could ever want for, my love. Now…” He finally undresses you, making quick work of your smallclothes.

The first sight of your bare form has him questioning if he had truly died and went to heaven. You were the most marvellous sight he had ever laid eyes upon: your skin smooth and glowing in the firelight, your gait shy, legs pressed together to hide the growing arousal he had no doubt was pooling between your thighs. “Oh, my love…”

“Why? Is there something wrong?” you ask worriedly. Aemond shook his head, cupping your cheeks softly. “On the contrary, nothing has felt more right.” He directed you to sit on the bed, and you watched, riveted as he began to undress himself, his eye never leaving your face. He wanted to savour every single expression that graced your features tonight. When he had stripped himself off his doublet and smallclothes, you couldn’t help but admire the sight before you. He was majestic, his frame lithe and muscled. You let out a small gasp when you saw some scars littering his abdomen, tracing your fingers over them. His affectionate gaze followed you as you did. “How did you get these?” you asked quietly, looking up at your husband again. He smiled, threading a hand through your hair, “Just some scars from training at arms, my love. I wasn’t quite as proficient with the sword when I was younger, you know.” You continued tracing over them gently, almost reverently. “Do you…think they’re ugly?” Aemond asked quietly. You shook your head fervently, which made Aemond feel relieved. “Of course not, my love! Like my father likes to say, all scars tell of a story of failure, and how you managed to overcome them.” Aemond looked bemused, “Well, your father was very wise.” Aemond gently pushed your hands away, hands moving to his belt. “But enough of this talk, I think I’m neglecting the main purpose of the night: which is to lavish upon my beautiful wife all the attention she rightfully deserves.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but you soon felt your mouth running dry as Aemond undid his belt and shucked off his pants. You had seen an illustration of a man’s…cock several times, when you had the misfortune of stumbling upon a copy of ‘A Caution for Young Girls’ and several rather raunchy books by Grand Maester Elysar. But that all seemed like child’s play compared to the man before you. “Aemond, I…” you shut your mouth for fear of blurting out something that was very indecent, although from your state of undress, decency was the furthest thing from your mind now.

Aemond chuckled, bringing a hand to stroke your cheek gently. “Are you impressed by what you see, ñuha jorrāelagon?” Aemond asked teasingly. “Nuha jorrāelagon?” you wrinkled your forehead in a most adorable display. “It means my love in High Valyrian. I think that’s more unique than simply calling you my love in the Common Tongue. You deserve nothing but the most special things, after all. Which is why-” Your eyes widened as Aemond got onto his knees before you, grinning up at you mischievously. “I plan to make this the most memorable wedding night in history.”

“I-” you were cut off as Aemond began lavishing kisses on your breasts and chest, fingers nimbly flicking at your sensitive nipples. “Oh, Aemond!” you cried out, as his mouth replaced his fingers, gripping tightly onto his shoulders. “Mmm, and here I thought I would never hear a sweeter sound from your lips,” Aemond hummed gently against your skin, the sensation nearly driving you crazy. “Keep them coming, ñuha jorrāelagon.”

You gasped as you felt Aemond gently prying your legs apart, exposing your soaked cunny to him. Within a heartbeat, his fingers grazed over your cunt, making you cry out and arch your back. “My love-” You were interrupted by the sensation of Aemond inserting a finger inside of you, while his hot mouth was still sucking at your erect nipples. Your husband was a fan of interrupting you, it seems. “How does that feel, ñuha jorrāelagon?” Aemond asked in a sultry tone. “Good?”

“Yes, so good. So, so good,” you moaned out, nails digging into Aemond’s shoulder as he added a second finger and began pumping a little faster, encouraged by how wet your cunt was becoming for him. He grinned devilishly, moving his mouth from your nipples to your neck. You let out another cry as you felt Aemond’s teeth sink into the soft flesh just above your collarbone, before immediately soothing it over with his tongue. Aemond let out a groan as he felt you becoming even wetter as he left love bites across your neck, he didn’t even know it was possible for him to get even more turned on by how aroused you were getting from the pain. His cock was growing even more painfully hard by the second, and he gritted his teeth, trying to will himself to calm down. ‘This night is about her pleasure,’ he told himself sternly, ‘You can have your pleasure later, when she is satisfied first.’

You let out a whine as you felt Aemond remove his fingers, but a moan soon replaced whatever complaints you had when Aemond latched his tongue onto your cunt, licking and slurping at your juices like a starved man. Digging your fingers into Aemond’s shoulder, you felt an unfamiliar sensation begin building in your stomach as Aemond’s tongue began flicking and sucking at your clit, making you squirm. Aemond kept one firm hand on your thigh, while the other wandered up to play with your breasts. “Aemond…Aemond!” you cried out as you felt your “peak” (Coryanne Wylde had described that in A Caution For Young Girls) hit you, making your orgasm gush out all over Aemond’s tongue. Aemond groaned, feeling his cock become painfully hard as he watched you climax right before him. He continued devouring your cunt, determined to make you orgasm again. The taste of you was just too sweet that he had to have you come undone on his tongue again. You moaned and cried out, writhing as you felt the sensation building up in your stomach again. Your second peak came much sooner this time, in part due to how sensitive your clit was. Aemond dutifully lapped up every last drop of your juices, sucking at your clit before withdrawing and wiping his mouth with a grin. You looked completely blissed out, if not a bit lost as to what had happened. “Are you alright, ñuha jorrāelagon?” Aemond asked softly, hands caressing your thighs. You nodded shyly, and Aemond smirked. “Good.”

You yelped as Aemond pushed you onto the bed, your back hitting the sheets with a soft thump. The cool silk sheets were a welcome contrast to your burning skin, as Aemond grabbed your legs and hooked them around his waist. He leaned down to capture your lips with his, his kiss nothing like the chaste ones you had shared before. This kiss was messy, filled with lustful need, as he eagerly delved into your mouth with his tongue, fighting the urge to smirk when he heard you moan helplessly into his mouth at the pleasure. And it was about to get better for you, and for him as well.

You were breathing heavily as Aemond finally broke your intense kiss, looking up at your husband like he was a god. You noticed a hungry gleam in his eye as he leaned in to whisper, “This might hurt a bit, ñuha jorrāelagon. But I swear, the pleasure will overtake the pain soon enough. Do you trust me?”

You gulped, but you tried to put on a brave face as you replied, “I trust you, my love..” Aemond bent down to kiss you sweetly. “Thank you, ñuha jorrāelagon. Just hold on to me, alright?”

Your brows furrowed, but you squeezed your eyes shut in pain at the next moment, when you felt your husband’s cock slip between your folds and inside you. You cried out, the discomfort jarring you as he gradually sunk into you, letting you get used to his huge size. Aemond stroked your cheek softly, kissing away the tears that had formed at your eyes. “It’s alright, ñuha jorrāelagon. It will get better, I promise.” And he was right, you felt the pain ebb away slowly, replaced by a yearning for Aemond to move inside of you. “Aemond,” you whispered, “Husband. Could you move, please?”

Aemond smiled tenderly at you. “With pleasure, ābrazȳrys.” He slowly rolled his hips, and you felt your eyes flutter shut with pleasure. “Oh…feels so good, my love.” Aemond chuckled softly, moving in and out of you in a leisurely pace, enjoying the sight before him. “I’m glad to hear that, ñuha jorrāelagon. I’m going to pick up the pace now, is that alright?” You nodded, desperate to relieve the ache you felt. Aemond kissed you on the nose, before speeding up, causing your eyes to roll back. “Seven hells,” Aemond swore, panting a little, “You’re so tight for me. So perfect.” You moaned at his words, feeling a hot wave of shame, but also arousal wash over you. His words were so filthy…but you wanted to hear more of it. Aemond moved even faster, his own pleasure overtaking whatever rational thought he had about taking it slow. You whimpered when you felt him hit a spongy spot, tightening your grip on his shoulder at how deep he was going.

“I love you so much, you know,” Aemond panted out, his silver hair now in disarray and his forehead beaded with sweat as he thrusted inside you. “More than anything in the world. I never thought it was possible for me to love someone to this extent, but you…with you, everything feels possible. I would move mountains for you, ñuha jorrāelagon.” You bit your lip, touched by his words. Moving your hand to the strap of his eyepatch, you murmured, “May I?” Aemond swallowed, feeling reluctant for you to see his actual face, to see the ugly scar that tormented him constantly. But you seemed so genuine, so earnest, that he could only nod stiffly. You pulled it off, setting the eyepatch aside, and ran your finger gently on his scar. You beheld the sight of his sapphire eye without much fear, or disgust, both reactions that Aemond had been fearing, and he let out a sigh of relief, leaning down to kiss you again, before trailing his lips onto your neck and collarbone.

“You are truly wondrous, ñuha jorrāelagon, do you know that? You make me want to learn every little thing about you…all your likes, your dislikes, what makes you beam and what makes you tick…I just want to never stop learning about you.” Aemond whispered against your skin. “No other books in the world, both known and unknown, could measure up to the enchanting goddess that is you, ñuha jorrāelagon. I love you, so much.”

You moaned softly, moving to tug at Aemond’s hair as he left more love bites on your neck. “I love you too, Aemond. From now, till the end of our days. You are the sun in my universe. No, more than that. You are my moon, my light, my reason to keep breathing. You are everything to me.”

Aemond groaned softly, feeling his own release getting closer as he listened to your declaration of love. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, “Thank you, ñuha jorrāelagon. Thank you for not turning away from me. For loving me. For not seeing me as lesser than.” You tilted your head upwards to give him a tender smooch on the lips. “You never need to thank me for loving you, Aemond. You are deserving of it. And I promise to show you all the love that you deserve throughout our marriage.” And that was the final straw for Aemond. With a throaty moan, he spilled inside of you, feeling your walls clench around him as he did. You followed shortly after, reaching your third climax of the night as you arched your back in pleasure. Aemond continued thrusting inside you, letting you ride out your peak, as he kissed you fervently. You tangled your hands in his hair, moaning into his mouth. After a while, Aemond finally ceased moving in you, pulling out of you. He broke your kiss and pecked you on the forehead, “Wait here, ñuha jorrāelagon.” You watched, confused, as Aemond disappeared, returning with a wet cloth. He sat next to you, cleaning up the mess of fluids on your thighs, where you noticed a small spot of blood on the sheets. ‘My maidenhood,’ you thought, chewing on your bottom lip. ‘It seems I am well and truly a woman now.’ You watched with wide eyes as Aemond kissed up your thighs softly, before pushing his fingers inside your cunny again, causing you to gasp out. “It’s to make sure my seed isn’t wasted, ñuha jorrāelagon,” Aemond explained, stroking your skin softly. “I hope that it’ll get you with child a little sooner.”

You felt your cheeks flush as he planted a final kiss over your cunt, smirking as he murmured, “I would like nothing more than to see your belly swell with my child, ñuha jorrāelagon. I am sure that you would be a wonderful mother.”

He then disposed of the cloth, settling next to you on the bed comfortably and taking you into his embrace. “Did I hurt you anywhere, ñuha jorrāelagon?” Aemond asked you with a concerned look on his face. You smiled reassuringly, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. You didn’t hurt me anywhere.” “I’m glad,” he smiled, before his expression turned coy. “And was everything to your satisfaction, ñuha jorrāelagon?” You laughed, “It was everything the romance novels promised.” That answer pleased him, and he swept you into another kiss, his thumb swiping across your cheekbones.

‘And so, Prince Aemond of House Targaryen took Lady Y/N of House Y/H/N to bride in 126 AC, and all who witnessed their nuptials agreed that the match was well made, indeed. Prince Aemond and Lady Y/N’s union would prove to be both happy and fruitful, bringing forth five children: three sons and two daughters.’

-from the chronicles of Fire and Blood, on the reign of Viserys the Peaceful, written by Archmaester Gyldayn.

translations: ābrazȳrys - wife, ñuha jorrāelagon - my love

Aemond General Taglist: @aiyaiy @sylas-the-grim

if you wish to be added to the taglist for all my aemond-related works, you can tell me in the comments or through this form :)

A/N: And that’s part 2! I hope the people who requested for one are happy with this haha 💗 I’m also thinking if I should turn this into a domestic fluff Aemond series lol, what do you guys think? If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for reading! If you liked this one shot, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated xxx

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 4 months

Note

Okay, okay s/o being part of Itto's gang and Sara is constantly annoyed by the shenningans.

(Genshin Impact) Sara's S/O being part of Itto's gang

Sara regrets many things in her life. The people she wronged during the Vision Hunt Decree. The arrests she made.

And the biggest regret of all, falling in love with a dumbass of immeasurable magnitude.

Whenever they were with her alone, S/O was the sweetest person she had ever met.

They didn't care about who she was supposed to be, they loved her for her. Not as a general, or a daughter of the Kujou family, just Sara.

S/O was always so polite and courteous with her, never failing to put a smile on her face.

But the moment they were with Itto?

====

Sara had received news of a disturbance from the Arataki Gang, specifically demanding for her presence.

She showed up, ready to throw a couple of morons into a holding cell until she saw S/O alongside Itto, and 2 other members wearing-

(Sara) "By the Shogun, what the hell are you wearing?"

They were all wearing matching red and white striped uniforms, with fake mustaches and straw hats.

(S/O) "Back me up boys!" ahem "I may not always love youuuuu-~"

(Everyone) "BUT LONG AS THERE ARE STAAARS ABOVE YOUUUUU!

YOU NEVER NEEEEED TO DOUBT IIIIT!

I'LL MAKE YOU SO SURE ABOUT IIIIT!-"

(S/O) "-God-

(Itto) "-God-!"

(Everyone) "-GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT I'D BEEEE, WITHOUT YOOOUUUU!~"

Their voices were completely out of harmony, and grating to the ears.

Worst of all, it was drawing attention, and everyone was beginning to connect the dots.

S/O had gotten the gang to provide backup vocals for a love song, for her.

(Sara) "Cease this racket at once, or I will throw you into the cells myself! This is a public area, you can't just start bursting into song like this!"

