#idk if it was like a change of heart like. The next day or.... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

valeskafics · 4 months

Text

"Little Wolf" - Night's Watch!Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

a/n: inspired by THIS fanart by @lonelymagpies and of course my beloved @huramuna's night's watch!aemond fic HERE 🩷

Summary: Banished to the Wall by his sister Queen Rhaenyra for the crime of kinslaying, Aemond grows restless. However, things change when you accompany your brother to Castle Black for a visit. You, the beautiful Lady Stark who was betrothed to Aemond before his banishment.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, frightening/scary scene lol, forced proximity, fingering, loss of virginity, p in v sex, idk angst and fluff

Word Count: 4,500 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

Aemond knows he should be grateful to his half sister for sparing his life after the crime he committed. That he should be content to live out the remainder of his days at the Wall. His mother had pleaded for his life, saying that he would never have purposely killed Lucerys. And Rhaenyra took her words to heart. She stripped her younger brother of his titles and his family name, sending him to Castle Black.

He despises the cold, how it seems to seep into the very marrow of his bones. He despises that none of his family bothers keeping in touch with him, save for the monthly raven that arrives from his mother. It has been nearly two years now that he’s been rotting in this wintery wasteland, nothing to do but go on patrols with the Rangers or train in the yard. Training used to bring him joy, not so very long ago, but now, it seems like a curse.

His days pass by in monotony, one blurring into the next. Does anyone remember Aemond One Eye? He knows his beloved mount, Vhagar, does. Until he dies, she will refuse to take another rider. At least someone has shown him some love, some loyalty. He stands upon the ramparts with two of his “sworn brothers”, feeling the chill sink into his fingertips, the exposed parts of his face. But none is worse than the pain in his socket, his sapphire growing uncomfortably cold against his skin. He sighs in annoyance, only to turn back and look curiously as a caravan approaches Castle Black. Before he can learn who it is that has arrived at this desolate place, he is called away by the Lord Commander. He rolls his eyes and briskly walks away, ready to do what is required of him.

After all, is that not what he has always done?

It is not until the next day that he learns who it is that came to Castle Black. When he is training in the yard, and feels someone watching him. He quickly turns, his breath catching in his throat when he makes brief eye contact with you.

Lady Stark.

He has met you twice before. Once as a boy, even before he claimed Vhagar. You seemed so homesick that every day, he brought you a winter rose, giving you a sweet smile and saying that he hoped you would come to enjoy King’s Landing someday.

The second time was when the two of you were a little older, eight and ten to be exact, your betrothal having been finalized by your brother Cregan and by Aemond’s mother. You took a walk in the gardens and, once again, Aemond gave you a winter rose, a soft smile on his face as he told you he looked forward to marrying you. He remembers the way you gazed up at him, the soft kiss you pressed to his cheek as you thanked him, telling him that you truly looked forward to becoming his wife.

That was before he ruined everything. Before he committed the crime most hated by the gods.

Before he became Aemond Kinslayer.

He isn’t surprised by the way you quickly turn from him, the way you try to hide your face. It stings more than he cares to admit, however. You have haunted his every thought, his every dream since he last saw you. Reminiscing about that simple brush of your lips against his cheek has kept him warm many a cold night in this godsforsaken place. Before Aemond knows what he’s doing, he’s following after your receding form, desperate to catch up to you. To hear your voice again.

A smile tugs at his lips when he sees where you have ventured. The archives. You greet the maester, though Aemond cannot hear you from so far away, and the elderly man leads you to a section of the archives that Aemond must admit he has not yet explored. After all, he has the rest of his life to rot here, he doesn’t need to rush his reading. He enters the archives, greeting the maester with a quick bow of his head, before moving toward the hearth, where you lie on your stomach, completely engrossed in your tome. You look almost as you did as a child, when the two of you would go off to the library of the Red Keep and devour every book you could get your hands on. Aemond cannot help the way his gaze travels along the curve of your backside, his throat drying up slightly. Your lips form the words you read, your finger moving across the page as you are completely engrossed by whatever it is.

Aemond approaches carefully, hoping not to startle, though the sound of his boots echoing loudly against the stone floor make that quite impossible. You let out a yelp of surprise when you notice him, standing to your feet, clutching your book to your chest as you try to steady your breathing.

“What are you doing, skulking about here?” You demand.

It is the first time Aemond has heard the voice of a woman since he came to this cursed place. The first time he’s been so close to one. And not just any woman, but you. His Lady Stark. His little wolf.

“I just wanted to speak to you,” he admits quietly, “It has been quite a while.”

You nod in agreement, “It has. They…” You trail off before meeting his gaze once more, “They betrothed me to Jacaerys. One year after you were sent here.”

Aemond feels his heart seize in his chest. The idea of another man with you… Not just any man, but Jace… It is too much to bear. He can feel that green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head as he tries to conceal the bitterness from his voice.

“What do you think of him?”

“He is kind. And handsome. But I do not wish to marry him.” You remain silent for a long moment, the two of you just gazing at each other before you ask, “Do you remember how I used to tell you of my dreams? Some of the past, some of the future?”

“Indeed I do,” Aemond replies softly, “I remember every conversation we ever had. How could I ever forget the day my betrothed admitted to me that she has the Sight? The day I realized she trusted me with her secret?”

He recalls that day vividly, but he wonders why you speak of it now. You bite down on your bottom lip, seeming as though you are struggling with whether or not to speak. Hoping to alleviate your stress, Aemond rests a hand on your shoulder and gives you a small nod, urging you on. But, he’s taken by surprise when, instead of speaking, you remove a pendant from your neck, taking his hand placing the small necklace in it.

“I carved this for you when we were still betrothed. It felt wrong to give it to Jacaerys. It was always meant to be yours. I suspect I will not be here when you return from your patrol, so I wanted to tell you that I miss you. Very much.”

Aemond looks between the pendant and you, shocked at the gift, his heart touched, warmed in a way he hasn’t felt in so very long. You were always a strange girl, something he has long admired about you. The way you see the world, the way you interact with others, it is all so different from the way he does. A perfect complement to each other, he believes.

He watches you walk away, his breath hitching when you glance back over your shoulder, for a brief moment. It tells him that you long for him as he has longed for you all this time.

Sure enough, when he returns from his patrol two nights later, he learns that you have snuck out of Castle Black, sometime in the dead of night, your brother a frantic mess as he pleads with the Lord Commander to send out a search party. However, there are not enough men at present, and it will have to wait until the following morning. Cregan goes to Aemond, beseeching the man who was meant to be his good brother.

“I know you care for her,” Cregan says, meeting Aemond’s gaze, “She is my only family. If anything happened to her, I would never be able to live with myself.”

Aemond’s jaw is set with determination as he assures your brother, “I will not rest until I find her, Lord Stark. You have my word.”

It is nearly three hours before he finds you. His face feels near frozen from the cold, but what spurs him on is knowing you must be worse off, alone and afraid in the vast expanse of the true North. You are about to enter a deeper part of the forest when he catches up to you.

“What are you doing out here?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” you tell him, urging your mare on.

Aemond grows irritated at your rebellious nature, though still he finds it enticing. You have always toed the line between infuriating and intoxicating and this is no difference. He keeps pace on his horse beside you.

“Try me. I might understand more than you think.”

You glance at him, taking a deep breath before revealing, “I had a dream. That something dangerous lurks in this forest. I do not know if it was of the future or of the past. If it was of the past, there is nothing to worry about. But if it was of the future…” You trail off cryptically before shaking your head, “I do not wish to frighten you.”

“I am a grown man, little wolf,” he says, recalling the nickname he used to have for you with much fondness, “I can handle whatever it is you tell me. What was your dream?”

The only sound is that of the bugs chittering in the night and the wind howling around you for a few long moments before you finally break the silence and speak.

“A creature. Skin pale as snow. Brilliant blue eyes. Its fingers wrapped around my throat, choking the very life from me.”

“A White Walker,” Aemond whispers in realization, “That is why you went to the archives. You were reading about the Others.”

“It is my duty as a Stark to find out if they are back. The realm must be warned.”

“If that is true, you cannot go alone,” Aemond protests, “We need to tell the Lord Commander.”

“No, I must bring him proof. No one will believe me if I do not. They will think these the ramblings of a madwoman.”

“You saw it in a dream, how in the Seven Hells do you intend to bring him proof?”

“By finding the White Walker.”

Aemond is struck silent by your answer. You are the boldest woman - no, person - he has ever met. And you are driving him utterly mad. He stares at you for a long moment, the wind whipping his hair, mussing it from its usual pristine state.

“You will die alone in the forest if you go out there. I will not allow it.”

You scoff, declaring boldly, “You are no longer my betrothed. You cannot presume to command me.”

Your boldness, your defiance - they only serve to fan the flames of desire burning within him. He is angry at you, for certain, despising the fact that you seem to have no regard for your own safety. But you are also, without a doubt, courageous beyond measure.

“I may not command you, but I cannot sit idly by and let you die.”

You roll your eyes, climbing off your mare and tying it to a tree, “We camp here. I will gather wood. You set up the tent.”

He would say he is annoyed by you ordering him about, but your bossiness and assertive nature has a strange appeal to him. He enjoys the idea of you telling him what to do, mind wandering to a world where you are his lady wife, bustling about your keep, bossing him around. So, he agrees to your demands, and begins setting up the tent.

When you return, the exasperated tone to your voice as you question why there is only one tent only adds to your appeal. He grinds to himself, trying to hide it as he continues to work, only speaking up when he hears you grumble that you will sleep outside if this is the way it’s going to be.

“I will not allow you to sleep outside unattended. You will sleep inside the tent with me.”

You glower at him, shaking your head, “Let’s just build a fire and eat. I caught us a rabbit.” He arches a brow, impressed at your resourcefulness, and moves over to try and light the fire, though he fails miserably, prompting you to grumble, “That isn’t how you build a fire. Prissy Southron boy.”

You take over and the fire is roaring within moments. Aemond blinks at the sight before letting out a quiet laugh. Though his ego is bruised, he cannot help but think how glad he is to be here with you right now. The tension between the two of you is palpable, electric even as you sit side by side, eating your meal. Despite the fact that you are wearing a cloak, you shiver from the cold. Aemond frowns, not being able to stand seeing you in any sort of discomfort, and quickly wraps his furs around you.

“I don’t need it,” you protest, “I’m used to the Northern cold. You aren’t.” He ignores your words, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to keep you warm, feeling more protective of you than ever before. You surprise him when you sigh and lift the furs, draping them around him as well, “Share it with me, at least.”

It is not the response he expects, but he is glad that you have somewhat accepted his help. His body is pressed against yours, the two of you curling up together under the cloak and eating your meal in an oddly comfortable silence. You break it after a few moments, turning to face him.

“Can I ask you something?” Aemond turns to look at you, his gaze intense, as he nods his head, “Was it an accident? Killing Lucerys?”

The question catches him off guard, but he quickly realizes that it shouldn’t have. You have always been direct, honest. And he wishes to return that sentiment.

“It was,” he murmurs, looking away from you, “I could not control my dragon.”

“I knew it,” you say quietly, “The boy who would bring me winter roses so I would not be homesick was not capable of such a thing.”

