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kurooandkenmasslut · 1 year

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TENGEN UZUI X WIVES X PREGNANT!READER !!

Cake!

Notes: s/n means 'sons name'

"Don't you dare move a muscle (name)!" Tengen, your husband called. He has been keeping his eyes on you for the past 8 months, especially since you were expecting in a few days. You didn't cook like you always did with hinatsuru, your co-wife, and cooking for others seemed like it was her and your kinda thing.

Hinatsuru told you to lay down and not to stand to hurt your 'poor legs.'

"Hina, what are you making for dinner? Im kinda cravin- argh-" "(name), are you okay?" "(NAME)!" your co-wife called you in alarm, suma, asking if you were okay, even though it was painfully obvious that you were indeed not okay since your hand was gripping on tightly onto the couch and sweat dripping down your temple.

"I'll call tengen! TENGEN!!!" suma screamed, but then got hit on the head by your co-wife, makio, and told her to stop yelling and to just go get him. Tengen, his presence known as the 'Sound Hashira/Pillar' had heard your grunt of pain from a mile away and has been running down the stairs quickly.

"U-uhm guys? I-I think.." you stammered. It was happening. You were gonna give birth to you, tengen and your wives baby. Tengen put his arms under your legs and his other arm on your back. "Girls, I have to take her to the butterfly estate, quickly." He said, his voice wavering in slight worry for what your about to go through. He sent his flashy, fast, and serious crow to the butterfly estate, notifying his presence. He was deadly fast, almost flying to the estate.

"Tengen!" You groaned. "Yes yes I know my dear, we're almost there, just a minute and then we'll be there!" He said, his legs moving faster than he's ever did before. He stayed true to his word because you two did arrive less then a minute later, the doors slammed open, shinobu's lavender eyes searching for something, and that something is you and tengen. As soon as she saw you, she called the other nurses working there and they rushed into the room they prepared for you. The pain was bad, you were groaning non stop, and tengen hated seeing you in pain. He'd do anything to spare you some pain.

He bit his lip nervously, they took you out of his arms and laid you down onto the bed. You clutched tengens hand tightly, slightly prepared for what's about to happen.

"Just a few more pushes (name)!" Shinobu said, it was so overwhelming for you. You yelled, screamed out in pain. "Push (name)! You can do it!" "You can do it honey! Just keep going!" All the yelling stopped and for a second, it was quiet. But the silence ended with a baby crying loudly. You groaned out in relief.

"It's a... boy!" Shinobu announced, everyone cheered in the room while you mentally cheered, too exhausted to even speak, nevermind a cheer. "I'll go wash him now and give you some time alone." She said, smiling eith her eyes closed. You two nodded before all the nurses left the room, one asking if you needed anything just to call.

You were exhausted, but you opened your eyes again and looked at tengen, his face showed love. His eyes glimmered with tears, his mouth pointing upwards showing his gorgeous white teeth. His thumb gliding over your knuckles softly. His fuchsia eyes looking- no, admiring your face. He took his other hand and wiped away your tears.

"You did amazing, my love." He mumbled, which made you have a silly smile on your face. Shinobu came back with your baby washed, him sleeping soundly. You softly gasped at the small baby, although you never seen him until now, you've always loved him. And your sure you and tengen and your co wives do too.

Talking about them, someone knocked on the door three heads popping out of the door once tengen said that they could come in.

"(Name)!!!!" Suma cried, your sure she cried more tears then you did. Makio slapped her arm and she yelped and ran to tengen. Hinatsuru calmly walked over to you and sat on the edge of the bed, her violet eyes filling with tears once she saw him. The sight of you in a hospital gown (don't ask me how you got in it) and the newborn in your arms just made her tear up. Suma and Makio walked over to you and also took in the sight. Suma tried to hold in her cries while makio teared up. Suma laid down next to you cuddling to your side.

"Tengen." "Yes my dear? Do you need anything?" Tengen got up, ready to go out and ask the nurse to whatever you wished.

"Do you wanna hold him first?" That question shocked him, it made his legs weak. He nodded firmly before taking his trembling legs and over to you where you were lying. Your wives had moved out of the way, watching the most important moment of their lives happening before them. Tengen reached his arms out, and you placed your son into his arms. He brought him over more closer to him.

"Hey little guy.." He cooed. "So this is the little troublemaker that has been making my wife distressed huh?" He scolded in a whisper way. He looked up at his wives, they already knowing what they mean. Hinatsuru was first, he placed him into her arms, and he started waking up.

"Hes got your eyes, tengen." Hinatsuru mumbled and Tengen grinned. "Well of course, he's my boy after all." he bragged and you laughed. Tengen looked over at you. Suma was next, and she cooed and cooed over him. "Awhhh!! Just look how big and adorable his eyes look! Kyaa!!" She squealed. And last but not least, was makio. He started playing with her fingers. Suma was beside her and looking closely at his face. Big mistake. He then poked her eye with his small finger, making suma recoil. "I like him!" Makio grinned, and suma sulked.

Then tengen looked over at you. "Dear, you should rest, your exhausted." He mumbled and kissed the side of your head. You nodded before drifting off into a deep slumber.

TIMESKIP!

Your son, s/n, was 2 years old today, so you and your wives started decorating the house before tengen and your son came back. Hinatsuru was a few months pregnant, so she couldn't do much, but you and your wives were still very appreciative of her effort.

The plan was that tengen would take s/n out in the town and do some fun stuff with him for a few hours and then you and your co wives would decorate and make the cake.

"oi! Suma! Your doing that wrong dumby! You aren't supposed to put that in yet!" Makio scolded suma and hit her on the head, which made suma cry out in pain. "Ladies, please stop yelling, hina is sleeping." You said, you took the role of hinatsuru on trying to get them to stop messing.

Suma clutched onto your arm. "(Name) (name) (name)!!!! MAKIO'S BULLING ME!!" she squealed. You just patted her head and told them that the cake needed to be in the oven now. You and makio started decorating the cake while suma did some touches to the house decoration.

You heard some ringing, sort of like beads clashing together. But to your relief, it wasn't tengen, it was his crow. "Message from tengen uzui! Ahem.. I am on my way home with s/n! I know as soon as I enter our flashy home, it's gonna be even flashier! S/n is very excited!" The crow read aloud. As soon as you heard that he's coming home, your mind started a small panic and you rushed into making the writing for the cake.

The front door opened. And s/n looked about in darkness and hung onto tengens neck. Tengen entered the kitchen and turned on the lights, and him and s/n got a fright because you, suma, makio and hinatsuru were hiding behind the counter. Makio and you laughed at their reaction.

"Yayayayaya! This cake is delicious! I love cake, I love cake, I love cake.." suma sang and it seemed like s/n seemed to catch on because..

"Cake!" He squealed. Silence. You all stared at him in shock. "C..Cake?" You mumbled and teared up. You then rook s/n to your side and started smiling as teared rolled down goir cheeks. "He said his first word! He said it!" You weeped. You were happy but then a tad bit sad that he didn't say mama first.

S/n smiled and giggled. "Cake Cake cake cake cake!" He ranted and you all laughed. Tengen went close to your ear. "Wanna make another one?" He whispered silently and grinned, making you all red. "OI I HEARD THAT!" suma and makio screamed. "Hey hey hey! I was joking!" But was he really? He glanced over at you and winked, yep, he definitely was not joking.

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crazy4leclerc · 16 days

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“i want to claim what’s mine.” — m.v

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

summary: after maxs’ DNF in australia, he finally comes out on top in japan and he has a certain way of celebrating the victory with you

warnings: smut!, possessive!max, cursing, partying, dom!max, mentions of alcohol, thigh riding, eating out, and p in v

a/n: i saw these pics on pinterest and went absolutely feral… bc i know max has a feral side to him. also pls enjoy the cute lil fan interaction at the beginning!! this fic is long so enjoy the ride ;)

—

i’m currently sitting on the edge of my seat in the garage watching the race with anxiety pumping through my veins. charles is currently in the lead as he got ahead of max when he pitted. im biting on my nails because i know how badly max needs to win this race since he DNF in australia.

i stay concentrated on the screen as max closes in the gap between him and charles. i feel my shoulders tense as they turn corners and max is right on charles’ tail.

coming up on the straight stretch, max finally gains enough speed to pass charles. “fuck yes! that’s my man!” i jump up from my chair and yell, pumping my fist in victory.

the rest of the race flew by easily. max was lapping people towards the end and checo was almost 15 seconds behind him. with a smirk on my face, i walk outside the garage and head over the the 1st place marker where max will be parking his car soon.

i watch as all the fans swarm into place behind the barrier as there is only a couple of laps left.

“y/n, can i get a picture?!” i hear a fan ask and i turn my shoulder over to see a little girl probably at the age of nine, with a smile on my face i walk over to her.

“of course you can get a picture.” i tell her, smiling down at her. she smiles at me and hands me the phone in her hand. i take it from her and snap a couple of pictures of us.

“can you give this to max and tell him i’m proud of him?” she asks me, taking a beaded bracelet off her small wrist. my eyes soften at her as i crouch down to her level. “of course i will. he will love this.” i tell her truthfully and she giggles.

“i have one for you, too!” she tells me and she goes to but the bracelet on my wrist. “thank you, i promise to never take it off.” she reaches over the barrier to give me a side hug and i obliged, squeezing her. “thank you, y/n. i’m your biggest fan!” she squeals to me, “you are, indeed.” i smile and let go of her and i realize the race is almost over.

“let’s watch max come across the finish line!” i tell her and she cheers along with me as we watch max speed down the straight stretch and the checkered flag waves. me and her cheer together as loud as we can.

“he did it!” she yells and i smile, “he did. we’re both so proud of him.”

i watch as maxs’ car approaches us and parks in the 1st place slot. he climbs out of his car and stands on the top, throwing his fist in the air as the crowd roars for him.

i run over to his car as he hops down, his arms wide open for me as i jump into them. “maxie, you did it! i’m so proud of you!” i tell him as he spins me around, laughing through his helmet. he sets me down and takes his helmet and balaclava off, his cheeks are flushed red from the marks and heat from the balaclava but that doesn’t stop him from smiling so big.

“thank you, schat. you’re my number one supporter.” he grabs my face and tells me but i shake my head no, “i’m actually not. i think there’s some one else who is more of a fan than me.” i tell him and he looks at me confused but i turn and point over to the little girl as she waves at us both. max waves back at her with a smile on his face.