(S/O) "Aw, do you not like the song?-"

Sara shut her eyes as she felt her cheeks intensify in heat.

(Sara) "Do not change the subject on me, S/O!"

She had half a mind to smite them where they stood. Honestly, she was pretty close to doing so.

(Itto) "Ah come on, no one sings better than the Arataki Quartet! Right guys?"

(Arataki Gang Member 1) "Yeah!"

(Arataki Gang Member 2) "Dang right, boss!"

(S/O) "No one's better than us!"

====

S/O was involved in Beetle fighting, specifically making sure to call theirs "Sara" too.

If it wasn't for Shinobu's help, S/O and Itto would have been smacked upside the head by Sara more times than she could count.

And Archons above, S/O argues so loudly about her wings!

(S/O) "No, I won't let Sara make you fly off! Stop asking, man!"

(Itto) "Whaat?! Come on bro, just ONE flight is all I'm asking!"

(S/O) "Those wings are MINE! Back off!"

(Sara) "I'm standing right here! And they're mine, S/O."

(S/O) "Aw come on, I've seen you smile when you let me nap on your wi-"

(Sara) "S-SHUT UP! Don't go announcing that to the entire world!"

(Itto) "Bleh! TMI, nevermind, don't want it!"

Honestly, Sara has no idea how she fell in love with this idiot.

...But she couldn't deny that it did make her feel happy at times.

(Itto) "Goood, S/O never shuts up about you!"

(Shinobu) "Boss, not exactly a good idea to insult S/O to her face."

(Itto) "Psh, it's not exactly false either!"

(Sara) "R-Really?"

(Itto) "GOD yeah! They keep goin' on and on about how sweet you are, it's like, DUDE! I KNOW! YOU SAID IT LIKE, FIVE TIMES NOW!"

Sara lets a small smile escape her lips before clearing her throat.

(Sara) "Hmph. I'll talk to them."

(Itto) "Please do, I'm gonna jump off a cliff the next time they start gushing about you!"

Itto walked off, leaving Shinobu and Sara alone.

(Shinobu) "...So you're going to kill them for gushing aloud how much they love you, right?"

(Sara) "Probably."

Shinobu chuckled, her mask muffling her voice.

(Sara) "I just wish they could express their love in ways that didn't make my veins burst in anger."

(Shinobu) "Psh, we both know you secretly love it."

(Sara) "I do not."

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara x y/n #kujou sara #arataki itto #arataki gang #kuki shinobu

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writtenfangirl · 9 months

Text

Secrets and Good Luck Charms

Plus size!Reader, angsty turning fluffy

Listen, as a plus size woman myself, I know that the chances of an F1 driver being attracted to me is close to 0, especially when they're literally always surrounded by supermodels. But I can live in my delulu era, even for a little while.

I challenged myself to create a fic with top-tier begging and I genuinely hope I accomplished that cause this was so much fun to write.

Enjoy!

Part 2

“Charles, I think we should break up.”

The words left her in a sudden whoosh, ceasing her boyfriend mid-story. His apartment went quiet, and Y/N felt the little hairs on her arms rise but her goosebumps wasn’t from the cold.

Charles’s luminous green eyes widened.“What?”

A part of her wished she could take the words back, snatch them from the air where they hung heavy like smoke. But she’d been building up her courage all week and she wasn’t about to back down now just because he flashed those beautiful green eyes that Charles knew she could never resist. She said the words slower, kinder. “I think we should break up.”

He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. “Why?”

“Because you’re ashamed of me, Cha.”

And there was the truth, the conviction that had Y/N’s resolve strengthening. Charles could deny it all he wants but Y/N knew the truth, deep down. He was ashamed of her. It was a truth that had been sitting in her chest for the better part of 9 months and it was a truth that had begun to eat at her as their relationship progressed.

He said his next words slowly, like a child struggling to learn new words in a language he wasn’t familiar with. “What would make you say that?”

She kept her own tone even, betraying none of the hurt that sat heavy in her chest. “Because, Cha. We’ve been together 9 months, close to a year, and yet you have never introduced me to your mother or your brothers. Not even to your friends. No posts on social media, no mention of my existence at all.”

He frowned. “I thought you wanted your privacy.”

“I do want my privacy.”

“Then I don’t understand why you want to end things!” His voice grew in octave and Y/N could see him fighting to keep his calm.

“Because, Cha,” she said, struggling to keep the exasperation from her voice, “you’re ashamed of me. I don’t care that you post me on social media or not. I don’t care if the world knows about us. If you want to keep our relationship out of the public eye, that’s fine. I know you’re doing it to protect my feelings and I appreciate it, I do. But, you refuse to let me meet your friends or your family for that matter. They’re the people that matter to me because they’re the people that matter to you. But I’ve never met them, even after you’ve met mine! And I’m—“ she took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting the hurt that threatened to have tears spilling from her eyes. “I’ve dated enough guys to know when they’re ashamed of me.”

“I am not—“

“Don’t deny it, Cha, please. It hurts even more if you do.”

His mouth snapped shut. There was confusion in his face, and maybe a bit of hurt, but Y/N saw the truth in them too. The shame that coated his eyes like paint.

“I know I’m not conventionally beautiful like your exes.” Y/N said, her words soft. “They’re thin and slender and they’re beautiful. They really are. Models and influencers that I could never compete with and I’m okay with that because you were okay with that. But I see now that you’re not. You don’t like that I’m big, that I have a stomach and huge thighs. You don’t like that I have stretch marks and rolls. And you know what, it’s fine. If you prefer thinner girls, it’s fine. I won’t hold it against you because I know some people just have preferences and it’s okay. But I refuse to ever change myself and hate myself just to fit into a person’s standards. I’ve spent so much of my life being ashamed of my body, I can’t do that anymore, Cha. I love you and you are literally the man of my dreams but I love myself too, and I love myself too much to let someone do this to me.”

“You can’t just leave me. I love you.” Charles rushed the words out as if somehow, his words would stop Y/N.

“I don’t doubt your love for me, Cha. Not one moment. I know you love me. But you don’t take me on dates in public places where people can see us. When we do go out in public, you keep a physical distance between us. You never even so much as look at me unless you have to. I’ve never met a single one of your friends, work related or not. I don’t think you’ve even mentioned to them that you were with someone. Never met Arthur or Lorenzo and I’ve definitely never met Pascale. You love me in secret and that’s not okay.”

He reached for her hand but Y/N pulled away. The hurt that flashed in his eyes made her want to tell him to forget about her confession, forget about what she said so they can return to normal but Y/N knew she couldn’t do that. She owed it to herself to do what was best for her, to love a man who loved her so much he had to shout it from the rooftops.

“Y/N, please—“

“It’s okay, Charles.” She stood up from where she sat, pushing down her own feelings as Charles looked up at her, disbelief in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Really, no hard feelings. Let’s just forget that this, us, ever happened. I wish you good luck with everything, I really do. I’ll pray to every God that exists that you become a world champion with Ferrari. I’ll always root for you.”

“Y/N, wait—“

But she fled the apartment before he could say anymore.

And Charles Leclerc is out of the 2023 Belgian Grand Prix! I have to say, Crofty. Leclerc’s string of bad luck and terrible performance has really been a blow to Ferrari’s morale as of late. It really is such a horrible way to end the first half of the season, especially after such an incredible six months! It truly is such a shame. With the way things are going, what was once a tight race for the championship between Verstappen and Leclerc could simply become Verstappen’s third world championship. Let’s hope the summer break gives him the clarity of mind he needs to get his head back in the game and the championship race back on track.

Charles wasn’t stupid. He knew why he was losing and it wasn’t his car or his team or their strategies.

His abysmal performance could only be blamed on one person and try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to blame Y/N.

Because really, the only person to be blamed was himself.

Because she was right.

And he hated that she was right.

He never thought he was the kind of person who was vain or who particularly cared about the opinions of others. He knew what it was like to be scrutinized by the media and while he justified keeping his relationship with her private by believing that Y/N was a private person, he couldn’t justify hiding her from his friends and family.

It didn’t even really matter to him what she looked like. He loved Y/N, not for her body but for her soul. He was the moth attracted to her bright flame and he would have gladly let himself burn if it meant feeling the heat of her touch on his skin. She was kindness and warmth and compassion all rolled into one person, the kind of person people wished God made more of.

And he found her beautiful. Yes, she wasn’t thin but he never cared about that before. Y/N was beautiful in his eyes. The kind of beauty meant to be admired in paintings. Her soft, curvaceous body and her sweet face made her beautiful. She may not have fit society’s standards but she fit his and that’s all that mattered. That’s all that should have mattered.

So why did her words, her accusations, cut him so deep?

Was she right? Was he ashamed of her?

“Mate, you okay?”

Carlos’s voice broke him out of his reverie. It wasn’t like Charles to get distracted from the matter at hand, but his mind kept wandering to his girlfriend. Or rather, ex-girlfriend.

“You’ve been distracted.” Max noted.

It was the summer break, a rare time in their hectic lives when they got a chance to take a breather. One of the drivers, Charles couldn’t remember who but he suspected it was George, had arranged a little get together for them. Alone time on a remote island in the tropics far from the prying eyes of their fans and the media. Not all of the drivers could make it, but those that could brought their girlfriends with them. The irony wasn’t lost on Charles that he was the only single man in an island full of couples.

It was the kind of outing he would have wanted to include Y/N in but wouldn’t have, choosing instead to stay at home so they could spend some time alone. It never occurred to him if Y/N would have wanted to come.

“I’m fine,” was his only brusque reply.

“You don’t seem fine.” Pierre chimed in.

Charles tried not to scowl. The other drivers were his friends as much as they were his co-workers and competitors. He grew up racing and competing with most of them. Max, George, Alex, Lando and especially Pierre, were constant figures in his life. If there was anyone who could help him, who could understand him, it would be them.

But it was so hard to accept the help when Charles was so… down.

He looked at his friends, saw the expectant looks on their faces and sighed.

“My girlfriend broke up with me.” The words left him before he had a chance to think about it.

His friends’ expectant expressions turned into surprise before shifting to mild curiosity.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” Pierre’s frown could only be described as hurt. Not that Charles could blame him. Pierre was his best friend and the first person who supported him when it came to his relationships. The fact that Charles kept his girlfriend a secret probably hurt him more than he let on.

“No one knew,” Charles said reassuringly. “Not my brothers and not maman.”

“So you were only together for a short while,” Carlos guessed. “What’s the big deal?”

Charles couldn’t blame Carlos for assuming that Y/N was only in his life for a while since he never told them she existed but the insinuation hurt all the same.

“We were together close to a year. 9 months actually.”

“That long?” Alex asked, surprised. “Usually you introduce your girlfriends after two months. You kept her a secret for nine months?”

Charles winced. What sort of excuse did he have for keeping her a secret? No flimsy excuse could ever justify what he did.

“Why did she end things?” Max asked him.

Dread pooled in Charles’ stomach. What does he even say? He looked at his friends, at their earnest and open expressions. He knew no matter what he says, they won’t judge him. Or at least, not to his face.

“She ended things because she thinks I’m ashamed of her.“ Charles’ admission tasted like metal in his tongue.

“Why would you be ashamed of her?” George asked, raising a quizzical brow.

“Because she’s nothing like my exes. She’s not thin or slender, she’s full bodied. I’ve never introduced her to any of you, not even to my family. She thinks I’m embarrassed to be seen next to her.”

“Are you?” Lando asked, judgement ripe on his face.

“No!” Charles’ defense was quick. “I am not ashamed of her. I never have been! I’m… I’m more ashamed of myself. That I didn’t reassure her. I’m ashamed that I did something that made her feel bad. I hate that I did that to her.”

“Why didn’t you introduce her to us and your family anyway?” Carlos asked this time.

“Because with her, I feel real. I feel different. A good different. And I know how cruel people can be. I know you might not have judged her and I know if my brothers and maman met her, they would love her. Maman, especially. But if I introduced her to you, then that’s one step closer to introducing her to the world. I was scared she couldn’t take the attention and run.”

“Is she why you’ve been so bad in track lately?” Max asked.

Charles simply nodded before closing his eyes and rubbing his face in frustration. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Well there’s only one thing you can do,” George said in that tone he uses when he thinks he knows best. “You have to go after her. Go back to her and beg her to take you back.”

“And then what?” Charles snapped, unable to stop himself from voicing out the fear that’s been plaguing his mind, “She’ll still be watched by the media. Y/N is soft and she is kind. I don’t know what I would do if people say bad things about her and I know they will. I’ve dated literal supermodels and people were mean. What more someone like her? If someone insulted her in front of me, I might actually commit assault.”

“Mate, that’s up to her and you to talk about it,” Max said. “You can’t really take the choice away from her. If you love this girl, then be with her. Fuck what other people think.”

“Charles, all that matters to us is that you are happy. If she makes you happy, then we will be happy,” Pierre reassured. “You don’t have to worry about us. This girl doesn’t happen to be an ax-wielding psychopath, right?”

The rest of their group winced at Pierre’s poor attempt at a joke but Charles smiled nonetheless. Trust Pierre to always try his best to lighten the mood. “No, she’s kind of perfect actually. I really love her.”

“Then go to her so you can get your head back in the game and beat Max in the championship,” Carlos urged.

“I don’t know about beating me,” Max smirked and the topic of their conversation shifted to playful jibes and jokes. But Charles’ mind stayed on Y/N, at his friends encouraging words and before his mind could reconcile what his body was doing, he was already on his feet, heading to one of the yachts moored on the island.

“Where are you going?” Pierre called out as he ran from his friends, towards the woman he loved.

Charles answered, his mind racing as fast as his heart. “To get my girl!”

When Y/N heard the frantic knocking on her apartment door at 1AM, she expected the worst.

Which of her family had died? Which of her friends was laying in a ditch somewhere with their car wrapped around a tree? What was the tragedy so urgent, so horrific, that it couldn’t wait until the next day and had to knock on her door at 1AM in the morning?

But when she opened the door, all she saw was Charles, eyes wide and frantic.