Your words touch him deeply. The fact that you see the truth of him, that he is not this evil creature that others paint him to be - your words touch that wounded part of him. And he imagines just how much deeper he can fall in love with you.

“Do you believe me, little wolf?”

You nod before asking, “Did you ever think of me? When I went back to Winterfell?”

He stares into the flames, as if praying for them to give him the strength to answer before replying, “I thought of you often. You plagued my memories. Haunted my dreams. So many of my waking thoughts were of you.”

“I thought of you too.” Your admittance comes as a shock to him, “When I heard I was betrothed to you, I remember thinking that I didn’t wish to marry. But that if it had to be someone, I’d rather it be you.”

The way you look at him, with those gentle eyes that gaze upon him with no fear, they make him want to bury himself deep inside of your heart, your soul, and never emerge again. You finish eating in silence and put out the fire, entering your tent. You move to the far side, curling up into a ball under your blanket, eyes closing. Aemond, however, decides to take a chance, sliding closer to you and pressing his front up against your back, an arm wrapping around your waist, trying to convince himself that this is only to keep you warm. You do not move closer to him but you do not push him away.

Instead, you only whisper, “Goodnight.”

Aemond is unsure how many hours later it is that he wakes in the dead of night to the feeling of you squirming out of his grip. And within moments, he realizes why you have done so. He hears the same rustling noise outside that woke you, moving to sit beside you at the entrance of the tent.

“Where are you going?” He whispers.

“To see what it is.”

He pulls you back so that your back is pressed flush against his chest, his breath tickling your neck, “It is the middle of the night and we are deep in the forest. You are not leaving this tent.”

You let out an annoyed huff, squirming out of his grip, “I’m going with or without you.”

He groans, watching you grab your cloak as he mumbles, “Fine. I’m coming with you.”

The two of you walk, Aemond carrying the oil lamp from your tent, the sound of the snow crunching beneath your boots echoing through the forest. Aemond continuously glances over at you, stopping immediately when you do.

“The air is so still,” you observe, “The forest makes no noise.”

Aemond realizes you are right. The forest is eerily still, the silence is deafening. No wind blows, no animals make sound, no noise whatsoever. It is as if all nature has gone mute. All the two of you can hear is the sound of your own breathing, your own footsteps. Suddenly, Aemond feels you pull him behind a boulder. He glances around, an intense feeling of dread filling his heart along with the instinct to protect you from whatever may happen next.

“It was of the future,” you say quietly, “My vision. They are back.”

Everything inside him turns cold when he looks in the direction where you point and sees the creature that he always thought of as a bedtime story. The dead beyond the wall. An old wives tale no more. There it is, white-skinned, blue eyes, with a white mane of hair, its face gaunt. It does not seem to notice the two of you, lumbering about aimlessly.

When you move to climb over the boulder to get closer, Aemond immediately grabs your arm, pulling you back to him, “No.”

His jaw clenches as you glare at him, “Let go. I need to get proof of their existence to take back to CAstle Black.”

He does not ease his grip, no matter how hard you glare he remains unmoved, “I will not allow you to go anywhere near that creature. I would die to protect you. I will not let it happen.”

You continue trying to move, crying out as the White Walker lumbers out of sight, “It’s getting away!”

He pulls you toward him with all his strength, your bodies pressed closely together, an intensity about him as he speaks to you, “You will not go.”

You glare up at Aemond furiously, “I came here to obtain proof of their existence! It is my duty as a Stark!”

His grip tightens as he pins you between the boulder and his body, his voice low and stern as he leans forward, a burning heat ignited in him, the desire of a dragon to protect its treasure, “I refuse to allow you to go.”

You scowl, shoving past him as you walk toward the campsite, muttering to yourself in annoyance that you never should have allowed him to come with you. The fire that burns inside you, your stubbornness - it all serves to drive him crazy. He follows you back, resisting the call of his body to grab you and kiss you, his passion nearly overwhelming him.

“Did you want to get yourself killed?”

“I wanted to get proof of their existence!” You exclaim, “Who will believe me now?”

Your recklessness and your disregard for your life angers the former prince, his voice thick with rage as he stares you down, “You will not ever put yourself in danger again.”

“It is the Starks’ duty as wardens of the North! What is one life compared to-”

Aemond shakes his head, growing more furious at the suggestion that you sacrifice yourself, his voice a low growl, “You will not put your life at risk again.”

You narrow your eyes, “Why do you care so much?”

He inhales sharply through his nose, his eye ablaze as his breath intermingles with yours, “You mean everything to me. Every breath you take is dear to me.”

Your lips part in surprise at his words, his gaze fixed on them. All he wants is to kiss you. You are his, you were always meant to be his. He could not give less of a damn about the vows you remind him of that he swore to the Night’s Watch, of the fact that your betrothal is broken. All he feels is the primal urge to take the beautiful woman in his arms, the woman that he loves. He leans in, his lips claiming yours in a deep, passionate kiss, one that he has dreamed of for so long. You rest your hands on his face, kissing him back passionately, heated. The intensity grows with each moment as he presses his body to yours, kissing you with a hunger that he has not experienced before.

“I have seen this so many times in my dreams,” you whisper against his lips, “I never thought it was a vision of the future, only a dream.”

Aemond stares at you longingly, content to just look upon your face before embracing you tightly, pressing his lips to your neck, nibbling at your sensitive skin. You help him out of his furs, and he pulls off your cloak, the two of you shedding article by article of clothing until you are fully bared before each other, flesh pressed against flesh. Aemond gently pushes you to the floor of the tent, his fingers moving to circle your pearl before trailing down to your cunt. He continues kissing your neck, moving down to your chest, nipping at your sensitive skin, reveling in the cry of his name you let out as he pushes his fingers inside of you. You feel so perfect and warm around him that between the sight of your bare body and the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his digits, he grows impossibly hard.

Everything is perfect, your warmth, your scent, all of it.

“You and I are bound,” you breathe, gazing up at him as he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, “This love… It could either be our salvation or our ruin. I have seen two paths. One where you lay dead at my feet, the White Walker wrapping its fingers around my throat and stealing the air from me.”

Your words terrify Aemond, but he must now, “And the other?”

“You and I in a manse by the sea in Pentos,” you murmur, moaning softly at his fingers brushing against your most sensitive spot, “We leave Westeros. All of this. Two little boys and a girl. And one day, our line returns to our homeland. The Prince that was Promised.”

He cares not for prophecy nor glory anymore, not when you come undone around his fingers, your face twisted in ecstasy as you cry out his name. Not when he thinks of you becoming the mother of his children, your words fanning the flames of his love. You and him, children and a home by the sea.

“A dream beyond all dreams,” he murmurs, pressing himself against you, aligning his cock with your core, desperate to feel you, to be one with you.

“But what if it is my other vision that comes true? What if giving into this love dooms us both?”

His voice is hoarse and intense as he joins your bodies as one, pushing inside you with one fluid thrust, “I would rather die loving you than live the rest of my life without you, little wolf.”

You two lay like that for a long moment, Aemond waiting for you to get used to the sensation of having him inside of you. He shifts slightly and you let out a mewl of pleasure, your nails scratching against his back as you wrap your legs around him. You buck your hips up, pleading for him to move, which he is all too happy to oblige to. Aemond pulls back, slamming back into you with a low groan of your name, the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him being the closest thing to divinity he has ever felt. His hair falls like a silvery curtain over the both of you as you go to remove his eyepatch. Aemond winces slightly, only to melt into your touch as you kiss his scarred skin.

“My beautiful dragon,” you whisper, admiring the sapphire, his scar, all of him.

You have always loved all of him, he realizes with no little amount of happiness, feeling your walls fluttering around him, every word from your lips, every kiss like a balm for his weary soul.

And when he finally reaches his peak, his thumb pressed to your pearl, feeling you come undone moments later, he realizes that this is the closest to the Seven Heavens he could ever hope to be. Your embrace… It is everything he ever dreamed of, everything he ever hoped for.

He kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, lost in a state of bliss.

“We will return to Castle Black and I will ask for you as my escort to Winterfell,” you say softly, drawing circles on his chest with your fingers, the gesture being so glaringly intimate that it makes his heart ache, “But we will go to White Harbor. We will take a ship to Pentos and leave this place. To the Free Cities. To Pentos.”

Your words send a jolt of excitement through him as he presses his lips to your temple, “Our new home, little wolf. Our new life.”

You nod, smiling up at him, “Anywhere we go is home so long as we are together, my dragon.”

He nods, resting his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes, “Anywhere and everywhere, so long as we are together. My heart is yours, my soul is yours, my life is yours, my little wolf.”

You smile, eyes fluttering shut as you whisper, “I love you, my dragon.”

“I love you. My sweet, brave little wolf. My destiny. My everything.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #my writing #aemond oneshot #targaryen!reader #aemond #stark!reader

2K notes · View notes

churipu · 4 months

Note

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

1K notes · View notes

talaok · 5 months

Note

can i request a fic with joel miller? where he marks up readers neck with loads of hickeys and tommy and ellie ask about them?

idk whether joel would be embarrassed or proud lol, like ellie would be horrified or bully him depending on his attitude ig

love your blog!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

It was a beautiful sunny morning in Jackson, the sun was high up in the sky, the stove was working without any issues for once, and as you stood there, bare feet on the floor tiles, eggs frying in the pan... you took a moment to breathe, to enjoy the silence that spread around you... something so simple, and yet impossible to get as of lately.

And just like clockwork, as always, the moment you were starting to relax, the sound of fast-paced footsteps echoed from the hall, as Ellie came down the stairs at full force.

The day that kid didn't wake up with enough energy to power a whole city was gonna be the day the world came to an end.

You remained turned, as she sprinted through the door.

"Good morning" you smiled, turning your head to give her a brief smile, before getting back to the pan.

"Good morning!" She grinned, slightly out of breath as she sat at the kitchen table

"did you sleep well?"

"I would have slept better if Joel had stopped snoring so loud the whole night"

You couldn't help but snort

You loved that man with your whole heart... but she kinda had a point on that.

"Count your blessings" you laughed "At least you don't have to sleep next to him"

"Yeah I have no idea how you do that"

"me either" A soft chuckle left your throat

"so what's for breakfast?"

"eggs"

You could physically feel the disappointment take over her body.

"what a surprise" she grumbled "Never had those for breakfast before"

"hey!" you gasped, still inevitably smiling "Eggs are good for you, and you should be thankful I'm even cooking you breakfast, kid"

And although you could hear her sigh, the moment you turned, pan in hand to give her her breakfast, that shit-eating, fake grin she'd learned from Joel was plastered on her face,

but that was only for a moment, because a second after, the smile, together with any type of joy, pretend or not, left her features.

"what happened to your neck?"

You frowned

"What?"

Her eyes were wide, worried, seemingly scared

"Y-your neck, what happened? Did You get hurt? Did someone hurt you? Does Joel kno-"

And only then, only when his name left her mouth did you realize what had happened, did you realize the mistake you'd made this morning.

"No Ellie" you shook your head, putting the pan down to place a gentle hand on her arm "It's... it's nothing, don't worry"

She shoved your hand away with a quick move as she argued

"What do you mean don't worry, your whole neck's red y/n! What happened?!"