“she wanted me to give you this and tell you that she is very proud of you.” i say while putting the bracelet on his wrist. i can see his face soften at the kind act as he kisses me on the forehead and makes his way over to her.

with a smile on my face, i stand back and watch as the fans congratulate max and so does his team.

before i know it, im listening to the dutch anthem being played and watch as max, checo, and carlos spray eachother with the champagne.

i feel my insides turn as max looks up at with a smirk on his face as the champagne roles down his neck and face.

feeling my body heat up at how he looks, carlos distracts him as he spray it all over his face. max sticks his tongue out letting the champagne get into his mouth. i giggle to myself at their little interaction.

once they’re all out of champagne, max bends down a bit, letting the champagne roll off his body. he runs his hand through his freshly cut and now sticky hair and with a devilish smirk in his face.

man am i in for it tonight.

—

after the race, me and max went back to our hotel room so we could both clean up and get ready for the after party.

“so where exactly are we going for the party?” i ask max while im currently doing my makeup in our shared hotel bathroom.

“it’s at yuki’s since he wants us to all see his new place he got.” he responds back to me through the glass of the shower.

humming a response, i focus on getting my eyeshadow just right as max turns off the shower and steps out. not even paying attention, i feel his hands grab my waist from behind and the heat off his steaming body.

“you don’t even need all this makeup, schatje.” his warm breath fans over my ear and i shudder. “maybe not, but i want people to know how sexy max verstappens girlfriend is.” i shrug and continue to work on my eyeshadow. gripping my waist tightly max kisses the back of my neck, “well it’s too bad that you’re all mine.” his voice dark and laced with possession.

i gulp and just focus on finishing my makeup. “did you hear me?” he reaches up and grips my chin in his hand, looking at me darkly through the mirror. “yes, maxie. i heard you and you are right. i am all yours.” pleasant with my response, he lets go of my chin and kisses my cheek, “just making sure, sweetheart.” i roll my eyes and giggle at his possessiveness.

“don’t laugh, i know it turns you on.” he says as he lets go of me and walks away. “my lips are sealed, verstappen.”

—

on the way to yuki’s house, i swear max could not keep his hands off me. i wasn’t complaining but i think him winning again had an affect on his actions.

his hand was gripping my thigh as we pull up to yuki’s. “holy shit, his place is nice.” i say aloud and max laughs at my sudden outburst. “it is, indeed.” he parks the car and gets out quickly to come open my door. giving me his outstretched hand, i grab it and we walk in together with his arm wrapped around my waist and my hand gripping his bicep.

every single driver was here tonight and the place was buzzing with excitement.

walking in, we’re greeted by yuki as we both congratulate him on doing good at the race and on his new place. “it’s gorgeous yuki, i love it!” i tell him and he thanks me.

i give max a tap on the bicep to let him know i’m going to go to the bar to get a drink and he nods, kissing my cheek and continuing his conversation with yuki.

once i’m at the bar, i ask for a cocktail and whiskey for max. “fancy seeing you here.” a thick british accent appears next to me as i snap my head in the direction it came from.

i’m met with brown eyes and a smirk on his face. “lando. what a pleasure seeing you.” i reply back sarcastically and he laughs. “i’m honestly surprised you showed up for once.” he makes a jab at me since i wasn’t able to be at the last party (which im convinced is why max DNF) because i wasnt able to make it to the race.

“well sometimes life gets in the way, wouldn’t you like to know that?” i jab back at him. “you’re feisty tonight then what you normally are.” he says as i watch him grab his drink and down it. “yeah, cause i got some asshole making jabs at me for actually having a life. my bad for missing one race. what’s it to you anyway?” i hiss at him sipping on my drink.

“lando, lay off will you?” thank god someone is saving me. i watch carlos appear next to me, giving me a sympathetic smile. “i’m not doing anything, i swear, just giving the pretty girl a hard time.” he smirks and i roll my eyes.

“i don’t even think you’d be tolerable even if i was drunk, norris.” i say as i down my cocktail. carlos laughs next to me patting me on the shoulder. “good one there, y/n.” lando scoffs and asks the bartender for more to drink.

“where is my knight in shining amour when i need him.” i groan. “seems that he’s too busy for you, wouldn’t you like to know?” lando smirks at me and i want to slap it off his face. “god and to think i actually liked you at some point. no wonder carlos left mclaren.” i say and stand up to walk away but someone grips my wrist.

“y/n, cmon, i’m only playing-“ lando is suddenly cut off by him being shoved away from me.

“and just what the fuck do you think you’re doing touching my girl like that?” oh thank god.

“max, i’m sorry, i was only giving her a hard time-“

“i don’t give a fuck,” i watch as max grips his shirt collar, “you stay the fuck away from her, especially when you’re wasted off your ass.” he pushes lando away and i watch as lando stumbles away from the bar. i look over at carlos as he goes to clap max on the back.

“there’s the knight and shining armor!” he says and i feel my whole body relax as max wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my into him. “are you okay, schat?” he whispers in my ear and i nod.

“and for the record, y/n, lando isn’t why i left, sadly to your dismay.” i giggle at carlos’ response and he gives me and max a smile and walks away.

“i need to get the fuck out of here.” max says and i furrow my brows, “why? we just got here?” i says confused as he grips my hips and pulls me so im flushed against his front, “because i want to claim what’s mine.”

—

i knew at the race today this is how tonight would’ve ended. but after the whole incident with lando it was like something primal took over max.

“maxie, slow down.” i say as i try to catch my breath from the heated makeout session me and max are having against our hotel door.

“hush, baby.” he says as he runs his hand up my body to put his pointer finger over my lips, which does shut me up.

“lemme take care of you.” he nearly whines as he picks me up and my legs straddle his waist. he walks us over to the bed and lays me down. keeping my mouth shut like i’m ordered, i feel max’s hands run down my legs as he grips my thighs to pull me closer. he kneels down on the side of the bed as he begins to kiss my inner thighs.

i’m so fucked.

i try to not make a sound as his fingers work their way up to my lacy panties. his fingers hook into them and yank them down. “are you wet?” he asks and i shake my head yes. but it clearly wasn’t good enough for him as he suddenly grips my throat in his hands, “i need a verbal response.”

“yes! i’m wet, i have been ever since you saved me from lando.” i confessed and he smirked, “that’s my good girl.” he says as he starts to mark my neck, “i gotta show some of those assholes who you belong to.”

suddenly, max’s other hand goes up under my dress and begins to stroke my clit, “you’re soaked, sweetheart.” and i whine in his ear. i feel his finger suddenly slide into my pussy.

it doesn’t take me long before i can feel myself unravel against him. “max, baby-“ i pant against his neck. “hm?” i feel him insert another finger and i squeeze my eyes shut.

“maxie, please, eat me out.” i whine to him and he stops working against my neck, nipping one last time, he gives me a harsh kiss on the lips and slides his hand out from under my dress. i watch as he takes his two fingers up to his mouth and licks me off of them.

“since you asked so nicely, i will.” he says as he grips my thighs and kneels down off the bed. pulling me close to him, he doesn’t give me a second to process before he dives right in, letting a loud moan out of me. “holy shit! max!” i feel him smirk against me as he grips my thighs so hard i know there will be bruises.

“i can’t help it, schatje. you taste too good and no one else will ever get to taste you.” he mumbles against me as i move my hips against his tongue. his stubble scratching against me turns me on even more and before i know it, im letting go all over his face.

“fuck, pretty girl. all this for me?” he asks and i whine out and yes. “mm, that’s what i thought. no one else gets you like this.” he says before he’s diving right back into my cunt for more.

“max, i can’t take it anymore!” i cry and he nips my clit to get me to shut up. i don’t last long at all and im letting go all over him again.

he lets go and stands up quickly, throwing his dark blue shirt off as im completely dazed. i feel his hands grip my waist as he flips me over and begins to unzip my dark blue dress.

“my teams color looks so good on you, love.” he whispers to me as im still trying to catch my breath. he pulls my dress off gently and turns me back over so i can see him. i reach my hands up to his pants and hook my fingers through his belt loop. “will only ever look this good for you.” i tell him and grabs my throat to pull me in for a heated kiss.

“i love when my girl knows who she belongs to.” he says as he sits on the bed as i straddle his thighs. “of course i do. im all yours.” i say as i begin to grind against his thigh. “fuck, schat.” he groans and i hold on his shoulders for support.

“i love the possessive side of you so much, maxie.” i whine to him as he grabs my hips to guide me against his thigh.

“good, baby. cause it’s not going anywhere.” he says and begins to leave marks on the other side of my neck as i work myself against his clothed thigh.

after hitting my climax for my 3rd time tonight, max still isn’t satisfied as he wipes my juices of his pants and licks it off his fingers. max grabs my wrist in his big hand and that’s when i noticed our matching bracelets the little girl gave us.

“max, look at our bracelets.” i tell him and he looks down, a smile gracing our lips.

“i’m assuming that’s our ship name?” he says and i giggle nodding my head. “that’s adorable, i’m never taking it off.” as he lays me down on the bed. he kisses me passionately as i feel him brush against my clit. whining into the kiss he finally pushes into me all the way as we both let out a satisfied moan.

“it’s the best feeling knowing i’m the only one who gets you like this.” he whispers to me, “i feel the same way, maxie.” he finally begins to thrust in out of me as he presses down onto my abdomen. “fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

and i took pride into that knowing max verstappen was all i needed.

—

a/n: oml i just wrote my first smut.

#nat writes #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 #f1 x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fluff #smut

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otrtbs · 9 months

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ART HEIST, BABY OUTTAKES (From The Vault)

SUMMARY: Two scrapped scenes from Art Heist, Baby! that didn't make the cut. Done in celebration of the one year anniversary of Art Heist, Baby! being complete! (Where did all the time go?)

WORD COUNT: 2k

(okay, for clarity, the first scene takes place sometime between chapter 15 and chapter 16 of Art Heist, Baby! and the second scene takes place during chapter 37 of Art Heist, Baby! One Regulus and one James POV <3)

“Oof.”

Regulus can’t help the smile that flashes across his face, there and then gone, at James’ little noise of surprise. James doesn’t have time to say anything else before Regulus’ mouth is on his, kissing him in fervent, electric delight that only secrecy could inspire.

Regulus always loves this best, pulling James into some room on the third floor after he dismisses the rest of the class. His hands running over the soft fabric of James’ shirt or the smooth expanse of his torso underneath as he hears Mary and Lily tear through the halls just beyond the closed door laughing, or Peter humming to himself softly as he makes his way down the stairs. All of them completely unaware that just behind the door they unknowingly walked past, Regulus was snogging James Potter's face off and attempting to shove his hands down his trousers. It’s times like these when Regulus curses himself for making all his stupid rules about the heist. He’d much rather be able to drag James through the hallways of this house and into his bedroom without a care in the world of who they happened to pass by.

“If you could be anything in the world, what would you want to be?” James gasps, his head falling back against the wall Regulus has him pressed up against. “But you can’t say what you are now, you have to pick something different.”