“Cha?” Y/N asked, not quote believing her bleary eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed her face, bringing his mouth on hers in a searing kiss that had Y/N’s eyes shuttering close and her breath leaving her lungs.

She tasted the salt of his sweat, felt the searing heat of his hands on her skin as his tongue swept across her mouth, kissing her as if he was underwater and she was the siren able to grant him his oxygen. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her heart deciding what her mind already knew but refused to believe.

She had missed him, wholeheartedly. And she knew that if Charles ever came knocking back, her self restraint would crumble like chalk on pavement. She would accept him, consequences be damned.

“I’m sorry,” he panted when she pulled away, her mind racing. “I’m so sorry.”

“Charles, I don’t understand. What are you doing here? I thought you were—“

“It doesn’t matter where I was,” he insisted, his grip on her tightening, like he was afraid that letting go would cause her to disappear. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough. Cherie, tu es belle. Je suis vraiment désolé. Je n'ai jamais eu l'intention de te blesser.”

“Charles, slow down,” Y/N urged, pulling him into her tiny apartment and closing the door behind her. Her french was rudimentary at best and with how fast he was talking, she was struggling to translate what he said. “You’re speaking in French. I don’t understand.”

“You are beautiful.” He blurted, stopping Y/N in her tracks. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you but I did anyway and I hate that I hurt you. I’m not ashamed of you but I am ashamed of how I acted. Forgive me, cherie, please. Please take me back.”

“Charles—“ Her phone trilled from where it was charging in her living room and Y/N pulled away from Charles it, ignoring her best friend's flashing face and clicking the red button to silence it.

“You deserve better than me, I know,” he continued, “and I know I don’t deserve you. But I will do everything I can to at least be deserving of your forgiveness. Please, Y/N. Say you forgive me.”.

“Charles—“ her phone rang again and with a growl of frustration, Y/N grabbed it, answering it upon seeing her best friend’s face flashing. “Y/BFF/N, I can’t talk right now. I'm in the middle of—“

“Did you see?” Y/BFF/N said frantically on the other end, causing Y/N to frown. “Tell me you saw it!”

She sent Charles an apologetic look as she answered. “Saw what?”

“Check Charles’ instagram! And I mean, right the fuck now! Call me back when you do.” And she hung up.

Y/N glanced at Charles before following her best friend’s instructions, opening up the app and searching for Charles’ account. When she saw her picture on the first square, Y/N’s eyes snapped to Charles.

“You told your friends about us,” Y/N said, stunned.

“I told the world about us,” he clarified. “I never told anyone because I was selfish. I am not ashamed of you. I never have been, never will be. I was scared because introducing you to my family and my friends means that you’re one step closer to being known to the world and I was scared you would run from all of it. From the fame, from the mean comments. It’s happened before and I didn’t want it to happen again, especially not to you. I’m not naive. If people can be mean and ruthless to girls who look like Charlotte and Alexandra, what more you? I thought I was protecting you. I don’t ever want you to leave. Please, come back to me.“

“I can’t believe you told everyone about us.” Y/N still sounded dumbfounded, even to her own ears.

Charles gave her watery smile. “People should know about you and the love I have for you.”

Y/N wasn't entirely sure what it is about Charles that could have her melting into a puddle on the floor. She's been with good looking men before and none of them ever had that effect on her. But his confession, his conviction, had her abandoning her phone's incessant notifications, her arms automatically wrapping around Charles' neck, pulling him to her. His hands rested on her waist, ghosting down her back.

And, despite herself, Y/N felt her lips pulling into a soft smile. “You know, when I went to bed a while ago, I wasn’t expecting to see my ex knocking at my door, begging me to take him back at one in the morning. Especially since I know he’s suppose to be somewhere in the tropics on vacation.“

“Begging?” Charles raised a brow, almost in challenge, a small smile playing at his lips. Mirth and hope mixed in his green eyes and Y/N knew that there was never any chance she couldn’t accept his apology.

She nodded, her smile turned teasing. “Oh, yeah, definitely begging. Groveling at my feet, asking for forgiveness. Never seen anything like it, to be honest. You know, some girls have a thing for that and I never really understood it before but now, I kinda do. I might not forgive him just so I can listen to him beg again.”

“You are a cruel woman,” Charles said as he pulled her closer to him, his hands warm on her waist, his nose barely touching her own as his breath tickled her mouth.

“Is that what you’d call the woman willing to forgive you?” She batted her eyes, feigning innocence. “Even after she knows you’re only begging for forgiveness because of your losing streak? You did always call me your good luck charm.”

“You are my good luck charm.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in those things?”

“When it comes to you, I’ll believe in anything and anyone,” he said seriously before he grinned, wide and infectious. The kind of grin that promised an evening of debauchery and laughter. “So you forgive me?”

“Well, you did tell the world that I was your girlfriend so now I have to forgive you and take you back. I wouldn’t want to make a liar out of Charles Leclerc.”

He smiled triumphantly and this time, when Charles dipped his head for another searing kiss, Y/N didn’t pull away.

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chaosfae-writes · 2 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

synopsis; a tender moment away from the chaos.

pairing; Alicent Hightower x brown!Targaryen!reader

a/n; a drabble for my love, mine all mine. requested by a lovely mutual from ao3. fluff for my gay mothers. they deserve it.

It’s a miracle from the Seven that the raven hasn’t been struck dead by the heat of Alicent’s eyes.

A letter has arrived, hailing from Dragonstone. Princess Rhaenyra declares her soon return to King’s Landing—- the note wrinkles under Alicent’s fingers.

It has been two months.

Two months since the incident with Vaemond—- who broods in his self-pity. He's been a sore thumb, he doesn’t quite mesh well in the king’s court. He reeks of the sea, and his insistence of traveling to Driftmark has not ceased.

Rhaenyra, nor Laenor doesn’t have any inkling that Alysanne has been born. Alicent has relished in her selfishness, savoring all her time with Alysanne, and you.

Even in the past days, Vaemond has barely held Alysanne—- Alicent ensured of that. Now the Realm’s Delight is to return and soil Alicent’s life once more.

A dread burdens Alicent’s mind as she tosses the letter in the fire’s pit, watching it smolder to ash within the flames.

Alicent worries. She worries that Rhaenyra will meddle. Snatch Alysanne under the guise of a doting aunt—- and her plain featured sons mingling with Alysanne, Alicent scoffs under her breath.

A sinking sensation caves inside Alicent’s cavity, her footfalls faltering.

Mutely Alicent enters her chambers, moving in the silence as a mouse.

Her quarters are warm, provided heat from the burning hearth. Thankfully, the windows are shielded by the floor-length double curtains—- white and green. A comforting dimness casts upon Alicent. Candles are lit, providing a dew hue.

A spacious chamber, meant for the queen, her only reprieve. In the corner, is a cradle with toys.

Sniffling as her shaky fingers unclip her earrings—- she stops in her tracks.

On her massive bed, there lay three sleeping lumps huddled.

Alicent quietly steps closer to the bed, a small tender smile curls at her lips. Sunk into the massive stitched quilts, pale and sepia arms interlocked—- and tucked in the middle is a small bundle with short tuft of silver, and chubby brown curling fists.

Helaena rests to the left, as you lay asleep on the right of the mattress. Alysanne stretches her small arms, and settles back in her sleep.

Alicent is grateful that you can understand Helaena—- and be her comfort. Helaena is a painfully shy, and odd child, but she is Alicent’s pride and joy.

That Targaryen strangeness, how sweetly you would coddle Helaena as a little duckling. Especially, when Helaena would get fussy, you always calmed her down.

It’s only you that Alicent fully trusts with her children, how you helped her when she didn’t feel any bond with them when they were freshly born.

Eased the burden of motherhood, let her rest when the children got too rambunctious, and she felt the threads of her sanity snapping.

Alicent quietly sits at the edge, her hand finding rest on your hip, caressing you through the embroidered quilt. A sweet sight that calms Alicent, the stresses melting away from her skin.

Alicent’s hand leans to Alysanne’s little chest, feeling her breathing under her palm. Her finger stroking the plump cheek, her small sleepy huffs. Moving to Helaena’s silver head, curling her hair behind the shell of ear.

Alicent’s body yearns to rest, she stands to get up for her vanity.

Alicent tugs on the emerald fabric, undressing and freeing her flesh. The dress falls in a wrinkled bundle by her feet, leaving her in her undergarment sheath.

Walking to her dresser, as she untangles the gold ringlets from her thick waves. One by one, removing the rings on her fingers —- all but one.

The one you gifted her, on that day on Dragonstone. Alicent can still feel the warmth of the sun, and the sweet whispers of shared vows. She twirls the bejeweled ring between her finger tips, a small smile curls.

Bare from jewelry and confining lace, thick waves of curls bounce down to the nape of spine, Alicent’s eyes gaze through her mirror—— catching yours in the reflection.

She hums a giggle. With a grace to her step, Alicent walks to the bed. Curling under the quilt, you gaze at Alicent sleepily. Cuddling Helaena’s little body to her chest, Alicent interlocks her ankles with yours.

You can tell by the way Alicent’s eyes droop that she’s been thinking too hard —- worrying too hard.

Tenderly, your knuckles graze Alicent’s cheek. “What ails you, my dearest?” The pad of your thumb soothes under her eye, cupping her face. Alicent holds your hand in hers, eyes closing with a dejected sigh.

For a split second, you stare at her red cuticles.

“Nothing of importance.” Alicent says, kissing your wrist. “The council’s insistent bickering over the realm.” She swallows.

It pains Alicent not to be honest with you, but your love for your sister has not yet simmered. She intends to keep you away from Rhaenyra as long as she can, hoping that a distance can be reached between your eldest sister and yourself.

Not only for yourself, but for Alysanne’s future.

“As the Princess, I order you to stay,” both of you giggle quietly. “I command the Queen’s presence.”

“Ah, how could I disobey an order?” Alicent jests. A happy toothy smile. A comfortable heat encases you both. Alicent plays with Alysanne’s soft tuft of hair.

“How did they fair the day?” Alicent asks.

“They fell asleep rather quickly,” you say, looking at the girls adoringly. “Helaena was excited to show Alysanne her toy bugs.”

Alicent scrunches her nose, “I prefer the wooden ones, I found one crawling near my dresser.” You suck in your lips, to stifle the laugh that rips in your chest, shaking.

Alicent tuts, “Pray to the Gods, you don’t discover a beetle dancing in your sheets.” She speaks through a laugh, her smile wanton now. Her cheeks glowing.

Small conversations, and a few kisses flowed through the hour. Within the noon, all fell in slumber, hugging in embrace.

#alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower lesbian #wlw #brown reader #chaosfae drabble

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bloodscribed · 1 month

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PROMPTS FROM VARIOUS LITERARY SOURCES.

I have not broken your heart — you have; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.

I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.

Since we're all going to die, it's obvious that when and how don't matter.

When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where the madness lies?

To dream the impossible dream, that is my quest.

When we set the carriage afire, her flesh will be roasted, her bones will be charred: she will die an agonizing death.

What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us.

I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.

The bird fights its way out of the egg.

I have no right to call myself one who knows.

We who bore the mark might well be considered by the rest of the world as strange, even as insane and dangerous.

I have no idea whether parents can be of help, and I do not blame mine.

At one time I had given much thought to why men were so very rarely capable of living for an ideal. Now I saw that many, no, all men were capable of dying for one.

I will not make a gift of myself, I must be won.

Examine a person closely enough and you know more about him than he does himself.

One cannot apologize for something fundamental, and a child feels and knows this as well and as deeply as any sage.

The tree does not die. It waits.

Fate and character are different names for the same idea.

As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.

A man sees in the world what he carries in his heart.

All theory is gray, my friend. But forever green is the tree of life.

I am not omniscient, but I know a lot.

Everything transitory is but an image.

One mind is enough for a thousand hands.

Man errs, till he has ceased to strive.

Words are mere sound and smoke, dimming the heavenly light.

But you will never know another's heart, unless you are prepared to give yours too.

The Devil's in the house and can't get out.

Men's wretchedness in soothe I so deplore.

To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.

It takes something more than intelligence to act intelligently.

Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.

When reason fails, the devil helps!

A hundred suspicions don't make a proof.

The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment.

The fear of appearances is the first symptom of impotence.

Break what must be broken, once for all, that's all, and take the suffering on oneself.

Have you ever heard of 'a genius who had been stuffed and preserved'?

Every day I am fated to die.

All the activities of life seem unbearably dull to me and I have renounced them.

If you would be nice to me, I would gladly die for you this moment.

Having made an utter failure of my life, I found myself one day in the midst of my poverty and wretchedness, thinking about the female companions of my youth.

So, surrender to sleep at last. What a misery, keeping watch through the night, wide awake -- you’ll soon come up from under all your troubles.

Man is the vainest of all creatures that have their being upon earth.

There is a time for making speeches, and a time for going to bed.

For there is nothing better in this world than that man and wife should be of one mind in a house.

I swear by the greatest, grimmest oath that binds the happy gods.

Few sons are the equals of their fathers; most fall short, all too few surpass them.

#rp memes ;;#original memes ;;#roleplay prompts #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #rp meme #roleplay prompt

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mustainegf · 12 days

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SUMMARY: Kirk becomes obsessed in the dark allure of a certain groupie who is only interested in his fame. Despite his awareness that she's a perilous presence in his life, Kirk finds himself helplessly consumed by her magnetic and sinister charm. You can actually feel just how sorry he is, that he met Dirty Diana, because she's ruining his life. But she's like a drug and he can't escape, nor quit her.

READ FIRST: this story is obviously based off the song “Dirty Diana” by Michael Jackson. The song is about groupies sooo. I would suggest you listen to it while reading. I left dirty Diana nameless cause I know you guys like insert stuff!!

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, oral female receiving, degradation, praise, public sex

I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was gorgeous.

Dangerous. Viscous. I was obsessed.

Sure she was a groupie, but there was something about her that was just so alluring, so tempting.

She was everything I wasn't supposed to have. And yet I had to have her. She was young, maybe 23, but the way she looked at me made me think she was much older, maybe even more experienced than me.