"Nothing Ellie, I promise" A soft laugh threatened to spill from your lips as you tried to calm her down, but the girl resisted as she stood up suddenly, the chair screeching at the movement

"Why don't you wanna tell me what happened? I'm not a kid, I wanna know who did this to you!"

"Ellie, I-"

And just then, heavy footsteps entered the room.

"What's with all the screaming?"

Joel's disheveled self had joined the party, looking every bit of tired as he was.

He passed a hand through his messy hair, groaning lowly before his gaze settled on you and then on Ellie.

Ellie scoffed as her eyes widened even more

"Are you serious!?" she almost shouted, clearly done with the both of you "Are you blind? Something obviously happened to y/n e she doesn't wanna tell me what it is!"

You watched as every bit of sleep left his body, now tense and alert as he always was when danger was near

"What happened to you?"

But before Ellie could intervene and get even madder, you shut them both off as you rolled your eyes at Joel.

"My neck Joel" you explained, raising your brows "Ellie wants to know what happened to my neck, and since it's your doing... I'm gonna let you handle this"

And with one simple sentence, both their attitudes had changed

You watched as the realization hit Joel, and then a moment later as the other realization hit

Your neck.

your neck was red and bruised,

and he knew why

Of course he knew why... he was why

"what do you mean it's his doing-"

Ellie's face was creased in puzzlement, but all you did was turn to Joel, waiting for him to dig himself out of the grave he'd dug.

"Ellie- I-" a heavy sigh fled his mouth as he shot you a -why do I have to do this- look, although he knew damn well why... mr "just one more".

"what, what happened?"

He cleared his throat, clearly struggling to hold the kid's gaze

"Well, Ellie" you didn't miss the way his voice cracked the tiniest bit in the middle "Y/n's neck is red because..." his expecting eyes traveled to you again

"Because?" Ellie asked, impatient.

"because well, Ellie when..." you watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed the sand in his mouth

Funny how you'd seen this man do things that would make the average man piss his pants, without a hint of dread, and this was the most you'd seen him scared.

"Well, it's that... when-" he cleared his throat again, as his hand went to scratch the inexistent itch at the back of his neck "when- uhm- two adults love each other very much they... well they do-"

And thanks to some god somewhere Ellie stopped him before he could end the sentence

"Oh my god-stop!" she moaned, looking ready to throw up"I know what sex is Joel!"she gagged, looking between you two "So is-is that why your neck's..."

You only needed to give her a slight nod before another agonizing groan left her mouth "Oh my god-" her face contorted into a frown "that's - disgusting, you didn't have to tell me that!"

"You said you wanted to"

"yeah well I take it back!"

And even though you tried to stop her, calling for her, she had bolted out of the room before you could do anything, bumping into a figure as she did.

"woh" Tommy breathed, frowning as the kid flew past him, having let himself into your home once again

"what happened? Why is Ellie-" he asked, his brows pulled together in puzzlement, before they creased even more "Wait what happened to your neck?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly

"That's what happened to Ellie" you breathed, still smiling "Your brother got a little too carried away last night"

You watched Joel roll his eyes as Tommy laughed like that was the funniest thing he'd heard in days

"'s that right?" he joked, throwing his brother a smug grin "And you tried explaining her just now, didn't you?"

"yeah" Joel grunted, waiting before Tommy inevitably laughed again, this time even going as far as throwing his head back.

"it ain't that funny" he argued, sighing loudly as he walked to you

"No, no you're right, You explainin' to a little girl about sex ain't funny at all" he snorted, laughing even louder somehow.

The moment he finished his little scene, you were both looking at him annoyedly, although a spark of amusement still ignited your eyes.

"alright, alright, I'll go talk to her" he held his hands up in defeat, "just leave me some of those eggs, 'm hungry"

And that's all he said, before he was out of the room, leaving you and Joel alone

"Just one more huh?" you smiled, looking up at him, "my whole neck's red"

"why didn't you cover it?" he asked, which, to be honest, was a legitimate question, you always did cover it whenever something like this happened... which were more times than you liked to admit.

"Ah so now's my fault?" you cocked an eyebrow

"c'mon now, sweetheart, you mark me too" he argued

"yeah but where no one can see, baby"

And at that a lascivious smirk appeared on his lips as he gripped your waist "mmmh what can I do?" he breathed, his mouth hovering over your lips just to get lower to the reddened skin of your neck "i just can't help myself when I see this pretty neck"

And then once again, he was kissing it, softly starting to focus more just underneath your left ear

"Joel..." you whimpered

"what?"

"are you serious?" you chuckled, clinging to his arms

"one more can't hurt at this point darlin'..."

2K notes · View notes

wesstars · 6 months

Text

hot on your lips

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. she leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ wc: 3.0k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! no-ghostface au bc i didn’t feel like fitting it in. bad dirty talk, top!reader and bottom!tara, needy!tara, D/s dynamics, reader is a little tiny bit of a sadist (as a treat,) sex on camera, exhibitionism and voyeurism, mild restraint, mild degradation, horribly excessive use of italics a/n: am I back?? idk how i feel about this. thank you to @evilwednesday for helping me out w the cover image & the title :)

masterlist

Tara’s in your arms before her bag even hits the floor.

You’re so, so glad the hallway is empty as she nearly bowls you over in the doorway of your shared apartment, peppering your face with kisses. You lift her up and give her a spin, pressing your lips to hers—it’s pure comfort, after so many long months of Tara’s school semester. Long distance was a real bitch sometimes, but Tara reminded you every day of how it was all worth it. In fact, you’d felt as if what you had with her was made more real by the distance so often between you. But now, she’s in your arms, finally, and you nudge her suitcase inside with your foot, bending to grab the backpack she’d discarded.

Pulling back, she speaks, so soft and shy it nearly makes your heart burst. “Hi.”

“Tara,” you breathe, “I thought—I wasn’t supposed to go pick you up from ORD until—”

“There was a change of plans,” she interrupts, palms on your cheeks to pull you into a bruising kiss. You feel yourself practically melt into her, like a docile dog in a firm hand. You set her bag down, just managing to not drop it. “I took an earlier flight-” her lips are on yours again- “Couldn’t wait.”

“Couldn’t wait… for what?”

“This.” She slips her tongue into your mouth, all hot and velvet on your teeth. God, the way it felt to miss her was addictive, but this was a million times better. Grabbing blindly, you miss the door handle a few times as you’re distracted by her soft lips, finally managing to slam the door shut. Shifting your strong hands to the soft crease of her ass and thigh, you bump your teeth into hers in your eagerness, but she doesn’t seem to mind. You walk her into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind you.

Tara smells like the airport and outside wind, something uniquely New York caught in her hair. She pulls back for only a second to reach around, drop her jacket and shoes, leaving her in just a shirt and comfy sweats. Her palms are sun-warm on your cheek and your neck; any place that she could touch was fair game for her. Your mind feels hazy already—it makes it hard to focus as you try to maneuver around furniture you could navigate in the dark, Tara’s presence more than disarming. Part of you wants to slow down, ask her how her semester went, but the smarter, Tara-influenced majority of you knows that with the way she was pulling at you and your heart, she would straight up kill you if you did that. You’re all too happy to oblige her, kissing her back for every day that she’d been gone.

“I missed you,” she whispers as she pulls on the collar of your shirt, even though you’re pressed so close already. She’s feather-light in your arms as you carry her down the hallway, nearly stumbling through the bedroom door. You let her down to stand between your feet, freeing your hands to cup her jaw. The curve of Tara’s face is as familiar as the way her nose brushes against yours, soft. It only takes a second, really, but with just her scraping her nails on the back of your neck, you’re wanting, enough to hold her tight and feel her melt against you.

Tara nearly topples the both of you when she grabs your shirt again and pulls. You just barely catch yourself from crushing her against the bed—but as always, she takes you by surprise, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and slanting her mouth against yours to deepen the kiss. The look in her half-lidded eyes as you peek down at her tells you all you need to know about her intentions. With the way you were kissing up on her, anyone would think that you’d been apart for years, not months, but god knows you couldn’t get enough.

It’s near obscene, the press of your tongue against hers, but with all of the urgency built from the past few months, it only serves to split you open. As quick as it began, your kiss, broken by barely a gasp for air, turns heated and hungry. It’s filthy, and the urge to spit in her mouth and make her swallow is more than a fleeting thought. Instead, you force her thighs open with your hips, grabbing her ass and pulling her close.

Under her sweats, you can feel the edges of fabric underneath, and you grin, skimming your hands lower. You furrow your brow when you feel a telltale band of elastic, and your hands tighten on her thighs.

“Tara-” your voice comes out a rasp- “are you wearing thigh highs?” You’re nearly dizzy with how much blood rushes from your head to your stomach, pooling low and hot.

“I know you like them.” Tara smiles a little, impishly, but she looks down to your hands instead of your eyes. You know her—she’s looking for confirmation that she’s right, that she hadn’t overstepped in wearing something for you. In your mind, it’s absurd of her to even entertain this sort of thing, the way it sends a tingle up your spine. But Tara needs it, and you’re more than eager to please. You trail your fingers to her waistband, pulling her sweats down and off to expose her. Your grip on her hips is tight and squeezing, holding her in a way that’s unmistakable as want.

You cock your head, ignoring how loud your heart runs. “Oh, yeah? Is that why you’re matching again?” You take her hand, slide your thumb over her fingernails, in gel black. The sheer fabric is the same shade, soft as sin against your palms. Briefly, you consider tearing them apart, seeing the ruin of tatters against her skin—but her little whimper as you trace your fingers where her thighs spill out over the top makes you change your mind.

She’s breathing hard from just the kissing, and when she sighs into your mouth, you’re reminded of the way she’d boldly suggested, your blushing cheeks visible even on FaceTime, that you let her take a souvenir back to her apartment. Tara had complained that she was bored, in a way that homework couldn’t solve, her wide eyes telling you that was as true as could be. You never could back down from a challenge, no matter how warm it made you feel—that was why there was currently an old camera sitting on the bedroom table. You smile, biting your tongue.

“Remember what you said that night, baby?”

You point to the other end of the room, to the camera there, mocking. You expect her to laugh, to shake her head with an exasperated fondness, and push her lips back on yours. Instead, she freezes, swallowing. Her grip on your biceps tightens.

“Tara?”

She turns her gaze to you, and in the half-light you see that her pupils are blown, wide in a sort of disbelieving arousal. It hooks you in, a tug in your stomach, as your mind fills with only Tara.

“Tara…” you repeat, “do you remember?” She’s quiet, a blush rising steadily to her cheeks. “‘Don’t you wish you could see what you do to me,’” you tease, leaning in close. “You want me to watch you, right? Well, doll, there’s a camera right there.”

“I—” Tara nearly protests, but oh, her flush, the way her hips move so subtly, is telling enough for you. Not letting her hesitate anymore, you grab her shoulders, flipping her so she’s under you. She fits perfectly, holding you up just as much as you’re holding her down.

“You’re gonna watch this when you’re alone, right?” You tease, trailing a hand down her arm to push her wrists above her head with one hand. In your daze, you know her tells as well as you know that drag of desire in your stomach, and so you already know that she’s— “You’re gonna watch this and rut that needy pussy on your hand, is that it?”