His cheeks are flushed and he’s halfway to looking debauched already. Just how Regulus likes him.

“Because, personally, I think I would want to be a dragon or something,” James continues once it’s clear Regulus has no intention of answering. “A red dragon that could breathe fire and fly. That would be cool. Oh, or I would be a Renaissance jouster. I could ride up on my horse and ask you for your favour in front of the whole kingdom. That would be fun.” A beat of silence. “What about you?”

Regulus lets out a derisive noise as he detaches his lips from James’ neck. “Seriously?”

“You could be anything. Not just career-wise. But you could be a rock in a stream or a cloud or a microwave.”

“James,” Regulus isn’t proud of the way he almost whines at this. They have very few minutes before lunch will be ready and then they’ll be called downstairs.

“Just humour me for a minute, Regulus,” James grins as Regulus pulls away, shushing him slightly in case someone walks by and hears them. “Please,” he whispers, still smiling radiantly.

This wasn’t a new thing for James. He was always asking Regulus all sorts of questions. When he said he wanted to know any and everything about Regulus, he meant it. And of course, because James was James, Regulus would always indulge him.

“Okay, give me a moment to think about it,” Regulus sighed, furrowing his brows. “And I can’t just pick to be who I am now and move on with it?”

“Nope,” James shook his head, placing his hands behind his back as leaned against the door. “That’s against the rules.”

It was a silly question, but Regulus still found himself thinking about it thoughtfully. If he could be anything, what would he want to be?

Strangely, his mind wandered to Sirius.

Sirius, who was so close but still seemed so far away. Sirius, who would throw himself in front of Walburga and Orion’s rage to protect Regulus every time, even when Regulus didn’t deserve it. Sirius who would knock on Regulus’ door in the middle of the night just to make sure that he was okay, who asked him what he was learning in school when his parents couldn’t be bothered, who made sure Regulus kept warm in the winter, who always remembered his birthday even when nobody else did. And how did Regulus repay him? He chose to stay with his parents instead of leaving with Sirius, even after all of that, and now Sirius hates him, and probably always would.

If he could be anything in the world, he supposes he’d want to be a good brother, or, at least a better one than he was in this life. Or maybe he’d want to be brave. Brave like Sirius. Brave like James. And maybe that bravery would help him to be a better brother.

He frowned at the sinking feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked this game anymore.

Quickly, he looked at James who was eagerly awaiting his answer with a smile on his face.

James who wanted to be a fucking dragon or a jousting knight wanted this game to be fun. Something light.

“Well, I guess I’d be the Prince of the kingdom giving you my favour in front of everyone before your big joust,” he says after a moment, giving a small smile as something in James’ face softens.

“You’d want that?” He asks, looking at Regulus through his glasses that were still lopsided from Regulus’ previous fierce snogging.

Regulus bit his bottom lip and shrugged. Going where James went didn’t seem like such a bad idea. If James would let him, if James would want him to. Maybe some of his bravery would rub off on him somehow. “Sure, why not?”

James’ hand shakes as he reaches for the pink sticky note. He can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed by it, even though Evan and Barty are standing right behind him, ready with the painting and a ruler and a tape measurer and everything else you could possibly need to ensure that a painting is perfectly centred and straight on a wall.

For a minute he just stares at it, hand outstretched and trembling, taking in Regulus’ curly handwriting. James wonders if Regulus put a lot of thought into this sticky note. If he hovered the pen over the sheet of paper and thought long and hard about what painting he wanted. If Regulus went through every room in their house envisioning the perfect place to hang this painting, trying to place the pink sticky note above the spot where he wanted their bed to be, or in the hallway across from the kitchen, or upstairs. Taking it down and re-sticking it to different places until he found the perfect one. He wonders if Regulus had gone over every painstaking detail in his mind just as James had done over these last two years, or if he had just known.

It’s silly, hesitating over a sticky note like this. It had fallen down from its spot on the wall numerous times over the weeks and months that it had been there. So why was it so hard to take it down now? It’s what Regulus wanted, and James never had any issue with the other sticky notes. He buzzed around the house, taking each sticky note down with him as he went about unpacking Regulus' books and planting a garden and filling up the closet. He didn’t throw any of the notes out either, though. Instead, he kept them in a small box at the back of his closet for safekeeping. That’s exactly where this sticky note would go if he could just bring himself to take it down.

Barty lets out a little sigh from behind him and James turns around just in time to see Evan elbow him harshly in the ribs and the spell is broken.

With trembling fingers James pluckes the sticky note off the wall, a little bit of paint coming up with the reinforcement tape he had added to ensure the paper stopped falling down, and held it to his chest tightly. Quietly, without looking away from the spot where the sticky note had been he whispered to Barty and Evan, “Alright, let’s put it up.”

That night James dreams constantly.

He dreams of the waves crashing against the shore of his favourite beach with reckless abandon and he dreams of car chases and gilded frames and the smell of turpentine, but most importantly, he dreams of Regulus.

“It’ll be sunny and warm there. I love the sunlight you know,” Regulus murmurs sleepily.

They’re in the house in New Hampshire together and Regulus is starting his favourite activity of only opening up in the dark, when he doesn’t have to see or be seen, but James doesn’t mind.

“Hmm?” he hums, pulling him closer. It’s late, and James guesses that he only has a couple of hours before he has to be up learning about the heist from one of Regulus' many classes.

“In Brazil. The warmth, the light. I don’t know, I feel like the rays will hit my chest and dislodge all the dark sludge from my heart, and for a moment I can just sit there and be golden and bright. It’s foolish,” Regulus sighs and James can hear his frown, even in the dark. Always like the tides, pushing in and pulling back.

“I don’t think so,” he responds quickly. “I think it’s nice.” He attempts to hold Regulus tighter, to warm him up somehow because he sounds a little too sad tonight for James’ liking and he’s starting to feel strangely cold in his arms. “But for the record, I’ve always thought you were pretty fucking bright and brilliant, Regulus.”

Regulus has a habit of seeing himself as something dark and stormy. Something turbulent and destructive, but James knows better. James knows the truth.

Regulus hums lightly, something soft and sweet. “I know, James. It’s a nice thought.”

James wants to say something else, he wants to run his fingers through Regulus’ hair and kiss his forehead and convince him of his warmth, but before he gets the chance to, he wakes up.

For a long while, James just lays there, flat on his back, unmoving in the aftermath. He listens to the beat of his heart and his shallow breathing. It had been several weeks since James had dreamed of Regulus like this.

He used to hate it. He used to find the reminder of Regulus’ absence unbearable when he opened his eyes, but these days he doesn’t mind it.

When he dreams of Regulus now, it makes it missing him a little bit better. He always misses Regulus, but this way it feels like James just got to see him. It makes it seem as if the last time James got to see Regulus was just the day before instead of two years ago.

“Oh, Regulus? Yeah, I just saw him last night.”

“I held him in my arms only yesterday.”

Sometimes it’s a comforting thought to have.

“You would love Brazil, Reg,” James whispers in the dark to his ceiling. Alone in his empty bedroom. “I hope it’s sunny and bright wherever you are. I hope you're not cold.”

Barty and Evan stick around for a little while after the painting is put up. They field several calls of anger and astonishment from Sirius both from their phones and from James’ phone. They attempt to convince James to come back to Vegas with them for the thousandth time, but he declines. It’ll be good for him to sit in the house for a while, now that it’s finally finished.

It feels like an end in so many ways, but not in the mournful way James expected it to. It felt as complete as it possibly could be without Regulus. Always there, like a chip in his favourite mug. Not shattered, still usable, but always with a quick sting of pain if you nicked your lip on the chipped rim. Still, it was the only mug James would ever want to drink out of.

He looks forward to discovering what new beginning this end will bring about for him. He can only hope that it's a nice one.

While he doesn't take Barty and Evan up on their offer to come back to Vegas with them, he does take them to the airport. He walks them as far as they will let him go and waves goodbye until they are out of sight and begins the journey back to his little house.

He thinks about the simple things. Things he needs to buy from the store– more lemons, some cleaner, cinnamon. He makes a note to call Marlene to fill her in on his recent adventures, and reminds himself that it’s about time to check the financial accounts to ensure everything was still running smoothly.

He lets these thoughts fill his mind all the way until he gets home, and when he opens the door to his house, to their house, he sees the painting. A ship sailing bravely through the blue ocean, cutting through the waves into the unknown expanses beyond. He smiles to himself as he sees it lit up in a brilliant warm glow. The rays of the sun kiss it gently and fill it with radiance. Then, ever so softly, James closes the door behind him.

#nat writes #art heist baby!#happy one year to art heist!!!#so much love in my heart for this story and these characters <33 #can't believe a year ago i was uprooting my life to move across the ocean and finishing my first ever story!!! and now i'm here #surreal a bit #okay love youse <3 im sappy

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quiveringdeer · 1 year

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wanna be snuggled up between Kiri and Bakugo while watching some movie that took us over an hour to decide and agree on, with Katsuki being the hold out, and then not half way through this crabby old man--in a youthful body-- is already zonked out and drooling on your shoulder.

or more accurately Kiri's hoodie, which you're wearing and thus it's protecting your shoulder. this time you two make sure to film a short video so that when you tease Bakugo in the morning he can't deny the evidence. 😌

#kiribaku x reader #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #nat writes

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jakegooglyeyes · 5 months

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Emblem of Roses - 5

Hi, everyone, sorry for the radio silence. I have been dealing with a lot of issues in my life, with both my health and my job. I'm doing better now, so don't worry. I'll try to keep Emblem of Roses updated more regularly from now on. Thank you for everyone's support and patience. Your asks and messages meant a lot to me and they really pulled me through a tough time.

Special thanks to @gyllenhaalstories for countless encouragement and beautiful wishes.

Pairings: Jake Gyllenhaal x reader, Maggie Gyllenhaal x reader (Medieval AU)

Summary: You were content with your quiet life as an illegitimate daughter of the King, hanging out with the maids and learning your craft. All that ended when your father married you to Lord Gyllenhaal, the Usurper, as a peace offering and a hostage.

Word count: 5,400

Warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI , RPF, DUBCON, angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, hate to pining, polyamory, slow burn with smut, political marriage, mean!Jake to pining!Jake, cunning!Maggie, kind!reader.

*** Your online experience is your responsibility. You have been warned. If any of these content upsets you, DO NOT READ!!! ***

Divider credit: @/firefly-graphics

"Who are you?"

Lady Maggie's voice turns cold and distant. An immense presence you have never felt corners you like a helpless animal. Your feet grow heavy as though they are chained to the ground. Thousands of thoughts race through your head as you contemplate how to respond to ensure your head will remain on your shoulders. Ultimately, there is no other way but to speak the truth.