She knew what she wanted. I could see it in her eyes, every time we locked gazes. She looked at me like she knew me, like we had been together before. It was maddening and exhilarating all at once.

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and no one could convince me otherwise.

I knew groupies well enough by now, they were attracted to your fame, your money, your status. I knew that all she was interested in, but that didn't cease my desire.

In fact, it made me want her more. So much more.

I needed her to prove to myself that she wasn't like the others, that she wasn't going to use me. If she was, then I wouldn't care.

I'd make her mine, even just for a night.

I Leaned against the bar top. Her face drifted through the crowd, various hues flashing over her face. I’d been watching her like this for an hour now.

She seemed harmless as she talked to those around her, laughed with them, drank with them. But she teased me with her gaze every once in a while. She watched me. I watched her.

Her gaze out of greed, mine of lust.

Her toxicity was addictive.

Her beauty lethal.

She was my poison, and I wanted to consume her.

Suddenly, she was no longer among the sea of people surrounding me. I scanned the area, searching for her. As if she sensed my search, a warm hand grazed my shoulder.

My breath caught in my throat. "Hey there, rockstar," she purred into my ear. I turned, meeting her gaze.

She looked poisonous, I begged that she'd inject me with her venom. Claim me as her own.

"Something on your mind Hammett? You've been staring," she jutted her lip out, pouting flirtatiously.

I swallowed thickly, trying to come up with the right words to say to her. "You put on a good show," I remarked, flicking my brows and taking a sip from my drink.

"Speak for yourself,"

she grinned, brushing her fingertips over my cheek before taking a seat next to me.

She set her glass down, peering back over at me.

"You've been following us around quite a bit, what's your deal, sweetheart?" I flirted back. As best I could anyways.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "My deal?" she asked with a sultry laugh. "You put on a good show." She quoted me from earlier. She was good at this.

I wondered if this was how she lured men in. This whole groupie thing wasn't as innocent as some thought. The more she spoke to me, the more my mind grew fuzzy.

She was getting to me. And damn it, she knew it. I tried my hardest not to let her affect me. To keep my head straight. But she was too beautiful. Too dangerous. How could anyone resist?

She seemed to read my thoughts as she smiled knowingly, taking another gulp from her glass.

"Maybe you can put on a good show for me?" she suggested suggestively. The idea had my cock twitching.

I was so hard, I felt like I would burst if she kept talking like that. I adjusted my jeans quickly.

"Someone's eager," I smirked at her.

The club bustled in the background, yet somehow the only thing I could hear was the echo of her voice.

"Who says I'm interested in anything you could offer?" she challenged me. A sly smile appeared on my lips. "What makes you think I'm offering?" I countered.

She stared at me intently, letting her stare linger for a long moment before she took a swig of her alcohol. "You're love-sick," she said after swallowing, patting my cheek. My cheeks went hot at the contact.

"Get better soon, lover boy." She snickered, walking off with an extra sway to her hips.

I wanted nothing more than to call her back, pull her into the shadows, and have my way with her. I needed her. No, I craved her. Like a drug.

I bolted up from my seat while I still had eyes on her, quickly following the dangerous woman.

My senses were full of lust, desire, and insatiable need for her.

All I could think about was stripping her bare, claiming her body, tasting her mouth. It was all I ever wanted. I couldn't get her out of my head. All I wanted was her.

I eventually made my way close enough to tug at her arm, dragging her back the opposite direction.

Did I want to hook up in the club bathroom? No, not exactly. But it was either that, or to keep watching her. My need was spilling over.

I wanted to feel her skin. Taste her lips. Feel her hands on me. "Change your mind lover boy?" she giggled, but didn't fight me.

In fact, she seemed pleased with herself. I wasn't going to think twice about this. There was something different about her. Something dangerous. She was bad news, but the way she was looking at me...

"Call me that again and you won't be getting what you want." I snarled, my sharp gaze stabbing at her own, fighting for dominance.

I pulled her through crowds of people, people I couldn't care less for right now. Eventually, we were just outside the bathroom doors.

I shoved it open, bringing her down the tiny hall before we were finally alone. Nobody else was in here. Thank god. Even if it was packed, that still wouldn't stop me from fucking her.

I want to go too far.

Way too far. My need for her was overpowering, my heart racing.

She was the most intoxicating drug I had ever experienced. I turned to face her, pinning her to the wall. Her dark eyes were wide and dilated, showing me her interest. I needed to make this good.

My lips wasted no time in finding hers, working at her as I peeled her promiscuous shirt off of her figure.

I reached around, undoing her bra clasp with one hand, while my other roamed her lower half, popping the button of her shorts and sliding them down her hips.

She bit my lip in response, grinding against me.

God, I loved how much she liked me. She liked that I was in a metal band, and that was it. But that didn't matter right now. I used my thumbs to push her panties down until they pooled at her feet. She kicked them away, and then, I could feast on her.

I swiftly lifted her up, spinning her around to set her down on the sink counter.

I took a step back to admire her as she spread her legs for me. She was perfect. All I wanted was her.

The only way I knew how to handle this was to get my hands on her.

"Make some noise, don't want us getting caught," I instructed her, leaning my face in between her thighs.

She moaned. And I smiled. This would do nicely. I didn't hesitate, diving in for what I really wanted.

My tongue flicked against her clit, and she gasped, clutching onto the counter, moaning loudly.

I didn't even look up to see if anyone was coming. I didn't care. All I cared about was my taste buds dancing on her delicate flower. She gripped the counter tightly, whimpering louder than I expected.

I savored the taste of her, wanting to remember it later.

"Not so confident now are we?" I taunted, nipping at her slightly, earning a twitch.

"Come on, speak up, missy," I glared up at her.

I had my hands on her thighs, and I was working my tongue like a pro. "You have a voice, use it!" I growled.

"Fuck me like you mean it. She snapped back.

I pulled my face from in between her legs, watching her with a look that might as well have been lethal. "You'll take what I give you, groupie."

She had no idea who she was dealing with. I wasn't a man you toyed with. I stood from my crouched position, forcing her to straddle my hips while still sitting propped up on the counter.

I palmed myself, letting her feel just how hard she had made me. I grabbed her hips, flipping her around until she was facing the mirror behind her.

Her ass was on full display for me as she bent over the counter.

I couldn't help but grin. God, she was perfect.

Perfect. A little too perfect. I hurried to pull my jeans down, my boxers following. My dick finally sprang free of its confines, just begging, throbbing with the need to be inside her and her only. I wrapped my arms around her waist, not being gentle as I pushed my cock deep inside her.

"Kirk!" She cried out, her head flinging forward.

"That's right, say it," I grunted, still feeling her velvety walls coating every vein on my cock.

I toyed with her clit as I began thrusting into her, forcing obscene sounds from her lips.

"Say it," I ordered again, my hands tightening around her waist. She let out a harsh scream, making me groan.

I let go, pumping into her harder, deeper, more rough. I wanted to pound into her until she felt me in every bone of her body. She fell forward onto the counter, slamming against it.

Her back arched, her body trembling from my brutal fuck. "Yes, Kirk! Yes! More!" She cried, pushing back against me. I slammed my cock deep into her again. "There you go, there's the girl I knew out there," I snickered.

Her nails dug into my skin, leaving a mark. I knew where those nails went each time she was alone. I knew what they would feel like as they dragged over my sensitive flesh. I let out an angry growl.

Not yet. "Oh, god." Her words broke me. I lost all control, falling onto the counter behind her. I fucked her hard, fast, and unapologetically. Our skin slapped together. Sweat dripped off of both our bodies.

We were a mess. Every surface of this bathroom was a mess. Everything. But I didn't care. All I could focus on was her moaning, crying, and screaming my name. It was music to my ears.

"Are you gonna cum already? You really are a slut huh?" I teased, making sure to graze her g spot a little longer.

I loved feeling her come undone under my touch. I felt powerful. Like nothing else mattered. If only that were true.

"God, Kirk!" She gasped. "Yes. I'm going to cum!"

"Good. You better not hold back with me. I'm tired of your cheap little tricks. Do it. Now." She came undone under me, bucking and shuddering around me. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Her words cut through me. I didn't think it was possible, but I got even harder.

I pumped faster, harder, letting the power of her muscular walls send me spiraling. "Yessss!" She screamed, wrenching my heart out.

I was seconds away from release. "On your knees, now!" I hurried her, pulling out and stroking myself.

She immediately spun around, her knees hurting the floor as her mouth fell open.

I set the tip of my length on her tongue allowing myself to finally cum.

I erupted, spilling my seed down her throat.

"Swallow it, You fucking slut." I barked out. The words barely left my lips before she was complying. She swallowed everything I gave her, and then some.

"Good girl," I cooed, grinning down at the helpless girl. Her snarky facade had been lifted, at least for now.

"Such a good little thing," I shook my head with a scoff, watching her swallow the last of me.

I admired her smeared beauty. Her makeup just slightly smudged, her hair rustled from the sex.

And her eyes, evil. I knew what I was getting into doing this.

She licked my sensitive tip a few times before standing up to meet my gaze.

She looked like she could eat me alive, stalk, haunt, possess me.

I'd be her victim. It didn't matter.

72 notes · View notes

thecameronchronicles · 1 year

Text

For A Friend

TW: angst about body "issues". Language. Soft smut. Soft JJ. Praising.

-Pogue Reader x JJ Maybank

-Body Positivity Fic

SUMMARY: Your crush on JJ reaches is finally reciprocated...but it takes a bit of convincing to believe it is reality.

WORD COUNT: 3500

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

For a Friend

It was everything about him. His charisma. His passion. His loyalty. Even his stubbornness and hot-headed reactions for protecting those he cared for. And yet it was all you were to him. Even though you longed for him to look at you the way he had to Kiara. Finding an excuse to touch you or make you laugh. And maybe just once, look at you with the same lust that you saw cast in any random touron he hadn't been accepted or even rejected by.

And tonight...You would.

"Okay. I've got everything." He explained, taking the open space in the log beside you as the fire remained ablaze.

"I'm okay..." You confessed, your mind counting up the calories to the snack offered as he glared.

"I can't be friends with you anymore if you don't make a s'more right this second." He pushed the items towards you as you couldn't deny the tradition. Every pogue bonfire since you could remember had only truly begun when the marshmallows were melted well into the chocolate and taken against one's lips. But much like your hesitance, many things were off about tonight. Including the absence of the other pogues. Yet, you favored this time alone with JJ. No matter how you could get it. Even if it would only ever remain platonic.

"That's my girl." His simplistic comment made your heart swell as you shied down to your sweet.

"Cheers." He teased before you cocked your jaw in nervousness. After only a moment, you were summoned from your fantasy lengthening this moment as he pulled this vision to reality.

"You've got uh...here..." Using his thumb, he pulled the chocolate from your bottom lip and took it in his smirk, unaware or unphased by how intimate this moment had been as well as his affect on you.

"I think yours tastes better than mine..." He suddenly took a bite of yours from the other side, making you chuckle at his method of consumption.

"Definitely...So much better..." He explained with a mouth full. But suddenly he moved closer. His knee pressing against yours as your eyes lifted from beneath your lashes.

"Do you want a drink?"

"No, I'm okay..." As he reached to the cooler, you couldn't help but look at the direction of The Chateau. It was rare for there to be darkness and silence within the small space, but it was how it existed now.

"Where is everyone?" You turned to face him, his hand suddenly on your cheek as his lips to yours had surprised you enough to make you still. You hadn't retracted or responded in anything else but silence.

"I'm sorry...I've just always really wanted to do that."

"What?" The disgust on your face surprised him. Nervously, he ran his hand through his hair.

"I didn't know if you...if we...Being Kiara's friend I didn't want to make it weird but...I had to know..." He kicked the dirt.

"And now I do...so...now I need more than a drink..." He pulled a rolled blunt from his pocket as you quickly searched for a fix for the fleeting moment.

This was what you'd wanted for years. Since Kiara has introduced you to him at the summer bonfire half a decade ago. When he spent the night talking about music and surfing and you fell in love with how he saw the world, or better yet, how he made his own within it.

"I was..." Your words were quick as they were as ceased by your own ambition.

"Why?"

"Why?" His eyes narrowed.

"Why me?"

"Why...why not you? You're passionate, caring, warm..." He paused. "Beautiful..."

"You said it last..."

"What?"

"Nothing...I'm just gonna go home..."

"What did I say?" He was on his feet as you were on yours. The way he spoke your name having rooted you into the estate that has become your second home.

"It's stupid..."

"I rarely see you upset, so clearly it's not...what is it?"

"I'm just gonna go..." But as you tried, he blocked your exit. Although you could have easily maneuvered around him, you didn't want to. A larger part of you wanted him to know.

"I've watched you with Tourons and Kie...you always say that they're hot and...and you said it last..." His eyes narrowed.

"See I told you, it's stupid..."

"No...I just...I'm confused...I'm trying to understand."

"So am I..." To this, he softened in hearing the panic of fear behind your breath.

"What's wrong with wanting to make you feel beautiful?" He questioned while pulling a hair behind your ear. But this romantic gesture was rejected as you took a step back.

"Why now? Is it because you're bored? Because I'm...I'm here?" Tears brimmed in your eyes as you were well aware you risked being left behind in his frustration. But the only thing you wanted more than to be with JJ was to be with him when he meant it. Not for a night. Not for a moment.

"You think I wanted to kiss you because I was drunk? Or...desperate?"

"You've never...until tonight...I just want to understand..."

"Because I couldn't take it anymore! That goddamn rule about no pogues macking and yet everyone has...And the one girl I wanted to..."

"Was Kie..."

"Why can't you understand that it was you."

"Because it's never me, JJ. I'm not the girl guys look to stand next to them rush and post photos of online okay? I know that. That's fine. But if this is some joke or curiosity-"

He set both hands on your cheeks.

"The only thing I'm curious about was your reaction because I wasn't sure how you felt about me. We've been friends for a long time and you're right, I've been with a lot of girls...but I want it to mean something with you..."