It’s your turn to look for confirmation—distantly, it rings in your mind that you must’ve lost your mind, to be talking to Tara like this, but what’s more apparent to you is the moan that escapes from her mouth, the way her eyes slide shut.

“Yeah,” she breathes, something shameless in the twist of her brow as she arches her back. Her nipples press into your chest, hard through her thin shirt, her knees falling open even more. She’s warm, underwear just clinging to her and leaving nothing to imagination. “I’ll watch it whenever you want me to.”

“You will,” you laugh, something deep and dark. “But when you touch, you’ll let me know when you’re gonna come, okay? So I know that you’ve stopped, like a good girl.” You grind your hips between her thighs, watching her breath catch. It’s a soft, bated moment, but something cracks in the air, nearly audible. The shift between the two of you is a familiar one, apparent in the way that she clings harder to you, presenting her chest, the column of her throat, the tilt of her jaw.

“I will,” she says obediently, her pleading gaze making you grin. “I’ll stop, I’ll touch myself, whatever you want—”

Just as quick, you’re pushing yourself off of her. The room is quiet, save for your footsteps and Tara’s breaths, adorably shaky. The camera is easy to set up, even if you do chance a look at her one too many times. You’re back by her side, and you both watch the red light, winking back at you.

You sit down next to Tara, trailing your hand up and down her stomach. “I’ll tell you every dirty little thing I’d like to do to you, if you’re patient,” you whisper in her ear, something meant for only her to hear.

Her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and Tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. She leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ Giving a little twist that not-so-accidentally presses her heat against the seam of your jeans, she pulls her shirt and bra off in one miraculous motion. You touch her skin, smooth and warm and hot, and you just know she enjoys how your eyes can’t help but drop lower, your hands nearly following. She leans in to kiss you again, the ends of her hair tickling your collar. You both pull back, and you take a second to just look at her, and you can see how she’s been. School was long and difficult, it’s in the set of her eyes, and you want to know more, despite the burn in your stomach.

But with the way she’s looking back at you, white little teeth worrying at her lip, you all but smile.

“Alright, pretty girl,” you tease, “what is it, now?” She whines when your hands meet her chest, rolling her nipples between your fingers. “C’mon, tell me.”

It comes more easily than you expect, and it drops molten heat into your chest. “I wanna ride your face,” she whispers. You grab for her hips, tight. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

Glancing over at the red light, you bite down a groan. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“Yes, yes—” she’s already straining against your grip, trying to crawl her way up your body.

“That’s for me to decide, Tara.”

She keens, but she drops her head to watch your hands on her—she’s sensitive—as she pants. You shush her, sliding your thigh between hers. It must catch on her in just the right way, because she’s tensing up in your arms, fingers digging into your shoulders.

“You’re looking so desperate,” you laugh, glad she can’t see the flush on your cheeks.

“I am.” Her bold declaration stops your heart in your chest; you know she’s telling the truth.

“So say ‘please,’” you murmur, head spinning.

Her eyes are glossy when she finally looks at you. “Please…”

“Very good,” you say patiently. You lean up to kiss her, sucking her bottom lip none too gently. “Why don’t you beg a little?”

You see how the false hope makes her tears so willing to spill out. Her hips rut on your thigh, with no rhyme or rhythm—you’re practically begging yourself to help her, but you hold back.

“Please,” she says again, taking a ragged breath. “Please, want your tongue in me—”

“Louder, Tara,” you snap, threading a hand in her hair and pulling her head up, none too gently. You force her to look in the camera, watching her pupils dilate as she stares down the lens. “I want you to be reminded of what a whiny bitch you are.”

“Want you to eat me out,” she whines to the camera, closing her eyes against the redness in her cheeks. “Want…” The next time she says it, it's louder—you release Tara’s hips to pull her panties off, nearly tearing them when she shifts up the bed at the same moment.

It makes you ache, being so close to touching Tara, her scent heady and thick, ensconcing your every sense. Her hands grab the headboard as you wrap your arms around her thighs to pull her closer to your lips. She’s practically shaking in her anticipation, and truthfully, it’s hard for you to wait any longer. You trace your tongue across the stretch marks on her inner thighs, and then straight to her cunt. She’s all velvet and honey against you, as you eagerly run your tongue up and down, savoring what you’ve missed. It’s so intoxicatingly good that you nearly miss the way she cries out, your name a shameless prayer.

You miss her weight on your chest as her back arches, and immediately you’re tracing the dip in her spine. Irrevocably, you’re watching her every move as you tease at her clit, making her rut her hips against your face, chasing friction.

“Fuck,” she says on an exhale, breaking the word into two damning syllables, just like the ba-dum of your heart. Tara tears her hand from the headboard, threading her fingers into your hair to pull you closer. It’s a gesture that you should chastise her for, but you can’t bring yourself to resist her.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” You wrap your lips around her clit and ease two fingers in at the same time—she’s so wet it doesn’t take much to get them in. When you look up at her, the glazed expression on her face is something sated and satisfied, like chocolate wouldn’t ever melt in her mouth. A lazy grin graces her lips, a dusty pink rising up on her cheeks as she squirms against you, adjusting easily to the familiar stretch.

Somehow, you can feel in your gut that she’s being good for the camera, and you can’t bring yourself to take your time. You want everything at once, to make her come over and over again into your waiting mouth, greed your only sin since you were so far past lust, falling into adoration and something dangerously like—

“Please.” It spills out of Tara’s mouth, golden and warm.

“You’ve been saying ‘please’ an awful lot, Tara.”

You wrap your hand, the one not knuckle deep in Tara’s cunt, around her thigh. Squeezing, you felt the soft stockings against your palm as you guided her hips to rock into you, your fingers and your tongue. You wanted her to feel whenever she’d play the video back, for her to be able to memorize fucking your mouth, so no matter the distance, she’d remember. As if on cue, her moan echoes around the walls, in your mind.

“The camera’s gonna pick that up, you know.” Your voice is rough, out of breath with how warm it is to be under Tara.

Her voice is tight, choked. “I know, baby.”

You don’t stop, only shifting slightly to get your thumb on her clit, so you can lean back. You swipe your tongue on your bottom lip, tasting her so sweet, and you watch her eyes, fading in and out of focus, tracking your motion.

“Gonna—”

“Tara,” you laugh, but it’s a warning. She whines, hips twitching, and you can see her lip between her teeth.

“Gonna—oh god—it’s—”

“Gonna what?” You mock, flexing your fingers. “You can do better than that.”

“Please, let me come?” Something warm unfurls in your chest at Tara knowing you want her to ask, your perfect girl, even when she’s so far gone.

“Why?” Your question makes Tara still her hips, which is saying something. “Why should I let you, baby?”

She’s quiet, and since you’ve always been weak for her, you take pity. Your heart’s racing, and the heat in your stomach craves to just see her.

“You’re so good for me, my love… why should I let you come?”

“Because—” Tara breaks off with a lovely little whine, and then it hits her. It breaks up into a floaty feeling in her stomach, like a plume of sparks. Her thighs are trembling around your head, and you lean up to smear her slick on your lips, nudging her clit. “Because I’m your good girl.”

“That’s it, doll,” you murmur. “Come for me, Tara.”

And Tara comes, white hot and tense against you, and in that moment, you think you believe in magic. You want to invent something new just to eternalize her with more than the camera, something more than memory. She’s breathing hard, and you wiggle yourself out from under her. Pliant in your arms, she’s quiet as you help her lay down gently on the covers. For you, your mind was anything but quiet. You think you could run anywhere just to feel Tara, and you can’t resist smiling. Crawling over to give her a peck on the lips, you think Tara’s done—she’s blinking sleepily, eyes flicking between you and the camera, so you move between her knees to shuffle her stockings off, skin against skin. You hear her clear her throat, breaking your trance of fondness.

You look up—you see Tara look to the camera again, and your eyes helplessly follow. She’s got a mischievous little quirk to her lips, like she just knows how bad you wanted to see her come, and…

“You’re gonna tell me those dirty things now, aren’t you?”

a/n cont'd: 🌝

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

2K notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 3 months

Text

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter Nine - Cough Cough I'm Sick

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.3K

(idk who sorts out the media stuff so i just said marketing manager)

Series Masterlist

Here's the thing, it was exactly what it looked like. Max let out a laugh as he looked at the papaya drivers panicked. "Relax," he said quickly and walked out of the driver's room. "I'll meet you both outside."

Y/N and Lando looked at each other as Max shut the door. "Fuck," she whispered as she pulled her clothes back onto her body. She swapped Landos shirt for her own.

Wordlessly, Y/N left his drivers room. She pushed past Max and sped walked out of the track. She was so fucking stupid - this was why they had those rules in the first place!

And now that Max knew, what was going to happen?

She didn't sleep that night, anxiety overtaking her. For the first time of the grand prix weekend, Y/N checked her phone. She went onto her private account, went to the for you page (for the memes) and was immediately flooded with pictures of her in Landos hoodie. Fuck, that was right. She was wearing Landos hoodie.

She didn't know if Lando went to the club with Max, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around her pillow and tried to get some sleep.

***

They'd been home for two days and they hadn't slept together. It was unusual, but Lando couldn't blame her, especially after what had happened in Spain.

He missed her. Which, this time just a few months ago, would have felt impossible. But he really did miss her, everything about her.

She didn't entirely avoid him, but it felt like she didn't want him anymore. They hadn't properly spoken since the grand prix, almost like they weren't even friends anymore.

Lando kept himself busy. He gamed and streamed a lot, rarely giving himself time to think about the little hole in his heart.

It was an overreaction, Y/N knew. But she was terrified of the consequences that they'd inevitably get. So far, nothing had happened. But that didn't mean it wasn't coming.

The next week was the Canadian grand prix. For every grand prix since they began living together, Y/N and Lando had travelled together. One of them would usually drive to the grand prix, taking it in turns.

This time, though, Y/N travelled alone. She made her own way to the grand prix, over thinking and then sleeping on the flight.

Lando hadn't realised she'd left. He knocked on her bedroom and pushed it open. "Y/N?" He called, but she wasn't there, already on her way to Canada.

Obviously, Y/N arrived before him. She’d slept on the flight, sure, but she still made her way to her bedroom for a nap. Exhaustion gripped her as she got under the blankets and closed her eyes, still in her travelling clothes.

When Y/N woke up, there was insistent knocking on her hotel room door. “Fine, alright!” She shouted, her voice croaky. Her throat killed as she pulled open the door and came face to face with the McLaren marketing manager. “Hey,” Y/N said, rubbing at her eyes.

“You’re meant to be doing media things with Lando,” the marketing manager said quickly.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath and checked the time on her phone. Had she really been asleep for that long? “Okay, I’ll get dressed.”

She shut the door and got changed. What she would have loved to do was take a shower, but with the way the marketing manager was talking, she definitely didn’t have time.

As soon as she was dressed, Y/N followed the marketing manager down to the lobby of the hotel. Outside there was a car waiting for her. She climbed into the back seat and pressed her head against the cool window as they drove towards the track.

Somehow, she fell asleep in the car once again. She woke up to somebody shaking her shoulder, and was quick to follow them into the McLaren hospitality unit. Her had swam as she walked, but she ignored it; she had a job to do.