"I am the bastard daughter of the King." You try to still yourself, preventing the cracking in your voice.

Relief. In a split moment, that is all you feel, relieved that you no longer have to carry the burden of a lie. You tell them your given name, at which the Lady doesn't seem surprised, leaving you to wonder how much she has learned about you. And for how long.

"It is never my intention to deceive you. The King ordered me to marry Lord Gyllenhaal in the princess' stead. I was not given a choice, my Lord, my Lady." You attempt to look at the Lady in the eyes but quickly avert your gaze.

Lady Maggie eyes you like a hawk, searching for any sign of deception. You don't even want to know what kind of expression is on the Lord's face right now. The silence suffocates you like tangling vines. You hang your head low, making yourself appear as humble as possible. Now, you have said all that you can. Only Gods know if the Lord and Lady Gyllenhaal believe you. If they do not find your answer satisfactory, well, you fear your fate has been sealed.

"And you have no nefarious intentions? Another order by the King, perhaps." The Lady asks, her voice calm but grim. The cold glint of the dagger and the King's command flash through your head. There was indeed another order. One you would never have the courage to obey.

"Never, my Lady. I swear on my life that I never had a single ill intention." You reply, struggling to keep your voice from shaking. Your ears are ringing from the dread so much that you cannot even hear yourself speaking, only your thundering heartbeat. What you said is not a lie. You have no intention of taking anyone's life. You can only hope your nervousness doesn't make you seem guilty.

"No? So you are not spying on us?" The Lady's eyes gleam as she looks upon you with a mocking expression. Or it could have been her disappointment, not that you can discern what she thinks. "Well, I wonder why the Lord's little wife has been dressing as a servant and running all over the place."

As you hear the Lady's inquiry, you feel the life force being sucked out of your limbs. Blood is drained from your knuckles as you tighten your grip on the fabric of your dress. Being cast aside by the Lord has made you careless. You have guessed that the Lady knew all about your activities but were too foolish to realize how incriminating they were.

"What is the meaning of this?" The Lord frowns. It's not just you who are caught off guard. He is also stunned by Lady Maggie's revelation.

"Oh, my dear brother. You truly ought to spend more time with your wife." The Lady's tone is nonchalant, with a drop of sarcasm pointing toward her brother. She is not entirely pleased that her brother sees you as her responsibility.

"Who gave you permission to act freely within our premises?" The Lord demands an answer. His sharp tone and piercing gaze reveal his apparent distrust toward you, making you almost jump from your chair. "Speak!"

"I... I was merely trying to be useful during my presence here. I swear my motives are without malice." Another attempt to diffuse the Lord's hostility seems to be in vain.

In a brief moment, your eyes met with his. The creases between his brows remind you of the first time you saw him. It is the same hatred he always has for the royal family. The Lord's hand never leaves the dagger by his side. And you know, just one wrong word could cost you your insignificant little life.

"Do you truly expect us to believe the words of someone sent here by the King? How can we trust that you are not here to do his bidding?" The Lord questions your pleas. The idea of letting a spy run amok inside these walls makes him regret not being able to just sever your head right now and end all doubts. A quick swing of his blade for peace of mind? It is very tempting.

Ever the diplomat, Lady Maggie interferes after sensing the Lord's mounting thirst for blood. Her hand raises with grace in a gesture of restraint. "Rest assured, my Lord. My people have kept a watchful eye on her since her arrival. The girl can do no harm... even if she wants to."

You are somewhat thankful for Lady Maggie's intervention. Even if the Lady's scorn is carefully concealed in her sophistication, at the very least, she is more level-headed than her brother. However, it makes you wonder why she didn't deal with you or inform her brother sooner. Why force you to face him now?

You open your mouth, wanting to say something, but soon are cut off.

"Before you say anything, I wish to remind you that lying will not benefit you nor us." Lady Maggie raises her hand to shush you.

As you wonder about the Lady's implication, a steady footstep draws everyone's attention. The steward comes carrying something in her hand. The middle-aged woman leers at you before approaching her mistress, presenting Lady Maggie with the objects she has brought. The Lady nods in acknowledgment before dismissing her loyal servant.

You freeze in place, and your heart cannot stop drumming as you notice the familiar roll in the Lady's hand. You recognize the yellow hue of the parchment, the dry ink, and your very own unfinished sentences.

Your body is quicker than your brain as your composure crumbles, lunging forward, trying to take the letter from the Lady's hand. An act you greatly regret as soon as a tremendous force blocks your airway. You only have enough time to cast your fearful gaze over the Lord, who is closing his fingers around your throat with the intent to kill.

"I wonder who this 'mother' could be. I am quite flattered you speak so highly of our House, princess."

Lady Maggie's slender fingers brush across the material, unbothered by your predicament. Her casual remarks obscure the threats bubbling underneath a peaceful facade. You struggle to draw a breath, starting to feel light-headed as you try to claw at the grip on your neck. Even as your chest burns and your vision blurs, your eyes fixate on the parchment as you mouth the phrase "give it back."

As suddenly as it has started, the chokehold is gone. The Lord huffs with disapproval. His fingers loosen after his sister's discreet hand gesture. You fall on the ground, choking on your own spit as your body becomes greedy for fresh air. Your hand reaches out for the letter as if it were a lifeline. In a delirious state, you can only make out the embroidered hem of the Lady's dress. The patterns swirl in front of your eyes, digging out old memories you thought you had forgotten. In a dreamlike trance, you crawl to the Lady's feet, the cold stone floor beneath reminiscent of another time.

You are back at the King's castle once more. A long time ago. Before Mother was there. Before you could fight back. Tiny hands and bare feet, riddled with blisters and scabs. Groveling at someone's shoes, pleading for them to give you little food scraps. You no longer know what you are begging for, only an echoing desperation to protect your little peace.

Lady Maggie's demeanor shifts. Her feigning smile disappears as she looks down at you. While she has anticipated a response, the depth of your emotional upheaval catches even a seasoned strategist like her off guard, though she swiftly conceals her surprise. A delicate touch brushes under your chin. Lady Maggie lifts your face with deceptive grace.

"Now, care to enlighten us about the intended recipient of this letter?"

The coolness of her fingers brings you back to the present. Something in your head is gnawing at you, warning you to keep your secret. You do not understand. It should not matter whether you tell the Lady about your mother. And yet, you cannot help but feel a sense of dread, as if you were curling up, fearing you would be disemboweled by a great bear.

"I... it's... it's no concern of yours." You catch yourself stammering.

The Lady's smile widens, seemingly unoffended by your refusal to cooperate. "Oh, but I am genuinely curious. I did not mean to frighten you, my dear. It's my duty to know more about those under my care, after all."

As you hesitate, the Lord, who has been observing silently, interjects, "Get to the point! What are you trying to hide?"

The Lady shoots him a glance, a mix of annoyance and amusement dancing in her eyes. Ignoring her brother's impatience, she refocuses on you. "I promise, no harm intended. Just a little explanation to satisfy my curiosity."

You finally relent under the pressure.

"She's just an old healer, my Lady. She took me in and treated me like her own flesh and blood. I only write to ease her mind about my well-being."

The Lady shoots you an inquisitive eye that you cannot decipher. "Ah, the blood of the covenant is always thicker, is it not. I can only surmise your father wasn't particularly benevolent toward an illegitimate child."

You lower your gaze in response, your silence serving as a confirmation of the Lady's assumption. As she speaks, the Lord notices a rare glimmer of empathy in his sister's eyes. Well, even he pities you a little, not for whatever misery you went through but for the road you are being led down by his sister. He knows her well, and he understands her convoluted games even better. She pokes and prods until she uncovers people's weaknesses, then uses them to either control or break those who cross her path. But her showing guileless compassion? This is an unfamiliar territory even for him.

The silence lingers until a sudden knock echoes through the door, with the steward's voice soon following suit, announcing the arrival of the royal delegates. The Lord grimaces, a flicker of frustration crossing his features as he is not amused by the abrupt conclusion. He exchanges a secretive look with his sister before shifting his focus to you.

Lady Maggie nods at her brother, who maintains his ever-present frown. "Please escort your Lady to the Great Hall, my Lord. Let's not make our prestigious guests wait. I will join you later." Then, she turns to face you. Her words carry an unwavering seriousness, no pleasantries, no pretense.

"We'll resume this conversation when the timing is more fitting. However, bear in mind that whatever you were before, right now, you are Lord Gyllenhaal's wife. And every step you take will be subjected to scrutiny."

Your head lowers as you can only muster a quiet "Yes, my Lady" before the steward enters the chamber to help you back up on your feet. The Lady orders the woman to aid you in fixing your appearance into a more presentable state. Afterward, the steward leads you to the Lord, who awaits you in the hallway, seemingly lost in contemplation.

A swift glance is all he affords you before turning on his heel and taking long strides toward the Great Hall. That is your cue to follow. You make your best effort to keep up with the Lord's unforgiving pace but deliberately trail a few steps behind him, mindful not to stay too close. For whatever it's worth, you are grateful that he stays silent throughout the trip. His thoughts remain unknown to you while you take the time to admire the impressive breadth of his shoulders and his steadfast posture, reminiscent of a warrior marching to the battlefield.

On the way, you notice quite an unusual presence of heavily armed guards, roses insignia carved into their armor plates. The air is stagnant, and the festive mood of the previous days is replaced by caution. As the Lord and you approach the towering double doors of the Great Hall, your pulse quickens with the palpable uneasiness permeating the stone walls.

"Raise your head." A voice, as measured as it is unexpected, cuts through the silence. The Lord's command disrupts your thoughts, momentarily catching you off guard. It is the first time he has ever addressed you in such a manner, devoid of either contempt or revulsion. Instead, it reminds you of the words Lady Maggie told you last night.

Do not let anyone think that House Gyllenhaal is to be trifled with.

You are a lady of the House.

The Lord and Lady are indeed kin, you observe. They are different from each other in every way, and yet, at times, they are almost the same person.

As the heavy doors swing open and the servant loudly announces the Lord and his wife's arrival, you step into the grand chamber where the esteemed guests are waiting. Your eyes lock onto the royal delegates seated at the long table, their opulent attire embroidered in gold threads, contrasting the austere clothes worn by House Gyllenhaal's people. Two sides greet each other with false flattery, an intricate interplay of feigned courtesy and veiled intent.

The Lord leads you to the front, reserved for the heads of the family. His presence makes heads turn, though you can tell many of those gazes fall on you. This is only the second time you walk next to him as his wedded wife. You focus, keeping your posture poised and expression composed, trying to mirror the image he presents to his people and guests.