You saw the truth behind his eyes. In the same moments he spoke of his father or the other pogues, you found him like this now. Only his focus was on you.

"But it's you. My focus. My interest. Whatever other interesting word Pope would come up with...It's you."

"Then can you try it again?" He nodded. A soft kiss pulled you against him. His hands were gentle to your cheeks, brushing away the tears as evidence of your former pain as he walked you towards the steps of The Chateau. You chuckled on the missteps before you were successfully inside.

"Would you let me make you feel beautiful?"

You could only answer with a nod. You'd expected him to be direct and vulgar, you, nervous to chuckle, but found only excitement to replace this as he led you to the back bedroom.

"Wait...Can you go back outside?"

"You want me to...okay..."

"Just for a second..." You nodded before waiting on the steps.

"Shit!" He cursed as he tripped moving in shock steps from the kitchen to the hallway. Cabinets and cupboards slamming behind his wake until only silence remained. The sudden presence of hands over your eyes returned him to you.

"Okay...Step up..." He guided before leading you to the bedroom once again. But this time, as the door opened, you found it illuminated with candles. In true JJ fashion, he used turned over beer cans as holders for the tealights, but it made his effort that much more beautiful.

"JJ..."

"I want you to be comfortable and-" You turned to him.

"I'm not as experienced as what you're used to..." You interrupted him in nervousness as he nodded.

"That's one of the more selfish reasons I like you..." He moved closer, a finger below your chin as he brought you to his lips.

"All the things I get to teach you..." Your cheeks flushed and your thighs tightened at his words before he interlaced your fingers.

"Do you know the reason I said beautiful last?" He asked as he pulled the sweater from your arms as he stood behind you, kissing your shoulders as you shook your head in rejection.

"Because...I saw you. Passionate. Caring. Smart. Maybe even more than Pope." You chuckled. "Creative. Stubborn. All of it made you beautiful. Because I've gotten to know you. Those other comments, those other girls...that's all I knew were their looks..." You looked away for a moment as he collected you back to face him.

"But sweetheart, I noticed that too...Your eyes...your smile..." He kissed your lips softly. "And if I have to even begin to describe your curves...I'm gonna need to see 'em..." He began to pull at your tank top as you paused.

"I want you to know how beautiful you are...even if it takes all night..." He kissed you again, making you forget all of the reservations that had consumed you until now.

"Lay down for me..." You surrendered to him. Even if the smallest of voices remained to contradict your growing confidence.

"If there's anything you don't want, just stop me..." He pulled his hair from over his torso as your eyes glue to his muscles. He was bronzed and rigid. A dream in every way. And you basked in knowing you got to witness it.

"But you better tell me now...because I don't think I'll be able to stop once I know how you feel...God, I've thought about it so long..." He swallowed hard as his fingers traced your thighs.

"Can I...kiss you?" You nodded as he lowered over you. Your body tensed in the anticipation. But instead, he used the kiss of his breath along your skin. Beginning at your mouth, he casted a smirked exhale down your jaw and at your chest before lifting up your shirt. Your fingers quickly wrapped around his wrists.

"I want to see all of you. You're so beautiful...please let me, sweetheart..." You hesitated before closing your eyes as he helped you out of your shirt. But once he noticed your distant glance, he brought you back to face him.

"Look at me..." He was sweet, soft kisses continuing down your stomach.

"Can I see all of you?" He inquired as he teased the cup of your bra around the entire perimeter before you slowly nodded. Lifting up to your elbows, he corrected the attempt you'd made to undress.

"I'll do it..." He explained as you nodded. He was effortless before exposing your breasts. He scoffed.

"Shit..." He took one within his hand before focusing on you.

"I just want to make you feel good for me..." Your lips parted as he began to roll your nipple between his fingers. A new fire developed between your thighs as your gasp informed him of your favorable reaction.

"Does that feel good?"

You nodded.

"I'm gonna do both..." You bit your bottom lip as he had done just that. Both breasts given equal attention. But he needed more, quickly, as you began to motion beneath him. And as you relished in his touch, his mouth surprised your skin with his wrap.

"JJ-"

"Mmm..." He moaned, repeating this affection to both sensitive mounds.

"I asked earlier if I could kiss you...I didn't get to make it clear where..." He kissed down your stomach again. The insecurity you once had to the vulnerability was now replaced with the confidence he left behind.

"Nobody's ever-" You confessed as he rose from between your thighs.

"Oh sweetheart...I love knowing I get to be the first..." He prepared you for him. Removing your panties, you swallowed hard to now be completely bare for him. Sending your nervousness, he stood between your legs. Undressing. Completely.

"Now it's fair." He smirked as your eyes adored his physique. Every perfect inch that you were now able to appreciate without hiding your interest from afar.

"Where was I?" He asked himself as he positioned both your legs over his shoulders.

"Nobody's here...so be as loud as you want..."

"I..I don't want to annoy you.." He scoffed.

"It tells me I'm doing a good job...it's nothing to be embarrassed about... especially with me." He kissed down your thighs in slow succession to savor how you trembled beneath him. As he inches closer and closer to your sex, he smirked as you shifted in pure unbridled uncertainty yet trust.

"If anything hurts, tell me..." You nodded. He began with a teasing kiss to your clit as you smirked. But this fell to pleasure as he took that sensitive bundle of nerves between his teeth, sucking you into his tongue. When he watched how your fingers fisted the sheets in approval, he began to flick his tongue in the hold made with his new clench until only that suction remained.

He worked himself against you as you allowed the breathless moans to validate his endeavors. But he craved more. He needed more. So he led your hand to his hair. You took this instruction and began to take hold of his locks instead as he nodded.

"JJ..." He withdrew to the sound of his name.

"I want you to try to do something for me..."

You waited anxiously for his request. At first, your mind became plagued with illicit positions and actions. All things you'd be willing to try, but need guidance for. But instead, he would surprise you with his selfless submission.

'I want you to come on my face...Do you think you can do that for me?" You hesitated.

"I don't care how long it takes...you taste..." He licked his lips, "I could do this all night...I just want to make you come...to make you feel beautiful...to make you feel good..." You nodded softly.

"Then take your time, princess." He moved between your legs again. Only now, he was a man on a mission. Kindness now secondary, he dove into your lower lips.

"Please...let me hear you.." He breathed into you as your body betrayed any attempt to remain silent.

"Mmm..." He moaned between your legs as your eyes witnessed his motions. He was ravaging your most intimate of nerves and you struggled to do anything but reserve your tremors. When he sensed this, he pulled a hand to your breast until the kneading left you shameless.

"JJ...I'm..."

He only nodded before rising just high enough to insert one finger into you. The surprise made you gasp and a quick lift of his eyes validated that this was from pleasure. But with the second came the arch of your back as the pressure along with the suction became too much.

"JJ!" Your body rushed against him in ecstasy as he held you down with an arm across your waist.

"I thought you were beautiful before...something special about when you come for me..." He licked his lips, kissing your thigh in his exit as he stood between your legs.

"I don't want to sound selfish, sweetheart...but tasting you and heading you moan like that...Any change you can take a bit more?"

You nodded quickly. "Please...." He smirked wide enough to deepen his dimples.

"Good...I'll start slow..." He aligned himself with your sex before pausing. Tearing through the drawer, he breathed a sigh of victory to the lone condom in wait for him. Even though your thoughts casted to the others he'd used before you, his voice returned you to this moment exclusively with him.

"Fuck..." He exhaled once he'd set himself inside of you.

"Is it-" you nodded, clenching around him in the foreign fulfillment you'd been denied until now.

"If it's too much..."

"Please...don't stop..." You pleaded as he began in soft motions. These eased thrusts began to grow in desperation as he brought you deeper against him.

A blur of skin became of the two of you as you shifted the sheets beneath you. Perspiration made the glide easier as he built to an ungodly pace into you. His moans vibrated at the gluttonous suck made at your breast as his hands were feverish for any skin he could adorn.

"Shit!" He cursed behind his building release. "How do you feel so good?! Goddamnit!" He chortled as you rolled your hips as he held them down with his own.

"Unless you want me to come right now you need to sit still..."

"I want you to..."

"Yeah?" His hand came softly to your cheek once pressing the softest peck to your lips.

"Can you say it for me?"

"Co-come for me, JJ...please..." He kissed you again, this time with the tease of his tongue at your bottom lip, before he returned to his focus. But in the process of coming back to that curvature of pleasure, a second release began within you. Your skin chilled. Your abdomen tightened. That echo of what was about to come has been broadcast in your expression.

"Come with me...please, sweetheart...I know you can do it..." You nodded, feeling him favor your motions against this one. Every wave of your hips met graciously with his own until the pleas silenced to sharp inhales and a final utterance of your name from his lips.

"Fuck!" He validated as you smirked. Kissing you one final time, he collapsed beside you.

"Come here..." He set you at his chest.

"Why haven't we done that sooner?" He asked as you cradled tighter into him. With a wide smirk, you shrugged.

"Get some rest, sweetheart. I'm making you the best waffle from the toaster in the morning. Maybe two." You smirked as he kissed your head.

But somewhere in the night as bliss had been a means to stay asleep as long as you had, you heard familiar voices pull you to your soles. Using rj sheets as you were left naked, you heard Kiara, your best friend, speak to JJ.

"How was it?"

"I'm not telling you any details...If you wanted to know, you find out for yourself...actually..." You could hear Kiara hit him as he fell off kilter.

"Did it work?" You stilled.

"Come on JJ, I don't need details. I just wanted to give her a bit of a confidence boost...so..."

Your heart caved into itself.

"Was it bad?"

"It shouldn't have happened, not like that-" You didn't care to wait for another word. Instead, you dressed in whatever clothes you could find behind your tears. Stealing your keys from the floor as they'd fallen during the undressing, you barreled passed them as both realized you were awake.

"Shit..." Kiara uttered as JJ chased after you.

"At least now I know why...a pity fuck?! That's even worse!"

"No!"

"So Kiara didn't ask you to do it? And you'll just do anything for her, right?"

"It's...fuck, there's more than that, okay-"

"No there isn't! You used the feelings I had for you because you knew you'd...you'd get laid...and I believed it was more…'

"I meant it. The way I went about it was wrong, I admit it-' you tried to leave again but he took hold of your hand.

"But I don't regret it. I HAVE wanted to do that for a long time. And it wasn't until Kie told me that I knew you liked me for sure. But I didn't know...I have never been more nervous for anything!"

"Because you didn't want Kie mad at you?"

"Because I didn't want to lose you! But I couldn't stand being around you for another second without knowing! It just happened to be the same time. Two birds with one stone. And yes, I used it as an excuse to know. But now I do and you can't deny it now!" He took your face between his hands.

"Not when my sheets smell like you and I know exactly how you sound when you come. Not that I know to bend my fingers just right and rub slowly to make your toes curl. But more than that...how you talk in your sleep. How you smirk after you have sex....how your heart feels against mine when you're at peace."

Your eye flashed to Kiara as she emerged with worried eyes.

"How can I believe you?"

"If you think I only did it to please her? I'll take you back in there right now and make sure she can hear it this time. Maybe record it. Maybe broadcast it-'

"JJ-"

"Whatever it takes to prove it. This wasn't a one time thing. It was a risk. And I'm scared as hell that if you leave...you can't leave! I...I love you..." Your eyes returned to him.

"No games. No lies. No fucking ulterior motives. The truth. I'm risking it all and-" You silenced him with a kiss. A tender passion that ended the eventful night on the highest and sweetest note as you were wrapped in the arms of the man you loved.

"I love you too..." You confessed as he smirked.

"Good. I still intend to make her hear you next time, though..." He winked as you blushed, feeling as if no moment could ever be greater than this. Unaware how he was just getting started.

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

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#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jjsmut #jj maybank x reader #jjmaybank #jj maybank fanfiction #outerbanks #outerbanks smut #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks smut #obx smut #obxfanfiction #obx #obx fanfiction #rudy pankow #body posititivity

573 notes · View notes

guacamoleroll · 9 months

Text

𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙 「𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔪𝔞」 ༉‧₊˚

from @honeycombflowers ⇢ "Hey, I loved your Sigma relationship headcanons!! Can I ask for more headcanons with him please. I was thinking some period comfort headcanons with an s/o that has really rough period cramps. I'm currently going through mine right now and want something to feed my silly fantasies lol. Thank you have a good day."

content. f!reader. menstruation cycles, cramping, blood, staining clothes. not proofread.

author's note. i'm so glad you enjoyed the last sigma headcanons! here are some delightful comfort headcanons (and a short story snippet) with your man (make sure to take care of yourself — drink plenty of water and rest!)

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

"Mmm, what time is it?" you yawned, stretching your limbs to greet the day with a hazy expression. You had woken up later than usual, something you would have to thank Sigma for allowing, though he seemed to already be working. That wasn’t surprising—the man was a workaholic; it would take something colossal to reroute his routine.

You caressed the soft fabric underneath your body, internally praising your absent lover for purchasing 1,000-thread count sheets, before pausing once you felt something wet brush the side of your hand. It took a moment to register the sensation, your mind immediately attempting to rationalize it, coming to a terrible conclusion. You lifted the covers and peered down in dread.

You had started your period.

With a groan, you dragged yourself from the warm shelter of the blankets, wincing at the sharp pain that accompanied your footfalls on the carpeted floor. It took an obnoxious amount of energy to haul yourself to the closet, rummaging through items that were supposed to be sorted days ago to find another sheet. It had been lucky that the blankets weren’t affected by the blood, but the hassle of changing the sheets didn’t put you in the most thankful of moods.

Then, you waddled into the bathroom despite the temptation to crawl back to bed and just be. You cringed as you stared into the mirror, pulling at the tresses of greasy hair and prodding at the discoloration of baggy eyes — your body becoming a live caricature of your pain.

Everything sucked.

The only relief had been the spring of warm water that trailed down your tired limbs, encompassing your body in a complementary mist that cleared your throat and relaxed your muscles. If you didn’t have any self-control, you would’ve remained inside that shower for the rest of the day, wasting the casino’s finite water supply. The sanctuary it provided allowed a moment’s reprieve to feel like yourself again.