It was the first time she had seen Lando since she left their apartment. “Hey,” she said through a croaky voice as she sat in the seat beside him.

“Are you okay?” Asked Lando, his arm resting on the sofa behind her.

Y/N quickly moved it. She nodded her head and looked at the camera in front of them as a member of staff past her and Lando question cards.

***

She was sick. That was clear to anyone as she threw up into her bathroom. But to her, it was just stress. She’d had a taste of her first win and she wanted more. Th thought of trying to keep being consistent was making her so stressed that she was coming across sick.

She threw up before qualifying. How she made it all the way to Q3, she didn’t know, but she struggled to qualify in the top five. As soon as qualifying was done, Y/N rushed back to the hotel room while the team at McLaren took care of the media for her. She managed to avoid fans as she was driven back to the hotel.

As soon as she was in her room as she asleep on her bed, still wearing the McLaren shirts and shorts that she had left the circuit in. She didn’t even climb under the covers before falling asleep, her head just about on the pillow.

Again, she woke up to somebody knocking at her door. Again, she reluctantly stood up and pulled open the door.

Only this time, it was Lando on the other side of the door. “Shit,” he whispered as he looked at her. “You look…”

“Like shit,” Y/N answered for him.

“Are you okay?” Lando asked again and Y/N nodded, leaning her forehead against the wood of the door frame. But Lando clearly didn’t believe her. He stared at her, raising his eyebrows, waiting for her to take it back, to tell him that she was feeling as terrible as she looked.

Still, she couldn’t admit it. Lando tried to walk past her, to get into her room, but she stood in his way. “What do you want, Lando?”

“I want you to admit that you’re sick and let me take care of you.”

“I don’t want you to take care of me,” she said, somewhat stubbornly.

So, Lando grabbed a hold of her shoulders and forced his way into her room. He sat the door behind him and sat her on the bed. “Talk to me,” he said, kicking off his shoes and laying back against her pillows.

“About what?” She spat back, crossing her arms as she looked out of the window.

“About why you’re not talking to me.”

She visibly deflated. Fuck, she had missed him, but their last time had scared her enough to keep her away. No, he was just asking to get into her head before the race.

“Max hasn’t told anybody, you know,” he said, leaning forward and placing his large hand on her shoulder. “He’s not going to.”

Y/N twitched her head towards him, but she didn’t say anything.

“We could go back to the way we were, you know,” Lando continued. “I… I miss you and I want to go to how we were.”

She let out a sob and wiped beneath her eyes. She missed it too. Missed him. “I-“ but she couldn’t say more than that.

Wordlessly she crawled towards him. she laid down beside him, placing her head on his chest. “Lando, we can’t tonight,” she said.

“I know,” he responded with a nod. “You’re sick.”

“I’m not sick!” She insisted.

“You’re sick.”

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @hollie911 @topguncultleader @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns @holy-macncheese-balls @jule239 @aexitizen-ln4 @landosgirlxoxo @allinestarr @starmanv @st0rmzi3 @random-human02 @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @happymeal777 @ashy-kit @juniper-july19 @im-an-overthinker @haylenxx @kapsylia @prettiest-at-the-party @urfavnoirette @norassimpingzone @thehufflepuffavenger1 @taintet @amorydsmt @hi00000234567 @iamkaku @maxv33rstappen @noneofyourfbusinessworld @thatsusbitch @izzy-marvel @carqueensworld

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #ln4 imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader

691 notes · View notes

demiesworld · 8 months

Text

jjk men and how they show their love for you

☆ characters: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, kento nanami, + choso

☆ genre: fluff, romantic, domestic

☆ contents: mentions of abuse & death in toji's part, but nothing graphic

☆ notes: reader is a female and uses she/her pronouns. ages are not mentioned in this, but the reader is of legal age. curse spirits, sorcerers, etc. do not exist. everything is purely fictional.

— satoru gojo: cuddling

he likes it when you two are alone together in the privacy of your home, cuddling together underneath a warm blanket while watching a really bad (in his opinion) movie that you picked out. and even though he really wants to critique the writer's script of the characters, and the actors acting performance, satoru doesn't say not a word to you about it. he just holds you around your waist tighter and nuzzles his nose into your neck. he likes the smell of you after a shower because you smell fresh and it's comforting to him.

— suguru geto: quality time

to suguru, there's no better way to keep your attention on him than taking you out somewhere or just spending time together. when he takes you out on a date, he encourages you to silence your phone (or better yet turn it off) to avoid any distractions. same goes for when you two are being intimate. he's a man that wants eyes on him and for you to listen to him. he does the same thing for you. you want to tell suguru about the nosy bitch at work? he's listening and giving you advice. you want to go to the netherlands? he's buying a plane ticket in business class for you two. whatever it is, suguru loves to spend time with you as long as you are on the same page as him.

— toji fushiguro: acts of service

growing up in the zenin family and being abused by them sculpted toji into the cold, callous man he is today. followed by the sudden and tragic death of his previous wife he didn't think he could find love ever again. not until he met you. you warmed this man's heart at the first time he saw you. he likes to show you that he loves you by doing things that makes your life easier. he'll pay and put gas in your car. he will help you with cleaning the dishes after a meal that you've cooked for. if you're running short on money for you rent, he'll even cover it for you and doesn't expect for you to pay him back. just the thought of you being comfortable is a good enough reward.

— kento nanami: words of affirmation

with kento, you would wake up in the mornings to a good morning text followed by him reminding you of your beauty, your excellence, and telling you not to let menial things get you in a bad mood. in your lunches you would find a hand-written note from kento complimenting you. in spite of being a full-time salaryman, kento would call you during his lunch break to talk to you and listen as you complain about your coworkers. he loves hearing your voice. at night, just before your head hits the pillow he would kiss your forehead and wish you a good night's rest. kento can be quite the charming man when it comes to you.

— choso: gift giving

choso... precious choso. he likes to shower you with gifts as a way to show his undying love and appreciation for you. if you mention that you like something, but you couldn't get it, best believe it will be either on your doorstep or in your hand within the next day. when he sees you eyeing something in the store for even a second, choso will buy it for you. he won't take any "no's", "stops", or returning the item back. choso bought it FOR you. if you return any of his gifts it will hurt his feelings and he'll think you don't love him. so be careful when you are trying to let choso know not to get you gifts.

letter from demi: i have adopted a new style of how i do... idk what you call these blurbs? headcanons? idk. anyways im changing some things up with how my posts are... styled. i hope the work and the way it is made looks good! lmk what you think babes!

#gojo x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #choso

1K notes · View notes

shuichi-sama · 18 days

Text

to heal with you.

park jongseong x reader, park sunghoon x reader (one sided)

description: jay offers to save you from the clutches of your one sided love with your best friend, park sunghoon.

warnings: angst, unrequited love, feeling of unworthiness, cheating, idk what else.

note: lower case intended! not really proof read, bad case of bad writing, sorry! i’m a sucker for angst especially unrequited love!

_________________________________________________

“i could never tell him.” you declare to jay, who’s rubbing circles on your back to soothe your shattering heart.

you were madly in love with one of your best friend, park sunghoon, but as luck would have it those feelings weren’t reciprocated. how’d you know? it was plainly obvious. sunghoon seats a couple of tables away in the cafeteria with the girl who captivates his heart in ways you wish you could but would never.

she was everything you could never amount to be. beautiful, smart, confident, outgoing, popular, and the worse thing? the apple of sunghoon’s eyes. he truly could never see a flaw within her, not like she had one to begin with.

you on the other hand? not so much. considering yourself average in the looks department, you manage to pass classes but nothing worthy of an academic award or appraisals from those around you. you were timid, your friend only knowing of your playful personality. popularity? you knew it through sunghoon and your mutual friends, though you were never the talk of bathroom gossip.

and you certainly weren’t the apple to sunghoon’s eyes, at least not anymore like when you were kids.

you didn’t lack in the importance of his life, at least you wishfully hoped. however you currently weren’t the focus of it either, no matter how heart broken and live-less you seem to become these past few weeks, seeping worry each of your mutual friends, much like park jongseong who’s search every way to console your raging emotions but falling short no matter how hard he tried.

you know he wishes to say something to put a bandaid over your heart, but words could only do so much. you were still grateful though, his attempt never going unnoticed by you.

you were truly thankful for jay, he was your pillar these days holding you up through this stage in life, caught between the cross road of wanting to ruin your friendship with sunghoon or living with the pain of knowing he would never be yours. you knew as much as the next person, the willingness to swallow the words “i love you” like they were glass of water, only for it to turn in to needles at your throat.

“do you want me to try to bring him here? i know how much it’s bothering you seeing him there and not here.” jay tries ways to stop your heart from breaking everyday, even if it meant putting a wedge on his other friends romantic pursuit for another girl that wasn’t, y/n.

“no, there’s no use anyways, it would be pointless.” you explain, playing with the tips of your fingers in a circular motion. “you’d just be wasting your energy, only to come back empty handed.”

“i could make up and excuse, maybe tell him you’re not feeling good? we could even take you to the nurse office and pretend your sick.” jay was sweet enough to paint a scenario and plant a white lie just for your cause. you shook your head. you didn’t want to get Jay caught up in a lie, no matter how white it may be. you simply knew the outcome, and have to live with it.

“he won’t trust me.”

“yes, he will,he’s your best friend he would always come to you.” jay exclaims trying to persuade you.

“yea?” you scoff recalling memories of just a week ago, when you began to understand that sunghoon’s priorities had change enough to forget about you on an a very important day. “what kind of best friend, forgets their friendship anniversary celebration after months of planning.”

“no call, no text, no nothing.” your fingers thread through your hair in exhaustion from the painful memories of that night. you cried so much that night enough to swim in a river of your tears. “he wanted to finally teach me how to ice skate that day so I waited at the ice rink. At first i thought he was late but then 10 minutes turned into 30 and 30 turned into an hour.”

“I didn’t want to think he bailed on me, because i didn’t believe sunghoon would be capable of forgetting such an important day for the both of us, you know? so you know what i did?”

jay could feel his own rage of emotions as you continue to explain. he didn’t really want to hear the rest of it not because he feels for you, his heart hurts for you, if only it could burn for you instead, maybe then he could ease your pain as he tells you to finish your story.

“i kept waiting for two hours. my thumbs were frozen at that point. even after waiting i fooled myself to think he was still late and would show up that evening to eat. i went to the restaurant we made a reservation at. i had been telling sunghoon about it for quite a while now, he must have been grown tired of me because he reserved it despite how pricey it was. but in the end he never showed.”