The delegates, sent by the King, rise from their seats and bow to the Lord in an exaggerated display of etiquette. Honeyed words drip from their lips, laden with poisonous insincerity. The Lord reciprocates with polite nods and faint smiles. You are somewhat surprised to see this stone wall of a man can be such a diplomat. Now that you think about it, he used to be a respected general in the King's court before the rebellion. He must have been no stranger to court intrigues.

Among the delegates, you catch the subtlest of glances, fleeting stares that linger for a heartbeat too long. You don't recognize anyone, but you have no doubt that a few of these nobles know your true identity as the King's bastard, a pathetic replacement for the real princess. Some of them can't even hide the condescension on their face. Even as they address you with the princess title, a trace of mockery flickers in their eyes.

"Your Highness, rest assured that we shall bring the news of your well-being to your father, the King. The magnificence of Goldenhall undoubtedly befits your greatness." One of the delegates gives praise, a middle-aged man whose smile, though broad, carries an underlying tone of sarcasm towards both you and House Gyllenhaal.

You hold your head high. Compared to the things you've heard, this is next to nothing compared to the spiteful words you heard. You reply with humility and ambiguity, avoiding saying too much as you have never had to participate in diplomatic affairs. It feels surreal to stand here on the same footing as the people who see your whole existence as a disgrace. Within these walls, they will not be so foolish to bare their fangs at you. You do not want to admit it, but you feel almost invulnerable with the Lord by your side, as strange as the idea is.

"Indeed, my wife is doing well. We are not the treacherous monsters who imprison and torture the guests coming into their homes." The Lord sneers with an edge to his voice, his words masking a touch of disgust. A wry smile appears as he raises his cup toward the delegate. The man returns the Lord's gesture with the same broad smile.

Before long, the musicians begin to play their songs, signaling that the feast has started. You finally get to see with your own eyes how the Lord and his people enjoy the festivity. Unlike the servants, whose idea of celebration is basically an abundance of food and drink, for the nobles, it involves people presenting their gifts and good wishes to the Lord's family. That, and the endless praises being thrown back and forth.

The whole event is exhausting. Your face and neck go stiff after having to smile and nod every other second. Even the Lord himself appears to be weary of the constant pleasantries. With the royal delegates' presence, he cannot allow himself to be reckless for even just a moment. One can tell Lady Maggie is definitely the more adept navigator of these delicate interactions.

Nonetheless, seeing how the Lord puts on such a courteous mask is very eye-opening. He appears to be much less threatening than he was during your wedding, that, or the wedding was much more miserable for him than practically anything else.

An old couple whose clothes are embellished with House Gyllenhaal symbols approaches, bearing a modest wooden box. With respect, they place the container before you, emitting a subtle fragrance of herbs. Inside the box are three rare flowers that exclusively grow far up north. The plants immediately pique your interest as you have only ever seen drawings in your mother's book.

"Milady, we hope you accept our humble offering. May you soon be blessed with the Lord's sweet fruit." The elderly woman speaks, her smile radiating warmth and kindness.

"Allow this old man to offer a piece of wisdom." Her husband, who seems to have had one too many drinks, turns to the Lord. "Children are important, yes, and hardly any pleasure in life can beat a woman's embrace. But please do not exert your wife. For the soil must be well tilted before the seeds can thrive." After his slight jest, the man holds his drink up to the Lord, provoking a chorus of laughter among the guests and a scolding from his elderly wife.

The words of the wife and husband send warmth surging to your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and discomfort. Surprisingly, the Lord appears unbothered, raising his cup to thank the couple for the gift. Instead, he leans over to you with his elbow on the armrest and his face resting lazily on his hand.

"My sister's handy work," He murmurs, his voice a hushed undertone meant only for your ears. You cast a quizzical glance in his direction, perplexed by his unexpected initiation of casual conversation. "I do not know what tall tales she has spun about you, but it seems to give the elders strange ideas," the Lord elaborates. "Whatever puts our elders at ease."

You don't know what to say, nor do you think the Lord wants your input. You have undoubtedly noticed a subtle shift in how you are regarded by House Gyllenhaal. Their caution around you still lingers, yet hatred has given way to a more neutral stance. You even receive the occasion curtsy from the lower-ranked members of the House.

The light of day in the winter is fleeting. Soon, the Hall begins to bask in the fuchsia hues of dusk. With a polite request, you ask permission to leave the chamber for fresh air, earning a nonchalant dismissive wave from the Lord.

As the chattering of the guests is left behind you, a moment of respite envelops your body and mind. In the crispness of the outside air, you finally find solace, and the pent-up breath you have been holding is released in a gentle exhale.

Without a destination in mind, you wander through the courtyard, feeling the chilling night air seeping through your clothes. In your solitude, your mind wrestles with your current situation. You have not forgotten the King's order to assassinate the Lord nor the threat hanging above your mother's life. But you have never had the gut or heart to commit such an act. You have no intention of taking anyone's life. And even if you did, getting the chance to do so would be an entirely different problem.

The mere thought of obeying the King's command sends shivers down your spine. The memories of your miserable life are hard to ignore. You want nothing but to stay far from this power struggle between House Gyllenhaal and the King, and to live your life in peace. But you understand with your circumstances right now, it is a luxury you know you cannot afford.

The letter is still in Lady Maggie's possession. Neither she nor her brother are going to simply trust your words. Your life under the King was pathetic, but people treated you with disregard, allowing you to just disappear. Here? You are, at best, a useless captive and, at worst, a threat. The only silver lining is when you are not playing the unwilling role of a princess, your life here is fine, good even.

A daring idea flashes through your mind. One doesn't have to be well-versed in politics to know that the peace between the King and House Gyllenhaal is incredibly fragile. This uneasy balance can shatter at any moment. When things come to that, you need to find a stable ground to stand on, and you know you will never achieve that by the King's side. Not that there was ever a place for you. If, and this is a big if, you are able to secure favor with House Gyllenhaal, it could guarantee your safety here and dispel a little bit of their ill will against you. Such an endeavor might improve your situation considerably. And then, maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to bring your mother here with you.

The problem? It's one thing to put on the servant's garb and duck your head to avoid being seen. It's another thing to actively support the King's enemy. Your sense of self-preservation keeps tugging at your soul. What terrible fate awaits you and your mother were the Gyllenhaal to fail? At times like this, you wish the old healer were here to tell you the right thing to do.

The biting cold reminds you that you must return to the feast soon. At least there is a large fire in there, you tell yourself. Looking around, you find yourself having wandered to the servants' quarter. The guards are spread thin in this part, and most servants are busy tending to the guests. You cup your hands over your mouth to warm them up before making your way back, not noticing a group of people wearing the King's symbols approaching.

"You are late, lady Maggie."

The Lord snorts, displaying his displeasure of being left alone fending against these diplomats. Lady Maggie lets out a hearty laugh, apologizing to the guests with a socially acceptable excuse. She then takes the seat beside the Lord, positioned opposite your now vacant chair. The Lord leans closer to his sister as the music and revelry shield their conversation from prying ears.

"What is it that you're scheming, sister?" The Lord inquires.

"Ah, is this about the girl?" The Lady lifts the cup to her lips, musing at her brother's annoyance. She takes a small sip, allowing the aromatic liquid to warm her from the inside. "Have you frightened her off, my Lord?"

The Lord scoffs at his sister's evasion of his question. "I am curious as to why you seem to take pity on her? Has House Gyllenhaal's ruthless strategist suddenly grown a conscience?"

The Lord expects his sister to retort with her usual witty remarks, but they are nowhere to be found. Instead, she falls into silence, pondering ideas only she herself knows of. After taking another sip of her drink, the Lady speaks in a soft voice while watching her distorted reflection within the ripples of the wine.

"Brother, I have been wondering. Would it not be easier to throw away something you do not want?" The Lady doesn't look up from her drink. She speaks as if to herself.

The Lord knows full well that she is speaking of you. He has not really given much thought about you unless he has to. However, his sister's question gives him pause. That's right. It should have been far simpler for the King to consign you to a family of peasants or abandon you in the forest. Why did he keep an illegitimate daughter all these years?

He glances at his sister, who is exchanging courtesies with several guests. He has so many questions but this place is not suitable for them. Well, he suspects Lady Maggie has already sent out her little ravens searching for information. This is not his domain to worry about, anyway. He never doubted his sister. When has she ever led him astray?

After all the ordeals you have gone through today, the last face you want to see is the one standing before you. You recognize this woman - the Head Maid from the King's castle, undoubtedly bringing back many unsavory memories.

"Oh my, isn't this our princess? Thriving, I see, unlike us humble servants." She stands at the forefront of a dozen servants brought here to serve the needs of the delegates, effectively blocking your path. You haven't seen them with their masters as they are not allowed in the Great Hall.

Wishing to avoid confrontation, you maintain a stoic expression, refusing to acknowledge her jibe, and press on, determined to walk past the group. However, a vicious force yanks on your arm, almost making you lose your balance. You glare at the Head Maid's chilling face. It reminds you of the past when her authority and cruelty loomed over you like a shadow.

"Why the rush, princess? Forgot your manners?" She sneers. The mockery in her voice sounds unpleasantly familiar.

Resisting the urge to retaliate and risk tarnishing the image of the Lord, you fume in silence, baffled by her audacity to assert power over you even beyond the castle walls. You are no longer the lowly bastard subjected to her whims.

You wince as she pinches your arm, something she often used to do any time she believed you were out of line, which is every time. As you attempt to push her away, a sinister grin twists the Head Maid's features as she deliberately invokes your mother's name.

"Well, well, princess. Perhaps you've forgotten the lessons I taught you." Her words are full of malicious intent, and her fingers dig into your arm like a crab's pincers. "I may be unable to teach you another lesson here, but mark my words. If you don't learn to behave, your mother will pay the price for your insolence."

Like a spark to dry hay, the threat ignites a torrent of anger within you. The frustrations of the day, the weight of your struggles, and the danger your mother has to face because of you all converge into an explosive outburst. You can no longer contain the seething rage that boils in your blood. Everyone wants something. You just want to be left alone.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you push the Head Maid away with a force that sends her tumbling into a freezing puddle. The unexpected defiance leaves the other servants stunned with disbelief. Clearly, the Head Maid's distasteful tales of your supposed powerlessness have given them the idea that you are underneath, and they never anticipated such resistance.

Some of them rush to help the sputtering woman up from the icy water, while others cautiously encircle you, uncertain what they should do. They look at each other with hesitation, for this place is not their territory, and your status is not exactly their equal.

"Make the bitch pay!" The Head Maid, shrieking at the other servants, declares that you must pay for your transgressions. The notion that even within the Gyllenhaal's fortress, the King's authority still holds sway takes root among royal servants. Tentatively, one of them reaches out to subdue you just as the guards arrive, alerted by the escalating commotion. However, they are not the only ones to have come.