That first step onto the cool tile floor created the worst shock, an enormous cramp striking your abdomen. You were forced to brace yourself against the counter, counting each breath. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. One after the other until the cramp ceased its torment. You knew then that you weren’t doing anything productive today. Even if you wanted to, your mind was so clouded with pain that the memory of any obligations was cleared entirely from it.

You bundled the stained sheet and clothes underneath your arm, hoisting them inside your washer and watching as they spun around over and over again—that was until you were interrupted by another cramp. With a grimace, you lumbered over to an ottoman in the bedroom, shuffling around until your hands reached something soft—a microwavable plushie made for this specific occasion. You watched it with anticipation as it circled around inside the microwave before snatching it out, cooing at the warm sensation against your palms.

You succumbed to the enticement of the living room’s plush sofa, the will to walk to your bedroom sucked out of you as your knees met the couch cushions. Soon, the heat of the plushie and the support of a throw blanket created a cocoon of comfort, beguiling you into a state of unaching slumber.

In another room, Sigma had perched himself onto a chair, tapping his heeled shoes with the beat of the seconds as he moped across from an empty chair. You had both planned to eat lunch together, which was a rare allayment from the tumultuous duties of his day. However, you hadn’t shown up despite the enthusiasm you had presented the day earlier. His brow furrowed as he stared at the door, shifting his gaze to the clock hanging above it.

You were already twenty minutes late.

He waved to a nearby member of staff, pointing towards the now cold food. "Package these meals and have them sent to my suite."

"Yes, sir."

The only sound he could hear was the fall of his own feet thumping onto intricately carpeted floors, the noise echoing into the deepest depths of the hallway as he strode across the building to reach your shared suite. He couldn’t help but be curious, and a bit despondently confused, about your absence for the scheduled lunch date. So without a knock, he entered the suite, scanning the jointed living room and kitchen for your face.

He froze as he was about to walk into the bedroom, his ears picking up a series of pained groans mumbled from the couch. His footsteps softened, creeping like a curious cat to gander at the lumped form on the sofa. And that was where he found you, crumpled into a fetal position with the blanket pulled taut around you, face shriveled in pain. He leaned over, brushing the sweat-slicked baby hairs away from your face with a gentle hand, humming as he analyzed your unconscious demeanor. He didn’t think you were sick, especially since you seemed to be okay when you went to bed. With that thought, his gaze traveled lower, and that was when he realized the root issue.

So, with a newfound conviction and determination, he knelt on the floor, tightening the blanket around your shoulders. You stirred at the foreign sensation, cracking your eyes to find the blurred image of your lover.

"Si-igma?"

"Shh, it’s okay, love," he cooed, stroking your cheek with his thumb before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss against your forehead. It crinkled with your furrowed brow, and your expression shifted into a confused pout that he found incredibly endearing as you scanned his face for something. A reminder resurfaced in your brain, causing you to shoot up from your horizontal position and toss the blanket off.

"Shit! I’m so sorry! I completely forgot—"

"No, no," he interrupted, bracing his hands onto your shoulders to lay you back down. "It’s okay. How are you feeling?"

You stared at him for a moment, then grimaced. "Like shit."

Sigma will become extremely accommodating to you—not that he wasn’t already—and turn his behavior up to the umpth-degree. He will ensure that you have access to pain medication before anything else, but he will equally provide for anything you need or want. Water? Absolutely. You need your fluids. Food? No problem. He’ll have the casino staff whip up anything you want.

Speaking of the casino, this is a rare occasion where he takes personal time off of work—because as much as he doesn’t like being away for too long, he hates the idea of you being alone and in pain more. This is your prime moment to spend some quality time together, so take it!

You will receive some of the best cuddles in this state, with his hands either near your abdomen or back to massage the muscles and relieve your aches. This is one of the few times he isn’t that flustered by affectionate gestures; he is too focused on your comfort.

At the beginning of your relationship, he will not have the slightest idea about how to relieve your pains or any details about the biological process. So it is up to you to explain the cycle to him, to which he would be both mortified and sympathetic.

In turn, he becomes both overly cautious and overprotective of your body. If you even attempt to grab something for yourself, he’ll force you back down and retrieve it for you instead. He doesn’t like the idea of you straining yourself—even if it doesn’t really hurt you to move around—while you’re in pain, so he becomes incredibly doting.

He also researches different assortments of stretches, home remedies, and meals to ease your cramps; however, he will ask you about them before implicating them into your routine.

If you’re embarrassed by any stains, don’t be. Sigma will provide countless replacements for anything stained beyond repair, and he understands none of it is your fault. You can’t always predict when you’ll start your period, but that’s okay.

He is also very understanding if you are in a bad mood because he knows that, logically, he would be the same if he were in your position. So, he is quick to de-escalate a situation if your temper becomes strained. And if you start feeling gross or insecure about your body, he is quick to shut down those negative thoughts. He loves your body, and he thinks you should, too. It’s the body of someone so ethereal to him, after all.

He is overall an absolute sweetheart whose only goal is to make you feel better.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @sillyspookycat

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#starring: sigma .ೃ࿐#f!reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #sigma bsd #sigma x reader #from: @honeycombflowers .ᐟ

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frodo-with-glasses · 7 months

Text

More Reading Thoughts: The Prologue

I will never not love Tolkien’s framing device of “my fantasy epic is 100% a translation of an ancient historical book like Beowulf, it’s totally real, you guys, definitely”

“[Bullroarer Took] was surpassed in all Hobbit records only by two famous characters of old; but that curious master is dealt with in this book” is an incredibly intriguing line to me. You’d think it refers to Frodo and Sam, because of what they did to destroy the Ring—but the rest of the hobbits didn’t really care all that much about that. They saw Sam as just another mayor (if a very tenured one) and Frodo as a strange recluse. I think this line refers to Captains Meriadoc and Peregrin, actually, for their courage and leadership during the Battle of Bywater.

“To the last battle at Fornost with the Witch-lord of Angmar they sent some bowmen to the aid of the king, or so they maintained, though no tales of Men record it.” This cracks me up. First of all, the fact that hobbits claim to have sent some aid to the King’s war, but either they’re lying or mistaken or they’re literally so small and unremarkable that everyone completely forgot they were there. Secondly, this is the first and not the last time hobbits are gonna be a pain in the Witch King’s butt

“They were, in fact, sheltered, but they had ceased to remember it” is a line that goes so hard bruh

Today’s vocabulary word is “ramify, v: form branches or offshoots; spread or branch out; grow and develop in complexity or range.” So “large and ramifying tunnels”, in this case, paints the picture of the hobbit holes sprouting rooms and hallways that branch off like tree roots. Fascinating.

The fact that Merry probably has some Stoor blood in him still makes me giggle because they’re the only hobbits that could grow any sort of beard. I still maintain the headcanon that Merry has three (3) hairs on his chin, and he shaves them regularly and is inordinately proud of them.

“Sometimes, as in the case of the Tooks of Great Smials, or the Brandybucks of Brandy Hall, many generations of relatives lived in (comparative) peace together in one ancestral and many-tunnelled mansion.” That little interjection of “comparative” was not mine, it’s right there in the text, and it has me cracking up X-D

Merry’s little personal asides in “Concerning Pipeweed” are absolutely darling—including the shade at Breelanders, the almost wistful descriptions of how much better the plant grows in Gondor, and the fond way he speaks of Gandalf.

Okay so I once claimed that the book never refers to Frodo as Bilbo’s nephew, only as his young kinsman; but here at the end of section three he is actually called “Frodo his favorite ‘nephew’”, with the quotation marks and all. So the idea is already planted in our minds that their relationship is sort of avuncular (throwback to that old vocab word!) before we start the story.

“With [Thorin’s company Bilbo] set out, to his own lasting astonishment…” 🤣🤣🤣

Boy I still need to do Bilbo-With-Glasses someday

Tolkien taking several pages of prologue to explain the inconsistency of the riddle game in The Hobbit will never not be funny

“And no one else in the Shire knew of [the Ring’s] existence, or so he believed.” Except for Merry, who watched him put it on to escape the Sackville-Bagginses that one time.

It’s called the Red Book of Westmarch because it came from Undertowers!! Guarded by the Fairbairns!! ELANOR’S KIDS!! HI HELLO I’M HAVING EMOTIONS

“The original Red Book has not been preserved, but many copies were made, especially of the first volume, for the use of the descendants of Master Samwise.” I AM HAVING ✨EMOTIONS✨

PIPPIN BROUGHT A COPY OF THE RED BOOK TO GONDOR WHEN HE WAS OLD

AND THEN ARAGORN HAD IT COPIED AGAIN

AND THAT’S THE ONE THAT WAS “TRANSLATED” INTO LOTR

HELP

The fact that Merry wrote so many books and Pippin wrote none is honestly so in-character for both of them

And Merry frequently visited Rivendell!! You guys I cry

#chapter review #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing

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honeeslust · 8 months

Text

Suguru Geto | Consumed

🖤 Suguru finds your cursed energy quite delicious and would love nothing more than to consume the raw hate-fueled lust emanating from you.

" I fucking hate you, Geto." my fist balled up so tight my nails dig into the flesh of my palm. Holding his ground all puffy in the chest, he teases. "Ouch," he teases, wearing that annoyingly beautiful grin, dark and intense amber eyes starting to break me." If I could, I would kill you myself.""I fucking hate you, Geto." I curse stepping right up to him. He looms over me silently, his jaw tightens and his amber eyes leer heavily into mine.

"If I could, I would kill you myself."

"Is that right?" he asks brooding in the way that only Geto can, so smug and nonchalant but somehow perfectly fucking charming. It makes me want to punch him in his perfect mouth.

"Yes,"

He glares at me intently and his beautiful mouth spreads into a salacious grin. FUCK!

"You sure?" he asks tilting his head a little while he stands over me. My head spins in confusion as the knowing look in his eye softens the raging fire inside me. I can feel my face flush with heat and my hand twitches at my side. Before I know it, the palm of my hand makes direct contact with the side of his face. Hard! The resounding stinging in my palm loses an overwhelming sense of satisfaction inside of me.

He turns to look back at me, something like desire flashes in his eyes again and the anger inside me slowly dims, morphing into something else entirely. I raise my hand to do it again but he catches my wrist with his opposite hand. He shakes his head bringing his face so close that I can smell the heady scent of his cologne.

"I bet that felt good didn't it?" he asks me drawing his eyes to my quivering lower lip. "Do you want to do it again?" he says tugging my arm to pull me to him until our bodies connect.

I hate him! I hate him so much, but-- right now, I just-- I want to feel him. I swallow hard as if to down the intense urge blooming fast and hot in my gut. But he's holding me close, so close. The connection makes my mind swirl with the thought of the taste of his lips. What would they taste like if--

Geto speaks, tearing my attention from the illicit images dancing through my mind. "Well, do you?"

Too dumbfounded to speak, I can only act. I yank my arm away from his grasp and punch him hard across his jaw. An intense heat creeps up my spine and before I can stop myself, I grab for his shoulders. I drag my hands up to his neck and pull him towards me, pressing my mouth to his. His lips part and I follow suit.

This is wrong. It's so wrong. But fuck, it feels too right to stop. Getos tongue darts into my mouth, circling and dominating my own. A hand slips over my side and grabs my waist to press my lower section to him. My body starts to move with a mind of its own, the urge to undress for him takes over. As if in sync with my thoughts, Geto's hands begin undressing me. He tears my shirt over my head and smiles in approval when he cups my breast with his hands.

He returns to me and his mouth moves down my neck and I melt under his tongue leaving a trail of searing flesh tingling in its wake. I bite down on my lip to keep in the moan that threatens to tell him how good his tongue feels swirling over my skin. He undoes my jeans and he tugs them down. I kick them off and he follows with removing his shirt revealing a rather large scar marring his otherwise perfect chest.

All at once he's on me again. He trails a few kisses over the tops of my breasts and up my neck. "What was that you were saying?" He asks pulling the straps of my bra down my shoulders. A sharp gasp escapes my lips when his mouth forms around my nipple. He flattens his tongue and laps up and down making the tender bit harden.

"I still hate you," I mutter weakly as he pinches my other nipple between his fingers.

He pulls away and my eyes flutter open from the sudden cease of the sensation his glorious tongue was providing. "What was that?" He says in a cocky tone before running his hot tongue over my other breast. "I still fucking hate you." I spat hastily wanting his mouth to keep exploring my body. "Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?" He says standing tall and wrapping his fingers around my neck. His powerful hands easily drag me to him and he kisses my lips once more.

He bends down and cups his hands under my ass and lifts me, my legs instinctively wrap around his hips as he moves. More and more the heat builds up and my impatience makes me kiss him rougher while I knot my fingers tightly around strands of his raven hair. He sets me down on the table and reaches around to my back. He unhooks my bra and slips it off. I yank him closer by his hair and bite down hard on his lip.

The taste of his blood mixes between our tongues and he forces me to lie back on the table. As I lay there panting, his hand slides down over my heaving chest and he stops at my naval making my pussy thrum between my legs. "There's something more to you isn't there?" He asks eyeing my writhing figure from above.

Confused and a little pissed that he's talking. I push up, leaning on my elbows. "What?" I shake my head blinking always the lusty haze that clouded my vision.

Geto reaches down to unzip his pants, nudging my legs open with his legs. "Sshhhh. It'll be better if I just show you.

And just like that, my ire starts ebbing its way back in. My eyes roll in annoyance. "What are talking about ?" "Just wait." He commands as he grasps the back of my knees and jerks my body to him, he reaches down and pulls out his cock.

My eyes flick wider at the sight of him. He presses my legs to open wider and looks into my eyes awaiting my approval.

"You'll have to use your words, little Miss." He says as he stands between my legs confidently stroking his impressive length. My legs start to tremble from the anticipation. Again I find myself chewing my lip to keep the overwhelming delight I find myself lost in from playing on my face. I refuse to let him see the effect he's having on my body. But fuck, I need to feel him. Fine!