“i had dinner alone that night, .” you laughed at your ridiculousness. “how stupid is that right?”

jay shook his head. “it’s not stupid at all.”

you continue, story not even remotely close to finished. “we also made plans to go get ice cream, i probably would have fooled myself to go there too if it hadn’t started raining.” and as if luck had it that night, you hadn’t brought an umbrella either. “i couldn’t believe sunghoon had forgotten, i was worried something had happened. not once did he call or text me back so i walk to his house to make sure he was okay.”

you choke back a sob wanting to escape your lips. “and when i got to his place, i saw him through his window, seating at the kitchen counter with, sana.”

finally you broke down, even in an area full of

students you couldn’t hold back anymore. your heart and brain clacking, one asking to let it all out, the other demanding to hold it back in. the throbbing feelings becoming to much, you heart winning the internal war that going on within. “he should’ve seen the way he was looking at her, jay. he looked so happy and my heart breaks knowing I could never be that kind of happiness for him.”

jay turns you around, his arms enclosing you around his. his hands coursing through your hair, pushing you into the crock his neck as you weep into it, snot and hot tears dampened the white of his shirt. jay didn’t care though.

“i ran home that night in the rain, i got sick the following day. the scab on my knee reminds me of the pain i felt that night.”

he had seen the bruising on your leg after you told him about a fall you had the previous night. jay knew too well of your sickness. he had taken care of you, being the one to bring you medicine and hot homemade soup, draped a cool towel on your forehead for your fever. though he hadn’t known the reason behind you being sick, thinking it had been nothing but a common flu.

jay can only pat your head, tears slowing down their aggression but not showing any sign of stopping only dry heaving being the aggravator. “i hate this so much, jay. i can’t no more. i truly wish i never knew love, why waste my time on something i dont deserve? maybe then i would be happy.”

jay becomes angry, but he doesn’t try to show it on his face, glossing it over with a look of sternness yet concern as he pulls you away so you can stare at his face. “hey, hey, hey, don’t ever say that okay!”

your eyes rim red, you hold his gaze. his hands cupping your cheeks making it impossible to look away if you wanted to, the warmness of his eyes don’t let you go. “don’t ever say you don’t deserve to be loved, the only people who don’t deserve any type of love are criminals and bad people, okay?

he wipes his thumbs on your cheek catching trailing tears. “just because someone isn’t in love with you right now doesn’t mean there won’t be somebody is the future, okay?”

“you are a beautiful, amazing, kind, quirky, shy and a great friend, so many lovable qualities and anyone would be lucky to be in love with you.” jay praising you warms the coldest parts of your heart, melting the ice that had built around it.

you sniffled. “but sunghoon won’t ever be sunghoon.”

jay turns to look at sunghoon, his soft stare hardening just at a glance of his friend for lacking a seventh sense. how could he not see what was right in front of him? he turns back to you, eyes soft once again. “sunghoon is too blind to see what’s in front of him, baby.”

“it just hurts, jay, i want this feeling to be gone.” you clench what anyone would assume is your sweater, though the initials, P.S.H, writing on the tag on the back of your neck says otherwise. “i’ve tried to get rid of it, this dark feeling.”

“i know, baby, i know.” jay can only sigh.

“sunoo said to try dating even if i don’t have an interest in them, so i’ve gone on dates, countless of them.”

“even if i don’t have any feelings for them i try hoping that these feelings for sunghoon would go away. but how can i date someone i don’t even know? let alone if i’m not interested in them? it would be different if i at least knew them, you know? at least i would be comfortable around them. i can’t even think of a second date, one the first one isn’t even finish.”

you sigh for the infinite time this week. it’s like an bad re-occurring habit of yours lately, it wasn’t healthy in the slightest. “I’m just exhausted, tired of giving my time of day to guys who don’t even truly try to get to know me, most of them are just guys trying to get into my pants at the end of the day.”

“sorry, i’m drama dumping on you again, jay you must be so tired of me.” your head wants to hang lose, but his hands prevent you from doing so.

jay shakes his head no. “no, baby, i could never grow tired of you, y/n.”

the smile you flash him genuine, but it doesn’t quite your eyes. “thank you jay, for always being there for me.”

“I’ll always help you, y/n. so let me help you again.”

“what do you mean?” You asked confused.

“date me, y/n.” just as hot tears ascend on your face yet again, they are halted by his words.

at first, jay had caught himself of guard with his own words but as he thinks about it in his head, it only seems to makes more sense.

if there was someone else yearning for your happiness, other than you, was jay. you meant a great deal to him as a friend so he though, if not him than who to help you move on?

“what? jay, are you listening to yourself? you know i like sunghoon.” bewilderment written all over your face.

yes, he knows you didn’t have to explain it to him. “i know you do, but it’s like you said, if you only try with someone you knew you would feel more comfortable right? you could move on.”

you shook your head, it being incapable of wrapping itself around jay’s idea. “jay, you don’t even like me that.”

“i know, it doesn’t mean i can’t learn to.”

your body grows frigid and jay can feel it in the palm of his hands cupping your cheek. you’re in utter disbelief at his words. providing that jay is one of your closest friend, now more than ever, if you hadn’t known him you would assuming the boy was joking with you.

his aura being intimidating and so handsome you’d think he’d be some type of playboy. he was the complete opposite of what he seemed. the definition of looks like he could kill is you, is a cinnamon roll. a very sweet one at that. you’d gain more than one cavity.

aside from sweet, handsome, he was kind, respect, a balance between outgoing and introverted when need be. attentive to every needs, including that of his friends and family, as of lately yours. In the dictionary, under the word perfect and boyfriend, you would be sure to find his name writing in bold letter, PARK JONGSEONG. You were sure of it, but would you be willing to risk this safety net of friendship you have with Jay just for your own benefit, to be able to move on from this unrequited love?

you’re quiet state allows jay to perceive your face longer, dried tears on your face, your mascara smudge at the corner of your eyes. he wipes his fingers over it, wiping it clean to the best of his ability. he doesn’t relent on his words to convince you.

“if it’s any concelation, im doing this for myself too.” your head tilts, in question, unsure of what benefit he could get out of courting you. entertainment? No way, never. jay wasn’t like that, he would never. from what jay has told you, when he dates, he dates to commit.

“i haven’t told you this, you’ve probably heard know i haven’t dated anyone in about a year.” jay explains.

jay was quite popular among school, female and male crowd alike. rumors of jay being single ropes plenty of beautiful people to his feet, but he never paid any mind to any of them even after a year when the rumors of him being single began to spread. “i had a girlfriend, we were together for about three years, we were young but i truly thought she was the one. i even started to consider marriage just fresh out of high school, stupid I know right?” you shake your head no.

jay chuckles recalling his last memories of his last relationship and the scar they left within him. “well I thought I was because after giving her three years of my time, i found her sleeping with my own brother.”

your heart breaks all over again, this time not for sunghoon but for the man in front of you, park jongseong. “they were seeing each other behind my back for a whole year.”

to say you were discombobulated at the revelation would be an understatement. no words could describe just how muddled you felt at the idea of someone cheating on jay. he who was loyal, a kind soul, emotionally available, a good listener, honest, respectful every trait that you could think of that makes a boyfriend the greenest of green flags. if anyone deserved happiness and love it was him.

“what? jay-“ you try to speak, to comfort, console him like he has done with you plenty of time’s but he stops you. he has had plenty of time to mourn relationship that only brought him pain, but he still lives with the scars. maybe it was time for a change, to find someone he could share not only his troubles but also his ideas of love.

“let me finish please.” he pleads, so you let him. “i was angry, i hated them, for doing this to me, for lying, breaking my heart.”

“i hated myself for that matter. i let myself love so hard that i became blind to see the signs that were right in front of me. i hated myself for wasting those three years on her.” as he incriminates himself you want to stop him becoming angry at his words, yet respecting his wishes. your eyes never lose contact with his, not even for a second. “but no matter how much i think back to it i would still do it all over again because i learned that i’m worthy of love and that i deserve the purest form of it. i simply hadn’t found the perfect person who could possibly understand me, til i found you.”

“i have a lot of love to give, just like you, baby, so give me yours and i’ll give you mine. and then maybe we can learn to love each other and heal from these scars we have together.”

these revelations show you a jay you had never known. he was always the life of the party a smile gracing his intricate details, carrying himself with confidence and living life gracefully.

your heart hurts him, like his hurts for you.

“jay-“ your throat is hoarse and you lick your lips dry lips wet to talk. “i just don’t want you to feel like i’m pressuring you into this. i know I’m hurting now but it’s not enough for me to say yes to force you into a relationship that may come from nothing, you’d waste your time trying to learn to love me, what if our feelings never change?”

“then at least we can say we tried.” he responds. “you’re not pressuring me. and you’re never a waste of time to me, y/n, you never are.” he gives you a tight smile on his.

jay knew the possibility of nothing coming out of them dating, he also understood of the risk of something actually coming out of it- what if only one of them truly falls in love, what if they both fell in love with each other other but weren’t each others happy ending in the long run? so many possibilities were endless. who were they not to try though? weren’t you both already suffering from heart break? what’s one more?

“i know something could possibly not come out of it, or something possibly could, many possibilities. i’m willing to try, y/n, the question is are you?”

your line of thought is intent of not risking a friendship. a relationship formed of similar characteristics of failed love, one of disloyalty, another of unrequited love, could this one also end in failure?

sharing heart break caused by important people in their lives, jay and you, found solace and support from each other. truly who were you to say no? why not try to mend two heart that ache to be loved similarly. both understanding of the agony of those who were too blind to see what was right in front of them, two people full of love and ready to serve it on a silver platter only to be taken for granted.

you weren’t sure of the future, could jay be your happy ending? could you be his? you’d never know unless you tried.

“okay.” you agreed, not yielding to your brain or your heart, instead you choose to listen to the man in front of you who’s trusting you with his own.

“yea?” he asks for confirmation, a feeling of liberation already settling in. jay knew he deserved love, now he just had to show you deserved it too.

“yes, let’s try together.” you reassure him. not believing you were worthy of love, you still don’t but you would gladly learn from him and in return you would give him the love he seeks.

“yes, let’s try together.”

jay smiles. it’s soft on his features, reassuring that from now on, his purpose was to make you happy and you him.

he leads your turned body forward, showering your body in his comfort without much effort. his arms drape just tight enough to support your body closely, like you could let go any moment, take back your word and he would let you. silence lingers around you only the chattering of students around the campus and the full spring breeze kissing the dampness of your face.

you break the quietude. the silence overbearing your already intrusive thoughts. Coming back in full circle rubbing your back much like before, this time not of sadness but of hope to possibly seeing a happy you in the near future. jay listens to your concerns keenly, precisely as the beginning of it all, the day you officially opened to anyone aside from your girl-friends about sunghoon and the undying love you feel for him.

“i’m scared, jay. what if I waver as soon as I see him?” you stay attached together.

he knew it would be tough, your situations being different from his. jay’s ex-girlfriend at a different side of town while sunghoon roams the same halls as you, the both of you sharing the same mutual friends, you house filled with memories with him.

your love for sunghoon is fresh. it runs deeps into your heart, like a fresh wound that if submerged under water it stings. even after it resurface, the feelings lingers and prolongs til it turns into a scab during it’s absence. only for it to peel off at his appearance, the stinging feeling being relived all over again til it finally heals after a long time.

jay back tracks on his words, before he could spill them. eyes hardening at the movement he follows. his heart dropping, he doesn’t let it deter him. his fingers stroke soft trails down your soft strands.