The guards soon part to make the way for the Lord and the head of the delegates. You don't know how much of the unruly display the Lord has seen, but he has a look on his face you can only describe as "heads will roll tonight." You look down, fumbling with your dress, unsure what will befall you now.

The Head Maid, soaked and enraged, scurries to the delegate, seizing the opportunity to blame the altercation on you. She launches into a mad tirade, claiming the incident was an unprovoked attack when she was simply trying to greet you. A knot of anxiety tightens inside you as you can only stand there, unable to meet the Lord's gaze, grappling with the fear that your actions may have brought shame upon him.

"Come here." The Lord's voice cut through the wailing. Indeed, he sounds angry, but the anger is not directed at you. Furthermore, there is an underlying assurance in his words that steadies your racing heart. The chaos seems to recede as you approach him. His presence should be apprehensive but now oddly comforting.

"Tell me what happened?" He offers you a chance to defend your name, a gesture you did not expect. The residual rage clears your head, and the threat the Head Maid had made about your mother still rings fresh in your mind.

Rolling up your sleeves, you reveal the vivid red marks inflicted by the Head Maid, some even breaking the skin. "This woman attacked and threatened me. I had no choice but to defend myself,"

The Lord's brows knit together as he examines your injury. It seems his sister was right about your miserable life at the castle. He turns to the delegate, his voice grim. "Handle your people swiftly, or I'll deal with the perpetrator myself. I assure you, you will not like my methods."

Sensing the gravity of the situation, the delegate acts decisively. The delegate detests House Gyllenhaal, but he is not keen on upsetting them, at least not for the sake of a mere servant. The Head Maid's eyes widen at the turning tides. She opens her mouth to spew more of her venom but is immediately cut short with a resounding slap that almost causes her to fall again.

"Beg for the Lady's forgiveness, NOW!" The middle-aged nobleman orders.

The woman is flabbergasted. It finally clicks in her head that her master will not be on her side. The Head Maid reluctantly takes a step forward and bends her knees. Her usual arrogance crumbles, replaced by a forced submission. With a hesitating voice, she never imagined she would have to say to you, unwillingness evident in every syllable.

"I... I apologize, my Lady. I beg you to forgive my impudence." She mumbles insincere words.

"I want you gone." The words escape your mouth before you can rein them in. The metallic sound of a sword being unsheathed echoes, accompanied by the Head Maid's fearful cry. The Lord has drawn his sword and is aiming for the woman's neck. Realizing your sentence has been taken the wrong way, you catch the Lord's hand to prevent any more escalation.

"I... I mean, I want her out of my sight. I want her to leave the Keep." Desperation colors your voice as you tightly cling to the Lord's arm. He exhales sharply before sheathing his weapon in disappointment. The delegates had given him the urge to spill blood the whole evening, and he was really looking for an excuse, any excuse.

"I'll make sure this maid departs before dawn." The delegate rubs his hands together, relieved that this matter is finally resolved.

"Before midnight." The Lord commands.

One of Lady Maggie's servants comes forward, bringing a cape made of soft fur, and hands it to the Lord. He accepts the cape and drapes it over your shoulders, shielding you against the lingering chill. Of course, he completely ignores your sheer bewilderment. The unexpected gesture and the weight of the fur leave you awestruck.

"Return to your chamber. I'll have the physician look at your arm." The Lord instructs you. You are still so speechless that you can only nod. He then turns to the delegate and his servants, issuing a warning to those who even think about overstepping their boundaries.

"The moment she crosses those gates, she is no longer a princess or whatever she once was. She belongs to House Gyllenhaal and is under my protection. Tell your people to remember that."

Tag List:

@looloolily

@boydhoebrook

#jake gyllenhaal x reader #maggie gyllenhaal x reader #fic: emblem of roses #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #maggie gyllenhaal fanfic #nat writes #fics #cw: rpf

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 10 months

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Short Prompt # 13

Decided to spice things up with villain x villain instead of my usual hero x villain.

TW: None!

"I've never cared for a thing in the world, love," the villain purred, tracing the perfect curve of their lover's jaw, lazily trailing their finger down to their neck.

"I know," the other villain breathed out heavily, refusing to meet their gaze.

"But you, on the other hand," they started, pressing a slow, delicate kiss to the other's cheekbone, "occupy a space in my mind that continues to spread, like poison in the bloodstream. And I just can't fathom living without it."

"You had. . .ambitious plans, I did, too," the other villain reminded them, their tone sober, but their eyes half-lidded, peeking out beneath gorgeous, dark lashes, letting their fingers intertwine with those of their paramour's.

The criminal pulled them into their lap effortlessly, making their now shallow breath catch in their throat as they temporarily let go of their hands. They could feel their partner's strong arms bracketing around them, their hands in theirs again, their fingers skirting over their sweetheart's knuckles in soothing motions.

"And what's stopping us from doing everything we've ever desired, together?" they whispered, voice velvety against the other's ear.

"Vulnerabilities," they concluded, treacherously kissing the crown of the second evil-doer's hair in spite of their dismal words. Or word, actually.

To their surprise, the villain chuckled. "Darling," they crooned, their hands now toying with the fabric of their flame's silk shirt, "we are not heroes. We do not love in the weak-willed way they do, no sacrifices for the greater good or whatever spiel they believe in. You and I make each other stronger, so what if we enjoy ourselves in the process? Even hardened hearts like ours need someone to belong to."

They eased their fingers out of the other's hands, tracing patterns into the skin of their arms, rubbing the lean muscles tenderly, smiling a little to themselves as they watched the tight line of their shoulders fade.

"Well, there's no holding back, now, lovely," the other villain said with a grin, pressing a passionate kiss to their jawline.

Their villanous lover laughed, a genuine, musical sound. The world was theirs, and more importantly, so was the beautiful villain in their lap.

Previously, both villains had feared love, thought of it as a trap, something to clip their wings. Foolish reminisces of naïve minds. They'd never imagined they could feel so free. Nothing felt like pure ecstasy, unbridled euphoria coursing through their veins the same way that this did. It tasted sweet, felt intoxicating, set their hearts on fire, the same flames that would soon consume the world, leaving only their names written in ash and smoke.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @usernotfound000 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

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littletinyguydude · 12 days

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writing my little harlivy fanfic so near and dear to my heart. I’m a fool though bc I made it a slow burn and I’m dying as I write it for them to kiss but I’m like no… not yet …

#lesbianing #harlivy #poison ivy #pamela isley #harley quinn x poison ivy #harleen quinzel x pamela isley #nat writes

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coruscantguard · 1 year

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FoxQuin Week, Day 2

Written for the alternate prompt, Fox kills Palpatine. Woooo!!!! The Sith is dead!!!

@foxquinweek

(Ao3 Link)

"In my defense," Fox says slowly, carefully choosing his words. "I didn't mean to."

It's not a very good defense. In fact, it's a pretty shit one. It's the kind of defense that the Prosecutor's office usually hopes a defendant will blurt out when they're taken in for questioning, because it makes their job easy. (At least, that's the impression he's gotten from working with the Prosecutor's office in the past.)

[[MORE]]

General Quinlan Vos looks at him, looks at the remains of the body on the floor. Looks back up at him. "Sorry, can we back up to the part where he exploded and the Force instantly got ten times lighter? Because I'm stuck on the part where he exploded and the Force suddenly got ten times lighter."

"I wouldn't know that, sir, I can't feel the Force," Fox replies, sneaking another glance at the remains of the Chancellor's dead body. Yeah, that was the Chancellor once, that's for sure. "I'll have to defer to your judgment regarding that."

General Vos laughs at that. It sounds... a little high-pitched, a little strangled. "You just saved the galaxy from a Sith Lord, Commander, you don't need to call me sir."

Fox has no idea how those two things are meant to be linked. Or what a "Sith Lord" is. Weren't they evil Jedi, or something? Was the Chancellor a rogue Jedi?

... Yeah, he's not about to ask General Vos that one. Fox hasn't gotten as far as he is by asking questions. Although, to be fair, where he "is" is the Chancellor's office after having killed the Chancellor, so maybe he should be asking more questions.

"Kriff, this is gonna give Mace such a bad headache," General Vos says after a moment of silence from Fox. He laughs again. It still sounds a little strangled. "Right, well, you'll probably need to come to the Temple, Commander, so we can make sure you're safe as we sort out the red tape surrounding this. It's going to be a little complicated, as historically, it's only the Jedi who are legally allowed to take action regarding Sith Lords, but I'm sure Madam Nu will figure something out. Maybe there's a Good Samaritan law we can use, since I was here, and you were technically protecting me."

What. "What?"

General Vos looks up to meet his eyes. He's starting to look a little concerned. "Legal protection, Fox. Are you okay? Were you injured in the explosion?"

"I'm fine, sir," Fox starts, then pauses, tries to figure out how to delicately ask this. Fails. Okay, whatever, he's already screwed, kark it. "I just killed the Chancellor of the Republic. Why are you trying to protect me from the consequences?"

"I mean, the Chancellor of the Reoublic was a Sith Lord. You just killed a Sith Lord." General Vos paused, presumably to let that sink in. Unfortunately, Fox has no idea what that means, so the only thing that sinks in is the realization that he's missing something big. "That's justifiable, you know, you shouldn't be punished for it."

Fox blinks. Stares. Tries to formulate a response. Fails. The Jedi is obviously going to be stubborn about this. Maybe it's just best to go along with things, for now.

Kriffing Jedi.

"Whatever you think is best, sir," he finally says. He's certainly not going to complain about not getting decommissioned, no matter how weird the reasoning behind it. "I'll follow your lead."

(And… maybe that thought is a bit fonder than it should be. Maybe. But he’ll never admit it out loud.)

#commander fox #quinlan vos #foxquin week #foxquin #vox #my writing #nat writes #tcw #swtcw

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witchersgoldenbard · 2 years

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The door to the library opens with its characteristic groan, old wood and tired hinges welcoming each visitor with a personal announcement. Jaskier doesn’t look up from the book he is reading, curled up in the bay window as he is under a pile of blankets and furs. No fire to keep him warm, only a candle guarded by a glass case behind him to make reading easier when the light of the full moon disappears behind another cloud.

There is no sound of footsteps despite the absolute silence in the library, but he doesn’t need the noise to know who came. He saw it in her eyes earlier, in the set of her shoulders and the crease between her brows. In the twitch of her fingers in his direction and in the way she wouldn’t look at him during dinner.

Lilac and gooseberries fill his nose and the smile is on his lips before his heart has even had the chance to skip a beat.

A second later, slender hands take the book away from him and inspect it. “Herzmäre,” she reads. “Isn’t that the one where the lady gets served her love’s heart for dinner?”