"I want you, but still, FUCK YOU." I hiss hoping he doesn't catch the tinge of desperation behind my words.

"Nah..." he leans onto the table with one arm and lines himself up with the dripping oasis between my legs with his free hand. "I'll be the one to fuck you." In perfect timing with his words, he thrust himself inside of me. My hands flew to my mouth to cut off the squeaky whimper that jolted from my chest. He moves himself deeper and wraps his slender fingers around my neck.

"Fuck me right?" He says shuddering from the way my tightness pulls him in.

"Yeah, fu- ahhhh ahh my god."

He fucks himself into me a little faster, hindering my attempts to form the words of hate that I wanted to spew at him. He does it again and again. My body shifts from his movements making my tits bounce under his chest as he fills me up.

"Say it again."

"I....I— fucking ha—uuunngh." His fingers tighten around my throat making it hard to breathe, but only just a little.

"Ohh I fucking hate you." I cry out. He kisses my lips and takes his turn biting down on my lip.

"What else?"

"I wanna fucking kill you. Ahhh. Don't stop Suguru."

Something of a growl emits from low in his chest as my repeated moans of his name fill the air. Something shifts spiking all of my senses at once. Sweat beads on my forehead and my fingers grip the edges of the table in a vice grip. His place between my legs keeps me from closing my thighs together.l

With every deep stroke of him inside me, I can feel my fury turning to lust. The swelling head of his cock teases at my spot over and over again, chipping away at the hate fire that still burns in my chest. I can't take it.

"Geto, I, I can't, it's too much," I beg him for mercy, afraid of what comes after I fall over the edge. I raise my hands to push against his chest.

"You can! If it feels good, it's right. Don't fight it." He grins lustily at me sliding his hands over my own and pulling them above my head as he continues driving himself in and out of me.

I don't want it to feel this good, but it does. As desire takes hold, everything inside me tenses like a coil being wound tight. I let him claim me entirely and a warmth spreads over my body leaving me weak as I speed towards a violent release.

With each pulse of his cock, the line between pleasure and pain blurs. He raises himself, holding my wrists with one hand, the other slinking down between my legs to tease circles over my clit making me groan like a feral animal.

The room spins and I cling to him, writhing as my shattering climax tears through me, but he doesn't stop fucking me. He takes his hand away and I look down to see the familiar cerulean glow emanating from his palms. Startled. I gasp realizing what he's doing. But then there's a pull, heavy in every direction as the glow envelopes my body.

His eyes are wild with satisfaction as he draws the energy spilling forth from my orgasm. He soaks up all that I have and my body jolts as another release tears its way through my body. My vision dims and I can feel his hand move to cup my face. He whispers in my ear. "You can't hate me forever especially if you're going to cum like that." Geto leans in a little closer, stopping just at my ear and grazing it with his lips. "I've never consumed an energy like yours before."

Too dreary to open my eyes again, I shake my head trying to find my words but before I can speak, his lips are on mine kissing me like he trying to bring me back to life. For a moment he pauses, and lazily I open my eyes to meet his and then he whispers to me. "I need more."

#smut writer #smut oneshot #geto smut #spicy headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk season 2 #jjk fanfic #jjk fanart #jujutsu geto #black anime #blackanimesimps #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru smut

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lightlycareless · 3 months

Note

Omg the toji threesome fic is just...wtf there's no other worlds to describe it it's wtf in a good way omg what if she gets pregnant? What if it's not naoya's?! WHAT WILL TOJI FJCKING SAY?! GET RID OF IT?! GIVE BIRTH AND GIVE IT TO ME?! WHAT WILL NAOYA DO?! OMGGGGG PLEASE MAKE A FIC ABOUT THE AFTERMATH AHHHH!!!!! if you want baby no pressure <3

Hello! :>

I don't know if you saw my sneak peak, but I ended up writing a sequel to this heheh I'm so glad you liked it!!

Ngl, I wasn't planning on writing more of it, but then I saw this ask and... you know, I just had to do it to 'em.

Anyways I won't say anything more; except for the warnings: mentions of infidelity. mentions of smut (the word cunt is used) angst I believe. it's sad at the end, or I try to make it sad lol. Mentions of pregnancy. Also, I am no expert relating to pregnancy matters so take it with a grain of salt and lots of plot convenience 😅.

Happy reading!!

sequel to this.

Toji’s not to disclose if you or Naoya came back for a repeat of that night’s succession, though he will admit your pregnancy was not surprising.

It’s not like he could run away from it either, for as soon as news graced the elders’ ears, it’s all the estate spoke of.

From enthusiasm to welcome the next generation of Zen’in sorcerers, to the ever-growing hope of recovering their prized cursed technique, which has been absent for hundreds of years…

Expectations for this child were at an all-time high.

But to you and Naoya, all you could care about was the blessing this baby represented.

A family.

The pinnacle of all their yearnings, the fruits of their never-ending efforts finally appearing as the positive pregnancy test you took one morning after feeling particularly nauseous…

Or Toji’s, perhaps.

Toji initially didn’t think much of the “shocking” announcement. Not even after his behavior that night—they were just heat of the moment things, nothing that he meant nor really cared about, simply said to get a rise out of Naoya; and oh, was his reaction satisfying.

In other words, he really, genuinely, couldn’t care less about what the wimpy heir and his ditzy wife were to face from that point forward.

But when their behavior towards him, the engaging conversations, invitations to drink tea, amongst other activities, drastically ceased, to the point of them turning on their heel and going the opposite way when bumping into him…

It didn’t take long for the pieces to fall into place, and when the puzzle was complete, Toji could only laugh.

It’s like an open secret, albeit solely for those involved.

The baby inside you wasn’t Naoya’s.

It was Toji’s.

And this filled him with morbid fascination no other high had been able to provide.

To know that the baby everyone was praising as the future of the Zen’in, a promising sorcerer, as expected of the heir, was the ultimate irony, the exact anti-thesis of all they once declared of Toji.

He was very tempted to let everyone know.

Proudly announce the truth to the world, screaming to the top of his lungs that that baby isn’t Naoya’s, it’s mine.

The scandal this revelation would bring was nothing short of earth-shattering, and more likely than not, the elders wouldn’t even know where to start from. Although your infidelity could be a good reference.

Followed by the fact that no matter how much they try to get rid of him, he’ll always find a way to haunt them—like a ghost shackled to the estate walls, Toji would always remain in the back of their minds, unsettling them whenever they did as much as breathe.

Although for this to work, he’d have to wait until the child was born, officiated as son of Naoya, before he could do any true damage.

To see the kind of face the Zen’in would make upon finding out the truth… is one that makes his prolonged stay all but worthwhile.

As well as knowing your reaction towards the whole ordeal—if you’ve even been able to sleep knowing well that your life was on the line by carrying such a frightening secret in your womb.

Considering the way you frequently sought him out during those lonely nights where your husband would be away for long periods of time, this probably didn’t perturb you as much. After all, what did you expect after receiving his seed as constantly as you did? That nothing would happen? No consequences to be suffered?

You were many things, but he never thought you as delusional.

Or perhaps, you were hoping for this. To have his child. He’d come to believe so after the tight way your cunt squeezed him.

Well, that would only make him the delusional one.

Either way, he suspects that while your secret might’ve prickled the back of your mind from time to time, it didn’t bother you as much as he hoped—not with the way your staff coddled your every move, how the clan would gift you expensive items to celebrate the future head of the clan, per tradition, or how happy you appeared to be with your growing bump, gently caressing it and beaming while confessing oh how much you longed to finally hold your baby.

It irked him.

To see that even through this deceit, you were still blissful.

It was undeserving. Wrong.

At least to the man who has been sentenced to nothing but pain and disgrace since the moment he was born, that’s how it was.

Because it was impossible for him to grasp the innocence of others—To accept that some were just simply… with better luck. Free to live as they desired, and without having to pay for the prejudice of others.

Toji, now more than ever, felt that he was being used. Plucked from his misery, toyed with, and discarded once dried out of his benefits.

Thus, his motivation to ruin your and Naoya’s happiness became as palpable as ever—hastily making his way towards you once catching you by one of the many gardens, intending to remind you of the power he had, how easily it would be for him to plant the seed of doubt amongst the staff, let it flourish up to the elders, and ruin your and Naoya’s life forever.

Unless your anguished face was to stop him.

It was abrupt, happening in less than a second, yet enough for him to understand it wasn’t because you were upset by some redundant folly, but rather, of pain.

With one of your hands rushing up to your stomach while the other to your back, it was as if the weight of your baby had suddenly become too much to handle; you’d then anxiously looked for a chance to sit down, frowning when realizing the only option was the strenuous engawa in front of you…

Before freezing, face quickly void of any color, when seeing Toji abruptly standing by your side, with mysterious intentions you were not interested in finding out.

“Toji, you— You breathe as you do your best to walk away from him, just for him to keep up with you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Gee, that’s the thanks I get for getting you pregnant?” he sneers. “Never thought you to be as prejudiced as the rest—”

“What—what is wrong with you?!” you condemned, snatching your arm from his grasp. “How dare you?! Don’t you ever say something like ever aga—ah!”

“Y/N.” Toji’s eyes widen when he sees you lean forward, wrapping your arms around your stomach as you hiss and cuss, while tightly closing your eyes in what he recognizes strenuous pain. “What is happening?! Are you—”

No.

Could it be? And so soon?!

”Are you having the baby??”

“What? N—No—!” you whimper, squeezing tears out of the corners of your eyes. “It’s just—it’s just this pain that comes and goes sometimes—I—I need to sit down—”

Toji doesn’t hesitate to help you onto the engawa by firmly, yet gently, holding your arms and lowering you down to the wooden floor. You didn’t plan on accepting his help at first, but when a sharp pain reminds you that you couldn’t really pick and choose in this situation, you end up agreeing.

Once seated, Toji concludes this was much better off in the hands of a staff member, or even a doctor if he could somehow manage to do that, so he quickly stands up and turns towards the hallways—but the moment you see him take as little as a step away from you, your hands fly to grab his sleeve, stopping him on his tracks before looking up to him with the most pitiable look on your face.

“Stay.” You breathe, swallowing. “Please.”

And whether because of your pleading, teary eyes, or because it had been so long since he’d basked in your warm company, Toji obliges, soon taking the spot besides you as your hand now securely gripped his, with such an unprecedented force that has him both amused and concerned by your pain, while offering whatever little comfort he could with his touch.

It’s in these quiet yet tense moments that he finally gets to see the certainty of your situation.

While you expected to happily enjoy your future life as a mother, relish on the compliments of those around you, the praises of your in-laws, and the company and support of your husband…

Reality had been nothing short of deviant from your dreams—starting from the high risk your pregnancy was labeled as…

To the haunting consequences of your past actions.

“Are you sure this is normal?” Toji asks, seeing that your pain was not subsiding. “I think you need help—”

“No shit, Toji!” you gasp, he raises an eyebrow. “I mean—I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize, princess. It’s nothing I’m not used to already.”

“… is that—is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No. Not really.” He snickers, a smile that’s quickly wiped off his mouth when hearing you hiss. “But I’ve seen it work with others, so why not give it a shot?”

“I’m not—I’m not going to do that.” You huffed. “I—I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“But you’d ignore me?”

“If you’re here to scold me, this is not the right time.” You hiss again, feeling a sharp pain attack your lower back, making you press your lips and whine.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do something? Bring you something to drink—or… something?”

“Yes, but—but it’s not like you can help me anyways.” You confess, he frowns.

“What? Why? How hard is it to get something for you to take?” he scoffs.

“They don’t want me to—they say—they say it might hurt the baby.”

Toji blinks.

“And so, what? They’re just going to leave you to suffer?”

You don’t respond.

He sighs. Toji should’ve known better.

“Where does it hurt?”

“My—my back and stomach” you breathe, another sharp bolt of pain on those places precisely, making you hold his hand even tighter, once again, he’s surprised someone like you could even dent his skin. “And no matter what I do—nothing helps! Not even that stupid warm bath, or the massages Junko-san told me to do—”

The desperation for failed solutions after failed solutions is clear in your voice, a consistency that effectively shows your growing frustration at being reminded again and again that not even when carrying the future of the Zen’in, are you respected as a person.

It’s always the needs of others first, the beliefs of the rest—only this time around it was your baby, although through the twisted words of your in-laws.

“I’m so, so tired of feeling exhausted, I just want to—”

“Let me try.” Toji interrupts, offering a solution that initially catches you by surprise, a part of your mind urging you to decline and get away as far as possible, the dangers his closeness could give are far bigger than you’re willing to put up with—

Yet, another part of you is telling you to allow him, if only for a moment, to help you.

To enjoy his company, something you’ve been unjustifiably deprived of.

Something you should’ve had now more than ever due to your pregnancy, but for many painful reasons, you didn’t.

But just because you wanted it, does it mean you should?

…

It wouldn’t be the first time you succumbed to these desires.

Thus, the decision is made when freeing his hand and gesturing to him to proceed with a nod. Toji then places his hands over your shoulders, firmly pressing his fingertips against them before beginning to ease the tensions and stresses away from your body through circular motions.

Had you known of Toji’s talent, you would’ve asked for massages more than anything else from him—for the way he carefully worked over your knots, starting from your neck and shoulders, down to your spine and to your lower back… it was simply amazing.

And for a moment, it’s like you’ve forgotten the strained relationship you had with him in favor of wondering where he even learned to do something like that.

“Oh my god—” you sigh, shoulders relaxing as Toji continues to massage you. “This is so much better…”

“Well, know you can always count on me to make you feel better, right?” He teases, your satisfaction dwindles for a moment with a frown. “It’s just a joke.”

“It’s not the time for jokes.” You respond. “but at least my back doesn’t hurt anymore….”

“That’s the reason why you’re so tense— it’s because you can’t take a joke.” Toji adds, as if he were finding out how much he could push it before you snapped. So much for his concern… or perhaps it was his way to lighten up your mood?

“Yeah, how horrible of me—it’s not like I’m carrying a baby.” You chided, and once again, his arrogance is smacked out of him.