“don’t worry, i got you.” he says, putting you at ease with his words.

he is relieved your back is turned. the very man that haunts every fiber of your body by his mere presence is getting up from the very table he had perched himself for the past hour, chatting away with the crowd among it, attentively engaging with the girl, you have become envious off, itching to be in her spot next to sunghoon.

sunghoon makes his way to your direction. jay avoids making any eye contact by pulling away from you taking your face in his hands again. your cheeks and eyes puffed out from your crying, red tainting the rounded corners of your face.

sunghoon greets passers-by who recognize him drawing nearer to your table causing jay heart to quicken at an ungodly rate, they meet eyes and sunghoon waves. heart torn between his actions and his words.

he’s told you he’s got you, he won’t be letting you down. “do you trust me?”

trust, faith, reliance words you could associate with jay. you’d trust him with your life and that was a given. never challenging you to question his choices and action, today wouldn’t be any different from the rest.

it only takes a nod for jay to decide.

his dark eyes cast downward starting at your eyes, to the tip your nose and ending at your lips. they are pouty, the balm you glossed over previously nowhere in sight. jay can’t help but imagine his lips on yours. the thought of intimacy by placing a kiss on them thrills him, not having the pleasure to feel the lips of another in so long after his last breakup. just the idea feels foreign to him, nonetheless nervousness courses the blue of his veins.

he knew there would be no turning back after this. lines would be crossed, and risks will be taken. in spite of his racing thoughts and his palpating heart, he finds himself leaning forward, eyes fluttering close, to kiss you.

the breaths you had taken before stolen by his sudden action. his warm and soft lips tender on your own, lips unmoving. you didn’t pull away, and hyper aware of the closeness of his face, you practically count the short lashes of his eyes.

withdrawing himself away from you, his eyes open to look into yours that were staring right back at him. left speechless, you were unaware of the figure standing not even 3 steps away.

it wasn’t long til you look away bashfully, looking anywhere but jay. only then noticing sunghoon, who had witness the kiss that had just been exchange by the both of you. your heart that was previously unsettling, thumping against your ears and chest because of jay, now replaced by a sinking feeling to your stomach at the presence of sunghoon.

his silence was louder than any words given that moment.

sunghoon eyes dances between the both you. a perplexing feeling wrapping around his throat and choking him of his words.

to many questions plague the tip of his tongue.

when did you become so close with jay? were you both dating now? why didn’t he know? why didn’t you ever tell him? have you been blowing him off because of jay this whole time? if he grew angry at the thought, he didn’t show it. he looks directly at you noticing your quiet demeanor.

“hey, hoon.” the sound of jay’s voice reaching his ears pulls him from he’s endless thought’s, noticing just how quiet he was since he planted himself in front of the table you and jay occupied together.

“hey, uh” sunghoon didn’t even know what to say, so he reframes from saying anything only asking the obvious questions he should be asking. “so, the two of you?”

“yea.” jay glances at you, eyes still glued on sunghoon figure. he turns back to sunghoon, hiding his true feelings behind a plastic shy smile. “we are together.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” he looks at you for an answer, but you remain voiceless. jay understands the difficulty you are in. it’s as if you were in the spotlight of a stage and someone just threw cold water on you.

jay take’s it upon himself to answer sunghoon instead. “i guess can say today is day one.”

“oh, congratulations.” is the only thing sunghoon can think to say, his head still trapped in limbo trying to make sense of everything. he pushes it to the back of his head, he’s two best friend dating, he should be happy for them, he was.

sunghoon beams a smile at you both. “really guys, i’m happy for you, congrats.”

those words were the last words to your heart into a million pieces. but you were thankful for them. allowing you to close the chapter that was park sunghoon, and opening a brand new one with park jongseong.

jay who’s hand grasps your own now, gives it a small squeeze, telling you he was by your. giving you the courage you desperately needed.

you lean into jay, grabbing his hand to pull his arm flushed against your front one hand still entwined with his, you fake it with a smile. “thank you, hoonie, i really needed to hear you say that.”

369 notes · View notes

tender-rosiey · 9 months

Note

hiii! can i request for fyodor, dazai, and ranpo hcs about "the romantic things they would do to win your heart" ty!

“I WANT YOUR LOVE”

— how dazai, fyodor and chuuya try to win your heart

a/n: i went through the five stages of grief writing this UHOFHO also sorry I didn't include ranpo; I hope you like it nonetheless <3 up next is husband!sukuna

OSAMU DAZAI:

so, I wouldn’t say extravagant BUT I would say that it is pretty loud

like gives you a huge bouquet in front of literally everyone kind of loud

also literally shouts your name whenever he sees you, “AHH BELLADONNA, MY BEAUTIFUL Y/N HOW GORGEOUS YOU LOOK TODAY!”

the way he brightens up in your presence is also so obvious like eugh take your lovesick self away bro

he also has a special sixth sense that tells him that you’re close by

when he does get to you, he literally showers you with affection

also, you know when he ditches meetings? he would literally attend them just to be with you, if you’re there that is

same case is when he is running away from kunikida, my man chooses to live his last moments gazing at your beauty and then happily suffer kunikida’s wrath

exhibit a:

“atsushi, have you seen dazai?” kunikida asked as he and atsushi patrolled the streets.

atsushi shook his head, but quickly went to get you, who was busy finishing the taiyaki you got as a treat for yourself after a day of hard work.

however, looks like this travail won’t end so you look up at both of them and tilt your head lightly, “do you guys need something?”

atsushi doesn’t answer, but instead inhales deeply and screams, “DAZAI-SAN, Y/N IS HERE!” which you could bet that the entirety of the city heard.

it’s quiet for a while, but then you hear the sound of rapid steps and panting. the moment you look back, you’re tackled by the bandaged man who merely chirps a happy ‘belladonna!’ as the both of you land on the ground.

“here he is, kunikida-san,” atsushi says with a smile and kunikida nods thoughtfully then proceeds to scribble something in his notebook.

you do hear, amidst getting yourself squashed in a hug by dazai, kunikida mumbling something along the lines of “scream ‘y/n is here’ so dazai can appear”.

he literally doesn’t try to hide it, but that’s like in the very beginning of him falling for you

when he realizes that ‘crap it's serious’ and that he really did fall for someone

I feel like his way of trying to win your heart will change to be much more intimate and quieter

like he is still loud and chaotic on daily basis, of course

but you will find yourself sharing a lot of quiet moments where you just bask in each other’s presence

he gets protective as well, but like people can tell he IS being protective, but YOU can’t

not because you’re dumb, oblivious or anything, it’s just that dazai doesn’t want to make you feel like your relationship changed and low-key doesn’t want to make it awkward

a protective that makes you go ‘what’s wrong with dazai’ and makes the other person go ‘I need to run’

I also see him still getting you bouquets, but they will be accompanied with small notes

they could be like the following:

“you are so beautiful that I swoon for you.”

“I hope your day was as lovely as you are.”

“how can someone be this effortlessly gorgeous?”

of course, they still include comical ones

“I accidentally knocked the tomato soup on kunikida’s pants yesterday, and his face was as red as said soup from anger. you could say that ‘the time of the month’ was a bit harsh on him ;)”

I also feel like he will try to initiate conversations a lot more (idk how because like y’all already talked A LOT)

It’s just that he becomes curious about what you think of everything and purely wants to know more about you, your views in life and whatnot

you could be talking about the silliest things and he would still be so interested and fully indulge you

I see him also sharing with you places with beautiful scenery that he often goes to; it’s just so intimate and he WANTS to make you know that you’re special

he jokes and still flirts loudly, but there are quiet moments because he wants you to understand that you having a hold on his heart is no joke

FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:

hm, it’s been a while since I wrote for him

so remember how I said dazai is kind of subtle in showing his genuine interest?

well, with fyodor you can’t even tell whether he changed or not

it’s just a normal everyday fyodor

BUT there some stuff he does extra

he gets protective, but just a little

so before, he used to glare at anyone who gets near you to hurt you which makes them quickly stop in their tracks, now he just instantly grabs their hand and threatens to kill them

another thing I see him doing is like taking you to places that he finds amusement in or like enjoys lol

that’s to show you off or show you a part of him in a more obvious way

he wants to show you his interests and see if they appeal to you as well or not

if they don’t then fak you, I mean then it’s fine cause variety is key

“fyodor.”

“yes?”

“couldn’t we go to a more entertaining place?” you inquire as you sip your drink and stare at the man who got you here in the first place.

fyodor smirks lightly, “whatever do you mean? this is highly entertaining.”

“1 year olds eating chess pieces is not my kind of entertainment, but okay.”

literally does stuff like this for giggles and his actual entertainment

loves messing with you but like lowkey

I also see him starting to compliment you more, like just smol compliments and sometimes you even have to read between the lines to get it

but sometimes he doesn’t even try to hide it

like nikolai could be doing god knows what, but just know it’s chaotic and sigma is trying to stop him but it just results in more chaos

and fyodor would just sigh and say something along the lines of “truly, an intelligence similar to y/n’s must be hard to achieve especially for you two.”

nikolai just laughs a laugh that screams bro stfu

sigma is just offend cause like why insult me while flirting with y/n?? tf did I do???

I also think that he will be more recognizing or acknowledging of your talents?

like with fyodor, I think the biggest sign of him liking you is accepting you as an equal and not treating you as a pawn or someone less than him

exhibit a:

“fyodor, shouldn’t this arrangement be discussed without someone like her present?” the man sneers as he looks you up and down, “she doesn’t seem trustworthy nor intelligent enough to keep up with our conversations.”

you hold back from responding and merely look at fyodor, who looks at the man in silence. he clears his throat lightly after he sips some tea and speaks up, “my apologies, but if anyone lacks in intelligence then it’s certainly you.”

both your eyes and the man’s widen at fyodor’s reply; the man is angered and he stands up abruptly, “how dare you say that?! It is more than obvious that I possess more intelligence than your subordinate here!”

fyodor raises an eyebrow in inquiry, “who said that she is my subordinate?”

the man is confused, and so are you, but fyodor pays no mind as he continues, “about the trust part, the only reason you’re going to do your end of the deal is because of the information I hold against you,” a smirk takes its place on fyodor’s lips, “meanwhile, her, I can give her a knife and she wouldn’t stab me, even in a million years.”

lmao if that ain’t down bad and blindly in love then idk

also, as we all must’ve guessed: he is pretty classic in terms of ‘flirting’ with you

but I do see him gifting you a rose of some sort and saying a smartass line like “even with its thorns, the rose is considered a sign of love and romance; is that to imply the hardships that come with loving someone?—“

boy shut yo ass and give me the damn flower

CHUUYA NAKAHARA:

chuuya is someone really honest so I think he will be really obvious and clear about wanting to win your heart

albeit a bit on the tsundere side sometimes but oh well

it’s still a lot more open that the others I have mentioned and feels very genuine

I also believe that he would want you to know that he likes you

plus I don’t think he can hide it well anyway

so he gets teased by everyone along with yourself

“ooo, who caught the heart of our badass mafia executive?”

and he would just grumble, “wow, i wonder who.”

of course, it’s a given that he would buy you souvenirs and gifts cause HEYYYY YOU DESERVE THE BEST

exhibit a:

“y/n, I need to give you something!”

you perk up at the voice and smile at chuuya, “yeah?”

he looks you in the eye for a moment before grumbling, face a soft hue of pink, and getting out the gift he got and placing it on your desk.