“Compelling,” he says, dead-pan. “You always manage to tell stories in such a way that reminds me of why I’m the bard, and you’re—“

“The one who will eat your heart?”

There should be a threat in that, but all Jaskier thinks is, Does that mean you love me, then?

He doesn’t say anything, though, lets her keep the book as she settles down in his lap like he has been waiting for her to do all night. Without moving too much, he takes one of the blankets from his shoulders and covers her with it — with no help of hers whatsoever as she keeps reading where he left off. Or pretends to do that, anyway.

Her hair is soft under his chin and slowly, gently, he lowers his head until he can press his nose to her hair and brush featherlight kisses to her scalp. Yennefer leans into it, burrowing further into him, allowing him to breathe her in, to bask in her warmth because she knows, surely she must know that he keeps the fire out only for her.

It is unspoken, their little game — though it is hardly that. There is nothing disingenuous about it, he is not playing her, only himself if push comes to shove. Still, it is unspoken, yet they always meet here, two hours before midnight. Covered by the silence of the keep, the dark of night and the treacherous tenderness of their hearts, they always do this.

He will wait for her, reading or composing by the light of a single candle. And she will come, announced by the groaning doors, take whatever he is holding and replace it with her own presence. Never once does Jaskier complain. He will only ask, “Can I have my book back now?”

And she will say, “No.”

And they will both smile, basking in each other’s warmth and occasionally pressing silent kisses to whatever skin they can reach.

#yennskier #yenskier #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #the witcher #jaskier x yennefer #nat writes #look maybe i wrote this because i want my arms full of someone right now for silent cuddles in the dark #they’re allowed to be soft again your honour #i wrote this instead of ((cuddling)) sleeping #i also wrote this in the tumblr app so pls don’t look too close at *gestures wildly*

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teddynivvy · 3 days

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Hi lovely, sorry if im blowing up your inbox i literally cannot stop reading your fics bro.

could you maybe write a bottom Ted fic? like hes coming home after a long day of running errands and hes so worn out, laying on the couch and watching tv till you get home, somehow just end up riding him hes just a moaning breathless mess, stuttering his words.

idk ive just had this on my mind for a while and i think bottom Ted is jst so fucking hot😗🤷‍♂️

OKAY BYE MY FAVORITEST WRITER EVERR<333 >:3

omg pls blow up my inbox!!! you're sooo sweet tysm for your comments about my writing i appreciate you so much <3333 ur also 100% correct about bottom!ted... i will reign myself in and not give him a mommy kink (as much as i want to) but if y'all are interested in that lmk ;) (nsfw and dom-ish afab!reader under cut!)

ok so i imagine ted having to do some running around for a video. he has something big planned, so he has like a million errands to do and he's running all around town to pick up supplies. he also has to come home and plan and write, so by the evening when you're both relaxing on the couch, he's completely beat.

you're rubbing along his arms and playing with his hair, giving him little neck kisses, which ends up turning into you grinding on his lap a little bit for some friction. wordlessly, his hands find your ass as you keep kissing along his ears and neck, as you can tell he's getting really worked up.

"what do you need, teddy?" you'd ask, whispering into his ear and making his head fall back. "use your words."

"please," he'd breathe out, his mind foggy. "please ride me, i want you so bad."

"mm, good boy," you'd laugh lightly, pulling off your t-shirt and shorts while he unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down his thighs.

"you wanna get me ready?" you asked, as he laid down on the couch. he nodded, as you came up and placed your thighs on either side of his face.

he lapped lazily at your clit as you sat down on him, feeling his warm tongue and moaning at how wet he was making you. your hands carded through his soft hair as his grip tightened on your thighs, kneading them with his ringed fingers.

"so good for me, baby," you cooed, smiling down at his face between your thighs. "doing so good at getting me ready for your cock."

he moaned at the praise, only wanting to please you, before you pulled yourself off of him. you kissed his plush lips, covered in your slick, before getting off of him and positioning yourself over his lap.

you sunk down on him, watching as his head fell back onto the arm of the couch. you both gasped at the feeling, as he filled you up and you started to rock back and forth and find your rhythm.

your hand found his chest as he started to breathe heavier, eyes fluttering closed at how good you felt on him. his hands found your hips for stability, as you leaned down to kiss his neck and chest.

"does that feel good, teddy?"

he could barely speak, letting the stress of his day fade away as you picked up the pace and bounced up and down.

"mmph, fuck, yes, please don't stop." his cheeks were turning crimson, chest heaving, trying unbelievably hard not to cum immediately.

"you're being such a good boy for me, aren't you, teddy? should i let you come?" he blushed at the nickname, feeling himself get impossibly close to finishing.

"please let me cum, please," he begged, as you started to speed up and make it nearly unbearable for him. "can i please cum inside of you?"

a wicked smile on your face as you bottomed out on him, earning a few blubbering squeaks from him as pleasure overtook him. "since you asked so nicely," you teased, grinding on his cock and leaning down to suck a purple hickey into the skin of his chest.

a mix of the pleasure and pain was enough to send him crashing down, hands grabbing at anything they could, just for some reprieve. a string of 'thank you's fell out of his mouth as he painted your insides with his cum, relaxing as soon as he finished and lazily kissing the sides of your face, rubbing his hands down your back.

"feels so good," he smiled, beaming up at you as you pushed the messy hair out of his face and slid his glasses back on. "you're perfect. i love you."

#ted nivision x reader #ted nivision smut #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison x you #chuckle sandwich x reader #chuckle sandwich fanfiction #chuckle sandwich fanfic #nat writes #this might be one of my faves ive written hehe i love a subby teddy!!

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kurooandkenmasslut · 1 year

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May I request some fluff with Rengoku, please. I’ve been feeling a bit down in the dumps so I wanted to have some nice, sweet, fluff with my flame boi ☺️

Take your time with this, don’t rush!

have a nice day!

Omg ofc baby!!! I hope you enjoy :))

RENGOKU KYOJURO X F!READER

Mission after mission after mission after Misson. Your sure your crow got sick of looking at you because of how many times he had to come to you for a mission.

You yawned and stretched your aching muscles. Your finally going home after about a month or two, you can't remember and you can't be bothered to use your brain to figure it out. Your legs trembling with ever forward step. You missed your boyfriend, like badly. You can't wait to jump in his arms, sit and eat with him as he yells 'umai!' at every bite. You missed it, and you were ready to get back into it.

"I'm home!" You called out. No response. You sighed. As expected. He is the flame hashira after all. Your feet dragged yourself to the bathroom, your body craving for some hot water to relax your tense shoulders.

You got some hot water and filled the bath up. When it came to the height that you wanted, you undressed and sunk yourself in. It felt amazing. After so many cold nights in the forest, having some warmth in a while is refreshing!

After a long soak and washing your hair and body, you hopped back out, the steam in the room making you feel hazy. You wrapped yourself in a towel before opening the door and walking into the hallway towards your shared bedroom.

After getting changed into your pajamas, as soon as your body hit the bed, you knocked out.

You woke up to warm hands on your back, your eyes adjusting to the light, blinking repeatedly.

"Wake up sunshine! Looks like your finally up!" Kyojuro cheered. "..kyo?" You mumbled. "Yes! We are going to visit senjuro and my father for dinner!" Whoch made you jolt. "DINNER?! AT WHAT TIME?!" "hm about an hour!! 😀"

You scrambled to your room to get changed as kyojuro laughed at your panicked face. After you got changed and ready, you left your bedroom to tell kyojuro that you were ready. But what you didn't expect, was kyojuros big arms to pick you up bridal style, making you latch onto his neck with a yelp. He seemed to enjoy it because as soon as he knew that you were in his arms and secure, he started running full speed towards the flame estate, where senjuro and his father lived.

As soon as he got to the front, he halted and looked down at your dizzy face. "I hope I didn't go too fast, did I?" "No... no.. i-its okay.." you mumbled as you tried to get your head still. Kyojuro slowly let you down onto your trembling legs, holding his right shoulder for support.

It seemed senjuro seen you two at the gate because he ran out and hugged kyojuro tightly. "Welcome back, brother." He muttered in his neck. "It's glad to be back! I've brought (name) with me!" "Oh! Hi (name)" "hey senjuro!"

After all the greeting, he welcomed you both in for dinner since he was just finished making it.

"Wow senjuro! Your cooking skills are amazing! I just wish kyojuro would take the cooking skills from you since the last time he cooked he almost burned down the-" "UMAI! and that was a one time thing (name)!" He claimed as you giggled along with senjuro.

"Oi! Is this dinner ready! You take too long!" You heard a grumpy and raspy yell interrupt. "Oi! Kyojuro! What's she doing here again! I thought I said to get her out!?"

Ah, that reminds me. The first time you've met kyojuros father was not the best encounter. As soon as he saw you and froze. His eyes widened at your frame before be blinked and his eyebrows furrowed. You froze. You didn't even breathe. You remember in the pit of your stomach of how nervous you were, but you remembered that kyojuro told you that his father was.. a bit rude.

Last time, he only yelled at you, trying to hold your tears back. But kyojuro told him to stop, and thankfully he did, grumbling out the door and down to the town for more sake.

But this time, he tried to lay his hand on you, and this time, Kyojuro Rengoku, went mad.

"Get out of my hou-" "get your hands off her." Kyojuro sternly said, not only were you scared of his dad, but you were scared of kyojuro in that moment. He'd always had a smile on his face, no matter what. So seeing his eyes burn, glare, into his father's eyes, his hand tightening around his wrist, pulling him away from you. His smile now no longer upwards, now downwards, his teeth gritting hard in anger.

Kyojuro didn't want this. He wanted a family dinner with you, senjuro and him. Abd possibly his father. But since he obviously ruined the mood, the comfortable, peaceful, and joyful mood in the air has now fallen into a room where its almost like there's no air, tension think.

Senjuro was only watching in disbelief, shock, and confusion on why his father was acting likr this towards you. He knew that his father was violent, toxic, and cold. But he didn't expect and want this to happen to you. He felt like he wanted to collapse and press his forehead against the hard floor, apologising for his behaviour. But he knew that he couldn't do anything, if he interfered, he knew that he'd get hurt.

Kyojuro finally left go of his wrist. "We're going now. Goodbye senjuro, the meal was lovely." He said, hugging him before letting go and taking your hand softly and taking you with him.