After a moment of silence and brief repentance, Toji speaks.

“How did Naoya take it?”

“…I don’t want to talk about that.”

It went bad. If not horrible.

Naoya was excited at first, over the moon to know that he was finally to be a father after all their attempts.

But when doubts began to plague his mind, eventually leading to the DNA test… his absence was the clear indication of his feelings.

However, if his reaction hurt you and your marriage so badly, then why did you keep the—

“I always wanted a family.” You say, succumbing to one of the many questions you rightfully assumed Toji to have. “From the moment I married, no, even before that, I knew that’s what I wanted in life. To have a little girl, or boy, that I could endlessly dote and spoil on… And once I got with Naoya, realizing he too shared my dream, I literally felt it was only a matter of weeks before we’d have our own family.

But, when we began to try, and try, and try… what I once felt just by my fingertips was slowly transforming into an impossible dream.

People say that these things happen unexpectedly, just when you need them the most.

… and I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. Remain hopeful and believe that the gods had other plans for me in the meantime. But… the two of us knew it. There was something wrong, and we didn’t know what—

Or more like we didn’t want to know.

Naoya couldn’t even consider himself as the possible cause. And I… I also didn’t want to believe I was the obstacle between me and my dreams.

And then, you came along.

I guess it’s the weight of our actions that eventually made Naoya… hesitant for the baby.

We always knew that it was yours, it’s just that maybe… maybe we hoped it wasn’t. We so desperately wanted to believe the baby was his, ours, and not fruit of something we perhaps should’ve never done.”

Feeling both confused and slightly angered, Toji scowls.

“I can understand one thing—I was used. Fine, whatever. Nothing new. But the rest? If it was such a big issue your marriage, then why did you keep the baby? Surely Naoya considered getting an aborti—”

“Because I wanted to keep the baby.” You confess. “I was growing so desperate and lonely—to be married and yet be as isolated as I’ve never felt before, what was I supposed to do?! In a house full of people… do you even know how that feels?!”

“Like you wouldn’t imagine.”

Your eyes widen, and soon, a crushing wave of regret inundates your mind.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, Toji sighs. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You’re just stressed.” He concludes. “Pregnancy stuff, I guess.”

“…I want my husband, here, with me.” You quietly admit. “I don’t want him to work anymore, spend days and weeks far away. But instead, he’s out there, angry with me and the baby…”

“He’ll come around.” Toji doesn’t know why he said that, only that he had to. You frown.

“How do you even know that? How do you know he won’t divorce me—or worse, cheat on me?”

“Do you hear yourself?” he scoffs, partially holding back his laughter. “Do you actually believe he’d be capable of cheating on you?”

A woman as special as you?

“Everyone else did at one point.” You remind him, he rolls his eyes. “Well, what else am I supposed to think after his absence?! He doesn’t even love me anymore for all I care!”

“That’s stupid.”

“Maybe for you it is.” You cry, tears begin to pool in your eyes. “It’s just a matter of time before he files for divorce and leaves me for someone else! Someone that can give him children of his own! Oh, I should’ve never allowed—"

“Naoya isn’t going to divorce you because I’ve seen how he treats you.” Toji interrupts, hurt by your blatant disregard of him, and yet, something about seeing you so distressed like this, heartbroken, makes him want to console you even more. “He could’ve divorced you the moment he saw the results, but he didn’t. Have you thought about that?”

“Perhaps he’s waiting for the right moment to humiliate me before his family—”

“Naoya loves you.” Toji says, and the words hurt him more than he anticipated. But… why? “I’ve known the kid since he was born—I’ve seen how he treats the people he doesn’t care about. And you’re nothing like that, not even close. So no, he won’t humiliate you.”

“And what makes you think that?”

Toji goes silent.

He’s acting as if he doesn’t know why he’s out here insisting so much on comforting you. And honestly? It made sense, for just a few hours ago he couldn’t care less any for a woman that played with two men and now had to pay the consequences—

But the truth wasn’t as cryptic as he liked to believe. All that he needed to do was dive a little deeper into his own thoughts and he’d soon find out why, as clear as day, he was fighting so hard to make you feel better.

And it all started the moment he accepted one crucial detail:

You were the mother of his child, his firstborn, and so… it unknowingly evoked a sense of protection towards you, deep underneath the layers of his disbelief and mockery…

Or more like further developed.

Since the first night the two spent together without Naoya, or perhaps even before, there was something brewing inside him, slowly, but surely. The first foundations of the feelings that would only flourish the night he had you alone, completely for himself.

In those moments of solitude, Toji liked to imagine that you were his wife; accompanying him underneath the covers, seeking his embrace, his touch, while telling him of your tedious day and how you so desperately looked forward to seeing him again—

And not Naoya.

The possibility of coming home to a warm bed, with a wife that treated him like an actual person, not a stain in the long history of the clan, contrary to the cold, empty room he has been condemned to since birth… is something he didn’t know he wanted, until you stumbled onto his path.

To be able to seek your figure whenever walking across the estate, hoping to catch you just around the corner, gossiping with your ladies about whatever it is that you liked to talk about with them, before you notice him by the corner of your eyes, lifting your gaze and seeing the lovely way your eyes would brighten at his presence—

A wide smile adorning your face, cheeks quickly turning red as you shyly dismiss your staff in favor of receiving him. Running to him to tightly embrace him, subsequently standing on your tip toes to land a kiss on his lips before murmuring the sweetest welcome home and tending to him.

And eventually… getting to hear your moving cries upon learning you’re expecting a baby. After many weeks of trying, both their efforts are finally met with the most beautiful reward life could give, letting your imagination run wild with all the things you wanted to do as a future mother—and yet, you’d still find a way to reassure him that he’d be a good dad.

That the disgrace of the Zen’in, the wretched man no one deemed respectable, less capable of harboring love, was still capable of being a good father. A caring husband.

…

But this was nothing but a silly desire of his, a response to the horrible things he’s endured.

…Perhaps if things had been different, had he been born as literally anyone else but himself… or maybe even met you under different circumstances, his life would’ve been completely different.

One with you, hopefully.

“Toji!” you suddenly gasp, startling him and concernedly looking at you.

“What is it now?” he frowns.

“The baby.” You say, which does nothing to ease his worries. “It’s—”

“It’s what? What’s happening??”

“The baby is kicking.” You reveal, swiftly taking his hand and placing it over your round stomach and onto the area you feel their kicks to be. “I can’t—I can’t believe it, look!”

“What do you mean they’re—”

Toji’s eyes widen.

A kick.

And another. And another one.

You weren’t lying, the baby was kicking.

And unbeknownst to him, this was their first time doing it too.

“Can you feel that?” you say, and all past worries were now replaced with excitement and overwhelming happiness for this special moment. “The baby is finally kicking!”

“I… can.” He demurs, trying his best to comprehend what was happening just beneath his palm, before noting the peculiarity of your sentence. “What do you mean finally?”

“It’s the first time he does it.” You reveal. “It’s supposed to happen around this time, but I didn’t know when, of course. I guess… now’s the day.”

“That means…”

Naoya didn’t get the privilege of feeling the baby’s first kicks.

No.

Not any baby.

His baby.

And now that this truth settled in his mind, it quickly became the sweetest moment he had ever experienced in his life. Something he wishes to preserve for all eternity…

Just after dealing with the enormous sense of guilt and shame settling in his heart.

For how could he ever consider bestowing the same fate as his to this innocent child, just to get a rise of the family that wronged him? Towards someone whom he hasn’t even met… simply because he couldn’t deal with his own emotions?

Just when did he turn so despicable? Embracing the kind of malice as his clan?

He should be ashamed to even be beside you.

“It’s a boy.” You say, abruptly cutting through his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“The baby—it’s a boy.” You repeat. “We’re having a boy.”

Toji doesn’t know why, nor thought it possible, but the news somehow makes him feel even happier.

“A boy.” He repeats. “A son.”

“We haven’t decided a name yet” you confess. “I was thinking something in honor of Naoya, continue the tradition like him and his father.”

“Why not something for you?” Toji suggests instead; his concern might be disguised in favor of your emotions (and partially, he was) but it was mainly the distaste of having Naoya’s, or technically Noabito’s, name anywhere near him.

But he wasn’t going to tell you that, obviously.

“After the way he’s acting, you deserve that much.”

You press your lips together before lightly chuckling, finding some truth behind his words.

“I guess so… but then, which name?” you ponder, frowning as you go deep into thought, yet nothing seems to arise for the occasion, certainly not when you’ve done nothing but consider names with the same kanji as your husband whenever touching the subject.

Thinking you needed more time to consider, or perhaps needing to admit there was nothing else you wanted but honor your husband, you accept defeat with a sigh.

“I don’t know, Toji. Maybe I should just name him after Nao—”

“Megumi.”

“What?”

“Megumi. Blessing.” Toji explains. “I thought it’d be fitting with what you told me.”

“That’s… very straight forward.” You say after a few seconds of quiet consideration, “Unusual, since it’s mostly used as a girl’s name, and I don’t know if the elders would approve—”

“Look, if it’s that much of a problem you don’t have to use—” Never one to happily accept rejection, Toji quickly feels both embarrassed and frustrated by you, which he does not hesitate to let you know.

Only to be surprised yet again.

“But also, very sweet.” You smile, briefly looking up to him before glancing back to your stomach and onto your hand resting on top of his.

He blinks, perplexed by your sudden admittance—and such, all he can do is stare at you while you keep pouring your heart out.

“Even with the things I had to endure to have him here… he’s still my blessing, and I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

At your declaration, Toji is pushed down onto another turmoil of emotions.

It shouldn’t be that hard to conclude this is something he should isolate himself from.

Remember that he isn’t part of this marriage, no matter if he had permission of the other two involved, or how much he tries to convince himself—Understand that his blood means nothing, both inside and outside the clan, and that’s how it’ll always be.

But when your hand gently squeezes his for a moment, thumbs caressing his knuckles as you let him know your pains are slowly disappearing and how grateful you are for his help—all his worries are quickly discarded, allowing him to once again imagine live out this faux reality a bit longer.

A happiness that comes from the notion of being your husband, simply enjoying a quiet afternoon, the refreshing spring breeze, while sitting by the engawa, in front of your favorite garden, trying to make up for all the time he spent away from you.

Time Toji knew he should’ve spent either way by trying to get close to you, see your growth firsthand, check on you from time to time, assist whenever possible— instead of plotting a stupid plan to ensure your and the baby’s downfall.

He reproached himself for having fallen for such an arrogant trap, and convinced himself this was the way to go.

Yet, he didn’t allow that thought to interfere much with the present. He shouldn’t either way—not with the lovely bumps of his son’s kicking against his hand, almost as if he recognized it was his father finally acknowledging him…

And certainly not with your warmth reminding him of what could’ve been.

A moment he’ll preserve in his memories for the rest of his days, because while relishing in your company, he had already made up his mind.

One that fitted with the idea that all good things must come to an end.

Especially those that are simply not meant to be, less for someone as disgraceful as him.

It hurt him to come to this conclusion. To acknowledge what his mind, and existenceconstantly reminded him about.

But he knew he had to do it.

From that point forward, he’ll do everything in his power to keep away from you.

Toji would no longer watch you from afar, nor ask for your whereabouts, whether directly or indirectly.

He’ll simply limit himself to hearing of your wellbeing, or how your relationship began to flourish yet again, through rumors of the staff, if he was ever around the estate to acknowledge them.

He was right when he said Naoya would come along, you know? He might be wrong in some things, or most, but when it comes to judging other’s character, Toji never misses.

It was nothing but obvious that Naoya loved you very much, after all, if he no longer wanted to know anything from you, you wouldn’t have lasted as long as you did.

Naoya kept you at the estate, fed, warm, tended for, because he loved you—to the point of going against his own clan to provide you with the much-needed assistance you required for your oscillating pains.

With such gestures, it shouldn’t come to him as a surprise that you also loved Naoya very much.

And yet, it hurt him to realize such a thing.

But who was he trying to fool?

At the end, he had always knew he had no place in that marriage. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that the reason you kept returning to him was because you wanted something more from him—it was never the truth to begin with:

Your mind was always in Naoya’s wellbeing, and in his love.

He was ultimately a step towards your goals. Whether for pleasure, or for something deeper, it didn’t matter—they all went to the same target.

So, when he hears from the gossiping staff that you’ve named your child Megumi, he doesn’t get his hope ups anymore.

Instead, Toji simply takes it as what it is: a way to thank him for the blessing he’s given you, honor him one last time, before cutting ties with him forever.

Because the moment anyone catches wind of his relationship to your son… everything will collapse, and that is something he is no longer willing to allow.

Thus, he stays away. Keeps his distance from you and Naoya as both continue to tend for their growing family, giving Megumi things he had only dreamed of getting:

A warm, cozy bed to sleep in, where he’d be able to dream about all kinds of things he’d like to do when the following day arrives.

A roof over his head, guarding him from the cold pours of the rain, or the burning rays of the sun, as he watches the world go by.

Food to fill his stomach, every day, whenever and whatever he wanted, ensuring his healthy growth or an occasional craving.

A set future that would reassure him of any misgivings, permitting him to fail and not worry if he’ll have anyone to back him up, or start from zero.

But most importantly—

Love.

To remind him that no matter what happens, whatever he does or doesn’t do, he’ll always have a family to support him just the way he is.

…

Yeah.

It’s clear to him now.

It had always been better this way.

In other words, Toji disappears from your and Naoya's life to ensure your safety. Woaaah. I hope I was able to convey that kind of sad redemption (?)

Also, I was debating whether to actually name the baby Megumi or not, since it's a whole other character—but then I thought, why not? and thus this happened.

I guess we get to the conclusion that if there's one person that's most deprived (and in need) of love, it would be Toji. We all saw how he got after mamaguro died... so I think him doing an 180 to protect the mother of his child and son is 100% accurate and sad omg. jesus, how different from the Toji I portrayed in the previous oneshot.

Anyways, I hope it was to your liking :3 Thank you for sending in this ask, I really enjoyed writing it!

Take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️

#ask #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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