“aww, chuuya, you shouldn’t have!”

he crosses his arms and looks to the side, cheeks burning slightly, “yeah yeah, but I wanted to get you something.”

the smile never leaves your face and instead gets bigger as you see what’s inside. the thing about chuuya’s gifts is that they are always thoughtful.

“do you…like it?” you hear him mumble softly and just to hug him tightly.

“thank you so much! it’s amazing! I really love it!”

he stumbles over his words before yelling, obviously flustered, “t-that’s good! but you don’t have to hug me!”

“you don’t want me to?” you ask, slightly sad and chuuya wants to kick himself for making you like that.

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT EITHER!”

lmao, I love the guy

when you guys do get into a relationship, he is a lot less shy and open for affection but we are still not there yet hehe

something to add is that he also loves taking you anywhere you like

like either drive you there with his very cool motorcycle or you guys hanging out at some place

and like the places are…very extravagant to say the least

“so what do you think of the place?”

“chuuya, the walls are painted gold.”

“and?”

“chuuya, the fountain is dripping gold.”

“you don’t deserve anything less.”

Idk about you guys but I also think chuuya is a huge tease when he wants just not as horribly or as big as dazai

like just light teasing in general but it’s still so flustering; they’re things like:

“did the doll forget her keys again?”

“poor baby, want me to kiss it for you?” (but a lot less derogatory than when he said it to dazai 🤡; he really does want to kiss the pain away for you <33)

chuuya is rather protective by default so I feel like that won’t change, maybe amplified? but you can’t tell the difference because chuuya was always willing to beat some ass anyway

I see him being pretty attentive to your needs as well

like he has a bottle of water for you ready and maybe some food along with any personal essentials. he is a little grumpy when giving it to you, but it’s just to mask how nervous he is because of your smile

another thing, i think he does is write you letters

and they most of the time have poems? since you had told him about how he somehow (he did take offense to the word) has a good way with words

he also loves getting praised by you so it’s worth it even if it makes him a bit shy

now to end this on a cute note, the beginning phase of his confession included one of his poems accompanied with a rose

and its last lines were:

“once I believed love poems were foolish yet now I do nothing but dream about love”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @waosobii

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

3K notes · View notes

seetangus · 2 months

Note

Oh how about: Reader loving Azula throughout her mental health crisis and still visiting her in the asylum. So, as she heals, she realizes how much she loves the Reader… and maybe through the story, you could see her reactions to certain things like if R talked about another girl like Ty Lee or something, Azula would feel jelly but doesn’t understand why or if R talks about Zuko she may think she’d like Zuko more like their mother…

idk but it’s sounds fun and I know you are awesome at writing so I bet it’ll be good!

Healing - Azula x reader

[Masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, no warnings

1.897 words, I hope you like it! :)

The metal door closed audibly, its movement making the torches close to it flicker. They barely spent enough light to make things visible in the cell. Now you two were alone.

Azula sat in front of you, tied to a metal chair in a straitjacket. It was a humiliating treatment for a princess, you thought. Still, your heart felt great relief from seeing her again after several months of waiting. It had been difficult to convince the new fire lord Zuko and his comrades to let you visit Azula, as you were considered dangerous due to your loyalty to princess Azula that you had maintained even during the last days of the war. But here you were, finally seeing her, the one your heart ached for, again.

“Hello Azula. I am happy to see you again.”, you said truthfully but very quietly. You did not dare asking her how she felt. Seeing Azula, who had always been so confident and strong in a weak and broken state like this intimidated you.

You could not make out what Azula was thinking. You had been told that she had for some time behaved like a raving maniac, screaming and trying to attack anyone who came close to her. But that phase seemed to be over now. It was obvious Azula was mentally still in a very precarious situation, but right now she was rather calm. At least it seemed like she was.

“What are you doing here, y/n.”, she asked. Your heart jumped at hearing her voice, even if it sounded differently than before. What she said did not sound like a question, but you still answered: “I wanted to see you.” Quieter, you added: “Maybe you need someone to talk to.”

A small silence followed. You could tell that Azula was, even if it had been months, still very stressed and angry about her defeat against Zuko. Still, with a heartwarming effort, Azula tried to initiate a peaceful conversation by asking you about the current situation of the fire nation and other wide-ranging topics. You happily answered all her questions. The conversation got more concrete when she asked about her old friends. Ty Lee, Mai, Iroh and even her brother Zuko. All the ones that had betrayed her. You told about their new positions and how they behaved. You also told her that, as you had remained in your position in the royal palace even after the changing of the fire lord, you were somehow reconnecting with some of them, even if it went slowly.

While listening to you, Azula increasingly looked lost. You would have expected her to be angry at the traitors taking her place in the hierarchy of the fire nation, but she seemed to worry about something entirely different. Nevertheless you talked with eachother until the visiting time was over and the guards ordered you to leave. You also realised your eyes hurt because of the dim light in the cell - it must be painful for Azula to stay here all day.

Having left her cell, a guard told you that they had feared for the worst and were surprised at how calm Azula had been with you. You couldn’t imagine why that was either.

< • ◇ • >

A few weeks passed until your next visit. In that time Azula had changed much; you were told she was still a bit unpredictable, but her violent outbursts had ended completely and she was overall more stable. That had led to the guards daring to attach extra torches to the walls of her cell, finally making the room brighter so your eyes didn’t hurt anymore. The whole atmosphere was different this visit, it was less depressing.

This time you greeted her a bit more confidently and with a smile. It would have been hard not to smile when seeing your loved one feel better. She also looked better than last time - her hair looked less messy and she did not have bags under her eyes. You were genuinely happy it went uphill with her, and you didn’t hide it:

“Hello Azula, you look beautiful today!”

Your warm greeting seemed to have catched Azula off guard; you could see she hesitated a bit before answering, and you even saw her blush a bit, but surely it was only the warm light of the torches combined with your own feelings that made you imagine it. Azula wouldn’t blush. Once Azula answered though, she did so with her old attitude: “Of course I look good, y/n. Did you expect me not to?”

That might not have been the most welcoming and thankful answer she could have given, but at least it proved she really felt better, more like back when she wasn’t here. Ah, you couldn’t wait for when she would boss you around and insult anyone else again like in the good ol’ days.

But enough of the dreaming, back to reality! Azula simply made you tell her anything that you thought might interest her. She said she TRUSTED you on choosing the right topics. That was obviously a very unusual thing for her to say but you took it as a compliment and started speaking, mostly about how things changed under the rule of her brother and how the people she knew behaved. Every time you spoke about Ty Lee or Mai you could see her eyebrows furrow and she did not comment again until you changed topics. When you mentioned that Mai and Zuko were a couple, her whole face lit up and she interrupted you, exclaiming: “Ha! That’s fantastic! Isn’t it great, y/n?” You agreed but Azula suddenly feeling happy for her brother genuinely confused you.

Anyhow, Azula soon seemed to become annoyed by the things you told her about the people she knew. After some time she simply cut you off and said: “Yes yes uncle Iroh’s new tea shop is interesting and I should care but I want you to tell me more about yourself.” At first, you were dumbfounded, but since she seemed to really be interested (and also since it was impossible not to fulfill any request of hers anyways), you talked about yourself for the rest of your visit.

Some time later, the guards opened the door and told you to leave. You had already said good-bye to Azula and turned to go away, but she suddenly made a harsh move with her head, loosening a few strands of her hair that now dangled down. “Oh y/n, before you leave, would you be so kind and fix this?”, she purred with unusual kindness, inevitably making you feel butterflies.

Hesitantly, you turned around and lifted your hand to her beautiful hair, gently brushing it back into place. She just smirked triumphantly and let you leave. You couldn’t put into words how heavenly you had felt that moment, despite the stares of the guards.

After you were gone, Azula thought about what had happened. Why had she done this. Making her hair messy on purpose to ask you to fix it. Not that it hadn’t felt good, feeling human touch after months of deprivation had actually felt awesome, she just genuinely did not know why she had suddenly felt the need to get your attention. And why did she feel so hurt when you talked about Ty Lee or Mai? She did not like not knowing the answer to something, so she was determined to get it the next time you visited.

< • ◇ • >

You did not let Azula wait for long. As quickly as the harsh regulations of the Asylum allowed, you returned. According to the guards, who prepared you for the visit, Azula had been behaving much better: there had been no angry outbursts or attempts to harm anyone at all since your last visit.

Luckily for Azula, her good behaviour had led to an even greater improvement in the furnishing of her cell: the torches had been replaced with lanterns who emitted a brightness that somewhat resembled daylight, making it much more bearable to stay in her cell.

“How do you feel, Azula?”

“I’m well, y/n. Actually, it is very relieving that you are here now, because I can finally ask you some very important questions.”

Naturally, Azula saying your name made you feel butterflies. She sounded almost like her old self again. “I’m happy to answer anything you ask me.”, you assured, excited about what questions she could have for you. You looked at her expectantly.

She also only looked at you instead of asking questions. Well, she did not just ‘look’, she seemed to have… found something on you that interested her very much. More than any question she could ask you.

“Your eyes look very happy, y/n.”, she suddenly said.

You had not been prepared for that. Your eyes widened, making Azula grin. It was not her usual grin, though. It seemed like this grin was not fueled by self-absorption and superiority as it had been until now, but rather Azula seemed to be genuinely happy, feeling real joy. You had never seen that on her before, so naturally you were very happy for her! And for yourself, for being able to witness such a beautiful moment and being part of it.

“Oh I wish the visits weren’t this short.”, Azula said, her gaze still venturing in the depth of your eyes. You were a bit confused. “Azula, the visit has just started - we have plenty of time. Also, I will come back soon! As soon as possible!”, you quickly assured.

Azula tried getting closer to you, but she was restrained by her chains. You had both almost forgotten about them. “Y/n, I do not only want to be with you during visits.”

You were speechless. All your blood was gathering in your head and your voice decided this would be a good moment to give up. “A-azula … I want to see you more often too…” you mustered up all the courage you had. “In fact”, you gulped, “I feel pained in every moment we are separated from eachother.”

Azula smirked and lifted her nose up, making her look as powerful as before; she was clearly enjoying you being flustered. But there was something different, something new in her eyes. Something that had not been there a few months ago, and that had grown each time you visited her.

“You like me, y/n, don’t you?”

Azula lowered her head, and it seemed like there even was a bit of worry or insecurity in her voice when she asked again: “You do, right?”

“Yes Azula, I do.”

You wanted to hug her, caress her and hold her close, but knowing that the guards would rush in and restrain you, it was better to remain sitting. You did not hold back expressing your affection verbally, though.

Azula was, like always, the first one to regain her composure, and you tried to do so as well, although it was not easy.

“Well, it’s settled then.", Azula said.

“... What’s settled?”, you asked, unsure of what she meant.

“When I get out of here,'' Azula answered, “I will arrange that we see eachother much more often than we currently do and that the royal family welcomes a new member. And now tell me again how much you love me, y/n.”

#azula x reader #atla #atla x reader #azula #azula x y/n #atla azula #azula avatar #azula x gn reader #x reader #avatar imagine #avatar #avatar the last airbender #character x you #character x reader #x y/n #x you

549 notes · View notes