The walk was silent, surprisingly. Whenever you walked with kyojuro, he always had something to talk about, it could be about his missions, his good recommendations, the hashiras, or some gossip. But the silence made you feel uneasy, so you opened up your mouth to apologise but it looks like he beat you to it.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to end like this, I didn't expect him to lash out at you, more in a violent way I mean. I expected and wanted a lovely dinner with my brother, and my love of my life. I'm sorry for my father's actions, I'm really-" "okay okay, I get it, you can stop saying sorry now dear." "But-" "kyojuro. Its really okay, I'm not hurt or anything. I knew that your father would lash out at me like he did last time, so I prepared for it. I can tell that he has a lovely kind soul under that angry face, I just know it."

Kyojuro smiled, and not it in his usual smile. More like a loving smile, his eyes having hearts in it, his heart beating loudly. He really did love you, he really really, really did. He'd give you his life and heart for you, and he knows you'd do the same.

"Okay, I know I already said sorry, but I feel like it isn't enough so-" "kyo! What did I say-" "darling, please. I wanna spoil you rotten for what happened." "Kyo you really don't have to," "I want to." You sighed as you gave in, you already knew that he wouldn't let you say no.

He took you around the town, some food stands catching your eye.

"Arghhhh I'm so fullllll!" "That's what you get for eating so much" "hey! You ate the same amount as me! How are you not full?!" "I've just got a big stomach!" You laughed at what he said. He really did have a big stomach, after all, he often ate with mitsuri, so it's not really a big surprise to you.

When you two got home, you ran over to the bed, flopping onto it. "Haha! Aren't you tired hunny bunny!" "Hunny bunny?-" "yes! I'm gonna name you that because you ate some bunny shaped ice cream!" "🤨" "😀😍"

"Do you wanna cud-" "cmere right now." Anf you two lovebirds fell asleep while he was spooning you <3

Enjoy! And please please please reblog this when you see it! It always helps and boosts writers blogs! 💗

This is not re-read so I'm so sorry for any mistakes! Stay hydrated and stay safe! <3

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crazy4leclerc · 19 days

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crazy4leclercs masterlist !

charles leclerc

for jules

max verstappen

“i want to claim what’s mine.”

carlos saniz

N/A

lando noris

N/A

michael clifford

N/A

luke hemmings

N/A

calum hood

N/A

ashton irwin

N/A

requests are open :)

#nat writes #f1 #charles leclerc #max verstappen #michael clifford #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #calum hood #lando norris #carlos sainz

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otrtbs · 3 months

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me when i make regulus write a parting letter to james like:

I'm sorry your mom never liked me when I met her that once. I wish I had enough time to change her mind about me. I wish we could've met under better circumstances; maybe then, things would’ve gone differently. I think about it all now and then- that summer I visited your house. All the flowers were in bloom, and the air smelled so sweet. You had a cat named Champ. Do you remember when I reached down to pet her and she purred and offered up her whiskered cheek to my palm? You looked at me like I belonged there, at your house. In your life. I knew then that I’d never see that cat again. I'm sorry you didn't. I'm sorry you believed in me enough for the both of us.

#this is just a small portion of course #it's actually much longer n such #idk what this is i just felt like putting this somewhere #so im slapping it up on my blog #i love you stream of consciousness-esque thoughts #nat writes

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quiveringdeer · 1 year

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Camera Roll Challenge: Dating Connie Springer

there's already so many great posts and hc out there about dating Connie. one thing's for sure there'll never be a dull moment. either when he's with you or even when you're apart. he's always blowin up your phone with selfies or silly messages. not in a weird obsessive way, he just has you on his mind a lot and wants to let you know.

dating Connie also comes with a three for one special cause Sasha and Jean are now all up in your life too. Luckily they're cool people and will go to bat for you in situations just as hard as they would for Connie. And luckily at least Jean can be counted on to juggle the one braincell the three of them share. So you can commiserate when you're at the end of your rope with Sasha and Connie's antics.

It also means you generally have someone around to be photographer when you and Connie are lookin good and being cute. Win wins tbh.

there are soooo many more photos I have and wanna use for more dating connie inspo. also imma dweeb and dunno how to do text shorthand naturally so just ignore any awkwardness! also you're welcome to reblog even if you're not Black! dunno if that'd give anyone pause or not.

I appreciate comments in the tags or in my dms just as much as reblogs too! 🥰

#connie springer x black reader #connie springer x reader #connie x black reader #connie x reader #connie smau #aot x black reader #aot x reader #aot smau #connie springer smau #nat writes

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jakegooglyeyes · 2 years

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Delicacy - vampire!Jake

Gif credit: me (@/jakegooglyeyes)

Pairing: vampire!Jake x f!reader

Summary: You are on your period and Jake is eager to have a taste.

Warnings: oral while on period (f receiving), no penetration, menstruation, blood. RPF. 18+ Minor DNI.

Word count: 1317

A/N: A little idea I had with @gyllenhaalstories. Thank you so much for your support and love. This is me celebrating the month of October. While I don’t plan to do a full Kinktober, I’m trying to get my motivation for writing back.

"Let me have a little taste."

When you hear Jake's request, you almost throw your pillow at his face for daring to make such an outrageous proposal. The painful cramps are aggravating enough. No way in hell you're going to let him make a huge mess just because of his sudden appetite.

Long story short, your boyfriend is a vampire a few centuries old. That's fine. Ever since he opened up to you about that, you've occasionally indulged his thirst for blood. That's also fine because he makes it feel very pleasurable for you. Now he's asking if he can taste your menstruation blood. That's NOT fine. You're NOT fine.

"I read this technique from one of my family's ancient tomes, and I'm sure I can make the cramping disappear. Y/N, please?"

Wow, can he think of a worse justification? You grit your teeth and insist that he cannot. Then, you curl yourself around the warm water bottle and decide to ignore the person sitting on the side of your bed, who is looking at you like a puppy waiting for treats.

"I promise, it's going to feel so good. C'mon, love, you know it will."

Jake still hasn't given up. He litters your sides and stomach with tiny kisses to ease you up. Your boyfriend has fantasized about this many times but never had the chance to bring it up to you. And this time, he is determined to get your permission. He has held himself back and come extremely close to losing it many times. But right now, you just simply smell so good. He is never going to let this one chance slip away. Jake is so close to your pussy that he can practically smell your warm and inviting lifeblood.

You hate to admit it, but you are somewhat curious, and if he really can make the pain go away, then you want it. Still, this is too outlandish. Everyone has some reservations about themselves.

"Ow, fuck." You curse softly, feeling another throbbing pain in your lower abdomen. This month's cramps are particularly nasty. Your mind wanders. If Jake is telling the truth, what do you have to lose? Worst case scenario, he makes a bloody mess on the bed sheet. But he would be dealing with the consequences because he was the one who asked for it. And despite the pain, auntie Flo also makes you kind of horny.

"Please... I swear you will not regret it." Jake continues to push his agenda. He's so hungry for you now someone would need to stab him with a wooden stake to make him stop.

"Alright, fine. But you clean the sheet." You nod, rethinking your life choices before laying on your back, still pressing the water bottle on your belly.

"Thank you, love. You just relax. Let me take care of everything." Jake mentally throws his hands in the air celebrating figuratively as he gets a clean towel and puts it beneath your butts. Next, he eagerly slips off your pajama's bottom. His face lits up as he gets a whiff of your divine scent. He slowly removes your panties and finds the string of your tampon. Jake pulls on it gently, testing your reaction. You grumble, wondering if you've made a mistake letting him have his way.

"Is it okay if I pull it out?" Jake looks up at you, awaiting your approval. You nod, and he grins from ear to ear. You inhale, feeling the piece of cotton slipping through your entrance. Jake fights back the urge to suck on the tampon like a popsicle before discarding the thing. Once he's done, he sits back and takes time to admire your pussy, savoring every second.

"There there. It's going to feel nice soon." Jake coos. His hand caresses the protruding hill below your belly button. He doesn't waste another second before diving between your legs and gives your soft lips a good lick, tasting the blood that lingers on them. You let out a small whimper. Your body is a lot more sensitive during this time of the month. Knowing this, Jake is much more gentle today, slowly enjoying the metallic taste.

His tongue works on your clit, circling and pressing down on it. The sensation makes your inner walls contract, pushing out a stream of red, which Jake happily laps right up. You can't tell if you're getting wet or if that's just your blood, perhaps a mixture of both. All you can feel is warm fluid trickling down your thighs.

"You taste so good, baby. Your blood is exquisite as it is, but this is a treat." Jake compliments as he fully immerses himself in the flavor.

You quiver as you feel his tongue making love to your inner thighs before returning to your aching clit. He carefully closes his lips around each of your lips and sucks on them. You sigh and relax a little more. His low body temperature has a pleasant cooling effect on your sensitive parts. He looks pretty pleased with himself whenever you moan and squeeze your legs around his head, showing him how much you enjoy this. You get to feel better during the worst time of the month, and he gets to have an all-you-can-eat buffet. What's there to complain about?

His hand rubbing your tummy starts moving in a circular motion, and to your surprise, the pain begins to lessen bit by bit. You release a joyful whimper. Then, without the pain ruining your attention, you close your eyes, relishing the mounting pleasure between your trembling legs.

"Don't hold back, baby. Let it all out." Jake praises softly before spreading your entrance with his thumb, allowing him easier access. His tongue makes its way into your dripping walls, drawing out more wetness while he makes mental notes, memorizing the heavenly scent and taste. The flavor is incredible beyond his imagination.

"I've been waiting for this for weeks. Feed me, love." He pleas before increasing the pressure on your mound. You can practically feel his fangs brushing over your clit and pussy lips. Jake momentarily breaks away from the main feast to munch on your thighs, drawing out delicious yelps from you. He quietly plans to take care of those delectable thighs some other days. Right now, though, he has a more important goal.

Your cheeks feel hot, and your eyes start to water as a delightful tingling sensation spreads throughout your body. Jake's light stubbles tickle your skin, and the tip of his nose pokes at your swollen bud, adding to the increasing pleasure. You arch your back, grinding yourself into Jake's mouth even more. Your eyes are closed, and you can't see, but you know his face is probably covered in your blood and juices.

With a white flash, your pussy throbs, and you scream as your orgasm hits. The contraction of your walls pushes out a rivulet of warm nectar. Jake carefully sips it up like the finest wine he has ever tasted.

"It truly is a delicacy from Eden. Only God could have created such a wonderful concoction." Jake laments to himself while cleaning up the last drops with his tongue. You roll your eyes at his corny language but are too sleepy to protest. He tenderly sucks and licks your flower for what feels like hours before tending to you with a towel soaked in warm water. After that, he helps you change into clean clothes and bring you a cup of hot chocolate, just as you like whenever you have to deal with your period.

You take a sip of the beverage, feeling the energy return to your limbs. The cramping has gone, and your body feels light and content. Jake lays down and pulls you into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder before kissing you on the forehead while humming a familiar tune.

#jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #fic: delicacy #fics #nat writes

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